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rottinghouseplants · 9 months

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Made For Mercy: Chapter 3: Part 1: I See Red

(warning: this story contains sensitive topics)

I pushed my pounding head against the palm of my hand as I sat upright in the bed next to Darling, my feet wrapped around their legs. I glanced at them out of the corner of my eye, they were just smiling at me, watching my every move, like a wounded animal, hoping for mercy. The sight of them was absolutely devastating; the deep purple bruises that lined their body, their bloodied face and torn clothes. The smell of iron and fear hung heavy in the air, and I could feel my heart breaking. "Darling, what happened? I've never seen this many bruises. I don't even know how you're able to walk." They laughed, clutching their ribs, and coughing with every exhale.

"It's not so bad. Just a little sore." They clutched their head slightly, closing their eyes for a moment, blood still dripping out of the open wounds on their face. "I'm a lot tougher than I look." They coughed violently and rested themselves back against the wall of my bedroom. I could feel the rage boiling up inside me, and tears streaming down my face. It was so hard to look at them, not because my feelings had changed, but because of the incomprehensible amount of pain they were in. It looked like special effects, something out of a horror movie.

"You look like you got hit by a car. I think we should get you to the emergency room, please." Darling's eyes widened, their gaze darting across the room as if they were desperately searching for an escape. They shook their head vehemently, avoiding my gaze suddenly. Their hands were fidgeting nervously in front of them, their body language screaming out their fear and anxiety.

I can't," they pleaded, their voice trembling with emotion. "It'll be okay. It's probably just sore like I said. I probably just need rest." They glanced at me with a desperate look in their eyes, pleading with me. "I don't want to go to the emergency room, please. Please, Nyx."

I could feel the rage like a white-hot inferno, searing through my veins and threatening to consume me. "What if something is really wrong?" My eyes narrowed to tiny slits, the icy chill of my anger reflecting in their depths. "You could die. What the fuck am I supposed to do?" I let the tears stream down my cheeks, the sheer despair of those words enough to break me. I crumpled into myself. Weeping softly into my knees, only looking up when I felt their hand wrap around mine with a weak grasp. When I looked up, a soft crooked grin, with a busted lower lip, met my gaze.

"I definitely don't need to go to the hospital. I'll be okay." They intertwined their fingers through mine, "I just need to rest. I appreciate you helping me, Nyx."

"Do you need anything? Are you hungry?" I whispered, my voice completely cracked from the relentless crying. I gracelessly slid my feet out from underneath their legs, and hastily turned to slither off the bed. They reluctantly shook their head and opened their eyes, heavy-lidded with exhaustion, to look at me.

"Wow, you let me lay in your bed and you want to cook for me? On the second date? How'd I get so lucky?" They coughed out a broken laugh, "I think I must have hit the jackpot." I narrowed my eyes and huffed, utterly frustrated.

"I'm serious!" I shot back, my hands clenched into fists on my hips. "And I'd hardly call this a second date, this is a traumatic event." Darling smiled weakly, a twinkle of mischief in their one less-swollen eye, and gave me a knowing wink.

"I know, and I'm sorry. I just wanted to try to make you smile. I'd love some food, but it's not necessary. I might try to wash my face and get some of this blood off before I try to rest." They sat up in the bed slowly, holding one hand against their ribs as if they were trying to shield their wounds. "I have a killer headache, I think maybe some cold water would do me good." I took a deep breath at their sincere plea, and my bubbling anger cooled, turning into a deep sadness.

"I think that's a good idea. I'll make us some soup. The bathroom is across the hall, let me know if you need anything." I turned to make my way towards the kitchen, turning back for a moment in the doorway to look back at them. They struggled to stand, their body shaking with exhaustion, and put a weak hand up to the back of their head as if trying to will away the pain. Tears welled in their eyes and I could see the pain etched in their face. I felt a deep sorrow in my heart as I walked towards the kitchen.

I listened intently as I feverishly chopped the vegetables for the soup on the kitchen counter. Pixel curled up in a tight ball on the adjacent countertop, blissfully asleep, oblivious to the chaos unfolding around him. The soft purring of the cat melded with the running water of the bathroom sink, almost creating a calming effect, like ASMR. I watched the soup boil on the stove, taking a drag of my menthol cigarette while I waited for it to finish. As I extinguished the last ember of the cigarette, a loud clattering echoed throughout my small one bedroom apartment. What the hell was that? I quickly flipped off the stove and threw the butt into the trash can, sprinting to the bathroom. I opened the door with a sense of dread and saw Darling collapsed on the cold, hard tile. No, no, no. My heart sank as I rushed to their side, fear and hopelessness washing over me.

This couldn't be happening. I wasn't going to lose them like this, not like this. The panic had surged through my veins and my body felt frozen. I had to save them, I had to do something. But what? Everything I knew about first aid and safety had completely escaped me; sheer terror had taken hold. People say that in a dire situation, most don't know how they would react, and I was living that truth. When it mattered the most, all I could do was stand there, transfixed in shock. MOVE. DO SOMETHING. For the love of God, DO SOMETHING. Please.

I felt the terror flush through my veins as I sprinted through the bathroom, skidding across the icy tiles and dropping to my knees beside them. I tenderly cradled their head in my arms, pressing my face to theirs, desperately searching for any sign of life - a breath, a heartbeat, anything.

Tears streamed down my face as I cradled their frail body in my arms, the faint sound of breathing barely escaping through what I could only assume were broken ribs. "Wake up, Darling. Jesus Christ, please wake up!" I choked on the bitter words, anger and sorrow wrapping themselves around each syllable. Their hair draped loosely over their swollen, bruised face, the blood had been wiped away but the wounds still remained. The tap still running in the background. "I told you this could happen, I wanted you to go the hospital. Why didn't you listen? What are you so afraid of?" I pleaded, begged for answers from their still, unresponsive form. My heart was heavy with despair and my mind raced with questions, a million thoughts all vying to be heard. I wanted to scream, rage against the injustice of it all, but all I could do was hold them close. I leaned back, pulling them gently onto my lap, still supporting their head in my arms.

The tears streamed down my cheeks, searing my skin with their sulfuric burn as they cascaded down onto the ground. I could no longer contain the sobs that were desperately clawing their way out of my chest. What do I do? I had never been in this situation before, and a fear like I had never known before took ahold of me. "Oh god, I have to call an ambulance," but the thought of leaving them was too much to bear. The fear and doubt twisted and coiled inside of me, creating an oppressive sense of emptiness. Everything had happened so quickly, and this disastrous ending was unfolding before me.

Suddenly, a strained, painful cough full of blood erupted from Darling's chest. Their eyes shooting open violently, sending them straight up out of my arms. I watched in shock as they coughed up small puddles of blood onto my bathroom floor. Desperately, clutching at their chest.

"Darling?" I whispered, my voice barely audible after sobbing. "You have to go to the hospital. I literally thought you were going to die." They turned back towards me, looking at my through their severe black eyes, tears forming and pooling on their waterline. They sat back, clutching their knees to their chest and covering their face in shame.

"I'm so sorry. I can't go there. I need to ask you one more favor, there's only one place you can take me..." They sobbed quietly into their hands, their jaw clenched as they ground their teeth together. "I need you to take me Uptown, to the Feng Building."

I felt my mouth drop open in disbelief and a wave of annoyance wash over me. "You want me to take you to, Victor Feng, the politician?" I turned my head, perplexed by the situation and wounded by the feeling that I was being disregarded. What was I going through all of this for?

"I understand that it doesn't make sense right now, and it may never, because honestly, I wouldn't want to see me after this either. But, I need you to take me there. They are the only people who can help me." They gazed at me, their eyes imploring me with an earnestness that left me shaken to my core. I stood up, and walked out of the bathroom without a word. I walked into the bedroom and began to get dressed, slipping my jacket back on and stepping into my jeans. I returned to the bathroom with a spare coat in hand, handing it gently to Darling as they still sit on the floor. They looked up at me, and nodded. "I promise, that if I see you again, I will explain all of this. I don't care what the consequences are, anymore. I want you to know." I nodded with a sternness and pulled them from the ground, helping them get back into their clothes.

We were silent in the cab ride, I caught several suspicious glances through the rearview mirror from the driver at Darling's aggressively bruised face, but no words were exchanged. A light snow had begun to fall over the city, and as we walked up to the Feng high rise building, it bit at my face, burning the tip of my nose and my cheeks.

The doorman seemed to recognize Darling, and waved us towards the elevator, as we entered the private living quarters, we were greeted by a small fragile framed woman, with almost a doll like figure. Her voice was sharp and icy, slicing through the air like a blade. "Darling, what is this? What happened?" she barked, her cold dark eyes demanding answers.

Darling's knees began to buckle, as he struggled to stay standing. I watched as the woman opened her mouth to say something, but a tall, cold looking man with slicked back jet black hair and an air of superiority walked into the room. His presence filled the room with an oppressive energy. "I got jumped in the Art District, Lily," Darling whimpered, their voice tight with pain. "I need a doctor." The man that entered the room grit his teeth and growled under his breath before slamming a balled fist against the concrete wall.

His eyes narrowed with a ferocious intensity, a blaze of anger burning in his gaze. "Goddammit. They think they can take out one of my best. Lily!" The man roared, the sound reverberating off the walls, his voice echoing through the large penthouse. The small woman before him flinched, her posture stiffening in fear. "Call Dr. Yai! Get her here asap!" he commanded, his tone unforgiving. He swept Darling's crumbling body up in his arms and rushed up the steps on the far side of the room, then paused, turning back to me. His voice was low, yet filled with rage. "And you! Don't go anywhere, I need to talk to you!" He then continued up the stairs, tending to Darling.

I sat down on the large modern couch in front of me, knowing it was probably more expensive than my entire apartment. I stared out of the large windows that lined the wall behind me. The sun had begun to set, painting the sky with hues of orange and magenta, while the city skyline slowly sunk below. I could feel the tension in the air, the palpable fear and anger that had been stirred up in the room. I watched with a strange intensity, as a statuesque young woman in a spotless white lab coat flew through the doors, with a man in light blue scrubs trailing closely behind her. They spoke to Lily in a hurried, yet gentle manner before ascending the stairs. Lily's pacing back and forth across the living room seemed to go on forever, a frenzied blur of emotions and anticipation. The air around me seemed to have frozen in place, and I felt my heart thumping against my chest as I witnessed the unfolding scene. It was as if the entire world had shifted into fast forward, and I was being carried along in a dreamlike state. Was it the overwhelming nerves finally getting to me, or was I slowly slipping into a dissociative state?

Dr. Yai looked down at Darling upon entering the room with her surgical nurse, Brady. "Goddammit, Darling. What did you get yourself into this time?" Frustration and fear laced through her words, she knew that injuries this severe could be fatal if they couldn't access the root of the problems soon enough. The acrid scent of antiseptic and blood filled the room, pushing away the sterile atmosphere. She watched the nurse, hooking up the multiple chords and tubes to the patient. She sighed deeply, inspecting their deep wounds around the face, she could see even without a deeper examination that Darling has obviously suffered a pretty severe nasal fracture, as well as some micro fractures around their right eye socket. Probably some broken ribs based on the bruising and labored breathing, she prayed silently that their lung wasn't punctured by one of the loose bone fragments. She lifted Darling's head gently, inspecting the back of their skull for any damage. The cold, clammy feel of their skin against her fingertips made her heart ache, she knew they were in serious trouble. She gently set their head back down and looked up at Brady, sadness and concern radiating from her face, her attempt at a collected demeanor failed. This was not good, they needed to move fast and they needed to be extremely careful if they wanted Darling to pull through.

"I think we are dealing with a possible cerebral hemorrhage. Along with possibly multiple fractures in the rib cage. This is going to be difficult with the limited resources, but we have to try." Dr. Yai pulled her surgical tray towards the bed where Darling laid unconscious. Brady pulled his gloves onto his hands, checking the vital signs monitor, nervously. Suddenly, the heart monitor began to pick up pace, beeping frantically. His eyes shot up towards Dr. Yai.

"We have a spike, doctor!" He immediately rushed into action, "We have to move!" Fear and urgency made his voice crack, he knew time was of the essence. Dr. Yai nodded, her knuckles turning white as she clenched the edge of the surgical tray. She had to keep her emotions in check, she was the only one who could make sure Darling would pull through.

#sims 4 story #sims story #creative writing #madeformercy #simblr #sims 4 #ts4 #long post #ts4 stories #ts4 storytelling

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morefandomscenarios · 2 years

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OP Characters and Video Games

A/N: Wow this got so long I am so sorry lol

Will turn off the console and pay attention to you when you ask them to stop playing.

Sanji, Brook, Killer, Law, Marco, Rocinante

Will sit you on their lap and resume playing their games when you ask them to stop playing.

Zoro, Franky, Kid (only if he's in a good mood), Shanks

Will load a multiplayer game and hand you the second controller when you ask them to stop playing.

Luffy, Usopp, Robin, Ace, Sabo

Will ignore you when you ask them to stop playing, is totally focused on the game.

Nami, Kid, Roger

Is very pissed off and doesn't speak to you for a whole week when you unplug the console's cable.

Nami, Kid, Sabo

Sighs in defeat and apologizes for neglecting you when you unplug the console's cable.

Ace, Killer, Law, Roger

Rages and throws a chair, break some lamps, shatters a monitor screen or two, flings the game CD out the window, maybe breaks an arm.

Kid

Rages and slices the controller into pieces.

Zoro

Rages and lights the console on fire.

Ace, Sabo

Malds but does it in a fairly 'calm' way - should probably record it and turn it into ASMR video.

Robin, Law, Shanks

Is very seiso calm even when playing rage-inducing games; probably finishes I Am Bread, Getting Over It, and Pogostuck, with no sweat.

Killer, Marco

The type that buys newly released games as soon as they come out.

Luffy, Ace, Roger

The type that waits patiently for reviews and patches to go out before buying a game.

Sabo, Law

The type that casually walks into a game store whenever they pass by and buy some games they find interesting.

Brook, Kid, Killer

Religiously follows a publisher and buys every single game they release, probably has a few favorite directors or writers.

Usopp, Franky, Sabo, Law

A completionist and is proud of it.

Usopp, Franky, Ace, Sabo, Kid

Trophies? Achievements? Platinum? What are those?

Luffy, Robin

Steals your card to buy games because they're little gremlins.

Ace, Sabo, Kid

Has their own budget to buy games like a responsible human being.

Law, Marco, Killer

Is a god at Beat Saber.

Zoro (ever seen someone play with 3 controllers before? Now you have)

Is a god at DDR.

Nami

Is a god at Valorant.

Ace

Played 500 hours of Stardew Valley, tried out all the farm houses, married all villagers at least once, and completed all achievements.

Nami, Robin (played multiplayer with Franky)

Invested 500 hours in Animal Crossing; has remodeled their island over ten times, has all the rare islanders residing on their island, has a beautiful scenic island with an equally beautiful house.

Law (sssh it's a secret)

Cries while playing Undertale because pacifist route's ending is just too good.

Franky, Ace, Kid (will deny it whenever you bring it up), Killer, Rocinante, Roger

Cries while playing Undertale because they keep dying on genocide route (you know what I'm talking about).

Ace, Rocinante, Roger

Plays Deltarune chapters as soon as they're out.

Luffy, Franky, Ace, Kid

Bides their time and plans to binge-play Deltarune once all the chapters are out.

Law, Killer, Sabo

Has played every Pokemon game that ever existed.

Luffy

Has played every Final Fantasy game that ever existed.

Usopp

Has played every Tales game that ever existed.

Roger (sometimes drags Rayleigh to play co-op with him)

Perfect partner in Keep Talking and Nobody Explodes; explains calmly as the instructor and keeps their head cool as the bomb dismantler.

Robin, Law, Marco

Worst partner in Keep Talking and Nobody Explodes; has their own unique (aka incomprehensible) ways of describing symbols/puzzles and/or panics/rages every five seconds.

Luffy, Ace, Kid, Rocinante, Roger

Finds loopholes and inconsistencies, not afraid to talk shit about Ace Attorney's plots.

Law, Sabo

Has played all Ace Attorney games and is amazed upon seeing the protagonist walking around the courtroom in The Great Ace Attorney - "LOOK BABE HE'S WALKING AROUND!!!!!!!" Bonus: he starts using the "Pray forgive the discourtesy..." phrase before going feral now

Sabo

Is enamored by the Ace Attorney series and is now playing Ghost Trick; they're determined to play all of the games where Shu Takumi is involved.

Sabo

Accidentally played all Persona games and thinks they're dope, moved on to Megami Tensei games, and oh shit please help, now they're trapped and is throwing money at Atlus???

Koby

Played the DS version of TWEWY and hates the new version in Switch; refuses to play Neo TWEWY.

Kid

Lady Dimitrescu? W-who's that? *frantically tries to hide a life-sized body pillow on their bed*

Ace

Is secretly one of the famous RPers in GTA V NoPixel even though they don't stream their content.

Brook (has a lot of characters with varying personalities, from cops to crims to EMS to musicians to business owners), Robin (popular because of her voice and the way she casually drops dark humor while chuckling in her speeches)

"I might be too old for this whole video gaming thing - but that ain't gonna stop me from mingling with the youths!"

Roger, Shanks, Rocinante (forces himself to learn because he wants to play with Law), Oden, Kizaru

"I'm too old for this video gaming thing."

Rayleigh, Kaido, Doflamingo, Crocodile, Akainu, Aokiji

#one piece #compilation #headcanon

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priortoallthoughts · 3 years

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Don’t Mess With the Commander’s Caf

(or do, because it’s gotten you this far)

Rating: T

Word Count: 3.6k

Pairing: Commander Fox x afab!reader

Warnings: Mild swearing; gets a bit spicy at the end but nothing explicit.

Summary: What is supposed to be a night out at 79s turns into a night in the drunk tank, and the morning starts a startling new relationship with a certain Coruscant Guard Commander. All over a cup of caf.

// [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

Masterlist

A night out in Coruscant is never complete for you without going to the clone bar, 79s. You may pre-game somewhere else, but you always end up there, recognizable as one of their regulars. You love the atmosphere, honestly. It’s so jovial, just vode – and weren’t you surprised when you found out that clones spoke a different language with each other – coming to forget the war for a night. Living life as much as they could. You’ve picked up a few words of theirs purely because you hear them so often. Many a curse word too, which are your favorites.

And they were about to be put to good use.

You’re already buzzed and walking with a group of grey-clad troopers that had pulled you into their group when they saw you walking alone. You chat easily with them even though you never met them before. That’s the funny thing about being sociable when you’re sober – you’re even more chatty when you drink. And giggly apparently, considering you couldn’t stop laughing at the mission gone wonky they were telling you about.

When 79s came into view your smile widens. There really is nothing like the neon lights and bass you can already hear resonating from inside. Were there probably millions of places just like in on Coruscant already? Sure. But there isn’t anywhere aside from 79s you could find this kind of ambiance.

There is one downside that pisses you off like no other though.

There’s yelling coming from over by the speeder-way and when you look over, another civilian is getting in the face of a Coruscant guard member. The frown the graces your face feels wrong after laughing so much, but you can’t help it. You pause in your tracks. Usually when you see this kinda shit it deescalates fairly quickly, but this civilian is getting louder and more violent the more the (admittedly nervous acting) guard tried to calm him down.

“Hey.” A hand lands on your shoulder and you look up to see one of your group. “We can’t do anything. The punishment would be too harsh and that civvie chakaar won’t even get a slap on the wrist.”

