#i also owe dusk my nickname | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

buckybabybaby · 4 years

Text

café d'amour

A/n: my entry to @firefly-in-darkness 's challenge. Thank you for letting me enter! I left it to the last minute once again, but! This time it's not late so... fingers crossed next time I'm early xxx

Proof read with a text-speech device.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/reader (gender neutral)

Word count: 3537

Warnings: none! :]

Plot: Maybe covering a friends shift in a city park coffee kiosk won't be too bad if it means running into a certain super soldier.

coffee-shop sort of au, fluff and more fluff.

Masterlist

*****

The machine humming quietly in the corner of the tiny hut seems to be mocking you, a constant reminder of just how out of your depth you are. People who think working in a coffee shop, or in your case, a take-out kiosk, is easy, should try it for a day and see if their opinion changes. This is so far away from your usual job, safe and warm re-shelving books in the colleges library, but a promise is a promise, so you've just got to suck it up for the next few weeks and hope you don't mess anyone’s orders up too badly.

Peter is going to owe you big time after this.

When he'd asked you to cover for him in his small business, you had agreed without properly thinking about what time of year it is, and how cold the wind can be when you're stood still in it for hours on end. Two days in and your hands have aged about ten years from the combination of frequent washing and the icy air, and the layers of thermals you've got on under your uniform fleece and matching joggers are making you look a little rounder than you actually are, you couldn't care less though as long as you are warm. The water heater provides a little warmth, leaking through to your skin if you press up against it, but you've found the best way to escape the freezing gusts is to crouch down below the counter when the queues have diminished.

That's where you are now, half heartedly straightening the packets of treats, getting distracted by the many different types of cookies and brownies, and not keeping an eye out for potential customers.

“Hello? Is this self-serve or what?”

The voice startles you, so close without warning, almost like they crept up on you. Hopping up quickly, you hover your hands under the sanitiser and rub them together as you collect yourself and prepare your speech.

“Hello! Sorry! Hello,” You start again, marginally calmer, “Welcome to-”

That's as far as you get, not even able to ask what they 'fancy today?' before the customer interrupts.

“Just a coffee. Black. No fancy milks or syrups or anything, no cakes or anything extra. Just coffee, okay?”

Finally looking up from your now dry hands, you take in the man who has placed such a blunt order. He's attractive enough, the little you can see underneath his hat, something about him familiar to you, his tone definitely one you've got used to over the past day or so, though he's not anywhere close to the rudest person you've served.

You smile pleasantly, in the disarming way you've learnt. “Okay, just coffee, got it. And a name for the cup?”

He looks around at the lack of other customers. “Is that necessary?”

Laughing self-consciously, you say, “Probably. If it gets busy I'd hate for it to get mixed up. I'm new.”

“Ah.” He tuts. “James.”

“James, cool. That'll be a few minutes.”

As you grab a pen to write his name on the sleeve of a cup, he shuffles off to the side, adjusting his hat as he does, and when his coat slips a bit down his left arm your mind goes blank. He's not paying attention to you so your staring goes unnoticed as you realise why you thought he was familiar earlier, wondering how it didn't click when he said his name, but then again wrapped up in his scarf and gloves it's not surprising. You're guessing he doesn't want to be recognised right now, hence the use of his real, less known name, so before he can catch your mild freak-out you look away and messily scribble on the side of his cup.

Even a simple order can be a struggle for you, and now, slightly flustered from serving the Winter Soldier, you make sure to double check the measurements before you start, concentrating hard to make the greatest cup of coffee he's ever had. There's a reason this kiosk has a reputation for the best hot drinks in the park and you aren't about to ruin it by messing up the order of Captain America's best friend.

Breathing a sigh of relief as you place the lid on top of the perfectly brewed coffee, you tap it against the table to get his attention. “Here you go. The machines ready.”

Pulling his hands out of his pockets, he swipes his card to pay then grabs the cup off the counter, murmurs something that could have been a 'thanks' and takes off along the dim path leading him deeper into the park.

“Well.” Huffing as you lean against the glass front of the booth, you watch his retreating form with a small frown. He wasn't anything like you thought he might. The media has built him up to be some sort of tragic figure, one to be feared and pitied in equal measure, but all you saw was yet another city dweller on a quest for caffeine.

At least now you have a story to tell from your time working in the coffee kiosk, aside from the ones about frozen fingers and half-spilt drinks.

*****

The next day he's back, around the same time in the afternoon, as the daylight is dying and the street lights are flickering into life, about an hour before closing. You're finishing up a complicated order for a group of friends when you notice him standing away from the small crowd, waiting for them to leave before he approaches.

“I want a coffee like yesterday,” He says, adding as though an after thought, “Please.”

“One black coffee?” You confirm.

He nods, watching closely as you locate the pen to write on his cup. Before you can even open the cap, he's butting in. “Why don't you have a name tag?”

You freeze, confused. Meeting his eye, you flush under the intense way he's staring you down. “Why don't I-?”

“You see, I have a very good memory, despite my age. I distinctly remember telling you my name is James, so imagine my surprise seeing my nickname written on my cup when I looked properly.”

His expression is not giving away any clues on how he feels about this invasion of privacy. Heart racing, you search for the right words to apologise, and convince him you're not some crazy stalker.

There's no chance to speak as he's continuing. “So I thought I'd come back today and find out your name, then we'd be even. But you don't have a badge on. Why not?”

“I'm so sorry,” You breathe, unsure what more you can say. “I swear I'm not a weirdo, I just recognised you yesterday and I must have written the wrong name by accident.” A beat of silence, then you propose a way to make it right, “How about free coffee for life?”

He laughs, a glorious sound in the crisp air, and your shoulders relax at the genuinely happy noise. “Aren't you new? Are you allowed to make promises like that?”

Wincing, you admit, “Probably not. But when I explain it to Peter I'm sure he'll understand.”

“Peter?”

You start working on his drink as you talk. “He owns this place. And normally works this shift, I'm only covering whilst he's away.”

“Oh.” The hissing of steam drowns out his next sentence, you only catch the last half, “-here how long?”

“Couple of weeks, maybe? Not too long hopefully. You'll have a professional barista back soon, don't worry.”

“I think you're doing fine.”

The words are spoken so softly, such a contrast from how you thought this conversation would end, and the shock has you fumbling with the finished cup of coffee, nearly spilling the scolding liquid all over your fingers.

“Careful.”

Taking the cup from you, his hand lingers against yours for a moment too long and you force yourself to stand up straighter and away from his touch. The last thing you want is to become a horrible cliché, falling for a customer after a few sweet lines.

He grabs a few napkins to wipe the cup dry, then looks expectantly at the card machine.

“I meant it, free for life,” You say, determined.

Shaking his head, he roots around in his pockets, pulling out a couple of notes and sliding them across the counter towards you. “Old fashioned money it is then. I didn't mean to come across as angry earlier, or yesterday, thinking about it. Sorry about the whole,” He waves his hand around vaguely, “Murderous vibe I give off, or whatever Sam calls it.”

He rolls his eyes fondly when talking about his team mate, and you giggle as you reassure him. “You didn't look murderous, just a bit like you might sue me.”

“Ugh.” He wrinkles his nose. “Not really my style.”

Your bank balance is thankful. “And to answer your question, I'm Y/N.”

Blowing on to the top of his drink, he takes several steps back, all whilst keeping eye contact. “Well then Y/N, I guess I'll see you tomorrow.”

“I'll be here.”

With that, Bucky waves goodbye with a wide smile, disappearing into the dusk as you wonder just how much trouble he's going to be.

*****

The kind of trouble you don't mind, you find out when you run in to him again the next day, a lot earlier than you imagined. In an attempt to keep yourself warm for the long hours stood in the open, with only a waist high counter between you and the frozen air, you've taken to walking around the park before you are due to start, so the heat generated by the exercise keeps you warm for at least a proportion of your shift.

The sunshine is deceptive this afternoon, doing nothing to raise the temperature as you wander around the edge of the lake. Lost in thought, a sudden shout from behind makes you jump.

“Hey, Y/N! Wait up.”

Turning around, you struggle to place the voice as you scan the few people also on this side of the park. None of them are even looking in your direction, let alone trying to draw your attention, and you're about to continue on your way thinking you must have misheard when a body nearly crashes into yours. This is not an image you ever thought you would see; the Winter Soldier panting to catch his breath after jogging up to you, all because you're on first name terms and not because you've suddenly turned to a life of crime.

“Bucky?”

At your bemused tone, his face drops. “Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt. If you want to be alone, I can go, I just thought-”

“No! No, it's okay. I don't mind a bit of company.”

You share a smile, and he lets you take the lead back along the small track, winding its way between the trees and the water.

He breaks the silence a few meters along. “So, what do you normally do?”

“Me? Err,” You pause, trying to think of how to make yourself sound interesting to someone who spends his life side by side with superheroes and literal gods. Sighing in defeat as you conclude you're always going to be boring in comparison, you mumble, “I work in the library where I'm also a student.”

Bucky doesn't appear to think you're dull. “That's cool!” He says, like he means it. “I miss being in school.”

“So did I, so when I got the chance I went back. I'm a bit older than most of the students-”

He snorts. “I know how that feels.”

“But I'm determined to get my degree this time.”

“I'm sure you will.” He grins at you and you're inexplicably filled with hope that he's right. “And after? Do you know what you want to do once you've graduated?”

You shake your head. “Right now all I'm focused on is passing exams and submitting essays on time. I'll think about the future when it's closer.”

“That's fair. Nothing wrong with waiting to figure things out.” More reassurance from this relative stranger. You didn't know how much you needed it until just now.

“Most people say I need a ten year plan or something.”

“Most people are wrong. But,” He pauses, and you hold your breath as you anticipate his words. “Can I suggest if you go into business, maybe don't start off by offering life time free supplies at the drop of a hat?”

Two minutes in to this 'friendship' and he's already teasing you? What is going on? Turning your face away so he can't see your stupid grin at this turn of events, you really would believe this is some sort of perfect daydream if it wasn't for the all too real frozen mist clinging to your coat and the ends of your hair.

“I'll try to remember that, thanks.”

Dodging a puddle in the middle of the path, you're trying to come up with a witty retort to impress him when your phone buzzes in your pocket.

“If you need to get that-”

“Oh, no. It's only my alarm to remind me not to wander too far from work before I need to start.”

“Soon?”

“Yeah.”

“I'll walk you back, then.”

Not wanting to leave his side quite yet, you let him accompany you back through the trees, but you refuse his offer to carry you across a muddy part of the path where the stream has burst it's banks. Flushing as he laughs at your careful steps, you manage to get across without completely ruining your shoes, informing him you've learnt the hard way that these trails aren't exactly 'white trainer friendly' as the kiosk looms into view.

Relieving the worker from the morning shift, you rearrange the counter back to the way you like it before any customers turn up, watching Bucky hovering nearby until you give him a questioning look.

He clears his throat. “If I came this way the same time tomorrow, would I bump into you then?”

The hopeful look he gives you would be enough for you that, even if this walk wasn't part of your daily routine already, you would have made it so in order to see his again.

“Uh huh. Are you planning too?”

“Whenever I come with Sam, we always end up getting recognised with the way he can't keep his voice down. It's nice not having that sort of attention. So if you don't mind?”

“I don't mind.” A patron approaches and reluctantly you turn away, sending a quiet promise to your new friend. “See you tomorrow, Bucky.”

*****

The days past so fast now they're full of work, both at the kiosk and in the library, trying to study, and, most importantly, walking with Bucky every afternoon. Some days the two of you talk the whole way, conversation flowing so easily you're amazed at how honest you are, like you've never been with anyone before, and other days you walk together in relative quiet, completely comfortable in each others presence.

Falling for him is the quickest and easiest thing you've ever done. Dealing with your feelings, however, might be somewhat harder.

With the lighter evenings comes the message that Peter is finally on his way home and soon you'll be free of your second job. It feels like a bolt from the blue, to be reminded that this is only temporary and in not too long you will no longer have an excuse to see Bucky.

You mention it to him a week before your last shift.

“Isn't that good?”

“I guess.” Your reply is short and unenthusiastic, changing the subject quickly to hide how heartbroken you are.

Time moves too fast, and before you know it you're greeting him on that last day, taken aback as he presents you with a small cardboard box, which when you take it, is much heavier than it looks. “Natasha gave it to me for you. Apparently it's really good for your hands. I thought you could try it? Now you won't have to wash them constantly?”

Scanning the sides reveals that it contains a moisturiser, from some luxury brand you've never even thought to try, too far out of your price range. “Oh, this is too much, I can't take-”

“Yes you can.”

“Let me give you something-”

Gently tugging your hand back out of your bag, he stops you from grabbing your purse by enclosing his gloved fingers around yours. When he doesn't let go, instead pulling you along and down towards your now usual route, you let him, gaping at the back of his head before coming to your senses and squeezing his hand in a kind of thanks.

“This is a very kind present.”

He shrugs it off. “It's nothing. When it's your birthday or something, then I'll get you a proper present. Presents, plural,” He emphasises as your eyes widen at the thought. “Nah, this is just one of the hundreds of products Natasha gets sent in the vain hope she'll provide the companies with some free advertising. Better you have it than it go to waste.”

It still feels like a gift to you. “Well then, thank you for thinking of me.”

“Always.” The implication of that one word would have been entirely missed if it wasn't for the panicked look on Bucky's face as he corrects himself. “I... I mean, of course.”

Stopping in the middle of the path, your joined hands cause him to halt too and the atmosphere grows tense as you stare at each other, unsure where to start. The minutes haven't stopped ticking down until you're due on your last shift, and with the implication that comes with hanging over you like a dark cloud, now seems just as good a time as any to bring it up.

You hesitantly begin. “Bucky, can I say something?”

Mutely, he gestures for you to proceed.

