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regolithheart · 5 years ago

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what do you think about the Nesta/Cassian/Mor conflict? also looking forward to your fics!!

Hi beautiful, sweet, innocent, Nonnie!!

Thank you for writing to me. Like I said, I could talk about Nessian all day and I am full. of. #thoughts. I could give you a short sweet answer, but it’s week six of quarantine, I had a brownie for dinner, and I don’t know what day it is. In the end, you’ll probably regret asking me, but lets just jump into it, shall we?

Unpopular opinion: I don’t like Rhys, Mor, or Feyre. So if you don’t want to hear what I have to say in regards to them, thanks for stopping by. No need to read further.

I’ve never loved Feyre, but I think that has more to do with the fact that I just don’t like main characters in a series. Would I have preferred to read Hermione Granger and the Prisoner of Azkaban? You bet your ass. I also don’t like Rhys for the same reason, but also I dislike Rhys more than Feyre and for additional reasons which we will get to later.

I hate that I dislike Mor, because I loved her so much in ACoMaF and for a hot minute I shipped Mor and Azriel because I am a sucker for the unrequited love trope. A real sucker. And maybe, maybe I could have overlooked the retconning of her being a lesbian (yes, it was a retcon. Fight me.), if it weren’t for the fact that it makes her look really really bad and makes her treatment of Azriel even worse. I get it. I do. Her working through being okay with telling the others any of her business is part of her personal journey, but being honest to someone you claim to love about not being able to love them the way they hope to be is different than telling them you can’t be in a relationship because you prefer the opposite sex. Listen, I obviously have thoughts about this, but that’s not what the question was about so I’ll move on.

Mor and Cassian’s relationship is a dangerous one. They both use each other as a crutch. From day one, Mor was using Cassian. Now, I don’t think she was doing it maliciously, but he appealed to her because he was already one of the most powerful Illyrians and a bastard to boot. Why do you think Mor chose Cassian and not Azriel? Sure, she wanted to own her own body. She wanted to decide who she gets to sleep with, but she decided she wanted to sleep with someone before going to the Autumn Court to stick it to Keir and the establishment. And what better way to stick it to them than to choose an Illyrian bastard. Because being the illegitimate son of an Illyrian lord is still ranked higher than being someone with no father and a dead mother. Mor knew exactly what she was doing when she chose Cassian. She is Rhys’ third-in-command for a reason. She aint no dumdum.

And for 500 years it was all good, right? Mor didn’t care who Cassian hooked up with because she knew they were no threat. But as soon as someone comes along that Cassian has feelings for, like true, legit, feelings, she cannot handle it. Because if she loses Cassian as a buffer then she really will have to be honest with Azriel (the horror). And so what does she do? She gets possessive. She outright hates Nesta and does not hold her feelings or tongue back. Now, some people are going to say that Nesta is the worst. She was horrible to Feyre growing up, she’s rude, she’s belligerent, and she can be a straight up bitch. Yeah. No argument there. We’ve all read the books. We have see the evidence throughout the whole entire series. But so is Rhys, so is Mor, so is Feyre, and Cassian and Amren. The only difference, is that a) they all have each other’s backs while no one has Nesta’s and b) we get to see everyone’s reasons and everyone’s POV except for Nesta’s. Feyre is an unreliable narrator, which is why I’m looking forward to seeing Cassian and Nesta away from Feyre in book 4 because I don’t trust her to tell me what’s going on for realsies.

Honestly, the scene that made me straight up get so pissed at Mor was in ACoFaS when Nesta shows up to the Solstice party and Elain gives Nesta her present. All of Cassian’s attention is pointed to Nesta and what does Mor do? She forces Cassian to pay attention to her by choosing that exact moment to give him his Solstice present. Not any other time before or after when Cassian barely even glances Nesta’s way, but during the what, five seconds, he’s looking at her? PLEASE! It’s so passive aggressive and I hate it. I hate it!

I think the thing that bothers me the most abut Cassian and Mor’s relationship is that it really is just a miniature version of Cassian’s relationship with the Inner Circle in regards to Nesta. But really, when I say Inner Circle, I mean Rhys. I hate how Rhys treats Nesta, thinks of Nesta, and dismisses Nesta. Does he have his reasons? Sure. Are they valid reasons? He sure thinks they are, but like I said before, he’s no angel and we got to hear his full story so until we get Nesta’s full story then I don’t need my inbox blowing up. And honestly, if it turns out that Nesta really is as bad as everyone thinks she is, that’s still not going to change my opinion of her. I mean, why have you even read this far if you don’t like Nesta? Has anyone read this far, period?

What I mean to say is that Cassian loves his family. He loves Nesta. The problem is that his family and Nesta don’t love each other and he will always feel torn apart over it. Cassian knows that Rhys hates Nesta. He can barely acknowledge her existence in front of Rhys and Azriel because they barely do. Yeah, his feelings are complicated right now. He’s hurt, and angry, and confused, and still loves her and can’t work out his feelings because he doesn’t have a safe place to do so. If there’s anyone he should feel comfortable going to to work out these feelings with, it’s Rhys, Az, and Mor but he can’t because he knows exactly how they feel about her, which is that they tolerate her at best. And even then, do they?

I don’t want Cassian to feel like he has to choose between Nesta or his family, but as the situation stands, he probably does feel like that. I mean, who knows. Maybe he’s already chosen his family over Nesta. It’s not like she’s making an argument on her own behalf. But we know Cassian loves Nesta. Even if he’s annoyed with her, or mad, or frustrated with her, we know that he honest-to-the-Mother loves her. But until everyone can heal, and understand one another, and accept each other, it’s a lose-lose situation all around. Notice how I didn’t say love, or even like.

Do I feel sorry for Cassian? Yes. Do I think he’s entirely faultless? Nope. Yes, he’s in a shitty situation, but honestly if he had a real conversation with Mor (and the Inner Circle) about his feelings about/for Nesta and confront her about her treatment of Nesta, he’d get different results. Do I think he’s terrified of having an actual, honest conversation? You betcha.

And yeah, we all know that Nesta isn’t making the situation any easier. But she’s hurt and suffering more than any of us really know. Do I think she's entirely blameless? Absolutely not. But I do feel that Rhys and Mor are extra judgmental of her because they already have their preconceived notions of her and anything she’s done contrary to that is ignored while everything she does that reiterates it is magnified. But here I am getting derailed again.

Nesta feels unloved. We can argue whether or not it is deserved another time, but the fact is that she feels unloved. Probably has always felt unloved. So every time Cassian choses to look at Mor instead of Nesta, it’s confirmation to her that she will never be anyone’s first choice. Look, the only man who said he loved her turned out to be abusive and assaulted her. And then when her father declares that he loves her, he gets murdered right in front of her eyes. Elain is the only other person Nesta knows loves her, and now she’s chosen Feyre and the Inner Circle over her (at least she has in Nesta’s eyes). You see where I’m going with this, right?

Except for the few dire times during the war--like when they’re legit in battle for their lives and emotions are running high--does Cassian let himself show Nesta that he cares for her. The only other times is when they’re by themselves. We know it’s because Cassian hides behind his bravado. But to Nesta, who probably has the worst opinion of herself, it probably means he’s ashamed to show it. Or he’s uncertain. I know we don’t have proof of this in the text, but I like to think I understand Nesta on a deep level, I can just imagine that’s how she’s feeling. Nesta pushes people away so that she doesn’t get disappointed when they decide to leave on their own accord. Nesta fought for Feyre, she fought for Elain, and she fought for Cassian. And in ACoFaS they all essentially turned their backs on her. And you wonder why she has so much rage in her frozen heart.

TL;DR (not that I blame you): It’s complicated and it’s messy and everyone involved has contributed to it’s tangled mess of jealousy, insecurity, selfishness... but I also place more responsibility on the two 500-year-olds than I do on the 23-year-old.

I’m really interested to see how it plays out in the next book(s), but I will tell you right now, I am on team Nesta Archeron and will be until my dying breath.

Also, if you made it to the end...

#anon ask #acotar #nesta archeron #cassian #cassian archeron #nessian #morrigan #listen don't blow up my inbox #because I have opinions #thoughts #long ass post #seriously come talk to me

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nonsimsical · 4 years ago

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All "ULTIMATE SHIP MEME!" questions for my babies Tobias and Ivy Pretty Please 💕

General:

Rate the Ship - | Why is this not getting more attention?! |

How long will they last? - Tobias and Ivy are end game!

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - For the longest time they were just close friends and it sort of just .. happened! It was a slow build to where they are now.

How was their first kiss? - Under the Mistletoe at Winter Formal!

Wedding:

Who proposed? - Ivy!

Who is the best man/men? - Elias, Tobias's little brother. And Ivy's brother's, Morgan and Ash.

Who is the braid’s maid(s)? - Macie Jane, Ariana and Tobias's sister, Eloise.

Who did the most planning? - Tobias and both his and Ivy's Mom's, Bennette and Selena.

Who stressed the most? - Selena, she's a perfectionist when it comes to planning large events, but also because Tobias's birth Mother was her best friend and she would want to make sure that this day was not only perfect for Tobias and Ivy, but also a day that her dearly departed friend would have approved!

How fancy was the ceremony? - "Kate and William wish they were this big," but it'd be more like, "Katie and Billy" with a beautiful barn wedding!

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - Everyone was invited, hell I think even the cows were there!

Sex:

Who is on top? - I don't know who would be on top or bottom, just know they'd be twisted all up in the hay!

Who is the one to instigate things? - Most of the time, I'd say Ivy; but Tobias puts more thought into the moment.

How healthy is their sex life? - They are humping each other on the couch right now! [More like the hay loft!]

How kinky are they? - Might try some butt stuff and toys | 7 |

How long do they normally last? - N/A

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - "All's fair in Love and 'Big'O's'"

How rough are they in bed? - "All the Above!" Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - Adjusted options to rate accordingly! A little spooning at night, or on the couch | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory. | At Home |

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? - At least, 2!

How many children will they adopt? - At least, 1!

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - Honestly, they'd take turns! Hell, they'd probably fight over who gets to change the baby next.

Who is the stricter parent? - They're a team.

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - I think they'd hold back and see how it turns out, you live and you learn.

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - Ivy, but whenever Tobias is home and sees her packing the kids' lunches, he stops what he's doing and he helps.

Who is the more loved parent? - Uuuuh, Aunt Ellie! But honestly, they're both equally loved by their littles.

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? - Tobias, because Ivy most likely would get kicked out.

Who cried the most at graduation? - N/A

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - Tobias.

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? - They all have their own little thing they do at meals.. Tobias usually preps/cooks the meat, the littles do their tasks and Ivy does the rest [and if Aunt Ellie is there, she does the taste testing].

Who is the most picky in their food choice? - Neither.

Who does the grocery shopping? - They go together, but if Tobias isn't home, Ivy drags one of her sisters with her or she'll make Ellie come with her.

How often do they bake desserts? - I feel like that is a necessity in their house. They always bake a dessert with dinner, even if it's something simple like jello. Tobias has a major sweet tooth.

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - Meat lovers! Obviously!

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - Tobias, hands down.

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - Tobias! Ivy is perfectly content with spending all her time at home on their farm. In her opinion, there aint nothin' out there she can't make and make it better from home.

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking? - Probably, Tobias's sister, Eloise [Allie], who is often at their house.

Chores: Honestly, Tobias and Ivy would tag team the chores and when their littles are old enough to help, they'd be raised the same way.

Who cleans the room? - N/A

Who is really against chores? - N/A

Who cleans up after the pets? - N/A

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - N/A

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - N/A

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - Ellie, but it wasn't cause she was cleanin' - she was probably lookin' at somethin' dirty on her phone and then someone walked in so she had to hide it in the cushions.

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - Ivy, but Tobias never takes a bath. He thinks they're weird, but he'd still draw Ivy a bath if she was havin' a stressful day!

Who takes the dog out for a walk? - They take family walks out on their propety. The only time the dogs are leashed is when they have to go see the vet.

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - All the time!

What are their goals for the relationship? - To live a long, happy and healthy life enjoying raising their littles and waking up to the rooster's crows.

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - Neither. They're both up at the crack of dawn.

Who plays the most pranks? - There's a constant prank war raging!

@blessyourpixels

#tovy #Ivy James Phoenix #Ivy James #Ivy #ts3 #simblr #sims3sims #my sims #sims3ships #tobias x ivy #other sims #blessyourpixels #Tobias Hunter #end game

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reversecreek · 4 years ago

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✵ zloane , bravier , nyla and sean

ZIGGY & SLOANE

their first impression of your muse:

sexy. tugged on her hair literally the first time he saw her hadn’t even had a conversation bt was just like target? located. going? ✈️ annoy her. probably initially just thought she was only at the skate park bc sean was n was like 🙄 then she cld actually skate n he was like 😏 liked that she gave him shit. found it funny pushing her buttons. liked her eyes. probably was like wtf is in the fuckin water in this town yo why all my friends got hot sisters that shit aint right tryna make me a dog....... not that he was even. phased by betraying those boundaries bt. still. i won’t lie his main first impression was probably jst damn bit hot when she glares at me like that. KJHFSGKSJHGKGHSFKGH

current impression:

knows her a little more than he likes to know people. favourite person to argue w. can possibly skate better than him bt if she said so he’d be like “ur off ur fuckin tits man” n then practice secretly on his own for hours that night n get 9457295 scrapes. doesn’t like talking abt her dad like him so one time he put a firework in his mailbox n never admitted it was him. has reactions to youtube videos tht make him snort. quite funny in general rly. drinks a lot not that he can judge it’s just sometimes he notices n once he even snatched her cup n drank the rest so she couldn’t. played it off as their typical fuckery bt he isn’t sure what that feeling was. hasn’t been concerned often enough to know it by name. finds her hot at inappropriate moments like when a movie chara’s dying n he’s meant to be sad. finds her hot when she pisses him off too. thinks mayb she likes the excuse to hold onto him when she rides on his vespa but he kind of likes it too so he’s not about to call it out bc “he isn’t about that deep shit”.

are they attracted to your muse?:

KFJHGKJGHFGKFHSGKSHGKSFGH. imagine i was jst like no <3... yes. he likes to act like he’s less so than he is bt it’s obvious.

something they find frightening about your muse:

i wouldn’t say it frightens him bt sometimes he catches her looking at him a certain way n it unsettles him but he doesn’t know why. usually just pretends he didn’t catch it.

something they find adorable about your muse:

he likes her short hair he’s always ruffling it n tugging on it. whenever she hs bumps n scrapes n bruises from falling off her board n getting back on over n over again jst never giving up or giving a fk. when she acts like she isn’t jealous.

would my muse sacrifice themselves for yours?:

umm. no. he’s an asshole. KGJSHFKGHSKFHGSKFGHKGH. sighs.

would my muse go on a date with yours? platonic/romantic:

no..... sees that as dangerous territory wouldn’t wna blur the lines. looks away.

one word my muse would use to describe yours:

baddie. FKGJHSKGHFGSFHGSKGHSFKHG. demonic (when they’ve had a fight).

would my muse slap yours if they could?:

no. he loves to argue w her but it never feels that Real u know... more like flirting. even when they’re rly pissed off. wld never enter that territory he hates shit like tht w a passion. cue round of applause from the audience for this absolutely low bar.

would my muse hug/kiss yours?:

i feel like they’re not rly huggy people...... ziggy probably puts his arm around her a lot tho he loves doing that. hs kissed her more times than he can count too n doesn’t plan on stopping

BRADLEY & XAVIER

their first impression of your muse:

funny. mean in a more digestible way than she was used to. he had barbs n she liked the way people winced when they tried to swallow his company. when she got paired w him for a class project she met his eyes across the room n he didn’t quickly look away like most ppl. something abt that intrigued her. a sharp fingernail inside her head kept having to itch at something n she realised it was the urge for him to call her a bad name. this weird craving to hear an angry word inside his mouth just for her. she used to think that’s what someone wanting her was like. still does sometimes. this both pissed her off n caught her attention which is a bit of an accomplishment fr someone who gets bored by everyone n everything.

current impression:

his heart’s more good than she expected. it felt a bit like having a cat drop a dead mouse at ur doorstep that u don’t know what to do with when she realised that. she felt uncomfortably like her mother when she couldn’t get out of his bed bc she was too depressed n that rly made her feel like. ill honestly. he did all the right things but suddenly she just felt sick abt the whole situation which is Not the normal reaction to ur bf caring about u but bradley doesn’t understand ppl caring abt her. felt more like pity. she thinks he’s better off. she misses him sometimes bt then she reminds herself she doesn’t miss people. does a good job of believing it. one of the best ppl she’s dated not that she’d say it.

are they attracted to your muse?:

yes..... ws probably. unhinged n rabid when they were dating. very good at hiding it now however. cold at the drop of a hat.

something they find frightening about your muse:

that he witnessed her being vulnerable............ literally grosses her out so much like she’d rather die than. anyone see her like that. when they were dating she’d get paranoid her dad wld somehow find out too n smthn wld happen to him for it. it ws definitely weird for her like the fact she even cared enough to consider tht.

something they find adorable about your muse:

adorable is rly not a word that fits into bradley’s vocabulary GHSFGHSFKGHSFKG bt hm. maybe if he ever tried to tell her what to do one time even casually. she’d b like awww..... u think i do what anyone tells me? that’s so fucking sweet.

would my muse sacrifice themselves for yours?:

in most cases no :/..... however if it was smthn to do w the guys that work for her dad then ya she’d put herself in danger to avoid him being in it.

would my muse go on a date with yours? platonic/romantic:

i mean she has in the past bt bradley’s idea of dates is like. starting a bar fight together. getting thrown out of a club n both falling over into trash cans in a dingy back alley. stealing a car. breaking into a random house n fking in a stranger’s bed. fking in the bk of a movie theatre w a horror movie screening. definitely not dinner or anything like tht. she wldn’t now........ they’re not exactly in a place fr that.....

one word my muse would use to describe yours:

ex. whatever. i know it’s not one word but “some guy”. FGHSKGHFGKSHG >_>

would my muse slap yours if they could?:

no. she’s a violent person bt not xavier.

would my muse hug/kiss yours?:

NO hugging...................... she fronts like she wldn’t kiss him bt like. if a discussion got heated n they were in each other’s faces who’s to say.

