#my eating habits are worse then a raccoons | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mychoombatheroomba · 3 months ago

Text

The Enemy of My Enemy

Between the Bones (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 54

An unexpected ally gives you some insight, and the hunt begins.

(Cross-posted from Ao3)

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Index

After Raccoon City, in those first weeks of training - before he’d properly met you even - Leon had found a numbing comfort in routine. Wake up. Train. Eat. Train some more. A schedule had helped him. It broke up the day into predictable steps. In this facility they were in, wherever it was, there was no such luxury. Days after the interrogations and still, Leon was unable to leave his room without supervision. He ate there, slept there and tried to find a way to keep himself sane there. Easier said than done. The days fogged into one continuous expanse, each one longer than the last.

Habit led him to train in the room’s limited space. Krauser had taught them enough that even four concrete walls and a shitty bed could become a usable work room. Still, there were only so many push-ups he could do before his mind started to wander.

Didn’t matter if his eyes were opened or closed, now. He could see them. All of them.

Marvin and Ada and the rest of the lives lost in Raccoon City had company. Uninvited, their memories made those four concrete walls their home too, stuffing in around Leon and suffocating him. Too many bodies. Too many faces he would never forget.

Alejandro, staring into the dark sky in shock.

Doc, his face torn and barely recognizable.

Alenko, his eyes pleading and pained right up until-

You. Leon thought of your face just as much as he sat in that room. He thought of the smiles he’d coaxed out of you over months and months together. The way your eyes, normally, would soften when they turned his way.

He thought of how you hadn’t even looked at him as you’d passed him in that hallway.

Those were the thoughts he was stuck with for days. Right up until the door opened at last and Leon was ushered out of that little prison cell. He was marched down the hallway, falling in line behind a familiar friend, her broad shoulders bowed with the weight of the world.

“Dina,” Leon said, his voice soft with wounded hope.

Williams, for her part, managed a small smile as she looked back at him. “Hey, Kennedy.”

More cells were opened. More of their squad joined them in the line-up. Valeria, Doc’s assistant, Grayson . . . and, of course, you were there, towards the other end of the line. Leon didn’t get more than a glimpse of you before you fell into formation. No, instead, it was Krauser’s eyes that caught his own. The Major was pulled from a cell just like the rest of them. His gaze passed over you, a direct omission. Instead, it fell on Leon. An accident, the younger man was certain, and one that betrayed too many emotions Leon had never thought to see on Krauser's face.

Exhaustion. Pain. Rage. Leon saw it all as plain as day.

He could sympathize.

The contact was over in a moment, and Krauser filed in, Hellman joining from his cell last.

All of the survivors. All that was left.

“What’s going on?” The question was whispered to Williams as they began moving.

She didn’t have an answer for him.

He didn’t have to wait long for one.

Benford was waiting for them in the room they all filed into, his glasses reflecting the fluorescent lights overhead. When he told them all to take a seat, Leon couldn’t help but feel he’d stepped into some strange new world as Major Krauser obeyed alongside everyone else. A world where everything was wrong - somehow turned upside-down and inside-out and even worse than he thought it could be.

The only thing that seemed right was the moment Benford confirmed what he’d known in his heart.

“Agent Andrew Reed is our chief suspect for the recent attack.” The air changed, then. How could it not, when a room was full of attack dogs that had finally been given a scent to go after? “Our intelligence has tracked him as far as Russia, but beyond that, we don’t know where he is.”

Russia. Reed hadn’t just slipped away, he’d all but disappeared. Vanished. There would be no justice for what he’d done while he was there.

“Then send us out.” Krauser spoke with a snarl. “We’ll have him in a week.”

