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es-kay-zee · 4 years ago

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Backseat | Lee Know x Reader

genre: absolutely filthy smut

warnings: brat tamer! idol, sub! reader, afab reader, masturbation, choking, hair pulling, marking, handcuffs, pet names, degradation, praise (brief), humiliation, swearing, overstimulation, impact play, oral sex, interfemoral sex, fingering, use of the colour system. this is written under the assumption that all kinky acts performed have been discussed many times prior. consent is important and limits should always be discussed with any partner

requested: nope, this came from my own perverted mind

word count: 5.1k

taglist: @bxngchxn @jisungsplatforms @etherealeeknow

a/n: welp, i definitely went overboard on this. count this as my apology for the angst lately. this is absolutely disgusting filth and i hope you enjoy :) this also isn’t proofread (i say like i’ve proofread anything i’ve written) so if you see any mistakes feel free to let me know and i’ll fix it :) also i was kidding when i said i'd finish this at 5am but it's literally 5.03am so that's a bit funny lol

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To say you were annoyed with Minho would be only somewhat accurate. Frustrated was probably a better word. He’d been teasing you the entire time you were both out for dinner with your parents, spending a large portion of the time with his hand resting on your inner thigh. His touch had you on edge all night, especially when his fingers would occasionally migrate upwards, slowly stroking at your clothed sex.

He always seemed to do it while you were talking, catching you off guard each and every time. More than once your voice was cut off with a quiet whine and you had to come up with some excuse to your parents. You’re not sure how much they actually believed your measly excuses, but they didn’t question you further, probably not wanting to know what their child was actually up to.

Once dinner is over, and you’ve said goodbye to your parents, you and Minho head towards his car. You don’t speak to him the entire way, frustrated with him for having the audacity to tease you in front of your family. You weren’t truly upset with him, and he was aware of this. You were just embarrassed.

Finally reaching the car, Minho unlocks it and opens the passengers-side door, holding it open for you. But you weren’t about to ignore his earlier actions, wanting to play on your annoyance for one end goal in mind; being pounded into the mattress when you get home. And so, choosing your first act of defiance, you step past Minho and get into the backseat, slamming the car door behind you.

Minho huffs, rolling his eyes at your childish move. He closes the passenger door, walking around the car and climbing into the driver’s seat. The engine rumbles to life and Minho pulls out of the car park, beginning the 30 minute drive to your shared home.

You sit in silence, ignoring the glances from Minho in the rear-view mirror. It’s obvious that your act of climbing into the backseat has irked him, but you want to continue winding him up further. A devilish idea pops into your mind; the perfect way to tease him in return. You finally look forwards, making eye contact with Minho’s reflection. You smirk at him, and his eyebrows knit together in confusion, wondering what you’re planning to do.

You don’t leave him wondering for too long, propping one of your legs up on the car seat next to you, dress rising and putting your underwear clad pussy on display for Minho to see. You watch as his eyes flick downwards, quickly looking back up as he realises what you’re about to do.

“Don’t you dare. You know the rules,” he warns, his voice dark and threatening.

All his words achieve is making you needier. You say nothing, just continuing to stare at Minho in the mirror, as you bring one of your hands down, using your middle finger to rub circles against your clit. The small touch has you whining, the combination of Minho’s earlier teasing and the tense atmosphere in the car mixing to make you extra sensitive.

Your breathing slowly begins to pick up as your arousal grows, beginning to soak through the flimsy fabric of your lacy underwear. Your other hand comes up to your breast, groping yourself over your dress. Minho watches your brazen display, making sure to keep a watch on the road in front of him as well. You partly expect him to speed up, rushing to get you home and teach you a lesson, but he doesn’t. He stays steadily at the speed limit, not even once going over. He wants to drag this out. He wants to see just how far you’ll go with your little act.

And you’re more than willing to show him.

You slide your underwear to the side, quickly sliding one of your digits into your slick walls. Minho adjusts his rear-view mirror, positioning it to where he has a good view of your lower half. He watches the way you pump your fingers in and out of your pussy, curling the digits against your sweet spot. You exaggerate your moans, knowing how much Minho loves to hear you. And all you want is to get him as worked up as he made you.

The hand working on your breast slides down the front of your dress, and you pinch one of your buds, tugging gently before pulling your hand away and sliding it down to your clit. You press the pad of your middle finger against the nub, rubbing against it just as you were before while your other handworks your core. The combined simulation has you nearing your peak, your body beginning to tingle in just the way that it does when you’re close.

Minho swallows, trying to supress his groans at your actions. Your moans rise in pitch, turning into desperate whines as you try to push yourself over that edge and into bliss. You rub faster against your clit, but what is the true catalyst for your release, is the moment you make eye contact with Minho again. His eyes are dark, darker than you’ve ever seen before. And they hold a conflicting look, simultaneously begging to see you cum on your own fingers and warning you to stop breaking the rules.

The moment your eyes meet his in that mirror, you cum, body shaking as you continue fingering yourself through your orgasm, riding out your own high. You only pull your fingers from your fluttering walls once you’ve stopped trembling with pleasure, your body falling slump against the seat. Your heavy pants are the only sound in the car as you recover from your orgasm.

Another thought pops into your head. You’ve already come this far, what’s one more daring act? You bring your slick coated fingers to your lips, staring down Minho as you suck on them. Your tongue dances around your digits as you clean them of all of your juices. Only once your fingers are clean, do you pull them from your lips with a dull pop.

You pull your attention away from Minho, instead facing the window. Your breath hitches as you realise you’re only a few streets away from your shared home. The knowledge that punishment for your daring actions is only minutes away fills you with an excited fear, your pussy already trying clench around nothing.

Minho remains silent, no longer looking in your direction at all as he rounds the final corner before pulling into the driveway. He turns the car off, still not saying anything as he climbs out of the vehicle. He opens your door for you. Part of you want to remain defiant and exit via the other rear door, but you know better. You’ve pushed things far enough. You climb out the door that he’s holding open, swallowing dryly when he closes it gently. His actions are calm, too calm, and your mind whirls with the possibilities of what he has in store for you.

He locks the car and you both walk towards the house. You’re expecting him to do something as soon as the front door closes behind you both, but he doesn’t. He’s still too calm. He hangs the keys up on the key hook and takes his shoes off. You take yours off as well, watching him the entire time for any hint of what’s to come. You get nothing.

He starts to make his way upstairs towards your shared bedroom, and you know to follow him without him even saying or signalling for you to. The walk to the bedroom feels as if it drags on for hours, your heart drumming loudly in your ears, the sound of Minho’s footsteps seemingly echoing off the walls around you. Your hands grow clammy as the nerves truly set in, but more than nervous, you feel excited. This is exactly what you wanted. You wanted the rush that being a brat provides, pushing all the right buttons to get exactly what you want from Minho. It’s been too long since you’ve been absolutely used, and you’re more than ready for the fun that’s about to ensue.

Minho walks into the bedroom, you trailing closely behind. He stops at the door and you step past him. He closes the door, something he doesn’t normally do, and you know you’re in for the time of your life.

“Strip.”

The sound of his voice startles you, the nerves having you on edge. You stare at Minho for a moment, eyes wide while your brain process what he said.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Authoritative. That’s the best word to describe the tone of his voice. Strong, commanding, it leaves no room for arguing, and you find yourself doing exactly as told. Even as your dress hits the floor, lacy lingerie joining it, Minho still doesn’t look at you. Instead, he’s busy rolling the sleeves of his dress shirt up. His movements are languid, lazy, he’s taking his sweet time getting to you.

You sit yourself down on the edge of the bed with a huff, impatience getting the better of you. Even the view of Minho’s exposed forearms isn’t enough to keep complacent for a moment longer, and the sound of your huff is what finally makes him look at you for the first time since you orgasmed in the car.

His eyes are dark again, and it’s as if they bore into your very soul. He takes a step towards your sitting figure, unbuttoning one of his top buttons. If you were to ask him why he undid the button, he’d say it was to allow himself some more breathing room. But you both knew that the real answer is that it’s for show.

He stands directly in front of you and reaches one hand towards you. You flinch back slightly, not knowing what to expect after earlier events. He pauses, waiting for you to move back forwards, and it’s only when you do that he continues moving. He places his hand on the top of your head, gently stroking your hair.

The tug is unexpected. He waits just long enough for you let your guard down before he grabs a fist full of your hair and pulls. Hard. Your scalp stings, but you love it. The yank draws a whimper from your lips, and Minho smirks almost evilly at the sound. He holds you by your hair, head tilted backwards as he stares you in the eye.

“I wonder what I’m going to do with a whore like you,” he says, voiced laced with something akin to feigned sympathy. Pretending to be sorry for you over the punishment that’s instore for you.

“No, you don’t,” you reply, both of you knowing full well that he’s not wondering at all. He has plans for what to do with you, he’d had almost the entire car ride to plan.

“You’re right,” he admits. A small chuckle leaves his pretty lips as he still stares down at you. “Now get up.”

He releases your hair, and you slowly stand up. He switches places with you, sitting himself where you previously were while you stand before him. He taps his thigh with his index finger, and you know what he’s telling you to do. You straddle the toned muscle, lowering your hips until your pussy is resting against the fabric of his pants.

Your hands rest upon Minho’s shoulders while he leans backwards, his arms propping his body upright. You stay still, waiting for his go-ahead before you start grinding against his thigh. He doesn’t give it. Instead, he attaches his lips to the column of your throat, sucking harshly. He drags his teeth against your skin, making you shiver at the sensation. Only when the entire expanse of your throat and chest is covered in marks does he give you the nod to start riding his thigh.

The first drag of your hips has your body shuddering, the pressure against your clit delicious. None of the following grinds feels as good as the initial one, they feel great but it’s just not quite as electrifying. Minho leans forward, bringing one of his hands up to your face. He prods at your lips, prompting you to part them. He slides his index and middle fingers into your mouth, reaching as far back as he can and pressing down on your tongue, aggravating your gag reflex.

You choke on his fingers and all he does is chuckle, sliding his fingers out of your mouth. He moves his hand down, wrapping it around your throat and squeezing. The restriction to your airflow is euphoric, it drives you closer to your release. You adjust your leg, and your knee lightly grazes Minho’s bulge.

Your eyes widen slightly, it hadn’t considered just how hard your actions would make him. He hisses quietly at the accidental contact and you smirk. You know you shouldn’t do it, but what can you say? It’s too much fun being a brat. One of your hand moves south, cupping Minho’s constricted cock. He snaps. His other hand comes up and all you can register is the sting of your cheek seconds after his palm strikes against it. You’re still in slight shock when his grip on your throat tightens and he pushes your body away, forcing you off of him, only releasing your throat once you’ve slipped out of reach.

“Now you’ve broken the number 1 and number 2 rule.” The look in his eyes is lethal, you’ve broken the two most important rules all in one night. That’s a first. Usually, you could eventually persuade Minho to give in to what you want despite being a brat, but you had a chilling feeling that you wouldn’t get your way this time. “Kneel.”

Not wanting to make things worse for yourself, you drop to your knees. You feel small, Minho leaning over you making you feel like his prey. And you absolutely loved it. He grabs your chin between his index finger and thumb, tilting your face up towards him as he leans in close to your face.

“I’m gonna make you wish you were never a brat.”

The words seep into your core, his voice laced with a sweet poison and you know; you have to be good from here on out. It’s not often that just a sentence alone can stop your bratty behaviour for the night, but the way he says the words is nothing short of a warning that you’re not going to get what you want.

“But first, you made a mess on my pants,” he lets go of your chin, allowing you to look down and see the wet patch that your slick left behind on the fabric. “And you’re gonna clean it up.”

Your eyes shoot back upwards to look Minho in the face, unsure of exactly what he means. And he chuckles sinisterly at your confusion, absolutely loving that you don’t know what’s coming.

“Lick it clean.”

Your face immediately begins to burn as the realisation of what he said sets in. He wants you to lick your juices from his pants. You both know that your slick has soaked into the fabric and that you licking it will only cause a bigger mess, but that’s not what this is about. Minho wants to humiliate you. He wants you to be ashamed, for your face to burn in embarrassment as you do something so dirty as licking the mess you created from his pants.

And it’s working.

You’re slow to move closer to him, balancing yourself on your knees with one hand on his clean thigh and the other on the bed next to his other leg. You look Minho in the eye, silently begging him to not make you do something so humiliating, all he does in response is place a hand on the back of your head and roughly push your face closer to the mess. He doesn’t let go until your tongue is pressing flat against his pants, licking a stipe up the pre-existing wet patch. It’s faint, the taste of yourself, but the filthiness of the act has you moaning. You try to keep quiet, not wanting the further embarrassment, but Minho already heard you.

“Pathetic,” he spits out, and you moan again at the degradation.

You continue licking at his pants, and it’s not long before all you can taste is the fabric itself. Minho doesn’t care, however, as he doesn’t signal for you to stop. He’s thriving off of this, you can tell from the twitch of his bulge that he’s loving the sight in front of him. He lets you continue for a few more moments, before pulling your face away by your hair.

“Get on the bed,” he orders, and you do just that, scrambling to your feet and climbing on the bed.

You lie in the middle, your head resting against the pillows as you watch Minho stand up. He crawls up the bed until he’s hovering over you, and you feel so small under him. You’re caged between his arms but there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. You don’t think, just wanting to get this show on the road. You reach up, grasping one of his shirt’s buttons in your fingers. Minho is quick to react, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head.

“You don’t fucking learn, do you?” He holds your wrists together with one hand, his grip none too gentle, as he glares down at you. You can’t help but cower under his glare, making you feel even smaller.

Without letting go, he leans over to his bedside table, opening the draw and reaching into it. You’re too busy staring at his face to register what he’s retrieving, but when you feel the cold metal and hear the steady clicking sounds of the cuffs closing around your wrists, your attention snaps above your head. He cuffs one wrist, sliding the connecting chain around the metal bar at the head of the bed before cuffing your other wrist.

You tug against the restraint, testing the limits of your reach. The way the metal digs into your skin makes you whimper, but you love it. Minho slowly runs his hands down your sides, groping at your thighs. His fingertips leave goosebumps in their wake, making you shiver in anticipation. He slowly moves his body down your own, until his face is right in front of your dripping core.

He places sloppy kisses to the insides of your thighs, occasionally sucking harshly on the skin before continuing kissing. You moan at the feeling, wanting to tangle your fingers in his hair and bring his lips to your clit. But you can’t. You’re subjected to Minho’s unwavering patience as you’re squirming under him. A harsh smack to the flesh of your inner thigh has you stilling, the small burn of the contact causing you to clench around nothing.

“Stop moving.” He goes back to his teasing touches, and you struggle to remain still. The tension in your lower half building to an almost unmanageable extreme.

“P-please.” The beg leaves your lips before you can stop yourself, and you can feel Minho’s smirk against your skin.

“Please what? What do you want me to do?”

“Please make me c-cum,” you whisper, completely embarrassed to be begging for anything from Minho. You expect him to laugh at you, to tell you that you’re not going to be cumming at all tonight as your punishment for acting up. But he doesn’t. He says something worse.

“Don’t worry, kitten. You’ll get to cum soon enough.”

It’s the way he says it and you finally know what he has planned. Overstimulation. Overstimulation isn’t one of your favourite things. You didn’t particularly love it, nor did you hate it. You and Minho had had the conversation a few times about what sort of punishments are allowed. Overstimulation had come up a couple times as something that you don’t love but can tolerate enough to allow as a punishment. He’d asked you a few times if you were sure, wanting confirmation that you weren’t going to allow something that you didn’t want. You’d assured him, saying that you liked it enough that you’ll let him do it on occasion.

That’s probably why he chose this particular punishment. You’ve been a major brat and while it’s got to be something you at least enjoy; it’s still meant to be a punishment.

There’s no warning before his lips attach to your clit, immediately sucking harshly against the nub. Your hands immediately try to grip his hair, but they can’t. You whine, trying desperately not to buck your hips up further into Minho’s face as he licks and sucks at your folds.

The metal digs further into your skin, uncomfortable, barely bordering on painful, but still entirely tolerable. It doesn’t take long. In fact, it’s embarrassing just how quickly he brings you to the brink of pleasure, dangling over the precipice’s edge, ready to tumble over into your second orgasm of the day. Minho keeps you there, dangling off that ledge just because he can. It’s one of his favourite things to do, to make that knot in your stomach tighten impossibly tight but not give you enough to let it unravel.

He’d done this to you so many times, he’s almost perfected his technique. Applying pressure that’s a fraction too soft in a spot that’s a fraction off from exactly where you need it. He loves toying with you, seeing just how far he can push you before letting you cum.

The bedroom is noisy, filled with the clank of the handcuffs’ chain against the metal bedframe, your desperate moans and Minho’s tongue lapping at your dripping folds. All the combined sounds mix together to create a filthy concoction that truly adds to the vibe of the night’s events. It’s arousing. But the only sound you can focus on is your heartbeat thrumming in your ears as Minho finally pushes you over the edge, allowing you to cum. Your eyes squeeze shut, and your body convulses with the pleasure, your orgasm more intense than any you could provide yourself.

Minho’s mouth doesn’t let up, not even after you’ve finally come back down from your high. The tingles of pain brought about by the overstimulation are almost overwhelming, but you don’t want to stop. You’re enjoying this more than you thought you would. But there’s no way you’ll tell Minho that; he’d never wipe the smirk off his face if you did.

He keeps going, adding his fingers to work your walls alongside his mouth. Your back arches, your body non-stop shaking, and by your fourth orgasm, there’s nothing you can do to stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks. Minho looks up at your face, noting the fucked out expression and tear stains, and pauses.

“Colour?” he asks, voice soft and gentle for the first time since dinner.

Your brain is foggy, clouded over as you try to think, contemplating what to respond.

“Y-yellow,” you say, deciding it’s better to give yourself a moment for your brain to clear.

Minho pulls his fingers from your core in response, placing sweet kisses along your thighs, his hands rubbing your sides soothingly while he waits for your go-ahead to continue. It’s a couple minutes before you give him the nod. He asks you once, twice, if you’re sure. The last thing he would ever want is to do something when you’re not ready or don’t want to.

“I’m sure,” you say, smiling at him softly.

“Okay, just one more, kitten. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

Any words you were going to say are immediately replaced with another moan as his lips reattach to your clit, his fingers delving deep into your walls once again. You’re sensitive. Far more sensitive than you’ve ever been before. And the fact that it only takes a minute for you to reach your release again just adds to all the humiliation you’ve experienced in the course of a single evening.

Just as he said he would, Minho pulls away once you’ve recovered from your orgasm, sliding up your body and connecting his lips with yours. His swipes his tongue across your bottom lip before delving into your mouth. You can taste yourself on him and you love it. You moan softly into the kiss, but it doesn’t last nearly as long as you would’ve liked before Minho is pulling away and climbing off the bed. You whine at the loss, but quickly shut up as you watch him finally undress. He undoes his buttons slowly, your eyes following his every move with such desperate desire. He tosses his shirt to the side, quickly ridding himself of his pants and underwear as well. He hisses as the cold air hits his throbbing cock, leaking a small amount of precum. Mentally, he had all the patience in the world to drag this out. But physically he was aching for a release. He climbs back onto the bed, quickly manhandling you so that you’re flipped over, arms crossed at the wrist, further restricting the amount of movement you have. He runs his hands over your ass cheeks, delivering a few well placed smacks to each before gripping your hips tightly. He lifts them up so that you’re laying there with your ass in the air and your face pressing into the pillows.

He reaches a hand down between your legs, gathering some of your wetness on his fingers. He wraps his slick covered hand around his cock, pumping himself slowly, coating his length in a mixture of your wetness and his precum.

“You know, if you’d been good, you’d actually be getting fucked tonight,” Minho says, feigning sympathy.

Your head snaps to face him as much as your position allows you to, your eyes wide as you realise what he’s just said. He chuckles almost sadistically at the look of confusion on your face.

“B-but-”

“No buts, kitten. You know that your actions have consequences.”

You whine at that, but you know better than to argue with him. You know that if you try to talk him into fucking you, then he’ll just make sure you don’t get a dicking down for a whole month. And that would be a nightmare.

He slowly drapes himself over you, holding himself up with one arm while he places his cock between your thighs, resting against your pussy. He uses his legs to push yours together, effectively sandwiching his cock at a pressure he desires. You whine again, your throbbing cunt aching for him to be inside, but you know you’re not going to get it.

Minho slowly begins to thrust, and the drag of his cock against your slit feels better that you expected it to. It feels good, nowhere near as good as if he were actually inside you, but still good nonetheless. He slowly starts to speed up, chasing his high that he’s been putting off all night. The soft grunts that leave his lips are music to your ears. You moan, as much as you love having Minho pounding into you, having him to this is still so much fun.

He continues to thrust, and you can tell he’s already getting close. All the build up to this moment had him painfully hard so it’s no surprise that he’s already near his end. What is surprising, however, is that you’re near your finish as well. You never would have expected his actions to feel this good and it has the knot in your stomach tightening. And Minho can tell from the pitch of your moans.

He adjusts his hips so that he’s rubbing against your slit harder, the head of his cock applying just enough pressure to your clit every time he thrusts forwards. The extra sensation is what does it for you, causing you to cum one final time with a particularly loud moan.

“You’re such a slut, cumming just from this,” he says breathlessly. He’s not far behind you, the feeling of your shaking thighs enough to push him over the edge. He thrusts once, twice more before cumming with a loud groan, burying his face into the back of your shoulder.