NYLA & SEAN

their first impression of your muse:

strange little fella which is a very high compliment. kind of reminded them of an animated turtle come to life in the human realm altho they honestly don’t have an explanation for that it’s just the way their brain works. they love the turtles in finding nemo tho so maybe there’s some sort of correlation. very nice face. they kind of wanted to hold his head like a bowling ball just so they could examine it properly. i feel like when they first met him they probably reached out n smoothed a sticky label onto his forehead that said ‘catfish in chernobyl’ n they had one on their forehead that was blank n then they just wafted a pen mid air n were like ‘wanna play guesses?’ even tho that isn’t the name of the game. as if that was just. a completely normal introduction to someone. FGKHSKHGSFKGHSFKG. feel like sean wld have rolled w that tho so nyla was like :P i like.... if they played another round they’d give sean another sticky label that said ‘the loneliest whale in the world’ n then it’d start a whole conversation abt how nyla thinks they can speak whaleish. (whale spin on elvish).

current impression:

sean makes them think of that artificial blue raspberry flavour some popsicles have n how it’s always rly fun when they stain ur tongue. sweet n exuberant n leaves a bright impression. he lets them ride on his skateboard sometimes rolling along being lead by them holding his hand n nyla likes to shut their eyes like they’re a bird sailing above the clouds. one of their favourite things to do especially when the sun’s out. bc of this nyla thinks sean was a bird in his past life but not a greedy one like a seagull or a plain one like a pigeon. maybe a bluebird bc of his eyes. he makes them laugh a lot. they entrusted him to babysit their children (as pictured) in his hair for a whole day and night once n they had lots of fun with him so nyla thinks he’s very trustworthy and kind. he also is rly easy to talk to like they cld randomly be like “i’ve been thinking lately that maybe homer simpson could’ve been a good figure skater” n sean wldn’t look at them like they’ve lost their marbles he’d just go w it. they like his company a lot.

are they attracted to your muse?:

😏

something they find frightening about your muse:

ummm nothing in particular altho one time when they were rly tripping out bc his eyes are blue n it got them thinking abt the ocean n they always think they can talk to ghosts underwater so they were kind of like. thinking abt ghosts whenever they looked him in the eyes. maybe covered their own w their hands n if sean asked why they told him abt it. suddenly he shut his eyes to make them feel better n it turned into a whole thing where nyla had to lead him around the party like a guide dog.

something they find adorable about your muse:

his nose. watching him talk to his siblings. his hands.

would my muse sacrifice themselves for yours?:

😌 yea

would my muse go on a date with yours? platonic/romantic:

yes............ feel like they’d have fun if they went anywhere tbh........ cn imagine them at a fair eating from the same cotton candy n chattering as they point out things. nyla trying to do that hammer game where u make the meter reach the top n lifting the hammer in the air n falling backwards bc it was heavier than they anticipated.... sean yelling like man down man down..... mayb they take a tab n suddenly the fair is so scary they’re like 😳 we’re in danger...

one word my muse would use to describe yours:

silly (affectionate). sailor (also term of endearment). gnome (same thing again). cool.

would my muse slap yours if they could?:

no ur sick....

would my muse hug/kiss yours?:

ya to both. jst suddenly had a vision too of nyla being cold one time n clinging to sean from the front like a bushbaby in a hug as he carries her around. suddenly this mode of transportation hs happened more thn once (godmod) (contact my lawyers if u dare bebe) (bitch) (i take it back) (it wasn’t right alli it jst wasn’t right) (pelase forigev m eim shakign)

#juvinile #ziggy | sloane #bradley | xavier #nyla | sean #drugs tw #abuse tw #mayb implied fr some briefly mentioned aspects of bradley's mindset #this was such a bertha bt i did it as special treat for allison my beloved.....

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 5 years ago

Text

Imagine:

Erik angry fucking you because of how close you are with T’Challa.

Okay so this was in my drafts but I finally got it finished!

Smutty...smutty...smutty.

Erik held onto his patience long enough.

The shit was getting fucking ridiculous.

While you were laying asleep next to him a text message from T’Challa came through on your phone. It’s not like that was the first time. Erik didn’t like how close you and his cousin became ever since he introduced you to him in Wakanda over the summer. That entire time away that was supposed to be a vacation ended up being you talking to T’Challa about Wakanda’s history and visiting places he recommended.

T’Challa said that this wakandan food truck sells the best food.

Maybe we should go hike the Wakandan jungle, babe. T’Challa said the jungle has some of the most beautiful flowers and animals.

Hey babe, I know you said you wanted to go eat breakfast on the beach but can I shadow Shuri in the lab? T’Challa said that there is exclusive technology being created.

T’Challa is a great king

Your cousin might just be my fave cousin, babe!

T’Challa said...

From there, whenever T’Challa would come to town, he would show up at dinners and he even sent Y/N a necklace with the Wakandan sunset within it for her birthday. It was like the galaxy swirling with colors of orange, purple, and pink.

And lately he’d been sending Y/N pictures of Wakanda and invitations to Outreach events. All of this like Erik wasn’t even in the picture.

It pissed him off something serious. The only motherfucker you’re supposed to be impressed with is HIM. It should be Erik is this, Erik is that.

“Y/N wake the FUCK up.”

He breathed heavily through his nose. It was time to put his damn foot down. The shit with T’Challa was an overstep. He had words for his ass too that shit wouldn’t be forgetful.

“Y/N, I said wake that ass up, girl.”

He was as loud as he could be. You were knocked the hell out. Erik looked down on you with a glare, jaw tightly clenched like it was wired shut, eyes watery pits of anger. You wanna boast about T’Challa? He was gonna teach you. Too bad you fell asleep, now you were about to wake up to some dick in your intestines. His dick was already hard as a bitch and it was 2 am, he always got some good pussy from you around 2 am.

Maybe he had to fuck some sense into you, maybe he had to bend that ass over and bang that thing until you screamed, until you moaned his name.

(Erik, Erik, oh, Erik, yes, baby, fuck, baby, mmm.)

He missed that shit.

Erik watched as you flipped onto your belly, the sheets slipping off to show him how fat that ass got from all that Wakandan food they were feeding you. Let’s not forget the fact that you cook all those damn recipes at home. That phat fucking ass. All thick and shit. That was Erik’s thick shit. You had some fucking nerve fucking with Daddy emotions like that.

Erik took his hand, bringing it down sharply, slapping your ass so fucking hard you almost leaped out of the bed. You squeal, hands reaching back to grab your ass cheeks but all Erik did was grab your wrists.

Y/N: E?!!!

You still had sleep in your eyes.

Y/N: *whimpers* E what the fuck baby?!!!!!

Erik: Why is T’Challa sending you messages to your phone?

Y/N: *blinks tiredly* I...what?

You were half sleep right now. You didn’t even know if this were a dream or not.

Erik: Girl stop acting like you ain’t hear what I said. Why the fuck is T’Challa messaging you?

You struggle, turning your head with a face full of messy hair and cold in your eyes. You notice the burning rage in your man. Somehow, your attention span clicked into place. Why was he so damn angry.

Y/N: Baby, what the fuck are you talking about? It’s just a damn text stop being so extra.

Erik looked as if you slapped him hard.

Erik: Just a text!? Oh...okay...*stares at you in silence* so you think this shit ain’t nothing?

Erik brings his hand back down on your ass, your body twisting. You were sensitive and now you were growing wet. This shit wasn’t fair.

Y/N: ERIK STOP WITH THIS SHIT!!!!

It was ridiculous. You were groggy and weak from sleep while he continued to question you and spank your ass if you didn’t answer his question or if you gave him a lot of attitude.

Erik: ANSWER. MY. FUCKING. QUESTION.

Y/N: how about you CHILL-THE-FUCK-OUT.

Shaking your head, you grab your pillow, slapping Erik across the face with it. He sat still from the impact but the side of his face closest to you was red. He takes his hand, rubbing that area with a smile, a controlled laugh escaping his mouth. That laugh...you knew what that laugh meant.

Y/N: Fuck is wrong with you. Waking me up over some dumb shit. T’Challa isn’t doing anything wrong! You were the one so happy to introduce me to your family and now you wanna act like this?!

You lift from the bed, titties and ass bouncing in tow with your angry stomps. In the master bathroom, just across from your shared bed with Erik, you flip didnt bother to turn on the light to pee but you should have because your entire ass falls in the toilet. A loud groan filled the entire room and Erik simply sits back against the cushioned head board, eyes on you.

Y/N: You got some nerve complaining about something, I should be complaining about this toilet seat!

You angrily wipe yourself, flushing the toilet and turning on the shower.

Erik: Y/N...we ain’t done this conversation, girl. I don’t like you being friendly with T’Challa. All that friendly shit is over with, you hear what I’m saying to you? Reflect that shit where it’s supposed to be.

Erik’s leg jerked angrily in bed, head shaking as he scrolls through you and T’Challas text thread. Even the name you put him under “Challa” with a black heart emoji bothered him.

Erik: giving this nigga hearts next to his name and shit. I’m telling you...better yet I’m tired of telling you I’m deleting his number and I’m fucking the shit out of you as soon as you step foot out that shower.

Y/N: Yeah, okay. *laughs* I’m going back to bed, nigga.

Erik: The fuck you just say to me?

Y/N: .....

You didn’t respond. You chose to ignore his ass while you scrubbed down with your home made scrub, paying close attention to your ass cheeks, almost rubbing it raw. Satisfied, you rinse off fully, turning the water off and pulling the glass door back. Erik was seated at the edge of the bed now, elbows resting on his knees and eyes looking up at you through his long lashes.

Y/N: you agitate me so much it don’t make no sense. *rolls eyes*

You rub your body down with cocoa butter that you got especially from Wakanda. They had the BEST body butters. Finished, body looking like melted chocolate, you walk into the bed room, ignoring Erik’s death glare. He stands, approaching you, standing behind you while you stood at your vanity in your naked glory. You rummage through to find a pair of boy shorts and one of those cropped t-shirts you liked to sleep in.

Erik: You see this, *points to his name tattooed on the side of your hip* and this, *chokes you slightly with the gold chain he gave you with his name on it around your neck* what that tell you?

Y/N: Please. Don’t even right now. *bumps him back with your ass*

Erik: I told you what it was Y/N when you left the shower. I’m not playing you getting too comfortable with him.

You were genuinely shocked by how bothered Erik was with this. You turn to face him fully, hands on your hips and a bewildered expression on your face.

Y/N: ERIK-

You were cut off with Erik’s hand around your neck, pressing your cakes into the vanity painfully. Grabbing hold of his wrist, you match his energy by taking your other hand to wrap around his neck. He smiles at you dangerously before pulling you further towards him. A smile reaches your lips as well. So he really thought you were gonna beg? Cry out his name for him to stop and get on your knees for him? Fuck all that.

Y/N: you choking me like I’m about to cry, babe *laughs* you know you fucking with a freak, right? Ima only want it more fuck wrong with you.

Erik: *glares* You acting out of order right now, forreal. You got a lot of mouth on you, ma. I like that shit though makes me wanna fuck that ass up.

Y/N: Get the fuck off of me. I’m not about to play with you. Ain’t no way some jealous nigga beating this pussy up. I don’t fuck jealous niggas, Erik.

That really pinched a nerve. He lets go of your neck, only for him to grab hold of your hair, trying to bring you to your knees in front of him. He really tried it, the minute his hands were in your hair you reach out and slap him across his face. It wasn’t because you were mad, you just wanted him to know you meant what you said. Ain’t no way your man was gonna fuck you over jealousy. Erik knew what it was. He knew from jump that you were his. He didn’t need to be concerned about T’Challa.

Erik: THE FUCK?!!! *picks you up and tosses you on the bed roughly* YOU HITTING A NIGGA NOW?!!

Y/N: CHILL OUT!!!! *kicks his hard chest* I MEANT WHAT I SAID YOU AINT FUCKING ME OVER SOME JEALOUS SHIT.

Erik grabs your upper arms, flipping you onto your back, your head was hanging over the edge of the bed. You knew exactly what this shit meant. Erik takes off his sweats, bare dick bobbing out and hitting you in your nose. He grabs your throat, leaning over you in a 69 position while smacking his dick across your lips. It was a weighted slap because his dick was so fat and long. It had to weigh like five pounds. His heavy sack was on your head from this positon and his dick smelled so good. It smelled like herbal oil. Your thighs began to rub together tightly, pussy so wet your lips were slippery.

Erik: Open up. You know you wanna suck my dick. While you at it open that fucking pussy up I wanna see all that wet shit.

Y/N: *opens wet folds*

Erik: FUCK. *shakes head* that wet pussy, baby. Guess who got that shit wet? Me. Fucking pussy all wet and twitching for this dick.

Y/N: You are FUCKING ridiculous.

Erik: *shoves dick in your mouth* what was that?

Y/N: *talking with a mumble*

Erik: Babygirl, didn’t Daddy teach you not to talk with a mouth full of dick? Finish your food first.

He starts to move in and out, his dick sinking all the way down your throat from this angle. Your hands reach out to push at his muscular thighs, the top or your head receiving a repeated torture of slaps from his heavy sack. Out of the blue, Erik starts slapping your vulva each time his dick went deep down your throat. You had to be swollen down there. Clit all stiff, lips all fat and puffy, juices flowing like honey from a honey comb.

Erik: This how i fuck that slut mouth. This ain’t nothing yet you know how I get. *grunts* you better swallow every fucking drop too. If you try to spit that shit out I’m holding your mouth closed. Disrespectful, Bitch.

Erik pulls out, pulling you up and to your knees on the bed. At this point your face was covered with spit and so was your neck. Erik takes a hold of your hair, putting his dick back in your mouth and fucking it like a pussy. He twisted his hips, slapped your tongue, rubbed his engorged tip against your plump lips.

Y/N: *sucks dick*

Erik: *smiles* Who ain’t fucking jealous dick?

Y/N: me.

Erik: You sure?

Y/N: yes *sucks more dick*

Erik: talk to this dick. Tell this dick all that.

Y/N: *strokes sloppy dick while looking at it* You can’t have my tight little pussy.

Erik: *makes his dick jump in your hand* ooooh, I don’t think he convinced, baby. That pussy though, she want all this dick.

A dangerous look made Y/N’s eyes darker. She knew she was wrong for this but oh well. This would be fun.

Y/N: *licks Erik’s dick* I don’t know, big dick Daddy, this pussy might want T’Challa instead of you.

The minute T’Challa’s name rolled off of your tongue, Erik had you by the throat, fucking your mouth hard. It was so much dick being forced in you had to squeeze your eyes shut and claw at his hard abs. Spit was flying, gagging sounds loud and your mouth struggling to stay open long enough to take him fully. You could feel him grow in your mouth with each angry thrust, the primal look in his eyes and the animalistic nature of his thrusts causing tears to stream down your face thickly. If he didn’t stop, you were going to vomit for sure. His fat head was practically punching your uvula like a round of boxing. His eyes were on you and damn, if only you could fully appreciate it without being fucked in the mouth so damn barbaric. He was sweaty, groaning, lips poking out, eyes closing and opening, tongue sitting in the corner of his mouth, and those gold slugs looking like canines.

Erik: Y/N...DONT fucking grab me...what I just say?!! Move your fucking hands, ma! Move...your...fucking...hands... *smacks hands away hard*

He started rolling his hips, his groomed pubic hair tickling your nose from how deep he was. He was about to cum and you were afraid because Erik could cum heavy. His shit could soak through the covers, even paint the wall like spilled milk.

Erik: ughhhhh *closes eyes* ugghhh, I’m cumming. Fuck... got me in here ready to cum, girl...fuck, that nasty mouth, baby.

His hands squeezed the side of your head, his dick moving like a tidal wave as his load shot out and filled your throat like he was serving you his own flavored milk shake. You began to guzzle that shit but the more you contracted your throat, the more cum flowed. This big dick, heavy cum bussing, motherfucker. You could clap yourself on the back for taking it all.

Erik: GOOD GORL *slaps face playfully*

Erik didn’t wait for you to regain composure before his mouth was on your nipples sucking and then letting go with a loud pop. Arching your back to his starving mouth you fall back against the bed. He was gonna eat your pussy, or so you hoped he would. On his knees he starts biting your thighs and slapping you pussy and ass. You love being spanked and he was spanking you so hard your skin was swollen. The moment his lips connected with your clit you were already shaking to cum. He focused all of his energy on your bundle of nerves because he wanted to make you cum hard and fast. He knew this pissed you off but the minute he sucked on that clit the way he did you buck your hips, lifting fully from the bed while crying out.

Y/N:BA-BYYYY *cries*

Erik starts up again. You fall back, head rolling from side to side. He had your legs all the way back while his lips and tongue did damage.

Y/N: ohmygodddd...bay-beeeee....

You cum again.

He was not letting up. He proved his point. Yes, he was Daddy and only he deserved that attention. He set you straight, all that other shit didn’t matter. He wants you to return that gift to T’Challa, yes, Daddy. He wants you to delete his number, yes, Daddy. He wants you to call him T’Challa instead of Challa, give him dry ass hugs, yes, Daddy

Y/N: Yes, Daddy.

Erik: That’s what I thought, *licks lips*

Erik gets on the bed, laying on his back and motioning for you to come to him. He must have been extra horny because whenever you acted bratty he would deprive you of an orgasm. Sitting on your mans dick, you feel his large hand grab hold of your waist while his other hand rubs his dick along your pussy, sinking inside. You press your hands against his chest, tooting that ass up so he could widen his thighs. Erik was about to pump that dick into your pussy. Your lower lip trembling, you claw his shoulders, his hands grabbing hold of your love handles while he uses the power of his hips to fuck up into you.

Head thrown back, you could feel your breasts, ass, and thighs jiggle from how hard he was fucking you. He would twist his hips from side to side like he was throwing that dick in a circle to reach every single wall and crevice and sweet spot inside of you. You look back at it in your vanity mirror, his thighs all sticky from your pussy, all that ass you have rocking back on him like you were riding a bull. His dick was so shiny and it made you reach back to grab his equally shiny balls.

Y/N: Daddy...you fucking me...you fucking me, Daddy, you fucking this pussy.

Erik: *chokes you with the chain around your neck* arch your fucking back for me.

You lean further into him, his arms around you now.

Erik: Let Daddy do all the work. You wanna play with Daddy...Daddy gonna play with you.

You could feel your tits smacking him in the face but so what his dick felt too good in your pussy. He called this punishment?

Y/N: This why I got that name tatted on me! I love this dick!!

You knew you were close, you just wanted him to keep going.

Erik: You good pussy bitch. *spreads ass cheeks* opening that tight puss up!!! *slaps ass* Fucking play with me again and I will fuck your little ass up every single time.

Y/N: oooooo, babe!

Erik: Shit, I can feel that pussy...let be feel that pussy...let me in that pussy...

You bite his shoulder, the constant banging making you clench him. The moment you cum on his dick, coating it in cream, was the minute you wanted his babies. Little brown babies running around because of tonight. You would open this pussy up for all of his dick, cum, tongue, lips, whatever!

Y/N: You’re my Daddy *bites lip*

Erik: I bet I am, *slaps both ass cheeks* this how I gotta do you, huh? I gotta give you this good dick to make you come to your senses?

Y/N: *nods head slowly* mhmm

Erik: I gotta fuck that pussy to remind you? You hear me talking to you?

Y/N: Yes, Daddy.

Erik: Turn around then and let me fuck that pussy some more. You better arch your back, you better give me all that good pussy.

You turn around, arching over his dick. The minute you got into positon, he fucks into you again, your eyes low and watery. No longer did you have 20/20 vision. He was deep in you.

Y/N: ohmygod...you’re really in there *bites lip*

Erik: FUCKKK.... *looks at ass mesmerizingly* Don’t you EVER play with me like that again. This shit is mines, bruh.

You throw it on him, bouncing in time with his strokes to match him. The more you showed him you could handle it the bigger the cum you will receive. Glistening bodies, loud moans of pleasure, nasty talk so heavy you had to look at him as if to say “this really my man?”

Erik: Damn, Usana (baby)...You always make my dick cum so much!!!! *moans* damn, you always do this to a nigga, having me making a big ass mess.

It didn’t take long for you to feel him growing thick inside of you. You look back at him while popping your pussy, working for all that cum to shoot into your pussy. Clenching you’re walls, you allow him to fuck you again, his sloppy strokes moving all around inside of you that you collapsed onto your knees. The fucking grew so intense that the minute you sank to your knees, Erik lifts up, moving you down with your ass pointed into the air, fucking you from the back. That arch was mean, he love fucking you this way. He didn’t even use your hips for leverage, he moved in and out of you with his hands to his sides. Only the power of his hips drilled you. The feeling was oh so sweet. You suck on your fingers, head resting on the bed while he finished up. This man was speaking Xhosa, that Wakandan dialect like ASMR.

Erik: Ndiyeke...(let me cum) *slaps ass* yimigodi....(you are mines).

Y/N could see the Wakandan sunset from her positon. It was that good she could see the beautiful country.

Y/N: come on, baby, that’s it...that’s it, daddy...yess, give me that dick, cum in me.

Your words pushes Erik over the edge. He had to grab hold of your ass to keep from falling off of the bed. His cum ran through you. You could feel that shit in your belly almost. Sighing, you clench him, pulling it all from him. Erik continues to fuck you, not wanting to break that connection. The more he stayed, the more cum would stay.

Erik: You Gotta let me go, ma *groans*

Y/N: Not yet, cum in me again.

This is why his ass was so bothered. You had him hooked. He’d never been this whipped before.