“Right, so you know today's my last day at the kiosk, at least until Peter goes away again, so, that means I won't have a reason to walk around here any more. Or I won't, unless...”

“Unless?”

“Unless I do. Unless you still want to come around the park with me, even if it's for no more reason than simply going for a walk?”

“I'd love that.”

The relief that flows though you as he agrees is almost physical, gripping onto his hand in yours just a little tighter.

Feeling brave, you dare to push your luck. “And if it was more than just a walk?”

It takes a moment, but then you see the realisation dawning on his face, a slow smirk appearing as he takes a step into your space. “More?”

You know he knows what you mean, that he's playing with you. That doesn't soothe your doubts though, hoping beyond hope that you're not misinterpreting his teasing.

“Yeah. More.”

Letting go of your hand in order to bring one arm around your waist and pull you closer, your own come to rest against his lapels as he dips his head down.

“I think I'd like more,” He whispers.

You swallow as his gaze slips to your mouth, sinking in his embrace as his lips brush against yours, so soft and brief it barely registers,

Moving back to put a bit of room between the two of you, his thumb brushes over the corner of your mouth as you pout sadly.

“You can have another one once you've finished tonight. Maybe. Or maybe you'll have to wait until after our date tomorrow.”

You frown. “Tomorrow?”

“Yep. If you're free?”

“Always.” Repeating his earlier phrase with a sly smile, you turn around to continue along the track, leaving him speechless for a second before he rushes to fall into step.

His arm slides through yours. “So, is it okay to wait for you tonight?”

“You've just kissed me and you're still asking that?”

“I'm just checking.” When you don't answer he presses, “Is it? I don't want to impose.”

'Too late for my heart', you think but don't say, not wanting to scare him off, instead nodding in reply and leaning into his side as you wind your way through the woodland path. The fear you had felt this morning at potentially having to say goodbye to Bucky feels like a distant memory, and as you watch the sunlight dance across his hair you realise you could never have let today be the last. You started this job reluctantly and now, instead of Peter owing you for the favour, it seems you owe him.

Peter doesn't needs to know just yet, you decide.

That usually particularly muddy part of the path has become even muddier after the overnight rain, and this time you allow him to pick you up in his arms and carry you across, feeling its finally appropriate now your relationship has changed. Setting you down on the other side, he presses a kiss to your forehead almost absent-mindedly, and your tummy does a flip as you take a second or two to admire his profile.

You sigh happily. So much for not becoming a cliché.

*****

Thank you for reading!! Masterlist

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #buckybabybaby

142 notes · View notes

defenderrosetyler · 3 years

Text

Chapter One

A/N: No real triggers this time!! WC: 1.9k Chapter 1:

“So every person in this book is a fairy tale character?” Emma Swan says to her ten-year-old son.

The boy had introduced himself as Henry, had brought his mother to Storybrooke. Of course, Emma had given Henry up for adoption when she gave birth to him. But to have her son seek her out made Emma uncomfortable. He had come to her claiming to be the savior of the storybook world. Henry spun a tale about a curse and how all of the characters of the Enchanted Forest were stuck in a town called Storybrooke, Maine.

Henry had with him a brown leather storybook that was thick but didn’t appear to be heavy. Henry seemed to carry around with no problem. One thing Emma found off when they arrived into town was the clock tower. As she observed it, she couldn’t help take note of how it never seemed to move. She led Henry back to his mother’s house. Henry’s adoptive mother, Regina Mills, was the mayor of the town. Henry claimed she was the Evil Queen from the story Snow White. Emma found this silly. Then again, Emma wasn’t one for fairytales anyway. Fairytales are for kids.

Inside Granny’s Diner, Sam Winchester sat inside waiting for his brother Dean. Granny’s was usually closed at night since Granny went to work at her bed and breakfast in the mornings, but Ruby was always there at night to serve the night owls who couldn’t sleep.

Ruby wasn’t the only one working the night shift. She worked with Y/N Y/L/N. Hardly anyone saw Y/N working in the morning. This usually led to rumors that Y/N was hiding something. The story was Y/N stayed locked in Rowena’s shop.

Rowena MacLeod was a private woman. However, she was a businesswoman, a loan shark, if you will. Rowena was very good at getting what she wanted through these tactics. She would let her client borrow money with the promise of paying it back fairly and on time. However, many clients don’t read the fine print in her contract. Resulting in them having to pay double or triple what they borrowed. Rowena had helped Sam and Dean’s parents with a large sum of money to keep their business, Winchester Mechanics, afloat. Leaving their two sons, Sam and Dean, to foot the bill. Dean paid her as much as he could, but with not many people coming or going from Storybrooke, business was slow.

This left Sam to find a way to help Dean find a way to help pay Rowena back too. But he wasn’t having great success either. Sam had started working in Mr. Gold’s Pawn shop until he found himself interested in Law. Under Mr. Gold’s tutelage, Sam had become well versed in the laws created by the town council. This led him to also find work in the Sheriff's office as a prosecutor. Often being a rival for his own boss at the Pawn Shop. It only made Mr. Gold admire Sam more.

“Ruby, can you please help them?” Y/N begged, trying to hold back an eye-roll at the two men that walked in together, sitting across from one another. Having a conversation amongst themselves and trying to not get in an argument, again, over the amount of money they owed to Rowena. Their next payment was due within the week, and they didn’t have the funds.

“Sorry, Duckling, it's your turn. I helped them the other day.” She says, giving her a sentimental look.

Ruby had been watching Y/N and Sam’s exchanges cringing internally whenever they walked in the door, knowing Y/N would try and pass her along to either herself or Granny. Ruby heard rumors about why Y/N and Sam had disagreements, but their arguments were getting harsher with each passing day.

Y/N scoffed, rolling her eyes, grabbing her order pad, heading over to greet Sam and Dean.

“Evening, Y/N,” Dean says pleasantly.

Sam muttered under his breath a greeting, and it sounded like he muttered a nickname only her friends gave her, earning a glare from Y/N in Sam’s direction.

“What is it now, brains?” Y/N says. “Too buried in your debt to Rowena to speak louder and call me a name in front of my face?”

Dean sighed. Here they go again. “Just our usual if you would please,” he says, trying to cut the tension between the two.

Y/N nods glaring at Sam before she heads back to the kitchen.

“You didn’t need to butt in like that,” Sam scoffed. “I had it completely under control.”

“Oh sure, that’s why you and Y/N seem to fight or have some sort of disagreement every time we come in here?” Dean huffed, “Who knows whatever the hell happens when you bump into her while she’s alone at Rowena’s,” Dean sassed, “Oh wait, you’re too busy working at Gold’s shop, fighting for a chance to work a case in his place, or at the jail with Graham,” the elder brother snapped calmly.

“Says the man who works in a shop with no cars to work on,” Sam snapped back, “How’s Amaya? Did you ever fulfill your promise to help her out?

“You keep that bitch out of this,” Dean growled. “I’ll figure something out. For now, I’m gonna see if I can get a second job somewhere.”

“What do you mean? What other job could you get here? Think Granny can hire you as a short-order cook? At least she gets business!”

“It’s something to get the debt paid back to Rowena, Sam,” Dean muttered as Y/N brought out their meals. Both were polite, and their bickering died down, and they went back to talking about their days. As uneventful as they were, they had a lot to talk about.

Y/N sighed as she went back behind the counter, “Ruby, I’m gonna head to bed. Dawn wake-up call comes early.” She says with an eye roll.

“Goodnight, Duckling,” Ruby says, smiling kindly to her, “I’ll clean up.”

===========

Enchanted Forest

“Dean, is target practice really necessary?” Sam says, looking at him. “I need to be looking for Odette, not shooting powdered arrows over at the servants’ asses.”

“And what are you gonna do when you can’t hit your mark?” Dean questioned, “What of Odette needs saving from some Ogres, and you miss?”

“Is that before or after the fact that you're catching fireflies at all hours of the night?” Sam asks, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Are they for you or to feed the frog that follows you around and hides on your dresser?” he snaps, glaring at the older brother.

“I do not go out at night to catch fireflies for Amaya,” Dean scoffs, “besides, she goes out and catches her own meals.”

Rolling his eyes, Sam grabbed his red powdered covered arrows, game face on. Assuming the probability that Dean would let him win, again. Sam took an arrow from his quiver, sliding it into place. Pulling back the string once he nocked it, aiming it at his first mark, the butler, Crowley. Whom the brothers affectionately dressed up as a brown moose. The arrow left the nocking point, hitting its destined target in the center of his rounded ass.

“Hey!” Crowley muttered, rolling his eyes. He brushed off the powder as he glared at both of the brothers.

Dean was finding this amusing. The exercise was primarily for Sam. Why couldn’t he have fun too?

Just as Dean was about to take his shot, Castiel, the head advisor to his father, walked out onto the grounds. He intended to stop the game before it fully began. “Your Highness?”

Startled by the sudden interruption, Dean whipped around, the arrow released from where it was nocked, hitting Castiel square into his chest. Before he could even react, a second followed by a third engulfed Cas in a powder of blue.

“If you children are quite finished,” he huffed, dusting the powder off himself, “my liege, you have a visitor. Something about a poisonous toad needing collecting?”

Dean fired one more arrow before stalking towards Castiel, “it better not be a waste of my time. My brother and I are training.”

“Training for a lost cause if you ask me, Sir,” Crowley says, observing the body language of his employer. “For all, we know the Princess is dead as well, just like her father. God rest his soul.” He adds, making the sign of the cross.

Sam’s head turned quickly at the Butler’s words echoed in his ear. Eyes flashed in anger, rushing over towards the pair. “Take it back! You don’t get to talk about Odette like that!”

“Forgive me, Samuel. However, I truly believe this to be a fool's errand,” Crowley says, standing closer to the trio gathered in the middle of the courtyard.

“I will find her, Crowley,” the younger prince declared, “I have to find her.”

Shaking his head, Dean followed Castiel inside to handle the visitor.

Needing an actual outlet for his anger, Sam walked with a fast pace over to the stables. The staff tended to the horses, but Sam usually liked taking care of his mare. It gave him a sense of responsibility.

Sam’s mare, Onyx, was a beautiful black Friesian. Her height was just above 18 hands, given his six foot four stature, she was just as tall as he was. Sam was okay with that though. Grabbing a body brush, Sam slowly brushed out her black coat. It had become dirty from the loose dirt flying around.

Meanwhile, as the sun set on the edge of the trees in the forest, a beautiful white swan flew across the canopy. Odette had grown accustomed to the dawn and the dusk. Knowing she had to be on the lake’s surface as the moon touched it before she would become a woman again.

As per her usual routine, Odette flew over Winchester Castle. Wondering if Sam would be looking for her. Who was she kidding? Sam only wanted to marry her for her beauty. Prince Samuel Winchester didn’t care about her.

Dusk approached, the swan moving to make her graceful descent down into the crystal colored water. “Was wondering if you were gonna be on time tonight dearie.” Rowena says, hands placed on her hips. Odette gave Rowena as much of a glare as a swan possibly could. The princess was always on time and never late. The other party that was never late was Rowena’s incompetant son Crowley.

“Evening Mother, Odette,” he greets, giving his mother a nod of acknowledgement. Crowley’s appearances had begun to be a routine over the past week. Rowena’s son came every evening, giving Rowena the opportunity to ask her the same proposition in order to remove the curse. Marrying her son.

Much to the annoyance of Rowena, Odette answered her the same as she had every single time she’d asked. One single word was her reply, but not the one the sorceress was looking for.

“No.”

“Oh for the love of Dagda” She scoffed, rolling her eyes skyward. Eyes focused back on the maiden that stood before her. Hair glowing in the shimmering moonlight. “Need I remind you, I placed this curse on you, and I can just as easily reverse it. All you need to do, is agree to marry my dear Fergus. Once you're wed, I can give you all the riches a Princess could ask for.”

“Far better than the Winchester’s that's for sure.” Crowley adds as a comment.

“I’d rather be a swan over marrying your childish, pathetic son.” Odette snapped.

“That can be arranged.” Rowena snapped, allowing the princess to mull over her choices.

#APAHS #a prince and his swan #sam x reader #OUAT crossover #ouat fic #crowley #rowena macleod

13 notes · View notes

1-800-seo · 4 years

Text

1-800-𝗦𝗘𝖮'𝘀 𖣘 "𝗬𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗺𝘆 (𝗨𝗻𝗶)𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗲"

- 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝖩𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗄𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗑 𝖸/𝖭

- 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿/𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗄/𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗍𝖾𝖽/𝖾2𝗅/𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗀𝖾 𝖠𝖴

- 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 (𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗄𝗂𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌), 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗌 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗇𝖽𝗋𝗒, 𝖽𝗈𝗆!𝗃𝗄 𝗂𝖿 𝗎 𝗌𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗇𝗍, 𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗆𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌

- 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀: 2984

- 𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: 𝖶𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗇𝖽𝗋𝗒 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝗆𝗂𝗑𝖾𝖽 𝗎𝗉 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝖼𝖾𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗈𝗇𝖾'𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗍𝖾'𝗌 𝗀𝗈 𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗄, 𝖺 𝗀𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗀𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗍 𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗎𝖾𝗌, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝖾𝗇𝖺𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗈𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗈𝗋𝗄.

doing laundry is absolutely one of your least favourite things in the world beside soggy socks

so you’re in a bad mood as soon as you walk into the campus launderette to say the least

the launderette is empty bar one dude you’d seen around the global technics centre

if you remember rightly he’s a European studies major

odd choice but you do you and all that

now you’re not weird or anything but you have a preference on what type of washing machine you use

I know I know kind of unorthodox

but the old washing machines take 30 mins longer so you’d prefer a newer one

unfortunately the only one left is directly next to this familiar-faced stranger and his laundry

your better judgement is telling you no but your impatience is telling you yes

and so you dump your laundry onto the floor next to the stranger and his and start sorting through for all your whites

your piles mingle a tad as they overlap beside each other like Venn diagrams of assorted underwear and other garments

his consisting of only whites

yours a jumbled mess since you had to wash all of your stuff

in sync you both pick up your washing and put it into the machine

you catch his dark wide eyes as you both straighten up and he lets out an awkward low-voiced giggle

your cheeks immediately flush pink and a bashful smile creeps up to your lips

“you’re from the global centre, right?”

you ask testing the waters

“I am, I’m a European studies major, my name’s Jungkook. I recognise you, you’re in linguistics class right?”