He takes a moment to recover before pulling away, slowly standing up and setting about cleaning you up. Your body feels heavy as he moves around you, and you barely notice him carefully unlocking the handcuffs and placing your arms on the bed. Hardly registering him moving you under the covers. He grabs a tissue, quickly wiping his cum from the top of the covers before ultimately deciding to just put it in the washing machine in the morning. He looks at you, smiling at your tired form. As much as he loves having kinky fun with you, he loves this more; being able to see you all sleepy and soft. It’s adorable.

He walks to his set of draws, quietly pulling out a pair of underwear and pulling them on. He turns back to you just as you lazily open your eyes. He heads back over to you, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Cuddles?” you ask quietly, looking at him hopefully.

“Of course, my love. I’ll just grab you a glass of water for the morning and then I’ll be right back, okay?”

You nod and he stands, quickly heading out to the kitchen and rushing back, glass of water in hand. Even though he’s gone for barely longer than a minute, you’re almost asleep when he returns. He places the glass on your bedside table before quickly climbing into the bed next to you. He pulls you into his chest, slowly running his fingers through your hair soothingly.

It’s nice, how peaceful the moment is, and it has you falling asleep in mere seconds. Minho smiles when he hears your quiet snores. He reaches over to grab his phone, being careful not to jostle you too much and he sets himself an alarm for a reasonable time in the morning while still making sure it’ll go off before you get up. He wants to make sure he gets up first so that he can make you breakfast for when you awaken. Only when he sets the alarm and puts his phone back down does he finally allow himself to close his eyes and fall into a peaceful sleep, holding you in his arms.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know smut #minho smut #lee minho smut #skz minho smut

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ladykatibeth · 3 years ago

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So… still thinking about this pirate show. Specifically about the age of the characters and how they conflict with some of the stories time-line.

Historically Stede Bonnet started working as a pirate at 30, and when they met (the same year) Blackbeard is 38.

Obviously the creators aren’t looking for perfect historical accuracy. Blackbeard is burnt out and has established a name for himself, instead of just getting started like his historical namesake would have been, Stede is a co-captain instead of a hostage/guest, how they met has been changed….e.t.c so changing the ages wouldn’t be out of left field.

However, if we stick to the actors ages….issues arise. Rhys is 48 and Taika is 47. So late 40s. My main concern is the arranged marriage. (Not in the marriage is problematic way, in a timeline is weird way.)

So based on the actresses age I’m putting Mary and Stedes daughter at 11. So based on her age if Stede is the same age as his actor he would have been 37 when he got married.

Maybe 33-37 if it took a while for Mary to get pregnant. Though with the kind of controlling parents these two have I wouldn’t be surprised if they were pressured about having kids.

Not weird for the period, exactly, except that this marriage is arranged.

Why does Stedes dad still have so much control over Stede in his early-late 30s that he has the ability to arrange a marriage his son clearly doesn’t want? With no discussion of his opinion on the mater?

Sure arranged marriages are common around this time, for young people, by 33-37 who you get married to becomes more up to you, or at least if your parents are trying to matchmaker with other parents over your head you have a say in it. (Especially if your a man.)

And if Stedes dad does have this kind of control over him, why not hitch him up earlier? I mean Mary is definitely not the only available woman around with acreage. And I can’t imagine a guy who is at least 57 waiting around for the perfect deal when his time to benefit from it is dwindling.

The only two explanations I can think for it don’t make sense: 1. He did do it earlier, Mary is Stedes second wife or 2.Stede was busy doing something like military service or building a career

1.Stede and Mary give off first marriage vibes, and Stede doesn’t strike me as a Widdower

2.Stede doesn’t seem like he’s been in the military, or honestly doing much at all that would make him struggle with getting married (his issue is feeling constrained, and bored, like he hasn’t been able to experience much.) And his wealth is inherited.

So….it makes no sense why Stede would end up married so late. It would benefit Stedes dad the most to marry him off to a girl with acreage when he’s in his 20s, in order to get the advantage from it for as long as time as possible, and based on the show he probably would have agreed (and the younger you are the more your parents have influence over you.)

And if he had time in between being an adult and getting arranged why didn’t he adventure some then?

So for the sake of my own sanity, to make this time line make a little more sense, I’ve been imagining Stede and Blackbeard as younger than there actors. Not like in there early 30s but about 37-40. Still middle aged, but it fixes the things in the timeline that have been irking me.

So based on the ages I imagine:

1.Stedes daughter is born when Stede is about 26-29.

2.Stede and Mary are married when Stede is anywhere from 23-26 based on how long it takes for Mary to get pregnant.

With this shift, Stede’s dad didn’t wait for a weird amount of time to make his son get married, Stede doesn’t have a large portion of time between adulthood and marriage to explore himself or the world, making his feelings of being trapped make sense, and 11-14 years of marriage is long enough to grow disillusion and depressed, even if you aren’t 48.

This also gives enough time for Blackbeard to become bored especially if he started pirating early. And it would still constitute a mid-life crisis if your putting the ending point at 80.

#our flag means death #ofmd meta #stede bonnet #mary bonnet

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bre-meister · 4 years ago

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This one is actually a continuation of that ask from a while back: “I heard you had lunch with ___”

Hope you enjoy!

Leon Kennedy was many things. He was a D.S.O Agent, a close confidant of the President, and, most importantly, a husband and a father. But, at the end of the day, Leon Kennedy may have been all of those things, but he was also just that, a man. And like many men, he got jealous.

His conversation with Claire about her boss, Neil Fisher, had put a lot of things into perspective for him. He knew that Neil was not a threat to him - never was and never would be. However, Leon would be the first to admitted that he has somewhat of a...possessive streak especially when it comes to his family. Personally, he thinks it’s a holdover from his line of work - keep his loved ones close and no one can hurt them. Whether that was true or not didn’t negate the fact that his slight possessive issues were very much present and when that mixed with his jealousy, Leon was a force to be reckoned with.

So, while Neil possessed no problems within his marriage, he had shown an increasing interest in his wife and that was something that Leon could not just let slide. Thus, his master plan had been birthed.

He hid his intentions from Claire; if she found out he would most definitely end up in the dog house. That was a place he’d learned from experience that he did not want to be. So this operation had to be top secret - even if Claire would be involved later.

He planned and he waited - patience was a virtue of course. Finally, the perfect moment presented itself and Leon was poised to strike.

Hunnigan mentioned on Monday that this would most likely be a slow week - at least as slow as a government agency that deals closely with both the President and B.O.W attacks could be. She suggested he take advantage of that and use some of his accumulated down time to spend some time with his family. So, he planned to take off for just a few hours that Thursday to have a nice lunch with his wife. He’d arrive early to make sure that Neil would see him sweep his wife off of her feet right before taking her out for a nice, well deserved lunch between just the two of them - a feat that they don’t accomplish often now with a baby in the house.

So he planned and he waited - just a few more days. He thought up idea upon idea of how he could make it obvious to Neil that Claire was most definitely (and happily he may add) taken without all but saying it. PDA had never really been his thing - it kind of made him uncomfortable to be honest - but he was prepared to feel a little uncomfortable to make Neil uncomfortable enough to control his wandering thoughts about his wife.

_________

Thursdays were always interesting days for Claire. They were far enough into the week that one was most definitely ready for the weekend and terrible at the same time - taunting almost in the sense that the weekend was so close but so far away, safeguarded by two full days of work. It was good work; the work of a rescuer as her husband would say. It needed to be done and Claire enjoyed it - the knowledge that she was helping people. But, sometimes she wished that work didn’t involve so much paperwork. She briefly wondered if Leon ever felt the same way. She’d seen the stacks of reports that had to be filled out after each of his missions and assignments; there was no way any of that was particularly pleasant to fill out.

So, as Claire got ready that normal Thursday morning, she found herself preparing for a hopefully boring day doing good work to help good people. And as she sat at the breakfast table watching Leon make goofy faces as he fed their daughter, she couldn’t help but wish the weekend would arrive just a little sooner. She was already making plans to spend as much time as she could with her family.

It seems that everyone had been making plans that day, because when Claire made it to the office, she noticed that Neil had apparently planed a whole day of work for their team in what, she assumed, was a bid to grab her attention for a large portion of the day. Claire being more experienced in most aspects of bioweapons made her the perfect person for a go between her team and their boss as they created a campaign to bring more light to Umbrella and the viruses that still wracked the world even as the company began to sink.

Neil pretended to need extra explanations of certain aspects of the plan in order to extend their time together. Claire knew he was putting on a front, Neil was a smart guy, he wouldn’t have his current job is he wasn’t. But, Claire humored him against her own personal wishes, afterall, he was still her boss.

In terms of personal feelings against the man, Claire didn’t have any in particular. Neil seemed like a nice enough man but she was aware of his feelings for her and she was a happily married woman. Even though she had told Leon he had nothing to notice about - and he didn’t - but she felt it was still best to limit her interactions with Neil as much as she could.

It came as no surprise to her that when the typical lunch hour rolled around, Neil began to insist that they spend it together.

“I think it would be a great opportunity for you to further explain this brilliant plan of yours.”

“I’ve already explained every minor detail to you. Now I think it would be best if you just read through the proposal on your own, maybe that way you can figure out whatever is confusing you. Sometimes it’s just the way someone is explaining it and not the content itself.” Claire began to gather her things and move to her own office to grab her purse and head to lunch. She had somehow managed to forget her pack lunch on the kitchen counter and would now have to go buy one.

“Well, then we could use this time to get to know eachother better. Every boss should know his employee’s right? Especially ones he tends to work the most with.”

“Well, if we’ll be working so closely together so often then I fail to see why you would want to spend more time with me.” She had reached her door now. Turning the nob she prayed she would be able to slip in and close the door on Neil without too much resistance.

“Who wouldn’t want to spend more time with you Angel?”

She froze. Looking up she was shocked to see her husband sitting in her chair, a bouquet of red roses sitting in front of him on her desk.

“Leon? What are you doing here?” she shook her head, moving to embrace him as he stood, “i mean, not that i’m not happy to see you but still, what are you doing here.”

“Well I just missed your smiling face so much I had to rush over immediately to see you.”

She fixed him with a look that said she was not amused (even though she was).

“It was kind of a slow day at the office and Hunnigan suggested I use that to my advantage. I noticed that you left your lunch at home so, being the chivalrous, caring man that I am, I decided I would come and whisk you away to a well deserved lunch. Just the two of us...alone...together.”

By this point she was completely wrapped in his arms. That familiar, calming sensation was enough to distract her from noticing how intently Leon was looking over he shoulder and through the doorway.

“Hmmm,” she hummed, “That does sound nice.”

Leon leaned down with, Claire assumed, the intention to place a kiss on her forehead or cheek like he was known to do in public. What she was not prepared for was a deep, heated kiss that would have been classified as that type of PDA that makes everyone around incredibly uncomfortable. The exact kind of kiss that Leon planted on her right in the middle of her office - a fact that was confusing to Claire considering she knew how much Leon preferred to avoid PDA.

The sound of someone clearing their voice is what finally caused them to pull apart. Claire would be the first to admit that she was a little sad the kiss ended so soon - having a baby on top of their already busy schedules didn’t leave much time for them. They were always Claire and Leon, Isabelle’s Mommy and Daddy. Or, Claire and Leon, Terrasave and the D.S.O’s best. Even Though she loved her daughter with her whole heart and believed just as strongly in the work she was doing, sometimes she just wanted to be Claire and Leon - that’s it, just them.

She didn’t need to turn around to know who was behind her - the smirk on Leon’s face told her it was Neil. Suddenly, Claire was begging to put two and two together.

“Hi, Neil right?” Leon jumped right in.

“Um - “ Neil was not able to get a real word in before Leon interrupted him,

“I don’t think we got to properly meet at that event the other week, what with me technically working and all. Leon Kennedy,” he held his hand out for th either man to shake, “ Claire’s husband.” Neil’s grip tightened at that.

Claire could see the pride flowing through Leon at the small slip in Neil’s outward stature. When he dropped his hand, he immediately snaked it around her waist, pulling her close. Even Claire thought that his hand was a little too close to her ass considering her boss was standing in front of them. Then again, that was probably part of whatever plan he had concocted in his jealousy.

“I forgot my lunch at home so Leon is going to take me out.” Claire stepped in, hoping that neither Leon nor Neil would make a fuss about the whole situation.

“I see he also brought you flowers...how nice.” Neil’s body language was stiff, it was obvious he was trying to restrain what was probably both disappointment and some varying degree of his own jealousy.

“Only the best for my Angel. She deserves flowers as beautiful as her but, alas, no such flower exists. So, I settled for roses.”

Claire loved Leon and so, she tended to put up with a lot of his antics. This one, however, was starting to irk her and the confidant smirk on his face really did it in for her. She was done being a things for these two men to fight over - one of which who definitely had no right to.

Claire shrugged out of Leon’s hold, moving behind her desk to grab her purse.

“Well, times wasting. Common Leon, let’s go.” She grabbed his hand and began to pull him out of the room. She was thankful he didn’t resist. As the passed him, she turned to speak to Neil one last time before leaving,

“ I have some time after lunch if you really need me to go over the plan again. I still suggest you go over the proposals on your own first though.”

Neil let out a mumbles “of course” but Claire was more focused on getting Leon across the open office space, into the elevator, and away from Neil.

___________

“I’ve gotta admit,” Leon looked up from his fries to his wife as she spoke, “that line about the flowers? Some of your best work.”

Leon chuckled but looked back down at his plate. Apparently once they’d left the office he had found his shame at the way he had reacted even after being told by Claire he had nothing to worry about.

He’d insisted that Claire pick where they go to dinner. She had decided on a small dinner not that far from her office that they used to frequent often on impromptu dates not unlike their current one. The milkshakes here were her favorite.

“Ya well, it’s true.”

She reached across the table to hold his hand, milkshake forgotten in front of her.

“As much as I love beautiful flowers and amazing lunch dates, you know that you really don’t have anything to worry about. Neil is just my boss - a pretty poor one - but my boss none the less.”

“I get it, I do. I know you would never but, “ he sighed, “ I can’t help it Claire. I saw the way he looked at you and it just - forgive me?” He looked her in the eyes, his own wide enough to portray all the remorse he truly did feel about what was probably an overreaction.

Claire just smiled, she could never stay mad at him. She knew that they hadn’t been able to spend any real alone time together lately and that probably exacerbated his feelings threatening his fragil, male ego. Besides, she couldn’t say she didn’t enjoy that kiss earlier. Perhaps she should take Jill up on her offer to babysit more often.

#Cleon #Cleon fic #Leon Kennedy #Claire Redfield #jealousy #resident evil #My writing

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ahmedmootaz · 4 years ago

Note

Hello! I saw you request of requests, soooo. Can I request a story and it can be however long you want it to be. The sort of prompt is what you think would or want to happen in the upcoming episode “The Phantom and The Sorceress”. It’s fine even if you don’t answer this ask, thanks for all your content and theories!

Dear Anonymous,

What, did you think that just because I replied one day before the episode aired that I wouldn’t do it?...Well, I was debating it, but this was a fun one. I really hope you like it, because I spent quite a bit of effort on it.

Beware of possible spoilers, however. I mean, it is all prediction, but you never know when you’re right. So, here’s the link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26551864

And here is the magical Read More button, for those who need it (Note that Tumblr doesn’t copy italics, for some reason):

It was a dark, cold night in the Forest Of...whatever. Lena couldn't care less about what its name was. It was damp, awful, cold, and filled with monsters. No wonder Magica would hide here; it was basically her dream home. Maybe it was a mirror, too. She trudged with her friends, Violet and Webby, who'd oh-so-kindly volunteered to help her on this mad quest of hers. She was going mad, that's what, and they were both ready to go mad with her. She really was lucky when it came to friends.

They kept trudging in silence, not wanting to reflect on the series of what must've been unfortunate events to lead them to searching for Magica DeSpell in the dark, cold night in the middle of a swamp. An ugly swamp, too...though, now that she thought about it, there weren't really 'pretty' swamps, so it wasn't like Magica chose a bad one; they were all bad.

Despite telling herself several times how she was over this, how she had no issues whatsoever about what they were doing right now and that it was for the greater good, she found herself contemplating any other choice. Just what, exactly, led them to this point?!

...Well, they all knew. It was a rhetorical question. An angry rhetorical question. Leave it to the McDucks to be attacked by a literal video-game monster that crawled out of the screen and treating it like another boring day. Which...yeah, it kinda was for them, but she'd gotten used to the calmer household she moved in. It wasn't like that was the biggest thing that happened today, either, it was more like...the appetizer, even though that wasn't really a correct statement, since it was like eating a whole roast duck only to be told it was an appetizer.

Still, it wasn't the tentacle-monster which they took down that led to this situation. It was the fact that Gladstone...Gladner? Something along those lines, showed up. Apparently, he was the boys' uncle, which made him someone she didn't know. Not that it mattered anyway, he came in, crying about how his luck left him forever before weeping on her arm, which was conveniently next to him. Her sleeve was never going to return to regular levels of salt after this.

It took a while before Scrooge managed to calm him down. It seemed like his luck...which was a thing she didn't know about, had left him. Normally, she was told, they would've chalked it up to some paranormal mystery and had to excuse themselves and send her home, but it went further then that...Almost everyone in Duckburg was losing their abilities.

They didn't really believe it at first, but when Scrooge's monetary abilities started going blank, the alarms blared loudly enough in everyone's minds. It wasn't just him, too; Gyro was losing his intelligence, so was Huey, Mrs.Beakly lost a good portion of her Agent skills, and Dewey lost the ability to Dewey, whatever the heck he meant by that.

It only left her and the rest of Team Magic to fend for themselves and figure out what was draining their powers. There was one teeny-tiny problem, however:

How would they do that? Webby was an amazing fighter, but their enemy, a certain Phantom Blot that Violet heard about, didn't leave a trace, much less a body to fight, and despite Violet's best efforts, nothing came out of her investigations to find where he hid, which left Lena to do the job. One issue, however: She couldn't.

She was a brilliant sorceress, or so she bragged, but there was still much she needed to learn before casting detection spells. And they, she theorized, didn't have that time. Violet was an amazing step-sister and a scarily fast learner, but even she came up empty-handed when it came to learning anything about that power. That left one magic user in Duckburg she knew. Ugh.

She shivered at the memory, snapping out of her mind due to some whimpering from Gladstone. He said he needed to find his luck or else he was a goner. She thought he was exaggerating at first, but then a boat nearly fell on him. 4 Kilometres away from sea. He promised he'd do them anything if she let him accompany them on this treacherous journey while the rest of the gang tried investigating using their own ways, and the agreed. How bad could he be, anyways?

-"U-Um...Lena? I don't know how to tell you this...but I...I hate swamps. I don't think I know how to walk in them. It was always my luck helping me out. I'm cold, scared, and humiliated."...well, not too bad, but he just wouldn't shut up! And while he seemed to amuse Webby and Violet, he was just getting on her nerves.

-"Well, nobody here likes swamp, either! And you've been listing the things your luck did for you for two hours now, is there anything you can do on your own, Mr.Gladstone?", she shot back, irked.

He used to argue and bicker with her, but as his luck kept worsening throughout the day (How on earth does one get mauled by a bear, an alligator, and then receive a speeding ticket because the alligator's death-roll was too fast??), he mostly stuck to paranoia to help himself. She couldn't help but feel bad for him, despite how much he annoyed her.

-"W-Well...I used to breathe well on my own...I could also walk...I think...", he mumbled, his voice a broken mess compared to his arrogant and proud tone, or so she was told by Webby. "A-And...I think I might need to learn how to go to the bathroom in the swamp.", he added, his exhaustion overpowering his embarrassment.

-"Pffft, don't worry about it, Gladstone! The entire swamp is your bathroom! You're basically the King of the swamp!", and there it was, the perky, energetic voice that was trying to keep Gladstone away from depression this entire trip.

-"Oh, quit with the lies! I am nothing without my luck!", he cried, seeming on the verge of tears for the...seventeenth time today? Lena couldn't remember. "B-But...It wasn't my choice! My luck was always there for me! Like...Like a-a stick! Something to lean on my entire life and now it is gone!", he lamented, slouching as his footsteps got a bit slower. For the sake of all them, Lena hoped he regained any of his luck soon.

-"Well, it is true; any being born with a condition, abnormal or not, that aids him throughout his life without any major work done from the part of the being will eventually get used to this condition, which could explain why you're taking this particular misadventure hard, Mr.Gladstone.", Violet bumped in their chat, checking the notepad on which they brainstormed the possible locations of Magica. "Still, I'd advise you to remain positive, as I sense we may be able to fix these conditions.", she added, giving him a small, encouraging smile which he didn't notice.

-"Yeah, probs.", the teenage witch agreed after she felt a nudge from the Vanderquack. Anything to cheer up her friend's friends' uncle. "Hey Vi, are we close or not?", she asked, trying to ignore the eye-roll from her shorter friend.

-"Well, I don't have a particularly detailed map, though I imagine that Magica would mark her camp with a particular sign; an X on the ground, perhaps, or perhaps we must deduce it from the surrounding environment-"

-"Or she might've carved her face on the bottom of an ancient tree!", the cheerful duck happily announced as they entered a clearing with a small dirt road that led to the mouth of Magica DeSpell. A wooden carving of her, anyway.