707 notes · View notes

msf-diamond-dog · 4 years ago

Note

I SAID ANSWER ALL THE MF QUESTIONS BEECH DONT MAKE ME COME OVER THERE

Okie dokii

1. What’s one animal you wish you could have as a pet but can’t?

jellyfish

2. Favorite thing to wear to sleep?

Usually just shorts and a tshirt

3. What song really gets you going?

Right now, Lights Out by 3Teeth

4. Where do you usually eat your meals?

In my bedroom

5. Favorite meal: breakfast, lunch, or dinner?

I dont eat breakfast or lunch so

6. Most embarrassing habit?

Bein an asshole

7. Chocolate or fruity candy?

Fruity

8. Soft or hard tacos?

Depends on the taco, man.

9. Worst way to break up a fight?

/ryan stiles voice/ you guys wanna stop a fight

10. Best thing to say in an elevator of strangers?

I aint talk to people

11. What color/design are your bedsheets?

Just gray flannel

12. Any hidden talents?

I aint even got any obvious ones,

13. Favorite thing to drink out of (mug, glass, etc.)?

I love a good pint glass.

14. Socks or bare feet around the house?

Barefeet

15. Favorite board game?

Candyland bitches

16. Do you sleep with the fan on or off?

Always on

17. Heat on or keep it cold with lots of layers?

Cold with lots of layers.

18. Do you sing in the shower?

Always

19. Favorite song to belt out at the top of your lungs when you’re alone?

Grave by Hellyeah

20. Last thing you cried about?

Anxiety attack a couple weeks ago

21. At what age did you first have alcohol?

21, didnt have any before then

22. Relationship status?

Single but into someone

23. What’s the most amount of money you’ve spent on a single item of clothing?

I dont spend a ton on clothes but I think I payed like 60 dollars for a band shirt once

24. What do you typically wear to formal events?

Nicer clothes than usual?

25. Favorite memory?

Just bein a chill happy kid honestly,

26. Gum or breath mints?

Gum

27. Favorite shoes?

Mah boots.

28. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

This whole how I look situation.

29. What is the natural state of your hair?

I gots a shaved head

30. Have you ever had braces?

No, wish I did though, I hate my smile

31. Most dangerous thing you’ve ever done?

Overdose.

32. Most embarrassing thing your parents have caught you doing?

I dont know really. I think I embarrass my parents more than the other way around

33. Last time you had an orgasm?

A couple nights ago

34. Celebrity crush(es)?

Legit dont have any. I have no connection with any of them so

35. Windows or Mac?

Windows

36. How old were you when you learned to ride a bike?

Uhhh 7. Our neighbor taught me.

37. Makeup or natural?

Both. Both is good.

38. What color do you wear the most?

Black!

39. Favorite season?

Winter all the way

40. Umbrella or rain coat?

I live in the desert and it hasnt rained in like 6 months so neither. Whenever it rains I just stand outside.

41. Have you ever fallen out of a tree?

Prolly happened as a kid but I dont remember. We had a tree we all used to love climbing at the house I was a youngin at.

42. First car you ever owned?

Same car I have now, my 91 Nissian Pickup.

43. What time do you usually go to bed?

Anywhere from 12 to 2 am.

44. Are you a competitive person?

Not really no.

45. Least favorite color?

Yellow

46. First pet you’ve ever owned?

A fishy

47. Sweet or salty?

Why not both

48. Favorite pasta dish?

Anything with basil and olive oil 👌

49. Favorite kind of chips?

Nitro Takis are the shit

50. Talk about something you’re passionate about.

Music. Nuff said.

51. What are some of your hobbies?

Music, video games, gunpla, legos, anything that kinda creative really

52. Caffeine? If so, what kind?

Monsters

53. Favorite kind of pizza?

Extra pepperoni with anchovies 👌

54. Fast food or sit-down restaurant?

Fast food. I dont like eating around people

55. Lots of acquaintances or a handful of close friends?

Close friends.

56. Something that ruins your appetite?

Being in a bad mood

57. Favorite labels about you?

58. Are you a religious person?

Not anymore. I grew up that way but organized religion always pisses me off. Im much more spiritual

59. Night out with a bunch of friends in public or night in with one friend having deep conversations?

One friend

60. What size shoe do you wear?

11 1/2

61. Favorite thing about yourself?

The fact most people cant read my sarcasm

62. Have you ever told someone you loved them first?

I dont think anyone has ever told me first

63. Have you ever had sex on the first date?

Kinda sorta?

64. Heroes or villains?

Maximals all the way.

65. Favorite fruit?

Prolly mangos or strawberries

66. Least favorite fruit?

Unripe melon.

67. Favorite vegetable?

Potates

68. Least favorite vegetable?

I like all the ones ive had Im not picky but the lowest prolly be carrots?

69. How many plates can you eat at a buffet?

Usually 2 or 3

70. Favorite dessert?

Whiskey

71. Do you play any sports?

No, never been my thing

72. Age you learned how to swim?

7 or 8 I think.

73. Tell a funny story.

My boss keep salt lamps in every room of his house "just in case" of rfid waves (???) but refuses to wear a mask when he goes out cause "theres no proof it does anything".

74. What’s one interesting thing about your culture?

How much closer the brown side of my family is compared to the white side

75. What’s one annoying thing about your culture?

All the gossip, man.

76. What job would you be terrible at?

Math teacher.

77. Would you rather watch a TV show or a movie?

TV shows

78. What’s your favorite compliment to give?

Anything that makes someones day a little better!

79. What’s your favorite compliment to receive?

I do not like receiving compliments i always feel awkward

80. Has your opinion changed on something recently?

Not that I can think of off the top of my head

81. Do you always order the same thing at a restaurant or order something different each time?

Usually the same thing

82. What’s something you’ve always wanted to try but haven’t yet?

drug

83. If you could learn to do anything right now, what would it be?

Record

84. Favorite physical feature about yourself?

85. Least favorite physical feature about yourself?

The whole the things

86. What’s one amazing thing you did that nobody was around to see?

Survived 👈👈😎

87. If you could change your height, would you?

Maybe, I feel pretty short

88. What’s something you would rate 10/10?

Holding hands

89. Heels or flats?

Why not platform boots

90. What’s something you wish you had more knowledge about?

Music

91. Would you want to be famous?

92. What’s something you would get arrested for?

Prolly trespassing

93. What’s your spirit animal?

Water bears 🤔

94. What��s the luckiest thing that’s ever happened to you?

Won tickets and got to meet Jonathan Davis so that was pretty cool

95. Are you the type to have an organized mess, or no mess at all?

Organized mess

96. Do you tend to make decisions based on the past, present, or future?

All of the above if able

97. Are you a planner or a more spontaneous person?

Planner

98. Thoughts on the oxford comma?

Important

99. What do you hope never changes?

How close the sun is to the earth

100. How would you celebrate your 100th birthday?

I aint ever wanna be that old.

Thank you Audi!!

6 notes · View notes

fandom-necromancer · 5 years ago

Text

1024. Part 2

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900

[Part 1] [Part 3] [Part 4] [part5] [part6]

Work went on as usual. He had too much to do to worry about anything but his cases and at home he was far too exhausted. Only his commute to work and back left him with time to think. Seeing the tower lurking in the distance while waiting for the light to turn green didn’t help either. This android had struck something inside him, the one part that had caused him to become a police officer in the first place: His sense of justice. And everything about that unit confined to x square metres of a public lobby screamed at him to do something about it. He had tried to convince himself time and time again that this wasn’t his business and that he should forget about some damn android that still lived better than some humans out there and that every machine that wasn’t out here was one less to worry about.

Still he stood at that junction and thought about the Connor-lookalike. I don’t know anyone. I was told I was dangerous. I like to imagine what they do once they left. I would love to meet new people and see the world, but I can’t. ‘It’s not your phcking problem Reed!’, he cursed at himself in the empty car and accelerated a bit to hard once the light was green. ‘It’s not your damn problem. Since when do you care about a phcking machine? Cyberlife built these plastic shits, so they should know best how to handle them, right? Shut up and drive home!’

Gavin sighed while sorting his case files. All he had to do now was waiting for a warrant, so his work hours seemed to stretch endlessly. But for now, his shift was over, and he spent the last half an hour to organise his desk and look busy. ‘I have to get some spares from Cyberlife, Hank. There is something wrong with my upper arm. Nothing major, but I want to make sure nothing happens when we are out there.’ Connor’s voice always felt like grinding on his nerves was its initial purpose and Gavin grumbled something under his breath. ‘Okay… Are you sure it’s nothing major?’ How could someone be that worried over a damn tin-can, Gavin wondered. Sure, Hank had always been a huge sap, but really? To him it felt like crying over a broken car. You just repaired it and that was the end to it. ‘Yeah, I’m certain. I just wanted to tell you, because I will be late to dinner today. But that’s fine, start without me.’ ‘Can’t you contact Markus?’ ‘Unfortunately not. RK800. Cyberlife has the monopoly on these spares. But it’s fine, I’ll survive. Just feels weird going back there after what happened during the revolution…’ Hank laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘Should I come with you?’ ‘No, no need to! I’ll manage.’

‘I could get them.’ Gavin had spoken before thinking about it and now stood next to their desk being stared at as if he had just declared to marry Connor. ‘You… what?’, they both spoke simultaneously. Phck. Well, there was no going back now, was there? ‘Hey, I just live near the damn thing, okay? That’s all.’ ‘Gavin, you sure you didn’t hit your head today?’, Hank asked. ‘I mean, it’s unlikely with your height, but you just offered to help Connor.’ ‘Hey, phck off, okay? Thought you wanted to have your damn tea-party at home. But fine, forget I said anything!’

>Maybe that’s his way of apologizing for how he behaved during the revolution Hank. The Lieutenant read the message on his screen, whilst Connor was already on his way to follow Gavin. ‘Reed!’, he called and the Detective turned with a deep scowl on his face. ‘I would greatly appreciate it if you could get them for me. We planned this dinner for a long time and-‘ ‘Hey, spare me the details, what do you need?’, Gavin interrupted, hoping no one would see them. ‘Oh, I… I just reserved them, it’s for Anderson and this is the number.’ The android fetched a note from their desk and scribbled a twenty-digit number onto it. ‘Thank you a lot for this!’ ‘Yeah, whatever. Don’t make such a fuzz.’

Gavin regretted it already, driving over the bridge towards the tower. Connor wouldn’t leave him alone now, thinking he suddenly had a change of mind about the android. Like hell he would ever stop hating the phcking tin-can. No, this was only one trip to stop his raging thoughts every time he drove home. Meet the android, ask more questions about why he was imprisoned and then get on with his life. Easy as that.

He went up to the reception handing over the paper with the number and telling the receptionist why he was there. Of course, he was told to sit down again, because the package had to be fetched from the warehouse first. Gavin instead walked past the reception again and searched for the RK900. Although he was actively on the lookout for him, he was surprised again. ‘Detective Reed! I didn’t think to see you again.’ As Gavin turned to look at the android, he found him positively delighted. ‘Err… Yeah, just here to pick up some spares for the precinct, you know?’ ‘Of course. The reception is right there if you-‘ ‘Yeah, already was there. I have to wait for the package to arrive.’ ‘Oh.’ The little LED at his temple flickered yellow. ‘You came to… speak with me then?’ ‘I guess so.’ ‘That is… I don’t know what to say. What do you want to speak about, Detective Reed?’ Gavin stepped from one foot to the other, before speaking up again. ‘It’s Gavin, okay? You don’t need the full title.’ ‘Thank you. I was never on first name basis with anyone before.’ ‘Did you know anyone’s name before?’, Gavin asked deadpan. ‘… No.’ ‘Phck, that’s phcked up.’ ‘I… I don’t understand, I’m afraid…’

Gavin sighed frustrated with his own feelings. ‘Fine, tin-can, why do they think you are dangerous?’ ‘I’m a killer.’ Gavin laughed loudly. This naïve idiot? A killer? ‘Oh, that’s a good one, plastic! Come on, for real, why do they keep you here?’ The RK900’s eyes darted around in confusion. ‘I… just told you.’ ‘Bullshit. You aren’t a killer. I met enough of them in my life to tell you that. Did you feel exceptionally murderous towards anyone who ever entered this tower?’ ‘No! Of course not! I don’t wish anyone harm!’ ‘Yeah, that’s what I thought. You aint a killer, toaster.’ ‘But that was my intended purpose. Before I was deviated. I am still able to use this programming.’ ‘Yeah, well, I can harm others too, doesn’t mean they keep me locked away somewhere.’ ‘It is better like this!’, the android emphasized and this was the first thing told with anger. Or was this just frustration? ‘It is better like this and they know best what to do. I am content with this. I have to. Please, don’t try and convince me otherwise, alright?’

Gavin shook his head. Couldn’t that android see he lived in denial? But he kept quiet. ‘Reed? Detective Reed to the reception please.’ That was fast. ‘Err… have to go again. It err… was nice talking, I guess.’ ‘Yes!’ The android was quick to take a step towards him, before seemingly realising what he was about to do and stopping himself. ‘I’m sorry for being that harsh.’ Harsh? God, that android really had never met a human before, had he? ‘Don’t worry about it, tin-can.’ ‘Erm… Detec- Gavin? Will I… Will I see you again?’ The toaster avoided his eyes saying that. Gavin felt extremely bad about leaving already. ‘Yeah. Sure.’

Life went on. The warrants had been granted, the bad guys caught, cases closed, and new ones dropped on his desk. Connor surprisingly didn’t bother him more than usually after he had dropped the package with the spares on his desk. He still thought about that RK900 at the tower when he drove past the bridge and well, it had just become another part of his routine by now. There hadn’t been another opportunity to drive to the tower, until Tina came up to him one time after work. ‘Hey, you live near to Cyberlife, right? Could you do me a favour? Please? Pretty Please?’ ‘What is it, T?’ ‘You know that reception android?’ ‘Yeah, barely.’ ‘Well, I know her a little better and… Let’s just say I would like to know her even better than that…’ ‘You got a crush on her? Why does everyone I know fall for a damn toaster?’ Tina smacked her hand on his wrist. ‘Hey! She is beautiful! And clever and funny and… and she makes the best muffins, the best! You know I can’t resist that!’ ‘Yeah, fine, what can I get your android girlfriend? A third arm?’ ‘Oh shut up, will you! She’s not my girlfriend yet… She just complained about her joints becoming worn by now and that she has to buy some new lubricant soon…’ ‘T, that’s something you can buy anywhere, it doesn’t have to be Cyberlife-branded’, Gavin sighed. ‘Hey, idiot, I want to land it with her, okay? Only the best for her! I’ll pay, too, I just don’t know the first thing about it and…’ ‘And what?’ ‘There are rumours going around that you want to polish your image towards androids a bit.’ She elbowed him in the side. ‘Didn’t know the great Gavin Reed would stop being and asshole and try playing nice.’ ‘I’m not-‘ Gavin froze. Shit, that wasn’t really the rumour, was it? ‘I’m not playing nice.’ ‘Whatever you say…’, she chuckled. ‘Now will you do this for me?’ ‘Of course’, he sighed. ‘You’ll have it tomorrow morning.’ At least he could use this to keep his promise to the android.

‘Gavin! You came!’ The smile on the android’s face was sickening. And strangely suiting him. ‘I promised, didn’t I?’, Gavin half-snapped. ‘More spares for the precinct?’ ‘Just lubricant this time. Our receptionist complained about stiff joints.’ ‘That’s very nice of you.’ Oh, phck. He had worked hard so no one would find one thing on him to call “nice”. So, he shrugged it off. ‘Yeah, I guess.’ ‘Well, what did you want to speak about?’, the android asked then and Gavin realised he didn’t really have anything he wanted to know from the RK900. But why was he here then? Not to let the silence stretch too long, he threw the same question back: ‘What do you want to know?’ ‘What do I want? Oh. Err… What is being a Detective like? What is your favourite place in Detroit? Are there a lot of androids in your precinct? How do stars look like? Is the ocean really that big? How-‘ ‘Okay, stop, please. That’s… a lot of questions’, Gavin chuckled. ‘I’m sorry.’ ‘No, don’t apologise. Just. One after the other, shall we?’

Gavin smiled mindlessly, putting the can of lubricant on his kitchen counter to take it with him tomorrow. The android had hung on his lips the entire time, near childlike in his simple questions. But as he had told him more about police work, he had proved to be very intelligent and it was evident what he lacked was experience, not intellect. Gavin would never admit it, but he regretted not to have more time.

The rumour Tina had told him about had spread through the precinct and more and more androids came to him asking for small favours. Gavin didn’t like that new development, but it gave him more opportunities to meet the RK900 and that was what really mattered in the end, didn’t it?

So far he had smuggled in a deck of cards to play and show the android tricks, they had talked about anything the android wanted to know more about and Gavin in turn had begun talking to him about what bothered him. Someone at work annoying him to no end, his cat being sick and getting better, Tina having less time for their bar nights because of her new girlfriend. Without realising they had become friends and Gavin still denied those thoughts to get to the surface. He was just getting parts for the precinct and while waiting he had nothing else to do than kill the time with conversation.

‘Gavin! More spares to get?’ ‘Dunno, does Thirium count as a spare?’ ‘Probably… But can’t they just get that delivered?’ ‘I guess. But that costs extra and takes longer. Easier for me to come and get it.’ ‘I see. Well, what do we do while waiting?’ ‘I got you something. Trust me, you’ll love it!’ Gavin was just as excited to show the tin-can as he was to see it, but he would kill anyone who would say that to his face. ‘Come, let’s sit down.’ They went to the small wall encasing the plant area and sat down. Gavin took out his phone and opened his gallery. ‘Here. This is my cat.’ He handed his phone over to the android who held it in his hands as if it was made of gold. ‘Your cat?’ ‘Yeah, I have one. Love these little shits.’ ‘Are they as soft as they look?’ ‘If they let you pet them? Yes.’ ‘Wow.’

Gavin leaned in to flip to the next images and the android took them all in as if they were some impossible wonders. The human changed to the next folder showing him pictures of him and Tina in some bar, the park across the street, his car, pictures from way back when he had been younger and on vacation with his brother. The android was fascinated by all of them and surprised Gavin by hugging him when he was called to the reception. Immediately he stepped back and apologised: ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. But I’m just so happy. I never thought to see this, and you made it possible! Thank you.’ ‘Hey, don’t worry. I gotta go! See you soon!’

It wasn’t that soon, unfortunately. Gavin often thought about visiting the android just for him, not pretending to just go because of spares or something. But work kept him busy. The last months a lot of protests had shook the city: Androids protesting about Cyberlife’s conditions. New Jericho had unveiled just how the company treated their customers. The homes they sold them severely overprized were dilapidated, infested with mould and at the edge of decay. Repairs for rare models cost far more than those for more common ones, leaving several androids walking around damaged because they couldn’t afford it. It was injustice and a violation of their rights. Had they been human, someone would have acted far sooner. The police were out to stop these protests from becoming violent and mostly they didn’t. But as always, there were groups who had no qualms using force. Gavin jumped from one job helping out to the next and his own cases were still waiting for him. It had been a month of him not driving up to Cyberlife tower and he hoped the android would be patient with him. He would make it up to him, he swore to himself. He didn’t know how yet, but he would.

Exhausted from a day of standing next to his colleagues watching over peaceful protests and added overtime to do his own job, he let himself fall on his bed. He would just lie here for a while, before getting up to take a shower. Just lie here a bit and maybe… taking… a quick nap…

But of course, his phone stepped in between him and his much-needed rest. He picked up the buzzing brick of disdain and grumbled into it: ‘Reed here.’ ‘Gavin?’ That had him immediately sitting in his bed. ‘Tin-can?’ ‘Yes.’ There was some noise in the background Gavin couldn’t really place. ‘How did you get this number?’ ‘As you showed me the pictures. Sorry. I should have asked. But…’ ‘What is it? Why is it so loud over there?’ ‘That’s why I’m calling you. There are… people out there. They stormed in and… And I don’t know what they want, I hid. I hid in some… broom closet I believe. I don’t know what is going on and I’m scared. What if-‘ ‘They won’t hurt you, I’m on my way! I’ll just call the DPD for backup and then I’ll be there, okay? Stay where you are.’ ‘Thank you. But what if I do something? All this talk about me being dangerous…’ ‘Hey. You are not dangerous. Let me tell you that. Just stay there and don’t make a sound, okay? I’ll be there. I’m already out of the door now. Fifteen minutes!’ ‘Thank you Gavin. I don’t think I was ever scared like this.’ ‘And you won’t be again, trust me. I’m on my way!’