Your frown turns into a snarl. “You can’t do anything.”

Fishing your flask out of your jacket pocket you take a swig before shoving it into the chest of the closest trooper. The steady click of your heels is the only thing you can hear over the growing volume of yelling.

“Hey! Shabuir in the stupid shirt!” Your own yell interrupts.

You have exactly one second to reconsider things before you think about all the vitriol this jackass is spewing at the guard for nothing. The sound of your fist hitting his face is the most satisfying thing you’ve heard tonight, along with the yelp he lets out when he hits the ground.

“What the kriff is your problem, bitch?!”

“You talking shit about this trooper is my problem!”

He turns towards the guard again and the trooper flinches. “I want her arrested for battery!”

You lean down to grab his collar and shake him out. “Oh, so now you want him to do his job? The one you were just belittling him for? Can’t have it both ways, chakaar!”

“Let go of me!”

You drop him so suddenly that his head cracks against the ground. He scrambles to his feet and points a finger at you. “You’ll regret this! They’re nothing but meat-droids!”

“Say that again, you little pissant. I dare you.” You go to take a step forward but he’s already running away. A hand on your shoulder again makes you look over to the one you defended.

“I’m sorry, ma’am.” And he does sound sorry. “I will have to take you in tonight. I… can’t ignore you attacking someone right in front of me.”

You smile at him. “No problem, trooper. Do your job; I don’t want you getting in trouble.” You offer your wrists to him and next thing you know they’re in a pair of binders behind your back and you’re being placed in the back of a speeder.

“A night in the drunk tank should sort you out.”

The smile you give him is blinding, because not only do you know that’s not the proper booking for what you just did, at least you look cute while you’re being taken away.

---

When you wake up in your cell (lucky you’re the only one there) you’re beyond tired and in desperate need of some caf. You can’t function without it in the morning.

There’s a guard member who lets you out not long after you get up. You follow him like a zombie. Presumably he’s leading you out of all the twisting hallways, but you stop short when your nose picks up the distinct smell of caf.

But not just any caf. You know the smell of Death Wish anywhere.

Your favorite.

You follow your nose to a mess hall – sparsely populated but still enough that everyone stops what they’re doing to look at you as you make your way to the caf machines in the back. You’re basically falling asleep as you walk so you don’t notice. Maybe you should care, considering you’re still wearing your clubbing outfit from last night, but no, you don’t actually care.

When you get there you see two different machines. One is labeled with some cheap, generic caf name and the other is simply “Fox’s Starfighter Fuel.”

You grab a flimsi cup and fill it with the second one. No cream. No sugar.

No life, only caf.

You finally notice how deathly quite it is as you take your first sip and turn around. There’s one trooper standing in front of you, helmet tucked under his arm, and the most severe look you’ve ever seen before gracing his features. You look him over with half-lidded eyes, noticing he’s dressed differently than the others, and casually take another sip of caf.

“You must be Fox.”

“Civilians aren’t allowed in this part of the building, who let you in here?”

Still waiting for the caf to kick in, you shrug. “Spent the night in the tank. No one stopped me when I walked in.”

Fox turns to glare at everyone sitting at the tables. They all look down at their food like they weren’t obviously watching and someone starts whistling.

“You need to leave,” he says when he turns back around.

“Can I finish my caf first?” You ask, taking more sips hoping to stall.

He glowers even more. “That’s not even your caf!”

“Shame.” You chug the rest of the still mostly full cup and coughs wrack your chest when you finish. “I think I just burned my esophagus,” you rasp.

“Get out.”

“That’s completely fair.”

You toss your cup in the trash on the way out. Turning the way you were going before you got distracted, you make your way to the exit; no need to bring the wrath of Fox down on you for sticking around. You feel like, once again, you get off light and dont’t want to press your luck. The smile that graces your face as you step outside is probably a strange thing for anyone else to see considering you’re walking out of jail, but you had a good night, and the morning is shaping up to follow suit.

---

The next day you walk into the caf shop you normally stop at on the way to work. The barista behind the counter waves as you walk up. “Your usual, hun?”

“You know me,” you smile brightly, “but, uh, can you make it two?”

Her eyes widen. “I can’t imagine the morning you’re expecting to have!”

You laugh and wave her off. “Nothing bad. I owe someone a cup.”

“You mean someone else drinks this sludge?”

“Imagine my surprise. And it’s not that bad!”

She places two large flimsi cups in front of you. Your hands rub together nervously before you get your thoughts together. “Can I borrow your marker?”

She hands it to you with a raised eyebrow and you quickly scribble a few words on one of the cups. It isn’t a lot, and it completely gives away who you are without having to sign your name, so you hope it’s okay.

“Thanks, gotta run!” You scurry out of the door before the barista can ask anything about what you’re doing.

You aren’t even sure yourself if you were being completely honest. The Coruscant Guard building is a little out of your way from your route to work, but you leave early in the mornings anyway, so you can still make it in time even with the detour. You feel a bit nervous walking in this time. Where did all your confidence from yesterday go?

You flag down the first trooper you see that doesn’t look busy.

“Can you give this to Fox, please?” You hold out the cup for him to take.

He doesn’t.

He only stands there, and you imagine he’s making a face behind his helmet because he doesn’t say anything either.

After a few seconds of silence you lower the cup awkwardly. “Uhh, oh, sorry, am I allowed to bring caf?”

“Why are you bringing the Commander caf?” He finally asks.

You squeeze the cups so much the tops almost pops off. “Fox is a commander?”

“Commander Fox is head of the Coruscant Guard, ma’am.”

The top of your own cup does pop off this time, but nothing spills.

“The entire guard?” You squeak.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Heat is quick to crawl up your face. “Oh stars, I can’t believe I took his caf.” Your internal panic is quickly becoming external as you try not to drop either cup. You hid your face behind one in embarrassment.

“Wait.” The guard member tilts his head. “You’re the one they were talking about yesterday? The girl from the mess hall?”

There’s a few second where nothing but incomprehensible noises come out of your mouth, but you finally get out, “how many people know about that?!”

“It’s made its way around.”

“I’m gonna - kriff - go throw myself off the senate building I swear-“

You’re cut off by the sound of a chuckle and you snap your head up to see the guard member’s shoulders shaking. “So you’re not trying to poison the Commander, huh?”

“No!” You yelp, but quiet down after you see others turn to look at you. “I was just trying to repay the caf I drank! We like the same kind!”

“That’s disgusting.”

“Can you please just give this to him before I die of embarrassment? You’re killing me here!”

He laughs again and finally takes the cup from your shaking hands. “Who should I say it’s from?”

You slap a hand over your face to hide your grimace. “At this point I’d rather not tell you. I want to keep some of my dignity intact,” you mutter.

“Nobody’s dignity is intact here, ma’am.”

“Oh… joy.”

“You best be on your way then.”

He is giving you an out and you’re taking it in full.

“Have a good day,” you say as you turn, the only proof you’ve been there being one guard member and a note on a flimsi cup.

“Sorry for taking your caf yesterday.”

---

One week later you find yourself standing outside of the caf shop, once again with two cups in hand through no fault of your own. It makes you think that maybe another trip to the Coruscant Guard building wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Why waste a perfectly good drink after all?

You pause immediately when you step through the door, because the man you’re looking for is standing across the room talking to someone with a datapad in hand. The decision on whether to interrupt is made for you when the person he’s talking to looks over and spots you.

He waves and Fox finally looks over as well, tilting his head as he does so. You take a deep breath before walking over to them.

“Caf girl!”

You raised your eyebrow at the other trooper. “I really am known around here for that, aren’t I?” You say as you stop in front of them. You have a sneaking suspicion that he is the same one you talked to last week.

“Well you never gave me your name,” he shrugs.

Yeah, it’s him.

Your head snaps to Fox, however, when he addresses you.

“You know my name?”

“Your information was processed and put into the system when you spent the night in the tank.”

“Osik,” you mutter.

“Did you need something?” He asks.

You perk up some, and hold out the second drink in your hand. “Right, there was a mixup at the caf shop, and I got an extra drink. I thought you might like it.”

He takes it carefully, but your bare fingers still brush against his gloved ones. They tingle when you pull away, and while the heat on your palm from holding the hot cup fades, the heat in your fingertips does not. You have the sudden urge to find out what holding his hand feels like, but you push that thought down along with the blush you can feel rising. Now isn’t the time. You have to get to work. Maybe if you come by earlier next time….. would there be a next time?

“Thank you. I… appreciate the thought.” You think you hear him trip over his words, but there’s no way.

You smile brightly at him. “You’re welcome!” You check the time on your chrono. “Looks like I gotta bounce. Enjoy your caf, Commander!”

Your retreat is quick, but hells if you don’t add a little extra sway to your hips as you walk out the doors.

And scribbled on the cup now in Fox’s hand is:

“I know day old caf when I taste it. Fresh is better.”

---

You start to bring Fox caf every week.

“This has become part of my routine, so I hope you don’t mind.”

Every week turns into every few days.

“Your filing system is horrifying but at least your chair is comfy.”

Every few days turns into every day.

“Tell Thorn that if he sees me at 79s tonight, he can’t arrest me just so I’ll hang out with him.”

And leaving early just to see Fox is the best part of your day no matter what. You hope you’re not the only one who feels like this. That maybe as you walk to the Guard building in the morning, you’re not the only one smiling and counting down the minutes until you get to Fox’s office. He never turns you away, and he’s always there to take the extra caf from your hands if he can be. Sometimes you have to leave it on his desk if he’s not in, but you understand that his job isn’t easy by any stretch of the word.

He is in this morning, however, seeing as the door opens promptly at your knock. He sits behind his desk, a few data pads already stacked next to him and a frown marring his face. That won’t do.

“Credit for your thoughts?” You say as you set his caf down next to his helmet and lean against his desk.

Fox looks up and gives you a tired smile, unaware of how it makes your stomach flutter. “Shaping up to be a long day.”

“Giving yourself more grey hairs already?” You say, giving a pointed look to his already greying sides.

“Like I need any more,” he huffs.

“I dunno,” you reach up and run your fingers lightly through his short curls, “I think they make you look distinguished.”

He lets out a breath you didn’t know he had been holding. “At least one of us thinks so.”

“It’s okay, I can like it enough for the both of us.”

“Should I count myself lucky then?” He smirks, finally taking a sip of his caf and sighing contently into the cup.

You give him a cheeky grin. “You should.”

He looks at you then, not saying anything, and you can’t help the flush you feel crawling up your face. You swear, you had never blushed so much around anyone before you met him. You distract yourself by drinking your own caf, the liquid welcome to your suddenly dry mouth.

“I do.”

“What?” Your head snaps back up to him and he’s still looking at you, but not in a way you’ve seen before.

“I do count myself lucky.”

You look away shyly, a small smile forming at the corners of your mouth. Sure, you two have been lightly flirting with each other, or at at least you’re definitely flirting with him, but this is the most straight-forward thing he’s ever said to you.

“It’s a good thing I got myself arrested that night then, isn’t it?”

It’s uncharted territory, where this conversation is heading. The thought of what it could be sits low in your belly and causes you to let out a shakey breath.

“It’s quite the holovid to watch,” he says offhandedly.

You’re lucky you aren’t drinking your caf, otherwise you would have spit it everywhere. You turn your head so hard you think you give yourself whiplash, mouth agape, looking at him in wide-eyed mortification.

“There’s a holo of that?!” The pitch of your voice would be embarrassing if you weren’t in the middle of spontaneously combusting on the inside.

He nods empathetically, which is shit because you know for damn sure he’s not empathetic about it; he’s having too much fun with this. You know he is, with that stupid, heart-stopping smirk playing on his face.

“Our HUDs record each incident for our files to make sure everything matches up with the reports.”

“Nooooooooooooo,” you whine quietly into your hands that now cover your face. You hear him get up and move to stand in front of you, but you don’t react. Mainly because you have no idea what he’s doing, but also he’s so kriffing close you can barely handle it.

His pries your hands from your face and presses them to his desk, effectively caging you in. He’s even closer now, and you’re hyper aware of how hard your heart is pounding even though you stop breathing. It’s the last thing from threatening, but you’re still frozen.

He leans in so his mouth is right next to your ear. “You look good in that little red dress of yours,” he whispers, his voice octaves lower than before. “Especially when you’re beating the kark out of a civvie – standing up for my vod.” It sends a pleasurable shiver down your spine and straight to your ovaries.

You suck in a breath when he pulls away. This is much more than you could have expected. “You’re not giving me much incentive to not be arrested again,” you tilt your head, “now that I know you’d be watching.”

“Always watching you, cyare.”

You hum, pulling one hand away from his to run up his armor and trace lightly over his jaw. “Gonna have to try harder to get a pair of binders on me next time, then.”

“Would you run?”

“Only if you’re the one chasing me.”

You move your hand from his jaw to the back of his neck and scratch lightly, feeling more than seeing him shiver under your fingertips.

“I’d find you.”

“Oh, I’d be counting on it, Commander.”

It’s a mutual surge that leads you two to lean in, culminating in the most charged kiss you’ve ever received. You throw your other hand around his neck, holding him as close as you can, while his hands latch onto your hips, pulling you up and into his embrace. He leads you back until he’s sitting in his chair and the next thing you know you’re falling into his lap to straddle him. You break for air, and to process that yes, this is happening, before you’re kissing again. A little slower; a little deeper.

You moan quietly into his mouth, and his hands move to your ass so he can pull you even closer.

There’s a chime from your chrono and you pull away, panting.

Fox’s eyes are dark and hungry when he looks at you. “You have to go soon.”

You nod, not breaking eye contact, and not moving either.

He grins, and it looks absolutely predatory. He slides the top of your blouse down slowly, just enough for his mouth to latch on to you right above your collarbone. You let out another breathy moan, and his teeth graze your skin in response as he sucks harder. His tongue soothes the area over when he lets go, and he looks at the quickly darkening spot with what you can only assume is possessive pride.

“For you to remember,” he says huskily.

Knowing he’s just staked his claim on you stokes the fire inside you even more. You give him your own feral grin, and pull down the collar of his blacks as he stiffens. “Who am I to allow you to forget, then?”

You suck hard at the column of his throat, higher than he did on you, knowing it would still be covered. You taste the sweat that had been building up, and his skin which you can’t even describe except that it tastes like him.

He groans lowly into your ear and you shiver when you pull away. You drag your nail lightly over the dark bruise in satisfaction before pulling his collar back up.

You slide off his armored thighs slowly. He follows you to stand, and gives you one last, long, kiss.

“Until next time, cyare.”

When you leave his office, you wish you had written something more on his cup than a crudely drawn fox with a smiley face next to it. Tomorrow though, you wonder what you can get away with saying.

“Next time I’m wearing that little red dress, feel free to search me. Who knows what I could be hiding.”

#prior writes #star wars #swtcw #clone wars #the clone wars #commander fox #cc 1010 #commander fox x reader #commander fox x you #afab!reader #coruscant guard #writing #fanfic

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butchba1t · 3 years

Note

Ok so. I'm a ~complete stranger~. I've never seen your blog before, never interacted before, we probably run in completely different circles here on Tungle dot heck. I just happened to see your most recent post about the pronouns when I decided to check out the hurt/comfort tag before bed (idk why it showed up there? It just did). So honestly, feel free to completely disregard this message, especially if you just wanted to vent and don't want any advice.

But! But. The thing is, I saw your post, and like. I've Been There.

I've been in a super similar situation. I questioned my gender and my pronouns for a super heckin long time, all thru high school and beyond, and I didn't come out as non-binary to my Very Not Cis group of friends for the longest time because of all the doubts. I kept thinking, well, I can't REALLY be non-binary, because *insert many many many many MANY different doubts and justifications here*.

I just wanna share a few things that I wish I knew years ago, and I hope they help.

(Forgive me if I repeat myself or am slightly incoherent, it's late and I'm very sleepy.)

1. You are not faking. There are no "qualifications" to being non-binary. You don't need to check off a certain number of things off a checklist in order to be considered "really" non-binary. Your gender is up to you, and you alone, and if anyone tries to tell you that you don't "count" because you don't experience *insert thing*, then screw them (and not in a fun way). They don't dictate your identity or your life.

2. You Do Not Need To Have All The Answers. You don't need to have every little aspect of your identity nailed down and sequestered into a neat little box that will stay the same forever! You don't have to have a Final Answer, life isn't an essay question that has to be submitted by a certain date! You don't have to pick something and commit to it forever. You don't need to make any sort of Final Decision on what your gender is. You don't even need a definite answer to the question "what is your gender identity", you can just shrug and go "wouldn't you like to know, weather boy >:3" and leave it at that!

Half the time I describe my gender as "girl in the same way a square is a rectangle, non-binary in the way that pink is light red" (yes I stole that from a tiktok audio, why do you ask?)! And that's fine!

3. I'll let you in on a secret: you can change your gender and pronouns as many times as you want!!! You can use they/them today, she/her tomorrow. You can use they/them for 20 Heckin Years, then decide one day that you wanna use neo-pronouns! Or you wanna use she/her! Doing so does not invalidate the time you spent using they/them, and doesn't mean you were "faking".

Gender is fluid and weird and wibbly-wobbly. Sometimes it's vaguely incomprehensible. Sometimes everything clicks and makes perfect sense. Sometimes it stays the same over a life time, and sometimes it changes slowly over a lifetime, and sometimes, for some people, it changes day to day.

It's okay to be scared and uncertain. You have a whole lifetime to figure yourself out, and a whole lifetime of things to learn and experience. You don't have to nail down everything right now, and you're allowed to change pronouns as many times as you want.

You said your friend used gender neutral language for you, and it made you happy! That's great!!! Go ahead and keep using gender neutral terms! Maybe you'll change your mind later, maybe you won't, and it doesn't matter which one it ends up being!

What matters is what makes you happy, and what helps you feel most comfortable and content in day to day life.

Again, I'm sorry to pop out of nowhere like this into your inbox and leave a huge essay, but I just. Your post really hit me somewhere personal and close, and I wanted to share all the things I wish I knew 3 years ago.

I hope you find what makes you happy, and I wish you a wonderful, wonderful life. Goodnight, sweet dreams in whatever time one you're in, and best of luck on your journey through life.

Thank you so much. This was a really important message for me that you sent at the perfect time. Every now and then I come and read it again and I think it’s time for me to share this with other people who might need to read this as well and I hope it helps them too.

#thank you so much really #I’m still in the process of accepting myself and my identity #but really this was huge #they/she #genderfluid #nonbinary #enby #lgbt #gender identity #trans #nblnb

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give-grian-rights · 4 years

Text

CHAPTER TWO HOUR. CHAPTER TWO HOUR. I AM SO TIRED. IT IS 6AM. TELL ME IF HTERE’S TYPOS AND THAT NORMAL STUFF

Bets Against The Void, Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

Whitelist au from @petrichormeraki

Crossposted on AO3

Tubbo quietly chuckled, smiling fondly as their friend squawked indignantly. “Tubbo! I’m serious, explain some shit, fuckin’ nerd!” Tommy scoffed, prodding at their side with his elbow. Tubbo hushed him, their smirk still lingering.