It was just as Webby said, large, reeking of pride and arrogance, and yet...oddly well done. The details were really nice and actually looked like Magica. If she had to give her 'aunt' something, it had to be that she apparently didn't suck at something in her life. Really though, wood carving, of all things? Was she a carpenter before becoming an evil, awful witch? Is she talented? She didn't have her magic...maybe she had someone else with her.

-"Alright, so, is everyone prepared to meet my homicidal aunt?", the tallest duckling asked with fake happiness, receiving a nod form everyone but Gladstone, who emitted something of a sniff. Webby readied the axe she brought with her, patting the kitten at the top while Violet tightened her garlic necklace, while Gladstone...he stood there, steadying his back a bit. "Mr.Gladstone?"

-"Ah, forget about it, whatever she does to me, it can't be worse than having an anvil hit me from ten-meters.", he steadied his tone, managing to make it more bitter than desperate. Well, at least he wasn't going to cry when they see her.

She looked back at the tree's base, blocking out the various memories that gave her the urge to blast the door, and knocked. Harshly. Hey, she was going to give herself something. She felt both Webby and Violet's hands on her shoulders, and she anticipated the door opening. Now or never...they were going to convince her, and somehow, she didn't think it was going to be too easy.

Her mind raced, imagining all the awful things she could be plotting right now. She heard garlic was harmful to magic users, something she didn't know too much about, but was apparently true, as she figured out when her magical powers suddenly dimmed as she touched some garlic. Still, Magica could hit them form a distance...and what about that axe? Was going physical the ideal plan? Was-

CRASH!

The quartet of ducks yelled, jumping back before they realized the door didn't even open. It was something from the inside. Someone, to be exact. A couple of curses came through the door as a metallic sound came through as well.

-"Bloody Hell! Who comes in this hour of the night, in this swamp, to this tree?! I don't even pay bills!", the angry yelling of her not-really-aunt came through. Yep, that was about the attitude she expected. "If you're the Magical Supplies Shop, I'm sorry, but if you couldn't tell, I lost my powers after following a wonderful plan of mine. I cannot pay you in whatever things you want. Now go away before I shoot you!", she answered with a sickeningly sweet tone. Even her voice brought Lena awful memories and forced her to frown.

-"You can do this, Lena. You faced her down before. She can't do anything to you.", Violet squeezed her shoulder, giving her a determined smile. Lena shot one back, before taking a step closer to the door.

-"Hey, this is Lena...Your...", she sighed, bringing a hand to her temple. "Niece?", she finished, awaiting a sick laughter or an undignified scowl at her for attempting to break free from being a shadow. Sorry-not-sorry, Magica. For moment, there was silence. Then there was laughter. Hysterical laughter. So much laughter Lena felt scared.

-"Ooooh, good one, person-who-is-trying-to-fool-me! I don't have a niece! My brother is dead and my sister cannot keep a worm alive! Now scram before my patience runs out!", she thundered from behind the door, leaving the ducklings and Gladstone in shock.

-"She has a brother?", Lena repeated with incredulity, looking at her two friends and Gladstone.

-"I don't know! How should I know? I thought she didn't have family!", Violet answered with equal confusion, shrugging.

-"I mean, technically she doesn't have a brother anymore.", Gladstone chimed in, his voice devoid of any enthusiasm. "Who's this woman anyway? And why does she sound like she woke up on the wrong side of the bed?", he asked, raising his voice a tad too much.

-"The wrong side of the bed?!", came the war-cry from behind the door, only leaving a moment before a couple of locks unlocked and it swung outwards, revealing Magica DeSpell . With a shotgun. Oh, well this was just lovely, wasn't it? "Alright, that does it, I will put more holes than you than there is in...swiss...cheese...", her speech slurred, looking at the three ducklings in front of her house.

The silence remained for a moment, with no one doing anything. Webby brandished her weapon, Violet made a threatening expression, and Lena ignited a spark in her hand. And Gladstone stood there, trying to take all this in. That moment gave Lena enough time to admire Magica's hut; a three-room lodging, more aptly. It was basically a sink, a gas-cooker, and some drawers, a wardrobe, and a bookshelf, all locally-made, apparently. There was also a toilet and a bath in the background. It was a pretty sorry place to live in, but it seemed functional enough.

-"Hi, Aunt Magica.", Lena greeted, gritting her teeth and delivering the widest, fakest smile she could possibly give. "I almost forgot how you looked! We haven't seen each other in such a long time. What a shame.", she continued, trying her best to remain calm and to look the elder sorceress in the eyes. Said sorceress was now surveying the ducks surrounding her, measuring her chances and keeping her hands on the shotgun's trigger.

-"Get out. Now!", the cape-wearing duck yelled, looking dangerously close to a rage-fit. "All three of you. Now!"

-"Three? Hello? I may have lost my luck, but I am certainly not invisible, lady!", Gladstone announced with an undignified tone. He got a glare that shut him up. "Yeah, sure, okay, talk with the people who really matter. Why wouldn't you?", he grumbled bitterly.

-"Listen, as much as we'd love to, we can't really do that.", the younger sorceress laid her hand on her waist, looking both bored and uncaring. At least, she hoped she did. The last thing she needed was for the awful, horrible duck in front of her to sense any weakness, something she assumed she excelled at.

-"Besides, we're already outside! Your evil mind trick won't work on us!", Webby boasted, swinging her axe a bit for intimidation purposes. They didn't seem to work all too well, but at the very least, they made Magica's shotgun point at her just a tiny bit. Was that a victory?...Probably not.

-"Fine then, get away from me! From this place! The last thing I need is to spend my night with a bunch of *McDucks*.", the gun-wielder practically screamed, her veins starting to bulge from the anger. Her voice was laced with venom dripping off of every word. It was honestly both terrifying and admirable how much hate she poured into every word.

-"I told you we can't.", Lena repeated calmly, trying to avoid a fight she saw she was coming.

And then, just as she hoped things would calm down, a loud, roaring BANG! filled the swamp. Every single member of her group jumped, looking frightened as they searched around for wounded. There were none, only four ducks staring at each other. She'd tricked them. And she didn't even have her magic. Lena frowned and turned her face back to her shadow's origin. Her...uh...creator? She was her shadow, did shadows have creators? Maybe a caster was a better term? As much as she hated it, 'Aunt Magica' rolled off the tongue far better than 'Caster Magica'.

-"Are you searching for fight? Because I'm not certain your chances would be very high with the four of us.", Violet spoke for her step-sister. Her new room-mate at this point, but Lena still appreciated the gesture with all of her heart. It appeared Magica actually fired a shot, even if it was only a warning shot. Everyone tried to make good on that statement, looking as threatening as they could. Even Gladstone lifted his fists, adding a grand total of 4% to how threatening they were.

-"Maybe you are! Why can't you get away from me? What do you want? I don't have any more plans for the moment, I didn't do anything illegal for the last month, and you're taking my books from my cold, dead, hands!", the former-Sorceress Of The Shadows barked back defiantly, still pointing at them with her gun. "I don't care if you kill me! I'll take at least two of you down before I-"

-"Could you shut up?!", Lena cried out, her eye twitching and doing everything she could to not attack Magica. "We're here because...because...", she couldn't say it. She couldn't bring herself to ask her for help.

-"...You want to buy something?", her 'aunt' guessed, gun still pointing at her head, but apparently curious.

-"No."

-"You want to brag?"

-"...No.", okay, maybe they did, but they couldn't do that. Not now, anyway.

-"Are we here to rent the room?", Gladstone chimed in, scratching his head. Lena was certain Violet explained to him on the way here...but he apparently forgot.

-"I NEED YOUR HELP!", there, she spat it. She couldn't believe she said it, covering her face afterwards. She felt Violet's hand pat her and heard Webby saying something along the lines of 'There, there'.

-"...I'm sorry? Is this...Listen, it's the middle of September, the swamp is humid as all Hell and I'm trying to set up a fan, if you're just here to brag,", she said before adding 'as you McDucks do.' under her breath, "Then you can come sometime else, these garments aren't exactly fun to wear when the humidity is 85% today so-"

-"No, we need the help. But you'd better watch your back, you witch, because if you try to betray us, I'll shove this axe right down your head!", Webby warned threateningly, patting the kitten once more. Magica actually remained silent and judged what she said, and Lena decided it was time to uncover her face again.

-"And why would you need my help?", the witch repeated, lowering her weapon. Lena could just feel smugness radiating off of her, and she hated it with every molecule of her being.

-"There's a thief in town. He's stealing everyone's abilities. Everything about them. He's stealing it. He calls himself the Phantom Blot.", Violet answered, looking rather impatient with Magica, who smiled with a hum.

-"And why should that concern me?", she smugly inquired and...well, she wasn't wrong. Lena hated that she wasn't wrong.

-"The Phantom Blot hates magic and its users. He wants to eradicate the both of them and you, if I remember correctly, are a witch, yes?", the hummingbird explained, gaining a bit more of a reaction this time: A chuckle. They really couldn't find anyone else, huh?

-"Listen, Purple, if you can remember so well, then you might as well remember that Lena over there stole all of my power. I'm in no danger of this Phantom Blot.", she shot back, a taunting smile on her beak and crossing her arms.

-"Alright, listen up you freak, maybe you don't realize this, but he doesn't know that you don't have your powers. All he knows is that you were the single biggest magical spell to hit this town less than a year ago. I'd say you're still on his hit list.", not taking any more of this back-and-forth, the younger sorceress quipped, closing her hands together and trying a smirk of her own to counter the furious frown and growl her 'aunt' gave her.

-"And you're still on our hit list, you monster! So don't try to even think about doing anything funny!", Webby added, giving her best-friends a reassuring smile, though a somewhat threatening one.

-"I don't think I care about that too much."...she didn't? Oh. Well. There goes the entire base of their plans. "My family isn't here, neither is my home, I don't have my powers, I struggle to eat half-decent food, and I can't even make any new plans after that piece of-", she stopped herself, "Sorry, after Glomgold took everything I had monetarily. In other words, life isn't looking too great for me.", she finished indifferently, though a bit sad and bitter. Huh. That's...really odd. Bitter yes, but sad? Lena wouldn't have ever expected that from her.

-"Tough luck, lady. There's a great pharmacy that sells anti-depressants on the next corner. You know. If you're like me and lost all the joy your life ever had.", the former-luckiest duck in the world suggested darkly, pointing a thumb somewhere. "Look, I don't know you, you don't know me, but please just do me a favour, alright? I need your help. Magic or whatever I just...I just need my luck bad. I need my life back. Can you please help us for the good of your heart?", he got down on his knees and begged, not showing too much emotion, but just enough to almost make you forget his bitterness a moment ago. Almost.

-"...Yeah, listen, the 'good of my heart' doesn't really exist, and even if it did, then I won't be giving it to you of all people.", well...Lena couldn't say she wouldn't say something similar to some duck she barely even knew. Unlike Magica, however, she'd actually accept. Probably. "But it seems Scrooge's thinking isn't there quite yet for all of you.", she stated, almost with disappointment, as she brought two fingers to her temple. "My life at this point is in danger...but that's not really what's motivating me here. What do I have to gain?", ah, straight to the point, are we?

-"What, keeping your life isn't enough for you?", her former-shadow snarked back, utilizing the opportunity to show no respect whatsoever. Ah, that felt good. It didn't feel good to see her nemesis laugh at her, however, as if she knew something she didn't.

-"Now, I may be misunderstanding this, but you don't have much time, yes? Phantom Bolt or whatever is already striking. Both of our lives are endangered, and if it means taking you out...well, I don't need to say much, eh?", oh, how Lena hated the smugness in her voice. They'd accounted for this, but she just wanted to punch her in her stupid beak so much!

-"Fine, does this make you any more inclined?", the younger witch pulled out a purple gem, dangling it from her finger and immediately making Magica's pupils widen.

-"My Sumerian Amulet!", she yelled, throwing herself on Lena, though not with so much force the latter wasn't able to repel her. Indeed, all the younger duckling had to do was raise a hand as her 'aunt' tried grabbing the amulet that was dangling so close to her.

-"There, feeling a bit more excited now?", the intelligent, sharp voice of Violet observed. "We know how much this means to you. Maybe you could even regain your magic with it, yes? This is as much as we're going to offer, so if you don't want it..."

-"...Fine!", came the near-instant response. Magica was biting her lower beak, looking majorly conflicted. "Alright, you have some of ol' Scroogie in you. You want my help? Fine. Fine, no really. How about we seal the deal, then? I help you with whatever it is you want to beat the Phantom Blot, you give me back my Sumerian Amulet, and we all try to kill each other sometime later, affaire conclue?", she extended a fingerless-ly gloved hand, looking all-too-gleeful about all of this. Lena knew the amulet was powerful, but the way Magica accepted their offer...it gave her second thoughts about giving her the amulet.

-"It means 'deal?', Mr.Gladstone.", she heard her step-sister tell the triplets' uncle. Apparently, he wasn't too fond of Magica's new terminology...but then again, neither was Lena. "Though I must wonder how you know of French, Magica.", the short hummingbird muttered as she extended a hand alongside the other three ducks.

-"I have some Savoyard cousins. You're not the only ones with a family here.", came the dry answer.

It took a moment of hesitation, with everyone almost certain that the other side will pull out at the last second. Then, suddenly, Webby's hand went forward and shook, or rather, grabbed Magica's. Violet soon followed, and Gladstone did as they did. That only left Lena, who stared at Magica. If she shakes this hand...she'll take orders from her again. She'll give her the amulet that will make her able to hurt her again. She didn't want to do this...but she had to. Not only for herself, but for her friends. For everyone who depended on her, she took a breath and forced her hand to shake with Magica's. It was...huh. Wow. Her fingers were tiny compared to Lena. How did she never notice?

-"Lovely. Now, you're trying to go after this Phantom Whatever, yes?", the cape-drapped witch asked, looking a bit more enthusiastic. She received a nod from everyone, Gladstone included. "Very well, I can make you an elixir to poison him, though it's going to take some-"

-"Woah woah woah, we're trying to defend ourselves here! Not everyone is a murderer like you!", Lena objected, waving her arms frantically just as her 'aunt' was going to enter her hut. She earned a disapproving stare. She hated them.

-"He's going to kill you, Lena. You're being naïve if you think showing kindness is going to change someone who's bent on murdering you.", the sorceress mocked, resting her hand on her hip. "Besides, why come here in the first place if you're all such big fans of Gandhi?"

-"We want you to teach Lena spell.", Webby replied, her axe still unsheathed, though it only gained an unimpressed look as her enemy got used to it. "We can defeat the Phantom Blot without resorting to your methods, and you'll see that yourself!", she proudly continued, lifting the axe a little higher.

-"A spell?", Magica repeated, mystified. "You...You want me to teach you a spell?! To be back where I belong? To rejoin my magical destiny-", oh, come on. Couldn't she stay clam for five minutes? Why was she acting like a hyperactive child all of sudden? That wasn't how she was supposed to act!

-"Yes, yes, all of that. Now if you could just-"

-"Ooooh, it feels good to be back!", deciding that two could play at the interruptions game, she ignored her 'niece' as she wrapped her cloak around her, covering her beak and moving her fingers for dramatic effect.

-"You are exhausting to be around, you know that?", Lena quipped, glaring at the far-too-gleeful duck in front of her.

-"I try. Now, what spell do you exactly want?"

-"We were thinking about trying a spell to locate the Phantom Blot.", Violet explained, and Lena couldn't help but notice Magica tilted her head just a teeny tiny bit. "We want to know where he is, and if possible, bring him to us.", she clarified, her dignified tone not wavering.

-"You seem worried, witch. Are you worried because you're trying to play us and now you can't?", Webby interrogated with her 'detective accent', looking suspicious to Magica's current indescribable expression.

-"No, it's not that, it's just...Locating people and things is more of a Teleporter thing...", she answered, almost begrudgingly.

-"Welp, we came to the wrong person. I told you! We needed a teleporter, we have a witch. And we made a deal. This is just fan-tastic.", ever the positive one, Lena ranted as she started walking around, waving her arms, exasperated.

-"Of course it would be you to not know magic-branches, Lena.", her 'aunt' scolded, noticing Webby's sudden axe-swing and trying to ignore the obvious threat. "Teleporting is magic. Just a branch of it. I'm more talented in the spells branch and the alchemy branch, alongside shadow-manipulation, of course. Teleporting...well, I can help you. I tried learning it, after all.", she boasted, mumbling the last part to herself more than to the ducklings surrounding her.

-"Branches, huh...And how can we know you're not just messing with us? You could be saying absolute mallarcky!", the seater-wearing duck accused, earning an undignified huff from the older sorceress.

-"I said I tried learning it, and not without some success.", she claimed, hoping to satisfy Lena's questions and just get closer to getting the darn amulet. She didn't. "Listen, my brother was a pretty good Teleporter. I'll tell you what he told me, alright?", she explained further, noticeably uncomfortable with what she was saying.

-"How come I never heard of him if he's so go-"

-"Because you've never spent more than two months in Europe, you brat! Don't you dare talk about the King Of Napoli like that!", she screamed, looking more threatening by the second. A full-blown beatdown was about to ensue if it wasn't for Gladstone, of all people.

-"Hey...I remember that name...He stole my car when I was on a trip in Europe! And my newly-won crown which I won in Barbaria!", he recounted, looking far-too-happy for what he was saying.

-"Bavaria.", Violet corrected.

-"Whatever, he just teleported in my car and stole it after throwing me out! And he had someone else with him, too!", the former-luck king continued, still looking inexplicably happy. "I never thanked him for his service! Some old lady saw the accident and thought I needed help, so she gave me one of her luxury jets to console me! Told me nobody was safe from the King Of Napopi.", he finished, a smile on his face. "That was before the whole...unlucky thing...", and now he was going to be depressed again.

-"See? Now just listen to what I tell you and you should be fine!", the elder duck ordered, apparently unable to sense the internal moment of struggle Lena had before she obeyed, taking a step forward.

-"Yes...Magica.", she muttered under her breath, standing in front of her arch nemesis' cold stare. Her friends were there to protect her. There was nothing to fear. Nothing to fear at all. This was just a forced training session. She was going to get through this.

-"I'd appreciate it if you call me Miss Magica.", and yet it didn't seem like her momentary teacher was willing to make this easy for the both of them. Holding her sly smile, she straightened her back and looked at her forced-apprentice for a second. "Let your magic run through you. Teleportation is a complex art, and all its branches need a constant flow of magic through one's self. Location is no different, let the magic run through your body.", she stated, trying to throw her cloak in a dramatic way.

-"Okay so...like this?", the tallest duckling asked, holding her right arm in front of her and sensing the tingling sensation of magic as it coursed through her. She came to control it after a multitude of attempts, so this wasn't much of a trial. "Oh, and since I might as well milk you for whatever you're worth, can I change this colour? I hate this purple.", she wondered, noting that she didn't get any reply before forcing her vocal cords to add "Miss Magica?"

-"Hmm, well, I don't know, the colour of one's magic is determined by both their will and their chosen Branch of Magic, I had to go through lots of training to change my magic's colour, and since this is my magic,", she pointed at the flame-like purple shape that surrounded her 'niece', "It's going to take a lot of time for you to change it back. But it's no special technique. Some can immediately change it, others cannot. It comes eventually.", she continued indifferently, paying attention to the magic that was radiating off of Lena.

-"Don't talk to Lena like that!", the Vanderquack reaffirmed her stance on Magica as she exchanged glares with the now-dysfunctional sorceress.

-"Webs, it's fine. I can deal with her.", her best-friend answered, turning her attention back to her teacher. Oh, how she hated that she had to refer to her as that! Nevertheless, she was surprised she actually got an answer. She expected some insults and nothing else, but it seemed that once they had a deal...she worked with it. It was...unnerving.

-"When it comes to searching for something, you must see it with your blind eye. You must both wish for it, see it in your mind, and release enough magical surges to clear the way for you. Only then will you sense where what you search for lies. For example, I have a red neckerchief in my house with a raven on it in my home. Try sensing where it is.", the DeSpell explained emotionlessly, guiding Lena a bit closer to her home.

She closed her eyes, as she was told, and tried seeing the neckerchief. Red...raven...yep, pretty plain alright. And yet...she tried releasing energy as she was told, but the only thing that was getting released was a bunch of aimless magical balls that deflated on the ground. She couldn't sense anything. She had the image in her brain, but she couldn't really...get 'it', if that made any sense.

-"Not good. As expected, you cannot properly use my magic. Perhaps you need to be more emotionally motivated to feel the 'click'?", of course it would be like Magica to benefit off this situation. Of course. Well, at least she was partially right. Lena grunted as a response, not wanting to give her trainer any more satisfaction than necessary. "Then we must up the risks a bit.", the elder sorceress claimed moving a bit to where her friends stood.

-"Listen here, Magica! Lena's trying her best, and we have no need for you! If you ever- Hey! My...bow...", in an instant, there was a 'splash'. The eldest of the ducklings turned around to see Webby without her iconic bow staring into the stagnant water of the swamp, shocked and furious at the same time. "That was a gift from my grandma!", she yelled back.

-"Oh, quit it, you want to help your oh-so-precious friends, yes? Then let me teach!", the witch shot coldly, evading an axe swing with relative ease, watching as the energetic duckling gritted her beak; they had no one to trust but her. "Now, Lena, this swamp is filled with alligators and all sorts of nasty creatures. If we don't find Debby's bow in five minutes, it might as well be gone forever. If you can find where I threw it, I'll go get it myself. Sounds good?", too good. Especially that last part. In fact, only that last part, since Lena had little faith that she could succeed.