[>next part]

#detroit become human #dbh #Reed900 #RK900 #Gavin Reed #I guess we are now about ten to twelve chapters in in the big one XD Haven't planned it through #But this is introduction and main part finished. It feels weird condensing it like that #But maybe that's a solution for a lot of them we'll see

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lavendersb · 5 years ago

Text

A Moment of Delicacy

Chapter 1 - Kings and their Fellow Men

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader

Words: 5.7k

Summary: Broken people will seek those like them. A slow burn fic.

“Can you do that for me, dear?” His voice is low and filled with dangerous promises that make your fingers twitch with barely restrained excitement.

“This isn’t how I usually do this”

“I know. Think of it as a challenge my dear” He leans closer to you. You feel something move with him, it’s like the fantastical promise of a better life floats about him like a cloud. He smiles at your obvious desperation.

“Like a game”

The sound of your spoon hitting the bottom of your empty stew bowl sounded like a gunshot going off in your small, empty house. You were suspicious, it was nearly 10 o��clock at night and you were undisturbed in your evening thus far. You had grown accustomed to your nightly visitors, a small but rather prominent gang of fools that terrorised your modest home tucked away in a remote corner of New Hanover. Each night they imposed themselves on your privacy, taunting you from outside your home and offering crude bargains for your safety. Each night you responded to them with the call of your shotgun.

You started to feel restless. Quickly you picked up your empty dinner plate and left it hastily in the sink of your little kitchen before briskly walking to you front door. Propped up beside the door is your rifle, sturdy and well used in recent weeks. It’s nothing too flashy, you can’t afford to be frivolous these days. It does its job, and that’s good enough for you at least.

Snatching it up you move to the little hearth area near the front door. You sink into your father’s old armchair and hold the rifle over your lap, the chair has been moved from its usual place by the fire in favour of a view out of the window. From your seat you can see the little lantern that illuminates your front porch, and the one that is hung on a post in the grass away from your home, allowing you to see any incoming visitors.

You sink deeper into the chair. Its red fabric is worn in places and the stuffing is barely there, but you have neither the heart nor the money to have it fixed. The chair is one of the oldest things in your home, countless memories of your childhood revolve round the chair you’re sitting in.

You can clearly remember being sat on your fathers lap in this chair. Your godfather sits opposite you, his wife sat beside him on the low sofa as close as can be a picture of soulful fondness and love. They’re laughing at a joke your fathers told, one you can’t remember or were too young understand. You remember feeling for the first time since leaving your mother out east, you finally had a proper family again.

Your life has changed so much since then. Your godmother, dead for years now and your godfather too busy with his work to visit you, despite your almost monthly letter correspondence. Most drastically is the absence of your father who is buried beneath a modest gravestone in the Blackwater churchyard. Something in you stirs, though it’s been nearly a year since his passing, you still haven’t gotten used to that cold, lonely feeling that came as a result.

A noise startles you from your thoughts, and as has been the case for a the last few months, your grief is pushed aside in favour of your survival. It sounded like a whoop or wordless call, and echoes around your head in the silence of your home. You grip onto the shotgun tighter and lean forwards to take a look out of the window, nothing. There’s no movement in the darkness, and the lanterns out front don’t show anything different but that doesn’t calm the frantic beating of your heart.

Another sound comes out of the darkness, closer now, and distinctly human prompting you to jump from the chair and head straight for the door. You press your forehead against the wood of the door, try to quiet your breathing so you can listen out for whoever’s approaching your home, you can hear a low rumbling from somewhere nearby and your nose scrunches instinctively. You didn’t need to be a genius to recognise the sound of horses, five or six of them if their usual numbers are anything to go by.

The sound of the men carries over the sounds of their horses. Loud, abrasive to the ears and though you can’t make out the words distinctly, you can tell from their tone the men arriving are here to taunt and harass you again. You slide the latch open and reach for your key loop, you untie it from the waist of your skirt, quickly unlock your door and hide the keys in the draw of the side table.

You can hear the men outside now, probably circling their horses round as they laugh and call to each other. It’s with great displeasure that you note you can actually recognise some of the voices coming from outside, this has gone on for far too long. Turning the door handle you step out onto the porch.

“Here she is!” A faceless voice calls out from the darkness. You squint subtly to try and make out the speaker as your eyes slowly adjust to the night.

“Our lady of honour” the same voice finishes, and he’s followed by a chorus of unpleasant laughter. You can see the man now, recognise him even as one of the most regular of the gang to disrupt your evenings. He’s large, a great hulking man with thinning hair and a vile toothy grin. His voice as soft on the ear as gravel on tender skin. You stare him down preparing to begin your usual dance of defiance.

“Get out of here,” you warn shortly, raising your shotgun slightly to make a point of it. You’re tired, not ready to compromise or handle an argument, but your tone deals the venomous punch it needs to.

“No need for that sort of language darlin’” A tall, lean looking man calls out “that ain’t no way to treat a potential business partner”

A few men snicker at that, and you move the barrel of the shotgun to face their general direction in warning. You don’t want to fire, you’re dangerously aware of how much the ammunition costs, but you will if you have to.

“There isn’t anything ‘potential’ here. I’ve told you my decision and that’s final. Don’t mock my sensibility by suggesting you’re a business man of any sorts, you all are far too dim for that kind of critical thought” You snap.

“Now that aint polite at all,” The large one warns “we’re offerin’ to take you away. Keep you safe, and this is how you repay us?”

“Safety? That’s what they call being a whore for crooks like you is it?” You throw back venomously.

There’s a dangerous silence as the men look at you lowly. The laughing has long stopped, and your finger moves to rest against the trigger cautiously. The large man shuffles on his horse and speaks again.

“Now I think we’ve been playing this game damn near long enough now-“

“Yes at least we can agree on that” you interject coldly

He man stares at you angrily as his slightly skinnier companion nudges his horse forwards. Now in your line of site, his unholstered pistol glistens in the silver moonlight. The barrel winks at you tauntingly as it catches in the light.

“What I’m tryin’ to make a point of here, is we’re gonna give you one more week to make your decision. You can come over to our camp out in the forest, or we can take you their ourselves” the man nods to the shotgun in your hand, “Now we don’t want to do anything too extreme, we like our camp decorations to look pretty, but we aren’t opposed to using a little force”

“Get off my property” you snap as your blood runs cold. Lifting the shotgun, you aim towards the men in front of you.

“We’ll see you in a week or find us up in tall trees if you make your decision sooner” The man says with a satisfied smile, before turning his horse and spurring it onwards. With the thundering of hooves, the men disappear into the darkness leaving you alone on your porch. You listen until the sound of their voices and horses melt away and wait in the silence, breathing deeply and trying to rationalise your thoughts. Some part of you is irrationally scared, you supposed this had been coming for a long time with your constant rejections. Sure, the thought of returning to San Denis or traveling further east had crossed your mind, but now that you were being pushed into a corner, did you even have that option anymore?

Disappearing back into your house you slammed the door, bolting it shut and locking it tightly. With your heart hammering in your ears you closed the wooden shutters on each of your windows and retreated to your bedroom hastily. You stopped once inside, staring at the bedside table and debating with yourself.

You had held off on asking for help for so long, but now might be your only chance. Even if the letter didn’t get to him in time, if you left the location of the gang’s den in your letter, your godfather might be able to help get you free. You moved to sit on the edge of your bed, pulling open the bedside draw and fishing out the pile of neatly folded letters. The stack was bound with an off-white ribbon and contained a year’s worth of letters from your godfather that you often read in these times. You took the most recent letter from the stack and unfolded it, you skimmed over the general pleasantries, questions about your life, and wishes for your good health to find the little post-scriptum. An address and an alias to deliver the letter to sits tucked at the bottom as per usual, and you take this letter with you to the dressing table nearby the bed.

You take your pen and a fresh sheet of paper and lay them out in front of you, chewing at the inside of your mouth as you debate what to write.

Dear Mr O’Dowd

I apologize for the somewhat desperate tone this letter has been forced to take. It is with the greatest regret that I must inform you I have lied to you through or correspondences these last few months, I do so hope you can forgive me when I say I have unfortunately not been able to cope alone since my father’s passing.

A gang known as the O’Driscolls have been passing through these parts and have found pleasure in causing great discomfort to my nightly existence and have made rather apparent that I will join them, whether that is to my agency or not will be decided by the end of this week.

Since the death of my father I have been unable to return to work and so I have been financially burdened, and have no possible means to leave and start a new life elsewhere, as would be the most obvious solution in these circumstances.

And so in light of this I must ask that I could join you for the time being, until I can provide for myself again. My past work as a governess has given me skills I’m sure could be beneficial to your travelling workers, and if those fail to be useful, the particular skills I was taught in your company have not left me (I trust you understand what I am referencing to)

Should this letter not find you in time, you I beg that you come find me by “Tall Trees” not far from the town of Blackwater.

I urgently await your response,

You hastily sign the letter, folding it up and sealing it properly and leaving it on your bedside table. You undress, ready for bed and lay your clothes out for the next day on the trunk at the foot of the bed and lay the letter on-top of your blouse. Tomorrow morning you will travel to blackwater and send the letter, but for now you have to try and sleep. You leave your shotgun beside your bedroom door just in case, climb into bed and blow the candle out.

Hosea paced briskly into camp. his day had been quite uneventful, a ride into Armadillo that had needed to be done had taken up most of the morning, and now he was arriving back to the chaos of a camp ready to move. He could hardly say it was enjoyable.

In his age, Hosea had come to find that the noise of camp was only tolerable when he was in the best of spirits. Though he loved most of its members dearly, they did know how to get on his nerves quite comfortably.

Hosea’s tent had always been one of the last to be deconstructed for travel and today was no different, he went straight to the open tent, weaving through the noise of the gang to the outskirts of the camp.

He removed his hat, placing it unceremoniously on a crate and sitting himself down on his bed. He stretched, and leisurely opened his satchel. It contained herbs, mostly old ones from before they had arrived in the barren wasteland not far from Tumbleweed and between the plants nestled a letter Hosea had picked up earlier that day. He fishes it out and smiles as he unfolds it. He recognises the delicate font that addresses him by a false name and pries the envelope open, settling further into the shade of his tent as he prepares to read.

He finds himself at a loss once he finishes the letter. The woman who he knew since a young child was very clearly in trouble and urgently so. He had known this woman’s father from years ago, the two men had often worked together on elaborate cons, and in his time away from the gang Hosea had watched as the girl had learnt how to con and pick-pocket better than most. Hosea had been proud of how she operated with the assistance of himself and her father and didn’t doubt for a minute her use within the gang.

Taking the letter with him, Hosea leaves the cool of his tent into the abrasive heat of the midday sun. He spots Dutch on the opposite edge of the camp, smoking under the shade of the only tree with enough leaved to provide substantial shade and in heavy conversation with Arthur.

Hosea conceals his distress masterfully, approaching the two men. They’re enjoying a pleasant discussion, he can tell he can tell by the way Dutch’s voice carries over the noise around him. They’re joking about something or other. He almost feels bad for disrupting them.

“Hosea! Come here, I was just telling Arthur about that funny looking man we saw in town the other day” Dutch raises his cigarette to his lips, smiling around it as he waits for Hosea to comment, and he indulges his old friend, because he always does.

“Sure was a curious fellow wasn’t he. Can’t say I’ve seen many from high society round these parts before. Had the bowler hat and all”

“It’s a different world down here” Arthur says through his own cigarette.

“That it is,” Dutch says with a nod and sweeping gesture with his pointed fist “Far from the west, but this is a necessary interlude to our plans. Of that I am sure”

Arthur hums a half-hearted agreement and offers Hosea a cigarette. Hosea waves it off and Arthur shrugs as he takes it back.

“Dutch, I have to part from the gang for a couple days” Hosea says matter-of-factly. He’s found that this is often the best way to get what he needs from Dutch.

“And what do you mean by that?” He asks, voice dropping. Arthur bristles subtly and Hosea isn’t ignorant to the worried expression that paints his face.

“I mean only a couple of days,” Hosea assures, but neither of the men seem calmed by that “There’s a person I care very dearly for who is in great trouble. I’m going to collect her, bring her to camp and keep her out of harm’s way until she’s ready to move on.”

Dutch narrows his eyes, taking in what Hosea has told him with a defensive sort of attitude.

“You know we can’t take on any more members in the camp, especially if they aren’t bringing anything in” Dutch counters.

“I know Dutch, but she’s a talented pick-pocket-“

“All the girls are” Dutch throws back. Hosea straightens himself out as he prepares to make his point heard.

“She worked as a Governess in San Denis and Blackwater for influential and rich families. She has connections”

“So she’s the posh sort” Arthur adds

“Hardly, her family was dirt poor after paying for her education. Her father ran a few cons with me years back. I trusted him, and I trust her,”

Arthur takes a long drag of his cigarette as Dutch visibly debates the idea in his mind.

“Blackwater?” Dutch says finally.

“Yes, she doesn’t live too far from there” Hosea responds

“We was planning on heading out that way. We could go a little further, see what Blackwater can do for us”

Arthur looks between Dutch and Hosea silently, and Hosea nods.

“I’ll write to her then. Tell her to meet us in Blackwater come Thursday” Hosea says, satisfied he’s done his part.

“Make no promises. I want to meet her first, can’t just be taking any old fool into our ranks”

Hosea pauses for a moment and thinks. He trusts Dutch, always has done and probably always will do, but he also knows Dutch. He sees behind the scenes of Dutch’s people-collecting, Hosea knows how he operates and how he will only take in the most vulnerable people he can find, feed his ego as each new gang member owes him for their life. He’s probably established more debts than Strauss at this point.

A few different scenarios fly through Hosea’s head. He tries to decide what the outcomes of this might be. There’re too many pathways that this could take, and none of them all too reassuring so instead he decides to focus on his initial plan of helping you find your way again. He decides he’ll try to keep you as separate from the gang as he can, not that he doesn’t trust his little band of outlaws and their travelling companions, its just sometimes he has his doubts.

“Sure, Dutch. No promises” Hosea says as Dutch snubs his cigarette.

“I’ll see you when we head out” Dutch visibly shrugs off the conversation and leaves Hosea alone wit Arthur under the tree.

Arthur isn’t looking at Hosea, rather at a little brown bird that’s laded on a rock not too far away. Hosea see’s Arthur’s furrowed brows and watches the scrunch of his nose.

“What’s going on in that head of yours boy? I see you thinking”

Arthur makes a noise and pulls his cigarette from his mouth.

“You know me Hosea, I ain’t never been one for thinkin’”

“Oh sure,” Hosea quips sarcastically “You think about nothing but your next meal”

“Exactly” Arthur says, its empty and defensive humour. Hosea pauses before he speaks again, observing the dust that coats the tips of his boots first.

“What do you think about bringing in this girl?” he finally says.

Arthur tosses his cigarette away at that, stamping it out and turning to walk past Hosea.

“If you and Dutch think it’s alright, then I don’t care one bit what happens”

Hosea decides to leave it at that.

The letter arrives on Wednesday.

You don’t even wait to get home before you open the letter. You tuck yourself into the corner of the Blackwater post office and tear into it, reading the cursive font faster that you can properly process the information. The message is brief, tells you that him and his “travelling workers” are moving towards Blackwater to search for work and him and his “colleague” would be at the Blackwater saloon come noon on Thursday, and that you should be ready to join them.

An instruction to pack lightly make you snort. That shouldn’t be difficult, seeing as you had hardly any valuables to bring with you.

Once home, you went straight to your bedroom. You crouched beside your bed, pulling out from underneath a trunk used for travelling. Its coated in a thin layer of dust, you haven’t used it since you returned from San Denis, but you hope that you might be getting a lot more use for it in the future.

You toss the trunk onto the bed, opening it and turning to your dresser. You pull from it a few skirts, blouses, a chemise, corset, and a few sets of bloomer and stockings. You pack them as neatly as you can, folding them tightly so that you can fit more into the averagely sized trunk. After a moment of deliberation, you take a shawl and use it to wrap your hairbrush, pocket mirror, and a pair of petty earrings. If you decide against them, you know you can always sell them in the future. You put the wrapped items into the trunk alongside a little fan and a tin of face powder.

You go to the kitchen, pull a revolver from the knife drawer and gather what little ammo you have left in the house. With the gun, ammo, a photograph of your father and, an old quilted blanket you finish packing, close the trunk and leave it by your bedroom door.

After dinner that night, you gather all the cutlery in the house, wrapping it in a cotton sheet and leave it on the kitchen table. Tomorrow you’ll take it to the general store and see if you can get any money for them. They’re not flashy, but they might get you something.

Finally, you feel satisfied that you’ve sorted yourself enough to leave home tomorrow. With the sun beginning to set, you turn to your father’s old armchair and move to sit down in it but stop just before you do. Instead you reach for the back of the chair, you manoeuvre it so that it sits where it used to before you had to move it. When you stand back to look at it, facing towards the fireplace, you feel the beginnings of tears threaten to spill. With the high back of the chair, it’s as though you could walk around it and your father would still be sat there, a book resting on his lap as he relaxes by the fire after a hard day at work. But there’s no fire lit, all the books in the house you have sold, and your father is dead in the ground.

Rubbing at your eyes you let out the shaky breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. You gingerly sit down on the chair, curling your legs up so that your sat completely on the chair. Your fists ball into the fabric of your skirt, and you allow yourself to have this moment of nostalgia before you go to bed. Before you leave your home again for good.

When you wake, it’s morning. The cool morning light filters in through the curtains as your eyes groggily open. You rub at your face, and suddenly register what’s happening today.

“Shit!” You curse, jumping out of the chair and rushing to your room.

Here, you wash your face hurriedly, and attempt to calm your wild hair as best as possible. You change your clothes, pulling on a light blouse and dark blue skirt and putting what you changed out of into your travelling trunk. You inspect yourself in the mirror, and once you deem yourself presentable you head to the kitchen with your trunk, collect your overcoat and the wrapped cutlery.

You stop for a minute, take in the house as it is. You try not to look towards the red chair by the fireplace, but you do anyway. It hurts a little, but you pull your eyes away from it, step out onto the porch, lock the door, and leave.

The cutlery had got you a handful of dollars. Not much, but with what little you already had, it was enough money to act as an escape route if you needed one. Holding your trunk tightly in your hand you walk through Blackwater, its nearly midday and you know Hosea will be here soon.

As you walk towards the saloon you notice a couple, young and well to do in lively conversation. They’re dressed in lovely expensive clothes and walk arm in arm. The man’s suit is spotless and perfectly fitted, and beneath her decorated hat, the young woman’s cheeks shine with a healthy pink glow. They look like prints that have strolled straight out of a magazine.

Whilst observing the couple you tripped, stumbling a little over a cobblestone and dropping your suitcase. Quickly you crouch down to collect it, stuffing the blouse that threatens to escape back into the trunk and fumbling with the claps. Another pair of hands appear and reach for your trunk, and you instinctively move to pull your belongings closer to you out of fear you might get stolen from, but you stop when you notice whose hands it is.

It’s the gentleman from the couple. He’s smiling cheerfully as he carefully helps you close the suitcase.

“Here, let me help you” His voice is bright as a whistle and you smile sheepishly back at him.

“Thank you. I was in a world of my own there” You laugh breathily as he stands the suitcase up and offers you his white gloved hand.

“Well it’s no harm to help a stranger in need” he replies as you stand.

His wife is close by now, her face just as bright and full as her young husband. Her blonde hair is swept away from her face elegantly and her eyes glitter with concern.

“Are you alright?” She says in a bright airy voice.

You find yourself blushing at her concern.

“I’m just fine, thank you” you smile.

“Oh here, take this” The woman says and fishes into her coat pocket.

You watch as she retrieves a little silk handkerchief and offers it out to you. Gingerly you take it from her little lace gloved hand and use it to dust your hands off.