Benford’s expression was sympathetic, but his answer was predictable. It wouldn't be that simple. “We can’t sanction sending you all into Russia. Not on a wild goose chase. If we can find a more clear course-”

“Every day,” Krauser stood, “every minute we sit here and wait, that bastard has time to hide. To call all his friends in Umbrella and get protection. If we don’t move now-”

“I’m aware, Major,” Benford said, his tone cool. Even. Same as always with these suits. Bastards that they were. It had crossed Leon’s mind more than once in the past few days that he couldn’t trust Benford any more than he could trust Reed. That didn’t change the fact that the man in front of them all held their leashes, whoever might be holding Benford’s in turn. “We are moving as fast as we can. The moment we find anything, we will act on it.”

That was all they were given, along with the freedom to roam the facility they were in now. A freedom that rang hollow as you were all dismissed and you slipped out of the room like smoke through fingertips.

He could have chased after you. He almost did.

Instead, he let you be. Leon would do all he could do.

He would wait.

⧫⧫⧫

Sunlight bleeding into darkness. Blunted steel. Moves and countermoves.

It was uncanny how so many familiar things could feel alien to you. That was all down to the man holding the other knife. Hellman moved differently from any of the other STRATCOM recruits. Different training. You’d seen some of his skills shared in Reed’s style, when you’d assisted him in training. That was the reason you’d sought the agent out. Well, one of a few.

The other two reasons . . . you’d avoided them since Derek C. Simmons turned their names into weapons. Krauser and Leon, for their parts, had done the same. Had they been threatened too? You wouldn’t be surprised. Didn’t matter. Just like the comfort you longed for in Leon’s arms didn’t matter - the way you wanted to go to him. To pray that he didn’t hate you for what you’d done. Just like the questions you had for Krauser didn’t matter - the way you wished you could understand why he’d risked so much to protect you. Even if some part of you knew. That didn’t matter. Right now, only the knife across from you did.

You suspected Hellman had reasons of his own for agreeing to this. Shame, most likely. Good. You hoped he felt shame every time you managed to slip your knife past his defenses.

Let him feel over and over again the cost of carelessness.

Bruises were the best teachers, weren’t they?

Over the last few days, you’d had plenty to learn from the agent as well. Now, you were pulling your knife back as he pressed a counter-cut down where you’d gone to attack. Fast, just like Reed was. Calculating, too. Good at thinking a few moves ahead. He kept catching you in the same patterns. Old habits you’d fallen into since your injury.

“You’re protecting your ribs more than anything,” Hellman pointed out. His notes weren’t as welcome as Krauser’s. You would take them, but not without biting back.

“Someone broke them, remember?” It might get under his skin, childish as it was. Maybe guilt would make him sloppy. You hoped it would. Guilt likely wouldn’t work on Reed when you found him, but right now? You would settle for hurting Hellman in his stead.

It nearly worked, too, as the agent just barely batted your attack away, a followup to a series of feints. Chest, leg, chest. Hellman stayed in place, trying to grab your arm. To run his knife up in a move that would have filleted the flesh from your bone. Your knee driving upward into his stomach stopped him. The knife dropped from your right to your left, stabbing towards his gut. Another near miss.

You had him on the defensive.

“I shouldn’t have let him-”

“What?” you pressed, trailing after him. Each slash, each thrust, you paired with sharpened words to match. “Shouldn’t have let him break my bones? Cripple our soldiers? Poison an entire base of people?”

Hellman’s skills as a fighter were all that saved him from bruising blows with your practice blade, and even as he managed to slash at your arm in a riposte, you kept advancing. Kept forcing him up against the wall of the facility that now housed you.

You knew better than most how a cornered animal could fight, though.

Krauser had often warned you not to let your feelings get in the way in a fight. Now, you paid the price for not listening to him and to Hellman both. Anger made you sloppy. As you blocked a high strike at your face, you realized his free hand was going low, a fist aimed at the ribs he’d just warned you about. You inhaled sharply, moving to defend with your other hand. His knife slipped around your upper defense. Yours moved in tandem. Then, you had knives at each other’s throats.

A draw meant death, and your own stupidity had your anger rising.