When everyone around her went silent, the young witch turned her head to Webby. She looked distraught. Closing her eyes once more, she faced the swamp and tried sensing for the bow. Pink, small, and plain. It was a rather noticeable part of Webby. Something that clearly meant a lot for her. If she could find it...Then she'd have helped her friends. She saw it...she willed it...and she started releasing magical sparks. For a moment, just like last time, they merely deflated.

Then, all of a sudden...she felt 'it'. A guiding feeling...like an arm on her shoulders. It made her open her eyes, but she could still see the bow. She saw it. She felt it. It was pulsing...the pulsing pushed her to where it came from:...Away from the water? It was behind her. But the only thing behind her was...she turned around to look at Magica, who had a detestably smug expression on her face as she showed Lena her fingerless-ly gloved left hand. The glove had a small bulge near the wrist.

-"Seems as if I was correct.", was all she said. Lena didn't growl or frown this time. She had no reason to. It slightly angered her to agree with her 'aunt', but as far as correctness went, there wasn't much to critique here. "I learnt this little trick as a little girl. It can help you in a tough spot.", she added as she removed it from under her glove, throwing it into her student's hand. "There, I made good on my promise, right?"

...She did?...Well, yes, she did teach her. Lena thought that she didn't mention some things, such as the formula or how much energy one should dedicate, but in the end, those details were all discovered by her apprentice with no need for more external help. She, should she follow the instructions correctly, was now technically able to find the Phantom Blot.

Then why did she feel something wrong? She felt as if something wasn't quite...right, to put it simply. She expected a bigger fight with Magica. Harsher treatment. Little to no emotions, but it was just...meh. Nothing too big. She stared again the the elder witch. She was smiling. It was a smug smile alright, but it was a smile. It wasn't something she expected to see of Magica. Perhaps as a result of her disdain for her 'aunt' she, too, came to see her as incapable of being a person.

-"I guess so...", she murmured, knowing exactly where her former-teacher at this point was going. She prepared her amulet, not wishing to give it away. "Her name is Webby, by the way.", she added, not getting a response

-"I told you my brother was a good teacher.", her fifteen-minute trainer mumbled, more to herself than to anyone else, and Lena felt awkward. She stared back at her friends.

-"I...uh. Sorry about him. Dying. I guess.", she whispered but it caught the attention of Magica, and she looked positively shocked. "Don't look so shocked. Respect the dead and all that.", that came out wrong. So wrong. If she meant to disrespect him, she couldn't have done worse.

-"Heh...listen, sometimes faking death is a bit easier with magic on your side. If you're willing to share a bit more than the amulet, then maybe I can tell you about him.", she smiled again, though this was one of her more typical smiles, if still an actual smile. Huh. Curious

But just as the newly trained sorceress was about to say something, a 'zap' echoed in the swamp. There was light for a moment, and Magica had to jump to avoid the bolt that zapped a part of her hair and neck. Everyone turned in a split second to see a black-clothed figure with green eyes and a metallic glove on his right hand.

-"And I was just about to pick this four-leaved clover, too...", was the only sentence uttered for a solid minute. And by Gladstone of all people.

The Phantom Blot looked menacing. Pure, undiluted, unadulterated intimidation radiated off of his clothed figure. From afar, you wouldn't be blamed if you thought he was a medieval executioner. The metallic glove on his hand looked more electronic than medieval on closer inspection, but that didn't matter too much. His eyes, fully green by some method, conveyed little emotions, but there's something Lena sensed from him: Hatred.

-"Finally...", his clunky, distorted and terrifying voice announced, his footsteps calculated and his eyes focused. "It seems my searching has led me to the most vile of beings, at last.", he added, closing his fist.

-"The most vile of beings? Listen, I heard some nasty things about ducks, but come on man-", Gladstone tried countering, only to receive a bolt that knocked him over, making him grunt.

-"Not you, you imbecile! These WITCHES!", he cried, hatred drenching his words as he advanced. He most certainly had an accent...But Lena couldn't just pin-point it...though she thought she heard it sometime in the past...

-"These what now?", Magica repeated, apparently offended.

-"WITCHES!", he repeated, not slowing his advance as the group of ducks slowly backed off. "You come in with your magic, destroy cities with your undeserved power, and you...you're never satisfied! You always want more! You never leave something to the people who work for their power!", he ranted shooting a couple of bolts that forced the group the yell and retreat further to Magica's hut.

-"Oh. Witches. I think I still hate you, but a little less than when I thought you said-"

-"It would just be like you to show up now, huh?!", back to interrupting Magica, it was Lena who couldn't keep it in her head anymore. "I spend an hour with Magica to learn how to find you and you just show up like that?! Couldn't you have came in a little early?! Do you have any idea what kind of deal we made?!", she complained, ranting at him, and forcing him to do a double take on her words.

-"Not only are you a witch, but you are a sore loser. I could make my nonna's pasta with that much salt!", he mocked, doing a small laugh that almost sounded dead...like, the whole laughing part was there, but there was no spirit behind it. Just a sick, twisted glee.

-"Hey, hold it there for a minute, you're italian?", Magica asked, flabbergasted. Ah. Right. Sometimes Magica lost control of her British accent in front of Lena. Now she remembered. But really? This was the thing she asked about? Why would that matt-

-"Indeed, and my heart shall always remain there! It is why I find great pleasure and cleaning Napoli of your filth!", he growled, firing another shot which she barely avoided but backing her into the tree where her hut was located.

-"Oooh, you're digging your own grave here, you Blot! I am a proud Neapolitan, and the mere name is much more than wherever you're from!", she challenged, pointing an accusing finger as the other ducks stared at each other. They didn't know what exactly was unfolding in front of them, but it couldn't have been anything good.

-"Don't you dare insult Genova, you wretch!", he shot back, almost losing his nerves for a second before calming down. "No. I am much better than losing my nerves to a fiend like you! Prepare for justice!", he suddenly declared, and the speed of it made Magica unable to dodge the bolt he fired, punching her into Gladstone, who tried hiding behind her, and throwing the both of them into the trunk of her tree. She fell down with a hard 'crack', leaving Gladstone in a duck-shaped impression.

-"Wh-Why me...?!", he lamented before falling. The sorceress tried getting up but she limped.

-"Magica!", Lena yelled. Why did she yell? Why could she possibly yell?...Because if she dies, he's going after them. Definitely. She ran, trying to raise a shield to protect her from another, more frightening zap that would've hit her. Heck, even then, it shattered Lena's shield. Crud, this guy really isn't messing around anymore. But then a pink figure shined behind the Phantom. Yes! Webby was doing it!

-"How's this for justice!", she cried from behind him as she jumped, but he was good. Too good. He managed to spin his entire figure, raise his mechanical weapon and take a fighting pose at once, stopping his assailant's hit. Oh. This guy wasn't going to be any fun, was he?

-"You...Hah! It wasn't enough!", he bragged, pulling the battle-axe from his glove as his previous wielder suffered from the vibrations of hitting a metal. One powerful grab and swing from his glove sent Webby back to her friends, face in the dirt, and with no weapon.

-"What kind of justice are you hoping to achieve?!", cried Violet, hoping to buy them some time. It didn't work, and he only accelerated his assault, firing multiple electrical charges or whatever these were, forcing the ducks to separate.

-"Justice is not my primary concern, hummingbird. I am a criminal, after all, but if I can do my job and rid the world of this evil, then I shall take the initiative!", he calmly replied, not paying any attention to the fact that most of them were getting zapped or were running in terror. "But enough playing around, I do not wish to fail now!", he stopped, preparing what seemed to be a worse, more powerful form of his weapon.

-"Lena, do you think we can take him on?", Violet asked, trying to get them regroup.

-"Nope."

-"Webby, do you have any more weapons?", she turned to the Vanderquack, trying to assume to role of the leader.

-"Don't really think they're going to affect him.", she answered pulling out a few knives that looked like toothpicks comapred to her axe.

-"Mr.Gladstone-"

-"Don't have my luck; can't do anything.", came the reply.

-"...Magica?", she asked her voice a bit desperate.

-"My shotgun has one more round in it.", she declared, pointing it at their attacker, who finished upgrading himself and was about to shoot once again. "We're going to die, aren't we?"

-"Probably.", Lena answered her, watching the black-wearing man as he began shooting at them again.

Well. Nothing else to do but to face the music, as they say. Whoever 'they' is. And whatever that meant. And whatever that had to do with their situation. Oh, give her a break. She didn't have time to think about this fight of theirs. Magic versus one very wronged, apparently, and angry man and his technology. The fight of the century.

The Phantom versus The Sorceress. Time to see how long they can stay alive.

#ducktales #ducktales 2017 #possible spoilers #magica de spell #phantom blot #webby vanderquack #violet sabrewing #lena de spell #my writing #request #Headcanon #In which two Italians compete to see who's more Italian than the other

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wolfpawn · 4 years ago

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I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 149 TW - Mentions of sexual assault

Chapter Summary - Tom decides that it has gone on too long, five weeks after the return from his Infinity War junket and if anything, Danielle had become more peculiar. So he cooks dinner and decides to see if he can get her to talk to him.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long. This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

Tom decides that it has gone on too long, five weeks after the return from his Infinity War junket and if anything, Danielle had become more peculiar. So he cooks dinner and decides to see if he can get her to talk to him.

WARNING - this chapter will reference Tom's work with the victims of sexual assault.

1- this chapter will include fictional sexual assault stories (sadly they are not fictional to some people, this shit does happen) including a close call for Sarah, who is a fictional version of Sarah Hiddleston.

2- the school-age jokes Tom makes are also fictional also. I have ZERO knowledge of teenage Tom Hiddleston, this is fictional.

3- Danielle's current situation is actually based on my friend, who talks to me about it and though many could never want it to be them, some women genuinely feel this way and it does impact their lives and relationships.

I have to put this here because so many people these days seem to forget that this is fiction and not an actual depiction of Tom Hiddleston, his friends and family.

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @wolfsmom1 @black-ninja-blade

The trip to Suffolk to collect Danielle's bike did little to quell the odd mood Danielle seemed to be in. If anything, it confirmed Tom's concerns as his mother seemed to see something was slightly amiss also. The way that Danielle seemed to try and act around the problem she was clearly having but again, she said nothing, no matter how much Tom and Diana gently coaxed her to.

She spoke with normal frequency and used the time in the area to full effect, getting a few things organised, including a new larger cooker ordered while they were there but still, she seemed to lack some of her usual lustre.

Tom also noticed something else change. Since his return from the last bit of the Infinity War promotion, Danielle had not been the least bit interested in intimacy. She had curled in against him at night and was inclined to touch, kiss and hug him but she had not initiated any form of sexual contact and when he did something that could be considered such, she was clearly reluctant so he ceased rather than make her feel uncomfortable. But it was becoming peculiar now. They had never gone so long in each others presence without some form of sexual activity and it was worrying. Part of him thought it to be because she didn't want him anymore but then she would not curl in against him or even increase her affection in other ways, she would cease all such things. Then he thought it was something to do with her health but surely she would have said something? He was uncertain. She did everything to keep to their normal routine and whatnot outside of it, including going for walks and holding his hand in public, ensuring to smile and give him her attention as she had done before, yet there was something so incredibly different too. It was driving him insane trying to figure out what it was.

They returned from Suffolk and Danielle increased her training load with her bike to assist, and even with fewer work hours, she seemed to be gone for large portions of the day, especially if she needed to go somewhere that allowed her to cycle. By night time every day, she was exhausted and more than once fell asleep on the couch watching TV causing Tom to have to wake her or encourage her to bed.

Also in that time, a full five weeks in each other's company for the majority of the time and not once had Danielle sought him as she had before. It was beginning to take its toll and if he was honest, Tom was becoming angered. Not at the lack of sex in itself, he had gone far longer periods without girlfriends before and he, of course, respected and loved her, so he did not “need” sex with her but because of the lack of communication and the lack of even discussing the matter, that irked him. He simply wanted to know what was the issue.

The evening came where he decided to do something about it and ignoring the precooked meals that Danielle had prepared and frozen for convenience for them and cooked a lovely roast dinner and wore a tighter fitted sweater and pants that he knew that she found appealing. He pulled out all the stops and when he got a text to say she was on her way home from a swimming session, he readied the last of his plans and took out a good white wine for them.

Hearing the key in the front door, he inhaled and prepared for the evening. 'Hey handsome boys.’ Her good humour was apparent as she greeted the dogs. 'What... Tom?’ The smell of the dinner clearly made its way to Danielle. 'Tom?’ She came into view of the kitchen table and her eyes widened before she turned to face Tom and she swallowed as she took in his appearance. 'I...What…? Wait, am I forgetting something? I am, aren't I?’ Her voice was higher than usual as she spoke.

'No, no this is just something I wanted to do. I was hoping we could talk actually.’ Tom explained. He paid close attention to her reactions and for a moment, he saw reluctance. 'Unless you rather not?’ He decided to test another theory and pulled up the sleeve of his jumper and reveal his forearms. On seeing his do that, Danielle visibly took a slight step back and gasped. 'Elle?’

'I...Sure, no...I mean, why wouldn't I...I...why...yes.’ She could not form a cognitive sentence as she looked at him. When he stepped forward, she looked at though she wished to take a step back but found herself stuck to the stop, his larger frame in front of her. 'Tom?’

'Yes, Darling?’

'I...you smell good.’ She looked him in the eye, allowing him to see the physical reactions she was having to him, which, though she had not been willing to do anything about in considerable time, was showing her pupils dilate and betray her arousal. 'I..mean…’

He leant down and kissed her gently, noting her somewhat startled reaction before she pressed her lips against his and pulled herself against his body, continuing to kiss him with more and more intensity. When he pressed her against the wall and pulled back for a moment he looked at her and noticed the force she had to use to stop herself. 'Elle?’

'The dinner…’

'Can wait.’

'No, we should eat.’ She insisted, walking around him and to the table. 'It should be illegal for you to dress like that, you'll give women weakness if you do that in public.’ She joked as she went to the table and took a wine glass. 'I don't think I have seen a wine like this before?’

'It's from a small private vineyard in Italy, it's dark than other wines, stronger.’

'Are you planning on getting me drunk, Mr Hiddleston?’ She smiled playfully.

'Perhaps I am, is there a problem with that?’ He smirked.

'That depends on what the purpose is?’

'Interrogation purposes, to lower your inhibitions and get you to reveal all your secrets to me.’ He stated, waiting for her reaction.

'I don't have many secrets, I dare say that would be a boring and uninteresting endeavour for you.’

'Nothing is uninteresting about you, Danielle Hughes, not to me. So what are these secrets you have from me?’

'Nothing of importance.’ She dismissed. 'So what is it you wished to discuss?’ She asked as she took the wine and drank a large gulp of what was in the glass.

Tom was not as convinced. 'I am doing more of those interviews with these women at present. I just wanted to…’

'Why didn't you say?’ Danielle demanded, putting down her wine glass and rushing over to him, her hands around him. 'Talk to me.’

The concern and care she immediately had for him on him telling her such things rubbished a lot of thoughts he had regarding her not caring for him. 'I am just exhausted from them, I mean, I know this is not about me…’

'But even listening to what they have experienced is exhausting, Tom. Counsellors themselves need to unload from simply listening to people. That is entirely natural. Come on, we'll sit down to this incredible dinner you made and you tell me what is irking and bothering you.’ She encouraged.

Tom swallowed, it was clear that Danielle was very concerned, her reaction was as he always knew it would be in such a situation but yet the way she had reacted when he said that he wanted to talk to her said a lot also. He got the food from the kitchen and placed the plates next to each other, watching how she would react. Surprisingly, her only reaction was to get the wine and bring the glasses over to the two seats, but then she paused and got her plate. He thought for a moment that she was going to sit away from him but instead, she simply sat on the other side of him where the corner of the table separated them but gave her an opportunity to look at him more. 'How...I spoke to a woman today, she is a sex worker.’ He began. Danielle's face was one of understanding as she listened and nodded. 'Several times it happened and she never reported.’

'One, she feels she would be prosecuted as her line of work is illegal and two, she is a sex worker, many people, including women in the #MeToo movement do not see them as victims because they sell sex, but yes, they are, they suffer and they never really report, if they did, numbers would skyrocket. They estimate one in five would become one in three. That numbers of assaults reported would go up too. It's a reason many want the profession legalised, they argue it would help those in the profession be safer. Others argue it makes it easier for sex trafficking, I personally think something needs to be done to protect these women. I've seen it myself in my training. They build up this skin and accept it as an occupational hazard. I mean a slight burn from hot pots is an occupational hazard, not being raped and beaten. My heart goes out to them and I feel they are so brave to come forward. How are you after that? Tell me what's it causing you to think.’

Tom sighed. 'I just feel...I don't really know how to describe it. I cannot imagine the fear it is to be a woman these days.’

'There is no “these days”, it has always been something that has occurred. Take a look at Jack the Ripper in 1888, women have, throughout history been nothing short of objects. That is why this is a step forward. You listening is a way to start getting men to understand. It is so important to educate, you can talk to others. The harsh reality is many men won't listen to a woman as they do a man.’

'Then I was talking to a friend of mine, from college. I nearly choked on my drink when she turned up in front of me and she told me what a casting director told her to do to get a role...she has never worked in that part of the industry, he made her not want to. But when she said no…’

'He did not accept no and got what he wanted anyway and declined her the role to boot.’ Danielle nodded. 'That is very hard to listen to.’ She took his hand in hers. 'You are so incredible to give these women someone to talk to who empathises and does not want to take their stories and make them about yourself. For so many, saying it is hard, so to have someone listen as you have, it matters so much.’

'Sarah told me something too. She spoke to me about it a few weeks ago, when I said I was doing this. She told me about a time in college where if one of her friends had not called a guy to come over and help, she could have been...’ He said. 'My sister. She...she never told us.’

‘Many people go their whole life without saying anything to anyone about what happened them.’ Danielle stated, looking at the food on her plate. 'Many don't think what they endured is not worthy of the attention that they feel should be focused on other victims. Some think sexual assault without penetration is not as bad as rape so they just stay quiet.’

Tom shook his head. 'When I was younger, we used to joke in school about girls and….I feel so bad about it now.’

'Did you ever hurt a girl? Or a boy for that matter, in all of this, we have to remember there are men that have been assaulted also.’

'No, never. I felt awkward laughing along back then, but I never….I always thought of Emma and Sarah.’

'That's natural, we project. We often all do that. “Imagine that it was us and ours” sort of thing. You can comprehend the severity of something without doing that, but when we project ourselves and our families into a situation, we feel it more. It's natural. You were able to look at the children in Sudan and see them, see their suffering and feel heartbroken but if you imagined your own niece in that situation, it hits you harder and that is because as much as their lives matter to you, our own families are always one step closer to us and we feel that more. It is the same with this.’ Tom nodded. 'How old were you when those guys made those jokes?’

'Fifteen or sixteen, I think. It doesn't make it right.’

'No, it doesn't. But be the man to tell boys that age that that's not the right thing to do. Make it that if Emma has a little boy in the future, that he knows that is not how we talk about the opposite sex. Learn from it, teach from it. And don't be under any false impression that girls are not sometimes idiots too. I went to school with girls, I am a girl, I can assure you, some young women need a good dose of cop on too. I mean, they are grabbing men by the package and saying very inappropriate things to the opposite gender too. I think this generation will either make or break equality, depending on the level of self and general accountability. if people acknowledge self fault and fault among us all, we could come out of this far better a world, we can only hope and see, so long as we work on ourselves.’

'What is your fault then?’

Danielle's brows rose. 'We have to go to bed sometime this week, I cannot start listing now. I am not perfect, Tom. I know this and I never pretend to be. I suffer jealousy, envy, other such things. I suppose I also have to work on a few things. Though, thankfully, I don't see men as sex objects, so I have that one down.’ She joked.

'Except me of course?’ He gave a playful smile.

'Oh, you are not included there, especially with the pant and sweater combo mixed with that cologne.’ She grinned before she bit her lip and looked at her dinner again.

'Elle?’ She looked at him again but it took a minute as she did not seem to want to. 'I need to ask, have I done something to you?’

'What?’ She had not expected him to say such a thing. 'No.’

'What has changed. You are not the same recently. I am worried, everyone is starting to worry. Mum, me, Sarah, you won't even meet Sophie or Emma.’ Danielle chewed her lip, unable to keep eye contact with him. 'At first, I thought you were homesick, you only have that Radio na Gaeltachta on all the time now, but now I am fairly certain it's not that and you are filling your schedule up again rather than having any free time and you used to do that before because you were avoiding being lonely, but you have me and our friends and family, so why are you doing it? Is it me?’

'No.’ She answered quietly.

'No what? No, you're not homesick? No, you're not avoiding being lonely? No, you don't have me, our friends and family? Or no, it's not me?’

'No, it's not any of that, it's me.’ She looked at her hands.

'I...is there something wrong?’

'Not physically, no.’ Tom's concern only rose. 'No, I don't have depression or that either.’ She assured him. 'It's...fuck, I...if I tell you, you'll literally run away and tell me to get out of your home.’ There were genuine fear and tears in her eyes.

‘Elle, talk to me, please, Darling. I am going mad not knowing what is getting you down.’

'It's so stupid.’ She sniffed, wiping away a tear.

'If it makes you like this, I doubt it.’

'But…’

'No, Elle, no buts. Even if it is just in your head, if it's not really something serious and you know it is not but your mind is still telling you that it is, that is very important. I am not going to run away. After a year and a half together, we have been through some difficult times, no matter what it is, we can overcome it.’ He urged her. 'But you really have to tell me. We cannot work if you refuse to open up.’