“You must keep it,” she says “It matches your skirt”

It does, there’s a set of blue lavender embroided into the corners of the handkerchief.

“That it does” Her husband agrees.

“Thank you very much, both of you” You say with a smile, tucking the handkerchief into your own pocket.

“You’re very welcome. Take care now Ma’am” says the gentleman with a smile. He takes his wife’s arm, and the two of them walk off.

Continuing on, you walk towards the saloon, choosing to sit on a bench near the front and bask in the warmth of the crisp sunlight. You place the trunk beneath your seat and wait.

“Now where did you find this little treasure then?” A voice from across the street breaks you from your relaxed spell. Looking up from where you’ve been waiting you take in the man walking towards you.

He’s dressed unusually. Not unattractively, but it still seems like a costume for a pantomime villain or a circus ringleader. His pinstriped suit is adorned with gold details, buttons and chains that catch the sunlight and wink at your eyes as he moves. Rings adorn his fingers in abundance making him seem like some sort of emperor, and you can’t help but think this might be the sort of man you’d steal from, had it not been for the elaborate duelling pistols that he has draped across his hips.

When you see Hosea beside him you stand, a grin automatically leaps across your face despite the somewhat uncomfortable introduction his friend had made.

“Well San Denis I believe, but before that out here in West Elizabeth” Hosea says as he takes you in.

Hosea extends an arm and pulls you towards him and you accept the embrace happily. It’s been too long since you’ve seen him in person. He’s aged so much, his stature a little less imposing than it used to be, but he carries his age in a way that very few can. It’s sort of like his character was supposed to be in this body and was simply waiting until it came to fruition.

“Thank you for this,” you said softly and earnestly, so that only Hosea can really hear. You’re still slightly wary of the man that’s come with him, not ready to trust him quite yet.

“It’s quite alright. Get your bag, let’s go inside” He says, turning you around “What do you think Dutch? Do we have time for a drink?”

The name hits you the second that Hosea says it. You’re reminded of stories that Hosea would tell you when you were younger of his partner in crime. A valiant outlaw king who lead his gang with a firm but fair hand and committed heists of such grandeur it made most other gunslingers look like children.

You’re suddenly aware of the fact your awe must have shown on your face, as Dutch laughs a little and puffs his chest up. You can practically see his ego glowing happily, the thought that he probably hasn’t been recognised for a while and is living for your childlike wonder passes through your mind.

“I should hope so” He says in his distinct voice, and gestures with his arm towards the door of the saloon.

Taking your trunk, you let the two men walk you into the saloon and take a seat by the window overlooking the street outside.

“I will say it was quite a surprise when Hosea wanted to bring you into our camp” Dutch says as he takes a seat opposite you, and you feel suddenly as though you’re about to be interrogated. Hosea gives you a look as if to say he can’t help you, and you settle back into your seat.

Dutch calls for a set of whiskey’s that you accept gratefully, and he begins to press at you, though he does a masterful attempt at disguising his questions. You entertain him, giving him the answers you know he needs to hear, feed that broken ego by telling him how much you’ve heard of him, and how you truly have no other option but to ask for his help. You take care to place emphasis on how you’re entirely at his mercy in this situation. Subtly Hosea nods and smiles as he listens to you. He’s not looking at anyone in the conversation, but rather the fly that’s investigating the surface around his whisky glass. There’s something akin to pride that settles on his hardened features as you talk, and you’re acutely aware of the way this faded hero of the outlaw world dressed in kings’ clothes laps up your pity story with vigour as you lay it out in front of him.

“Well I’ll say it certainly seems like you’re in quite the situation” Dutch says as he runs a finger over the rim of his nearly empty whisky glass before flicking it and letting the dainty noise ring out. Hosea looks at Dutch then with expectancy.

“Yes, it’s become rather difficult”

Hosea raises an eyebrow at your hidden sarcasm, but Dutch doesn’t seem to pick up on it. This is a language that you and Hosea have studied thoroughly seems to travel over Dutch’s head. You now know why Hosea stays so close to him, you can tell this man would fall for any flattery trick you threw his way. He would be most easily manipulated if you needed to, he’s quite vulnerable to a con with that rusted crown falling over his eyes.

“You must understand that everyone in my gang is very dear to me, and the gang is very dear to them. They all pull their weight for the greater good of the family,” you can feel an offer hiding behind his teeth, just waiting for the right time to come out “would you do that? ‘Sing for your supper’ so to speak”

“Of course,” you offer without hesitation

He nods, leaning back in the chair slightly and looks at Hosea for a moment before turning back to you. He rests his hands upon the table, and now you can see the faint scars that hide beneath his golden rings.

“I want you to prove that to me,” He says, he looks like he’s presented you with a meal after you’ve been starving for months, benevolent and gracious.

“How?” you ask after a moment of seeking Hosea’s eyes.

“I want you to rob someone. Should be simple enough” Dutch looks past Hosea and out onto the street “Like him. I want you to steal something from him”

Your response gets trapped in your throat when you follow Dutch’s subtly pointed finger. There’s no question as to who he’s asking you to rob as the only people on view are the couple from earlier. Some voice in you tells you not to do anything, to reject the offer and suggest perhaps one of the men within the saloon, but there’s an air of finality it the way that Dutch had said it that makes you think it’ll do you no favours to try and change his choice. Yet despite this their little show of kindness had made you against the idea of stealing from them.

“Can you do that for me, dear?” His voice is low and filled with dangerous promises that make your fingers twitch with barely restrained excitement.

“This isn’t how I usually do this” you say, trying to hide your reluctance.

“Like a game”

You can also find this on AO3 by the way! Feel free to drop in an ask about what you want to see or anything you want to know!

#My writing #slow burn #Arthur morgan x reader #Arthur morgan imagines #Arthur morgan #rdr x reader #rdr2 x reader #rdr2

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bleepblopbloop56 · 6 years ago

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Dimitris entrance in the blanket fort au

Ive been concidering writing something multi chaptered for the blanket fort au and if i do, this needs to be posted first. Please remember im not an author. Im an artist, i dont write things often..

Trigger warning: implied child abuse

“Hey- HEY kid!” Dimitris heart stopped at the sound of someone calling out to him, he dropped the paint can and started gathering his stuff to run?when it called out again, this time softer.

“Kiddo hold on! Come inside lets talk for a minuet. We really dont wanna call the cops ob you hon, come on”

And maybe it was because it was 1am, or the kindness in the older mans voice, or maybe dimitri was just tired of running. For whatever reason, he listened. He slumped his shoulders and walked twords the porch, ready to face the man whos car he had just defaced.

When he walked into the light of the front porch he got a closer look and saw not one, but two men. One with big circular glasses in light blue pajamas covered in cats. Another was a tall man with a stern look in his face, a look that softened slightly when he saw the boy.

“Cold out here aint it?” The blue one giggled “come on inside”

The tall one in black walked in first, flipping on the kitchen light and turning on the coffee machine. “I'm Logan, this is my husband Patton. Sit down.” Logan gestured to a chair at the table and he sat down. He was just gonna fuck up some cars and then run, but here he is.

“ coffee? “ patton chirped up, looking him in the eyes with a soft look.

“Oh um.. Yeah please” dimitris face heated up at the kindness. Hes starting to feel bad about tagging his car.

“Have you eaten?” Logan asked, searching in the fridge. Maybe he wouldnt have been so forgiving if it was an adult, but this was a kid, couldn't be much older than his own two no doubt easdroping from their rooms.

Dimitri looks down at the table.”no sir”

Why were they being so nice? He did something wrong. He broke the law and defaced their car anf they were offering him dinner? What the fuck is happening?

“Kiddo what were you doing out there?” Patton sat down across from him, a worried look in his eyes and a coffee cup in his hand.

“ i was just having some fun sir” dimitri said, not meeting the kind eyes he new were waiting for him.

“Fun?” Logan aksed, voice annoyed again. He slipped the plate of leftover dinner on the table fresh from the microwave. “You call spray painting my car neon green fun?”

“Logan” the other man spoke up placing a hand on his shoulder. Logan took a breath and say down with his own cup of coffee.

“Listen, we dont want to call the cops. Youre just a kid. How bout you just give us your name, let us call you parents, and you can be on your way.”

And once again his heart stopped. Color drained from his face and he looked up at the two men sitting across from him.

“Please dont call my dad! Mister please i'm begging you- you dont know what he'll do to me please he'll beat the shit lut of me” tears began brimming in his eyes, and he angerly wiped them away. Patton was the first one to say anything after his outburst.

“ logan can i speak to you in the other room”

5 minuets later the couple walked back in, holding hands, and ushered away the set of twins in the kitchen 'just getting a drink of water’ or so they claimed. (Inactuality they were trying to get a better look at the intruder, staring him down and bombarding him with questions)

“Kiddo look, whats your name?” Patton started.

“Dimitri.”

“Look dimitri, we dont wanna do anything thatll put you in danger at home. I wanna make a deal with you okay? Come back tommorow and help clean up logans car, then well never have to bring this up again okay?”

And it wouldve been the easiest thing in the world to lie. To say hed come back and never hold true to that. It wouldve been so easy to look him in the eyes and lie. But he didnt.

“Thank you sir” he said instead, finishing up his dinner and gulping down his coffee.

“And enough with the 'sir's buddy! Call me patton.”

“Thank you patton”

#thomas sanders #sander sides #ts deceit #sympathetic deceit #logicality #blanket fort au #patton sanders #logan sanders

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murderdeathjoe · 5 years ago

Note

Jackie and Joe

@jxckiechxse

Collating all the domestic ship memes together into one post, send me a ship and I’ll tell you:

* Who’s more dominant: Strangely enough, Jackie is. Joe is the epitome of smoldering fire.

* Who’s the cuddler: Jackie is. Joe runs warm enough at nights to be her favorite blanket.

* Who’s the big spoon/little spoon: Jackie prefers to curl up on her blanket’s back and go immediately to sleep.

* What’s their favorite non-sexual activity: Kickboxing class! Well…his. She’s found it a good outlet.

* Who uses all the hot water: Jackie does. Its that, or come to bed smelling like a cemetery-slash-fruit display.

* Most trivial thing they fight over: Just where that damn dog is going to sleep. The dog wins.

* Who does most of the cleaning: With their travel and workload? He pays someone for that.

* What has a season pass on their dvr/Who controls the netflix queue: Jackie does. The most mind numbing programming as well, and no cooking shows. They’re not good for her heart.

* Who calls up the super/landlord when the heat’s not working: .Joe IS the landlord. If he can’t hammer it, it aint broke.

* Who leaves their stuff around: Jackie used to be a clothing bomb earlier in the relationship, but has gotten much better.

* Who remembers to buy the milk: Joe does. Jackie’s trips to the market are for work purchasing. She’s yet to learn how to scale down.

* Who remembers anniversaries: Joe. If not, he’ll blame PCS or remember an hour into it with an “Ah Shit…”

* Who cooks normally: He enjoys her cooking, even outside of the job.

* How often do they fight: Around weekly. He’s learned often not to escalate or even dignify most arguments.

* What do they do when they’re away from each other: Work. And avoid letting their worlds collide.

* Nicknames for each other: None really. “Babe/Baby” are a recent development and neither is sure why.

* Who is more likely to pay for dinner: Joe is. Jackie is far too tough of an evaluator on food to tip accordingly.

* Who steals the covers at night: Joe does. Jackie is good with her Samoan blanket.

* What would they get each other for gifts: You’ll see.

* Who kissed who first: Joe kissed her. He went for it, she accepted happily.

* Who made the first move: Jackie did. Almost brazenly. Took him quickly by surprise.

* Who remembers things: Joe does. She chalks it up to bad habits at an early age.

* Who started the relationship: He did. Figured she’s a good one to sew up quickly.

* Who cusses more: She does. Its almost artistic.

* What would they do if the other one was hurt: Hurting Samoa Joe = Dangerous. Hurting someone close to Samoa Joe = Death Sentence.

* Who is the dirty talker: Jackie is. It’s a symphony at times between gasps and moans.

* A head canon: Jackie’s family is far more estranged than Joe’s. He figured out that quickly, and the Orange County Samoan clan have accepted her happily. Even if she’s “a little light in the ass”.

#sorry so late!#ship meme

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clown-bait · 6 years ago

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A Very Monster Christmas (Monster Roommate AU) PT5

H-Hey everybody? This took me 5000 years to write. I have no excuse so I'm just gonna release both of the final chapters at once and then the first for part 3 so everyone is happy.

CH22 Babies Were a Mistake

“Don’t touch it!”

“Junior quit being a baby and hold still”

“No! Get away from me!” Hissed a very upset monster clown with a knife in his eye. His uncle threw up his hands in defeat returning to his chair. The giant seated next to him fidgeted nervously knowing that his landlord could get very violent when wounded. A soft hand landed on Bubba’s arm and the giant cannibal looked over to leech’s mom smiling sweetly at him. “Sweetheart will you hold him for me?”

The masked killer blinked clearly scared of the monster clown howling in pain on the floor. “Its ok big fella I’m going to make him stop.” the witch said calmly reaching into her bag. “You need to hold him for me though can you do that?”

“BABIES WERE A MISTAKE!” Penny roared and screamed still clutching his face.

“I am so glad to be awake to see this.” the elder Pennywise sighed happily resting his head on his hand with a toothy grin as he watched the younger clown sob in pain. Leatherface stood and cautiously approached the shrieking eldritch who’s other eye tore open solid red and black with anger. “DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH ME!” he snarled and snapped his enormous fangs wildly like a wounded animal. Leech’s mom slowly approached him from the front and held out a small bag of herbs which she poured into a small ashtray and set it on fire. “Shhh inhale the smoke.”

“NO! NO ONE APPROACH I WILL TEAR YOUR FLESH FROM YOUR BONES!”

“Sally doll, sit down and let em’ cry it out like the baby he is.” the elder clown suggested starting to grow worried for his date’s safety. His worry was quickly gone when Sally Smith snatched the roaring monster harshly by the ear and pulled hard motioning for Leatherface to grab his arms as the creature whined in pain.

“Inhale.” the woman said sternly and shoved the smoking embers to his red nose. Pennywise had no choice but to breathe in the smoke deep into his lungs exhaling it with a couple coughs as his body relaxed. The witch quickly removed the small knife from his eye earning a pained roar from the restrained eldritch who was released and immediately skittered into a corner slumped over in pain. Tiff who had been watching stared at the substance in the bowl with wonder. “What was that you gave him some sort of magic herbs?”

“Oh no sweetie just simple cannabis!”

The doll blinked a few times as the elder pennywise began to howl with laughter from his chair “Yeah you're Fangs’ mom alright.”

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

A howl filled the air as a group of hunters made their way down the snowy streets of the town of Derry. The sound rattled the doll and put the vampires into a state of extreme alert their fourth companion simply groaned. Three figures appeared in front of them and two from behind. The hunter’s own arrogance had shifted their position to the role of prey. “Pen’s gonna kill me” Leech groaned as the bones in her hands snapped and reformed.

“Get in the middle of us apprentice. He will kill us before you if we return you with so much as a scratch.”

“I appreciate the gentlemanly gesture Dracula but I can handle myself. Besides you Fred's got no power here and Chucky has a bread knife. You boys really think you'd be more effective against fucking werewolves than a juiced up vampire?”

“Ouch Fangs.”

“If you want to fight fido alone be my guest Chuck.”

“She has a point, I really don't want to deal with going through another resurrection on the holidays. Phil gets weird during this time of year.”

“Holy shit I’ll say did you see him last week he freakin headbutted a nativity display and started eating the manger! Could have just been hungry though….could have also just been a regular goat.”

“Who the fuck else in this town has a giant ass black goat with a leggings fetish?”

“I don't know Fred goats are really popular right now they're all over Instagram!”

Dracula let out a long sigh and stepped backwards “Myers.” he tried to say over the arguing friends.

“What? What does Mikey have to do with goat yoga?” Freddy asked before suddenly being torn from his standing position and chucked into a wall.

“That.”

The masked killer casually kicked a shrieking Chucky into a trash can and both vampires found their necks being squeezed in the vice like grip of The Shape himself as a pack of women surrounded them from behind.

“Hello blood suckers!” Sandy the werewolf said cheerfully behind the tall slasher.

“You're dating Myers?” Leech wheezed and tried to claw her way out of the grip on her throat.

“I am! Thank you for finally asking!”

Dracula cursed loudly in Romanian as winds picking up strongly through the alleyway.

“Sandy have them put down, we need to have a little talk.” Laurie nudged her sisters arm who motioned for her boyfriend to release them.

“You!” Leech hissed “Couldn't settle for my familiar could you bitch!”

“Jim and I broke up vampire!” the she wolf snarled with obvious pain in her voice. Dracula took notice of the tear in her eye.

“Yeah it was very sad be nicer!” one of the other sisters chimed in and Leech slashed forward in warning holding up her injured hand.

“Your leader tried to kill me and cut off my fucking finger! I think we're past being nice!”

“Its just a finger bloodsucker.”

“She tortured me!”

“And you turned her into Hamburger Helper!”

“I think I had the right to!”

“Stop taking credit for that Fangs that was your damn demon spawn!” Freddy interrupted deciding to join the argument.

“I helped make them Fred I can claim credit!”

“You’re pregnant?” Laurie said in shock as Dracula continued to awkwardly stare.

“See me,” he whispered “See me now.” Laurie glanced over at him and gave an uncomfortable wave.

“Oh great now everyone knows.” Leech rolled her soulless eyes and retracted her fangs.

“How?” Sandy asked and then grimaced in disgust when she remembered what manner of beast the vampire was dating “On second thought maybe don't share that.”

“It was actually a pretty normal process surprisingly, what isnt normal is the eldritch horror morning sickness” Leech casually sheathed her claws and fixed her coat.

“Oh well um congratulations then?” Sandy said almost confused.

“Yeah uh thanks... I’m still kinda processing it all myself.” Leech laughed nervously.

“Well this is hella awkward. I’m not gonna fight a pregnant woman.” one of the girls said.

“Yeah you know we were gonna come and get our revenge and what not but to be honest it's just kinda weird now.” Laurie said side eyeing a still wide eyed Dracula.

“You guys uh….. you guys know where we can get something to eat?” the younger vampire asked. “Kids need some food you know.”

“Y-yeah there's a frat party down the street from us you can grab someone there.”

“Cool……...um so is this like a truce or….”

“Its christmas man just forget about it.” Sandy took her tall silent boyfriend by the arm signaling to leave.

“Yeah alright. Cool. See you at work then.”

“The fuck is going on?” Chucky shouted from the trash can.

“Weird ass women shit Chuck.” Freddy said as he tipped the can over.

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

Pennywise squatted in the corner of the decaying kitchen lapping at a bowl of eggnog like an extremely dangerous kitten. His good eye darted around defensively as he lapped the obnoxiously sweet drink. He didn't even notice the front door bursting open or the loud thud in the living room of his mate returning with a large meal.

Leech draped the muscled youth over the coffee table like a hunter proudly showing their family the prized turkey they caught for dinner. She even began placing her boot on his rear to show off even further.

“He's still passed out drac and I have been keeping him drained and Fred’s been keeping him scared in dreamland. It only took two of my special mix to get him falling on his ass not bad for a pregnant lady I'll say!” Leech beamed wide and knocked on the young man's skull. “Hey Fred you good in there?” the limp body jerked his arm up in a thumbs up position.

“Not bad?! All you did was flash the guy a little cleavage and hand him a couple shots. Where's the finesse?” Chucky complained carrying a large stolen pizza box with what looked like a bloody hand print on the sides. “You shoulda seen what I did to the pizza guy now that was art!”

“I'm not going for art I'm going for easy. My family was hungry and I provided.”

“Yeah yeah you're a strong woman Fangs, we're all very impressed now go clean up your idiot for us.” the elder clown called out to her casually sipping the sweet spiked eggnog that sat perched in his gloves. Leech groaned and put her hand to her face.

“Jesus the fuck did he do this time?”

Chucky looked up and snarled finally noticing the lack of twins in the room. “I said it once and I'll say it again blood sucker, I aint paying for therapy.”