“Hermitcraft is a super crazy popular server. If you’ve ever searched for examples of builds on your tablet, chances are, they’re from one of the Hermits. Or if you looked up something about redstone! Anything! You’ll find one of their instructions. They’re geniuses- just, complete geniuses. Grian’s one of them-”

“Grian’s one of them!?” Tommy exclaimed, his eyes shooting open. Tubbo’s grin widened, nodding vigorously. “Yes! He’s the newest Hermit, last I heard.. Most of the guys he’s teammates with every MCC, they’re usually other Hermits!” They’d continue explaining to the best of their ability.

“Should’ve fuckin’ started with the fact that Grian’s here! That fuckin’ dude! He killed Dream three times! Three times, Tubbo!” The blond continued with his excited shouting. Well, that certainly fixed the situation, Tubbo mused.

The brunett nodded along, chuckling. “Yeah! He, and most of the others, really- post all that much right now. The new World Client, with the axolotls and caves ‘n stuff? They’ve started posting and sharing discoveries about that. I know Grian did, at least. But considering they call themselves the ‘Hermits’ it makes sense to be a bit inactive, yeah?” Tubbo shrugged, tapping the chilly cool sandstone beneath them.

Tommy nodded dumbly, glancing around the room for a moment. Tubbo, meanwhile, had pulled their tablet up. The holographic comm system was displayed infront of them, everything on the screen they touched being read aloud to them.

Launching an accessibility app, the tablet began describing aloud the block palette, dimensions, and colors. As the tablet’s robotic voice played in his com system, reading aloud the details of his surrounding, Tubbo nodded along to an incoherent rant from Tommy.

Tubbo wasn’t too sure what Tommy was ranting about- likely MCC, and Grian. Grian got a kill on Tommy, last MCC, if they remember correctly. The brunnett wouldn’t be surprised if that was the target of the blond’s current tangent. Tommy hadn’t even been able to get a word out, when Grian began shouting vigorous apologises between matches.

The descriptions from the tablet were long, and boring. The robotic voice drawing on and on, as it attempted to describe the intricate room. Shutting down the program, Tubbo tuned back into Tommy.

“Fuckin’ am..So fucking tired. Of course we ended up here. It’d be to easy if we’d just be let back into Dream SMP, huh? Think Dream even knew we were out? I bet not. Even if he does, probably didn’t even care, fuckin’ dick. Bet that green asshole’s just sitting over his code and shit, simping over Gogy-” The blond ranted heatedly. The blind teen could hear the shifting and chustling of fabric, before the boy’s voice became muffled.

With his head pressed against his knees, legs drawn to his chest, Tommy sat there practically panting. His chest heaved, the rage draining from him. “Why is all- all of this, always so complicated, Tubbo?” Blue eyes turned to meet the scarred, burnt front of the other.

Tubbo picked at faded and torn tennis shoes, tentatively listening. The rymnatic pattern of the boy’s breathing, and the crashing overhead, offered some vague comfort. “All of what?” They’d tilt their head.

The younger of the two quietly sighed, his mouth pressed in a thin line. His hand clutched the bottom of his torn, tan cargo pants, fidgetting with the frayed ends. “Us. Shit with us, it always gets so fuckin’ complicated. Big Man, you’re president. You’re- you’re the fucking president, now, Tubbo.”

The bunnett’s brows furrowed together, as they inched closer to their friend. “Yeah. But it’s- it’s still us, y’know? If- if life was easy, then we’d be missing out on a lot of things. What if we had just never met-”

“We’d always meet eachother, Tubbo. There’s no fuckin’ getting rid of me, even in your fantasy world.” The blond nudged the teen’s shoulder, a wolfish grin evident in his tone.

That made the other crack a smile, shaking their head. “I hope so, Tommy.” They’d chuckle, shaking their head. The weight of the day came crashing down all again. Before the rushing thoughts could boggle down their mind, Tubbo slumped against Tommy’s side sigh an exhausted sigh.

“This is just, livin’ the fucking life, huh?” Tommy remarked, looking over his friend. The tall boy already shifted himself, his long legs sprawled out on the floor with his back leaned against sandstone walls.

His head leaned against that of his compaignian, half-lidded blue eyes giving one last surveillance of the room. “We’ll figure this shit out tomorrow..” Tommy mumbled, glancing down at the brunette.

Tubbo was already asleep, their expression finally one of peace. Tommy wasn’t given a moment more to appreciate the serenity of the quiet room, before he’d be pulled into slumber as well.

Both of the teens were stirred awake by the whirring noises of an active portal- the Netherportal beside them, with particles flying, gaveway to two players. Tommy kicked himself up to his feet, defensively. Tubbo stumbled along with him, pulling back away from the strangers.

Though two stepped out, only one immediately caught Tommy’s eyes.

“W- Holy shit! You’re Grian!” Tommy squawked indignantly.

Tubbo’s head immediately shot up, excitably breaking into a grin. Any exhaustion the two held was wiped away- neither was sure how long their unrestful sleep had been, but it was far more than other nights.

The target of the excitement, Grian, sheepishly stood there, nodding. “Uh, yeah! You guys are Tommy and Tubbo, yeah? I’ve seen you at most of the MCC’s I’ve been to. You both did really good last time, by the way! I’m really looking forward to the next one!”

This was easily the closest they probably ever were to the dirty blond. He also looked far more at ease, on this server. The iconic figure, ever-present in the community, had his wild mop of a fringe frazzled and framing his face.

Poking under the bangs, Tommy could now see faint, ragged lines from a scar, along with other various healed-over wounds. Another contrary to how either of them had seen Grian, at MCC, was the large circular glasses loosely sat on his face.

Seeing one of his heroes like this (The only one that hadn’t betrayed, killed him, turned against him, despised him-) in such a..Domestic state, was bizarre. Tommy was scrambling for words, starting and giving up on getting his tongue around what to say.

“This is so cool! Hi! I used to watch and- and listen, to a lot of your old build tutorials! A lot of people on our server would always say how we learned building from you!” Tubbo would blurt out, practically bouncing on their heel. Grian turned to the teen, slightly shocked but amused.

“Oh! I- well thank you! I’m glad I could be any help at all- my builds are nothing compared to some of what the other Hermits have going on..Speaking of others- this is Stress!” He’d take the opportunity to escape the small spotlight, glancing towards the brunette woman next to him sheepishly.

The woman- Stress, apparently, quietly chuckled. A fond smile grazed her face, as she looked over towards the two teenagers. “Ello there, Loves! Sorry to interrupt your fan meetup,” She teased, side-eyeing the dirty blond beside her. “We just wanted to come and check in, is all! X told us two to come visit, yeah?”

Tommy quietly hummed skeptically, surveying her. Short brown hair hung barely as low as her shoulder, a neat, white, blue, and pink flower-crown sat upon her head. The colors must’ve been very purposeful, considering they matched with her colorful outfit of the same color.

“Fine, sure..Well, we’re still fuckin’ breathing, and we’re here. So you don’t really need to be here any longer, yeah?” Tommy scoffed, slumping back against the wall. Tubbo was already standing, nudging at his side.

“Thank you, for checking in. I- I’m sure this is a bit of a strange situation. That- Yeah, that’s my bad.” They chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of their neck. This caught Stress’ attention, turning towards the tene.

“Oh, no! This isn’t a problem at all. Dear, this happens all the time. Grian just- just appeared, one day, in our previous server. We walk out the portal for the first time- and boom! There that weirdo is!” Stress chuckled, her grin unwavering as she gave a playful nudge to the dirty blond beside her.

Grian scoffed, a smirk edging at his lips as he rolled his eyes. “Okay, but I’m not the only example of that happening- you didn’t have to pick me out specifically!”

“Sure I do, Love! You’re the first new Hermit to join, after me and Zed! I get to bully you, lovingly!” She cheered. Stress’ energy was absolutely efficacious, Tubbo couldn’t help but smile and cackle at her and Grian’s banter.

“Uh huh,” Grian scoffed, dramatically crossing his arms. “Last I checked, that was Iskall’s job to bully newcomers- oh, Gord, when you all walked out of the portal and they just decked me ? I mean, it didn’t really hurt all that bad, but it’s a matter of the principle!”

Stress seemed like she was almost gonna break down with laughter, clutching her stomach. “I forgot they did that with you, too! Iskall certainly is one that needs work with their introduction, that absolute weirdo!” She chostled, shaking her head fondly.

She then turned towards the two teens, reassuringly smiling. “They won’t give you any hard time, they’re just like that sometimes, especially in the beginning of a new season..They’re usually just incomprehensible in the beginning, I learnt!” She giggled, covering her mouth.

Tubbo awkwardly laughed, nodding. “Yeah- they, they sound like something.” It was..A strange environment, to be sure.

Sure, they knew of the Hermits, their reputation impossible to avoid- but most outsiders didn’t know much about the actual Hermits. They went by that title for a reason.

Tommy was having similar thoughts, he felt as if he was completely imposing on, everything. But he couldn’t find it in himself to care- it frankly was..Warming, almost, to see this. He missed being able to have that, on Dream’s server.

The blond in particular seemed to have tuned out, because by the time he snapped out of those thoughts, Grian was speaking again.

“We’re glad to see you’re both alright, but, I don’t think we’ve been exactly great hosts. You both have gotta be hungry- I know the last thing you two seem to want is help, but..We’d be happy to help you however we can. We can go get you fresh, real food. Or- you both come with us, and we take you to our central area, the Cowmercial district.”

Tommy stared blankly at Grian for a moment, brows knitted together in bewilderment. “The… Cow..merical district?” He’d repeat, squinting.

Grian snickered, nodding. “Yeah! The name just stuck. It’s our shopping district. We have a bakery- it’s never, ever too early for cake. There’s Doc’s shop, but that’s all villager-bought, if it’s the rare occasion that it’s stocked at all- so the Bakery may be the only option, for today.” He glanced back at Stress, who nodded in agreement.

“Only if you’d want to,” Stress would interject. “Either of us could come bring you food here- but, we figured you might want to just..Get out. You’re allowed to leave here whenever you want- but, navigating our server by yourself, for the first time? Not the easiest.”

The two teens glanced towards eachother. Tubbo looked like they were practically buzzing in place, at the idea of exploring the Hermits’ world. Tommy watched them for a moment, before quietly scoffing.

“..Yeah, okay, sure- how the hell do we even get out of here though, for starters?” Tommy crossed his arms, inching closer towards Tubbo. He, for one, was really not a fan of having to fly out.

Stress cheered excitably, pulling open her inventory. The woman promptly dropped a stack each to the two teens. “I came prepared, just in-case!” She grinned. With a swipe of her arm, the digital screen dissipated.

“If you know how to use elytras, X already said he’s more than happy to lend out two from the back-up system. I have some to spare, as well. But- you two never seemed the most comfortable in the air, during flight-based games.” Grian would add awkwardly, adjusting his own wings behind him.

Tommy didn’t pay much attention to the words- instead, he promptly threw open his inventory, gawking at the full stack of pearls. “What! I don’t think i’ve ever had this many pearls! Holy shit!” He pulled out the stack of sixteen.

One pearl manifested in his hand, while a holographic icon hovered beside him. The pixel-image of an enderpearl, with a large 15x in the corner in white font was projected for only his vision. The blond couldn’t remember a time he had so many enderpearls.

“Thank you! Wow- yeah, pearls aren’t really common in our server! This- this is really nice!” They felt giddy, as they pulled their’s out as well, the action muscle-memory.

“Well, I’m glad you two can put them to good-use, then!” She chuckled. The idle question of how can a server lack pearls skimming through her head for a moment.

Within seconds of her saying that, Tommy had already blindly tossed one of his pearls- promptly falling down from the ceiling, and landing on the floor with a short shriek. Tubbo straightened up from the sidelines, tilting their head.

“Tommy! What did you do?” Tubbo called out accusatorily, as they quickly popped their surrounding descriptor back on.

“Nothing!” Tommy quickly yelled back, lunging to their feet with a stumble as they dusted themselves off.

At the sidelines, Stress and Grian cackled, watching in lighthearted amusement. Tommy could feel his face flushed red with brief embarrassment, quickly attempting to play it off.

“Truer answer; I was being awesome. That was what, Tubbo. Are we eating or what? I want to throw pearls and go places. And eat, that too.” He quickly turned towards the two Hermits expectantly, narrowing his eyes at them.

Grian grinned, nodding. “Yes, yes we are! I have boats. Go ahead and pop up with your pearls, and we’ll fly out to you.” He explained briefly, pulling the boats from his inventory. The thin, digitized object manifesting in his hand.

Tommy turned expectantly to Tubbo. “You got this, Toob?” He tilted his head, watching his friend. Tubbo had immediately nodded vigoriously, running over towards the center of the room, the ceiling above open to the water.

“Yeah! I’ve got this, Big Man! No sweat!” They gave a toothy grin, shifting the enderpearl in their hand. Arching their arm back, the teen cautiously stepped back.

Their communicator had continued reading off the details of the room into their thin earpiece, primarily the dimensions. All they had to do was hit the wall leading up to the surface to get out. They could do that, surely.

With a huff of effort, they chucked the pearl. They heard it break through the under-surface of the water, and then they were submerged. Breaching the surface, they gasped for a moment. The ocean rippled, clothes heavy and soaked. They were certainly glad they had been in their casual clothes, rather than their presidential outfit.

Within a moment, Tommy was up beside them, quietly gasping as well. The blond pushed his hair back, lightly nudging Tubbo away from the gaping hole in the water beneath them- and then Grian and Stress flew out.

The sound from the rockets were deafened from beneath the ocean, thankfully. Only a thin trail of smoke followed them, the sight certainly unfamiliar to the fireworks the two teens had been accustomed to.

Both Hermits had dived straight into the shallow water with a splash, before the dirty-blond dropped down two boats.

“I want to drive! Tommy, i’m driving us!” Tubbo cried out, at the sound of the wood hitting the water. Beside them, Tommy scoffed.

“Tubbo! I’m not gettin’ motion sickness! We just woke up, no way. Your idea of ‘driving’ is no one elses, my friend.” He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he pulled himself into the boat. Beside him, Tubbo whined.

“C’mon, man! Nothing like a bit of motion-sickness to get the day started!” They playfully remarked. Despite that, they had already accepted their defeat, pulling up into the boat.

Stress and Grian watched the teens carefully, with Stress laughing lightheartedly at the banter between them as she pulled herself into the boat, behind Grian.

Grian, on the otherhand, was mostly quiet. A thin wisp of a smile was present, conveying one of bemusement. Tommy didn’t get a good look, but, he couldn’t quite pinpoint the look from Grian. He didn’t like it.

“Alright,” The older Brit at hand started. “We’re real close. No one should be at Looky Looky At My Cookie- and it should be early enough that there aren’t any real occupants at the Cowmerical District.” He explained, turning the boat as he got a small start ahead of the teens.

“Sure, then! That sounds g- wait, what’s that name?”

“C’mon, then!” Grian wouldn't answer Tubbo’s valid question, before boating off. Tommy quickly following behind, shouting indignantly after them.

It certainly was odd. It felt..Comforting, here. Certainly not relaxing. The opposite of cf relaxing- Tubbo had nothing but the craving to do something. But it was..Welcoming. It was strange. They hadn’t felt so- so unbothered, since..Ever, really. They liked it.

Tubbo wondered if it could stay this way.

Tommy wondered what the hell they were about to get themselves into.

#bets against the void fic #whitelist au #mika-posts #mcyt fic #mcyt au #dream smp au #hermitcraft au #hermitcraft fic #dream smp fic

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misterewrites · 3 years

Text

Secret Agent Bard (Welcome to the Underground!)

Hello everyone! E here with a new chapter of the underground! Woo! I hope you are all doing good and staying safe.

So I actually have more to say today! That's a trip. I’ll have an author’s note under the line.

So that's it for now. Stay safe, take care of you and your loved ones, stay out of trouble, wash your hands, wear your mask, get vaccinated if you can and push to release the vaccine world wide cuz we're all in this together. Have a great week and thanks for reading. I appreciate it and feel free to tell your friends, reblog, drop likes and feedback i love it all. Bye for now and enjoy!

If you want an easier place to read the story cuz tumblr sucks sometimes here’s a link to the chapter https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814297/chapters/79541746

The First Chapter: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814297/chapters/68094967

and since you made it this far here’s a link to all my stories!

https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrE42/pseuds/MrE42

Byeeeeee!

Author’s note: Today’s work will be a little different as there will be singing. The chapter with the bard is gonna have singing? Go figure haha So if you see a sentence in Italics, that means someone is singing. Bold and italics represents various people singing as a group. The song in question is called twiddles. There's different versions of it but the one I chose is from the misbehavin maidens. Great group but all their work ranges from innuendos to straight up not safe for work so listen at your peril. I have now completed my responsible adult duties haha. here’s a link to the chosen song https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iS1-_fKF5ug

Summary: Oliver has quite the task ahead of him as the group splits to achieve their goals. Leading Sel and Flora, the young bard will have to think quick on his feet to ensure this mission is a success. Luckily he's an old hand at this. Ironically the one person who could distract him may make a surprise appearance tonight.

-----

Oliver stood quietly, arms crossed and his mind thoughtful as the group prepared to go their separate ways. While ideally nothing would go wrong, that was a childish belief: Every person and robotic being here knew safety was not guaranteed in their line of work.

Even the old man knew the risks.

Oliver hated doing nothing. He thrived when he was busy, focused on whatever task required his attention whether it be being a better bard or upholding the Choir’s values. Too many ghosts and regrets lingered on the edges of his mind and he found the best solution was to simply keep occupied.

But that was his coping mechanism, not everyone else. He knew better than to rush his team: The party would last at least another few hours and beside the goal of getting Sel to the third floor, there was nothing else to do. No information to gather, nothing to review. Let them have their moment, it was good for morale.

Terri and Flora were sickeningly adorable: Hands clasped tightly with Terri tearfully asking her girlfriend to not poison everyone. Flora gave a halfhearted promise while as they shared a tender kiss. Terri noticed her less than enthused tone but refused to press the matter further.

Tyrell stood awkwardly to the side, his face twisted in a strange mixture of sick and excited. He fidgeted with something in his pocket, seeking comfort from whatever lay within. Given the shape of the bulge and size, Oliver guessed it was a knife.

Sel stood nearby, motionless in the shadows of the alley. They hadn’t moved in some time though he suspected the automaton was simply waiting for the next phase of the plan.

“Alright” Oliver spoke up, his voice firm yet gentle “Times up. You have your assignments?”

Uneven murmuring responded.

“Let’s go.”

Oliver, Sel and Flora went down one end of the alley, Terri and Tyrell disappearing in the opposite direction.

-----

It didn’t take long for the trio to find the main streets of the Merchant Ward and make their way towards the Brambleoak banking office. The crowds weren’t as thick as they had been during the day but Oliver knew everyone out and about did so with a purpose.

“Bard.” Flora asked without warning, breaking the awkward silence “Question.”

“Answer.” Oliver cheekily replied.

Flora glared.

Oliver coughed “Yes?”

“You are a First Chair Soprano correct?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Yet you are so young. How did you manage that? I thought First Chair ranks were only reserved for experienced or particularly skilled members. You don’t seem to be very magically powerful.”

Oliver paused for a moment, trying to best answer the question.

In a way Flora was correct in her assessment: He wasn’t particularly powerful as a spellcasting bard. Unlike Flora who clearly committed herself fully to nature and thus druidic magic, Oliver had only recently thrown himself into the magical arts.