“Yeah, I’m a linguistics major so you’ll mostly see me there, it’s nice to meet you Jungkook”

you say with a smile as your hands fidget with the door handle of the washing machine

“It’s nice to meet you too, I thought I recognised you from somewhere, but it’s because I see you sometimes when I have to do extra credit European language projects. What’s your name?”

he says tilting his head like a curious puppy

“its ______”

you say as you bow to him politely

“Can I ask you something? I have to do a project on European languages and their similarities to others. The professor wants us to speak to outsiders for references so would I be able to collab on a project with you sometime in the future, if it’s not too much to ask?”

he averts his eyes from yours and blushes lightly

“Oh yeah sure, that’s no issue! It’ll be beneficial to me too because the linguistics portion of the course is coming up soon, so it’s a great idea.”

you beam at him

“Could I get your number?”

their is a pause that feels like an eternity between your next words and his last

the cause of this is your mind being far too focused on his wavy dark hair and his clear doe eyes

you snap out of your daze

“yeah totally, one sec”

you pull out your phone from your backpack on top of the washing machine and input his contact name and number as he reads it out

“Thanks for that, it’ll be a big help, let me know when you want to link up” he replies

and with that you had his number and continued on with your washing

21/10 18:32

Jungkook ༄ : not to be accusatory but do you happen to own a pair of RED socks?

You: yes, why do you ask??

Jungkook ༄ : well ALL of my washing seems to be PINK!!

You: just because I own a pair of red socks doesn’t mean it was me 😠

Jungkook ༄ : yes but you were the only one in the launderette when I was there,,

Jungkook ༄ : smh gonna be turning up to class in pink tshirts and and socks, everyone be thinking ive made a new fashion choices when it’s really just because SOMEONE can’t keep their clothes separate from others B/

You: 1) it’s not my fault that my socks decided to migrate to new lands

You: 2) why, are you scared of pink or something? your ego too fragile to wear a ‘woman’s colour’?

You: 3) did you really use a sunglasses sad face emoticon lol

Jungkook ༄ : girl u owe me big time for all these clothes you ruined 😩

Jungkook ༄ : also im not scared of pink I just dont want to be wearing pink shirts to all of my formal events for the next ten years

Jungkook ༄ : and yes im sWaG so my emoticons are sWaG duh

You : ruined? ruINED? RUINED? I did not ruin anything, I simply spiced up your wardrobe boo x

You : oh no he’s a 2012 hype beast 🤦🏻‍♀️

Jungkook ༄ : how dare you call me something so sacreligious as a hypebeast!!

Jungkook ༄ : I am gucci not channel thank you very much

Jungkook ༄ : anyways I gtg write a report, speak soon red socks

Seen ✓

Jungkook was in fact not writing a report

he was planning revenge dun dun dun~~~

his plan was to do the exact same thing you had done to him

but he had to be cunning about it

and so the week went on

he was scrolling through twt when he received a new follower

it was the one and only @_______

and lo and behold their last tweet was “tysm Seokjin oppa for buying me a personal washing machine,, now I can do my most hated thing but at home!!”

hehehe

an idea sprung into kookie’s head

he didn’t have to try and spike your washing at the launderette

he could do it in a place you’d never suspect,, your home

now he only had to find out where you lived

just stalkerish tingz

he had to be lowkey about this

so he decided to ask his best mate and social butterfly of a friend Taehyung whether he knew you

and of course he did lol

“Hell yeah I know where she lives, she had the best party of the whole term, Jimin was so drunk he started chatting himself up in the mirror”

“Damn that sounds like a good time, probs should start going to these parties you invite me to”

“defo should, anyways I’ll tell u as long as you promise not to spread the information or use it for pervy or questionable reasons”

“I promise not to spread it or use it for pervy or questionable reasons”

he replies in monotone voice and his hand on his chest like an oath

and so that was how he acquired your address

simple enough really

and so that’s the events that lead him to be crawling through your dorm window however paused like a deer in headlights at the questionable sounds coming from the room across

he was squatted on the window ledge like spider man, red sock in hand and hood up

it was 9:00pm and your university apartment was supposed to be empty at this time

you had your class on now but he hadn’t accounted for your roommate

hence why he had frozen at the unsavoury sounds echoing round the apartment

low moans and grunts emanated from the room across

dEsGöStEn

he had to get to the kitchen without alerting the dusk time love makers

he could do it if the floor plan was the same as his apartment block and he bet his reputation on that

if he got caught he’d never hear the end of it from his mates and your roommate might even call the campus police if they were spooked enough

and so he clambered through your bedroom window and onto your bed underneath

unmade bed might he add but what did he expect from a uni student

with wide eyes he listened for any noise of suspecting roommates and examined your room

the desk was littered with papers and an oversized lava lamp stood stout in the corner of the room

a lacy bra was hung over your wardrobe handle

he shoved away the idea of you wearing it and continued with his night time plot

slowly and stealthily he crept through the halls of the apartment and out to the kitchen

on the maiden was already a neatly hung load of whites

he’d have to assume it was yours otherwise he’d have to go back to your room to get laundry

he bundled up the clothes and shoved them in the washing machine with the incriminating red sock he’d brought and set it to economy spin

round and round it spun, getting progressively louder as it went

he had to get out of there asap

tip-toeing as he went past the questionable lewd noises, he finally made it to your bedroom

he made one last check to see if he’d left any damage in your room

his eyes fell upon that same bra

damn his manhood making him think predictably

he shoved the thought away and departed

25/10 22:08

You: what in the hell did you do to my washing!!!?!!!

You: unless it was a ghost it HAD TO BE YOU JEON 🤬

Jungkook ༄ : wym I don’t even know where you live 😑

Jungkook ༄ : what’ve you done now?

You: IT HAS TO BE YOU!! SOMEONE FRIGGIN TURNED MY WASHING PINK AND I PROMISE YOU IT WASNT ME

Jungkook ༄ : how would i do that?? I don’t have like magic clothes dyeing skills boo

You: I SWEAR it was you!!

You: what do you want to bet it was u

Jungkook ༄ : I won’t bet anything I’m poor

You: that means you did it!

Jungkook ༄ : if you come with me to Taehyung’s party tomorrow I’ll tell u everything

Jungkook ༄ : but only if you go, that’s the terms of agreement

You: that’s all the incriminating evidence I need!! you basically just admitted to it you know?

You: however for reasons sake I will attend 👀

Jungkook ༄ : see you then red socks x

You: I suppose u will x

time passed quickly and soon it was Taehyung’s party

You’d known Taehyung since middle school however since starting college you hadn’t seen much of him

schedules clashed often so the only time you got to see him was at a good party

nothing wrong with that, you just probably haven’t had a completely sober conversation with him in 2 years

he’s good fun, Taehyung, so you hoped Jungkook wasn’t as much as a killjoy as he’d been this week

his little antics (that you’d yet to figure out) had caused your work uniform to turn bright pink

and thus the ‘pink princess’ nickname at work began

you felt like sharpay, everyone in white, but you pink

you’d quite like to knock Jungkook down a peg after that

and so you made your way to the infamous Taehyung’s party

he welcomed you as you entered the large door of his fraternity house

behind his head of black curls you could see the mess that is a raging college party

young people, at assumably different levels of intoxication, were everywhere

some were stood all the way up the expanse of the stairs even

you looked around and spotted a familiar brunette in the kitchen sat on the large marble counter tops

he’s chatting to some pink haired girl beside him

you stalk up to him like a woman on a mission and jokingly (a little too hard for jokingly) push his shoulders with both hands

he immediately snaps his head round to face you and his eyes widen with shock

“I have a bone to pick with you.” you say as stern as you can

you grab hold a fistful of his black T-shirt and drag him into a side room

once you enter only then do you realise it’s a laundry room

how fitting 👀

you say “Come on, tell me how you did it.” as you cross your arms and glare at him

“Did what?”

“you know what I mean, don’t play dumb with me, how did you turn all of my washing pink, and might I add, my work uniform too!”

“Ohhh that, it was far too easy. You really should keep your windows locked when you’re out.” he says as he laughs, like the whole thing is amusing

“So you’re telling me you broke into my apartment?! How did u know where I live??”

at this point you’re pacing around the room, arms flailing wide at the sudden discovery

“Well, I may or may not have asked Taehyung, and he told me, and then I entered, I did not break into your apartment. Anyway, I didn’t touch anything but the washing machine and I had the lovely experience of being serenaded by your roommate’s sex symphony.”

he made a step forward towards you, almost in a challenging way

“Oh I’ll be having harsh words with him later...” you say as you uncross your arms and put them on your hips.

you stand thinking for a second before it sinks in

“Wait.. what did you hear? You said sex symphony, right?”

“Uh yeah, your roommate was proper going at it with someone. At least he had the decency to do it whilst you were out, I guess.” He chuckled

“Oh my days, that means Hobi must’ve had Hyerim round! Go him I guess, but also ewww”

“Anyways we’ve bounced around the issue enough here, you ruined my clothes and broke into my apartment!” you exclaim backing up against the wall

Jungkook starts to close the gap between you two

“So? What’re you going to do about?”

your back pressed flush with the wall, you start to realise how close he really is

you can see the small freckles that dot the bridge of his nose, the thick eyelashes that frame his eyelids, the totally sinful look in his eyes

like this you start to realise how shockingly handsome he is

no wonder he has a slight reputation in class

you had no idea why he was looking at you this way

“I-I’ll call campus security..” You begin

“Will you really now?” he retorts as he slams his hand into the wall behind you, caging you in

“I w-will” a whisper that falls on deaf ears

before you even register, his lips have attached themselves to yours and you feel his thumb under your jaw

he works his lips against yours and you feel your legs start to tremble

he tastes sweet and robust, like syrup on your tastebuds

you mould into his kiss and then break away, panting for air, wanting more

everything felt so wrong, yet so right at the same time

it was as if your current issue had melted away and the only thing you could focus on was the way he looked at you and how his soft lips felt against yours

“J-Jungkook? What’re we doing?” you asked, a giggle leaving you

you rest your head against chest, clasping at his tshirt

“I couldn’t resist, you’re so hot when you’re angry”

he places a firm kiss against your cheek, takes your hand in his, and leads you back to the party

you couldn’t believe you’d just done that, let him kiss you so easily

but once you let him, it felt so right, like it was supposed to be that way, him lapping you up like a parched man to water

it felt so natural to have his arm round your waist like it was now

the pair of you approached Taehyung, still clutched together

“What happened to you two? I heard _____ went off on one and then you both were missing for ages. And now you both show up all over each other... what went down 👀”

“Well you know, hate and love are both forms of passion.” Jungkook says with a smirk

“excuse me? Assuming I love you? I let you kiss me once and you say it’s love? I’ll show you love” you retort

“Oooh she’s feisty; so you kissed? Damn, things’re moving quickly for you two, one minute Jungkook’s asking me for your address, the next you’re sucking each other’s faces off. I’m one of hell of a wing man, if I do say so myself.”

Taehyung flips an imaginary lock of hair out of his way like a sassy high school cheerleader

You both just laugh, at Taehyung, and because of how crazy it is,

It’s almost like you didn’t know you liked him like that until it smacked you in the face

“Do you want a drink? A beer?” Jungkook asks pouring himself a glass of punch

“That’d be great, thank you” you reply as you realise how much more time you want to spend with this annoying but totally handsome dork of a boy

༄ 𝖳𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗈 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀! ༄

This was just a little fic I wrote a while ago which had formatting errors so I fixed it for y’alI, Hope you enjoyed it ☺️ Let me know what you thought of it and feel free to like and reblog <3

131 notes · View notes

sincosinetan · 4 years

Text

L'manburg; Finishing Wilbur's Unfinished Symphony

A Historical Essay-S2

L’manburg, the second oldest nation within the Dream SMP, has been blown up thrice, and betrayed many times more. Too many betrayals, and in this season, too many new nations and alliances formed. And all over that, the Crimson is creeping into our lives, and into the bodies of many others. In this essay, I will, to the best of my ability, explain and analyse every action that the members of the Dream SMP have done, and attempt to predict the future of the next season, as Wilbur’s unfinished symphony is finally completed by three people and an unexpected alliance.

One thing I did not mention in my last essay was the 3 lives system. If one SMP member dies 3 times, or their chosen amount of lives, they ‘permadeath’ in the game, dying as if in real life. However, the death only counts as a ‘canon’ death if it was important to the plotline, dividing the deaths into ‘canon deaths’ and ‘respawnable deaths’. The current death counter of the time of writing (17/1/2021) can be found at the end of the essay, and the current death counter can be found on the Dream SMP Wiki.

New L’manburg is the nation of Manburg. But, you may remember that Manburg was blown up by Wilbur Soot, with underground nukes and bombs. However, the presidency of Tubbo_, along with Quackity and many others repaired the nuked mess of Manburg to a new nation, and gave it a new shine and charm. TommyInnit also helped rebuild, although he was more for fun than helping.

New L’manburg was also the home of several new members. In fact, following the tradition of the war periods before, 6 new members had joined the server, just like every other period following the wars before.

The new members were Ph1lza Minecraft, ConnorEatsPants, CaptainPuffy, Vikkstar123, LazerBeam and Ranboo. Many of these members play an important part in the later storyline.

After Schlatt’s funeral, Quackity took the remains of Schlatt, eating his heart during the drunk party, but kept all 5 of the bones. With these items, Quackity believes he could revive Schlatt from the dead, as Schlatt still had 1 canon life left.