“I should have seen him for what he was,” Hellman panted, and you realized that he was feeling much the same way you were. You’d seen honesty from the agent plenty of times before, but nothing like this. Nothing so full of all-consuming remorse, because ultimately, he had been the best equipped to catch Reed before anything happened. He’d failed, and everyone else had paid the price. “I should have seen it sooner.”

You were past the point of pity, your world reduced to red and black. So, you didn’t waver, even with a knife to your throat. “You should have,” you declared, sinking the blade of those words into Hellman’s heart.

Your vengeance was short-lived.

“Don’t be so hard on the agent.” You hadn’t even noticed someone approaching, you’d been so caught up in your fight. You didn’t know the voice, smooth and steady, and that made your head snap to its source. Your blunted blade fell away from Hellman and was now ready at your side. The man you found standing before you looked utterly unimpressed, the dark glasses that hid his eyes making disinterest appear effortless. Slicked back hair, a well-pressed suit . . . if not for the blond shine of that hair in the low light, you might have mistaken him for- “Reed was well-trained. You might be surprised how well Umbrella has embedded itself in the world. But perhaps you’d like to find out.”

As if those words weren’t enough to make your grip on the knife tighten, Hellman tensed beside you.

Tall, which meant a long reach. Not as well-muscled as Krauser, but it was hard to tell what physique hid beneath the suit jacket over the man’s shoulders. A jacket that could conceal a weapon as well.

“Who the hell are you?” Hellman asked, his eyes narrowed.

Thin lips curled up before the strange man spoke. “An interested party. One with knowledge of use to you.”

Not CIA. And anyone with knowledge of worth-

“You’re with Umbrella.” The accusation was spat from your lips, your body thrumming with potential energy. The promise of violence, even as the man stood perfectly still and straight before you.

His smile only widened. “Interesting theory.”

"How else would you have any knowledge of use?"

There was a moment of thought, the man choosing his words carefully. "Umbrella has outlived its usefulness. You and your government aren't the only ones interested in seeing it dismantled."

You didn't have time to question what the hell that could mean. “Then you’ll have no problems coming in for questioning,” Hellman stepped forward, a warning buried shallowly beneath his words.

“On the contrary,” the blond man tilted his head, “you won’t be taking me in, agent. You can have the information I’m offering, and you can determine what the cost of that information will be.”

There were security cameras. Guards . . . and that hadn’t stopped this man from getting here. It hadn’t stopped him from not only finding this facility, but breaching its defenses seemingly unnoticed. You took a steadying breath, your muscles coiling, trying to put a plan together in your mind.

“I can’t let you leave,” Hellman said. “Not if you know what you claim you do.”

The man took a breath, then sighed it out.

You knew when a fight was coming. You could feel the shift in the air.

Even so, you never stood a chance.

Not when the man, who had been a good ten paces away one moment was in front of you the next. Your knife arced up, your free hand moving to a defensive position, and none of it mattered when a hand closed around your throat, the force of it making you sputter.

No time to react. No time to question.

You saw Hellman move, but a kick sent him flying back against the wall. Your air supply cut off, your only option was the blunted blade in your hand. One that you aimed straight for the dark lenses of the man holding you-

Only for him to catch it by the steel and, all while looking at you with a smug smirk, he squeezed. Your eyes widened as you watched the metal bend like dough beneath his grip, and then those same eyes bulged as his other hand tightened at your throat. You kicked as you were lifted easily off the ground, your free hand beating against his arm, terror setting in as your vision blurred.

He could snap your neck like a toothpick.

He could and would.

“I’ve wasted enough time talking,” the man said, looking down at Hellman as he held you, oblivious to your struggles. Kicks that landed like hammer blows on most did nothing to move him.

You could die here, after everything, unless-

He let the bent knife go, then reached into his pocket. He pulled something small from it. Indiscernible in your wavering state of consciousness, your grip on his wrist tightening as you gasped for air. “Take this,” he said, tossing it at Hellman's feet. “Make good use of it.”