Unless you were a wizard who studied the secrets of the universe with a very intimate and well versed knowledge of magic, most spellcasters drew their power from sources of existence: Clerics from their gods, Druids from nature, Warlocks from something beyond mortal existence yet not quite a deity, sorcerers because a family member fucked around with pure incomprehensible concepts. Magic was the fabric of the universe and the more you threw yourself into a source of power, the more the source threw itself into you, guiding your hand and your spells.

Of course each, wizards exempt, were limited in their spellcasting options. Clerics were powerful holy/unholy practitioners but couldn’t command plant life to save their lives. Druids were in tune with nature and the weather and all the lovely flora and fauna but ask them to superimpose an image onto something and they’d give you a dumbfounded look. Warlocks kinda just do whatever their sugar patrons felt like lending.

Magic bards drew their power from the arts: Drawing, singing, poetry, even witty and funny satire. Bards were in tune with life, with existence. Art could heal, could hurt, could make you feel happy and sad. It could make you feel like a whole new person or perhaps take you to a time and place you’d forgotten. Bards sung the song of life and Oliver was no exception.

However, Oliver still wasn’t sure what he could do exactly. His magical muscle was average on a good day and he could only cast a few spells before needing a good night’s rest. The basic healing spells and comprehension language he cast earlier today had taken a good chunk of his energy but he relied more on his wit than raw magical strength. He discovered creative and useful ways to cast his spells like amplifying dissonance noises to distract and disorient foes or temporarily place another person’s image over himself. Magic was as much about creativity as it was skill, pushing the limits of what you can do with your particular brand of spells.

“I’m clever.” Oliver answered honestly “The whole magic of the arts is new to me but I’ve been in the Choir for a long time now. I used to be Tenor like Sel here but more fast talking than breaking and entering. I guess they carried over my old position into my new one.”

Flora nodded, satisfied “That answers much. How long have you been a bard?”

“Few years now.” Oliver checked the street sign to ensure they were on the right path “The magic part is going on 3 years.”

“I see.” Flora scratched her chin “I’ve been a druid my whole life so it is a strange concept to be so new to the spellcasting arts yet hold such a high rank.”

Oliver gave a casual shrug “Not sure what you want me to say. We’re here by the way.”

The bank looked as unkempt as Oliver had remembered: Faded, peeling green paint with gaudy gray stone pillars. Two guards in green uniforms stood in front of the massive reddish brown doors that led into the bank.

“Lea’s mercenaries.” Sel pointed out “They are not letting anyone in.”

“Correction.” Oliver brushed off nonexistent dirt from his washed-out outfit “They’re not letting nobodies in. Luckily tonight we’re somebodies. Follow my lead.”

Oliver let out a tense breathe before strolling forward, his mannerism cocky yet unsteady. He reached the top of the steps when two sharp looking blades reached out to stop him.

“Halt” The elvish woman spoke with a hint of irritation “You lost?”

“Not at all!” Oliver beamed with a smile that was too wide to be natural “I’m here for the party. There is a party inside no?”

“No” The human man spat out.

Oliver gave a forgetful grin “Oh? I could’ve sworn Brambleoak was having some sort of charity event tonight. I’d show you my invite but I think I misplaced it.”

The elvish woman sneered “Right. How convenient for you having lost your special one of a kind invite.”

“Pfft.” Oliver scoffed “Special one of a kind invite? Reiner hands them out like candy. Probably find one in a gutter nearby.”

The guards shared an unspoken understanding with one another.

“Well.” The human began “Let’s pretend that is true.”

“It is but go on.”

The human’s eyes narrowed “Why should we let you in? You dress rather poorly for someone claiming to be in Reiner’s usual circles.”

Oliver let out an exaggerated gasp as he puffed out his chest “Do you know who I am?”

“Umm no.”

Oliver growled unhappily, his fist clenched tightly within his pocket “I am rich! I AM POWERFUL! AND I DEMAND ACCESS!”

As quick as lightning, Oliver flung a handful of gold coins towards the pair. The two reeled back in surprised as the money clanked onto the smooth marble floor. A moment hardly passed before the guards were shoving the loose coins into their tunic pockets like hungry dogs. They straightened up, eyes alive with greed.

“Of course sir” The elvish woman bowed her head in apologize “Deeply sorry for that.”

“Please go ahead.”

Oliver gave a self satisfied nod before moving past the pair only to stop as he heard the sounds of swords scraping each other. He turned backwards to see the guards barring access to Flora and Sel.

Flora looked back and forth between the guards, her eyes calculating and cold. Sel stood still but clearly at the ready for any sort of trouble.

“They’re with me.”

The Elvish woman shook her head “We said we’d let you in. These two? Definitely not Reiner’s usual prey.”

“They aren’t” Oliver admitted “But I need them.”

The human turned to him, suspicion in his eyes “Why?”

“She…” Oliver pointed lazily towards Flora “Is my street doctor.”

“Street doctor? As in….?”

Oliver gave a cheery wink “The fun kind.” And for give measure, he added a weak shiver to his act “Ugggggh I feel cold, are you cold? It’s cold.”

Before anyone could say anything, Oliver began shaking. He rubbed his hands for ‘warmth’ while swaying back and forth.

“Uh oh.” Flora spoke dully, pushing past the guards and holding Oliver steady “He’s crashing. I need to give him his umm medicine.”

“Medicine?” Oliver repeated, his voice soft yet manic “Yes medicine. I need it. I NEED IT!”

Folks began to turn their way, the guards shifting uncomfortably under the sudden attention they were receiving.

“And this one?” The Elvish woman gestured to Sel.

Oliver began to rock back and forth, his voice a harsh whisper. “Guard. Guard. Guard guard guard guard.”

The human threw up his hands in defeat “Bah! Get him in there and fixed! Any trouble and I’ll personally come over to beat your asses.”

“Thank you sir.” Flora murmured through gritted teeth. She guided Oliver and Sel through the doors and into the party within.

Flora sighed as Sel cracked the tension out of their fingers. Oliver straightened up, wiping the sweat from his brow.

True to his expectations, the bank had been altered to be suitable for a charity event: Torches lined the walls, casting the building into a bright light. The desks normally found on the floor were gone as to allow a more spacious setting. Oliver counted a handful of guards scattered about, wandering about for any sign of trouble. All except for the lone guard beyond the empty elevated platform who stood in front of the stairway to the upper floors.

“What now?” Flora asked

“Split up. Sel stay close to the door, Flora and I will figure out a distraction.”

“Sounds good.”

And without another word, Oliver was swallowed whole into the crowd.

-----

It had taken an hour for Oliver to figure out what kind of distraction he would need.

The patrols themselves hadn’t been very difficult to plan for: They would move randomly about, keeping an eye on the party and each other. He counted about 6 of them total and each one of them was easily starstruck. At the sign of any disagreement, they would swarm in groups of three and quickly threaten any troublemakers into compliance. However, upon meeting anyone with even the smallest bit of fame, they would subtly motion to each other and make their way as one to the person in question, hoping for a glance or the chance for an autograph.

So the floor guards were no problem but the one standing watch over the door was much more difficult. Evidently Lea was smart enough to give the most important job to the most responsible of his idiots. The stairway guard or Stairy as Oliver labeled him, would not budge at the sign of any trouble. Loud arguments, agitated party goers, a waiter being tripped (sorry it was for science buddy). None of these would pull him from his post. Celebrities wouldn’t either. Any time his buddies motioned to a famous person, he would shrug his shoulders and stay put.

Oliver was beginning to wonder if Flora needed to poison Stairy until he noticed something about half way into his observations: Stairy was a music lover. Specifically a cute girl music lover.

His gaze would wander every time he caught sight of a pretty girl who happened to be too close to him. Oliver wasn’t sure at first so he decided to test his theory. With his pocket change lessened, Oliver noticed how often a girl would catch Stairy’s eye. His attention didn’t shift when they fell in front of him, obviously in distress, or walked slower allowing him to enjoy the view longer but Oliver caught him smiling and tapping his foot when the odd girl would sing. He even staggered away from his door a few steps at a time before catching himself and returning to his post.

So the best distraction would be a girl who could sing and have some level of fame attached to her name.

Oddly specific and Oliver hadn’t the slightest idea how he was going to mange that. He was attempting to solve this puzzle when something caught his ear.

“Get off me you mulched dirt licker!”

That rather unique set of cursing could only mean one thing: Flora.

Oliver turned to where he last spotted her and found the young druid being hassled by a tall man in an elegant uniform.

Oliver noticed the guards were looking about, not yet spotting the commutation but aware something was going on. He needed to act first if he wanted to stop Flora deciding to kill everyone in the room.

The bard quickly slipped into the crowd, darting and weaving between any and everyone he could. He saw Flora slip a small vial into her hand as the man towered over her.

“I jus wanna dance.” the man’s words slurred out of his mouth “A pretty thing like yo shou wanna dance”

Flora’s eyes narrowed angrily “For the last time you dried poop stain, LEAVE ME ALONE!”

Flora pulled back her hand, prepared to throw the mysterious vial at the drunk’s face.

“Whoa!” Oliver cried out, tightly grasping onto Flora’s wrist “What seems to be the problem?”

“Nothing I can’t solve on my own.” Flora coldly glanced towards the drunken man.

“One sec.”

Oliver eyed the man carefully, absorbing every little detail he could.

He could see the muscles strain against the fabric of his light green tunic so this man worked in something physically laborious. The sheathed sword on his belt weight seemed to throw him off balance with every step. His gaze was unsteady and Oliver could see his pupils dilating wildly.

So this man was physically fit, armed with a sword in a charity event for the rich people and wearing light green tunic while currently drunk.

“You should leave her alone” Oliver said, sarcasm dipping from each word “You are so not her type.”

“So?” The man hiccupped “What’s the big deal?”

“So she’s got a girlfriend you idiot.” Oliver gestured with his hand “Besides you should go before your boss Lea gets here. I’m betting he won’t be happy one of his undercover mercs is currently drunk on the job. Of course I could always tell your captain what’s going on. That’s him over there right?”

Oliver gestured to the closest guard making his way towards the trio. He didn’t look any different than any guards but Oliver noticed his green was a shade darker than the rest. Lea probably used different hues to signify rank in his mercenaries.

The drunk’s face paled as he fidgeted nervously. He rose his hands in surrender, eyes darting between the two “Sorry.”

“Any trouble?” The captain approached, his hand tightly held around the hilt of his blade.

Oliver beaned cheerfully, trying his best to pull attention away from the fuming Flora “Not at all my good sir. This man simply mistook us for someone else, correct?”

The drunk nodded slowly “My bad. Forgive my intrusion.”

The captain gave a cold smirk “Apologizes. Mikey?”

The drunk flinched “Yes sir?”

“A word in private. Now.”

Oliver let out a sigh of relief as the captain dragged Mikey away..

“You should’ve let me poison them.” Flora muttered darkly.

Oliver scratched the back of his neck tiredly “Night’s still young. Still might get your chance if I can’t figure a way past Stairy.”

Flora tilted her head quizzically “Stairy?”

“The asshole at the base of the stairs.” Oliver answered absentmindedly as he spotted a familiar streak of platinum blonde hair among the crowd of strangers “And I just figured it out. Can I trust you not to poison everyone here?”

“You have an hour. I get bored easily” Flora swirled the sickly purple liquid in the vial threateningly.

“You and me both.” Oliver patted her shoulder before chasing down his perfect distraction.

-----

Oliver’s heart began to thunder loudly in his ears, a nervous and uncontrollable energy overtaking his resolve. The mission was important but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t happy to see Maria today.

Maria Thoreau was the daughter of a powerful, influential family. The Thoreau’s were more concerned with their standing in high society than any virtuous endeavors and thus each one of their children was trained from birth to excel in their chosen field. Maria’s older brothers were an aspiring politician and merchant respectively.

Maria’s path was to be a well famous singer and patron of the arts. She wanted nothing more than to sing for the people. Unfortunately, her father only saw a chance to further the family’s good name and tied his desire for power with her passion and dream. It was bittersweet really but nothing much could be done about it.

Yet.

Maria knew Oliver as a musical rival who thwarted her group’s attempts at winning local competitions which in turned derailed her father’s plans. So needless to say she was less than thrilled when she caught him making his way over.

“Ollie” she forced a smile while her hazel eyes narrowed, peeved “I’m surprised to see they let you into this exclusive event.”

Oliver gave a cocky shrug “Well your beauty caught my attention and I couldn’t resist trying to figure out a way in.”

Maria’s cheeks burned a pinkish hue.

Maria was the same age as Oliver with short, tastefully cut dark brown hair. A single streak of platinum blonde hair hung off the side of her face, giving her such a cute look. Her clothes were practical tonight since she wasn’t performing: A simple white blouse with a long flowing dark blue skirt that went all the way down to her feet. Her shoes were sensible dark blue flats designed for comfort over style.

Maria coughed into her hand, willing her blush away.

“So.” She cleared her throat “Is this your sad attempt to throw me off my game? You won’t win the next competition. We’ll be dealing with professional judges this time.”

Oliver’s eyes widen in false surprise “There’s a competition here? Fancy that. I hadn’t been made aware of that but since we’re both in town, why not have a round two?”

“Oliver….”

“I mean” Oliver went on, pretending not have heard “You are a much better singer solo than with those harpies you’re forced to keep around.”

Maria glanced to the side timidly “Don’t be absurd, the Melodic Maidens are a perfect, well oiled machine.”

Oliver scoffed dismissively “I suppose they’re nearby, listening in. Hardly leave you alone, don’t they?”

Maria opened her mouth to respond when a shrilly voice cut in.

“What do you know you two bit hack? How much did you bribe the judges last time?!”

Oliver gave a strained smile as the rest of the ladies forced their way into view.

“Lilly, Filly, Sally. You suck.”

The triplets snarled in unison, openly glaring at the bard.

Lilly, Filly and Sally were Maria’s chains: They were as much there to further her career as they were to report back to daddy to ensure the errant daughter stayed on course.

As triplets, they all shared the same features: Three pairs of dull green eyes and long messy black hair. Even their clothing were the same with each wearing a strapless dress that showed way too much skin and skirts that were way too short. The only reason Oliver could tell them apart was due to their preferred colors: Lilly in a shade of pink that was bright for her skin tone, Filly with a pale ugly yellow and Sally in seas of dark red.

The trio surrounded Maria, their arms embracing her in an uncomfortable hug. Maria bit her lip, trying to hide her uneasy.

“Still wearing that tacky outfit huh Ollie?” Lilly eyed his faded clothing distastefully.

Sally let out an unfriendly laugh “Ollie always looks like trash. Not even prize money could buy an ounce of class.”

“Actually” Oliver brushed his shoulder dismissively “Class is cheap. No amount of money could buy an ounce of character. You can blow hot air at me all you want but nothing in this world could ever change the fact that the three of you are bitches.”

The trio clicked their tongues disappointingly, their normally plain faces twisted into unflattering visages of rage while they screamed as one.

“HOW DARE YOU INSULT US?!”

“YOU ARE SUCH A POOR TACTLESS MAN!”

“YOU FUCKER!”

Oliver casually waved his hand “All bark and no bite. I’m supposed believe you’ve gotten any better in two months? Last time I checked I won the last competition.”

“OH YEAH?!” The triplets yelled, furious.

Maria threw a suspicious glance Oliver’s way “Girls, I don’t think…”

“Come on Maria, we don’t want to have to tell daddy you backed down from a challenge.”

A shiver ran down her spine, the fight draining out of her face. Oliver felt a tinge of guilt but said nothing as the girls took their positions.

Maria paused for a moment, her breathing slow and calm. The murmur of the crowds grew louder and louder upon the recognition that the ladies nearby were the Melodic Maidens.

Maria pivoted on her heels, a bright warm smile gracing her lips. Oliver could feel his heart skip a beat at the sound of her soft, airy voice beginning to sing

“Oh you hear a lot of stories about the sailors and their sport” Maria gave a playful wink his way. His cheeks burned brightly at her playful banter.

“About how every sailor has a girl in every port”

Maria twirled, her steps mischievous and alluring as her dark blue dress chased after her. She gracefully held two fingers aloft for everything to see, her smirk cocky and assured.

“but if you added two and two you’d figure out right quick”

Maria backed up as the triplets step forward to join her, the group made whole and ready for the chorus.

“It’s just because the girls all have a lad on every ship”

Maria turned to throw a sultry look towards her rival bard but instead of finding a dumbstruck Oliver, she found a smiling one. His gaze was gentle and loving as if he was seeing utterly beautiful. A small smile was tugging at his cheeks. Maria could feel her heart thunder in her ears as, without warning, Oliver gave a thumbs up and mouthed an appreciative “Thanks” before ducking into the growing crowd.

“And it’s twiddley idle idle idle, twiddley idle aye.”

What was once a spattering of folks formed into a massive gathering. Most of the party goers and guards had come over to catch the free show the girls inadvertently given and thus all focus shifted onto them. What was an attempt to show up Oliver ended up being a very unnecessary showcase.

“It’s often times a man will leave you broken with dismay”

Boy was Maria feeling that dismay right now.

-----

Oliver’s plan worked: Stairy hadn’t been to resist the siren call of a beautiful woman and her singing. Luckily the harpies hadn’t ruined it with their imperfect pitches. Stairy hadn’t taken more than a few steps when Sel slipped in behind and began working at the door. It took a moment but one blink later and the automaton vanished out of sight.

Oliver let out a sigh when a hand gripped his shoulder tightly.

“Hello sir.” A guff, low voice in a less than friendly voice “Might I have a word? You’ve been acting rather strange all party long.”

Well fuck.

#Welcome to the Underground #My Story #Original Work #original story

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quickspinner · 4 years

Text

On the Edge of Dreams - LBSC SFC

Written for the LBSC sprint fic challenge. If you’d like to join in follow @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers for more information!

Challenge rules:

Pick a prompt and write for that prompt in up to three 15 minute sprints. No writing outside the sprints until you have completed all three! After the 3 sprints are complete, you have 24 hours to edit (which can include some new writing to smooth transitions, etc). After those 24 hours, post what you’ve got!

Prompt: "Oh no, s/he’s hot!”

More information on the challenge here!

It was a simple order. Nothing complicated about it. A large dark roast with room. He’d ordered it a thousand times, could do it without thought. Or at least, so he would have said until today.

But the truly stunning pair of blue eyes across the counter from him was blinking in confusion, thanks to the incomprehensible mixture of French, English, and Scots he’d just spouted.

His eyes zeroed in on the lovely set of lips as they parted, hesitated, and then spoke. “I’m sorry, I...didn’t quite catch that?”

Luka blinked and cleared his throat, feeling the blush heating up his face as he dragged his gaze back up to meet hers. “I’m sorry, it’s—I’m not a morning person. I think I left my brain in bed.”

She smiled, and damn if she wasn’t the prettiest girl he’d ever laid eyes on, perfect skin and gorgeous eyes and those lips were—

Speaking to him. Shit. “—all the time. Do you want to try again?”

Luka somehow managed to give his order correctly this time, and nearly fainted at the giggle she let out as she picked up the cup to write his order.

His eyes flicked to her nametag. Marinette.

“That’s my name,” she said, and Luka’s eyes shot up to her face again. “I asked for yours?”

“Sorry,” Luka repeated hurriedly. “Luka. My name’s Luka.”

“Can you spell it for me or is that too much to ask before you’ve had a chance to drink it?” she asked with a playful wink, and it was really a wonder his knees didn’t give out on him.