'I...I just feel so odd recently. I went to the doctor about it, well, I went about ensuring I was okay to do an Ironman, but I mentioned it too and I was just told it happens sometimes and if I feel the same on a few weeks, to change my contraception.’ Tom frowned, thinking such to be an odd diagnosis. 'I think it is hormone related.’

'What?’

'I...I am scared to say.’

'Tell me, please.’

'I can't even look at Emma and today I went to the swimming pool and as I was going in, a class was coming out and I felt so fucking envious, I fucking cried, how stupid is that?’ Danielle scoffed.

‘Envious of what?’ Tom asked.

'That they were pregnant.’ Tom's eyes widened. 'See, I can see it in your face.’

'Wait, so this is about pregnancy?’ Tom asked, needing clarification. 'You want a baby?’

'No, I don't. I am not ready for one, I know I'm not. I am so busy with work, we're not there yet, it's the worst timing but literally, everywhere I look there are babies, all the people around me are having babies and my stupid brain is telling me I should have one and I don't want one yet. I see cute little outfits and instead of my usual “Get this for Sophie or for Emma”, I think I need it. I don't fucking need it. I have my bar and I am not losing you and my head is so messed up and I really have no idea how to stop it. I thought if I took the job and did my goal of the Ironman and its training it would calm it but it's not and I have no idea what to do. I miss my friend but seeing her makes me feel so bad and I am sorry I am a fucking mess.’

Tom just looked at her for a time, trying to figure out what to even say. He was incredibly relieved it was not some of the scenarios that his brain had created such as she stopped loving him or she had been having an affair with the guy from work under the guise of training that he knew were preposterous, yet his brain still pondered. But also he could see the turmoil this had created in her. She was clearly having severe problems in her own mind settling this. He had heard of it, more than once. Hell, even Ben had confessed it have been why the relationship with his last girlfriend ended. He wanted kids and she never did, so they agreed to do what they both wanted even though that meant ending their relationship. To have such an argument with one's self clearly did not go well, going by Danielle's current situation.

He had to agree, they were not ready. He wanted her to himself for another time yet, he wanted to wait a little longer before they would consider such things as a family. Were her bar to fail and she got pregnant, he would not see it as a catastrophic event but if they could decide when suited them and did it then, it would be idyllic. 'Well, it explains a lot.’ He stated, feeling a little dumb saying only that.

'I am sorry for being such a terrible partner and for...well, neglecting us. I just, my brain is all warped and it correlated sex and babies, which, really, it does go from to the other really and this is what happened.’

'I wish you told me sooner, I have been so worried.’

'I was terrified you'd run away from me.’

'Elle, we've mentioned the possibility of children before now. This is not a new subject matter to us. In time, I very much would love to have children with you. And the idea that your body is telling you that you should ignore logic and have a baby with the fine gentleman you have procured for yourself is a great compliment to my ego.’ Danielle could not help laughing at his statement as she looked at him lovingly. ‘When you are happy in work, when you have achieved your goals, however utterly bonkers they are, then we will talk about taking that thing out of your arm and having a baby but until then, I really cannot see Emma declining a hand with Ava.’

'I think it's a fight between Eva and Lucy now.’ She informed him.

'For fuck sake, she is due within the fortnight and they have decided to change the name eighty times at this stage.’

'Could you imagine after all of this, the ultrasound was wrong and it was a boy?’

Tom laughed. 'He will start school nameless.’ Danielle joined in. 'I can't say I understand what is going on with you fully, Elle, but I do know it's real to you and it is causing you a lot of unrest and it hurts me to see that. But it is hurting Emma too, you being distant has been hard on us, we all miss that spark in you that we all love and I think she should have you there for her, if you can be.’

'You're right. I am not being a good friend. I just feel so weird.’

'I understand, in a manner. I don't understand your thoughts per se, but I understand that you don't feel yourself either.’ He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it gently.

'I don't deserve you.’

'No one does really.’ He barely got the last word out before she hit him with her napkin playfully.

#i hate you i love you #chapter 149 #wolfpawn #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fic

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seb-owns-these-tatas · 5 years ago

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Chapter 1 (Winter’s Gem) (B.Barnes AU)

HITHERTO (Sneakpeak)

Characters: Gigolo!Bucky Barnes x You (AU)

Summary: Bucky Barnes has been scouted by your boss in Felicity Night, you were just a mere young, cleaner in Felicity night and have been living in the basement of the club for all your life. He's the most wanted Gigolo in the city, and taking him away from eager, thirsty women seemed to be impossible especially if he chose to be a Gigolo as his way of living.

Warning: Profanities. Profanities. Inappropriate words. Oh, and a sentence that tells the reader she is being abused by her damn mother which ISN'T AT ALL RIGHT BECAUSE ABUSING PEOPLE IS A BIG NO-NO.

If you're wondering why your mother has two names here, it's because if ever your mother has the same name written on one of the options, then you can choose the other one instead. 😉

Words: 3,457

A/N: Aye! Here ya’ go! First chapter! TELL ME WHAT YA THINK ABOUT IT!

Disclaimer: PNG's and pictures aren't mine. However, the whole series, one shots and edits are from moi.

Loud music blared around the pub. The lights were opened dimly, giving a sexy and alluring effect for the men who were seducing and acting sensually for every woman who paid for them today, looking like they were attracted and in love with them, their gazes looking even fake because every damn thing they do was purely work.

Felicity Night's having a laborous day today. More women were entering minute by minute. Their clothes different with one another, some were floral, colorful, lame, simple, neon colored and some were revealing, sexy and obscene.

"Y/N! Drop the mop and go to the kitchen! Hurry!" Olivia/Luscia passed by you, smiling at the customers and guarding every move that the Gigolos and Strippers make.

Why does she need to keep an eye on them? It was because she's a brothel keeper for the men. It's her job to keep them in check and to eye their earnings. She had them chained on their necks, dragging them around like lost puppies.

You timidly dropped the mop inside the dirty bucket. Now alert, nervous and fidgety when you heard your mother started calling you for demands.

Like a robot that was told what to do, you quickly nodded and trotted towards a flimsy, black double doors that was leading to the kitchen, wondering why she was telling you to go there.

What were you even going to do in the kitchen?

"Y/N! You're here! Great!" Wanda, one of your waitresses called out loud, startling 'Rhodes' who was the main chef in the club.

You stood beside her, not knowing what to do because it seemed like you aren't even needed in there. So, why did your mother called you to go the kitchen?

"Did Olivia/Luscia tell you anything?" Wanda curiously asked, saying your mother's name mindlessly while grabbing a tray full of delicious snacks that were perfectly made to pair up with the alcoholic drinks.

'She didn't tell me anything. I just followed her immediately..Like what I always do.' was what you wanted to say, but all you did was shake your head in all honesty, enable to speak because it felt right not to.

"Olivia/Luscia didn't even bother telling you why," She mumbled, shaking her head in disappointment, maybe because of the reason that she'll be wasting her time on explaining what you were supposed to do. "You're going to be Sharon's subordinate tonight, she's not here and Rhodes badly needs a helping hand,"

"So..." You pondered, finally connecting the dots.

Wanda nodded, placing the tray on her shoulders with her palm placed under it, fully facing you as she was getting ready to go. "So, you'll be Rhodes temporary sous-chef today! You know how insufficient we are with the laborers who work in here. Sucks right?"

Wanda was right. The club lacks people who decently works in Felicity night. The Strippers and Gigolos who work were much more numerous than the staff. Basically, the place was fully stripper and gigolo galore and you guys were completely outnumbered.

"Who's gonna be cleaning outside, then?"

She shrug shoulders, her dark hair swaying in the same time with her movements as she gave you a look, "I don't know. You're the only one who cleans here besides us, we only wipe the tables every time a customer leaves..maybe after you're done being a sous-chef, you'll get to clean all the mess later,"

'Great. More work for me. Yay.'

She skedaddled her beautiful ass away before leaving you with Rhodes who was busily frying something delicious. His movements were ceased as he gave you a side glance, "What are you waiting for?! Come here!"

You speedily walked towards your co-worker who was hotheaded, irked at the thought of how much work he was supposed to do. He handed you his spatula and spun around, stopping behind you as you heard him quickly chopping ingredients away.

"Fry that bitch until it turns golden brown. I hope you're capable of being smart unlike Sharon who doesn't even know the difference between brown and black,"

"Why isn't she here, anyway?" You apprehensively asked.

"She couldn't walk for a couple of days. Sharon gave us an idiotic excuse saying she stepped on a rubber duckie and fell flat, ass first. Telling us she sprained her spinal cord,"

"Oh, Poor her." You uttered lackadaisically. If it wasn't for her rubber duckie, you'd be peacefully cleaning outside, but no. She gave you more work and you were left suffering.

Rhodes cackled out loud, startling your quiet soul, you accidentally threw the fish fingers..finger fishes..or whatever it was even called. It flew towards a metal table, landing deliciously with a flop. The perfectly golden-brown skin was tempting you to grab and eat it instead, your stomach grumbling in starvation.

Your mouth watered along with a hand aching to take the elongated snack. Yet, you stopped because Rhodes began talking again, "You totally believed her excuse? Sharon entirely hates ducks because she was attacked by a duck one time. Even those kind of toys that resemble a duck scares her, plus she isn't even a fan of kiddie toys except those sex toys that she keeps in her bag,"

With difficulty, you tried reaching for the fish fingers. Extending your arms towards it, the other continuously frying those bitches till it turns golden brown.

When you felt the crumbs on the tips of your fingers, without any hesitation, you grabbed it immediately like you've been starved for a month. Scared to get caught, you shoved it in your mouth making you cough.

"I saw that," Rhodes announced, bumping his hips beside yours, making you stumble aside and away from the scrumptious looking fingers.

You faced him, keeping some of the fish fingers you were chewing on the side of your cheeks like a hamster, leisurely chewing as you savored its taste. This was your first time eating it and it tasted damn delicious.

"I'm..shorry. I've never tried this before and it just shmells so delicious that I had to try it," You unethically chewed, giving Rhodes a mischievous wide grin.

He pointed the spatula at you, the oil dripping on the white floor, giving you a friendly smile, "You're lucky you're just a temporary helper. If you were Sharon, I'll be giving her an early death because of sneaking a piece of Fish fingers inside her mouth,"

You smiled. The first time you've ever smiled within a month. "What would be the cause of her death?"

Rhodes spun around, with a lopsided smile..He gestured towards what was hidden below his leather belt. "Death by my bisexual dick, Aye! That woman likes big sausages! Even too horny for her own good!"

"Ooh! I love sausages too!" You abruptly voiced out, a bolt of energy coming out of you as you heard the word. Sausages gives you life. You love sausages. Especially long and big ones!

Rhodes gave you an amused visage, chuckling to himself. "You like big, large sausages too? Wait, What's your name, Boo?"

"Y/N. And yes! I love big and long sausages! Especially Wieners! They satisfy my hunger!" You eyed him with that naughty glint in your eyes, and Rhodes was surely busy with frying, you shrugged to yourself and decided to wear your halo. Angel Y/N. That sounded much better in your head.

"With the sausages we have in this country? How will it not satisfy you?"

"You love sausages too?" You questioned him, seeing the unfinished hotdogs left undone and were in detainment. Hotdogs are sausages too. Hotdogs tastes delicious. We shall never forget them.

So, you walked towards where the chopping board was, grabbing the sharp knife in your hands, and eyeing it with an unquestionable thought that you could sneak a piece to taste.

"I love sausages too much that I take it everyday,"

A piece of hotdog jumped on the other side of the table as you intentionally did it. You hurriedly sneaked your arm out and grabbed it, shoving the piece in your mouth before you felt Rhodes knock on your head to scold your sneaky ass.

"I hope you get diarrhea from being Gluttonous,"

"Sausages hardly give me diarrhea. Milk does because it gives me indigestion," You shrugged, taking another piece before Rhodes knocked your head a lot harder than before.

"Lucky for the milks, then! It could give the worms living in your stomach a reason to stop chewing shit, "

You've only been in the kitchen for an hour or two before Rhodes kicked you out. You have been too sneaky that the customers were complaining why their orders were becoming lesser in portions than the usual. Their complains should have made you guilty as charged but you were a desperate woman that has been living her life with difficulty just to be alive and healthy.

Which was untrue because you could never be healthy. Your asthma's a huge hindrance in becoming healthy.

You weren't feeling guilty because you were nervous that 'Olivia/Luscia' Your mother, would sneak from behind, pull you inside a dark room where she usually abuses you in discreet, just to lessen her anger with the world and how her life ended.

Apparently, you took it all. You were the living form of a human punching bag.

That was okay. Because you know deep inside your mother's heart..She loves you, and with love? Pain always comes in between it. Although, you were having it literally.

You skipped your way towards the bar, seeing 'Stan'. An old bartender who has been working for four years now. He's old enough to have all of his hair white, a face evident that he's already in his late 70's.

Sliding the lock of a small brown Dutch door, You pushed it with ease, making way towards Stan who was busy mixing a drink for a blonde woman wearing a skimpy black dress with wavy, long hair ending on top of her small hips, looking distressed as she was staring right out in the middle of nowhere, currently trapped in a daydream.

"Y/N! Need a brown paper bag?" Stan loudly called out. Hands shaking as he handed the drink in front of the lady. You jumped on the spot, startled with his loud, screechy voice that could probably be heard yards away despite of how loud the music was.

Stan have been your instant human paper bag. He knows how to deal with your asthma. More than what your mother knows, and he basically is your paper bag provider. Always ready to help and hand you your needs.

The tips of your fingers stung when you grabbed a clean, translucent glass from an open brown shelf. That was the result from sneaking pieces of newly cooked food inside the kitchen. Karma always strikes fast like a Roadrunner.

"I'm parched! I just need a drink!" You yelled through the loud, sensual music. Turning the faucet on before filling your glass with tap water.

"An alcoholic drink or?"

"I meant a glass of water! You know how I hate alcoholic drinks, Stan!" You emptied the glass of water in just a gulp. Finishing till the last drop, you washed your glass on the sink before drying and returning it back to where it belongs.

The quiet, young, attractive lady in black turned her head towards you. A scowl evident on her face before returning her gaze back to who she was mindlessly staring at. You shrugged at her bitterness towards life, trying to understand that..maybe she's just snobbish because something terribly happened to her.

Stan walked towards you after serving the woman's cocktail drink. You gave him a look and gestured towards the woman with your curious E/C eyes, wondering why she was looking crestfallen. Stan knows everything that bugs his customers out. He simply loves interloping to waste some of his extra time, and to probably entertain himself with some hot, interesting scoops.

You were meters away from the gloomy woman when Stan started spitting gossip, "That woman," He eyed her secretly, subtly pointing his index finger at her, "She comes here every day, every night,"

"For who?" You watched the frowning woman, squinting your eyes, trying to figure out who she was staring at from afar until you could finally see who she was being obsessed with.

So, she's one of those woman who's obsessed and are head over heels with those Gigolos.

The woman looks beautiful, proper and nice. You think she deserves better than to be with a Gigolo. There are probably tons of men who would follow her like a puppy because she looks lovely and charming, yet she chose to pay and be with one of those men who only care for wealth and a breathtaking release.

"For him," Stan pointed his index finger forward. You followed where his finger was pointed at and you immediately saw 'Loki' sitting on a stool, just across the bar from where you're standing. Loki, another Gigolo who had an over the shoulder wavy black hair was sitting behind the bar with a smirk. His white teeth glowing in contrast with the bar's blue lights.

"Hello, Lady Y/N. So, have you finally consider my offer in being friends?" Loki said enthusiastically with a lopsided smile, a hint of a British accent slipping in between his words, his green eyes looking hopeful and slightly mischievous. No. You didn't want to be friends with these guys. They just wanted to get in your pants or they were probably just thirsty to taste some young coochies.

Stan was quick to snatch a thick magazine out of nowhere, immediately whacking him on the head, "Can you not block my way, asshole?!" He yelled, voice cracking when he did.

Loki moaned in pain before dropping his head to clear your view. Groaning and mumbling incoherent profanities before propping his elbows on the edge of the bar, his forehead now dropped, resting on his forearms before cussing inaudible mumbles. Soon came into view was a man standing at the farthest end of the pub, with two adolescent women on either side, while two adult women over 20's was standing in front of him, demanding him with something you couldn't decipher. He barely looked at the younger women who were hugging his sides like a Koala. His hands were inside of his pockets and his whole attention was on the adult women who were hastily searching through their bags.

You squinted your eyes, hardly seeing the man's face since the pub's lighting were dim and dark, it started getting dim when Thor began stripping on stage. But, you never tried looking twice because all you saw was a perspiring, muscular man who was only clad in his underwear.

Who looked hot by the way. Well, every stripper was. You've had the time to ogle at them all the time, and tonight your mission was to see the face of the Gigolo that every woman seemed to be obsessed about.

Oh and Thor's naked now. The club's strippers mostly go all in every night. It was why people loved going in Felicity Night. They always get an eyeful of hot, sexy strippers with their one of a kind performances.

"Girls and women swoon over him, even men who were women at heart too, not that it isn't normal for these dickheads because their lives are far from normal,"

You squinted your eyes hard on the man being surrounded by different women, yet you still couldn't see his face. "Wait, Who?"

"Him. The most highly requested Gigolo in the city," Stan pointed at the man who looked blurry in your perspective.

The older women who had expensive designer bags were now on his side. The younger ones shoved away while the richer looking women were quick to clung beside him like a monkey. They seem to force him with something because they were nudging his sides while stomping their feet like a child having tantrums.

"He's only been here for a month, But, he seem to catch every woman's attention or man, you name it, Cutie. Man's a charming, gorgeous, handsome fucker.. With that cheeky smirk, he's going to be getting all the bucks," Stan paused, taking a breather before he continued, "Lad's looking like he's going in for the kill! Purely dangerous when you get your heart involved!" He shook his head, tutting when he saw the younger women trying to put up a fight.

So, He sounds like an interesting man for these women to be obsessing over him. What does he even look like for them to go down on their knees just to have him?

"Gossip says he was recruited by the big boss because of how in demand he is with everyone. The man seems to be a VIP. He even has his own room on the third floor where our boss's office is located, and where Olivia/Luscia's room is located too," He paused, the glum woman appearing to catch his attention as he sent her a look, she seems pretty tense and mad right now.

Though, that didn't faze him. "--However, some relevant people says he was bought by the boss as her slave. A slave contract I suppose. But, those are just guesses..Maybe, Our cougar of a boss likes him too, and she's keeping him for her own benefit. Don't you think?"

A slave contract? Is that even possible? Or is that even being used today? No. Definitely a no. You didn't even know why he's even in the club on the first place.

You thought about it for a second, your mouth agape before shutting it in a thin line like a gold fish. It makes your head tired, especially when you're not really interested on the man he was talking about. "He's probably staying here to earn more cash,"

Stan shrugged, grabbing a wet glass to wipe on, using the white cloth hanging on his shoulder, "Probably. We never got the chance to talk yet, but by the looks of it. He looks like a great guy,"

"When were you right, Mr. Lee?" You lightheartedly chimed, he gave a hearty laugh, nodding repeatedly to himself as he felt the confidence strike in him. "All the time, Y/N. All the damn time. I think you'll be eating your words once you see the lad,"

You both laughed it off as you saw the broad back of the man you were gossiping about, he was now leaving with those two rich women in their 30's. Ah, Typical. Typical Gigolos. Indeed, They'll choose those who were prosperous instead.

'Nah, I'll probably choose who was wealthier too, If I were them.' The voices in the back of your head spoke.

Deep down inside you wanted to know more about this guy, you wanted to know why he was the talk of the town, why he was worth the cash, why he had the title of the most requested Gigolo in the city, and because of the hidden enthusiasm..you couldn't help but shoot more questions at your old friend.

"What's his name?" You gnaw your lower lip, your full attention towards your friend, feeling the sudden interest surge in you.

Stan leaned in close to your ear, mentally patting himself on the back as you were slowly showing your interest towards his favorite man among the faction of Gigolos...

"He goes by the name, Winter..and if I were you..I would want to know more than just his stage name, Y/N."

Oh, were you going to find and ask more than just this mysterious man's name.

First chapter! Tell me what y’all think, tater tots! FEEDBACKS WILL BE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED BY MOI!

XOXO,

TATA

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prkrnichols · 4 years ago

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“What do you mean he’s not coming?”

“He said something about an upcoming exam…”

“Music theory? When has Parker ever had to study for a music theory exam before?”

“I’m not getting into it David… you’ll have to go and— Brenden! Brenden! I saw that…”

Whatever his middle-son had just done or was still doing had little affect on stopping David’s movement, as he walked into his ex-wife’s new house and made his way upstairs to where he assumed the bedrooms would most likely be. It annoyed him that he was in a position to look stupid as he tapped on various doors and questioned if his son was currently behind one of them. So, by the time a door did open up, David didn’t actually mind that the occupant wasn’t Parker. He knew the girl anyway. Tahnee… used to babysit his boys, and even if David hadn’t exactly interacted with her outside of slipping his wife an extra fifty to tip her for her good work… he smiled. “Hi Tahnee… it looks like you’re on the mend…” He’d heard about the accident through Sarah. A conversation that had made him send a text (something he loathed) to the son he was still currently in search of, where he expressed in quite a lengthy paragraph that the news had rattled him. And it had. It was just, after the last weekend the two had spent together, maybe he could forgive Parker for not responding to it. Just a misunderstanding though, because even if he had lost his temper a few weeks earlier with the brunette, it wasn’t the same thing and of course he’d have cared if Parker had been the one to get hurt. “I’m after Parker—” He watched as the blonde pointed down the hall— just a room down from her own, “ah, thank you.” With a smile, he turned, finishing off the short walk between her bedroom and his son’s before raising his fist to the door and lightly knocking, “Parker…” No reply. He twisted the handle, surprised to find it unlocked, as he pushed forward and walked inside.