Just as the world was about to go black, just as you felt your grip on his arm loosening, air rushed to you and you were falling.

"You will need every soldier you can get."

The ground met you without remorse and you grasped at your throat, coughing and sucking in air desperately. “Sergeant!” you heard Hellman, calling for you. Footsteps and scrambling against the dirt. Your perception was all hazy images and dying light, but you were alive.

Still alive.

Of course you were.

Of fucking course you were.

You forced yourself up, your arms full of pins and needles as you moved. You saw the warped remains of your knife, and empty space where the man had once stood. Too late. Not that it would have made a difference. You never could have won that fight. At most, you would have cost him a few seconds from his time to escape. He’d done what he’d come to do.

It lay in the dirt, sealed in a protective case. A little piece of what looked like plastic, wrapped around metal. Information, he’d said.

Information that a man who could crush steel in his hand was willing to give up.

There was no doubt in your mind; that man had been a creation of Umbrella, in some way shape or form. He knew Reed at least by name. He was setting you all after something. Something he didn’t want to handle himself.

Another player in a game you had no control over. Another person who’d taken your life quite literally in their hands without a thought or care. You were just a piece on the board. Always had been.

All it left you with, as your lungs finally refilled with air, was more anger. More rage. If this was what the world was? How your life shaped up to be? Fine. So long as you had something to sink your teeth into.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Index

A/N:

Wesker: Don’t go picking a fight with me. I could make your life difficult. Sarge, sarcastically: Wow. I wonder what it’d be like to have a difficult life.

You know I had to get the third blond freak in there somehow. Anyway I hope you enjoyed your mandatory dose of Deus ex Wesker, he will probably not be back lol. Literary structure can kiss my ass for this cameo in particular (meaning I know this is shoehorned in but ya know what, in the spirit of Resident Evil's goofiness, I kept the idea).

Anyway, APOLOGIES for the literal month this chapter took me to post, I was moving this last month! It was a lot of work but I'm very happy with my new place! Happy enough that I immediately left on a vacation - so I've been a little busy as of late. In any case, we're coming up on the end of this story here and I'm so so excited to finally write all the craziness I have in mind! Thank you all of you for your patience, hope you enjoy the end of the ride (and will follow me into the sequel when I get to it!)

Also, fun fact, apparently Wesker dropping off a flash drive could have happened if he's got cutting edge tech, the USB flash drive was invented in April of 1999! Bro absolutely stole the design for that. What a menace.

Tag List: @greywardensaywhat

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #jack krauser #resident evil x reader #resident evil 2 #resident evil 4 #resident evil #between the bones #gender neutral reader #leon kennedy x you #no y/n #albert wesker

50 notes · View notes

shyficwriter · 3 years ago

Text

Temporary Home: Chapter 11

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!) Guest starring Nick Fury and Maria Hill

Summary: Fury comes for another weekly check-in and Reader gets in trouble. He also brings along a doctor, will he have good or bad news for Rocket?

Previous Chapter here | Next Chapter Here Or click here to: Start From Beginning

Author’s Note: A -l o n g b o i- of a chapter. Also, for my records, this is day 14 of the Guardians living with reader.

Word Count: 7,756

You wake up early, partially due to the pain in your arm, but mostly because you knew Fury would likely be coming today and you wanted to try and get to town and back before he arrived.

After a light breakfast you start to go out back door to retrieve the box the raccoon corpse was in, but Peter, who had also just finished eating and who suspected exactly what you're doing, jumped up and said he'll help you get the box.

You roll your eyes, and you're about to tell him you are fine to do it yourself when you hear knock at door. You assume it's Fury, but you want to be careful. You look out window, prepared to tell Peter to keep the others out of sight, when you notice two SHIELD vehicles behind your own, and that they hadn't been cloaked like Fury's was last time.

"It's Fury," you tell Peter, and he goes to fetch a few of the others who weren't already in the kitchen, mostly Rocket, because he expected they would want to see him after you said you'd be contacting SHIELD about the raccoon fight and whether Rocket had his shots.