“Sure,” he said weakly, and spelled it for her (correctly, mercifully). She smiled at him and turned aside to start making his drink. Luka also turned away slightly in the other direction, pretending to look in the pastry case as he tried to catch his breath and get his bearings again. Damn, wasn’t this just his luck, face to face with a beautiful girl and him in wrinkled clothes and mussed hair looking like—well, he hoped he looked like he’d just pulled an all-nighter, and not like he’d been doing something far seedier.

He checked the time, and had to blink a couple of times before the numbers came into full focus. He really needed that coffee.

“You’re an angel,” he groaned as she set it on the display case in front of him.

“Careful, it’s—” she winced as he put the cup to his lips, but Luka was long past caring how hot the coffee was. He took a burning gulp and made a face before offering the girl— Marinette , he remembered—a lopsided smile.

“If I don’t get it down now I’m going to pass out on your steps,” he joked, and his smile grew a little wider when she laughed.

“You look it,” she said, propping her elbows up on the case and peering at him over it. “I hope the coffee helps. Can I offer you anything else?”

“I wouldn’t say no to a place to crash on your floor,” Luka joked, moving over to add cream and sugar to his coffee. “But it’d be kind of a waste to work on that damn paper all night and then pass out before I have a chance to turn it in, so coffee it is.” He snorted softly. “Who wants paper copies in this day and age anyway, really?” he muttered, and then blushed when he turned around to find the girl giggling at him over the top of the pastry case.

“Well, good luck,” she said, leaning her chin on one hand. “Make sure you double-check the mailbox number before you put it in. Ask me how I know.” She made a face.

Luka laughed as he went to the door. “Good tip. Thanks for the coffee, Marinette. I’m sure I’ll see you again.”

He fumbled the door handle when she smiled—and blushed.

He made her blush.

Luka wasn’t sure if he was more embarrassed by the goofy grin on his face or the way he tripped on the ledge of the door on the way out because he hadn’t looked away from that adorable blushy smile.

At least he managed to keep his coffee from spilling.

***

Three more times he visited the bakery that week, but each time he ordered his coffee from an older lady with a kind smile. She was nice enough, but Luka had been hoping to see Marinette again.

He came in the next week without much hope, but perked up as he saw Marinette behind the counter. His smile faded slightly though as she stood swaying on her feet. Her hair wasn’t messy but definitely not as tidy as before, and he could see the slight creases of makeup caked around her eyes as he approached, covering dark shadows, he was sure. Luka was at the counter and had to call her name twice before her gaze snapped up to his and she blinked rapidly.

“Oh,” she gasped, “I’m so sorry. Um, what can I get you?”

Luka ordered (correctly, and entirely in French this time) and added, as Marinette moved sluggishly to pick up the cup, “Should I make that two? You look like you need it more than I do this morning.”

Marinette shot him a tired smile that was still unbearably cute. “I probably do. I was working on a project all last night and I really couldn’t ask Mom to cover another shift for me, she’s been taking my shifts all week. It’s done now, so I can struggle through and—” She paused, staring at the cup in her hand. “Sorry, what am I making again?”

Luka chuckled and leaned on the counter as he repeated the order. She finished writing it on the cup that time, and Luka thought she breathed a sigh of relief at the simplicity of it.

“I’m serious,” Luka told her, and she looked at him in slight confusion. “I really will buy you a coffee if you need it.”

“Oh, that’s very kind, but I’ve already had some. Just waiting for it to kick in. I actually don’t care much for coffee most of the time but it was definitely necessary this morning.”

She set the cup on the counter in front of him and smiled. “Thanks for being patient with me, Luka.”

“It’s not like it’s hard,” he said stupidly, a little dazzled. She was adorable, even half-dead. “I hope you get some rest,” he added, as he took his coffee to add the cream and sugar.

“I will,” she shrugged with a tired smile. “Eventually.”

Luka took his coffee and left.

***

The next time he went to the bakery, he nearly ran into Marinette coming out of the door.

“Woah,” he said, catching her shoulders to keep her from falling. She put her hands out automatically to keep herself from impacting his chest.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” she said quickly, snatching her hands back and blushing to the roots of her hair. “Wow, you’re um. Strong. Sorry, I’m so sorry, I was going way too fast and I should have been looking and I didn’t hurt you, right?”

Luka nearly laughed at the thought. “No, I’m good,” he smiled, letting go of her shoulders. “Are you?”

“Fine,” she squeaked, turning redder by the minute.

“You sure?” Luka couldn’t help asking, tilting his head slightly. That shade really couldn’t be healthy.

“I’m fine, everything’s fine, I slam right into hot guys all the time, not a big deal at all and definitely nothing to get embarrassed and start babbling like an idiot over, nope, I’m all—all good.” She whined and put her hands over her face.

Luka had to take a second to get his bearings after that flood, but then a slow grin spread across his face. “Well, I can’t say I’m lucky enough to have to catch a hot girl all that often, but so far I’m not minding the experience.”

Marinette sputtered something completely unintelligible, and Luka chuckled, reaching in his pocket and fishing out a card. It was nothing fancy, just a slim black and white card with a website and instagram information on it that Rose had printed up at home, but today he was glad he was carrying them.

“This is the band I play with,” Luka said, giving her the card. “I’d love to run into you at a show sometime.” He grinned. “Literally or figuratively, either works for me.”

He stepped aside to clear her path as Marinette stared at him. “Maybe we can get not-coffee afterward.” Luka winked at her and went into the bakery, and then, glancing behind him to make sure he was clear, he covered his own face and fought down his internal panic at his boldness.

“Can I help you?” said an amused voice, and Luka jerked slightly before dropping his hands and staring at the older lady behind the counter—Marinette’s mother, he suddenly remembered with embarrassment.

“Um, yeah. I mean, yes, please.”

At least...that was what he meant to say. The confused look on the lady’s face mirrored Marinette’s from a couple weeks ago.

Luka sighed.

#lbsc sprint fic challenge #quickspins #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #promptfic #quickfic #quicksprints

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alonely-dreamer · 4 years

Text

The Valuable Sun | Chapter 22 (The End)

Summary: Witches never die.

Pairing: Eric x OC

Warnings: 18+

A/N: Please, note that I am French so there might be some mistakes here and there.

Words: 6228

Masterlist

Adapting to being a vampire wasn’t so hard for Brooklynne. Perhaps because she wasn’t really a vampire, but rather a vampire-fairy hybrid who, aside from being immortal, was as human as she used to be.

She didn’t fear the sun, she ate human food and didn’t have to rely on blood to survive. The hardest part of her transition was that everything was heightened. Her sight, her hearing, her strength… She was faster than lightning, and, since apparently it was a hereditary talent, she could fly, like her maker. A talent she’d have to learn to control, and a talent which Pam was jealously unequipped with.

To the rest of the world, Brooke was just another mortal, weird like her sister, maybe gifted with telepathy for those who believed in those sorts of things. But to her family, to her loved ones, she was the strongest creature on Earth, and, therefore, the weakest.

Eric’s worry was loud and made him even more unpleasant than before. With other people, that is. He took extra care of Brooklynne, who felt like a little girl again, who wasn’t allowed to leave her house because she’d get too distracted to even remember her own name.

Fortunately for her, Eric could not control her days, which she spent with her sister at Merlotte’s. It had been a week now, since she had become a vampire, and the only abnormal behavior she showed was an extreme appetite. She could not stop eating, and she almost emptied Sam’s kitchen, not that he would ever complain about it.

“Look at you,” Arlene said as she walked behind the bar to grab a bottle of alcohol. “You wouldn’t be expecting a happy event, would you?”

Brooklynne almost choked on her chicken wing and Arlene laughed as the hybrid coughed and wiped the mess she had made.

“What? No!”

“I’m just kidding ya. I know you can’t get pregnant. Not while you’re with that vampire of yours…”

Brooklynne watched the waitress walk away and disappear in the hallway, leaving a wave of disapproval behind her.

“Fuck you too,” she mumbled under her breath.

“What was that?” Sookie asked, approaching her with a plate she put down on the bar.

“Nothing.”

“What did Arlene want?”

“To make sure I knew how much she hates my kind.”

“To be fair, you’re the first and only one of your kind.”

“Wanna join me?”

“No, thanks,” she swiftly dismissed the mere idea, “hey, isn’t Eric supposed to be here already?”

“Yeah. I guess there was an emergency at Fangtasia. He’s not answering my texts.”

“Well, that’s weird.”

“Not really,” she shrugged. “It’s Halloween. He says there’s always some shit happening on Halloween.”

“When did you start using those words?” Sookie sighed. “You weren’t always so vulgar.”

Her sister laughed. “Sorry. I’m just repeating what he said.”

“Anyway, I have to take out the trash before I leave, want me to drive you?”

“Sure, why not? I’ll join you outside.”

Brooklynne finished her plate, then her drink in one go, before leaving some cash on the bar. She walked across the restaurant and exited through the back door. There, she found her sister and Holly talking about Marnie. Brooke rolled her eyes.

“What’s going on?”

“Hey, Brooklynne.”

“What’s up Holly?”

“Oh, nothing, honey. We were just talking about… well… we just have a bad feeling, is all.”

“It’s probably nothing,” Sookie waved it off.

“Yeah. We’re just spooked because it’s Halloween and all.”

Screeching tires drew their attention towards Tara’s car who had just parked in a panic. Brooklynne didn’t know if it was the previous spooky talk, or just Tara’s look as she ran towards them, but she was starting to have a bad feeling as well.

“Tara?” Sookie called. “Tara what is it? What happened?”

“She’s back!”

“Who’s back, honey?”

“Marnie.”

“Marnie’s dead,” Brooklynne rolled her eyes. “I should know, I killed her myself.”

“She killed Jesus,” Tara started crying. “I think she’s inside Lafayette.”

Sookie turned slowly towards her little sister, who oddly appeared to stand taller than her for once.

“Don’t look at me, I’m no witch. I wouldn’t know the first thing about getting that bitch out of Lafayette.”

“No, Brooke… Eric’s not answering his phone.”

If Brooklynne ever doubted her heart was still beating, she sure had the answer now, as it felt like it skipped a beat as she realized what her sister was saying.

“No,” she scoffed in disbelief. “He’d kill Lafayette on the spot.”

“I’m gonna try to call Bill,” the waitress said as she took out her phone.

Brooklynne shook her head, maybe to try and throw the mere idea of Eric being in any kind of danger away, as she took out her own cellphone.

“Bill’s not answering,” Sookie said, now even more panicked than before.

“Eric either…”

“Well, do we know where they could be?” Holly asked.

Sookie took a deep breath as she remembered what Bill had told her earlier: ‘I’ll be waiting for you at home. My men will let you in.’

“Yes. We do.”

***

Vampires were supposed to heal fast. So fast that they could barely feel pain. Which is why this headache was doubly irritating for Brooklynne. Between the busy minds of her sister, Holly and Tara, whom she was riding with, her own head felt like it was about to explode. Filled with worry and incomprehension, she kept asking herself if she should just get out of the car and run to Bill’s house on her own. She’d already be there.

“You can’t. If Tara and Holly find out you’re a vampire, it won’t be a secret anymore.”

“Who cares at this point? Eric could die any second now!”

“Pam might already be there.”

“If he wanted either of us there, he’d had already called us. Which means he’s in real danger, Marnie is not kidding around, she’s aiming to kill!”

“Don’t remind me. I’m driving you to her!”

“She won’t have a chance to hurt me. She’ll be dead before…”

“You can’t kill her like last time, Brooke. She’s inside Lafayette. We need to trust Holly, she knows how this works.”

“No, she doesn’t, are you listening to her? She’s got a bag full of salt and a mouth full of ‘maybes’. What if she has no clue how to deal with this?”

“Either way, we’re not killing Lafayette.”

“If killing Lafayette is the only way to save Eric, I will do it myself.”

“Are you hearing yourself? You’re talking about killing Lafayette! Our friend! Tara’s cousin!”

“Sorry, Sook. But it’s not a hard choice. Not even a little bit.”

Brooklynne did her best to shut her sister’s disapproving thoughts out of her head, she knew it all already. Of course, she wouldn’t be happy about killing Lafayette. Of course, she’d rather Holly’s plan worked. But if it didn’t, if she had to choose between watching Marnie/Lafayette kill Eric or kill her/him herself, she wouldn’t lose sleep over it. She stopped for a second, a very brief second, and wondered if she’d had thought the same as a human/fairy. If she had been in that situation a month ago, what would she have done? She knew what she would have done. She’d have been too weak to fight off Marnie. She’d have been too weak to save Eric.

She wasn’t going to be weak tonight.

“Any of you got a mirror?” Holly asked as she did the inventory of her Wiccan first aid-kit.

“You ever done this before?” Sookie asked as she handed her a small mirror she found in her purse.

“Goddess, no,” the waitress replied as she shoved the mirror into her bag, next to the salt and the sage. “Usually, I just light a candle and ask the spirits to make sure my boys don’t end up in jail or knock somebody up.”

Sookie could hear her sister scoff and roll her eyes next to Holly, a “what did I say?” echoing inside of her head.

“But so far, that’s worked out okay.”

“Maybe you’re just a good mother,” Brooke mumbled.

“Oh, thanks honey.”

Brooklynne frowned as the mother of two gave her a nervous smile, her lack of faith in her Wiccan religion completely oblivious to her.

“Sook, you can’t let them hurt him,” Tara begged. “If Bill and Eric find out Marnie’s inside Lafayette…”

“I have a feeling they already know…”

Tara stepped on the accelerator. They were only a couple of minutes away. Brooklynne kept trying to reach her maker through their bond, but the silence she was met with only helped widening the pit in her stomach.

Tara stopped the car at the gates of Bill’s property and the four women jumped out of the vehicle, Holly, her bag of magic tricks on her shoulder.

Brooklynne, though she had been patient until then, didn’t even think twice about disappearing on them as soon as she smelled wood and straw.

“Eric!”

She found them tied up together to a pyre, half naked, silver chains around their bare chest.

“What are you doing here? You need to go, now!”

“Are you crazy? I’m not leaving without you!”

“Brooklynne!” Sookie called as she caught up to her sister, Holly and Tara behind her.

“Are you kidding me? You didn’t think to tell us you were a vampire?” Tara started to yell.

“She can’t be, she was at the bar all day long!” Holly said, confused, and a little bit scared.

They didn’t get the time to argue about it any more, however, as Marnie appeared before them.

“As your friend Lafayette would say, what goes around comes around, bitches.”

“I’m gonna kill you, you crazy bitch.”

“You already have,” Marnie replied with surprising calm. “Thank you for coming.”

Marnie/Lafayette raised a hand and waved it once to the left. Brooklynne felt her feet get off the floor and was sent flying across the garden where she collided with a tree.

Eric and Sookie called her name, in useless worry. She was back up on her feet in a matter of seconds.

“Lafayette!”

Tara received a deathly stare from the dead witch inside her cousin, and she gulped.

“… and Marnie. Please, don’t do this.”

“After all they’ve done to you, you protect them?”

“Killing Bill and Eric isn’t gonna make any of that go away.”

“Revenge will never bring you peace,” Eric told her.

“There can’t be peace until there is justice for me, for Antonia, for all the women you tortured and burned for centuries!”

Taking advantage of the moment, Holly started drawing a circle of salt around the pyre as Marnie had her back turned to her.

“All to repress a magic that’s older and more powerful than your very existence.”

“Marnie, what will this serve?” Bill, who saw Holly and understood the plan, asked, to help distract her. “There are millions of us, more being made every night. You cannot win.”

“I’m already dead, vampire. Thanks to you and your friends, I have nothing left to lose.”

Marnie lowered her head and raised her hands in the air as she casted three more words “incendia of sanctimonia”.

“No!” Brooke and Sookie screamed as they tried to make their way to the now burning pyre. But the fire Marnie had just started only grew bigger as they reached it. Brooklynne dragged her sister away from it as Tara joined them.

“Stop it,” she yelled. “It’s still Lafayette!”

“I don’t care,” Brooke growled as she raised a hand, a blinding light coming out of it, hitting Lafayette/Marnie in the chest, pushing them far away. It didn’t stop the fire, to her biggest disappointment.

Holly finished the circle of salt, joining them back to her starting point, as Marnie sat up, now, neither looking like Lafayette or herself, but with a painted face of some sort of creature.

“Give me your hands, now!”

Hesitantly, Tara joined the three women in a circle, taking the hand of the two sisters in her own. Immediately, they started chanting.

“Spirits who watch over us, friends, family, ancestors, guardians of the gate, with this rite we evoke thee through the veil of Samhain, we call thee forth.”

Again and again, they chanted, keeping Marnie out of the circle, however, doing nothing to stop the fire that was burning the two vampires next to them.

As the dead witch growled and the immortals screamed out of pain, spirits appeared in the cemetery near them, walking the earth once more, to join them in their battle. Sookie kept an eye open on Bill, while Brooklynne focused on Eric, doing her best not to break the circle and jump in the fire herself to get him out of there.

“Marnie.”

The summoned spirits stood in the forest, behind Marnie, calling her, only one, however, getting her attention: Antonia.

“Marnie.”

Lafayette’s face changed back to normal as the painted face of the creature disappeared, Marnie, making her way to the ghost of her former partner.

“My sister.”

“You came back to me…” she said, and the witch smiled. “I knew you would.”

Antonia’s eyes moved from Lafayette/Marnie to the burning pyre, and from where she stood blew out the fire as easily as she would have blown off the candles on a birthday cake.

“Antonia, no!”

Brooklynne didn’t wait one more second as she made her way to her maker, ripped off the silver chains tying the vampires to the still hot death trap. Eric’s knees were too weak and she caught him as he fell. However, no one was there to catch the King, who fell off the pyre and onto the hard ground. Sookie was quickly by his side.

“Are you okay?”

“Crispy.”

“Why the hell didn’t you call me? Or Pam?”

“So you could have burned with me? Not a great plan.”

“Not asking for help isn’t a plan at all!”

Off the pyre and back on the ground, Eric enjoyed the feeling of his burning bare feet on the cold grass. Brooke helped him kneel down.

“What the hell am I supposed to do without you? Don’t you dare die on me now that I’m immortal!”

“I’d rather die knowing that you’re safe, than die after watching you get killed.”

“And I’d rather die than spend immortality without you, so don’t you ever do that again!”

“Alright. I’ll try not to get burned alive by the crazy ghost of a witch again. That I can promise you.”

“Shut up and drink,” she rolled her eyes as she kneeled beside him and offered him her wrist.

The witches were still talking on the other side of the circle, and whatever Antonia was saying, Marnie didn’t want to hear it.

“All creatures have their purpose, even vampires.”

“How can you say that? They murdered us!”

“Their cruelty served its purpose: to bring you and I together. And now I am here to take you home.”

“I’m not finished yet.”

“Oh, yes you are.”

That voice. Brooklynne knew that voice. She turned her head, but whoever it was, she was hidden behind the pyre. However, Sookie could see her perfectly.

“Gran?”

“Holy Goddess.”

“Holy shit.”

Eric released Brooke’s hand so that she could get up and see for herself, Adele, her grandmother, make her way to Lafayette, put her hand in his mouth and reach down his throat. She took out a black fog which she threw away behind her. Once it reached the ground, it turned into Marnie.

“I don’t wanna go. I am not ready. Please!” she begged as she stood up.

“I was trapped between world for 400 years… lost and driven mad by my rage. I do not want that for you.”