Tommy and Ranboo burnt down GeorgeNotFound’s house together, but when taken to trial by the government, Tommy covered for Ranboo, due to Ranboo forgetting the event because of endermen memory loss. Yet, this event gave Dream an excuse to manipulate Tubbo and Tommy, and by extension the people of L’manburg. He threatened New L’manburg’s freedom, building obsidian walls around New L’manburg, and only agreed to take the walls down if Tommy was exiled and banished from his nation once more, under the justification of ‘removing rebels from your (Tubbo’s) nation.’

Tubbo, for the sake of his nation’s independence and his people’s freedom, decided to exile Tommy, disuniting the clingy duo. Dream took Tommy in a boat to a new plains biome, that no one had been before, and Ghostbur followed along. You see, the terms of Tommy’s exile was to leave to somewhere that was nowhere near civilization at all.

During Tommy’s time of exile, Dream played the part of a ‘friend’. He would manipulate Tommy into thinking he had no friends other than Dream, and even planned a beach party with Tommy, only to destroy the invites afterwards. Dream also destroyed Tommy’s armor and tools after the dusk of everyday.

One day, Tommy stored some armor and tools in a secret base under his house. Dream, however, when destroying his stuff with TNT found the stash. At this point in history, Tommy had tried to suicide many times, as he only had one life remaining (see 3 Lives System) through jumping into lava in the nether. Dream, however, stopped him. We can consider the reasons and motives of why Dream, the puppeteer of the server, decided to stop him from dying.

One possible reason is that if Dream wanted to keep Tubbo and therefore the rest of the server not within the lands of The Greater SMP Nation. Dream has been cutting away at everything with meaning to him, as if cutting the strings and ropes that held him down.

Another important thing to remember is that Dream swapped sides just before the Manburg-Pogtopia war, because of something Schlatt gave Dream before his heart attack/stroke killed him. But, on the topic of Schlatt, he hasnt burnt through all his lives. The Manburg Festival firework death, and his heart attack/stroke leaves him with one life remaining, although we’ll talk more about this later.

That special something was a written book. But, Dream said that the book didn't contain any ‘war” information. So, what could have that book contained? We know it wasn't a simple joke, as Dream isn't playing around and wouldn't give up his position on the winning side for a joke; this is evident in him cutting all attachment to him, removing his friends, and ignoring the leather of his dead horse Spirit.

It couldn't be a hint to the third disk in Tommy’s possession; everyone knows it is in his enderchest, safe. I believe it was a book of information(see Schlatt’s book), causing Dream to become self-aware. Dream’s motives were always evil, but self-awareness could have made him more cautious, or be able to carry out these plans more efficiently. Self-awareness did not make Dream evil though, as he was aiming to destroy the people of L’manburg from the start, a tyrant like the ones Technoblade swears to destroy.

Back to Tommy, his last stint at Logstedshire, the plains biome, named by Ghostbur, Tommy tried to kill himself again, after Dream blowing his stuff up again, this time from jumping off a height that would surely kill him. However, he changed his mind half jump, and landed in a pool of water, breaking his fall. The tall one-block wide tower, however, remained.

Tommy left Logstedshire, and ran his way, over many days, to his old ally, Technoblade’s house. He lived there, stealing from Techno for food and supplies.

During this time where most fans focused on Tommy and Dream’s exile shenanigans, BadBoyHalo, Antfrost, Skeppy and CaptainPuffy discovered an egg in Bad’s statue room. The egg was red and crimson in colour, and gained the nickname of The Crimson. Some ‘vines’ composed of red blocks also spread from the egg. Bad showed Dream and Awsamdude the egg, and told them to touch it, saying that it would make them feel good. Dream and Sam seemed repulsed to the egg, however.

The egg has been proven to be able to corrupt minds, as when Puffy touched it later, she became more greedy and self-centred. The egg can also control certain minds, such as Skeppy’s, to become protective or attached to the egg. Ponz found a small piece of red vine in his base, and became attached to it, calling it ‘Lil Red’. Bad protected the egg, and Skeppy just wanted to stay with it, even after knowing the risks.

Bad and Ant, both manipulated by the egg, spread the vines to different parts of the server through placing crimson nylium, which would pass on the crimson vines. But, those affected by crimson and the crimson itself had a couple of weaknesses. Holy water from Church Prime(also see Twitch Prime) would remove the corruption from the corrupted and controlled, and kill the crimson it was put on. Soul flames, similar to the fires lit on soul sand or soul soil, would burn the crimson vines. However regular fires do not work. Also, the uniforms from Church Prime acts similar to hazmat suits when examining the egg.

After Sam removed the corruption from Bad, Ant and Puffy, he explained the above weaknesses to the group. Sam had been researching the crimson this whole time. Skeppy, however, due to prolonged contact with the egg, was not able to be ‘cleansed’ of the egg’s corruption.

Philza was put under house arrest after the government discovered him helping a fugitive: Technoblade. A compass leading to Techno’s house was discovered in a chest of Philza’s house, and a branch of the government named The Butcher Army decided to take one of Technoblade’s canon lives, although Techno had decided not to be destructive or make any threats towards New L’manburg.

The Butcher Army ventured to the tundra, and told Technoblade he was under trial. Of course, Techno refused to be arrested, and he fought off the army until Quackity took Techno’s horse, Carl and threatened Carl’s life. Techno then agreed to go to trial, as long as his horse didn't get hurt.

When they returned to New L’manburg, it was revealed that it was not a trial, but an execution for Techno’s previous war crimes of spawning withers. However, Technoblade managed to escape with Dream and Punz’s help (Punz being hired as hitman by Dream), and Techno now owes Dream a favor.

Technoblade discovered Tommy living in his house after a couple of days, and offered him an ultimatum: either side with him, or die in the freezing cold of the snow tundra. Tommy chose the former, and the alliance between the two was formed, only because Tommy desired to get back his disks to stop the conflict.

Tubbo once ventured to Logstedshire, and saw Tommy’s tower, and believed that Tommy had killed himself, and was dead. But, this next point of conflict will end the sadness around Tubbo’s death, and start a new bout of angst.

The two ventured to L’manburg a couple of times, but the main focus of these travels was the final trip together. They were confronted by 20 people at the blown up community house, with no knowledge of what was going on.

It turns out, Dream found out that the oldest structure on the server, the community house, was blown up by ‘Tommy’. To everyone’s knowledge, no one else would do it other than Tommy, yet Tommy had no motive to do so. So everyone believed Dream, until Tommy and Techno showed up. Dream was building back up the obsidian walls to prevent L’manburg from having freedom. Tubbo and the other members of the cabinet were protesting, but Dream being the powerful entity, ignored them.

Techno was willing to fight all 20+ people at the meeting, but Tommy turned sides and joined Tubbo and the government in uniting L’manburg, ignoring the disks. Techno, Philza, who had left his house, and Dream decided to unite and destroy the government; and not just setting bombs under L’manburg, they wanted to make it so that nothing could rise up again.

On the final day(6/1/2021), Technoblade, Dream and Philza bombed L’manburg with TNT droppers from the sky, and destroyed the whole country. Many people see L’manburg as running out of canon lives (see L’manburg in the glossary). Niki, against the government but not necessarily an Anarchist, burnt down the L’manburg Tree, also known as the L’mantree or the L’tree. She then said one of the main lines, ‘It was never meant to be.’

Technoblade spawned in approximately 11 withers, and blew up the Bee House first. His hound army also helped with thinning out the crowd. However, none of the deaths counted as canon during this time.

Yet, there is one thing to remember: Dream didn't call in his favor from Technoblade, which will be important in the plot of season 3.

Without any information from season 3 leaking in, I believe that the favor Technoblade owes Dream will be used very well, and I hope that no one starts a new government, otherwise the Arctic Anarchists will come back to shut it down.

#dream smp #my writing #skye writes #how do i tag #someone tell me tags to add to this

6 notes · View notes

simplyhalo · 4 years

Text

💀 * [ sophie turner + nonbinary + they/them ] —— have you met halo bennett? they are a twenty-two year old junior currently studying classical studies. they live on farrow house and word around campus is that this taurus is determined + trustworthy, as well as stubborn + insensitive. i wonder if they’ll make it out alive. tea that has long gone cold; writing in the margins of worn leather books; the crunch of leaves beneath heavy oxfords. [ ooc: aj. 22. they/them & pst. ]

i’m aj,, i’m a college student and a full time employee and i haven’t written in almost a year,, so it might take me a bit to get back into the swing of things,, but i love this idea so so much and can’t wait to see where it goes!!

💫 fundamentals

𝒇𝒖𝒍𝒍 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆 : halo bennett

𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒃𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒉 : april 20th 1998

𝒃𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒉 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒕 : ❂ taurus ☾ aquarius ↟ capricorn

𝒃𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒆 : mykonos, greece

𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒐𝒘𝒏 : salt lake city, utah

𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 : ivory falls, maine

𝒔𝒆𝒙𝒖𝒂𝒍 𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 : bisexual

💫 loves

𝒒𝒖𝒐𝒕𝒆 : amor omnia vincit.

𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒓 : forest green

𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒅𝒂𝒚 : dusk

𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒕 : a dwindling fire

halo,, is THE quintessential parent friend™️

they've got four younger siblings ( three sisters and a brother) halo - 22 ; bailey - 12 ; chandler, charlotte, christina - 9

their closest sibling was born when they were 10 so they really were like the third parent in their house,, especially because their parents were rarely around / were too busy working

their parents are andrew and georgia bennett (nee coulson), an journalist and forensic anthropologist respectively.

the name halo comes from a nickname they had based off of their birth name.

they came out as bisexual when they were 14 and then 3 years later they came out as nonbinary

their parents got a divorce when they were sixteen

mom became an anthropology professor at university of utah

mom got custody of all of the kids

mom is super supportive of halo and both their gender identity and sexual orientation

dad moved out after the divorce and rarely comes around

dad was okay with their sexual orientation, but has a harder time accepting their gender identity, still refers to them as his daughter and calls them by their dead name

because of this they don’t speak to their father

they were born in mykonos, greece and lived there for 7 years before their mom got a job opportunity in slc, utah so they moved there and lived there until they moved out for college

leaving home was one of the hardest things they've ever done because they left behind their siblings and they felt like they were leaving them without a parent. so they try and visit home as often as possible

when they moved to utah it was very much the mean girls "if you're from africa why are you white?" but y'know about greece bc people don't expect this pale person to come from an island nation

also they are definitely the person who if someone says something about the singular they pronoun will just link them to an article about it and move on with their day bc "it's not my job to teach you when google is right there and FREE"

also very much will tell people "nonbinary people don't owe you androgyny" bc they like how they look and don't care what some else thinks they should look like

they're always carrying tampons, pads, various medicines, water, hair ties, band-aids, etc just in case they just like to be prepared

they’ve always muttered to themselves in greek bc they grew up around the language and it's comforting to them,, but since starting school and becoming a classic studies major they've started to do in latin too

they’re almost always muttering and mumbling to keep their thoughts straight

they are a taurus,, but like an aries/taurus cusp so they've got some aries tendencies but they stick more to taurus as far as personality goes

#holloway.intro #this is just the basics but i'll update it tomorrow #my brain is fried from work lmao #okay okay okay so this is just bullet points bc my brain doesn't want to write out full thoughts rn #they'll have a bio page up soon enough

10 notes · View notes

littlejeanniebean · 5 years

Text

The Marauders | Moony

A/N: Takes place after Padfoot & Wormtail, before Prongs. Fluff, angst, and gratuitous self-discovery if you can call it that. ~1800 words because apparently I’m a liar when I say I don’t have favourites.

Also, I got my first tag request from the talented @hp-art-by-nanse <3

Agh, I can’t believe my first fanfic series is complete! I’m gonna go be happy and sad at the same time now. Happy Marauders Readathon Day!

- J xx

“I don’t think this is such a good idea, lads,” Wormtail quivered from under the invisibility cloak, “Moony always respects our privacy!”

“Shh!” James and Padfoot hissed, huddled close beside him.

If Albus Dumbledore saw an odd shoe or edge of a cloak ambling across the moonlit grounds towards the Whomping Willow after him, he didn’t let on. The sagely wizard simply cast an engorgio charm on a twig and touched it to the knot at the base of the willow.

“Merlin’s beard!” exclaimed James.

“Calm down, Sleekeazy,” Padfoot snorted.

“No. Just no,” said the boy as he cast lumos once Dumbledore and Moony had disappeared into the passageway, “Padfoot, would you care to do the honours?”

“Don’t mind if I do, Evans-eyes,” the long-haired boy touched the tree knot.

“Up yours, follow me, and for Godric’s sake, don’t get the cloak caught in anything.”

Halfway through the tunnel, the boys heard a chilling howl.

“Do… do you think this leads to the Forbidden Forest?” Wormtail’s wand arm was terribly unsteady with fear.

“There are no werewolves in the Forbidden Forest,” James assured him.

“Can’t say the same for normal wolves, though,” Padfoot couldn’t resist, earning a smack upside the head from James.

“Dumbledore’s on the other side with Moony. It can’t be dangerous.”

“Right,” Wormtail nodded vigorously, mostly to himself, “Right.”

“A dead-end,” James huffed.

“A trap door,” Padfoot pointed up.

“Ah, I knew that. Alohamora,” he jiggled the enchanted padlock, but it was still locked fast.

“Ow!”

“Alright, Wormtail?” James checked on their friend.

“Fine. Just stubbed my toe on a rock - hey! There’s a key under here,” he handed it over to the taller boys to use.

Padfoot stood on James’ shoulders and threw the door open, “Et viol-”

A low growl in the dark had them backing up against the tunnel wall.