Feeling slightly relieved that it was just Fury and that he hadn't decided to test you this time, you answer the door to see not only Fury and Agent Hill, but another man.

Fury gives a quick greeting and introduces the man as a doctor they brought along to test the dead raccoon. Apparently they came prepared after your message to Maria the previous night. You offer to go unlock shed but Fury says he needs you to stay there, and to give the doctor the keys. You are surprised, but obey, assuming he just wants briefed on what happened last night.

You hand the doctor the keys and he disappears back out the front door while you lead Fury and Maria into the kitchen where the others are just as Peter comes back down the stairs with Drax and Rocket.

As suspected, Fury asks first about what happened with the raccoon incident.

Rocket rolls his eyes and grumbles, "Nothing."

Drax speaks up. He tells Fury that he and you heard the commotion outside, saw Rocket getting attacked, and then you shot the offending animal.

Fury nods. "I see. I trust you've already looked him over, but our doctor will be doing so again before he administers the booster. According to our records Rocket was given a rabies vaccination, but you can never be too careful."

"Good." you reply, nodding your head in relief.

Rocket just hopped up on the counter to sit with his arms crossed indignantly, not looking forward to being examined for something he had already been checked for, but surprisingly he chose not to be a child about it.

"How long before we know if the raccoon was infected or not?" asked Kraglin.

Agent Hill answered. "The test takes about two hours. We brought a lab van so the test could be preformed on site that way we'd know as soon as possible."

Leave it to SHIELD to come prepared for literally everything.

"We also brought another couple weeks worth of rations. NOVA expects you all to be here for awhile more." This earned unhappy muttered grumblings from Rocket, but the others kept their mouth shut. They were never under the impression the negotiations would be done quickly. Maria continued, "So if a few of you want to help carry the boxes in..." she gestured towards the kitchen door. She said it politely, but it wasn't exactly a request. She wasn't a maid.

You nodded and started to head toward the door when Fury said. "Agent, stop."

You stopped, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. "Sir?"

Peter, Drax, and Kraglin, who had stood and were also about to follow Agent Hill (and tell you specifically not to go, for obvious reasons), also stopped, surprised by Fury's tone. He almost sounded a bit like he was scolding you despite his tone being even.

"Please remove your sweater."

The sweater he was referring to was actually an old knit cardigan. You had taken to wearing it the past few days due both to a string of overcast and therefore chillier days, and well, for said obvious reasons. "I'm sorry, what?" you ask.

"Your jacket. Take it off."

You swallow. You had a sneaking suspicion why he would ask you that. He had an annoying habit of somehow knowing everything. "If it's all the same, I'd rather not-"

"Remove your jacket, agent. Or do you need Agent Hill to assist you?" It was clear that he wasn't going to take no for an answer.

You try to hide a grimace as you did what you were told, doing your best not to wince as you pulled your sweater off your good arm first and then the injured arm. Silently you wondered who had squealed on you. A small gasp from Mantis was heard when she saw what your sweater had been hiding, and you could feel the eyes of the others also on you as Fury gave you an unamused look and Agent Hill's eyes widened sightly. Even Rocket looked a bit surprised. He wasn't expecting it to look that bad.

Purple and green bruising stained your arm, radiating out from your elbow and stretching from your bicep to maybe 5 inches shy of your wrist.

"The doctor is also here to check over your injury as well." Fury said. Looking to Gamora he thanked her for informing them of your injury before turning back to scold you for not having mentioned it to them or having seen a doctor for it. He also threw in that you should be wearing a sling and resting your arm instead of 'acting like a dumbass who thinks they don't need to take care of themselves.'

"Sir, it's fine. I-"

"I'm trusting you to protect these people. How are you going to do that if you cripple yourself by neglecting injuries?" he scolded.