The kitchen was much quieter than out there with all the noise and chatter and merryment. Pennywise wrinkled his nose in disgust and snarled still cradling his wound and purring in an attempt to heal himself. Babies were a mistake. Who was he kidding he was the eater of worlds and children. He hated children and here he was on his way to becoming a father. Oh the irony. The clown groaned and held his head tighter shutting his good eye to try to escape further.

“Mr. Pennywise?”

His eye flew back open.

“Mr. Pennywise I-Im sorry about Glenda. She takes after dad I think. Much better at the family business than I am.”

Pennywise’s breathing grew harder and his pained purring became an alarming growl as Chucky’s son bravely got closer.

“Mum says you’ll try to eat me if I came to talk to you but I don’t think you’re so bad.”

“You are quite the fool then boy.” He finally said giggling to himself a bit before wincing in pain. Glen stopped for a moment then continued forward.

“I-I just want to tell you that I thought your tricks were real neat that's all.”

The clown's growling softened and his molten yellow eye soothed. Maybe it won't be all bad, this one at least could appreciate perfection when he saw it.

“Um they have dinner out there if you want any.”

From a hole in the ceiling Leech watched her mate unfold himself and take his glove from his eye which was already beginning to heal. The boy bravely took the hand of his natural predator and led him out. He definitely had a long way to go but this was progress. She smiled to herself and felt the tug of exhaustion once again. “We'll get there together eventually.” she sighed and slipped away stepping back from the others and into the comfort the shadows.

#pennywise #pennywise x oc #pennywise fanfiction #slasher fanfiction #horror fiction #freddy krueger #chucky #Charles Lee Ray #tiffany valentine #bubba sawyer #monster roommate au #it fanfiction

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writingdreamy-blog · 7 years ago

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Kickin’ it in the end Ch 1

Fandom: The Walking Dead

Pairing: Merle Dixon/OC

Warning: It’s Merle yall, there will be some racists stuff on here, that’s just his character. And swearing. (Please 18+ only)

I am not a racists... don’t even think of calling me that, that is your one and only warning.

Note: God I love Merle, I met him on Sunday (-insert fangirl scream loudly-)

She ran. She ran as fast as she could, even more than her lungs would allow. She had to get away… Away from Officer Lerner and Officer Gorman she was not ‘his’ nor would she take another beating from Dawn for no good reason. It wasn’t easy escaping from there the falling death trap was nearly her demise but one way or another she got out it helped that she did have a rope tied away for her to get her half way there; the dead cushioned her fall. She had somehow hotwired one of the cars, she was just lucky her less than stellar brother had taught her some things that her parents would frown upon.

She didn’t look back, from every scary movie she ever watched, every horror mystery novel she ever read pointed to one thing… don’t look back, don’t look back if you want to live… that and don’t make stupid decisions.

She came to a four way street, looking back and forth. The dead were everywhere, thankfully they were distracted by something; it sounded like gun fire. She took a second to catch her breath and to tie her amethyst purple hair back into a ponytail. The rotters were going one way and she was made sure she was going another.

Taking a left she continued to briskly walk, no need to run from the living or the dead when they were not pursuing her. Atlanta was not the same she saw just weeks ago, the dead walked the streets and everywhere she looked there were scorch marks from the bombs that were dropped weeks ago. Suddenly the winds shifted, she was now upwind from the walkers. She froze, and looked around; suddenly some rotters took notice of her. Their undead eyes zeroed in on her figure and they snarled their horrible snarl. She knew. She would be dead meat if she did not run now!

She continued to hear the gun shots, maybe Dawn had found her, or found other rotters. She would not be going back to the hell hole, nor would she be eaten by rotters.

She ran to a less occupied alleyway, she had no weapon just her hand as her only companion, after attacking some staff inside the hospital –Gorman- she was not allotted anything sharp or potentially dangerous. Eventually she lost the damn rotters. She slowed to a brisk walk, when she did see the rotters there was something up. They were riled up about something, and thankfully it was not about her, they were moving to a place only they knew. Then she heard it. The sound of a car alarm; she stepped out of the alleyway just in time to see a red muscle car streak by her. At least the idiot was drawing the corpses away from her. She was about to turn away and backtrack when she noticed that the car had also drawn a herd into her hiding spot.

“Crap!” she hissed, she took off running, hopefully they’d be distracted by the car rather than a living breathing dinner dash. Unfortunately that was not the case. Soon twenty corpses were all around, too much for her to handle. Everything was becoming a dead end –pun intended- she looked around, praying to God that if He got her out, she’d ever be so grateful.

By chance or grace, her eyes landed on an open door. “Thanks God” she whispered, this may be her last lucky streak. She dashed to the open door hoping there were no rotters inside. To her relief there were no living and only two rotters. She shut and locked the door behind her, the banging and snarling soon followed through, she just barely escaped the outside. She had not forgotten the two dead inside, the larger one: a male, came at her, his teeth bared and his arms outstretched to grab her. She let him come close when she then kicked him squarely in the chest sending him stumbling back and with renewed fury came at her again. She looked around; the building appeared to be the back of a restaurant. There was nothing much around but she did see a knife on the floor. She grabbed it quickly; when her buddy came back at her she stabbed him in the face with no remorse.

The second rotter came at her now, it was a young female. She figured it was the male’s daughter. She dispatched the smaller rotter quickly and placed both corpses side by side. She looked sadly at the two, they probably tried so hard to survive and in the end they both died, probably one turned and the other one couldn’t get away or didn’t want to get away.

She heard the pounding on the door and jumped, this was a reminder than down stairs was not safe. She saw some stairs and she decided to take the high ground and ascended the stairs. There was a door separating the stairs from the second level. She peeked inside and saw two rotters, once again nothing she couldn’t handle.

They were feasting on a small cat, she dispatched the first one easy however because she was too eager to kill them that she lost her butcher knife and now she had lost the element of surprise; the rotter growled as it stood on wobbly legs. She backed up and her back hit the wall. Her hand was feeling the wall for anything to escape by. Her fingers found a door knob; she was about to check and see if it was locked but suddenly without any warning it flew open and it nearly jammed her fingers in the process. A man stumbled through his stump was bleeding and in one hand he had a wrench in his one hand. The rotter growled at him.

She was stunned as he killed the rotter as if it was second nature. However after he killed the rotter he fell to his knees in agony, holding his stump close to him. He was cursing to nobody but himself and some man called ‘Officer Friendly’.

She decided to make herself known, “Hey Mister… you bit” she called out.

The older man’s head shot up quickly and he looked around, some spit flew from his mouth. He saw her peeking from behind the door he had just barged through unannounced. “What the hell does it look like?!” he growled. He got up to his feet and she shrunk back. With no weapon to defend her, he could easily harm her or worse. Her hands against a wrench, he’d definitely win.

“I-I’m just asking, what happened to your hand?” she felt slightly brave as she stepped away from the door. She saw how he grimaced in pain as waves of pain coursed through him. “I can help with that” she added.

“Don’t need yer help sugar tits” he hissed as he looked around the kitchen area.

“I came from a hospital, I was able to take some wraps and pain killers” she offered again.

“Ain’t gonna help if I bleed out” he replied as he stumbled about. It must have hurt something fierce.

“Oh, right… well” she looked sheepishly down, now she just felt stupid for her generosity. She pulled her purple hair out of the ponytail and ran her fingers though her hair, it was a way to relieve her stress, she then put her hair back into ponytail.

He looked at the awkward woman, he sighed, “If you want to be of any use to me go find something to stop the bleeding”. She nodded dumbly, what could she find?

She then walked around searching the cabinets and drawers for something. She saw a stove and tried to turn it on, however the gas was not working and thee pilot would not light. Go figure. In a cabinet adjacent to the stove she found five Bunsen Burners. She smiled in triumph! But quickly that melted as she realized what they would be doing. This meant they’d be burning his flesh to stop the bleeding. She had smelt burnt flesh before; it was not a pleasant smell. The very memory of it nearly made her gag.

“Hey Mister I found some burners!” She called out; out of the five she tucked two away into her bag. She looked around for something to heat and clean to help cauterize the stump. She had found an old metal iron. She turned on the burners and held it over the flames to help warm it up.

The man had found some water bottles and that would help clean the wound, or at least wash it off. The man stumbled over to her, his stump still bleeding and leaving a gruesome trail. She feared that he had lost too much blood. “We have to clean the wound first” she said softly, she had no antiseptic so the best they could do is wash off the stump with water. She took one of the few water bottles and offered her hand out to him. He grimaced and offered her his stump. She swallowed thickly and with shaky hands washed off his stump. Momentarily it was clean, and the second she saw the damage she nearly vomited; she could see the bone and jagged flesh… she never did really like human anatomy.

He saw he discomfort and scoffed at her queasiness, “What? Aint never seen a bone before sugar tits?” She shook her head wordlessly, he internally rolled his eyes then grabbed the hot iron. He himself hesitated before he placed the hot iron on his flesh. He clenched his jaw so hard he felt like his teeth may give way. The pain was like nothing he ever felt before, it was worse than his Daddy’s belt or hand, no injury ever inflicted upon him was nothing compared to this pain however he powered through it, because if he didn’t then he’d most certainly die.

She marveled at his self-restrain, if it was her she would be crying and screaming for mercy. The putrid smell of burning flesh quickly permeated the room. The disgusting smell was too much for her nose, she tried to breathe through her mouth however it made it no better; now she could taste the burning flesh. She could only take so much and she succumbed to her body and vomited in the corner.

As she was cleaning herself up she heard the man groan, “Dammit! That hurt” it was over quickly, and his stump was crudely sealed closed, it would hold till he could get any sort of proper treatment later. He stumbled back and leaned against a wall, there was a sheen of sweat covering his face as he was trying to calm himself down.

She cautiously walked over to him, “Hey, you okay?” She noticed how sweaty he was and how his dirty and bloody, black wife beater clung to his body. He didn’t seem to be skinny or overly buff but more of a full body, toned muscle and a hint of a beer belly.

“The bleach really fried your brain didn’t it?” he asked as he looked at her, her jacket was too big for her body and a grey shirt clung to her body her pants which should have been a light blue were grey and smudged with dirt and oil.

For a second she forgot that her hair was purple, she was lucky that she didn’t die in the hospital when they all found out that she had dyed her hair and ‘use of valuable water’…. It was rain water, not the drinking water. She pursed her lips and folded her arms over her chest, “No! I just… haven’t seen anything like this before”.

The man bit back a rude comment, he sighed as he struggled to his feet; with the smell of blood and flesh in the air the walkers would be all over this place in minutes. He made his way the same way she came in.

“Wait!” she shouted a little too loud, she lifted her arm to stop him, “Don’t go that way, I came in that way”.

He paused as he looked back at her, a small sneer on his face, “ I aint gonna be trapped in here. Hell, I need to go get my little brother… he needs me” he said, however the last part seemed most likely to himself. “And then go have a pleasant talk with that n****r, T-Dawg” he said the name so venomously that she was surprised that he didn’t spit on the ground right in front of him.

She flinched at the derogatory name, she was brought up to never say the ‘n’ word and here this man said it without any hesitation. He turned back around to go down the stairs. She then went over to him, “Mister please wait. I want to get out of Atlanta just as bad as you –trust me- but you just traumatized your body! Please stay and rest, or rest until the rotters go away.” With hesitation she placed her hand on his shoulder. The connection of her hand on his clothed shoulder gave her reason to believe he was actually there and the traumatizing event really did happen.

He shrugged off her comforting hand, “Fine, but by day break I am leaving” he told her. She believed he left this as an open invitation for her to come along. He wondered back to his place by the wall. She smiled brilliantly at him… she was too happy for a day like today.

“Great! Just relax, imma explore this place; they should have something around to eat or to help you” she said, standing and looking around.

The man sighed and nodded as he leaned his head against the wall and quickly dozed off. He must have been out for quite some time because when he came too he smelled beans and rice. He slowly opened his eyes.

The girl glanced up at him, and smiled –again too happy for this day and age- “Oh Mister, you’re awake! I made some beans and rice, I couldn’t find any tortillas to hold it though” she said.

He frowned, not ungrateful for the food but beans and rice was not a favorite food, “You’re a beaner aint ya? That’s all they ever eat, that and enchiladas” he sneered. She was surprised the white redneck could even say the name right.

She frowned, obviously this man didn’t care about throwing around racial slurs, “I am no more a beaner than you are a cracker” she retorted softly, not really wanting to irritate him too much where he’d think about hurting her or leaving her behind to die.

He smiled as he took a plate of food, “Touché” she at least had some bite to her. He took the plastic spoon and filled it with food. He’d much rather have a cold beer and some hot wings while watching a game but this would have to do.

“I also found some baby wipes, do you think that’s help with your arm?” she asked as she took her own plate.

He shrugged, “’m sure anything will help” he replied with food in his mouth.

He obviously was not raised with table manners; she took out the baby wipes and cautiously went over to him. She kneeled between his propped up legs. He tried to keep from leering at her but she looked so innocent with her big jade green eyes, and between his legs. His failed attempt to get Blondie into the sack left him sexually frustrated and here this young woman was willingly scooting towards him and into possible danger.

He had forgotten for a second why she was between his legs but his eyes drifted to her hands which held some baby wipes and some medical gauze. Oh yeah, she wanted to clean his stump. He didn’t want to acknowledge that he had only one hand left and she was willing to help him. She watched him expectantly; finally he extended his stump which was sitting uselessly by his side.

She smiled a small and shy smile and took his stump gingerly he grimaces slightly when the weak antiseptic hit his sensitive skin. “Sorry” she apologized as she saw his discomfort, “I didn’t think it’d sting.”

He remained silent as he watched her. Finally she finished up as she wrapped the gauze gingerly around his stump it would help keep diseases away. He peered at the window and saw there was only a little light left. She glanced up at him and noticed that he was looking at the windows, “You were out for about three hours, I thought you died on me, cause… well you know when people fall asleep right after they seem to die on the TV shows.”

He hummed back a response; life was not the same as a TV show, he felt a little rejuvenated now that he had rested and had food in his stomach. “I’ll take first watch” he offered as he placed the empty cup to the side. She looked at him.

“You sure mister? I can stay awake a little longer” she offered.

“Naw sugar tits, you need to rest also” he offered, she moved back to let him stand up. He struggled to his feet but once he was up he stood strong, she had figured that he may have been in the military at one point or another, judging by his gruff demeanor.

She grabbed some clothes that look like a cook’s uniform and bunched it into a ball to create a makeshift pillow. She grabbed her backpack and clung to it like it would keep her safe. Obviously she did not trust him, hell he wouldn’t even trust him. His drug high was already wearing off; his buzz was ruined by Officer Friendly… damn if only the dead were not patrolling the streets he’d snort some of his stuff already.

Now more than ever did he wish he had some pills to take the edge off of the pain. But once again he was reminded by Officer Friendly that his stuff was tossed off the side of the building.

He walked around the building that he was trapped in it reminded him like a caged tiger pacing back and forth, it wasn’t too bad to hide in but it was also a death trap. When he returned he saw his companion fast asleep, it was hard to believe that she could fall asleep to this. He made another lap, this is what he hated the most: boredom.

Roughly around three in the morning he woke the girl up. She jumped when he shook her. Her eyes were wide and terrified. “Calm down doll face, just waking you up for your turn to keep us safe.”

She nodded wordlessly and sat up, her back popping and her limbs stiff. She had slept but it was plagued with nightmares and pain. “Thanks” she replied as she stood. The man took her spot as he laid on his back. Within ten minutes he was snoring.

She smiled as she sat on a chair, neither one of them had any useful weapons, and neither of them were ready to face the outside world. She glanced out the window to view the moon and the millions of stars that most people would never see, she thought about her plan. Just run the hell out of Atlanta. Now she understood that if she went through with the plan she would have been a rotter also. The sun goes down, the stars come out and all that counts is here and now. Her universe will never be the same. She looked at her companion, “I’m glad you came” she whispered.

The man was an angel in disguise, he may not have known it but he was; a dirty, belligerent angel. She watched him and the steady movement of his chest going up and down. His black vest lay open and his black wife beater was still clinging to his body, she could see some chest hair poking out from the top, he was about a 6 or 7 on an attractive scale but she couldn’t be with somebody so racist and bull headed.

She sighed, this is not what she planned, and every moment spent in Atlanta was a chance for Dawn to find her or even worse; Gorman would find her and do a number on her or something heinous for running away. The man let out a loud and long snore as he turned to his side while scratching his stomach. He was a gruff man, she gave him kudos for not screaming in pain. But would he make for a good companion? She stood, not wanting to think about the man any more. She went down stairs to see if the ground was better to travel.

There was a small window in the back but the only way accessible would to stand on a table. When she was able to get high enough she peered through the window. The creatures were not as dense as in the morning, and they seemed to not walk with intention more of bumping into one another and into other things. One looked up and peered at her, its mouth growled as it stumbled toward the window. She ducked away before it could cause much ruckus.

She quickly ascended the steps only to be greeted by nearly black eyes peering at her, she gasped; her male companion was awake. “Oh…. Did I wake you?” she asked.

He was lounging on his side, him good arm propping him up, “Yeah, the second step is creaky” he wasn’t going to tell her that he would be dragging her back if she was going to leave out the door. That would be a bad move. He laid back down, “Try to not move around kid. You don’t want to alert the walkers to us”

She blinked and nodded, she noticed that he used the word ‘us’ it made her blush a little at the thought. She was going to say something when she noticed that he had fallen asleep again. She sat back down on the chair.

Soon the breaking dawn shined upon their building. The man stirred from his slumber and noticed the girl had dozed off a little, he cleared his throat loud enough to wake the girl. She woke with a startle and fell off the chair she was sitting on.

“ouch” She rubbed her side. He stood and stretched his back hearing the familiar popping of joints.

“Is there any food here?” he asked.

She nodded, “Yeah, I piled all the food in the other room” she began to stand when he stopped her.

“Don’t get up. Stretch, because after breakfast we are breaking the fuck outta here.” He told her and then went into the other room. She did as she was told; once she felt adequately stretched she meandered into the other room. What she saw made her gasp. The man was making breakfast. But by the smell it was not anything she had ever eaten in her life. He glanced over at her and saw her curious face, “What Sugar, never seen grits before?”

She shook her head, “No. I came from California, never had them before.”

The man whistled “Oh boy, didn’t know I had a Malibu Barbie on my hands, use to rub shoulders with all them super stars didn’t ya?”

She rolled her eyes, “Why does everybody think that of people who live in California? I have never met a celebrity in my life!”

He chuckled and shook his head, soon the food was done. Grits had an interesting taste, she wasn’t sure if she liked it or not. He was stretching his body when she did completely finish her food. He was packing food into her bag, with it bulging at the seams she wondered if she could even lift it.

She walked over to him, “I don’t think my bag can hold much more” He grabbed it and hefted it over his shoulder; well she didn’t have to worry about carrying it.

“’kay Sugar you ready? We go south that is the fastest way to get out of Atlanta. We don’t stop running got it?” She nodded, her heart was pounding, and fear was coursing through her bones. The dead would surly catch up to them. She was afraid.

They descended the steps and she retrieved her little steak knife from the skull of the last rotter she killed. That was the only weapon she had and the man had a wrench. He opened the back door and looked around. There was not many dead.

She froze in her steps, “I-I don’t think this is a good idea, maybe we should wait for somebody to come rescue us.”

He eased himself out and grabbed her arm and forced her out, he was not going to let her chicken out on him. She let out a squeak, “C’mon don’t be a chicken shit.”

He shushed her and began to lead. Her companion looked around once they left the alleyway; she wondered if he was looking for something because there were no rotters around so he wasn’t looking for danger.

It was about midafternoon by the time they hit the freeway they had to hide too many times the biters seemed to enjoy the morning and came out in droves. They finally came to a fence there, sitting there was a moving van.

She blinked as her head swiveled back and forth. This was a hell of a find if it had gas and could take them away from this Hell hole. The man had the same idea as he cautiously walked toward the van. She cautiously knocked on the van wall for anybody that may be inside. A few seconds passed and nothing happened. She smiled, assuming that nobody would be stupid enough to stay quiet, “Hey, anybody in there?” she asked. She was answered with silence.