“What… what is that?” Wormtail hid behind James, who bravely held his wand aloft and said,

“C’mon, Moony needs us! Ascendio!” he landed neatly only to see Dumbledore sitting primly on the sofa at the centre of a torn-apart living room, a werewolf - yes, a werewolf, at his feet.

Padfoot followed, quiet as ever, and Wormtail, well, Wormtail tried his best.

“Oof! Sorry, sorry!” he dusted himself off as he stood.

The old man held his fingers to his lips and beckoned the boys closer.

“Where’s Moony, Headmaster?” James whispered, sitting beside him.

He gazed upon them over his half-moon glasses, “Do you not see him? You’re his closest friends, are you not? Do you not recognize him?”

“Oh, Moony,” Padfoot knelt down beside the sleeping creature, weary from his transformation, “No wonder you’re always exhausted…”

Wormtail wandered closer and Padfoot made room.

“How can we help him?” James asked, brown eyes sharp and alert.

“You have been, all of you. Your friendship reminds him that he is still a wizard and still in the most essential way, human. But we must go now. When he wakes… he will not be so tame.”

“But this is when he needs us most!” Padfoot protested in a hushed tone.

Wormtail swallowed his fear and nodded in agreement.

“In that case, there is a book in the restricted section,” Dumbledore handed them a permission slip, “I suggest you give it a read.”

“Advanced Transfiguration Volume VII,” James read it, “Sir, with all due respect -”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” said the boys.

“Then you will read it. And perhaps you will be able to return here sooner than you think.”

The werewolf whimpered and stirred.

“May we say goodbye?” asked Padfoot.

The headmaster nodded.

“It’s us, Moony,” said the bespectacled boy, “James, Pads, and Wormtail… We’re here for you. Hang in there.”

“I’ll have a trunk full of chocolate frogs waiting for you when you get back,” Padfoot said loud enough for the others to hear and then leaned in so he was barely a centimeter from the wolf’s ear, “We love you, Moons, you can always count on that.”

“When you told me you knew how I felt, about feeling like an outsider,” said Wormtail, “I had no idea… I’m the one who can’t possibly know… but... we're the Marauders. We'll figure this out. You’ll see.”

The boys retraced their steps through the tunnel, Dumbledore bringing up the rear. As they reemerged from under the Whomping Willow, they heard a low, mournful howl.

Once the boys got their hands on the book, there was much to do. Upon Moony’s return from “the private hospital wing,” he did not fail to notice all the “secret” running about by the other three marauders.

“Wormtail,” he stopped the boy on his way to Divination, “James and Padfoot aren’t doing anything stupid, are they?”

“No more than usual,” he shrugged nonchalantly.

“Anything I can help with?”

“Prongs said you just rest up until it’s time to do your bit -”

“Prongs?”

“Uh… I think I hear... my... stomach growling… because I’m starving. I’m just… gonnapopondowntothekitchensnowbye!”

“Prongs,” the pale-faced boy said to a full and suddenly very silent dormitory that evening. James was the first to raise his head before he realized who was speaking, as Moony expected.

“I’m just going to leave now,” Kingsley Shacklebolt shut the door behind him.

“Right,” Moony slid off the bed and looked at each boy in turn, “Who wants to go first?”

“Well, we’ve been trying to come up with a nickname for James for a while,” Wormtail.

“And we learned to cast patronuses for kicks,” Padfoot.

“Mine turned out to be a stag,” Prongs.

“Is there… a reason none of you wanted to share this with me?” Moony asked with a subdued quietness.

“No!” Padfoot.

“No, not at all!” Prongs.

“We just wanted to wait until you were feeling better,” explained Wormtail, “but we know how you are around the opportunity to learn something new. I fainted seven times before I could hold the spell.”

“That’s all, truly,” Prongs.

“If you are feeling better, Moons, we can show you right now,” Padfoot grabbed his wand, “The incantation is Expecto Patronum but the most important part is to think happy thoughts.”

Moony barely heard him and his eyes were far away as he spoke, “You know what, lads… You’re right, I… I am feeling rather tired. I suppose I should wait a bit… and perhaps pay Pomfrey another visit -”

Wormtail scampered off his bed quickly, “Wait, Moony -”

“It’s alright. I’m alright. Night.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Padfoot cast a frustrated reducto on his mattress, which proceeded to explode in fluffy white feathers.

“That… could have gone better,” Prongs wiped his glasses on the hem of his pajama shirt.

“He’ll understand when he sees us in the shack next month… right?” Wormtail chewed on his nails.

“Of course,” Padfoot said both for his friend and himself, “Of course, he will. But he wouldn’t let us do it if he knows beforehand, so we must keep the secret for now. As difficult as it may be.”

That entire month, Moony moped and trudged, and ate far too much chocolate. The Marauders' secrecy persisted and he finally wrote home, asking to be removed from Hogwarts because he was feeling so poorly and strongly suspected that Dumbledore intercepted his letter somehow because he was summoned to the headmaster’s office within the next twenty-four hours. Or perhaps it was simply the morning before a full moon night.

“Chocolate frog, Mr. Lupin?”

“No, thank you, sir.”

“I see…” he gestured for the boy to have a seat, “Your professors have expressed some concern with your performance this month.”

“Sorry, Headmaster.”

“It’s not me you should be apologizing to. Nor to your professors.”

“I’m not good with riddles, sir. That’s the only reason I told the hat ‘hard pass’ on Ravenclaw.”

Dumbledore chuckled, “May I ask how you are feeling, Mr. Lupin?”

The boy sensed what subject the old man was trying to be tactful in broaching, “The new wolfsbane brew helps greatly, sir. Thank you.”

“But how are you feeling?”

“Sir?”

“You, Remus John Lupin, how do you feel?”

The boy's shoulders sagged in defeat underneath his oversized jumper, “I’m grateful for the opportunity to study here, Professor Dumbledore, but I… I don’t think I can continue to… to put other students’ lives at risk. I’ve written home and… we’ll make other arrangements for my education.”

“You mention, ‘risk.’”

“Yes, because of... what I am.”

“Since you mention your dislike for riddles, I will be direct. To place your life in another’s hands is a great risk, but so too is it to lay your heart bare. And that is where trust comes in. Trust in your friends and their goodness, and in yourself and yours. I'll see you tonight, Remus.”

"Yeah."

At dusk they followed the familiar trail down to the Whomping Willow, then to the Shrieking Shack. Dumbledore lifted the trap door and smiled behind his long white beard, "After you, Mr. Lupin."

"Thank y-Padfoot? Prongs? Wormtail?" he looked at each quietly excited boy in turn, "What are you lot doing here?"

"Watch, watch!" Wormtail squealed excitedly, his ears already beginning to enlarge while his head shrunk, and then a little garden rat emerged from his crumpled robes.

Padfoot was next, and he turned into a shaggy black dog. Prongs, a handsome stag.

"I… I don't understand…" Remus marvelled at the animals - his friends.

The boys changed back.

"If you happen to bite us accidentally in wolf form, we won't turn if we're in our animagus form!" Prongs explained happily.

"Ani-animag- that's - how - you - might've - so much could've gone wrong trying it before physical maturity!"

"Which is exactly why we had to keep it secret until we'd done it!" Padfoot leapt in a circle around him, "So you wouldn't stress trying to talk us out of it!"

Moony felt his bones begin to creak, his eyesight began to shift, and his teeth sharpen ever so slightly. Yet, he was so full of elation and love for the boys - his boys. He hugged each of them quickly while he could and they transformed together.

Bonus scene:

"Expecto Patronum!" Moony closed his eyes and thought hard about the night before. Seeing his friends, feeling their presence and care even in his transformed state. When they played hide and seek and Wormtail always won and James always lost. And when he awoke to the sun peaking through the tattered curtains, his form was human, but he could still feel a patch of coarse fur tickling at his side. It was Padfoot as a black dog, snoring louder and drooling more than the boy usually did. Moony had never smiled so wide so soon after a full moon.

"Expecto Patronum!" a silver wolf burst forth from the tip of his wand and darted in and out of the trees at the edge of the forest.

44 notes · View notes

haleykim84 · 6 years

Text

Rules: answer the questions then tag people you’d like to get to know

Tagged by @rangergirl3 Thank you! I love doing these things! J

Nickname: Kim, Kimmie

Gender: Female

Star sign: Pisces

Height: 5'2.5 (yes, that extra half inch is important! ;))

Sexuality: Pending

Hogwarts House: Uh...I honestly have no idea.

Favorite Animal: Dogs!

Favorite Colour: Purple

Current Favorite Song: At the moment? Dusk till Dawn – Zayn & Sia

Favorite idea to get creative with: Hurt/comfort, friendship and found family themes. I enjoy writing about characters who would follow each other to the end of the world, who would do anything to protect each other.

What do I like to do when I’m alone: Read fic, write, watch movies/tv-shows, but I also love taking the dog for long walks and just going out on hikes in general.

What do I think of my friends:

My friends are my family. They're extremely important to me, and I owe them so much.

Average hours spent sleeping: I try to get at least 8 hours of sleep because I've been extremely tired lately, but I rarely manage more than 6-7 hours, unfortunately.

Cats or dogs: I love both, but I am more of a dog person. Also, I'm allergic to cats :(

Number of blankets I sleep with: One in the summer, two in the winter. (What an odd question though?)

Dream Job: I guess I would love a job that would allow me to live in a comfy little cottage in the middle of nowhere, but I'm not sure what kind of job that would be ;)

Dream Trip: I'm actually going on my dream trip this June! I'll be doing a road trip through the Canadian Rockies, which I've been wanting to do since forever :) I'd also love to do a road trip through Scandinavia and Scotland. They're next on my list :)

When I made this account: Hm…summer 2017, I think?

Number of followers: *checks* 75…inching towards 100! I'm totally gonna do a little prompt thing to celebrate if I manage to reach that milestone :)

Tagging: @nightfell @mishion @noisypaintersong @radiofreekerberos and whoever else wants to join in!

#about me #meme

7 notes · View notes

atomiktaco-moved · 7 years

Text

A Doll Like No Other

Knock, knock, knock. “Hnn, what the fu— ” Jackieboy Man groggily woke up from the knocking that suddenly came from his door. He groaned as he tried to rub some of the sleep away from his eyes.

Dammit! I was having such a nice dream, too. I was about to save the whole city from total destruction! Who the hell dares to wake me up at—he turned to look at his alarm clock—midnight?

Jackieboy Man grew slightly bewildered and uneasy, but he pushed those feelings aside. The great Jackieboy Man never gets scared! He quickly hopped out of his bed and swung the door open, ready to face whatever it was that interrupted his sleep.

Jackieboy Man unhinged his jaw to yell the loudest yell that he ever did yell, but he soon found that he was hollering at nothing but air. “ … What?“ he asked incredulously.

No one was there. He poked his head out the doorway and looked around, craning his neck from side to side in search of whoever had knocked. He still couldn’t find anyone.

… Okay? Jackieboy Man decided to step out, just to make sure he didn’t miss anything else, when his foot accidently struck something on the floor. He bent down and picked up what looked like a wrapped package with a sticky note attached to the surface. In pink, bubbly writing, it read:

A gift to help with letting off some steam. Jackieboy man took one more look around before hesitantly taking the small wrapped "gift” inside and turning the lights on.

Well, if it’s a gift, it can’t be bad, he thought to himself as he eagerly ripped off the paper wrapping. Oooo, I hope it’s some kind of cool, new superhero doodad! His face dropped when he saw what the little “gift” was. “A doll?” He peeled off the rest of the wrapping and inspected the little toy. “What the—? Is this supposed to be Aidan?!" The doll looked just like him, from the green hair to the mismatched eyes to the black shirt and the little yellow boots he loved to wear; everything that made Aidan who he was was all there. Why would someone send him a doll? Especially of someone who Jackieboy Man wasn’t too keen of? Wait. The note said something about letting off some steam? Is this some kind of … therapy doll? That would explain why it looked like Aidan; the little demon was always causing him trouble. But something about the doll still didn’t sit right with him …

Ah, well, that’s a problem for future me to solve. Jackieboy Man tossed the doll aside on a nearby counter top and went back to sleep.

* * * * * * * * * *

"OW! GODDAMMIT!” Jackieboy Man screamed from the top of his lungs as he tried to pry his arm out of Aidan’s mouth. “CHAAAASE!" "Aidan! No!” Chase burst through the kitchen doorway and repeatedly bapped Aidan’s face. “Pbffleh!” Aidan spat, finally relinquishing his custody of the arm. “What happened this time?” Chase dared asked. “He bit me!” Jackieboy man exclaimed as he gestured towards his now bleeding arm. Chase sighed. “And why did this happen?” Chase inquired as he held a hand up and counted with his fingers. “For what? The fifth time this week? And it’s only Monday afternoon!”He looked down at Aidan for an answer this time. "He was being mean to me!” Aidan screeched, pointing to Jackieboy Man. “Was not!” Jackieboy Man unintelligently countered. “Yuh-huh! He called me a baby! He said that I needed a booster seat to be able to sit at the table!" "Well, that was more me calling you short, but baby works just fine for you,” Jackieboy Man taunted. Aidan glared at him and was about to jump up and bite him again if it weren’t for Chase getting between them. “Hey, Little Glitch! How ‘bout we go out and carve some pumpkins, yeah?” “It’s not even Halloween yet. Those pumpkins are gonna rot,” Jackieboy Man remarked. “Permkins!” Aidan beamed, obviously not paying attention to what he just said. Jackieboy Man groaned as Aidan bounced out of the kitchen with Chase following close behind. He’s such a little devil! Arrrrrgggghhhh! Jackieboy Man stomped all the way to his room, retrieving bandages from a drawer along the way for the new bite mark Aidan so generously gave him. Ow! He really bit me hard this time, he grumbled to himself as he wrapped his arm. Everyone thinks he's so sweet. Pwecious wittle Aidan is just so innocent~ Bunch of bullshit! He threw the box of bandages across the room out of growing frustration. It was then that he remembered he had that doll from last night … Jackieboy Man approached the counter top where he had left the doll and gripped it with his hands. He wasn’t a super violent person by nature, but everyone has had at least one day where they were just fed up with everything, right? And, today, it was his turn …

* * * * * * * * * *

“Hmm hmm hm hm—” Aidan hummed happily beside Chase, both of them carrying a small pumpkin in their hands. Dusk had fallen by the time they had returned with their autumn goods. “When we get home, I’ll make us some pumpkin-shaped cookies. That sound cool, Little Glitch?” Chase smiled down at him. Aidan gasped with a wide smile and nodded his head. “Mhm!" They were almost back home when Aidan felt a sudden sharp ache in his chest, causing him to cough up blood on the pumpkin he was holding. "Woah! Are you okay?” Chase asked, concern written all over his face. “Hnnggh … I don’t feel so good … Ah! My arm!” Aidan’s right arm suddenly fell off, causing him to drop the blood-smeared pumpkin to the ground with a thud. Chase stared at him wide-eyed. He wasn’t sure if he was serious or just playing around. It was a little known fact that Aidan had the ability to dismember himself without harm. Heck, he’d even seen Aidan’s head on Robbie’s body before!