The room was messy and it irked him. He’d told his son before that no one respected a sloth and yet… he shifted around the piles of clothes as he walked over to Parker sitting on the edge of the bed, his feet clipping in and out of his snowboard bindings. So, it was the silent-treatment today, was it? He sighed, moving around till he could sit down on the bed beside him, “new board?” He watched as Parker shrugged and slid his boots out of the bindings again- click. “Your mom said you don’t want to go—” Another shrug, but at least time words followed, as Parker told him that he had some test— and bullshit. But he’d play along, “she mentioned that too…” he really didn’t care though. “I took the time off work, because I thought a week away— just us… and your brothers was what you wanted. No school, no homework, no piano…” he watched as Parker’s had twisted, disbelief on his face— “really?” David nodded. Where were they going to find the time to play the piano when they’d be snowboarding as much as they were planning to? “Well, you can try and pack your baby-grand, but it might look a little weird to the Swiss if you try and check that in into your hotel room—” he smiled, hand coming up to grab Parker’s neck affectionately, as his son joined in and let out a soft laugh, “come on Parker. You’re not going to leave me alone with Brenden all week long right…”

“well now that you mention it...” Parker let out another laugh, as his father’s grip tightened and he playfully pushed him back down on the bed, before standing up and telling him to get his stuff together or they’d end up missing their flight. Fortunately, for Parker he was actually already packed... the decision to not go only being a fairly recent one, “yeah... I’ll be down soon.” He watched as his father left. His hands dropping down to his board and picking it up, slipping it back into its protective bag as he made quick work gathering the rest of his things. It took him two trips to get everything and by the time he was walking back the second time around, his hands were only carrying his headphones and phone anyway. He made a brief stop outside of Tahnee’s room, contemplating saying ‘goodbye’ before deciding against it. It would be a weird thing to do and the last thing he wanted was for her to take his simple-enough goodbye and shift it into something inane like, he was saying it because maybe he’d like miss her or something. Which no... it was just goodbye-- catch you in a week and a bit, if you haven’t decided to take on anymore suicidal waves or anything by then. So, yeah, no... it was better to just leave without saying it and let his mom express something to her later, after he and his brothers were already on a plane to Switzerland.

Hugging his mom goodbye, Parker pushed Max back towards the back of the car, because he didn’t actually think he’d be riding shotgun, right? Pfft. That would be the day. After sliding into his dad’s rental Mercedes and slipping his headphones down over his ears, blocking out any chance his father might try to get him to play that infamous Nichols’ car ride game of theirs, Parker let out a sigh and closed his eyes. His loss of sleep the other night, must’ve finally caught up with him, because he ended up falling asleep the entire ride over to the airport and for a large portion of the flight to Switzerland, too. The rest being filled with watching re-runs of Archer with Brenden and stifling their laughs as their dad snored in the seat beside them both. By the time they were touching down, Parker was so amped to just have his feet back on the ground, jetlag didn’t seem to have had an effect on him. So, after checking into the hotel, Parker was quick to grab his shit up and force everyone but Max (weak) straight into the powder.

━━ ✦

“I’m king of the w--” He tackled Max into the ground with a laugh, as the younger brunette groaned out and grabbed the snow up from under him to force into Parker’s hair-- “hey...” It was snowball next that collided with both their faces, Brenden letting out a roaring laugh as he balanced on his board and wiggled his eyebrows at them both, “come on pussies! Come get me.” Parker looked at him, then back down at Max, before they both smirked and jumped up. Oh he was so dead. Running over to their boards, Parker didn’t wait for Max to click his boots back into his bindings, pushing off and trying to catch up to Brenden. Shit, though. His brother was fast. It took a few aerodynamic moves of sheer brilliance (aka leaning over as far as he could without forcing his body into a nose dive), before he was just behind him... Max too. Sweeping in front of him, Parker laughed as Brenden had to make a quick counter... oh they had the bastard now. Leaning down, Parker gathered up as much snow as he could and started to clap it into a ball, before he set his eyes on Brenden’s head and threw--. DAMN... he missed. Not his fault. It was just hard to aim and board at the same time. Max was next to take a swing at it, but unsurprisingly he missed too. Swooping down to pick up a bit more snow, Parker repeated his earlier actions only this time... the sweet sound of snow connecting with the back of Brenden’s head and the visual of his younger brother toppling head over feet into the snow was the result. Letting out a roar of laughter, as both Max and himself slid in front of him-- only Brenden wasn’t swearing and picking up snow to throw back at them-- he wasn’t moving at all. Scared shitless, Parker dropped down to his knees, grabbing his hands and twisting Brenden over-- and the little fucker. His brother laughed as he threw his hand up in his face, “Got ya!” Oh, he was definitely dead now. Climbing on top of him with his board still attached to his feet, Parker couldn’t help but start to laugh too... Max joining in, as the three of them started wrestling one another into the snow. It had been awhile since all three of them had not been at each other’s heads it was just-- it was nice not to be.

Rolling onto their backs, the three brothers let their laughs continue, before two girls stepped in front of them, shading them from the sun’s glare-- “You two are over eighteen, right?” Parker stole a glance at Max, deciding to cut him some slack for once, “yeah...” he watched Max eyes widen briefly, before nodding and sitting up a little more. “Okay, cool-- we’re having a party tonight--” The brunette watched as one of the girl’s picked up Max’s hand, removed his ski glove, and started to write-- what he could only guess from his current position was the party’s address. Cool. Hot. “Yeah, we’ll see what we can do...” He watched as the blondes smiled, said something in what? German?, before winking, turning back around and walking over to the ski lift opposite them. “OH SHIT! You’ve got to take me too!” The boy could dream. “No, we need you to cover and if you do, Max will-- Max will give you full access to his laptop-- no parental locks.” HEy--Ugh! Parker elbowed him... hard, because Max would thank him later. “Won’t you, Max?” He nodded and with a new mischievous glint in his own eyes, Brenden clapped his hands together and told them both they had nothing to worry about, he was on it. Which in the end meant that he’d manipulated Connor into asking their dad to take him to some Swiss film festival, so he could haul up in Connor and his hotel bedroom and take full advantage of Max’s collection of illegally downloaded movies and uh, other things. “Will you relax...” Seriously, he was sweating and it was snowing-- it was going to look weird. “Connor said it was going to run late and you know how dad gets about arty stuff... We’ll be fine and if he does catch us, I’ll take the fall... okay?” What was the worst that could happen? He’d take away the piano for a week? Great. He lifted his hand up to the back of Max’s neck, telling him to breathe and it would be fine, just as the door pulled back and the girls they’d seen earlier greeted them with a smile. Oh, yes tonight was going to be great.

━━ ✦

He looked over at the blonde he’d just slept with... Not something he would’ve done if Lana and himself had been on better terms, but since they weren’t he’d figured why not. Plus, it wasn’t like it had meant anything as he slipped back out of the room and wrapped his jacket back around his body, it was just one of those things you did because both of you wanted to. Wondering where Max was, Parker began to look around before he caught sight of his brother standing outside and fuck it must be freezing-- and it was. “Max?” He looked... “Are you okay?” He watched as his brother wiped at his face and turned away from him. “Uh yeah, yeah I’m good.” He wasn’t and even if they had never had the best relationship, Parker wasn’t about to let him be alone right now. “No, you’re not... what happened?” He walked up and got him to turn back around to face him... watching as he let out a laugh, a sob, and a smile at the same time... “I-- I uh had sex.” It took a moment, before Parker’s face shifted, because Max wasn’t just saying he’d had sex... he was saying he’d just had sex for the first time... and okay... “Oh, but that’s a good thing, right?” He watched as Max tried to smile, but it was clear now that he was upset about the whole thing, and okay... Parker could fix this. “You know, no one ever lasts very long their first--” he shook his head. Mumbling something out that Parker couldn’t quite get until he’d asked him to repeat himself and Max said it again, “I thought it would be more special.... that’s all.” Oh. Oh. He got it. “You know... same.” Max’s eyes widened as he tried to make sense of what Parker was saying, “but, but you slept with Lana didn’t you?” With a sigh, Parker turned to look out at the snow falling into the trees below the deck, “no. I told Lana she was my first, but. I freaked out. Lana kept telling me how special it was all going to be and how happy she was that it was going to be with me... and I just... I don’t know... I panicked. I didn’t think I was going to live up to her expectations of me, so I went out a week before Prom and hooked up with some girl at this college party and the whole thing lasted thirty seconds and I just-- I felt like crap. And it wasn’t like it helped... ‘cause instead of being nervous I would suck, I just felt guilty the entire time I was with Lana, and I couldn’t stay-- well you know... and of course, she pinned it down to first time nerves, but...” he sighed again. It felt weird telling Max this. It felt weird telling Max anything about himself. “So, hey you’re not the only one...” turning back around, his hand found his brother’s shoulder and he gripped it... “I’ll let you in on a secret though. First times... got nothing on the first time you’re with someone you’re actually in love with... now, they’re... they’re special.” He smiled, watching as his brother did the same, and maybe this was it? The thing that finally brought them together, as he wrapped an arm around his neck and reminded him if he ever wanted to see daylight again they really needed to get back to their hotel before their dad woke up in the middle of the night and decided to do a spontaneous room check or something.

━━ ✦

He woke up to an alarm clock that said, 12:06 PM... a groan slipping out of his mouth when he realised, Connor had mentioned their dad wanting to have lunch with everyone. Twisting around in his bed, he looked over to Max’s where the brunette was currently drooling on the top of his pillow-- the urge to swing a pillow at his head not as prominent as it used to be. Apparently their talk last night had shifted things. He was still going to have to get up though, so after removing himself from the tangle of his own sheets, Parker went over and nudged his brother’s shoulder with his hand, “wake up...” Max groaned out in protest, “dad wants us all to have lunch together, remember?” That did it. That always did it. There wasn’t a lot Max wouldn’t do for their father and Parker got it, because there wasn’t a lot he wouldn’t do for his dad, either. His fingers ached at the thought, as he pulled himself over to his suitcase and found clothes his dad would deem suitable enough for their lunch. After they’d both slipped into their clothes and had caught up with Brenden, who said Dad was already with Connor in the dinning hall, the three brothers made their way to the nearest lift and pressed L for lobby.

The nineteen-year-old could already tell it was one of those hotel restaurants that catered for the public as much as its own guests. The room itself grand and filled with people and signs that indicated it had earned itself a Michelin star last year. They walked over to where their dad was currently talking to Connor, smiling, laughing... and it was so weird to see his dad like this, happy... and maybe this trip was actually going to change more than just his relationship with his brother, but his relationship with his dad too. Maybe his dad really was sorry for everything-- and, “didn’t I tell you I had some of the best-looking sons in all of America...” he let out a nervous laugh, as the woman sitting in the chair beside his dad’s table, nodded and told him... if any of them were single, she had a granddaughter she wouldn’t mind-- and fortunately for Parker, the waiter had come to distract everyone... “so, what do you boys want... take your pick... anything off the menu...” He scanned the menu and of course it was all in French, so he didn’t really know what to make of it, besides... oh.... Le Cheeseburger... “cheeseburger.” He looked over at his dad, like he was expecting him to tell him to order something else... something more prestigious, but nope he wanted one too-- they were all getting cheeseburgers... the finest cheeseburgers in all of Switzerland. So, instead of holding onto it-- whatever it was that he’d been holding onto since his fingers had snapped last year, he let it go... and relaxed. "Le Cheeseburgers!”

Turns out, the Swiss can make a really, really good cheeseburger, as Parker finished off his and laughed at Brenden who’d ended up with more on his chin than his mouth. The waiter was back for drink orders now and apparently his dad trusted him enough to order one of his own... “uh, yeah house wine will be great...” he figured it would be. His dad seemed pretty happy about it earlier, so.... “bring us the bottle... and can you find out if we can use that...” He watched as the waiter looked between his dad’s eyes and the piano out on the floor in front and said something like, only the hotel Pianist has access, “I don’t think you understand who my son is and how he could--” “dad it’s okay...” “uh, sorry Sir, but it really is just for--” He watched as his dad stood up and tapped his wine glass with his butter knife. “Excuse me everyone...” the room grew quiet, “I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind if my son played y’all a song on that grand piano of yours...” The room seemed confused but then after one person (an American, of course) started to clap... it didn’t take long for everyone else to fall into line and for the waiter to look around nervously, because what could he do now? Probably just as much as Parker felt he could about the whole situation. “Go on, Parker... get up there and show them what you got...” he looked up... his voice quiet... “I don’t want to.” His dad catching it though, “don’t be stupid... go on... show us all what the great LMU has taught you...” He’d been wrong to think this trip was going to go any differently... God... he’d been so naive... of course his dad would find somewhere for him to play... when had anything been about just them... just them without a set of black and white keys between them. “No...” “Dad, he doesn’t want to maybe just--” “I’m not talking to you Max...” he could see it in his eyes now... that if he said it again he’d regret it but he did it anyway. Standing up and walking out of the restaurant, making his way up to his room because he didn’t want his dad or his brothers to see him right now.

Alone in his room, he found himself reaching out for his phone-- but who was he going to call? His mom? Will? Lana? Would any of them get it? No... The door clicked open and he’d been ready to tell Max, that he needed a minute... because even despite the fact that he seemingly had his side back down there, he still knew that his brother wouldn’t quite understand it still. That he’d always been a little jealous that Parker had a gift that he didn’t and not just that-- a gift he apparently never seemed to appreciate... “DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH YOU JUST EMBARRASSED ME JUST NOW!” he turned around. Ready to face the music. “You promised no piano---” “OH, so me being proud of my son... and his gift... that’s a bad thing is it?” “No it’s just--” “It’s just what! ‘Cause all I see is an ungrateful asshole who doesn’t appreciate the talent I’ve handed down to him and the talent I’ve taught him and forgets...” His father closed in, taking Parker’s hand in between his own... “I can take it away just as easily too..” his fingers wrapped around Parker’s index finger, and before he could do anything-- searing pain shot through it as his father snapped it back. Falling to the ground, his hand wrapping around his hand and now his broken finger, Parker found himself in a position his father had seen him in before, and a position he knew how to take full advantage of... “I’m sick...” his foot kicked into Parker’s ribs hard... and pain that had only been in his finger up till now, spread elsewhere. “And tired...” another kick... more pain... “of you wasting my talent, because...” kick, kick... “you’d rather surf all day...” kick... “than work hard... and...” kick... Parker cried out, as the pain spread throughout his entire body... making it hard for him to think... let alone breathe... “appreciate what I’ve given you...” Leaning down, Parker felt his dad’s hand wrap around his shirt, lifting his face up to his own.... “one day... one day... you’ll wake up and realise... what you’re throwing away... I just hope for you son... it isn’t too late by then.” After another shake of his head, another look at the disappointment his son was to him, David dropped his grip and let Parker fall back down against the edge of the bed... “you know... just like I used to tell your mom... I wouldn’t have to do this... if you’d just show a little more appreciation for what I’ve given you... fuck...” he stood up and after taking one more look at Parker, inching away from him... shook his head and walked back out the door.

━━ ✦

It was another hour or so, before Parker was back up... limping over to bathroom... and closing the door behind him. His finger the first thing he took a second to check out-- and fuck... how was he going to snap it back into place. He looked around and after another few seconds of searching and coming up dry, limped back into the hotel room to find a few mini bottles of vodka instead. With the taste now on his lips he took a few quick and fast breaths before he grabbed ahold of it and snap... “Fuckkkkkkk....” he wanted to pass out... he wanted to... he couldn’t. If Max found him like this he’d know. He wasn’t that dumb and if he knew he might confront his dad and no... this needed to stay between them, because he’d apologise tomorrow... he would. He’d realise that he’d gone too far this time and he’d say he was sorry and besides, he was right... Parker had been ungrateful... he could and should play more... and-- he lifted his shirt... the bruises already beginning to form and coat his entire chest rouge... they’d be purple by tomorrow. Was his rib-- yes.... yes his rib was broken... he was-- he was going to be sick. He ran over and tried not buckle, but he did and the vomit came quick and painfully out of him and into the toilet bowl. Throwing up with a broken set of ribs was a nauseating experience and one that kept him down there on the floor repeating the painful motion, until his stomach was empty and he’d heard Max come back into the room.

He could hear him now, pacing outside the door, his eyes slipping shut, begging... just begging him to forget it.. and go away... but he didn’t. “Uh, just wanted to make sure you were okay--” He couldn’t let Max think for a moment he wasn’t, so he went for the easier option out of the two.. the one he knew would work and keep working for the rest of the trip, “what? You think because of last night... we’re like the brothers who actually ‘care’ about each other now or something? Leave me alone.” “Parker...” “I SAID LEAVE ME ALONE!” he waited... and then... the door clicked and he was able to slide back down... press his face into the cool tiles of the bathroom floor. Where he remained till his father came back in a few hours later and picked him up... “come on...”

He remembered hearing Tay’s mother Evie once tell a kid who’d been hesitant to paddle out in The Cove that ‘your life shrinks in accordance with your fear...” and that he was only as small as he felt... well... Parker felt pretty damn small as the doctor asked him what had happened and his dad laughed beside him, saying, “kid thought he’d take on a double black diamond...” a lie that was bought, as the doctor laughed too and all Parker could do was let him put the splint on his finger and hand him a few pills for the pain. Pills he felt dig into his hand a little harder, when his father wrapped his arm around his neck and walked him back through the Swiss hospital, “see... not so bad... you’ll be able to play again soon.” He nodded. Too tired to fight it anymore... as he slid back into the rental car and turned his face towards the window. He might not have got it when Tay had first said it a few weeks ago, but he got it now... got what she meant when she said, it wouldn’t have been such a bad way to go... ‘Cause at least in the water he knew what was making it so hard for him to breathe... made sense... inside the car with his dad, made less... and how was going to find relief again, when there was no apparent surface in sight?

He closed his eyes... and pictured waves... it was easier that way.

#━━ ✦ PARKER (STORY)#━━ ✦ 003 fool you’ve landed

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fairiesherefairiesthere · 5 years ago

Text

All’s well that ends well (Fraxus)

tumblr decided to nerf my last post, so here we go again! A Fraxus fic feat. demon!Freed

Whispers about the well in the woods have been following Laxus since his early childhood. Warnings to not go there are being repeated every morning, even by his grandfather, who is by no means an easily impressed man. That more than anything keeps Laxus away from the place shrouded in mystery, until his decaying health brings him to the much talked about place anyway.

He's no older than nine when his father grabs him by arm and drags him out of the house. If he weren't coughing his lungs out, he might've protested. But as is, a black mist is dancing in front of his eyes and he can't stop sweating. For now, he'll close his eyes. His father might do a lot of hurtful things when Makarov isn't around, but he's never killed him before (his fever-muddled thoughts don't pick up that that's quite logical), so it won't happen now, right?

"Demon!" His father's bellowing snaps him out of his slumbering state and for a moment, he thinks his father is talking to him. After all, he's called Laxus a greedy money-sucking demon of a child before, so it wouldn't be that strange. Picking himself up from the ground his father dumped him on, he starts to take notice of his surroundings. His suspicions get confirmed when he sees the infamous well.

"Dad", he says nervously, tugging on his father's pants. "We're not supposed to be here, gramps says it's dangerous." Tsk'ing, his father gives him a swat. "Don't be a coward Laxus, I know you've got more potential in you than that."

Potential. Such a strange a word. His father uses it often, describing qualities he wished Laxus would have. Laxus wonders why he isn't enough yet.

"Your grandfather is a fool without ambitions. All that lurks in the depths of this murky water hole is a demon, who can grant your every wish. Of course you must pay a price in return, but that's only fair, right?" He waits for Laxus to agree before he continues his spiel. "So I'm going to ask it to make you a healthy boy. Aren't I a good father? Makarov knows about this demon too, but he would rather let you die than take a risk himself. The only one who cares about you, is me."

When his father puts it like that, there's no way that Laxus can disagree with him and little moments like this make him remember why he keeps loving his father with such fervor (desperation). It's because his father truly loves him and wants the best for him.

"So go to that well and ask to get better", his father orders him and Laxus briefly hesitates. When his father catches his questioning gaze, he scoffs. "Did you think I'd ask for you? I just explained, didn't I? It's give and take and we're here for you, not me. Be responsible."

The well that apparently harbours a demon, doesn't look all that threatening. The grey stones reveal nothing about the monster that lurks in the debts of those murky waters, but when Laxus trails his fingers over the edge, purple writing starts to light up. Because Laxus can't really peak over the edge, his father picks him up and places him right on top of the ledge. Before he can ask his question, he falls in and the water engulfs him, dragging him down.

When he comes to, it's completely dark around him. "State your reason for being here", a voice echoes through the space and there's no quality Laxus can describe to the voice, but he does know what it said. Probably magic. "I uh...", he gathers his courage. "I'd like to be healthy", he demands, before adding a meek "please" (Makarov said that one should always say please).

"Should I grant you your wish, what could you give me in return?"