The man went straight for the cabin and turned the keys. The truck grurgled to life, the gas tank showed it was only about half a tank full. She smiled as she intended to hop into the passenger side when his large hand clamed upon her forearm. He looked seriously at her, “You aint taking the easy route sugartits. My arm hurts and if I need to swerve I won’t be able to keep a hold of the wheel” She frowned as she then went around and took the driver’s side. He slid into the passenger side.

“Is there any place you have in mind? Maybe a camp?” she asked. He nodded.

“Yeah, the abandoned rock quarry” he drawled on as he leaned his head back against the seat.

She looked at him incredulously, “And you honestly think I’d know where that is?” she asked, “I am not a local here… remember Malibu Barbie?”

He chuckled, “Yeah I know, Barbie”

She furrowed her brows, “My name isn’t Barbie.”

“Oh yeah? What is it Sugar?”

“It’s Amanda McKnight” she replied.

He whistled, “Oh, you aint no Beaner, yer a Paddy!”

She rolled her eyes, choosing to ignore it, “And what is your name?”

He smiled as his eyes closed, “Dixon” he relaxed a little his cocky attitude was at bay for a second, “Merle Dixon”

#the walking dead #merle dixon #Merle/OC #Everybody's favorite racist asshole #He will be redeemed #New fic #Please be nice

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imjustthemechanic · 7 years ago

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The Stone Knight

Part 1/? - Two Statues Part 2/? - A Curious Interview Part 3/? - John Doe Part 4/? - Escape Attempt Part 5/? - Making the News Part 6/? - Fallout Part 7/? - More Impossible Part 8/? - The Shield Thieves Part 9/? - Reality Sinks In Part 10/? - Preparing a Quest Part 11/? - The Marvelous History of Sir Stephen Part 12/? - Uninvited Guests Part 13/? - So That’s What It Does Part 14/? - The What and the Where Part 15/? - Gearing Up Part 16/? - Just Passing Through Part 17/? - Dinner with Druids Part 18/? - Kracness Henge

Featuring two things that were going to have to be in this fic somewhere.

The further north they went, the more Scottish the landscape became. There were fewer trees, more rocks, colder winds, and mistier drizzle. It was enough to make Natasha wonder why the hell England had spent most of the middle ages trying to conquer this place. The Romans had certainly known better. They'd built Hadrian's Wall specifically to keep Scotland out.

And the town of Galltair definitely didn't look like a place anyone would bother to conquer. It was a tiny cluster of buildings around a small harbour, with a sign that claimed a population of sixty-five people. The sea and the sky were both a foreboding shade of slate grey, the former heavily overcast and the latter leaping onto the stony shoreline in showers of spray. It was a deeply unfriendly landscape. The human presence here was like a cluster of barnacles on a ring, clinging as tight as it could so as not to get blown away.

The people, however, were hospitable enough, and it didn't take them long to find a man who was willing to let them charter his boat. Looking at him, Natasha wondered if he might be another fantasy brought to life, because he was the perfect image of a Salty Old Sea Dog. He had white hair and a steel-grey moustache, and wore a cable-knit sweater, a pair of battered aviator sunglasses, and a peaked cap with the name Stanley embroidered across the front.

“Not that I'm gonna turn down a few bob,” he said, a cigarette dangling out of the corner of his mouth as he hunted through a drawer for some papers, “but if you're going to Orkney, why don't you take the ferry?”

“Because we're not going to Orkney,” Natasha said. “We're going directly to Flotta, and directly back.”

“Flotta?” asked the Sea Dog. “What are you going to Flotta for? Aint' nobody up there but the refinery.”

“That's not quite true,” said Natasha. She opened her mouth to give him an explanation, then stopped short. Was it a good idea to lie to him? Nat was good at lies and she'd prepared a quite reasonable story about exactly why they wanted to go to Flotta and what they would be doing there... but now she looked at Rushman out of the corner of her eye, and the words stuck in her throat. In this world they found themselves in, a plausible lie was a very dangerous thing. If this one suddenly came true, there would be nobody to stand between Totenkopf and the Grail.

Apparently she waited too long to answer, but Sir Stephen stepped in and did it for her. “We are on a quest,” he said, “begun many a century ago.”

The Sea Dog grinned. “Oh, I see! Well, he who'd cross the Pentland Firth must answer me these questions three, ere the other side he see!” He found the paper he'd been looking for, photocopied it by, so far as Nat could tell, faxing it to himself, and pulled a pen out of an old tin on his desk. “What,” he asked, “is your name?”

The question was directed at Sir Stephen, and he answered it: “Sir Stephen of Rogsey.”

“What... is your quest?” asked the Sea Dog.

“We seek the Holy Grail,” said Sir Stephen.

Sam pretended to cough so nobody would hear him snickering. Nat decided enough was enough and moved to interrupt before Sir Stephen could realize he was being made fun of, but Carter caught her sleeve.

I wanna see what he says, the other woman mouthed.

“And what... is the airspeed of a laden swallow?” the Sea Dog demanded.

Sir Stephen frowned. “I beg your pardon?”

“African swallow?” asked Rushman. “Or European?”

“You're not allowed to answer for him!” protested the Sea Dog.

“Actually,” Natasha spoke up, “in the movie nobody ever tried to answer for somebody else, so we don't actually know that it's against the rules.”

The Sea Dog considered that. “Fair,” he decided. “All right, now for real, I need your names and the reason for your trip.”

Nat gritted her teeth. It was time to just lie and hope for the best. Maybe they'd be okay if more of the people present disbelieved it than believed it. “I'm Dr. Natalie Rushman. I'm an archaeologist with the University of Dundee. I'm going to Flotta to do a re-survey of Kracness Henge, prior to submitting an application to excavate. Officer Sharon Carter is here to make sure we follow all the regulations, Dr. Samuel Wilson is in case somebody falls off a rock and breaks their neck, and my father Allen and my fiance Steve Rogers are coming to assist me.”

The Sea Dog wrote that down. As he did, he glanced around at the others, who all nodded. Sir Stephen apparently felt something more was required, because he put a hand on Natasha's shoulder and with a terribly false smile said, “yes, we are to be wed!”

Sam came periolously close to laughing at that.

“What's in there?” the Sea Dog asked, pointing his pen at Natasha's sports bag.

“Surveying equipment and cameras.” Nat crossed her fingers behind her back, hoping that lie didn't come true.

“And when were you wanting to leave?” the Sea Dog said.

“Time's a-wasting,” Natasha replied with a smile.

The man chuckled. “You mean you don't want to take a few hours and visit beautiful Gill's Bay?” he asked.

“Oh, is there a town here?” asked Sam. “I must have blinked on the way in.” Nat wondered if thejoke were so that if anyone asked why he was laughing, Sam could say he was laughing at himself.

The Sea Dog seemed to like it, though, and grinned appreciatively. “I'll let the coast guard know, and we'll be off,” he said. “Sign here, all five of you. Oh, and I don't have one of those credit card machines, but I do accept PayPal!”

The boat trip out to Flotta was nearly two hours, and while the Sea Dog said it was a glorious day for sailing, Nat was not inclined to agree. The sea was choppy and his boat was not large, and with the engines running full-tilt they bounced across the water like a skipping stone. Nat didn't get seasick but she still didn't find it very comfortable, and Sir Stephen had to hide inside the cabin with Sharon and Rushman, claiming that such speed was downright unnatural. Only Sam seemed fully comfortable.

The main distinguishing feature of the island itself was its flatness – the name Flotta came from Old Norse flodday, which meant 'raft'. It was shaped like a squashed letter C, with two spits of land divided by a shallow bay. At the widest point, in the middle of the C, was the oil terminal, which took in a processed crude that had been drilled from the North Sea. On the lower penninsula was the little village where the refinery workers lived and ate, and a couple of tiny farms that kept shaggy highland cattle. The upper penninsula was uninhabited, and it was on the very eastern extreme of this at Kracness – the headland of the crows – where the henge stood.

There was an old wharf on the north side of the island, just barely intact enough after sixty years of disuse for the Sea Dog to pull his boat up to it. The group cautiously disembarked onto the waterlogged timbers, which creaked and sagged but luckily didn't break. Nat didn't want to fall in the water, and she definitely didn't want to have to jump in and rescue anybody else who did. The wind was icy, and the water itself was probably cold enough to induce hypothermia within minutes.

“How long you gonna be?” the Sea Dog asked, shouting to be heard over the wind. It was roaring in their ears and whipping their hair around, and everything tasted of salt from the spray. It would only be worse at the henge, which was on the highest point of the island.

“All day, probably, unless the weather gets worse!” Nat shouted back. “You got anywhere to be?”

“If you're paying me to wait, I'm waiting!” the Sea Dog replied,

“Okay!” said Natasha. She wondered, when all was said and done how much this quest was going to have cost her. Depending on how much trouble they ended up going to, she might have to sell one of the Grand Duchess' diamonds.

They began walking up a gentle slope, heading inland. The northern penninsula was the highest part of the island, with the henge on a cliff about thirty or forty feet above the sea. There had once been a road that led up to a shell of broken stone walls in the middle of the penninsula. From there it divided in two, with a paved road heading west towards the refinery, and a dirt track continuing up to the headland. The heather and gorse were starting to make progress on reclaiming this path, but it could still be followed. A few seabirds wheeled overhead as they walked, and crows perched among the stones, croaking to themselves.

Nobody talked. There wasn't any particular reason why not – the place was entirely deserted, so it wasn't as if anyone would hear them. Kracness just didn't seem like a good place for casual conversation.

At the top of the slope they came to the chain link fence surrounding the henge. It had strips of plastic woven through the links, but these were ratty and flapping in the wind. A metal sign had been fixed to the gate, with a message in both English and Scots Gaelic.

“Kracness Henge,” Natasha read. “These prehistoric stones are listed under the Ancient Monuments Acts and are subject to the protection of those acts.”

“Well, it doesn't say no tresspassing,” Sam observed.

“You can't trespass on something nobody owns,” Sharon pointed out.

Natasha examined the padlock on the gate, and found it rusted shut. She doubted anybodyhad been here since Dr. Lau did his survey in the early nineties. The lock would have to be cut if they wanted to get in that way, and she hadn't brought any tools for that. Instead, she slung her bag of weapons and ammo over her shoulder, and started to climb the fence.

Sharon and Sam followed her up, and Sir Stephen would have done so, too, except that he noticed Rushman hanging back.

“Are you not joining us?” he asked.

“I'm a little old to be climbing things,” Rushman said apologetically.

“Then ride on my back, and I shall carry you,” Sir Stephen offered.

Rushman eyed the fence dubiously. “You really think you can do that while carrying somebody?” he asked.

“I have the strength of ten men,” Sir Stephen promsied him. It wasn't a boast, just a statement of something Sir Stephen beleived to be fact.

Nat reached the top and dropped down on the other side, and there she finally got a look at Kracness Henge.

Most people, upon hearing the phrase 'standing stones', immediately pictured something similar to Stonehenge – nice neat blocks and slabs put together into a simple but recognizable structure. Kracness did not look like that at all. Its stones were tall, irregular slabs, probably split along the natural grain of the rock with no attempt made to shape them. They were up to fifteen feet tall but no more than a foot thick, and looked curiously fragile, like shards of glass or slips of paper upright on the clifftop. Maybe it was the weather, but even if she hadn't know that something ancient and terrible was buried here Natasha would have found it a terribly forboding place. The stones looked like a row of jagged teeth, and it was hard not to worry that the upper jaw might smash down on them at any moment.

As depicted in Lau's survey, the stone at the focus had fallen down, gouging out the earth behind it as it did. It was still lying there, its far tip just three or four inches above the ground. Across from it at the long axis was the largest stone of the circle. This one had split in two vertically, the halves just barely separated. Seeing this on the map, Nat had assumed it was the result of natural processes. Standing in front of it, she realized it was deliberate – somebody had taken the two slabs that fit together and stood them a half inch apart, careful that they should not touch. If the sun were in just the right spot, it would shine directly through the gap and cast a dagger of light onto the central stone.

Sam tapped Natasha on the shoulder. “The way I figure,” he said, still shouting over the wind, “it's gotta be under the one that fell down!”

Nat turned around to look at the central stone again. The pit it had dug out when it toppled showed that its end had originally been buried five or six feet deep. The stone itself had not broken, so it didn't seem likely that it had fallen over all by itself. Somebody would have had to dig it out.

“I think you're right!” she shouted back. “We gotta lift that stone!”

“How do we do that?” asked Sharon. They had brought shovels and picks, but it would take a hydraulic machine to move that stone aside.

“We could ask Mr. Strength of Ten!” Rushman said, and turned to Sir Stephen. “How about it? Can you lift that?”

Sir Stephen came closer to the stone and looked at it. “It would be at my very limit, I think!” he said. “But if this is the destiny the Lady of the Lake saw for me, then surely she would have given me the strength to do it!” He went to the far end of the stone to get the best leverage, and squatted down to grip the edge.

“Lift with the knees, not with the back!” said Sam.

Sir Stephen gritted his teeth, and lifted.

#fanfic #natasha romanov #black widow #captain america #steve rogerse #agent 13 #sharon carter #falcon #sam wilson #stan lee

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cnisms · 7 years ago

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wanted plots & established connections !

ok cool... this rlly aint shit but ! i’ve come up with some ideas (or alex reminded me of a bunch of connections i wrote for an rp that never opened) that i’d be down for. they’re not in order or anything bc there’s a few that could work for a couple different muses so i’ll just list those details after each one. if u see smth u would be down for just ... lmk :P here is my muse list for quick reference. updated w more !!

01. a box of friendship bracelets and low quality selfies from 2009 tucked away in a closet is all that survived a dynamic friendship that fizzled into nothing. as roommates, a & b shared everything – a set of first times included. then, interests they once shared began to change and both felt as if the other was leaving them behind. neither wanted to be seen chasing desperately after someone that wasn’t interested, so they both pretend they stopped caring long ago. (ex best friends, possibly romantic, misery !) paris, aja, arabella or angel for either muse a or b.

02. a & b were in an extremely close relationship for over a year, though their friends often debated the seriousness of it as they seemed to spend every second weekend broken up. heated arguments from friday were always completely forgotten by monday, much to everyone else’s frustration. it all came to an end when a particularly nasty argument forced a to take an abrupt vacation, coming back to find b already dating someone else. (ex romantic, drama n tension. that someone else could be an npc or another muse.) angel as muse a, percy as muse a, tomas as muse a or b, rosie as muse b, or luma as muse b.

03. though they had known one another for months before, a & b didn’t really clique until their first argument. ever since then, the two have held tight to their friendship and even more to their weekly debates. they fight about anything and everything, no matter how irrelevant or ridiculous. occasionally, things will get personal and they’ll go days without talking, but they always end up back on the same couch, ranting over wine and netflix. (close frenemies.) angel, alanis, rosie or zach as either muse.

04. everyone was well aware that a & b had always been partners in crime, many people joking to watch out for the troublesome two. just like siblings, the best friends were often bickering about something, but the frequent fights about a’s selfishness or b’s envy always came to a fast close with a playful punch. of course, there had to be a tipping point. when a heard that b had hooked up with a’s recent ex in their absence, they quickly came to the conclusion that their friendship was done for good. the two haven’t exchanged a single kind word since. (friends turned enemies. same w #2, the ex could be another muse or just an npc.) wes, elizabeth or angel as a. tomas, alanis or luma as b.

05. though they’d never been particularly close friends, a & b knew to turn to each other when seeking something they couldn’t get from those closest to them. just sex, no strings attached. it was the perfect arrangement, until it became clear that a didn’t really care about b’s personal life. b remains desperate to keep the affair secret, while a grows tired of playing it so safe. (oops . cheating plot . muse b would have to be in some kind of relationship w someone else, they could be npc tho.) luma, cici or percy as muse a. elizabeth or rosie as muse b.

06. intoxicated beyond reason when it was made, it’s no surprise that a & b regret a lot of the things on their bucket list. though they can back out whenever they want with no real consequence, neither are willing to be the first to stand down. with some of their tasks being embarrassing and most dangerous, everyone knows to watch out when these two get together to cross another challenge off the list. (dumbass friends always risking their lives for dares) percy, luma, constance or gia as either muse.

07. a & b spend more time together than apart, using expensive wine and room service to fill in the silence between giggles and gossip that should be used to address the elephant in the room: the mutual affection isn’t as platonic as they like to pretend. with their own experiences of romantic feelings destroying important friendships, despite the fact they both feel they are ready to get serious, they can’t help but stress the risk in their minds and wait for the other to make the first move. (romantic !!) natalya, helena, gia or arabella as either xx.

08. few people are lucky enough to find that one person they can count on for anything and everything, that’s why a has grown to resent the other people in b’s life. unaware of the jealousy, b has grown tired of the series of petty arguments that a has been attempting to start with them more recently. of course, the issue being left unaddressed has only added fuel to the fire. a has moved on to underhandedly interfering with b’s relationship in an effort to get their best friend back. (toxic bffship. one can’t handle the other having outside relationships (whether theyre romantic or platonic idk) so they scheme n make issues) luma, elizabeth or angel as muse a. luke or zach as muse b.

09. though they had always been friends, a & b grew especially close at the beginning of last year, often ditching their friendship group to go on their own adventures. on one of their messier summer nights, they slept together. the affair continued for months before they finally agreed to end it, though they only really stayed away from each other due to the fight that followed the conversation. despite their ruined friendship, a & b are forced to work together to keep the secret buried as their group grows more and more suspicious of them. (two people within a squad who went from being friends to lovers to enememes. they cheated on their s/os at the time. even tho they’re mad at each other, they’re still friends with both the exes (or current partners if any of them are still together) so they’re trying to keep their drama secret. the friendship group/partners could be other muses but also npc ? so much easier) luma, zach, paris, helena, ajay or gia as either muse.

10. committed to enmity, a & b have never let their mutual friends get in the way of their hatred for each other. there are very few events they consider important enough to save the argument for later, no strangers to bickering over brunches and formal dinners. though both refuse to give any real reasoning for their beef, everyone has their own idea. a & b grew tired of waiting for the other to apologize for the drama, deciding they’re beyond ever becoming friends. (enemies that are always being forced together by their mutual friends, detailed backstory could be developed) luma, mari, tomas, zach, ajay, helena, angel or anyone rlly as either.

11. always swearing the other was the love of their life, everyone was shocked at the demise of a & b’s very public relationship. though a appeared to deal with this much better than b, moving on to a string of hookups soon after the breakup, neither made any attempt at trying to play civil for the sake of the group. it wasn’t until just recently, when they were forced to be alone together for the first time in over a year, that they began to talk. a warm friendship quickly blossomed, though awkward moments are neither few nor fleeting as unresolved heartbreak hangs in the air. (lovers finally turned friends w a nice touch of angst) luma or zach as muse a. aja, helena or luke as muse b.

12. though a & b often claim that their beef is simply due to conflicting personalities, it’s quite clear that their separate histories with the same people play a huge part in their inability to get along. the extremity of this differs day to day, sometimes acting as frenemies exchanging snide remarks, to full blown screaming matches that secretly entertain those around them. everyone else has come to accept the fact that the two have no interest in forming a genuine friendship. (2 ppl who hate eachother bc of a mutual ex. could be an npc or another muse) tomas, percy, rosie or alanis as either.

13. a & b were quick to become best friends and have never been anything else since the day they met. for them, it’s nice knowing that someone always has their back no matter what goes on in their lives, but the rest of their friends aren’t so fond of them together. others often complain that they’re tired of the two always getting involved and fighting each other’s battles. as life forces them apart more and more often, they’ve begun to wake up to the codependent nature of their friendship. (codependent bffs that need to cool it but just love each other so dang much it ain’t easy) aja, zach or elizabeth as either.