Aidan suddenly collapsed to his knees, coughing up even more blood. Okay! Maybe not a joke this time! Chase thought as he set his pumpkin on the ground and went over to Aidan. “Li- Little Glitch … Wh-what’s wrong?!” Chase stuttered, panic taking over him. Aidan couldn’t respond. He was scared, confused even … Nothing like this had ever happened before. His body felt like it was being beaten and torn apart. He could barely breathe. He could feel another limb being ripped from his body; it was his left leg this time. An overwhelming amount of pain swept over his body. Aidan cried out in pain as tears started pouring down his face. Chase let out a scared little shriek. “I-I-I’ll go get th-the doctor! Schneep should know what to do! Just … just hang in there, lil’ buddy; we aren’t that far!” Chase sprinted off in a mad dash towards the house where he was praying Schneep would be. Aidan reached out for Chase but was too late. He didn’t want to be alone, but he couldn’t find the strength to call out the one word that would make him come back: stop.

He was going to die here … alone. Aidan rested his head on the ground, his body growing numb and cold. He gasped for air as he tried to fight off the urge to fall asleep.

But, alas, he was too weak. He couldn’t cling to his consciousness any longer. Dark spots rapidly started closing in around his vision as his eyelids fluttered close, finally being enveloped whole by the black abyss.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Phew! Now that was a real pick-me-up!” Jackieboy Man bounced up and down a couple of times, feeling energized and way better than before. He looked at the little Aidan doll, of which he had just beat the living hell out of, on the floor. He kind of felt bad that he tore the arm and leg off it; he was just getting really into it. Ah, well, that’s what it was meant for, right? SLAM! Jesus Christ! Jackieboy man jumped from the sudden sound of the door being thrown open. He went out to see what the commotion was. “SCHNEEP!” Chase barged through the front door and immediately made his way towards the doctor, who had just emerged from his little makeshift lab. “Chase, vhat iz it? Vhy do you come in screaming like past few patients of mine?" "It’s Aidan! He’s coughing up blood and-and he just fell to the ground! His right arm and left leg fell off, too, but it’s not him doing it! He’s in real trouble this time!” Chase explained between breaths. “Vhat?! Vhere is he? Take me to him now, dammit! He vill not die on my vatch!” Schneep hastily grabbed his medical bag and ran out the door with Chase. Jackieboy Man stood stiff in his doorway. He overheard everything Chase had said, but what stuck out the most to him was the fact that Aidan’s limbs were detached the exact same way Jackieboy Man had torn off the limbs on the doll … He looked down at his now shaking hands, and then at the beaten-up doll on his floor. He hesitantly approached it, wanting to know more about it but also terrified of its power. Just when he thought it couldn’t get any eerier, a black liquid began oozing from the limbs, its odor resembling that of sulfur: a stench so putrid that it made Jackieboy Man gag. He got on his knees and found himself reaching out towards it. He needed to put it back together … He needed to right the wrong that he committed.

But then the doll lit up in flames, and the sound of Chase’s sobs echoed throughout the night.

(edited by the lovely @luvbird4eva) (hope it was spoopy enough ^^)

Okay, So. I want to thank you so so much because holy shit you NAILED EVERYTHING. Like, The way everyone acts is exactly how i imagine. The silly fights Aidan and Jackie have, how Chase reacts to this, how much he cares about Aidan, the nickname he has for him, just...WOAH

#jaidan spooptober #submission

24 notes · View notes

lowcalfics · 7 years

Text

SVT as your best friend’s brother/brother’s best friend

my first ever fluff(angst?) so pls bear(bare?) with me, im sorry that some are longer than others, most of them ended up being like drabbles

if you squint ig you could consider tiny parts of it as mature

Y/NN = your nickname (just use your name if you dont have one)

Y/F/N = your friend’s name

Seungcheol/S. Coups(ft. Jisoo) :

“Seungcheol, what the hell was that?!” he frowned at your words.

”You didn’t like it?”

You blushed, of course you’d liked the kiss you shared with him. You’ve had a crush on him for years but his friendship with Joshua made it extremely hard for you to express your feelings. Catching your own thoughts, you looked back up at a smiling Cheol.

“What about-” he cut you off by placing his lips back on yours making you realize how much you had missed the softness of them.

“If you were gonna make an excuse about your brother, you might as well forget it. What will he do, any way? I’m still his hyung,” he winked and smiled at you before closing the distance between you for the third(and definitely not the last) time.

Jeonghan:

You and Y/F/N had been laughing for so long that neither of you could even remember what you were laughing about, but you stopped abruptly when the most beautiful man you’d ever seen in your life walked in looking annoyed but still very very pretty.

“Hey, brat, could you keep it down?” his eyes snuck over to meet yours, “who’s this?” he smirked at you flicking his hair out of his face.

Your friend finally stopped laughing in order to introduce you, “oh, um, Jeonghan this is Y/N. Y/NN, this is my older brother Jeonghan. He’s annoying as fuck” she turned her head to smile at him bitterly.

Instead of meeting his sister with a snippy comeback or leaving the room like he normally would, he walked in further holding eye contact with you and held out his hand for a handshake, “Nice to meet you, Y/N”

“Likewise,” you held out your hand and he brought it to his lips to kiss it chastely, foreshadowing similar events to come between you two.

Next to you, Y/F/N roller her eyes, “can you guys please eye fuck at a later time? Y/NN and I are busy, Jeonghan”

He mumbled under his breath, “More than just eye fucking,” and smirked at you before leaving the room.

Jisoo/Joshua:

Y/F/N’s family had always treated you as if you were a part of it and you loved it! You were always around and 90% of the time that you spent there was good and the other 10% was called Joshua Hong.

That boy made you feel such anger towards him that you didn’t even think it was possible. You wanted to just remove him from your entire life but he was basically all you talked about. Y/F/N would complain about how often you talked about him but she was only receiving half of what you wanted to say. Yes, Joshua was a know-it-all, selfish, entitled, annoying prick, but he was also the main character of many wet dreams that your subconscious had created since you’d met the boy.

You would try your best to only spend the night at Y/F/N’s house when Joshua wouldn’t be there but unfortunately tonight wouldn’t go as planned.

You and Y/F/N were making “inside s’mores” when he walked into the kitchen making your bubbly mood drop instantly.

He hugged his little sister and kissed her forehead, “you still hang out with this loser, huh?” earning himself a slap on the arm from your friend and an eye roll from you.

Not wanting to start trouble you opened the fridge looking for a drink.

“What, no more bitchy comebacks?” you could hear him walking towards you but you continued to ignore him just bending over to look further into the fridge. You didn’t realize how short you pj shorts were but Joshua was well aware of the show you were obliviously giving him.

Y/F/N decided to interrupt before you went off on her bro, “wow, Y/NN, you’re being super mature right now, right Josh?”

“Yea,” he licked his lips, “she’s really grown up, I might have to reconsider how I’m treating her.”

Jun(ft. Vernon):

“No, nope, fuck no, God no,”

“Well Vernon, you don’t really have a say anyway, if I like Jun then I like Jun”

“Y/NN please don’t do this to me, I don’t want you getting hurt!” Vernon kept talking but you had zoned him out after that, regretting even telling him about your crush in the first place.

You knew about Jun’s reputation of being player, a lady killer...but you didn’t care. He could tear out your heart and feed it to his cat if he wanted to and you would say thank you because he was that fucking hot. Your brother was wrong, you didn’t need to be babied, you just wanted Jun to rock your world, one night only edition so that your heart couldn’t be broken in the process.

So, you had confidence when you got up from the table where you, Vernon, Jun, and a couple others were sitting and walked over to Jun sitting in his lap. He was surprised but both of you smiled at each other(you caught the wink that he sent in Vernon’s direction before looking back at you). Neither of you could predict that the next morning when Jun woke up to only a note from you thanking him for that night, he would be the one with a feeling of something missing from his heart.

Soonyoung/Hoshi:

You rang the doorbell, ready to greet Y/F/N for your movie marathon but you were pleasantly surprised when your boyfriend (her big brother) opened the door.

You gave each other sly smiles, “is your sister home?” you asked him, not sure which answer would make you happier.

“Fortunately, Y/F/N went out with my dad to get some things for a movie marathon. Looks like it’s just you and me,” he smirked pulling you inside and taking your stuff away and letting it fall to the ground next to you.

“Hey, those are nice clothes, Soony-” he cut you off by pulling you by your belt loops into a long overdue kiss. As you let him take over dominance in the kiss, he pulled you into the kitchen and picked you up putting you on the counter.

“I missed you,” he mumbles into the kiss as you thread your finger through the hair at the back of his neck

You chuckle, “take me with you next time, then,” he groans at the idea of a week away from everyone but you two. The things he could do with all that time...

His thoughts are interrupted when you both hear his father clearing his throat. You hop down from the counter, your face becoming even redder than it already had been. “You two might wanna fix yourselves before Y/F/N walks in,” he shakes his head laughing and walking away.

“AND USE PROTECTION!”

Wonwoo:

“Wonwoo, come downstairs for a second?” your friend called for his fraternal twin brother.

“what do you want?” he groaned seeing that food was not the reason that he had been forced to come downstairs.

“My friend is coming over, I don’t want you to annoy or distract us so can you please stay away?”

“Depends, is she hot?”

“Wonwoo, I’m gay, how the fuck should I know?” Just then you rang the doorbell, “that’s her, please leave now.”

Wonwoo didn’t listen to his brother, following him to the door instead.

When Y/F/N opened the door, instead of greeting you, Wonwoo just said, “yes, yes she is” to his brother answering his own question. He winked at you leaving you confused before leaving you both alone for the rest of the night.

Somehow, before you left, he put his number in your phone as “Oppa Wonwoo” making you blush before texting him so that he would have your number as well.

Jihoon/Woozi(ft. Jeonghan):

“I must be the greatest friend in the world,” Jihoon yawned to your brother.

“Sorry that I had to drag you here, it’s to torture my little sister,” Jeonghan explained, “she has a crush on you and she already has stage fright,” Jihoon just nodded in understanding.

You made eye contact with your brother from backstage and glared at him as he waved. Mentally taking note to shave his head later, you flipped him off and stormed away all of a sudden very nervous about your performance.

By now, your dance was muscle memory so no matter how fast you could feel your heart palpitating, the rest of your body would flow to the familiar music. Performing somehow calmed you this time around, but the butterflies returned when you saw that Jihoon hadn’t stayed to see your entire performance,

Once the recital was over and you only found Jihoon without your brother, you couldn’t help but ask, “why’d you leave?”

“I’m sorry,Y/N,” he had hoped that you wouldn’t notice,” I had to take a call, but I watched you from outside through the door. It wasn’t the best view but I saw how amazing you did. I got you some flowers,” he smiled handing you a nice arrangement.

You blushed and nodded because his explanation was alright, but before you could thank him, Jeonghan found you both holding his own little bouquet of roses, “Are those for me too?” you asked excitedly reaching for them

“No,” the long-haired boy snatched the roses just out of your reach, “they’re for Joshua.”

On the ride home, your brother forced both of you to sit in the back so that Josh’s flowers had enough room. But it was ok because this gave you the chance to read your note from Jihoon that he had put in the flowers. Both of you were blushing while you read the heartfelt confession. Somehow your fingers had slipped and intertwined themselves with Jihoon’s own.

And if you forgot to shave Jeonghan’s head that night because you were texting a certain boy from dusk to dawn then no one had to know ;)

Dokyeom/Seokmin:

“Seokmin please focus! I need you to do this dance with me by tomorrow and you still have like 10 counts to learn!”

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m just not as good as my brother,” the older boy complained and you wanted to slap him...so you did, “Ow! What was that for?!”

“You’re just as good a dancer as your brother is, maybe even better. The only problem is that you won’t focus because you couldn’t give a shit about the dance or the talent show or fucking anything!” you finally went off on him. You knew that the boy wouldn’t want to do such an intimate dance with you (he probably already knew about the embarrassing crush that you had on him), but you’d hoped that he would stay professional. That was all obviously in vain.

“Wait!” he called after you as you were storming out to go cool down. When you turned to face him he sighed dropping his head in shame, “Y/NN, I already know the dance, I just don’t feel like doing it with you right now.”

That really hurt you, “I already knew that you didn’t like me, I just hoped that you would be nice enough to help me!” you started to walk out again hoping to get away before the tears started.

Unfortunately, the boy grabbed your arm stopping you then pulled you by it bringing your chest to his own and forcing your teary eyes to look into his.

“I don’t want to dance with you right now because I’d rather be doing this,” he whispers to you before placing a soft, slow, passionate kiss upon your lips.