He thinks about that and comes to the conclusion that he doesn't have an awful lot of things to offer and his father surely wouldn't chip in. "Is there something you particularly want?"

A laugh makes Laxus' bones rattle and the demon speaks up again. "Aren't you awfully naïve? You don't ask a demon what it wants, because it's never something you can provide."

"You've gotta be a bit realistic, demon, I'm nine. I don't have a large fortune or a firstborn child."

There's a bit of silence. Then : "Fair enough. Here's the deal, every evening you bring me a share of your dinner and a sip of your drink. Should you fail to live up to this, then your health will not only go back to its former state, it will also noticeably worsen and you'll have to offer me something new on top of that to placate me."

"..."

"Yeah, tremble in front of this offer."

"How old are you?" The question slips out his mouth without Laxus' permission, but he doesn't regret letting it. "That sounds like a stupidly simple thing, what are you, five? I might be the frailest kid in town, but I bet that even I'd bully you if you were a human child."

The darkness shatters and falls around him, with the sound of a thousand glasses breaking. A dark mass with one glowing purple eye approaches him and as Laxus scrambles to get away, the thing screeches: "I.AM.SIX." It's that irked declaration, combined with a high, childish voice that erases Laxus' fear completely and he bursts out laughing.

Apparently, the dark mass doesn't like this very much, as nearly a second later Laxus finds himself having a scratch on his eye. "Don't fool around. Do you take my graceful offer or not?" The high voice is still laughably childish, but there's an icy quality to it that makes Laxus' blood freeze in his veins. "I'll take it", he whispers and offers his hand. The demon doesn't take it, but Laxus suddenly finds himself standing next to the well, his father nowhere in sight and his right eye hurting like hell.

Against the odds, Laxus returns home. His father is pleased with the development and his grandfather is angry. Whatever, the man doesn't care about him anyway. He isn't too sure his father does either, so without offering either of them an explanation, he returns to his room. When it's time for dinner, he sets a portion aside and later in the evening, he brings it to the well.

A few days later, he brings another plate to the well and sighs when he sees all the plates from the days before, still filled with food. "You know", he says out loud, "If I have to travel here everyday, you might as well eat it. I haven't poisoned it or anything." For a moment nothing happens, but then the water starts rippling and the demon crawls out of the well as graceful as he can, which isn't anywhere near graceful at all.

Eyes full of lingering suspicion, the greenhaired child munches on some of the freshest food. "Dinner without companionship is a lonely, unbecoming affair", he mutters and Laxus feels a bit of sympathy for this lonely creature. He's not human, his too pale skin, purple glowing eye and horns would never allow him to fit in and the sight of his grotesque teeth would scare anyone off. "Don't you have parents?"

"No", the creature simply answers. "I'm born out of superstition and six years ago, I was given a definite form by a man who had a wish that cost him his life."

No more words are spoken that night, but from then on, Laxus tells the demon little anecdotes from his own life. Not too long after that, the demon hesitantly takes part in the formerly one-sided conversations and Laxus comes to learn that his name is Freed Justine, which is quite an ironic name as the demon is shackled to the well and the townsfolk love to call him a liar and a scammer, unlike his last name suggests. Over the years, he starts thinking of him as a friend.

"Freed", he hesitantly starts, "can we make another deal?" He's twenty and he hasn't ever left his hometown and so, he's been surrounded by the same people his whole life. Freed, who had been sunbathing on the edge of his well with a content face, comes to face him with a stern expression.

"What do you want so badly that you turn to demonic magic?" the boy asks, clearly disapproving. "Friends", he answers and completely misses the way the other boy's face crumples. "Adventure. A life outside this city."

"You'd have to give me something pretty big in return", Freed muses as he shoots Laxus a glance from underneath his eyelashes. "Considering you wouldn't be able to fulfill your first deal, should you leave this town."

"Ah shit."

"This is why you don't strike deals with demons buddy, it never ends in your favour." Rolling his eyes, Laxus gives Freed a noogie. As the demon protests, Laxus sighs deeply. "What did I say about teenage demon angst?" Freed looks at him from underneath a mess of green locks. "To not do it?"

"Correct." As Freed sighs dramatically because he's an insufferable attention hog, Laxus notices the setting sun. "I should go home, see ya tomorrow." Freed gives him a small wave in return. "See ya."

The following day, Freed hands him a pen. "Write me when you go", is all he says and Laxus has to press for more information. "You want to go, right? Just write me a letter every evening. You do not have to post it, all you have to do is pretend we're actually talking and I'll get the gist of it. Put just as much care and attention in those letters, they will be a replacement for the food. Now for the second wish..."

Laxus waits with baited breath, as he's not dealing with his friend right now. Now it's the demon talking him into a deal and he knows that he's going to take it regardless. "Every bond you make, every friendship you strike..." He waits for a moment, before he pokes Laxus in the chest. "Tell me about them when you get back."

"For someone so feared, your deals suck."

"Shut up and go already, loser." Before doing exactly that, Laxus turns to Freed to hug him. It doesn't work out like he wants it to, because he falls straight through his friend's form. The boy sends a bemused smile his way. "I don't have my own physical form, I'm only an idea. A need for miracles personified."

"That sounds afwul."

"Eh, it's whatever. Now Laxus Dreyar, state your wish." Whenever Freed practices his magic, the purple in his right eye turns so intense that Laxus forgets to breathe for a minute. "I wish to go out of this town, go on adventures and meet my own band of ridiculous but beloved friends."

"I hear your wish and in return, I'll share those adventures through tales you'll tell me." They clasp hands and Laxus' shoulder itches and burns. When he takes a peek at it, it's now decorated with a jetblack tattoo. "I improved my craft", Freed explains before he ushers Laxus to go.

A year later Laxus returns, with a friend in tow. "You guys really don't have to follow me, you know", he mutters as his newfound friend claps him on the back. "No way man!" the blue-haired eccentric exclaims. "I wanna know your deepest, darkest secrets. Spill em, baby."

"Hello there", Freed greets him warmly and regards his companion with interest. "Who do we have here?"

"Introduce yourself, moron", Laxus says while giving Bickslow a push in Freed's direction. "To who?" the man asks incredulous. "There's no one here buddy." As Bickslow scans the place in search of human life, Freed shrugs. "He hasn't struck a deal with me and he isn't planning to either. Physically manifesting is draining, so you'll have to tell the tales of your journey to the air."

Right at that moment, Bickslow jumps on the edge of the well, right next to Freed and stares him dead in the eye. "There." He pauses and Freed whispers: "I'm scared." Tilting his head, but never breaking eye contact, Bickslow reaches out. Before he can poke Freed's forehead with his index finger, the other grabs him by the collar and dumps him on the floor.

"Awtch, your entity isn't all too friendly. Do you think it'd let me see him?" Before Laxus can answer, the both of them have vanished into thin air.

It takes three hours before they show up again, Bickslow with a new tattoo. On his face. Like, smack-dab in the middle. "Why?" he asks Freed and the demon shrugs. "He wanted it." Laxus doesn't know if that's entirely right, but they're both weird enough to let things like that happen. "Anyway", he sighs, "want to hear about our adventures?" While telling stories, Laxus notices that Bickslow isn't fiddling with one of his dolls as per usual. Freed does absentmindedly dig it up during their conversation and Laxus can't help but notice that he's never had to pay with something so dear to him.

Another year later, their group has grown again and Bickslow is already bullying Evergreen with tales of the 'super scary demon' that was going to snatch her soul for sure. Sadly enough he's sputtering all of this nonsense within Freed's earshot, so Laxus doesn't feel sorry when the water splashes over the edge of the well and drags him down to his depths.

"Oh my god!" Evergreen screams and Laxus stops her before she can jump right after Bickslow (she might deny it, but she loves her brother in all but blood to death). "They're just roughhousing", he explains and surely, Bickslow gets spit out by the well and lands rather painfully.

Freed's head peaks up from his well, but he doesn't move to get out of it. "I'm tired", he mutters with his mouth under water, which makes his words sound like bubbling water. Patting his head, Laxus offers his sympathy. "Not a lot of jobs lately?" The demon shakes his head and Laxus feels for him. Freed looks kind of awful at the moment.

"You guys should've told me that you hallucinate in sync, then maybe I could've prepared myself for it", Evergreen says in a snappy tone and Laxus shakes his head. "We're not hallucinating, we're talking to the demon", he says and points at a waving Freed.

"Right." Evergreen gives him an unimpressed look before rolling her eyes. "I'll believe you because Bickslow is a nutjob. Hey demon!" she yells in the well and Freed mutters: "Why does everyone keep yelling at me? I can hear perfectly fine, thank you very much." The two of them disappear and reappear in the same fashion he and Bickslow did a year ago. Now, Freed's hair is held together with the elegant flower hairpin made out of jade Evergreen had gotten from her mother. In return her ankle is decorated with a floral design. Once again he shuts up about the price.

Later that evening, it's just the two of them and looking at Freed sitting peacefully underneath the moonlight, eyes shining with serenity, Laxus can't help but notice how handsome he is. He files that thought away for later. "Hey Freed", he muses while looking at the starry sky, "What would it cost to have you travel with us?"

When he doesn't get an answer, he turns to face his friend. His eyes are wide with disbelief and he closes his formerly open mouth with an audible click. "I don't know Laxus. That would cost me more magic than mere objects can offer and please, do not ask me to take more than that from you." Freed looks so sad at the thought of that, that Laxus swallows down his offers to do exactly that. "Okay", he says, but the thought won't leave his head at all.

The next morning he gets dragged back to the well, who both declared "Well that won't do!" when he had told them about his conversation with Freed the evening before. "Hello, we're here with a four way deal", Evergreen declares and Bickslow adds : "It's like an orgy! Just as magical, just way less sexy."

"Hey, I hate you", Evergreen bites back, before turning back to Freed. "Draw the magic you need from us three, that would lessen the load on each individual. Could that work?"

"It could work, I think", Freed hesitates and Laxus throws him his headphones (he used to use those to ignore the sound of his father and grandfather fighting, they're irreplacable to him). "Here, since I've never given you an actual object. Work your magic demon boy, we're leaving today."

They all notice that this deal takes quite the toll on them. Every night they're asleep faster than one could say 'demon' and throughout the day, they also often get tired. But it's worth it, as Freed looks happier than he's ever seen him and he gets excited whenever he learns something new. He still doesn't have an actual body though, as that would take a too big toll on his friends. Freed, Bickslow and Evergreen also share a bond that Laxus would describe as familial and more often than not, those three brats gang up on him (he loves them).

Whatever the relationship between Freed and himself is, he doesn't quite know. They're closer to each other than the others, because of their earlier established friendship and because of something else Laxus can't quite name. But when he's feeling down, he knows Freed'll be there to cheer him up and whenever Freed has a new idea to trap another human being inside a cage of double edge words, he sends Laxus this particularly mischievous smile and without exchanging words, Laxus knows what he's about to do and he smiles back. The way they deal with each other is filled to the brim with wordless, nearly effortless communication and fond gestures.

It's the day of Laxus twenty-third birthday when he knows what he's feeling for Freed. They're strolling through some quiet town and Freed, choosing not to be visible to anyone but Laxus, has taken on the task of dramatically and sarcastically narrating the life of the villagers. While the man's particularly engrossed in a tale he made up about the baker's son, the sun hits him from behind, encompassing him in a golden halo as he unattractively snorts at his own very bad pun. Laxus has never desired another quite as much as he does now.

He doesn't tell Freed that day, but he puts more attention in their interactions, in his gaze and if he could, he thinks he wouldn't be able to stop trading innocent little touches with Freed. But although Freed has confirmed that he too, loves Laxus (it's a big word, but he'd never use it in any other way), he has also been keeping a distance between them. A confrontation that's less than pretty (from both sides) reveals that Freed doesn't want to start a relationship if he can't fully commit to it.

"Laxus", he says with a wavering voice, "my heart, my soul, my love, it's all yours. But none of these are things I truly possess, I have nothing I can physically offer you. Would you like for a mirage, a cheap imitation of a human, to tell you that you are loved by it? It wouldn't even be able to accompany you at all times, unless you (or your friends) pay it with your very own lifeforce. Please, do think of yourself."

If Laxus were to think of himself, he'd press the matter and repeat to Freed that he loves him every damn day. But thinking of Freed and the misery it'd bring him, he drops the matter and doesn't do that. Since he can't erase the words of appreciation from his mind, he writes them all down. How smart he thinks the other is, how cunning, how funny, how much he appreciates Freed's soft heart (even though the demon denies it every time), how easily he cries at stupid romantic books when no one's looking and how much like a reward it feels when Laxus makes him smile. Every day he writes those feelings down, with the pen Freed had given him a few years ago, forgetting that the object still carries the gist of his ramblings to Freed.

Laxus is twenty-seven and on his way to the well with his band of friends (they've made a tradition of visiting it once a year), when tragedy strikes. They're resting, tired from the journey they've made and Laxus is about to take a nap when Freed appears in his peripheral vision. He's wearing a too wide grin when he asks if Laxus is hot. "Of course I am, it's July and way too fucking hot", he complains and freezes when Freeds snaps his fingers, dumping him straight into the nearby river.

When he rejoins his group, Freed's still laughing at him, but stops when an object meets the ground with an irony clink. It's Ever's hairpin and the woman bristles at Freed. "Man, that thing is important to me!" she yells, but Freed doesn't seem to hear her. It's because Laxus is standing in front of him that he sees the purple light dying in Freed's eye and as he reaches out to him, the demon falls right through his arms and disappears, leaving nothing behind but the hairpin, the doll and Laxus' own headphones. It happens so fast, that there's no chance for them to even say goodbye.

Stunned, the three of them watch the objects and it's Bickslow who snaps them out of their stupour. "The well", he says, "something must've happened with it." Although they've never found an explanation for it, Bickslow does seem to have an unusual sense for all things abnormal. As such, Laxus turns on his heels and sprints the last miles to the well, arriving to a scene of utter chaos.

The villagers he's known all his life have gone at the well with about every weapon they could find, leaving only a couple of stones behind. His grandfather, bless the man, is putting it back together stone by stone. Makarov however, is too small and lonely to make any difference and the destruction of the well proceeds far faster than the reparation process.

The first sentence that stumbles out of his mouth is : "I thought you hated this place." Makarov scoffs at that and explains his reasoning rather loudly, intentionally attracting the attention of the crowd. "I don't hate this place, brat, nor the generations of demons that have housed here. People just need to keep the price for their wishes in mind and they seldom do, so it's easier to tell them to stay away. People love to complain about the consequences of their actions."

"We're not tearing this place down because of the prices that were paid!" a man yells and some woman continues: "Yeah, we're destroying it because this useless demon hasn't listened to our wishes for years! First he terrorises us and then he decides we're not worth his time? Away with the devil!" There's too many people to fight all at once and Laxus doesn't know how to stop this madness. He wishes he did.

Oh. An idea forms inside his head, so stupid that he's almost certain it won't work as soon as his mind comes up with it. But Freed had always like to say that words and their implications matter and that one should keep all meanings of a single word in mind. So he moves to the remnants of the well. "Demon!" he bellows, knowing Freed absolutely hates 1. people yelling at him 2. one of his friends calling him by anything but his name. He hopes that it catches his attention.

"I've come to strike a deal!" he yells and the villagers halt their efforts to watch this spectacle. He's nervous as hell, but the sight of Bickslow and Evergreen, who finally caught up with him, does calm him down. "I offer you my life", he continues and he feels the air going static with magic. "I offer you my life and Freed Justine will live as a human being. It's a demand, not a wish."

"Are you crazy?" Finally Freed appears looking angry and Laxus can't help but smile. "Yeah. I offer you my life in the highest and most binding of contracts. My heart, my mind, my body it's all yours." While Freed looks more and more angry, Laxus drops to one knee. "Marry me", he simply says. "And live beside me as a human being."

The magic in the air swells to a point where it's nearly unbearable and then it dissipates all at once. Freed is standing above him, smiling in that particular way when he thinks Laxus has been especially clever and it nearly makes Laxus' heart beat out of his chest. With a little sob, Freed collapses on his knees in front of him and Laxus has the luxury to be able to hold him. "Of course I'll marry you, crazy bastard. I love you." Freed doesn't hesitate to smash their lips together after that declaration and when the roughness makes place for a tenderness that Laxus has never felt before, he thinks he's so happy he might cry. Screw that, he's definitely crying.

Evergreen dries her eyes in a sophisticated manner as Bickslow full-on bawls. Within seconds, he has grabbed Ever's hand and made a cuddle pile out of the four of them. Things aren't super comfortable because Evergreen's elbow is digging into his side, but they are definitely very, very good.

Well, things are about to get very, very good because they're still surrounded by villagers who want to see Freed dead. But they manage to escape the town because of Makarov being the most helpful grandfather in the world, who happened to have a carriage nearby. "Invite me to the ceremony, brats! And you better let me meet my new grandson before that, Laxus! Where are your manners?" he yells as they run towards the location he had given them.

Like on many of their other adventures, the four of them leave the town running, chased by an angry mob. But unlike all those other times, Laxus has a husband who presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth and whispers the sweetest words to him as their friends gag in the background.

#freed justine #Laxus Dreyar #fraxus #freedxlaxus #bickslow #evergreen #fairy tail #fanfic #TheFairyWrites #please dont nerf me again #id appreciate it

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chances-r-high · 5 years ago

Text

Death of a Bachelor

@royal-iris @addie-bear

It has been a long day for Iris. He’d been stuck in a long, boring meeting about the upcoming budget. There’d been a few staff changes, and the people Iris works with now aren’t as stupid as the last bunch, but he still finds himself frustrated or bored out of his mind. However, he’s excited that he and his mates are now getting around to plans on how to take Irk back. His Irk. Their Irk.

The thought brings a smile to his face as he enters their shared quarters. Persephone and Diana still make him nervous, but they seem to always know this and give him his space. He appreciates it, and he’s slowly but surely starting to become fond of the little beasts.

Addie isn’t too far behind him, also arriving from a rather exhausting day of meetings and planning. It seems the High Chancellor had taken the day off for...something. Addie knows he isn’t sick, but it has to be something pretty important for him to take the entire day off.

She smiles as she sees her other mate at the door, greeting Iris with a soft kiss to the cheek. “Hello, love. How was your day?”

Iris hums at the affection, leaning in to give Addie a nuzzle and peck on the lips. “Exhausting. Why do none of these people, who claim to be financial experts, know nothing about money?”

Addie snorts. “I think you’re just constantly impatient and don’t like to sit still for long periods of time.”

“You bet your ass, I don’t,” Iris admits. “It’s boring! I wasn’t meant to sit in long, drawn out meetings! I was meant to be on the battlefield fighting for freedom!”

Addie continues to look amused. “You do know that once you’re Tallest that a large portion of your day is going to be boring meetings, right? It won’t all be revolution and glory.” She only knows this because of having such a close relationship with not only Iris’ father, but with her Uncle Red as well.

Iris huffs. “Yes but those will be cool, diplomatic meetings. Not ones where I have to explain a basic spreadsheet to a group of people.”

He opens the door to their quarters, allowing Addie to enter first. As he follows her in he notices that the place smells extremely pleasant. There is also a spread of sushi rolls lining the dining room table. He doesn’t have to ask to know they were vegan. Chance is always very aware of his and Addie’s tolerances and allergies.

Addie raises a brow at the display. She’s pretty sure it isn’t their anniversary. At least she doesn’t think so. When did she wake up from that coma? She supposes that counts as good of a date as any for them officially all being together. Maybe it is. Has she really forgotten?

Before either Iris or Addie can think too hard about what this is about, Chance comes out of the kitchen, practically beaming at them. He is dressed in a tshirt and skinny jeans, a pink apron wrapped around his waist. He’s dyed his hair again, now a dark indigo. It brings his eyes vibrantly.

“You two are right on time!” the human said excitedly. “The ramen just got done!”

Iris’ eyes widened. “Ramen? You made ramen?”

Chance nodded. “Mhm! And not just some crappy, packaged ramen either. It’s a vegan recipe I found. I think you’ll both like it.”

Now Addie is very suspicious. “May I ask what the occasion is? And also why did you take the day off?”

Chance shuffles a bit. The weights in his pocket suddenly become very heavy. He’s been trained in espionage since he could walk. He could do this. “I just...it’s been a while since the three of us have had a nice dinner together. I figured we could use one. You know, just sitting around and talking and stuff?”

Iris can’t help but agree. He knows that the lack of such nights has been his fault, but since his and Addie’s talk (and especially recently) he’s tried to be better about that. More present. He smiles and goes over to his boyfriend and ruffles his hair. “Good idea, pretty boy.”

Addie still feels like there’s something she’s missing. Chance does nothing for no reason. Well, wanting them to spend a nice dinner together is a reason though, isn’t it? She just can’t help but feel like her human mate has something else up his sleeve. He’s an adorable and sneaky snake, and she knows better than to underestimate him.

Chance makes a chirp at having his hair pet. Perhaps Dibkins has rubbed off on him. Who knows. He grabs onto Iris’ hand and gives it a kiss. “I’m glad you think so, my Tallest.” He turns to Addie. “Shall we, Songbird?”

Addie sighs. Well, whatever Chance has planned will be unearthed soon enough. “How can I resist such cute faces and delicious looking food.”

000000000000

Throughout their dinner, the trio did just as Chance had hoped. They talked about their days, about the other people in their lives. They laughed and teased each other, bits of bickering becoming long bouts of flirting. It was a testament to how truly well the three of them fit together, how they’d each been lost satellites in space who had all three eventually found their way home - together.