“And what about what I want?! Nobody cares what I want! All my life, I’ve been afraid. And who wouldn’t be? With dead people murmuring in my ears, making me deliver your messages… making me into a freak! A creepy, pathetic, terrified mess muttering to herself in the corner.”

“But that is not who you are anymore.”

“No. That’s right. I’m not afraid anymore. I’ve got real power now. And you want to take that away from me?” she cried. “You want them to win?”

“Oh, Marnie,” Antonia said as she took Marnie’s face between her hands, “Marnie, can’t you see? Life is pain. But soon, all you have suffered and feared will be meaningless. You will be at peace. But them…”

“… they’ll be stuck here. Forever.”

“And there is no victory in that.”

A tear or two fell down Marnie’s cheeks as she screamed. “Oh, this fucking sucks.”

“Come on.”

Antonia took Marnie’s hand and led her down to the forest where the other spirits were waiting for her. Adele followed them.

“Gran!”

Sookie and Brooklynne called after her, hoping to make her stay.

“Please don’t go,” Sookie cried.

“I have to, dear.”

“I’m so lost without you. I don’t know what to do.”

“Yes, you do. Look at your sister. She’s got it all figured out,” she said as she smiled, proudly, at Brooklynne.

“Oh, Gran… I’m so sorry.”

“For what, dear?”

Brooklynne sniffed and shrugged, hoping her grandmother was proud of her, of who she had become.

“Answer’s where it always is. In your heart. Being alone, it ain’t nothing to be afraid of, my girls. We’re all alone, at the end.”

She smiled at them one last time before joining the spirits back to the cemetery and her granddaughters watch her leave them with tears in their eyes.

Brooke felt a hand slide on her waist, and she took it, as Eric pulled her towards him.

“No offense to your grandmother, but neither one of us will be alone at the end.”

Brooke chuckled as she wiped the tears off her face with the back of her hand.

“This is the worst night ever.”

“Well,” he said as he turned her around and wiped one last tear with his thumb, “the night is still young.”

***

Eric had no idea how right he was. Well, maybe he did, a little. He knew what was coming. For him, for Bill. For Brooklynne. They were coming for their heads.

He hadn’t said a word, but Brooklynne knew too. She wasn’t used to being able to read his mind, and it mostly just happened, she couldn’t control it. He was thinking about it, so hard, as he was drinking her blood, in Bill’s living room. She could hear her sister break up with Bill in the other room, and she just wished she could tune them out. Hearing Bill cry made her feel sick.

“Are you sure they’re coming after you too? It wasn’t your fault.”

“They don’t care. I was caught on camera.”

“They destroyed all of that footage.”

“There are witnesses.”

“Glamour them.”

“It’s too late.”

“Then we should leave. Now.”

“And go where? They won’t stop until…”

“Brooklynne.”

The vampire-fairy hybrid turned to see her sister enter the room. Her eyes were red. And wet.

“I’m going home.”

“Okay. I’m staying here, with Eric.”

“You should go with her. There’s no reason for you to be here when…”

Brooklynne shot him a look that told him all he needed to know. She wasn’t going anywhere. She’d save him. Or die trying.

“Have a good night, Sook.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” her sister nodded as she waved, before she walked away.

“The AVL doesn’t know I’m a vampire. They can’t kill me. It’s against their own rules.”

“If you get in their way, if you show them what you can do…”

“Eric,” she stopped him, taking a step forward and placing a hand above his, “either we’re leaving town, or we’re staying. But we stay together.”

Eric sighed, defeated.

“Like you said, neither of us will be alone at the end.”

***

Bill was back to being a cold bastard when he joined them in his living room. He sat in an armchair next to them, and they all kept a dreadful quiet as they enjoyed the last hour of their life.

Bill had nothing else to lose. He had just lost the only thing he wanted, the only thing he needed. Without Sookie, he had no reason to live. He wouldn’t fight the Authority, if they came knocking on his door with a true death warrant. Eric thought about his human life. His immortal life. Godric. Pam. Brooklynne. He thought about the life he had and the one he would never get. The life he dreamt of having with Brooklynne, and the one he could never give her. But Brooklynne wasn’t done fighting. She had barely started. She’d use all of her powers to kill them all, if need be. She felt strong enough. She never even took the time to ask herself if she could.

When the cars arrived, disturbing the silent night as they drove on the gravel driveway, they all felt like time had stopped. Like it was all decided, and they would either leave the house alive, or not at all.

Brooklynne suddenly felt like she had forgotten so many things. Her siblings. She should have said goodbye to them. But instead, she let Sookie go without even telling her she might never see her again. She was almost certain Eric was thinking the same way about Pam. But he knew if he had let her know about any of this, she’d had come, and he couldn’t do that to her. She deserved better.

At least, Bill had said his goodbye.

“This is it,” the King of Louisiana said as he straightened his suit.

“It’s been a crazy thousand years.”

Brooklynne scoffed dryly.

“I thought immortality would last longer.”

They followed Bill as he took the direction of the front door. He opened with a polite smile, a smile Brooklynne had dubbed “Bill’s political smile”.

Nan Flanagan was standing on the porch with a handful of heavily armed men and she looked pissed. She looked furious.

“Ms. Flanagan, we’ve been expecting you.”

Eric and Brooklynne appeared behind their king. It somehow seemed to make her angrier.

“Hi, Nan. And gay stormtroopers.”

Eric’s ability to make stupid jokes in moments such as this one was one of the reasons Brooklynne loved him so much.

“Perfect. Two birds, one stone,” she said as she entered the house, taking the direction of Bill’s office, followed by her guards.

Though Eric stayed silent, Brooklynne could feel his relief. Whatever Nan’s orders were, Brooklynne didn’t seem to be included in them.

The couple stepped in the crowded office, joining Bill’s side.

“The Marnie situation has been resolved, if that makes any difference,” Bill said.

“Ding, dong, the witch is dead,” Nan replied with a tone so sharp it would have given the true death to any vampire who got too close. “Yippee.”

“His Majesty showed great leadership in extremely perilous circumstances. You should be kissing his ring.”

“Why bother when your tongue’s already so far up his ass?”

Eric contemplated his options as his desire to kill the bitch grew stronger. Brooklynne was glad he controlled himself.

Nan gestured her guards to close the door and they stood before it, blocking the only exit. Brooklynne looked up at Eric who seemed to be as nervous as she was. This meant nothing good.

“I wish for one fucking night you could experience the litany of bullshit I’ve had to deal with. Then you’d have some idea of how little I give a fuck about your small-town witch infestation, or your whole backwoods kingdom, for that matter.”

“For someone who cares so little, you seem awfully pissed off.”

“Do I, Bill? Maybe that’s because I quit my fucking job!”

“You quit the AVL?” Eric asked, as baffled as Bill was.

“And the Authority.”

“No one quits the Authority,” Bill chuckled nervously.

“Quit, fired, same difference!”

“We assumed we were the ones to be terminated.”

“Oh, there’s been an order issued on your heads.”

Hearing those words, Brooklynne instinctively seized Eric’s hand.

“My last duty was supposed to be delivering the True Death to both of you. Of course, I realized I’d be next.”

She sighed, trying to control her anger. Failing.

“I have been alive for eight hundred and sixteen years. I refuse to be retired like a fat first wife!”

“Let me make sure I got this straight,” Eric said. “You’re mutinying against the American Vampire League and the Authority?”

“And you expect us to join you?”

“We won’t be alone,” she assured them. “There are factions inside the regime who have never been completely on board with the current agenda. Sheriff Northman knows what I’m talking about.”

Brooklynne frowned. So did Bill.

“What’s in it for us?” the Viking asked, undisturbed by the accusation.

Nan laughed. “Aside from surviving the night? How about your little fairy toy over there? And her sister.”

Their silence and cold stares didn’t faze her.

“Oh, come on. The mind reading, the microwave fingers? You didn’t think I knew what you were? There are at least a couple thousand vampires who would do almost anything to get a taste of your blood.”

“They’re welcome to try,” Brooklynne smirked.

In the next second, she had seized Bill’s paper knife and cut the throat of all of Nan’s human guards. Eric had wanted to do it, but she insisted, as it was her sister she was protecting.

“You’re a vampire?” Nan gasped, looking at her like she was an alien. Which… she was.

“Don’t. threaten. my sister.”

Bill armed himself with the fancy stake that was on display behind his seat, and stabbed Nan who exploded on the spot. There were pieces of her everywhere, the vampires were covered with her blood. Brooklynne took what looked like a tooth from her hair and threw it towards the pile of blood at her feet. She grimaced, then sighed.

“Can we leave now?”

***

Leaving a voicemail to his progeny, Bill didn’t help Eric clean up the mess he had made of Nan Flanagan. Brooklynne stared at the fake window as her maker made sure to get rid of any evidence that would work against them in case of a trial. Though, if they ever got caught, they would not get the luxury of a trial. Their fate was already sealed, killing Nan was just going to buy them a little bit more time. Or so they thought.

As soon as they stepped out of the house, they fell into a silver trap. They were surrounded by a dozen heavily armed men who threw silver nets at Bill and Eric. They both cried out of pain and Brooklynne’s first instinct was to help her maker, but she was quickly pinned against the wall with unhuman strength.

The soldier took off his helmet and stared at her, right in the eyes, as he said: “go back inside, sit down and forget this ever happened”.

Her eyes grew big as she realized he was trying to glamour her. She could see in the corner of her eye that they were taking them away, towards the trunk of their black vehicle. There were too many soldiers there, all wearing protection gear and weapons that could kill a vampire in a second. She did her best to put the loud voice inside her head to rest. It killed her to ignore it, it almost destroyed her to not try anything to help Eric, but she knew if she tried anything, if she showed them she couldn’t be compelled, if she showed them what she really was, they’d either kill her or take her too, and she would never be able to help anyone again.

So, she did as he asked. She went back inside Bill’s house, sat on the first armchair she could find, and watched as they drove away.

She got up as soon as she was certain they wouldn’t be able to see her follow them. She stayed far enough away, running fast, faster than she ever thought she could run. She even tried to fly, but to no avail. She followed them out of Bon-Temps and into an empty road. It was the middle of the night, so there was no one else there, but vampires.

She tried to think of a plan, of a way to get them out that wouldn’t get her and them killed. But there was no way she could free them without alerting the Authority soldiers.

But, suddenly, the black van in which all of the soldiers had gotten into took another road. It confused Brooklynne for a second, until she realized they were probably going back to their base, which meant Bill and Eric were going somewhere else. Somewhere like New-Orleans, to the Vampire Authority Headquarters.

She ran even faster now, so she could catch up to the single car, in which Eric was trapped. She positioned herself in the middle of the road, in front of the vehicle, but far enough away so that they could see her before driving into her. She rose a hand and the brightest light came out of it, blinding the driver. He immediately, out of instinct, turned the wheel, causing the car to roll over three times before it stopped in the field on her right.

She rushed towards the trunk which was already half opened. One kick was enough to open it wide.

“Brooklynne,” Eric breathed out as he crawled out, “what are you doing?”

“Saving your life? You’re welcome. Come on.”

They helped Bill out but didn’t get the time to do anything else as a vampire, whom Brooke recognized to be the driver, showed up behind them, holding a gun, no doubt loaded with silver bullets.

“Who wants to die first?”

Eric pushed Brooke behind him, screaming at her mentally to run the second she can, to not think twice about it. As soon as he turned into a pool of blood, she had to make a run for it.

But he wasn’t the one who exploded into a disgusting pile of bloody body parts.

A woman stood where the vampire used to be a second before, his spine in her hand.

“You, Hayes,” she said, looking down at the pile of blood, “you die first.”

“Nora,” Eric breathed out.

Their savior threw the spine on the ground and shook her bloody hand, trying to get the remaining pieces of Hayes off of her skin.

“I had arranged for our car to be conveniently ambushed when we hit 310,” Nora said, she had a British accent. Our attackers were going to take out my driver there. Unfortunately, wonder woman over here came 12 miles too soon.”

“Um… sorry?”

“Don’t be. It was badass.”

“Eric, you know this woman?” Bill asked.

“Yes. She’s my sister.”

Brooklynne thought she had misheard. Eric never mentioned a sister. She felt confused and… betrayed?

“Your sister? You have a sister who works for the Authority?” Bill says, both surprised and suspicious.

“I’m a Chancellor,” she replied proudly.

“I don’t understand,” Brooke said. “If you knew they were coming for Eric, why didn’t you warn him?”

“There was no time. The Guardian wanted Nan followed to make sure she carried out his orders. I saw an opportunity to save Eric, so I took it.”

“So nobody in the Authority knows about your relationship?” Bill asked.

“And they never will. We were only connected through out maker, Godric. And Godric is gone,” she said with obvious sorrow.

“As a Chancellor of the Authority, you’re taking a huge risk,” Bill continued, still not trusting her fully. “Why would you choose to…”

“Because I’d do anything for Eric.”

“And I’d do anything for you,” the Viking said as he took a step forward.

He went to hug his sister, whom he apparently hadn’t seen in decades. She smiled as she hugged him back. Brooklynne thought it would have been nice to know he had someone he cared about so much other than Pam. Though she could understand why keeping their relationship a secret was for the best, perhaps he could have trusted her enough to share that secret with her.

“And,” Nora continued, “because you did what you did protecting us from the necromancers. That we would reward you for it with the True Death speaks volume about how out of step the Authority’s current agenda is.”

So, Nan knew. Nan knew of Nora and of her relationship with Eric. Which meant Eric did keep in touch at least a little bit. Brooke tried to keep her anger to a minimum.

“I’m not alone in this belief.”

“Factions within the Authority?” Bill asked, making the connection with the information Nan had given him earlier that night.

“Mm-mmh,” she nodded. “So, who’s wonder woman?”

Nora looked at the fairy with interest, but Brooke didn’t answer, uncertain of how much she should say. She turned to Eric for guidance.

“Nora, this is Brooklynne, my progeny.”

“A pleasure, I’m sure…” Nora mumbled thoughtfully. “What is she? She smells amazing.”

“She’s…” Eric pondered. “… complicated.”

“Right…” she said, suspicious. “And I suppose that light is part of the… complications.”

“What light?”

“The light that came out of your progeny, causing Hayes to drive us into this field.”

Eric looked at Brooklynne with regret. She exposed herself to save him, putting herself in danger.

“Like I said. It’s complicated.”

“Well,” she sighed, resigned to stay in the dark, “’complicated’ is an improvement from that whore you keep around.”

“Nora!” Eric hissed, threateningly.

Brooklynne frowned. Perhaps her contempt for Pam was what kept the two apart for so long. She couldn’t help but wonder if Eric trusted any of them. She thought she knew him, but she just realized she had many, many things to figure out about him still. The fact he kept her true identity from Nora meant he didn’t trust her entirely either, or perhaps, it was just the Authority that made him nervous. But finding out about Nora’s existence that night rose many questions that she didn’t have time to ask at the moment.

“Help me turn the car around,” Nora asked Bill. “Let’s see if it can drive us somewhere safe for the day.”

Eric gestured Brooklynne to follow him and they made their way to the road in silence. She tried hard not to explore his thoughts.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a sister?”

“We don’t tell anyone we’re related. It’s for everyone’s safety.”

“Okay. Why didn’t you tell her who I was? She thinks I’m a vampire.”

“She saw your speed and strength, she already knew you were a vampire.”

“But you don’t trust her enough to tell her the truth.”

“She works for the Authority. If she ever gets caught for being ‘against the current agenda’ she’ll get tortured and asked about everything that she knows. I told you, you can’t trust anyone.”

“So what? I’m just supposed to pretend to be a vampire now? To sleep all day? Pretend I don’t eat human food?”

“Only around Nora, which you won’t be for long.”

She sighed. “Right. So… what do we do now?”

“We do nothing. Nora will get Bill and I out of here. We’ll have new identities, we’ll be safer once we get out of the country.”

“What? What do you mean? I’m coming with you.”

“No, you’re not.”

Brooklynne gasped as she took a step back. It felt like a slap in the face.

“The Authority has no knowledge of your existence, there is no warrant out for you arrest, you can go back to Bon-Temps, be with your sister.”

“No! No way.”

“Brooklynne.”

He put his hands on both her shoulders as he looked down at her.

“It’s not safe to come with me. They will hunt me down until they catch me.”

“So?”

“So, you’ll be safer in Bon-Temps. Stay with Pam. I’ll be in touch, I’ll call, I’ll…”

“Eric, I am not going back to Bon-Temps without you. I’m not going anywhere without you. You promised! We promised.”

“The life that’s waiting for me is not worth living.”

“No life is worth living without you, how many times do I have to say it?!”

“Brook-“

“No! I have no life without you, Eric. You are my life. You gave me immortality and you better be sure I’m going to spend it with you. You will not abandon me here!”

“Brooklynne,” he sighed as he brought her to his chest.

He placed a kiss on the top of her head as he hugged her.

“This isn’t what I wanted for you.”

“I know. But it’s better than nothing.”

He backed away and placed his hands on both sides of her face.

“I love you,” he said as dark red tears appeared in his eyes.

She gave him a sad smile. “I love you too. More than anything.”

He leaned over to kiss her. His lips capturing hers like it was the first and last time they would do so. He held her tightly to him, as to stop her from slipping away.

He released her reluctantly, caressing her cheeks with his thumbs, and returning her sad smile.

“Forgive me.”

She frowned. But she didn’t get the time to express her confusion as he swiftly twisted her head, breaking it in a horrible sound that will haunt him forever.

The end… ?

**********

Tags: @thepoet1975 @nerdysandwichqueen @catchmeupimgettingoutofhere @raegan-hale @colie87 @heavenly1927 @abbey7103 @with-love-maddie

#true blood #eric x oc #eric northman #bill x sookie #sookie stackhouse #fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #oc #reader #eric x reader #pam #sookie x oc #sookie x reader #jason stackhouse #bad ending #i'm sorry please don't hate me no idk when I'll update or even if I ever will

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pl-panda · 5 years

Text

Damienette arranged marriage: Part 10

Okay. You will probably either love me or try to kill me for this one. Good corruption is so hard to write.

Credits: Miraculous Ladybug team for the elements I take from MLB show. DC for their characters, @ozmav for the AU, @maribat-archive for giving me access to so many different stories to have take inspirations from, @thyladyanput for idea for Chat Damian and me for the plot.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Part 9

Damienette arranged marriage: Part 10

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

Chloe sat there, not sure what to make of the discussion. She was about to say something when something crashed through the window. The three teens starred at the form of Chat Noir. He was looking different. His ears and tail were real instead of accesories and instead of bell on his neck he had only a choker with word 'Marinette' written on it.

"My Purrincess! I come to save you!”

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

One month ago

Adrien was angry. His lady just got married. And it wasn't with him. Something was wrong with this idea. He already had everything planned. He knew what suit he would wear, he had a general idea about the dress, he even chose the place. HIs Lady would not refuse him. And yet, he was too late. She told him several times that she was in love with someone else and now she married this someone. Someone who was not him.

He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry, he wanted to punch something... someone. And not just anyone, but this one person who stole his lady from him. His mind was racing, trying to remember every single detail she revealed. The most important so far was marriage, but he decided to leave that for the last. She definitely liked the Gabriel Brand and often recognized him. She thought she loved someone, but she never revealed many details. Ladybug also...

"I know what you are doing and better drop it." Plagg sounded next to him.

"I can't. She made a mistake. We are destined to be with each other Plagg."