Mingyu(ft. Wonwoo):

Mingyu [22:42] - Y/NN, you look beautiful here

Y/NN [22:50] - Mingyu, sweetie, can you pls do me a favor?

Mingyu [22:50] - Of course

Mingyu [22:50] - You can count on me

Y/NN [22:52] - thnx babe, im gonna need you to slide tf out of my dm’s

Mingyu [22:53] - oh, do you wanna ft?

Y/NN [22:54] - no, mingyu, i wanna sleep

Mingyu [22:54] - your wonwoo told me that you have a crush on me ;)

Y/NN [22:57] - oh my god ignore him

Mingyu [22:58] - but wonwoo said you talk abt me sometimes, why wont you talk to me

Y/NN [22:59] - if wonwoo has so much to say why dont you talk to him

Mingyu [23:00] - that almost sounded like you ere jealous ;) wonwoo cant come close to how amazing you are. baby you are my angel

Y/NN [23:00] - oh my god you’re so dramatic

Mingyu [23:02] - *romantic

Mingyu [23:02] - if you’re that tired right now then we can just discuss our future relationship over chick-fil-a tmr after school

Y/NN [23:06] - fine, but only if you get me a milkshake

Mingyu [23:06] - i’ll get you one of every flavor

Unfortunately, you both kept your promises.

Minghao/The8(ft.Jun):

(his fucking arms in this gif???)

“That’s Jun’s little sister, I would fuck off if I were you,” you heard a familiarly annoying and condescending voice as the cute guy you were talking to walked away as if you two didn’t even know each other.

“Are you kidding me?!”

“No but it is kinda funny, don’t you think?” you wanted to slap the smirk of the boy’s face.

“What if that was my future boyfriend, Minghao?” you tried to force the boy to have some pity on you.

“Do you think your brother would like you dating that guy?” he had a point.

You shrugged, “I don’t care about what my brother likes.”

He chuckled at your response, “What about what I like?”

You laughed, “And why should I care about what you like, Minghao?”

“Well self-care is important, isn’t it?” it took you a minute to understand what he meant but once you did he was gone and all you wanted to do was find him.

Boo Seungkwan:

Y/F/N and you were playing a game called “Remember When” just to get a conversation started.

You giggled, “remember when we couldn’t decide which members of TWICE we wanted to be and we both started crying?”

Your friend could barely breathe from laughing and neither could you. That was until your friend suddenly gasped remembering something and then started laughing so hard she cried.

“What, what is it tell meeeee,” you whined.

Just then her older brother Seungkwan walked in smiling at you when you both made eye contact. But before you could acknowledge the boy, his oblivious sister cackled, “remember when you had a crush on my brother?”

Y/F/N was laughing so hard that she didn’t notice how wide your eyes got once she said it. Your face turned bright red and you decided that the ceiling was so much more interesting than anything anyone else in the room had to say.

“Why’re you being so quiet? Do you still have a crush on him?” your head snapped back up and you tried to give her a death glare so she could just burn too death on the spot bc you could still see Seungkwan out of your peripheral vision, “Oh my gosh, you do!” she screamed.

You just turned around and buried your face in a pillow deciding that if you couldn’t kill Y/F/N then you would just kill yourself instead.

You almost had a heart attack when you felt Seungkwan’s hand patting your back, “Don’t worry Y/N, its not your fault that I’m so handsome. You call me if you want to talk about it, ok? Let me know just how much you really like me.”

The first part he was teasing you, but you thought that maybe the second part was serious when he forced his sister to give you his phone number...

Vernon:

“Hey baby bro,” Y/F/N smiled at Hansol as you both passed him on the couch ruffling his hair.

“I’m one year younger, please shut up” he replied in a bittersweet tone.

Vernon rolled his eyes and you frowned walking over behind him, “Aww, Hannie’s sad,” you start using the voice you would to speak to a baby, “tell your noonas what to do to make it all better,” you and your friend chuckled almost evilly.

“Well, Y/NN,” he look up at you, “Why don’t you blow me and see if that helps?” he smiled evilly back up at you as you gasped offendedly.

Y/F/N laughed along with her brother before saying that she needed to go find her phone.

You walked into the kitchen still salty about Vernon’s joke as you bent down looking in the fridge, “You guys have like no snacks,” you said standing up only to be face to face(chest) with the younger boy.

As you looked up at him he asked, “Do you think I’m still a kid, Y/N?” and you shook your head no seeing that he had obviously grown.

Just then he picked you up and placed you onto the counter putting his own body very close to yours in between your legs. Speaking of..

“Do you think I won’t fuck those stupid little comments out of you just because you’re my noona?” he asked brushing your hair behind your ear.

Chan/Dino(ft. S. Coups):

Your ear is pressed so closely to the door that you think you might fall through it. Your boyfriend had told you not to listen, that the results might hurt you. But it was impossible for you not to eavesdrop, especially when two of the most important people in your life were talking.

Chan sighed, “Seungcheol I’ve been dating Y/NN behind your back for a few months now.“

There was a very long pause in which you tried to press your ear even further through the wall.

When you finally heard someone it was your brother, “No. I’m sorry Channie but you’re not allowed to date Y/N.”

You backed away from door on the brink of tears. Not only did you have to hear that, but now you would have to suck it up so that Chan could come downstairs and break up with you. You started walking down the stairs when you heard Channie again and rushed to the door.

“I’m sorry Seungcheol, but I wasn’t asking for your permission. We both love Y/N but I’m also in love with her. I don’t even know if i could leave her if she asked me to so I know for sure that I will not leave her because you said so.”

Your heart fluttered as your brother tried to give his input, “Channie I-”

“No, Cheol, you know what? I only came to talk to you because this matters to Y/N and I care about her. If you cared about her too you would see how happy we can make each other.

“Channie, are you done?” Seungcheol finally asked.

“Yes, you can go ahead now.”

You could help but let a happy squeak escape when your brother told Chan that he and you could date now that he knew that the younger would never hurt you. They boys pretended not to hear it so that Chan could watch you squirm as he (re)delivered the news to you.

469 notes · View notes

shsl-special-fx-artist · 7 years

Text

Defying Destiny; Chapter 1

So.. let's I've this a go! I wasn't sure about posting it but.. what the heck, lets see where this goes! I really really really hope you guys like it oh my gosh I'm so nervous about this;

This chapter is going to be relatively short, think Of it as more of an introductory piece. Chapters will get longer in the future!

If you guys are interested or want to know more, ask questions about it, leave comments, whatever you'd like- my ask box is always open! Feel free to fill it! ^^ Also tagging friendos @blindbae and @mini-moogle-queen because fanfic/OC friendship.

Chapter; 1

Word Count; 1435

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Enjoy! ~ ~ ~

"My Dearest Kelly, I woke up this morning with great bliss of freedom and joy in my heart upon thinking of the months to come; I’m saved, you’re saved, we’re all saved. Everything has been evermore rapturous since our fingers first entwined — I only feel somber that perhaps you were left just as worried when we said goodbye those months ago — I wish I could have that over to say goodbye to you happier, to say farewell without the worries and doubts I had that dusty dusk when I left…

As the rain pours relentlessly by my bedside now, all I can seem to think about is the the ever glowing light of your eyes, the enveloping warmth of your gentle embrace. Even as the storm clouds pass, I won't be able to see such true sunshine until I can catch glimpse of your face once more. I know with how long I've been away, these letters may only seem a flimsy tether between our worlds. Be patient for me, time will tell just exactly how I feel for you, and when I see you again- only then will I be whole once more.

My business in Lestallum will be concluded soon, I promise. I'll be meeting with the male representative of a foreign trade line in the evening in three weeks time. He wants to meet at a quaint little place downtown that reminds me of you. It is said their Elegant Orange Cake is legendary, perhaps your baking could prove them wrong? Yours always was a favorite of mine. I should rest now; I'm sorry this will be my last letter to you before I can see you again. Even if I was able to, with traveling so quickly surely any others would risk getting lost. What will never be lost, however, is my feelings for you. The worst of our separation is over; let us be strong until I can return to you. It will all be worth it upon my return, this I promise to you.

Until we speak again,

Eward"

"Wow, that Casanova of yours sure knows his way with words doesn't he?" A familiar voice, sweet as honey and dipped in a Southern twang asked beside a girl holding a letter, freshly opened and written in a strong-scented ink. The bustle of the small diner the two resided in had slowed to a quiet murmur as the day faded to evening.

"I suppose he does, he certainly has me living from letter to letter. " the girl's voice spoke up. Hers was softer, quieter, a bit lower pitched and lacking such a distinct accent as someone like Cindy. "Sometimes it feels like he'll never come back.."

"Awww, Chin up, Angel." The sunny bumpkin had leaned over the girl's shoulder, giving her an affectionate squeeze. "Like he said, the worst of the waitin' is over. He'll be home in less than a month, just in time for you to be home from the Prince's weddin'." The girl closed her eyes and shook her head, though her lips turned upwards in a small, amused smile.

"I'll never understand why you came up with that nickname in the first place, Cindy."

"Well, if that super light blonde hair or pale as heck skin of yours didn't sell me, I'm sure most of us 'round here would agree that your healin' magic of yours seems to justify it enough. If it weren't for you, Paw-Paw might still have trouble walking on that leg today."

She remembered that moment clearly. While she had been visiting last summer, Cindy and Paw-Paw had been working on some old tank of a jeep together. The jack, on old, rusty looking one underneath the car on his side had finally given out and down the car went onto his leg. She was able to immediately treat the worst of the damage, and made sure to leave a good dose of elixirs and potions to help with the remaining fracture.

"It was the least I could do, you guys have always taken care of me when I'm out here." Cindy nodded, though something else seemed to cross her mind as she paused for a moment.

“Speaking of healin’ though, how's your dad..?"

She too, hesitated a moment, before giving a slight shrug of her shoulders, seafoam eyes tilted downward.

"He's alright, just…very busy as usual. I worry about him though. He practically lives at the King's side now, monitoring his.. "condition". As the Head of the Medical Household.. that's his duty. The remaining members of the Household, including me can't deny that my father has definitely helped slow the progression.. but he certainly isn't healthy enough to fight if another war is upon us.. I don't know who I worry about more, my own father or His Majesty, King Regis.”

Cindy could see the concern etching into her face, and shifted, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Come on now Kelly, I'm sure neither of them would want you stressin' over them. Besides, it's only your job to check up on Noctis. They'd want you celebratin' with everybody else at his and Luna's weddin.' Speakin' of that, I pulled a few strings and getchya that ride you were lookin' for out that way. A friend of mine is doin' some deliveries out in Galdin Quay, said he wouldn't mind takin' you along for the ride."

The pale girl beside her seemed shocked for a moment, before she exhaled in relief. "Thank you Cindy, I seriously owe you one."

“Aww, don't worry 'bout it. Just give the happy couple my regards. Oh! And make sure to take some cute photos for me at the weddin'! Though I think Prompto should be there, so he'll probably have that covered."

"Prompto.. that's Noctis's best friend, right?"

"Yeah! I'm surprised the two of you haven't met yet. He's a sweetie that one, he's like a little puppy. Y'know, I'd almost consider pairin' the two of you up if you weren't already taken."

The girl's cheeks burned a dusty scarlet. "Cute may work for you, not really sure if it's suitable to me though.."

"Well, you don't have to worry 'bout it anyways.. with that Casanova you got there, sending you those letters and all." The young woman felt her mechanic friend's hand on her shoulder, which she put her own on top and patted gently.

“Still.. thank you for thinking of me." She glanced outwards at the darkening horizon, knowing she should probably get some rest before continuing her journey the next day. "I guess I'd better go rest up. You should do the same Cindy, you've been pulling all nighters the last two days.." The girl stood and wrapped her arms around herself before dipping her head in a slight bow, signaling a goodbye.

"Alright, alright Mama. I'll be sure to do that tonight, promise." As the girl turned to leave though, she couldn't help but pick up on her chuckle.

"Cindy? Think of something funny?"

The mechanic shook her head and giggled once more, resting her gloved hand upon her hip.

"Nah, just thinkin' about what you said. I think you're right on that one, cute certainly isn't your type. You need someone a little more.."

The girl raised her eyebrows. "..Desperate? Asinine?"

Now it was Cindy's turn to roll her eyes.

"So young and yet so cynical. I was just thinkin’ someone a little more.. hmm, what's a good word..? Someone a little more.. mature. "

"Is that a code phrase for you thinking I should date older men?"

"Aw Gods no, that's not what I meant. Geez Kelly, I just meant that.. you know, you spend all your days takin' care of others. Might be nice to have someone that can take care of you for a change, you know?"

She stood unsurely, shifting her weight.

“I see what you mean. Though I’d argue that the key is to really not have to have anybody take care of me, at least that's how it's been for the longest time."

Cindy couldn't help but stifle a chuckle, shaking her head. "That's what I figured. Alright, I've kept you long enough- you'd best be heading off to bed, Miss Independent. You gotta long trip ahead of ya."

The girl chuckled. “Right. I'm off, Goodnight, Cindy. Sleep well.” and tipped her head slightly as she smiled, turning around once more he walk out the door.

"Oh, and Kelly?"

"Hm?"

"Make sure to give the Prince and the rest of the boys a big hug for me. "

“I'll be sure to, I promise.”

#final fantasy xv #final fantasy oc #kelfina hayward #final fantasy xv oc #defying destiny #kelfina

22 notes · View notes

graveyardbirds · 7 years

Text

Forsakers

(Construction workers demolishing skyscrapers in a future Kuala Lumpur ruined by climate change are pitted against a deadly enemy and each other.)

Publication history: “Forsakers: in HEAT: A Southeast Asian Anthology by Fixi Novo (2016)   Forsakers

Under Kuala Lumpur’s zinc alloy sky, Serik had a captive audience in birds and men. Three falcons perched on a rusty overhead I-beam watched him in the afternoon heat – while the foreman and other demolition workers laid watch on him watching the falcons.