Chance shuffles as they begin to finish up dessert (creme brulee). He’s been preparing for this moment for a long, long time, waiting for when things seemed settled and right. However, he’s come to the conclusion that perhaps things are never settled for the three of them, always having to muddle three one chaotic event to the next. But he also knows they are at their best together, and that he doesn’t want them to be apart ever, ever again.

He clears his throat, getting to his feet. “So, uh...I wanted to show the two of you something. You mind following me?”

Addie finishes off her last bite of creme brulee as she looks up at Chance. Now she knows something is up. She knows it’s not anything nefarious, but she’s always been dangerously curious. She has to know. “Alright. What do you have planned, Lucky Star?”

Iris is now suspicious as well. He’s easily distracted by the promise of food and his mates being cute, but he’s not a complete idiot. Something is definitely going on. “I’m with Addie. You’re acting way too innocent and both of us know better than to fall for that.”

Chance lets out a nervous laugh. “I, uh...well…” So much for all that espionage training. “...Just follow me and you’ll find out. Please?”

Iris and Addie exchange glances, but eventually come to a silent agreement. Their mate clearly wants to share something important with them, and the only way they are going to find out what it is, is by following him.

After agreeing, and taking a moment to clean up the dining room kitchen, they make their way out of their dwelling. Chance’s pace is quick and nervous, but he tries not to give that off. Sometimes he’s a little annoyed about how his mates have managed to knock all his walls down, make him so at ease with showing them what he truly feels. It makes it hard to plan surprises like this properly.

The deeper they go into the ship, the more curious Addie becomes. The part they’re entering now has been long abandoned, parts of Dwicky’s old labs. She’s ask Chance if he wanted it destroyed and redone, but he always brushed it off. She doesn’t quite understand why, knowing the place can’t bring him good memories, but it also isn’t her decision to make. Not her demons to face.

Iris has never even seen this place before. He’s avoided it, after hearing what lied down here. He knows that seeing the place wouldn’t be good for him, thinking about this being the beginnings of all the trauma and terror that Chance grew up with, where perhaps the roots of all the human’s nightmares lurk. Iris can’t help but wonder why he would bring them here. Isn’t this bad for him? Won’t this only be painful?

Finally Chance stops walking as they enter a dimly lit room. It’s surrounded by screens and monitors that are long since dead, just a strange, steady blinking of some of the buttons remaining. In the middle of the room is a round tank, more tall than wide. Several tubes float with in, swaying in the foggy looking water. It obviously hasn’t been touched in years, like an abandoned fish tank that someone forgot to throw out.

Chance takes a breath. This isn’t easy. In fact he feels every nerve of his body wanting out of here. But he came here for a reason. He’s tired of associating parts of this ship, his home, with bad things. He’s tired of letting the past haunt him. He wants to move forward. He knows it’s not that easy, especially with everything that has happened so far this year alone, but, by god, if he’s going to move on the best way to do it is to look forward to the future. To his future.

“This...is where I was born,” he tells them, his gaze moving up and down the abandoned tank. “Or, created I guess. I don’t know if they have proper terminology.” He turns around to face Addie and Iris, his feet shuffling. He buries a hand in his pocket, fingering the boxes there to find his strength.

“From that moment...I was a tool. A means to an end. I was used to for the plans of someone else, never allowed to make my own decision. Hell, I was practically convinced that is was my decision. That it was what I wanted.” He could probably thank Leera and her love for why that was never necessarily true. Why there was a door to his heart always left ajar. And, boy, had the two people standing in front of him stormed they’re way in.

“I...I never thought there could be anything else. That there could be any kind of light in my life that could show me another way. That my life didn’t have to filled with hatred and bloodshed. And...it baffles me still that not only do I get that from one person, but two people.” Two people who grew to love him for who he truly was, who dug it out under years of denial and anger and loathing.

He’s starting to get emotional as he continues to speak. “I love the two of you so much. And...and everyday I continue to love you more and more. Just when I think I’m full to bursting you show me that there’s still so much more room in me. And...and I want to give it all to the two of you. I want to give you everything…

“I don’t think there’s anything I can do to thank you both for being so good to me, for loving me so unabashedly and fiercely, for making me feel like the luckiest man alive,” he slowly pulls the boxes out of his pocket and hands them to each of his mates. Iris’ was in gold while Addie’s in silver, just he could make sure he didn’t mix them up. “But...I want to spend the rest of my life trying.”

Iris raises a brow, his face growing warmer with everyone of Chance’s words. He knows he and Addie can be rather dramatic, but when Chance gets in a mood it’s like listening to a Greek monologue. He can go on and on, his emotions driving higher and higher in a ongoing state of catharsis. It’s endearing and, dare he say, cute.

The box, however, brings him back to confusion. He turns it over in his hands a few times before opening it. Inside, nestled in black velvet, is a brilliant blue gem stone, the color rivaling the shade of Iris’ eyes. It’s beautiful but…”Um...not that I don’t appreciate this but...what’s this for?”

Addie’s sydark is soaring at Chance’s words. She’s still a little confused as to why he brought them here to say such sweet things, and her curiosity is only peaked when she and Iris are handed the boxes. She tilts her head and follows Iris’ move of opening it. She has a very different reaction when she sees her own deep purple stone, covering her mouth with one hand and her eyes immediately filling with tears. “Chance…” The word is barely a breathy whisper.

Chance smiles. He kind of figured Iris wouldn’t know what the stones meant. “They, uh...they’re proposal stones. In Lazurothian culture, they propose to each other with gemstones which later get made into jewelry after they’re married.” He didn’t want to do things the human way, even if adopting his new fathers have made him embrace being human just a little more. And he felt like giving Addie and Iris Oroks would be stealing their thunder in a way. So he’d talked to Midge about alternatives, and this had been his favorite.

The human slowly gets down on one knee in front of his mates, his heart pounding so hard he thinks it might escape his chest. “You two are the most important things to me in my life. I love you more than I think I could love anything else. My life until the two of you was a wasteland, and now I feel like I couldn’t be in a safer, more prosperous place.” He looks around the room, dark and dead with time. That’s how he wants to leave the past behind. Dark and dead in his wake as he walks toward the sun. “This...this is where I was born, but that wasn’t my beginning. You were my beginning. And I want this to be our new beginning together.

Will...will you make me the happiest man in the entire cosmos and marry me?”

Addie squeals, already falling to her knees and embracing Chance. Tears are falling freely from her eyes and she begins kissing his face. Luckily, he can make out a muffled, ecstatic "yes yes yes” in between.

Iris is left in shock at the explanation, his chest slowly tightening at Chance’s words. His grip tightens on the box and he feels his own tears at the corner of his eyes. He hasn’t been the best mate as of late, but for Chance to not only forgive him, but still want him to the extent to do this, it’s nearly overwhelming.

Iris falls to his knees as well, going over to Chance and (once he gets past Addie’s own affectionate assault) kisses him soundly on the mouth. He chuckles, trying to hide how his throat chokes up on his words. “Yeah. I’d be honored to kick your ass for rest of our lives, High Chancellor.”

Chance could cry. And he already kind of is. He leans into his mates’ - his fiances’ - affections. He loves them so much. He honestly can’t think of a time he was more happy than this.

It truly is a new beginning. For all of them...

#~Death Of A Bachelor~

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phantomphangphucker · 5 years ago

Text

A King For Tonight’s Fentertainment - Chap. 6: This Ones Already Had The Fight Taken Out Of His Bite

Summary: As expected, the GIW are still idiots. As expected, Vlad was up to shit. And Danny wouldn't be Danny if he didn't get hurt at some point.

Danny snaps his head to the side, his mom whirling around, as a heavily bleeding Vlad Plasmius staggers away from a building. Sam and Tucker both slide off Danny, Sam crossing her arms and Tucker pointing with mock aggression at Plasmius. While Maddie pulls out and points an ectoblaster, Danny tilts his head back and groans. Groans loud enough to make everyone still around look at him, confused. Danny speaks loudly at the sky, “now what the hell? This is just brilliant”.

Tilting his head back down towards Plasmius as Danny forms a shield behind himself, easily deflecting an ectoshot from one of the GIW agents. Danny doesn’t even acknowledge their little attempt before addressing Plasmius. Taking in the older halfas ectoplasm splattered form, “the fucks got you lookin like rats were gnawing at you, like the cheese head you are, for weeks?”.

Plasmius grumbles and glares at Danny, “well let’s see, an entire city was dropped on my head after getting damn well blinded by a portal the size of an absurdist supernova”.

Danny barks out a single laugh before glaring right back, “exaggeration. But better question, why are you here”.

“You say that like it’s an accusation of guilt”.

“With you, it always is”, Danny steps forward, putting himself in front of his friends, while his mom goes and socks agent L in the face for trying to shoot her son. Danny smirks as he overhears her growl, “you were warned”, before Danny snaps at Plasmius, “what were you doing, old man”.

Danny doesn’t even have to wait for a response as agent G gives him what he was asking for, like a complete idiot; which is pretty expected from one of them. Agent G points at Plasmius, slightly surprised, “you! You’re the ectoentity the commander followed to those powder canisters! We destroyed you!”. The agent rubs his face, looking and sounding a bit manic, “you, you tricked us?! So we’re not at fault! We’re not at fault! Hahaha”.

Danny sighs, “figures”, Danny points over his shoulder at the laughing, and potentially brain-damaged, agent, “I think ya broke him Vladdie”.

Plasmius huffs before attempting to fly off, preferring to avoid the young badgers' wrath while being in this weakened state. Though he gets yanked out of his mental mussing about Daniels absurd, yet so often untapped, power. When he gets shot by a high power ectocannon, too injured to really do anything other than flop unceremoniously on the ground.

Danny facepalmed as soon as Maddie got off the shot, pushing his hand into his face even more aggressively as she snaps, “ghost! So this was your fault! You ectoplasmic waste of human post consciousness!”. While agent L groans on the ground and agent G is still lost to his bout of lunacy.

Sam and Tucker both give Danny glances of pity while he sighs, “and we were starting to get somewhere...”. Both of them cringe and facepalm themselves, as they hear Danny push his hand into his face so hard that he breaks his nose.

Danny blinks as blood drips down his face and off his chin, “well that’s a first. I have officially had a day that has finally heaped on enough bullshit to become worthy of accidental self-harm, that wasn’t caused by some fight shit”.

“Or you forgetting where you’re walking”.

“Or you holding knives wrong”.

“Or you swallowing solid objects”.

“Or you-”.

Danny cuts his friends off, “I get it!”. Whipping his arm across his nose, and hand down his face. Mostly just smearing it around rather than effectively wiping it off. Adjusting his nose bones so it actually heals right, before walking behind Maddie; whose got her gun cannon blaster thing, with some name Danny didn’t bother memorising, pressed into Plasmius chest. “Uh, could you, like, not?”, Danny sighs as he stands behind his mom, looking down at her kneeling form before she aggressively jabs a small ectogun into Plasmius head.

Plasmius, meanwhile, is staring, mouth slightly ajar, at Daniel prancing around in his kings-wear in town with blood streaked on his face.

Danny sighs again, pinching a bit of his moms' suit around her wrist and lifting her arm/hand up. Relieving the ectoguns pressure on Plasmius head. While Maddie just blinks at her son’s hand, thrown off by the show of strength. Danny leans forward to have his face in front of Plasmius’s, frowning, “what’s up Vampy. Now I really don’t doubt you had some hand or bullshit in this, so what the hell could you have to possibly gain by getting those twats to powder-fuck everything to the Ghost Zone. I mean, certainly, the town squashing you under its heel wasn’t the goal”, Danny gives a shit-eating grin, blood tracing over some of his teeth and lips, “you’re not that much of a masochistic glutton for punishment”.

Vlad glares, looking slightly disgusted, “that wasn’t the goal at all Daniel”. Danny and Maddie easily hear him grumble, “only you were meant to be sent off, but those fools probably messed that up”.

Danny straightens up and laughs, exaggeratedly wiping away a fake tear only to accidentally smear blood around his eye, “oh wow! What’d you expect? That’s practically their job!”. Danny leans back down and pats Plasmius mockingly on the cheek, “but naw, shits all on you. You frootloopy fuck”, standing back up and shrugging exaggeratedly, “they explained how the stuff’s supposed to work and really, there’s no way it wouldn’t have sent everything to High Hell. I mean, Ancients, you can’t teleport a lair keeper out of their own lair that way. You’ll just ass fuck off the whole damn place. Like really, this level of stupid isn’t becoming, or whatever, of you, Batshit”.

Plasmius mutters, “I swear he's going out of his way to make up as many insulting names for me as possible”. Plasmius clears his throat while Danny chuckles, “well duh. You are completely deplorable”.

Plasmius forces down a wince as Maddie pushes the gun further into his stomach, “answer my son, you ectoscum”.

Danny walks off slightly to grab a bit of debris while Plasmius responds to her, “now Maddie, I’m sure we can be-”, only to be cut off by Danny dropping a rather large chunk of cement on his head. While both Sam and Tucker fall over laughing, Dash and Kwan both gape.

Kwan stutters, “s-so he c-can fight back, heh”. Dash grumbling mockingly, “what, does ‘his highness’ think I’m not worth the effort”. Both boys jump as Danny snaps his head around, talking with a wide grin, “yup. That about sums it up”.

“Why you little!-Fentax!”.

Danny ignores the two boys as Kwan holds Dash back, “dude, are you insane? Pretty sure he’s about to give a freaking ghost a verbal lashing...not to mention that he’s just ignoring the blood on his face”.

“Soooo”, Danny taps at his chin, “my mom could just shoot you....again. Not really sure why she’s not”. Maddie doesn’t even take her eyes off Plasmius as she responds, “because, I want answers for why the hell some ghost is toying with my boy”. Both Plasmius and Danny blink at her before Danny slowly lifts up a bit of his cape and slowly looks down at it, “uh....I think the why goes without saying at this point”.

Maddie just growls at Plasmius, who gulps faintly.

Danny rolls his eyes, muttering, “and everyone calls me out for being a growly little shit. Eh, whatever”. Danny glances around discreetly, only Sam and Tucker are actually closely watching him at this point; though there’s definitely a good portion of the town watching this little ‘conversation’.

Danny leans down, getting his face up in Plasmius’s; enough so that no one else’s could see Danny’s face and so Plasmius could definitely smell the blood, Danny doesn’t make a habit of assuming everyone else’s senses were as good as his own. Letting his eyes change to green and blaze with threatening energy, his crown also blazing threateningly, as he pats Plasmius chest just below his neck and above the barrel of his moms ectocannon thing. “Now now, no need for all that tension. You’ll throw your back out, old fart. Now what to do about this little transgression against my homely home. I’m sure you are aware that doing such against the whole of someone’s lair is rather, heh, problematic”, Danny grins devilshily, pushing his fingers hard enough to bruise Plasmius collar bone, “especially mine. I am rather...protective. And you are irking that”.

Plasmius pales a bit, getting on the bad side of any ghosts, half-ghost or not, obsession wasn’t really smart. Especially on such large, even if accidental, scale. Not to mention that Daniel has clearly had some secret or another ousted.

Plasmius promptly stiffens and clenches his teeth as Danny condenses ectoplasmic energy around his core and pulses it, disrupting Plasmius’s core just enough to be extremely unpleasant and painful. Maddie backs off slightly, unsure of what’s going on, as Plasmius grits out, “point taken... your majesty”.

Danny closes his eyes and pats Plasmius chest above his core, making the guy wince, “oh now that’s a rare thing, getting you to not sound like a pompous conniving twat”. Danny grabs Plasmius’s arm as he stands up, dragging Plasmius off the ground while opening a portal. Smirking at the barely standing man before tossing Plasmius in, “enjoy the snow tundras! I’m pretty sure Kempler's favourite show just ended! Be a dead dear and cheer him up for me!”.

Danny laughs, closing the portal to the sounds of crying and screaming.

“You just...let him go?”, Danny turns around to his moms disbelievingly comment. While she yelps, “sweetie! Your face!”.

Danny smears his arm under his nose again, flicking off bits of slightly dried blood, before sighing, “it’s fine, I’m fine, we're all fine. Well, Plasmius is not. And I wouldn’t say ‘let him go’. No, in his state he won’t be getting away for a day or two. And frankly”, Danny intentionally shudders for comedic effect, “I’d rather be beaten within an inch of my life than be stuck with Kempler for even an hour”.

Sam and Tucker walk over, grumbling.

“I’d rather watch someone vore a damn spork, again, and still use it to eat a pound of flowers. For two hours. While frequently re-swallowing the spork”.

“I’d rather eat that pound of flowers”.

Danny taps his chin and grins devilishly, “I’ll keep that in mind next time you steal the game controllers, Tuck”. Now it’s Tucker’s turn to pale, “please don’t”. Sam smirks, “please do”.

Danny puts his hands behind his head, looking at the sky, while Sam and Tucker go off at each other. Until Maddie tugs on his arm sleeve, “hmm?”, tilting his head down, “uh, what is it, mom?”.

Maddie pulls out a handkerchief and starts cleaning Danny’s face off. Danny grimaces, “mooooom!”, but lets her clean him off. Maddie grumbles about shooting whoever hurt her boy, eliciting Sam to chuckle, “you better not shoot Danny”. Maddie squints incredulously at Danny who blushes slightly, “there was just such a level of stupidity and bullshit that my hand just had to face fuck me”. Tucker smirks, “aka, you’re too strong for your body”.

“Shhhhhh”, Danny goes to place a bloody finger over Tucker’s lips but Tucker bats it away disgustedly.

Maddie, meanwhile, fiddles with the ruined square of fabric before glancing at the ground where the ghost had been, “sweetie, all of that was...kind of...threatening. And why’d that creature stiffen like that?”.

“Heh, well I was hurting him. That’s kind of how people, ghost or human, react to pain”, Danny rubs his neck, ignoring his moms surprised expression, “normally I wouldn’t be so harsh but well, that one never learns and is far more of a thorn in my side than most”.

“So you’ve ‘interacted’ a lot then”.

“Yeah and um-”, Danny cuts himself off and whirls around to the two agents trying to sneak off, “oh no, I don’t think so. I’m not about to give y’all lowkey heart attacks but...”, Danny trails off as he runs off after the, now fleeing, men.

Tucker chuckles, “so that’s what he did”. Spotting Maddie looking towards him with a curious expression, he sighs. Sam elbows him, whispering, “that’s what you get for opening your trap”.

“Tucker, what do you mean? Giving someone a heart attack isn’t possible, especially a ghost. Darn things are completely heartless”.

Tucker puts his hands up, “look, Ms. F. We’re all kind of tired of the anti-ghost stuff”. Sam butts in, “especially Danny”, Sam grumbles to herself, “but Danny won’t ring her out too much for it, he’s too kind for that”. Tucker chuckles, “yeah. Though, like really cut it out. But...that is possible, the giving heart attacks thing, for Danny anyway. He can pretty well do anything. But core attack is more accurate here”.

“Core attack?”.

“Yup! Don’t ask me how really. But...he vibrates the ghosts core in a way that messes it up for a beat. We’ve seen him pull that before, pretty well incapacitates ghosts from the pain alone. Though-”, Tucker gets cut off by a snowball to the head.

Danny walks up dragging two unconscious agents, glaring with a slight amount of humour, “Tuck, do you ever know when to shut the fuck up? I could do WITHOUT hunters, even if one is my mom, getting any more funny ideas”. All three of them look down at the men as Danny drops them on the ground. Tucker pointing at them and raising an eyebrow. Danny rubs his neck, “they looked behind them while running, slammed into a wall. Ate dirt, choked on concrete, gargled marble, and last but not least, face fucked stone”. Kicking agent L, “this guy broke his nose”, kicking agent G, “this one managed to both shatter his eye socket and dislocate his jaw”. Looking back up at the three and shrugging, “reformed G’s eye socket but L can live with the nose deformation. All in all, I think they punished themselves”.

“Sooo, what are we going to do with them, dude?”.

“What do you mean by not wanting hunters to have more information? Danny...”.

Danny internally groans at his moms' tone, rubbing his neck, “I’m the king of ghosts mom, having more information out there that could harm them or the Ghost Zone is not something I want. That’s kinda the opposite of good”. Turning to his friends, smirking, “this”.

They’re only confused for a second until a pissed off looking taxi driver pulls up, stopping so that Danny can toss the men into the taxi trunk. Danny chuckles as the taxi speeds off, “that’s gonna be a long and cramped ride, dude pretty well swore to everything that he’d make it the bumpiest ever”.

Sam and Tucker both nod, “good”. Sam turns to Maddie, “so, you’re not going to give Danny a hard time about all of”, gesturing to Danny’s cape and crown, “this? Are you?”. Danny tilts his head to the side and grumbles, “only for, like, the past forever”.

But Danny’d rather not have Sam and his mom go bickering about shit, so he straightens up some, “anyway uh, it’s late and shit so I vote for letting me embrace my bed”.

Tucker snickers, “like you’re actually gonna sleep”.

“I can try can’t I?”.

Sam elbows Tucker, “lucky Mr. Royal bombastic over here hardly needs it”. Danny groans, “tell me about it! I’d be even more dead on my feet!”.

Maddie raises an eyebrow but Danny grabs her wrist, “so home!”. Waving at Sam and Tucker as he practically drags Maddie home. Maddie watching where she steps so as to not trip on Danny’s cape, while Sam and Tucker exchange slightly worried glances.

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