"Are you having a stroke or did Lila steal your last brain cell?" the kwami scolded him harshly. "If ladybug chose someone else, then you should respect her choice and roll with it. Besides, don't you need to be eighteen to marry in this century?"

"She loves me. She just doesn't know it yet! And age is just a number."

"As is the cell number she will end up in if she is with you." Plagg deadpanned.

"No. I... but... We... You said Chat Noir and Ladybug are destined to be together!"

"Yes, but not as a couple you moron. I swear I am always the one who gets the dummies..." Plagg moaned to himself. "The two miraculous are destined to be used together or they will create imbalance. There can never be Ladybug without Chat Noir for a prolonged amount of time or we risk another pompei."

"I don't care! She's my lady! We are made for each other!" Adrien almost screamed.

"Tikki help me... You are an idiot." Plagg just stated and phazed through the wall to get to his hidden camembert stash. He was too hungry to deal with mr. possessiveness right now.

Adrien huffed at the actions of his Kwami. The gluttonous cat knew nothing. He was Ladybug's perfect partner in both fighting Akumas and in life. With that thought he fell asleep.

----------

Next day school seemed plain and boring. Just like he expected Lila made sure Marinette did not have a chance to explain herself. Why did this two girls couldn't get along. He sighted. From his place he could not really see Marinette in the back, but he was almost certain she would be okay. This was Marinette he was thinking about. She was pretty much their everyday-ladybug. He frowned at the thought. Stupid someone. If only he could punch this person in the face.

Plagg didn't talk to him at all, choosing to instead stash himself with ungodly amounts of cheese. Who needed this lazy cat anyway? It's not like he had to be Chat Noir. He could do whatever he wanted.

After classes he tried to speak with Marinette, but she just brushed him off and run to her home. He just shrugged. She was strong, smart and resourceful. She was almost like Ladybug except without powers. And she was just as pretty. Maybe even prettier because she had no mask covering half of her face. But she still wasn't his Lady. Adrien sighted as he got into the limousine. The Gorilla took him home. Like always the bulky man only grunted instead of speaking. If someone replaced him with a semi-shaved gorilla most people wouldn't notice. Adrien would, but probably no one else.

When they arrived at the mansion Nathalie was already waiting for him. She had her usual emotionless expression, but Adrien noticed the corners of her lips were slightly upward.

"Adrien. Your father wants to speak with you." She started.

"Father? What does he want?" Adrien asked as politely as possible. It was very unusual for Gabriel to demand a meeting with his son.

"It's best if he tells you himself." Nathalie did not reveal anything.

"Okay." Adrien smiled sadly. Usually in this kind of situations it meant something bad.

She led him to the atelier where his father stood by the drawing board.

"Welcome son. Nathalie, leave us." Gabriel's voice showed surprising amount of emotions for him. The assistant nodded and walked out of the room. The father and son were now alone in large room. "Come here Adrien." The older man did not need to make any hand gestures. His voice emphasized the order enough.

"What is it Father. Nathalie said you wanted to speak with me."

"Yes, but not here." Gabriel simply shut down all further questions. Adrien stood next to him curious when the older man pressed several buttons that were parts of the painting of Emilie. The ground below them lit and Adrien found himself on an elevator going down. A large hall lit in front of him. There were rows of lanterns on the walls and a single catwalk in the middle that led to some green area at the far end. There was some tube that Adrien couldn't see the content of. Behind everything was a giant symbol that looked like a flower, but the young Agreste couldn't shake the feeling it reminded him of something more malicious.

They stepped off the platform and Gabriel walked to the tube on the far end without saying a word. Adrien just followed him. It was not possible for the two of them to walk side by side so he only saw the tube again once they got to the platform.What was inside froze his blood.

Inside laid Emilie Agreste, his mother.

"F-Father...?" His voice was almost just a whisper. "Wh-What is all of this?"

"Your mother is very ill my son. This stasis chamber is the only thing keeping her alive."

"Why isn't she in hospital? Everyone believes she died." Adrien was still shaken by this. He had no idea what to think. He did not pay slightest attention to small flock of white butterflies on the edges of this green island.

"No hospital on earth could possibly help her. Only a miracle could save her. Or a wish."

The meaning behind last word hit Adrien with the speed of rushing train. The silence that fell after was so loud that he could hear the flapping of butterfly wings.

"N-No... That can't be... You... But she... We... I... She... Ladybug... Mother... Father... My lady..." Adrien started babbling incomprehensibly. His father watched his son's eyes jump between the stasis pod, himself, the ring on his finger and the window behind them. Gabriel walked to his son and gently placed a hand on boy's shoulder.

"Adrien. Listen to me. I know you are confused, but everything I do is to unite our family. I am sorry I didn't tell you before. You were still young when this happened and I didn't want to burden you. But I can no longer see you so secluded. Suffering from the ignorance. I don't want you in anymore danger. Help me son. I don't think I can do this without you. I want to see our family together." As Gabriel spoke to his son, the expression on boy's face changed. It was that of acceptance. Older man had to hold the urge to grin. It was all coming together. They would finally be one, happy family together.

"But... My Lady..." Adrien was still torn between his loyalties.

"What are you talking about?!" Father was losing patience.

"Ladybug. My Lady. She..." the boy started and Gabriel finally caught the flow. All the dots connected. He had to improvise. It could be all or nothing.

"And what did she for you my son? She doesn't care about you. In neither forms. Not really. What does Ladybug really know about you?"

Adrien grasped. Only now he realized that he revealed himself before his supposedly worst enemy. But it didn't matter. His father was right. Ladybug didn't care about him. She chose someone else and abandoned him. He didn't owe her anything. But he did owe his mother everything. He pulled off the silver ring from his finger and closed his fist around it.

"Plagg. I renounce you!" There was a sudden black zoom and the ring changed to black color with paw symbol on it. Adrien then offered the ring to his father.

"Here. If it helps bring mother back... take it." There was complete resignation in his voice. Adrien gave up.

Something in Gabriel's cold heart actually felt some guilt. He didn't want to break Adrien to bring Emilie back. Instead of taking the ring he closed boy's hand around it, cupping it in his own. "No son. I told you I can't do this alone. I want... I need your help. We can bring your mother back together."

"Thank you father. Your trust means the world for me."

——————————————————————————————————–

Taglist (sorry if I missed you)@pheonixashtree @sassakitty @unabashedbookworm @vixen-uchiha @maggiecc12 @actualdisasterwoman @tired-butterfly @shizukiryuu @floralfi @imanerddealwith @northernbluetongue @krispydefendorpolice @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @bluesoulblueheart @theatreandcomicfreak @disneyfoxuniverse @mindfulmagics @alwaysnumberonetruth @nyaabinch @jardimazul @lenamau @rosep16 @dramatic-squirrel @sonif50 @daminett4life @lulutheawkwardess @weird-pale-blonde-person @mooshoon @jeminiikrystal @mochegato @moonlightstar64 @dragonflyswing @silverwhiteraven @shamefullove @magic-miraculous @valeks-princess @heaven428 @mlbchaosqueen @winter-gardenflower @spicybelladonna @emo-elaine13 @vetilora @karukofox21 @my-name-is-michell @sturchling @lokiifriggasonn @redscarlet95 @melicmusicmagic @interobanginyourmom @the-fusionist @razzledazzle247 @miss-mysterys-blog @darkthunder1589 @i-is-mysterious @catthhay @the-one-woman-army @zestyzealot @dahjokester @write-for-your-life2 @mermaidreject @peachedpocky @sassakitty @dahjokester @crazylittlemunchkin

#maribat #maribat au #marinette x damian #order of the guardians #guardian!marinette #redeemed!chloe #evil!adrien #league of assassins #batman #batfam #mlb #mlb x dc #damienette #crossover #miraculous lb #miraculous ladybug #arranged marriage au

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hilarioushilarity · 4 years

Text

(not) lost in translation pt. 2

{I am a lying liar who lies, 2-3 days my ass. You can read Part 1 here.}

The second time Alexei meets Kent Parson is at the All Star weekend that season.

When Mama and Papa had flown back to Russia, Alexei had rapidly realised that he was effectively a thousand miles away from everything he had ever known, and that:

1) Nobody around him spoke Russian; and 2) He couldn't speak English.

Alexei hates English. With a passion. He's not stupid enough to tell anyone this particular fact, but he thinks it every time he sits down for his English classes and wrestles with prepositions and adverbs, or heaven forbid, attempts to conjugate a verb. Every rule had a million exceptions, so what was even the point of the rule? English as a language was just unfair, he had decided, and he tells Mama this over the phone one month in.

She is sympathetic, in her typical Spartan manner. "You'll learn," she tells him. "Practise for at least three hours every day."

Alexei is appalled. "Mama, when am I meant to get three hours of practice each day?"

"There is always time."

He honestly doesn't know what else he expected. "Okay Mama," he says, and then turns the conversation to how stupidly big portion sizes were in America. Criticising the diets of North Americans was always guaranteed to catch her attention.

To his dismay, his father just laughs at him.

"Papa." Alexei may or may not be whining.

"Your Mama told you to just find time, didn't she," he says, when he's finally stopped cackling for long enough to take a breath.

Alexei hangs up on him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Papa says, when he calls back a minute later. The wheezing laughs have stopped, which is a relief.

"Okay," Alexei says warily.

"I mean it." His father is abruptly serious. "I'm sorry for laughing, you're in a tough situation right now. English is not an easy language to learn." They both know that his father never truly gained fluency in it - never had the chance to need it.

"It's really hard, Papa." He doesn't think he's just talking about English anymore.

"Things worth doing usually are, Alyosha," his father says gently.

Alexei chews his lip. "I don't know if I'm doing anything right."

"Are you playing good hockey?" Papa asks.

"Yes, Papa."

"You aren't bullying anyone on the ice?"

"No -"

"Working hard? Doing your English lessons? Going to all your practices on time, practising anything your coach says you need to work on?"

"Yes -"

"Then you are doing it right. And I am proud of you."

His father's voice is warm, and it curls around Alexei. He suddenly, desperately, wishes he could hug his father tightly. "Okay Papa."

"Now go and practice your English," Papa says, and Alexei does.

So hockey is the only thing he has besides torturous English lessons, and he devotes himself to it. He racks up goals and assists every game, plays a clean defensive game, and keeps his stats glowing. English smalltalk remains his nemesis but he's getting there, one pleasantry at a time. Before he knows it, he's being invited to the All Stars Weekend. He dithers over the invite for a few days, until the head of Capitals PR eventually corners him on his way out of the locker rooms.

"You should go," LaRue tells him. "It's good for building up your fanbase." He continues to go on at depth about social media presences and ticket sales. Alexei dutifully nods his way through the lecture, and ends up promising to go just to escape.

For some unknown sin in this life or a past one, he is roomed with a D-man from the Aeros who talks loudly and snores louder than a chainsaw. Alexei realises this on the first night when he lays in bed, staring at the ceiling as the red digits on the bedside clock tick over from 11 to 12, then 1. There's a snore once every three seconds, accompanied by whistling through some gap between teeth. Alexei kills half an hour searching up English sayings to describe snoring and deciding that his roommate "snores like a foghorn" before he finally gives up and rolls out of bed.

The hotel they've been put up in has an indoor gym and swimming pool. Alexei slings on a towel, sneaking out of the room before taking the lift down. On first glance, the gym is deserted, because any sane person is currently asleep. Alexei, running on no sleep, does not qualify.

Except, when he's halfway through his reps on the elliptical, a quiet voice behind him says: "Um. Hi, Alexei?"

Alexei turns around and comes face to face with Kent Parson.

What they are is nebulous at best. More than acquaintances - Kent Parson had talked to his Mama and Papa and his Mama had said Kent was a Very Nice Person. But less than friends, certainly. After the draft, Kent had gone west to the Aces and Alexei had gone east to the Capitals. He hasn't really kept track of Kent's career, but he would have to be under an actual rock to not know Kent is the only other rookie at the All Stars weekend and the NHL's current leading scorer.

"Hello," Alexei replies. There's a drop of sweat slowly rolling down his face and he's painfully aware that he probably stinks a little. Meanwhile Kent Parson looks fresh as a daisy at one in the morning. The limits of his smalltalking abilities in English remain breathtakingly small despite the benefit of six months of English tutoring, so he kind of hopes Kent takes pity on his poor, sweaty form.

Kent does not. "It's been a while. Good to see you."

Goddamnit, they're smalltalking. "Good to see you, too."

Kent looks unbothered at the lack of scintillating conversation. He rolls onto the balls of his feet, fiddling with the strap of the duffel slung over his shoulder. "So uh. How's your mum?" he says, then immediately blanches. "Shit. I didn't mean - I just -"

"Good," Alexei says, mostly to put him out of his misery. "She good."

Kent looks earnest. "Oh, that's really good to hear." And then he seems to waver a bit.

"How is family?" Alexei says, when the silence stretches on. "They come visit after draft?"

"Ah yeah." Kent visibly brightens up. "They did! It was great, we had dinner and hung out a bit, and I gave my sister your mum's autograph - she's so cool by the way, but I bet you already knew that - I'd love to thank her again."

There are just - so many words. Alexei takes a few seconds to work through the sentence. "Glad to hear sister like. Maybe you see Mama again at game with Aces?"

"Definitely," Kent says, and Alexei's heard so many people say that over the past six months, but he thinks this time he could believe it. "So, uh. What's keeping you up?"

Only the loudest snorer on the entire American continent. "Roomie." Alexei searches for the words. "Snoring like foghorn."

Kent winces. "Jeez, I know what you mean. Did you try poking him to get him to roll over?"

"To scared to poke," Alexei admits. "Big guy."

"Who are you rooming with?"

"Winkler?"

"Fuck, yeah, he's a big dude. Better not poke him."

Alexei sighs. "Snore so loud - and whistle too. Like train." At Kent's blank look, he tries: "Choo choo?"

"Choo - oh god, you mean like a steam engine?"

Alexei pulls out his phone in answer. "How spell that? Steam engine?" He dutifully plugs in the letters Kent rattles off, and hits translate. "Oh. Yes. He steam engine."

"Heh," Kent says. "I double dog dare you to say that to him." He must catch the look of utter incomprehension on Alexei's face, because he quickly backtracks. "Not up with the slang yet? Sorry. I meant, you should tell him that."

"But why?" Alexei doesn't want to get punched.

"As a joke," Kent adds hastily. "It's funny, because we know it's stupid so we wouldn't do it."

English was just ridiculous. "Okay," Alexei tries. "Double dog dare you cycle on elliptical, see who faster."

"That's not..." Kent trails off. He smiles, then shakes his head. "That's not how it works. But we'll work on it," he assures Alexei, with a firm pat on his shoulder.

It's worlds away from the way the Caps' coach tends to roll his eyes heavenward when Alexei goes left when he should go right, or his English tutor, who is nice enough but is prone to banging her head against the table a little when Alexei fumbles the conjugation on a verb. "Not now," Alexei says. "Later?"

Kent checks his watch and he actually looks surprised, like the complete lack of other people didn't clue him in. "Wow, it's pretty late, isn't it?"

Unbelievable. "Why you up?"

"Got caught up practising."

Alexei sideeyes him. "Practising?"

Kent flushes a little. "Practising my stick handling. Shooting accuracy."

Alexei can't help but boggle at him. "You practising? At 1AM?"

"I couldn't sleep," Kent says, a little defensively.

"You crazy," Alexei decides, but there's a lot of fondness that must be apparent to even Kent, who looks less offended than he does a mildly grumpy, like the family cat when he accidentally stepped on her tail as a child. "But you wipe ice with everyone, so you champion crazy."

"Damn straight I'm the champion crazy," Kent says, planting his hands on his hips like a dork. "Yeah, laugh it up, I'll definitely be wiping the ice with you."

Alexei pretends to cower. "Okay, Kent Parson, I try best not cry on ice then."

"You will be bawling your eyes out," Kent says with promise, and then looks so affronted when Alexei just doubles over, breathless with laughter.

"I believe you," Alexei says to the ground, from where he's still bent over trying to catch his breath. "Cry many tears."

"You better," Kent says, but then he's laughing helplessly too, dropping his duffel. "Oh god, I really am champion crazy."

Alexei reaches over to pat him on the back. "Is okay, still like, even if Kent Parson practice hockey at one in morning."

"You don't think I'm too crazy?" Perhaps it's meant to be joking, but Alexei can't help but look up sharply.

"Never. You think Crosby best because he slack off?"

"I don't think he's ever stayed up until 1 because he was nervous about All Stars," Kent says, then bites his lip.

"You nervous?" Alexei asks. Kent hesitates. "Why you nervous?"

"I just - it's been a lot," Kent finally says. He's looking to the side, staring at the elliptical. Alexei waits, and Kent says in a rush: "I feel like I have to be the best, or - or else -"

"Not have to say what," Alexei says gently. "Not make you say."

Kent scowls. "It's stupid. Everyone's thinking it, they just don't say it. That I'm the second choice."

At the Draft, Alexei had known vaguely that Kent Parson and another boy called Jack Zimmermann had widely been slated to go first and second - in either order. It was true that every analyst had put the latter in first place, and that when Aces called Kent Parson's name there had been a slight pause in the audience's murmuring. Kent's smile had been strained as he left their table.

Alexei's stood across from Kent on the ice before. He's watched countless hours of tape of the Aces' play and by proxy, of Kent. Kent Parson on the ice is a force of nature, skating circles around defence and sinking pucks into the net as easy as breathing. And in his heart of hearts, he thinks the margin between first and second had been far smaller than most people thought.

But now, under the harsh gym lights that highlight the remaining softness of his jaw and the dark patches beneath his eyes, Alexei realises that Kent's still just a kid. Alexei's just a kid. They're both just teenagers. And there's very little of the player who had breezed past Alexei at the last Caps game with the Aces, or of the player who had mercilessly crushed their four game winning streak without batting an eye. Under the padding and past all the hype, Kent was far from the figure he cut on ice and as vulnerable as any other human.

"Even if people say second choice, what matter?" Alexei says. "You first. You here now. Play well. Maybe bit annoy on ice but not bully. And seem nice, polite to Mama. Thinking of sister even at draft. Get autograph for her. That matter. Not other people."

He hopes he hasn't overdone it - perhaps Kent wasn't looking for a heart-to-heart in the hotel gym at 1AM. But instead of taken aback Kent looks - a little watery.

"Why you cry?" Alexei is horrified.

"I'm not crying," Kent sniffs. "I'm not."

Alexei bites his tongue. "Uh okay." He politely looks away as Kent wipes his eyes.

"I'm not saying I can't cry," Kent begins, which Alexei takes as his cue that it's safe to look back at him. His eyes are just slightest bit red, and even that's only if you know what to look for. “I just try not to cry in front of others.”

"Okay," Alexei says cautiously.

Kent takes a deep breath. "Thank you."

"Welcome," Alexei replies automatically, then says: "But. For what?"

Kent stares at him. "For - listening? For not being an asshole about the fact I'm still some nervy rookie?"

Christ. People thanked each other for things like that in America? "No need thank," Alexei says. Then, desperate to change the subject, he adds: "So we agree! No need for nervous! You real KVP."

"The what?"

"KVP." Alexei gestures. "I see on Twitter - they calling you 'the Real KVP'".

"That's not - " Kent splutters. "That's my name, Alexei."

Alexei tries not wince. "Oh. Oops, sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" Kent brings out his phone, thumbing at something on the screen. He eventually holds out his phone, open to a websearch. "See? It's a joke on MVP. That's 'Most Valuable Player'."