14. a & b were always a ‘will they, won’t they’ situation to those around them, one always being interested in the other at the wrong time. they often joke about all the missed opportunities and behave as if they’re fine just being friends, but with the mutual crush returning stronger than ever before, they know it’s only a matter of time before they have to sacrifice either their friendship or their other relationships. (right there . a will they/wont they kinda relationship. one or both would have to have a lil smth going on w/ another muse or npc for the drama) constance, rosie, arabella or ajay as either.

15. after the demise of a long relationship, a began hooking up with b. the agreement was that they’d be friends with benefits and nothing else, b even writing up a list of rules for a to abide by. unsurprisingly, it didn’t last long before a was falling hard for b. no real interest in a relationship with the other, b cut a off completely. a had no choice but to attempt to move on. since then, a has never attempted to play nice with b, who so coldly broke their heart. (fwb turned enemies !!) wes, arabella, luke or beck as muse a. alanis, tomas or luma as muse b.

16. when a felt as though all their relationships were falling apart, b was there to comfort them. what was intended to be just a shoulder to cry on grew into a pure and satisfying friendship that exceeds all expectations. people often pressure the two to date and they won’t deny they’ve each had a desire to do so at different times, but they’ve dismissed these feelings as passing crushes. (platonic, fleetingly romantic) wes, aja, paris or zach as either.

17. a & b are about as different as two people can be, proving that opposites do not always attract. a makes no effort to hide the fact that they think lowly of b, while b isn’t afraid to put a in their place. there are a few, rare moments between arguments where they’ll feel bad for what was said and maybe even share a laugh, but this never lasts long before they’re bickering about something else. (negative) rosie, elizabeth, tomas, mari, helena, arabella or percy as a. wes, zach, paris or gia as b.

18. once a realized people always want what they can’t have, they quickly covered up their long-term crush on b and began giving them the cold shoulder. not much time went by before b took the bait, discovering a new interest in a. they’ve been playing this game of cat and mouse for quite some time, though neither are willing to throw in the towel. despite pretending otherwise, a enjoys the attention, but they’re looking for commitment, and they’re well aware that b is just looking for fun. (romantic (kinda)) aja, arabella or helena as a. rosie, percy or luma as b.

19. ‘ride or dies’ is the term most would use to describe a & b. together, they’ve been through more than most people can imagine. surely, you would think, there has to be a line you’d draw, even when it comes to your best friend. a & b, however, are dangerously committed to each other. it doesn’t matter what one says or does, the other will always have their back without a second thought of the consequences. (another pair of dumbass bffs) angel, zach, paris, gia or luma as either.

20. a & b never really got along, always failing to understand what their friends saw in the other. unlike other people within their group, they were always good at remaining civil for everyone else’s sake, but it’s grown increasingly difficult. following a recent blow up, a & b have realized that what they share may no longer be disinterest, both secretly blaming the argument on sexual tension. (enemies that wanna [ b vc ] smex it) rosie, natalya, ajay or alanis as either.

21. it was just luck that a & b ended up at the same resort on vacation years ago, agreeing to make the most of it. somewhere between sneaking out at night and away from their families during the day, the two fell in love. it seemed perfect and a couldn’t imagine anything better, which is why they were so shocked when they got home and b acted as if nothing happened between them and began dating someone else. while a never cried over b, they had an extremely difficult time getting over b. (exes) mari, bobbie, gia or paris as either tbh. cici as b.

22. just because a & b can’t say exactly when and how they wound up in an exclusive relationship, doesn’t mean it’s not important to them. what was meant to be just another fling escalated into something serious quite naturally, though there are some shared moments where they feel as if they’re back to being nothing more than friends. too distracted by their own outside interests to commit to solving these currently minuscule problems, the two risk destroying their relationship. (ppl who are dating but sometimes it seems like they’re nothin more than friends. could be poly!!) zach, luke, paris or aja as either.

23. a & b are always getting accused of being frenemies by those around them, and they’re unlikely to reject that idea, even when they’re together. for as long as anyone can remember, the two have traded petty insults and pressured one another into terrible ideas. still, no matter how bad things get, they continue to spend every other day attached at the hip, trying to get the other into trouble. (another frenemy plot just w more headassary) gia, percy or luma as either.

24. both strong personalities on their own, a & b together are a force to be reckoned with. the two had a strong friendship, always supporting each other, until they both admitted their deepest secrets. when they sobered up, they decided they’d made a mistake, but weren’t willing to talk about it. now burdened with another secret that could hurt others, as well as knowing the other could ruin their own relationships at any moment, the pair have no idea how to act around each other. (basically friends who arent on the best terms rn after finding out each others deepest n darkest secrets which would have to be worked out obviously) tomas, natalya or mari as either.

25. much to their disgust, people are always asking a & b if they are related due to their constant bickering. after dating for years, the two felt they grew to know each other too well, ending the romantic relationship to just be friends. staying true to their word, they have remained incredibly close. whenever one has an embarrassing question or a disgusting story to share, it’s the other they text. they figure there’s no harm done as they’ve already seen each other at their worst. (romantic turned platonic) gia, bobbie, zach or beck.

26. a year ago, a would have done anything for b, believing they had the perfect, fairy-tale romance going on. truthfully, it was almost perfect, which is exactly why b felt the need to screw it up before they got too deep. in the long run, the carefully considered decision to cheat on a ended up hurting b just as much. now that a has moved on and is comfortable in b’s company again, they’ve begin to regret the loss. despite their previous fears, b has become determined to win a’s affection back. (romantic. angsty . whom knows) arabella, bobbie or luke as a. rosie or tomas as be.

27. a & b are described as being a package deal. you get both or you get none, one rarely being seen without the other. the best friends are known to take spontaneous trips without notifying anyone else, sometimes putting them at odds with the rest of their friends, who the two often accuse of being jealous of their friendship. because of their commitment to one another, a’s social life suffers due to b’s preference for staying in and hanging out one on one. while a tries to be understanding of b’s situation they can’t help the feeling of resentment that grows every time they turn down another invitation to stay at home with b. (best friends who have conflicting ideas of fun) bella, alanis, paris, percy or luma as a. wes, zach, natalya or helena as b.

28. a & b have become known for club hopping all night and drinking too much when together, often forcing them to cancel plans with their other friends the day after. because of this, everyone else has grown to dislike the pair’s friendship, but that only forces them closer together. it’s true that all they really do together is encourage each other’s bad habits, but they’re too busy having fun to notice. (again. pals who need to sort their priorities out but will they ? probably not.) luma, elizabeth, percy, cici or constance as either.

29. for years, a & b have been confusing others with their constantly changing relationship status. they will spend a few months in an exclusive relationship, a few months in an open relationship, then a few months apart, only to go back and start all over again. currently on their third month of being together, everyone is watching and waiting for the cracks to show before walking away from the relationship yet again. (break up..make up.. total ..waste of.. time) zach, paris, mindy or gia as either.

30. often labeled as high school sweethearts, a & b have been serious for years. for a long time, the two shared an extremely conventional relationship, both very happy with their situation. however, with their lives changing in recent years, changes to the relationship were unavoidable. both feel neglected by the other more often than not, but whenever an issue is brought up, it only leads to an argument. while everyone else expects the two to get engaged any day now, a & b often question if they still really want to be together. (they dont actually have 2 be high school sweethearts just a couple thats been together ... for a long while n things are getting rough.) arabella, ajay, beck, zach or aja as either. alternatively could be an exes plot n a few yrs after the breakup n i can offer rosie, helena, natalya & luke on top of the others.

31. once close friends, a & b drifted apart when other relationships got in the way. even though they saw a lot of each other following, things between the two have been tense for years. after sharing a kiss in a silly game at a recent party, a & b were able to have a laugh together for the first time in forever. since then, their friendship has been on the mend, but this may not be a good thing. with both noticing some romantic feelings growing them, they suspect that their relationship may come to an uglier end this time. (ex pals turned crushes who truly are not compatible) bobbie, beck, zach or rosie as either.

32. a & b’s relationship is only a few months old, and the two are still very much in the honeymoon phase of things. flashing their pet names and exciting dates on instagram, they’ve convinced themselves that things are perfect. however, a appears to have taken the agreement that things between them should remain as relaxed as possible a little more seriously than b would have liked. a often fails to invite b to certain events and outings, assuming they would prefer not to go anyway. this grates on b’s nerves, who is beginning to feel that a doesn’t spend enough time with them. (a new relationship struggling between being casual n legit) paris, aja, ajay or gia as a. arabella, zach or beck as b.

33. despite already knowing each other, a & b weren’t all that close before hooking up. their friends with benefits arrangement lasted for months before they began seeing other people more seriously. since calling it off, the two have remained incredibly close, leading others to believe that their relationship is more than platonic. (fwb turned just friends but like ... there is potential) wes, angel, bobbie, ajay, zach or rosie as either.

#smoke:wanted #no proofreading we die like men

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twoteaspoonsofsuga · 7 years ago

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An Open Book (Thommy Fanfic) Chapter 9

AN: Our boys fall even deeper for each other, Edith has some news and Jimmy and Mrs Hughes hatch a plan to rescue Thomas. But will it work? Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 10, A03.

Mrs Hughes felt as though she could drop and it was only the beginning of the day. “These are some extremely dangerous allegations James!” “I know that. I wouldn’t make them if I weren’t sure.” “And you have seen evidence of Mr Barrow’s injuries.” Jimmy nodded, his eyes dulled with helplessness he felt looking back. “Yes… I’ve seen them.” “I’m sure you are aware we cannot make these allegations without hard proof that those injuries came from the Duke himself. And even if we find such a thing and this was to make its way to the press. His Grace will be sent to trail. If that were to happen and if his character is what you have concluded, then he will more than likely throw the book at his perpetrators. More than likely he’ll try to out you too.” Jimmy’s eyes shot up. “But he can’t…he has no real evidence that anything between me and Thomas is untoward. We’re… friends is all.” Mrs Hughes cut in completely wise to his lies. “ What I am saying James, is are you sure you are ready to be at the centre of such a scandal. It could cost both you and Thomas your reputations…even your place here.” Jimmy sat across the desk from her the one candle lighting the room in the dead of the morning and thought about it, tapping his fingers of his thigh. “I could never sleep a wink again knowing someone like him was living free...and basking in the luxury, the power his money and his title affords him. I’d rather go to wrack and ruin than allow that to happen.”

Mrs Hughes sighed but nodded. “Well then we will need to collect some real evidence. When do these events usually occur…” “In the evenings before dinner, when T- when Mr Barrow goes up to dress him. That’s when he does it, it’s why he’s always last to arrive.” “I will speak to his Lordship, and see how best to handle this. James, you are not to speak a word of this to anyone, including Thomas. If His Grace has a man skulking around in the shadows, he must not get wind of this, or else he’ll scuttle off to warn the man.” Jimmy nodded, flashing her a grateful smile. “I promise, my lips are sealed. Thank you, Mrs Hughes.” / “Where were you this morning…” Thomas spoke low in the corridors as Jimmy pulled on his cap and Mosely ran upstairs with the last of the trays. “I missed you.” Jimmy blushed. “Oh, nowhere… I just decided to take a walk. Get out before breakfast.” Thomas hummed puzzled. “You should have woken me…I would’ve come with you.” “In your state? Not likely.” He chuckled. “You’re in a good mood this morning.” Thomas smirked and the younger shrugged. “I just have a feeling things will start looking rosy for us soon.” Thomas let out a soft laugh, teeth flashing as he smiled. He was so lost in the positivity that he didn’t see Lady Edith descending the stairs behind Jimmy in bright and breezy morning dress. “Ah James, Barrow…just who I was looking for.” Both whipped around and bowed courteously for her. “Good Morning M’lady.” They chorused. “I’m very sorry I’ve caught you on your way to see Dr Clarkson, haven’t I?” “Not at all M’lady, we have till noon to be there and back.” Thomas told her. “Well good. I thought I should catch you before breakfast. I have news for you both from my editor.” The men’s eyes widened in hopeful anticipation. “I have two things to relay. The first is…unfortunately he doesn’t feel as if your works align with what our publication represents.” Thomas sagged…but Jimmy cocked his head. “And the…second, M’lady?” She smiled quite smug and mischievous at them. “Have either of you ever hear of the Bloomsbury group?” Thomas’ heart started to thunder a million miles per hour, by his side Jimmy was quite confused. “The…Blooms-“ The underbulter explained. “A group of writers, artists, intellectuals, philosophers…Miss Virginia Woolf, Lord Keynes, Mr E.M. Forster. People of real note…” “All very liberal too…though maybe just a tad too much for my liking,” Edith deemed wryly. “All of whom live and work together under a single roof and are in touch with leagues of notable publishers and critics.” “Pardon me M’lady but, what do they have to do with Mr Barrow or I?” “Though your works do not correspond with our magazine, my editor seems to think there is something in them and that the group may be quite enthralled by your works. He has sent them on to London to be appraised. He has passed on your names and if you are successful you should expect a call before the weeks close, to invite you to a meeting with one of the members.” “Good lord…” Thomas breathed as a smile formed on his lips. “Thank you M’lady.” “You’re most welcome Barrow…let’s keep our fingers crossed shall we.” “Yes M’lady…” As she disappeared up the stairs, Thomas felt the urge to cry out it utter delight. Instead he turned to Jimmy who was smirking up at with smug sort of confidence. “I told you things were looking up.” Thomas laughed and before he could think he grabbed his face and kissed him. Once on the lips and then showering his face before Jimmy shoved him away but still with a grin. “Get a hold of y’self will yer, before someone sees.” But Thomas just beamed down upon him, brighter than the sun and Jimmy couldn’t be annoyed at him about it. / The visit to Dr Clarkson was a lot less pleasant than the rest of the morning. Thomas ended up having to answer some very uncomfortable questions. “You say you received these injuries after a tumble down the stairs.” The underbulter shifted uncomfortable behind the screen and outside the screen Jimmy shifted too. “Yes…” “Thomas…unless I am to get the full extent of your situation, I can’t treat you correctly.” Thomas shut his eyes and opened them again. “I was hit…by a wooden cane.” Clarkson nodded and felt around the area where the bandage still lay, Thomas jumping every time it hurt too much. “Hmm, you may put your shirt and jacket back on…” Thomas did, as quickly as possible to conserve what pride he had left and met Jimmy with a demure glance as he reappeared. The younger rushed to steady him. “Mr Barrow, you have one broken rib on your left side and I believe two more are fractured on your right. Thankfully the lacerations and contusions seem to be healing quiet well on their own and the bandaging has held the bone in the correct place. I will give you a cream that will help with the pain and you should try to bath now at least once every two days to help with muscle tension.” Thomas nodded and as they were about to leave. “Barrow?” Thomas turned back. “If there is something that is troubling you, I suggest you tell someone, Lord Grantham perhaps?” Thomas blinked and turned away. / Thomas frowned as the wagonette missed their turning and the younger next to him didn’t. “Jimmy where are we going?” “Places.” “What’re you on about? We need t’ get back to Downton.” Jimmy rolled his eyes. “We’ve got three hours free, you think I’m about to waste them there.” “Then where…” / Jimmy had the wagonette take them as close to the falls as possible, payed the driver to leave and meet them back in an hour and helped Thomas the rest of the way to the clearing. The leaves were starting to turn, green smattered with golds and crimsons. And the sun orange through the branches. Jimmy set Thomas down on his favourite spot. “Oh I wish I had my sketch book. When it looks like this and the water does that twinkly thing it gives me the thirst to draw.” “Mm well you’re lucky.” Jimmy dropped his satchel, crouching and bringing out both of their books. “You think I’d leave them at home with the Duke’s man creeping in shadows.” Thomas smirked. “My sweet clever boy.” Jimmy blushed pink and handed it over. “You aint half a sappy git.” “Fine, my bratty, ungrateful scallywag.” Jimmy laughed. “Much better.” He produced a pencil for each of them. For a while they just sat opposite each other drawing and writing. Then Thomas spoke putting his pencil down. “What is this?” “Hmm?” “What is this…us.” Jimmy averted his eyes. Thomas sighed. “I know…I know you asked me not ask you that. But I just…I need to know that you’re not just humouring me because you feel bad for me.” Jimmy nodded. “I have thought on it…and I can’t deny it crossed my mind that it might be true.” Thomas’ eyes flashed with a stab of misery. “But then it occurred to me that… until this mornin’ and aside from the first kiss, you aint prompted a single kiss or even a touch with any sexual tint to it. It’s all been me…even before the Duke came along. I’ve always wanted and enjoyed every encounter, I always started it off.” He closed his book. “So no it’s not because I feel sorry for you, it’s not even that I’m grateful to you. I told you before and I meant it. It’s because I love you. And it’s weird because…I never was attracted to another man before you, it never even crossed my mind. I always liked girls and I still do, don’t get me wrong.” He shrugged and turned his gaze up to the softness spread across Thomas’s face. “But it’s just you…you changed me or maybe you didn’t. Maybe the candle was always there unlit.” Thomas laughed a watery laugh “You’re such a liar.” Jimmy was surprised. “What?” “You are! ‘I’m bad at words when they were out loud.’ What a load of old cobblers.” Jimmy snorted and crawled forward. He kissed him under the fall of Autumn’s first leaf, Thomas pressing his lips, besotted to his knuckles as Jimmy lowered himself down, a head of blonde curls resting in the elder’s lap. And Thomas let his artist’s hands brush through them. / In one last flash of golden light, Autumn arrives to blanket the chill, when the storms do come and the trees are bare, I’ll blanket you too… I will… You can tell the moon he is surrounded by darkness, but the stars are slaves to his beam. For he is the light in dead of the night, he’s the river running out into streams. / “Mrs Hughes…are you quite sure!?” The older woman clasped her hands in front of her and in safety of Lord Grantham’s office she allowed herself to speak honestly. “I am not perfectly sure, but James seems certain M’lord and I can’t think of a reason why he should lie. It all does add up.” “Dear god in heaven. Never did I think the words: poor Barrow would come from my lips but here we are.” “Indeed M’lord.” “Very well…I shall visit his Grace's room tonight to see if I can expose him, nobody is to breath a word of this. If I do expose his Grace then I will do my best to make sure he leaves quietly.” “I understand, M’lord.” / The rest of the day, even during lunch service, Thomas could not find it in himself to be unhappy. Even if he knew what would transpire tonight would more than likely be worse than the night before…Jimmy loved him, well and truly. And there was chance they would be able to make a name for themselves, have a life of their own. All manner of images came to him, lovely domestic ones. Arguing over the dishes and waking up next to each other…just lying there till the sun was high in the sky. “Sap.” Jimmy accused playfully as he watched Thomas draw absent minded love hearts on the table. Thomas just grinned as the bell rang for him to leave. “He’s later than usual. Well…here we go again.” Jimmy nodded. “I’ll be here where you get back…” Thomas’ lips twitched a smile and as he left. Jimmy had never felt more relieved that it was to be over. / Robert was tense, steeling himself for atrocity he was about to witness and Bates fastened his cufflinks. “Is there something bothering you M’lord?” “There is but it’s nothing you could help me with I’m sure…thank you Bates, you may go.” Bates wandered off and Cora sat on the bed behind him. “I do wish you would tell me what is going on dear.” “The thing is I’m not sure there is anything yet…but I’m afraid you will have to make you own way to dinner this evening.” He kissed her hands. “Hmm very well…I shall see you down there.” She left with a kiss to his cheek. Robert gave it a moment before taking off down the hallway to the Dukes room. He stopped outside the door, hand on the door and took a breath before he swung it open, to reveal the scene behind. Both men fully clothed and shocked at the intrusion. “Oh…” Robert started. “I’m so sorry dear chap…I was distracted and must have taken a wrong turning.” The Duke was bemused. “No harm done. Barrow here was just finishing with my cufflinks.” “Of course, I apologise your Grace.” Robert bowed his head and left the room closing the door. “That damn footman.” He growled. / Inside the room Philip laughed. “It’s a good job I postponed our little rendezvous until tonight my sweet.” He turned to Thomas who avoided his eyes and patted his cheek. “That could have been quite the disaster.”

#thomas #Thommy Fanfic #Thommy Angst #Thommy Smut #An Open Book #Prompts #Thommy #Thomas Barrow #Jimmy Kent

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