“Better than World Cup!” Omar proclaimed as he took bets from the group gathered on the opposite rooftop. He collected the cigarettes and meal vouchers and stuffed them into his hip-pouch. The grand prize was a carton of Marlboro Lights.

Omar still operated out of a habit left over from working the golf and race courses in Doha and Dubai. He had been a caddy and a camel rider, until androids and drones replaced him. Sensing the men’s scrutiny, the falcons squawked and flapped their wings every few seconds. Most were female birds, captured and trained for their bigger talons. If they attack the men, they go for the eyes.

Appraising the situation, Serik raised his gloved fist and yelled, “Hoy!” The falcons scattered and dispersed through the wide spaces in the scaffolding. But it was not the sound of Serik’s voice that startled them. The foreman took off his visors and pointed to a larger bird circling in the warm updrafts rising from the concrete.

Kantubit, a two-year- old female golden eagle trained by Serik, swooped down and intercepted a falcon in mid-flight before returning to Serik. She deposited the now lifeless falcon at his feet and landed on his outstretched forearm. Serik looped the leash over her neck. He had cleared the falcons for the day. Now scared away, there was no need to send Kantubit after the others. Omar sighed as he noted the outcome in his crumpled exercise book: none of the men had bet on the killing of one falcon. The team was now free to enter the gutted office tower block and continue stripping it.

“Ignore the bodies,” the foreman always instructed them, but it was unnecessary. In order to do their jobs, the workers had gone numb inside. Some of the newer team members vomited over the ledge at the sight of the victims: other demolition workers.

“Damned hawks,” the foreman spat.

“Not hawks,” Serik corrected the foreman. “The small bird is falcon. Shumkar-”

“All I need to know is how many of them and where they are,” he cut Serik off, before barking orders to the crew via megaphone.

“Show’s over. Cepatlah! You guys think you’re on Discovery Channel?”

The Indonesian crew had nicknamed the foreman ‘Tuan Badak’. As Serik watched him walk off the demolition site, he thought, More like a bulldozer than an old rhinoceros.

After evening prayers, Omar recalled camel racing in Dubai, while Kuala Lumpur lay in darkness below and the workers sat on the roof of the office tower.

“Whoosh!” Omar supplied his own sound effects, as he acted out a camel race, pumping his arms to mimic the remotely controlled plastic whips attached to robot jockeys’ motors. Serik scanned the dark sky for Kantubit.  Back home, Serik’s golden eagle hunted with him for three years before he released her. After a successful hunt, he brought the wolf or fox to his grandmother, where she prepared the pelt. He took the anklets and jesses off the eagle’s feet and poured a bowl of milk in front of her as a sign of gratitude.

“You’re special. Saving our lives everyday. Respect, my brother!” Omar slapped Serik’s shoulder. Serik felt that anyone who owed Omar money and a packet of cigarettes was his ‘brother’.

“I am just berkutchi, a hunter.” Serik turned his eyes up to the stars. Orion winked at the city through the wispy haze. He suddenly craved shubat, although he had disliked the sour fermented camel’s milk as a child. Meat roasting in a nearby oil drum stirred up longings for manti dumplings filled with ground lamb.

Omar emptied a packet of oral re-hydration salts into his water flask and said, “We need a little ‘special’ sometimes or we all go crazy at work. Just like Erxat.”

Serik frowned at the memory and held out his hand for a cigarette. Omar slipped Serik two, but he always tucked the extra stick back into Omar’s pouch. It was their little routine.  #

When Serik was a boy, his elder brother fell off his horse and gored his head. The wound swelled up like a goat’s infected bladder by the time the red-cheeked shayki, a wandering shaman, entered their yurta. As the shayki performed tsat-tsah incantations, his mother clutched her hands over her chest, knelt and lowered her forehead to the parched grass and prayed to Tengri, the sky god. Three nights passed until he opened his eyes.

Serik never asked his mother what she prayed for in exchange for his brother’s life. She died when the Shining Dust blew from the ashes of Lake Balkhash, and rotted her lungs and what remained of the family’s herds. His brother survived for two more summers working in Nepal. He took a bus and crossed the border into Mongolia. On Zaisan Hill overlooking Ulaanbaatar, a tent city gang stabbed him for his stash of yarchagumba, the rare and highly prized cordyceps fungus.

His mother had made a trade with the spirits, exchanging Serik’s fortune for an extra two years of his brother’s life. Broken early, the rest of his brother’s time on Earth was like a limb not set right, and finally amputated on Zaisan Hill. Serik remembered him being more useless than a hunting dog – too lazy to holler foxes and wild cats from their hiding places, while Serik beat and threw stones to drive out prey.

Serik seized the opportunity to work in Malaysia. New fracking and mining money had built most of the newer cities in Kazakhstan, but those agencies in Astana only hired young men. Yet destruction was as important as construction; the agency told Serik that older men were more suited for demolition work.

When Serik and Erxat, a 33-year-old from Almaty, arrived at the rundown Kuala Lumpur International Airport terminal a guide shunted them into a waiting van. Through the grilled windows, Serik watched the highways transmute into abandoned office towers and sprawling malls. Sentimental nostalgia on behalf of the real estate moguls delayed the tearing down of some buildings in Kuala Lumpur.

Before he left, Serik promised his fiancée, Guli, that he would be home in time to celebrate Nowruz. That was six months ago. His passport was still with the agent in Kuala Lumpur, who promised the workers new digital ones from their respective embassies when they paid off travel expenses and other debts. That was also six months ago.

Erxat had fared worse than Serik. A clerical error caused the agency to mistakenly list him as deceased. When he finally went home a year later, his wife had screamed at him, outside what was to have been their yurta, “Why didn’t you stay dead? I don’t have to give back our compensation payment!”

Erxat returned to Kuala Lumpur, but his work slipped. The explosives team found him high on heroin under a bridge near Masjid Jamek. In hospital, Serik observed that Erxat had more stab marks than his brother. He asked Erxat if he had resolved matters with his wife; he shrugged and tried to give Serik his dented wedding ring. Within a week, Omar and two Bangladeshis found Erxat at the base of an electrical pylon, not picked clean like other animals. As if the shumkar were contemptuous of easy prey.

“Erxat is free,” Serik said to Omar on the office roof by way of consolation, but it was not quite true. Erxat had obtained release. It was not the same as freedom, but better than nothing.

The heat was never good for work. All morning, men labored up and down the fire escape, hacking away at remaining doors and plaster walls with fire axes. Other men wielded oxyacetylene torches to cut through steel braces on each story, as a precursor to using other wrecking equipment.

On the lookout for more falcons, Serik remained on the roof. Kantubit spread her black primary feathers and dug her talons into the thick glove on his forearm.

“Patience,” he chided her. The falcons didn’t attack in the late afternoon, preferring to strike at dusk.

Silence enveloped the remaining steel and glass high-rises around the office tower. Shamans always said everything was alive. Serik wondered if buildings had their own spirits. If people died during demolition, were their ghosts added to the myriad?

Serik’s childhood memories resurfaced sometimes, as hunts and treks across the Kazakh Steppe at sunrise.

“Humans keep trying to fly higher than their Creator,” Grandfather used to observe every time he saw distant orange flares of space shuttles being launched from sites on the horizon.

“It’s progress,” Serik’s father would shrug. “Not when they start changing the weather. These recent late winters are bad for our herds.” For Serik, to recall what it was like in the past was pointless. He had only looked to the future, but progress was not development. Humans also tried out-creating their Creator. These shumkar were not falcons but demons created in the name of ‘progress’.

Around the world, cities with large pigeon populations began using falcons for pest control. Kuala Lumpur had been no different, until rich urbanites and the upper-middle class started taking up falconry for sport. Smuggling into Malaysia began when the demand for wild birds increased; they were deemed better hunters than those raised in captivity. Serik had heard of the black market in Kazakhstan, but could never believe it: smuggling eggs in ice boxes or tranquilized birds of prey over the border to Xinjiang, China.

Stress destroyed their immune systems, made the birds vulnerable to opportunistic pathogens. For the smuggled raptors, one was a certain fungus called aspergillus fumigatus, attacking the bird’s defenses and spreading throughout the respiratory system. One strain of the fungus mutated, not only infecting the shumkars’ lungs but also their brains and behavior, making them more aggressive.

During a day off, he and Nilam, a Bangladeshi engineering graduate from Dhaka, were exploring an abandoned bungalow in the Bangsar suburb, in the hope of salvaging remnants of the previous occupants’ lives. Serik found stacks of brochures extolling vacation getaways and eco-refuges off the coast of Terengganu. He kept one brochure because it had photos of Malaysian white-bellied sea eagles nesting in one of these places.

“Listen,” said Nilam, and both men heard flapping and piteous cries coming from the basement. They found a golden eagle chained to a perch in the darkened room. Her feet had been bound with plastic cable ties that cut into her feet, and the toes were swollen with infection. When Serik felt her flight muscles, they were soft. There was no telling how long she had been in her prison.

Serik wrapped the eagle in a tarpaulin cloth and took her back to the accommodation. Tuan Badak exploded with rage when Serik took the eagle into his office the next day but it did not matter. Serik told him of his skills as a berkutchi back in Kazakhstan and of a new plan for clearing condemned buildings of shumkar. Tuan Badak listened. The constant loss of workers looked bad on his track record.

Kantubit took off from Serik’s arm, soaring up into the twilight. Given her condition, Serik would have to release her soon. For her age she should not be ill, but something didn’t sound right in her lungs. Serik feared her ordeal had permanently weakened her, despite his painstaking care and nursing.

A large, matte black dragonfly hovered at the sixth and seventh levels, darting low before ascending high. Serik and Omar heard Tuan Badak laugh for the first time since they met him.

“Tuan Badak has a new toy,” remarked Nilam over the walkie-talkie.

“Copy,” replied Serik with disdain. An eagle could outmaneuver any drone because its brain made continuous adjustments in flight and speed.

“Serik! See me in my office after work!” Tuan Badak’s voice nearly broke the walkie-talkie loudspeaker. “Copy,” sighed Serik.

In the laboring air-conditioning of Tuan Badak’s office, Serik decided that if he was a shumkar, he would attack the foreman the same way as the other falcons: anchor talons to the shoulders and peck out his oily eyes, while simultaneously shitting in the mouth to add insult to injury.

“Your eagle – get rid of it,” said Tuan Badak, leaning back in his worn, neoprene-cushioned chair.

“But you said…?”

“That was then, this is now. More drones will be coming tomorrow.”

Serik kept quiet, trying to think of a reply to this new information. Tuan Badak mistook it for obstinacy.

“Get rid of your eagle now. Or find another job.” The screen door slammed shut as Serik strode out.

After lunch break, Omar glimpsed Serik as he disappeared into the office tower lobby, running past workers stepping off a bus.

“I know what Boss Badak said to you!”  “You can’t help me!” Serik replied, waiting for the lift to take him to the rooftop.

“There’s always a way.” said Omar.

“You’re right,” Serik nodded as both of them got into the lift, “I must let her go now.”

A message alert pinged in Omar’s pocket. He took out his phone and read the SMS from Nilam.

“Brother, don’t go up to the roof. Please.” Omar’s voice wavered.

Serik heard gunshots as the lift opened. As if Tengri was splitting the sky in half.

Serik scrambled on to the roof, searching for Kantubit. He saw eagle feathers – brown, white and black – scattered on the cement floor. Nilam was taking cover behind an exhaust vent.

“Tuan Badak now gone amok!” Nilam muttered as he shielded his face from the sun and possible incoming bullets. When Nilam saw the rage in Serik’s eyes he realized that fury was not necessarily explosive; it can be endothermic and drain the heat from the surroundings.

The foreman was on the roof, reloading a pump-action shotgun.  “Hoy!” cried Serik, clenching his fists.

The foreman spun around and did not lower the gun. “I told you to get rid of the eagle! I always hate it when my men don’t listen!”

Serik approached him, hoping that a worker’s serious injury or even death on the job would get Tuan Badak arrested. No such effect: a bullet missed Serik and ricocheted off the exhaust vent.

Kantubit’s body lay on the ledge. Her leash was still around her neck and the white secondary feathers of her wings were soaked with blood. Serik scooped her up and cradled her under his arm.

“Get off my site!” roared Tuan Badak in disgust.

Serik took hold of Kantubit’s leash and swung her body at the foreman. In death, she was still majestic as her wings spread out to full breadth. Tuan Badak’s face turned pale as he backed away from Serik. He tugged again and aimed the eagle like a sling. The foreman screamed as Kantubit’s legs jerked forward and her talons scratched his face.

Omar and Nilam did not see Tuan Badak fall off the roof, but they heard his long scream, distorted and getting fainter as he neared the ground below. Both men heard a final muffled thump and a metallic clanking as the body landed on a pile of steel pipes and cables.

All work on the site ceased. Serik stood on the ledge and Nilam yanked him back.

“Don’t let them see you!”

Omar tried to release Serik’s white-knuckled grip on Kantubit’s leash, but the fingers refused to budge.

“Leave now,” advised Omar.

Nilam shoved Serik towards the fire escape door on the roof. Omar reached into his hip-pouch and took out a packet of cigarettes, oral rehydration salts, and a wad of notes. He handed the items to Serik and said, “This is my ‘special’ for you, brother. Now go!”  # Running down the stairs, Serik wrapped Kantubit in his jacket. Descending floor after floor, he suddenly remembered the brochure with photos of the place of the white-bellied sea eagles.

According to the information on its pages, Terengganu was only a short bus journey out of Kuala Lumpur. With any luck, he would get to bury Kantubit at sea and find some sanctuary before trying to return home.

Sanctuary was not freedom, but for Kantubit, Serik was willing to find a sense of belonging.

0 notes