"Oh," Alexei says again. "Make sense. Sometimes miss reference - thank you for explaining."

Kent stows away his phone, corners of his mouth twitching upwards again. "You've only been in the US for what, six months? Your English is great. If you put me in Russia I would probably just turn around and go back to the US."

"You miss good food then," Alexei tuts. "Russian food is best food."

"Hell no, I've seen what you guys count as soup. I'm not touching borscht with a ten-foot pole."

"Borscht is best soup!" Alexei tries to sound outraged.

"Look man, all I'm saying is that anything that pink should not be eaten."

Blasphemy. "You try pirozhki then? Small, baked -" He gropes around for the word, then gives up and calls up the translator app on his phone. "Dumpling."

"I've never had that," Kent says, but he at least looks intrigued. "What did you call it? Pay-roz-kay?"

His accent is actually appalling. "Pirozhki," Alexei corrects.

Kent frowns. "Poe-roz-ki?"

"Pirozhki"

"Poh-rosh-ki?"

Alexei nods in approval. "Good, sounds good."

"I like the sound of baked dumplings," Kent says. "Mm. Pirozkhi. I might go see if there's any places that do it in Vegas."

"Let me know if yes." Alexei nudges him. "I come try when Caps play Aces."

"You got it."

Alexei cuts off any further conversation with the embarrassingly loud yawn that escapes him then.

"Shit, it's like 1:30AM." Kent winces. "We have to get up at like 7 tomorrow - today? Holy crap we better go to sleep."

Alexei levers himself up, gathering his towel and bottle. "Hope not fall asleep on skates tomorrow."

"How about I check you if I see you dropping off," Kent suggests, then snickers at Alexei's raised eyebrow. "Bad idea?"

"Sure can check me?" Alexei makes a show of looking Kent up and down. He holds his index finger and thumb about ten centimetres apart. "So small."

"You asshole," Kent says, but he's laughing. "I'm not short, you're just a giant."

"If say so," Alexei shrugs. They start towards the elevator banks. "If help sleep at night."

"Fuck you, I sleep really well at night," Kent says petulantly. Alexei eyes the shadows beneath his eyes.

"I believe, I believe," he says instead with his best shit-eating grin. They get in the lift. "Okay, floor?"

Kent reaches over and pushes the button for 15. "You?"

"Twelve. Thank you." Kent nods, and they start moving up.

"So see you tomorrow, yes?"

"Yeah." Kent shoulders his duffel a little more firmly. "Be prepared to cry like a baby."

Alexei flaps his hands, just as the lift doors open on his floor. "Yeah, yeah, I cry so much."

The smile Kent gives him is small, but very real. "Good night Alexei."

"Good night," Alexei says, stepping out and turning to wave goodbye. The doors shut on Kent's smile, and Alexei stands there for a second, the airconditioning cool against his slightly sweaty neck.

"Hopefully not cry too much," he says to himself, before heading back to his room.

#kent parson #alexei mashkov #(not) lost in translation #patater #capichewrites

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didntwanderstillgotlost · 4 years

Text

Winchesters and Angels (and God)

I’m gonna apologize in advance for the absolute trainwreck that is this fic. @malvenue and I spent 3 hours yesterday morning texting each other this mess and I decided I had to turn it into a fic and inflict it on the rest of you. So, here’s some Destiel and Sabriel crack. Enjoy!

Gabriel popped into the bunker and found Sam sitting at one of the tables in the library. He sat down in the chair across from him.

“Hey, Sammy. Did you know I have PTSD?” He couldn’t hide the shit eating grin on his face, but it didn’t matter because, without looking up from the book he was reading, Sam said,

“Don’t we all.” Gabriel’s face fell.

“Oh. Are you okay? Do you wanna talk about it? Do you need a hug?” He grinned again. “I could probably cure it with some CBT.” That got Sam to look up.

“Cognitive behavioral therapy?”

“Cock and ball torture.” Sam coughed.

“I’M NOT EVEN INTO THAT, GABE!”

“I’m just saying things until you say yes to something.”

“JUST GIVE ME A HUG YOU FREAK!”

“Oh. Okay, sure, we can do that.” Gabriel stood up and wrapped himself around Sam. “So, you want me to suck you off now or--.”

“GABE, I SWEAR TO GOD!”

“You called?” Jack asked, causing both of them to jump. Gabriel was grinning again.

“Yeah, I was just telling Sammy that--.”

“GABRIEL, HE IS THREE!” Across the room, Dean leaned closer to Cas and said,

“How come you know exactly what I want, but Gabe can’t figure Sammy out?”

“He didn’t get to fondle Sam’s soul like I did with yours,” Cas responded matter of factly. Dean choked.

“YOU WHAT!?”

“I just hugged your soul with my whole true form to protect it from Hell’s flames and demons. I did try to just grip your shoulder but I was afraid I’d drop you.”

“CAN EVERYONE PLEASE LEAVE!?” Sam shouted. Dean stood up and took Cas’s hand, leading him out of the room.

“Did you really scream that loudly when you saved me that you woke Anna up from her angel coma?”

“I was very happy. You were so pretty. You still are butIi never got to cuddle a human soul before and the first one was the most beautiful one.” Dean felt a blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Yeah, okay, buddy.”

“I can still hear you!” Sam complained. “Go away! Gabe, stop touching me!”

“Sammy, you make it sound bad. I was just gently caressing your cheek.”

“MY ASSCHEEK!”

“Still a cheek!”

“How did this become my life?” Jack tilted his head, much like Cas.

“Is that something norm--.” Cas pulled away from Dean’s grip and stormed back into the library.

“No, son, cover your eyes.”

“GABE, I TOLD YOU, HE’S THREE!” Sam cried.

“Sammy, just give the guy a chance,” Dean said. “Also, he was two when he wanted to fuck that crazy chick on that one case.”

“Yeah, you still didn’t tell me about se--.”

“THIS HOUSE IS A FUCKING NIGHTMARE!” Sam was sounding more and more distressed by the second. Gabriel grinned.

“I can teach you about sex! Come on, Jack!”

“Gabriel, I don’t think that’s appropriate,” Cas said.

“Babe, relax, it can’t be that bad.”

“Dean, I’ve seen Gabriel do some very disturbing things involving various plastic objects and--.”

“ENOUGH!” Sam snapped. “Jack, I’ll tell you, okay? Just please stop guys.” Gabriel smirked.

“Come on Sam! I thought you liked when I--.”

“STOP!” Dean grinned.

“Wow, Sammy, you really--.”

“NO!” Jack looked between all of them, utter confusion written all over his face.

“You totally do!” Dean crowed. San narrowed his eyes.

“Oh yeah? Well have you told Cas about that time in the backseat of the Impala?” Dean stopped laughing immediately.

“Do. Not.”

“I am a celestial being, Sam, and I used to watch over Dean almost all the time,” Cas said and Dean’s eyes widened. “Which time are you referring to?” Sam mirrored Dean’s expression.

“I WAS MORE THAN ONCE?”

“Well, it was--.”

“CAS, NO!” Dean interrupted. “Don’t. And what do you mean almost all the time?” Cas shrugged.

“I just wanted to make sure you were safe.”

“What could happen to me during sex, Cas?”

“Heart failure? Muscle cramps?” Dean had to admit, that was a point.

“Okay, but you didn’t have to watch.”

“I didn’t want you with Anna.”

“CAS!” Cas looked at him and Dean’s heart almost broke at the pain in his eyes.

“That was very painful for me.” Dean swallowed.

“Fuck, Cas, I--. You know I love you, right? I didn't realize back then. I'm so sorry. I'm a complete asshole. I promise I love you.” Cas smiled softly.

“It’s okay, Dean, I know.”

“I am GOING TO BE SICK!” Sam said. Gabriel pretended to wipe his eyes with a tissue from a box he pulled out of nowhere.

“My little brother has grown up so much.” Jack spoke up, clearly still confused.

“Dean and Cas weren’t always together?” Everyone turned to look at him. Dean frowned slightly.

“Why would you think we were?”

“BECAUSE WE ALL HAVE EYES!” Sam yelled. “Oh, here we go again. YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE SO SNEAKY DIDN’T YOU DEAN? With all the longing looks and careful touches and mixtapes and--.”

“Shut up, Sammy,” Dean muttered.

“AND THE PRAYERS, OH MY GOD!”

“Yes, Sam?” Jack said. “I’m right here. Anyway I could always see Cas’s wings around Dean when they were in the same room.”

“WHAT?” Dean turned to Cas, who only shrugged.

“It’s not my fault you can’t see my true form. I had to make sure you were comfortable and safe.”

“Even now?” Jack asked. Sam turned to Gabriel.

“Keep your wings away from me, Gabe.”

“Actually, he--,” Jack started.

“OF COURSE, SAMMY!” Gabriel interrupted loudly.

“Someone please just kill me,” Sam said. “Just end this.”

“Sammy, come on a little wing petting never killed anyone,” Dean said.

“I WISH IT DID!”

“If you died, you’d go to Heaven,” Jack stated.

“No one really dies in this family anyway,” Dean pointed out.

“Fuck you,” Sam grumbled.

“Me?” Gabriel asked.

“You know what?” Sam snapped. “If it shuts you up, YES!” Gabriel grinned.

“FUCK YEAH, I WIN!”

“Sound proof your damn room, Sammy,” Dean said.

“Gabriel can do that for him like I did for--.”

“CAS!” Cas frowned.

“What? You said “Don’t break the walls with your angel voice and don’t let Sam hear me wh--.”

“CAS, DAMMIT!” Sam smirked

“You whimper? Awe, Dean, that’s kinda sweet.”

“That’s NOT what he was going to say. Right, Cas?” Dean shot Cas a desperate look.

“No. Of course not. He, uh, whines?” Dean hung his head.

“On second thought, kill me, too.”

“Sorry, Dean, no one really dies in this family,” Sam said with a grin. “Come on, Gabe.” Gabriel’s eyes glowed a little as he followed Sam down the hall. Jack looked at Dean and Cas.

“So…it’s all okay here?”

“Of course, Jack, why do you ask?” Cas asked.

“You all call me at least 56 times every day,” Jack said. Cas chuckled.

“Abuse of human language.”

“Cas, I cannot BELIEVE--,” Dean started.

“Sounds like conflict,” Jack said. “Bye, Dad!” He waved at Cas and disappeared.

“Dean, why are you upset?

“YOU DON’T TELL PEOPLE, ESPECIALLY NOT SAM, WHAT I DO DURING SEX! Unless it’s something absolutely awesome.”

“But you sound beautiful to me so that must mean that it’s awesome too.”

“Buddy…” Dean could feel himself blushing again. “Just don’t talk about that with anyone else, okay?” Cas paused a little too long.

“Okay.”

“WHO ELSE DID YOU TELL?”

“No one, I just…” Cas faltered.

“WHAT?” Dean watched a few tears slip down Cas’s cheeks.

“You’re just so loving that you sometimes can’t speak so you whimper and it’s just…it’s so beautiful, Dean.” Before Dean could even begin to process how to respond to that, Sam shouted from across the bunker,

“GABE, DON’T DO THAT!” Dean paled.

“Cas, please soundproof their room.”

“GABE, HOLY FUCK!” That was followed by some incomprehensible yelling.

“CAS, NOW!” Cas frowned slightly.

“They’re not in a room.”

“WHAT?”

“They’re…in the hallway.”

“SAMMY, I WILL KICK YOUR ASS IF YOU DON’T GO THE FUCK TO YOUR DAMN ROOM!” Dean yelled. Across the bunker, Sam looked at Gabriel.

“Does he think we're having sex?”

“I mean, I could make you sound like that if you let me,” Gabriel said with a wink.

“GABE NO!”

“SAMMY, I SWEAR TO GOD!” Dean shouted and Sam dragged Gabriel back to the library. Jack popped up in the middle of the room.

“I just left, what now?

“Abuse of language, it’s okay,” Cas said. “We’ll say Jack if we need you, okay?”

“Oh, okay.” Jack disappeared again.

“Your kid takes things too literally doesn’t he?” Gabriel said.

“He did say Cas is his dad first thing,” Sam agreed. Dean studied his brother.

“Sammy, the FUCK were you yelling about? Are you hurt or something?”

“I can’t seem to find any injury,” Cas said. “I just get the sense that--.” Sam cleared his throat loudly.

“No, Cas, please continue,” Dean said.

“No, actually, I should go to my--,” Sam tried to deflect.

“Sam seems to be extremely aroused,” Cas said.

“I’m an angel, Sammy, I told you I can tell,” Gabriel said. Dean smirked.

“Awe, Sammy, that’s kinda sweet.”

“GABE, CAN YOU WAIT TILL WE GET TO MY ROOM THEN?”

“I didn’t do anything, Sam,” Gabriel said with a wink

“Gabriel did you just use your grace to--.”

“Shut UP, DEAN!” Sam yelled as Dean started laughing.

“Gabriel, it’s actually very nice of Sam to let you do that because Dean doe--.” Dean stopped laughing abruptly.

“CAS!”

“What?”

“What did we just talk about?”

“This wasn’t related to your s-.”

“NO TALK ABOUT ANYTHING WE DO ALONE, OKAY!”

“Come on, Dean, a little grace never killed anyone,” Sam teased.

“Sam, I will kick your ass.”

“Don’t bruise it,” Gabriel said. “He has a nice ass.”

“Gabe, I swear to--,” Sam started

“Stop calling Jack,” Cas said.

“You know, Gabe, I think Sammy here would love you to bruise him a little.”

“DEAN!” Dean grinned.

“And I’m sure he would absolutely melt if you bite him a bit too.”

“DEAN, I WILL MURDER YOU!”

“I don’t hear you denying it,” Gabriel pointed out.

“No you won’t, Sam,” Cas said.

“Dean, continue, I’m memorizing,” Gabriel said.

“If I remember correctly, he also really loves when people lick his-.”

“DEAN WEARS PANTIES!” Sam yelled. Dean rolled his eyes. That wasn’t much of a secret anymore. So, of course, Cas had to open his mouth.

“Well, actually--.”

“CAS!”

“What now?”

“No talk about my underwe--.”

“No, no, Cas, please continue,” Sam interrupted.

“Since you didn’t let Dean finish I’ll just lick all of Sam till I figure out what he wanted to say,” Gabriel said.

“NO ONE IS LICKING ME!”

“Sam is aroused again,” Cas commented.

“CAS!” Sam whined.

“Why is everyone yelling at me?”

“Not me little bro. Not me,” Gabriel said.

“Yeah, but you never yell,” Dean pointed out.

“Yes, I do,” Cas said.

“NOT YOU, CAS!”

“I bet Sammy could make me scream,” Gabriel said with a wink.

“Just make sure to protect the room,” Cas said. “You will break everything if you--.”

“If you break ANYTHING with you weird angel shit I SWEAR TO--.”

“Don’t call Jack. Please,” Cas begged. “He doesn’t like conflicts.”

“I wonder where he gets it from,” Dean teased. Cas tilted his head.

“Me, of course.” Dean just shook his head with a fond smile. They stared at each other and Dean could feel himself getting lost in the endless sea of blue.

“Here we go again,” Sam muttered, rolling his eyes.

“I thought they’d stop doing that once they--.”

“Well, no such luck apparently.” Gabriel shrugged.

“Guess eye fucking is easier.”

“GABE!”

“I am not having any kind of intercourse with my eyes,” Cas said, breaking eye contact. “I just stare deep into Dean’s soul and--.”

“Cas, please, not now,” Dean said, blushing furiously. Cas squinted at him.

“You know what, Dean? Why don’t you just tell me when I’m allowed to speak.”

“Wow, Dean, I knew you were an asshole but really?” Sam said. Dean ignored his brother.

“Wait, no, Cas I’m sorry.” Cas just stared at him, looking like a kicked puppy.

“Damn, bro, you really fucked up,” Sam said.

“Sam, shut up! Cas, look, let’s just go to our room and--.”

“‘Our room’. Wow, congrats guys!”

“Sam, SHUT UP!”

“Sammy, does that mean your room is our room now?” Gabriel asked.

“No, Gabe! We are not a couple!” Gabriel mirrored Cas’s expression.

“Damn, bro, you really fucked up,” Dean smirked. Sam rolled his eyes.

“That won’t work on me, Gabe. We are not a couple.” Gabriel shed a single tear. “Not gonna work. You’re not my type.” Gabriel turned to his brother.

“Cassie, come on! How do you do it?”

“Well, you’re at the beginning, so you could try showing the shadow of your wings and breaking some glass. Maybe let him stab you.”

“THAT WAS NOT FLIRTING!” Dean insisted

“Of course it was,” Cas said.

“I was trying to kill you!

“Well, I was trying to prove I was strong because I know you want to be protec--.”

“CAS!”

“Right. I forgot I’m not allowed to talk unless you tell me to.”

“Awe, Dean, are you a little spoon?” Sam asked.

“Yes,” Cas answered.

“CAS!”

“So, you don’t want to be anymore?” Cas asked. Dean closed his eyes for a moment.

“Cas, please stop.”

“Sammy, you can be whatever spoon you want,” Gabriel said.

“Still not into you.”

“I bet Sammy’s a big spoon because he’s a control freak,” Dean said.

“Also, even Cas said you’re aroused when I talk to you so you’re lying, Sammy,” Gabriel pointed out. He turned to Dean. “Also, Dean, that’s sizest. I can be a big spoon!”

“Gabriel’s true form is quite large indeed,” Cas said.

“It’s not sizest! Cas is shorter than me!”

“SO YOU ADMIT IT!” Sam yelled.

“YEAH, I ADMIT THAT YOU’RE A LITTLE BITCH!” Dean shot back.

“Sam is not a female dog,” Cas said. Dean sighed.

“Cas, don’t do that.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot to shut up.”

“The only one who should shut up is SAM!”

“Now listen here you jerk--.”

“Oh, Sammy, you’re so cute when you’re angry,” Gabriel said.

“Gabriel, I swear I will fucking gag you.”

“Oh, PLEASE DO!” Sam groaned

“Sam, I don’t think you’re gonna win here,” Dean said.

“Sam is aroused again,” Cas stated. Dean grinned.

“Cas, did I tell you how much I love to hear you speak?” He turned to Gabe. “I told you Sam is a control freak.”

“I have no problem with that.”

“You can all go straight to hell,” Sam muttered.

“We’ve all been there, Sam,” everyone else said at once.

“Hey, Sammy, what were you planning on gagging me with?” Gabriel asked.

“Keep talking and you’ll find out,” Sam threatened.

“If I can choose, please gag me with your--.”

“Gross, Gabe!” Dean complained.

“But, Dean--,” Cas started.

“CAS, NO!”

“One moment I’m not allowed to talk, then you love it when I speak. Make up your mind please.” Dean pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You know what? I'm done with this. I'm going to bed.” He turned to leave. Cas, you’re coming with.”

“It’s 4:30 in the afternoon,” Sam said.

“Never said we were gonna sleep, Sammy,” Dean said with a grin and a wink. Cas’s eyes started glowing a little. Dean grabbed his arm. “Come on, buddy.” They left the room and Gabriel looked at Sam.

“So, big guy, how much do I have to talk to get to choke on your--.” Sam grabbed Gabriel’s arm.

“COME ON THEN!” Gabriel grinned.

“Yay, I win!”

#Destiel #Sabriel #crack fic #Jack is God

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