You shot an unhappy look to Gamora, but you could tell she wasn't sorry. You also caught almost smug looks from Yondu and Peter before turning back to Fury.

"How did it happen?" asked Maria. Gamora had told her that it had happened, that you refused help, and that you put it back in place yourself, but she hadn't told her how it happened. Seeing the aftermath of the injury now herself had made her curious.

"Slipped," you say before anyone can speak up for you. "Clumsy me," you add sarcastically.

Peter raised an eyebrow and shared glances with Kraglin and Yondu, surprised that you seemed to be covering for him. However, he didn't correct you, assuming you gave that answer for a reason, and after all, it wasn't totally a lie, more just... not the whole truth.

That explanation was apparently good enough for Fury and Maria because she nodded at the guys for them to follow as Fury laid into you again.

***

Maria opened the back hatch of the SUV, revealing crates of rations to be taken inside.

Lifting up one of the crates, Peter tried to make conversation, mentioning how Fury seemed surprisingly mad at you for not seeking out a doctor for your injury.

Sure, he could understand your boss telling you that you were dumb for neglecting an injury and scolding you for being stupid, but Fury's anger seemed different than he would have expected. Almost like he genuinely cared that you had gotten hurt. He couldn't remember any of his mother's bosses caring that much. If anything, if she had gotten hurt or sick, they would have preferred that she pretended she hadn't and just worked through it. Then again, he always did think most of her bosses were mean. Maybe she just had bad luck?

"Yeah, well, this wouldn't be the first time she's hidden an injury." Maria admitted. "I imagine he's getting a bit tired of it."

Kraglin took a crate from Maria. "She do that often?" he asked, surprised that anyone would just routinely hide when they've been hurt for seemingly no reason.

"It's not a super frequent occurrence, but she does have a bad habit of not saying when she's hurt. Once she got stabbed on the job in Hong Kong... we only found out when another agent walked in on her trying to stitch herself up in the hotel afterwards." She stacked a crate on top of the one Drax was already holding and shut the hatch before bending down to pick up the last crate she had set on the ground for herself. "Then there was a time when we were on a job together in Romania. We had been captured and held hostage for two days. I noticed she started looking worse and worse as time went on. I thought she was just getting sick, but then she passed out during the last interrogation attempt before SHEILD busted in the door with backup." She started walking back towards the house with the men. "I found out after they got her to medical that the day after we got sent out she came down with appendicitis and instead of telling someone that something was wrong and getting medical treatment, she apparently decided it was better to just cut out her own appendix- still don't know how she managed that without anyone noticing." Maria sounded like she clearly disapproved of your prior actions. "Anyway, with no way to keep it clean while we were being held prisoner, she had developed an infection. She was put on suspension for that one. I've got more, but I think you get the drift."

The three men's eyes were wide as they followed Agent Hill back to the house.

"That's insane." Peter said. "Why would anyone do that?"

"Beats me. She didn't always used to be that way, but now we use her as an example for what you shouldn't do with the new recruits."

"What do you think changed? Could she have suffered a brain injury that made her dumb?" Drax asked.

Peter shifted his crate so he could open the door and scolded Drax for being rude. As they walked into the hall Maria said, "No head injury that I'm aware of, she just kinda changed after-"

She never got to finish that sentence, for they entered the kitchen to hear you angrily say to Fury, "You can't be serious."

The four made their way towards the pantry with their crates, cautiously eyeing the situation so as to not appear nosy. Well, except for Drax, who was just flat out staring.

You were staring angrily at a stern-faced Fury while Gamora looked at the two of you, uneasiness in her eyes. Yondu and Rocket had looks of almost smug satisfaction playing on their faces, while Mantis and Groot appeared confused and intrigued.

"Serious as a heart attack." Fury answered. "After the doctor examines you and gives his orders, she-" he pointed to Gamora, "is going to report back to me if you break them, since clearly she has more sense than you."

"Sir, I don't need a babysitter-"

"Act like a baby, you get a sitter." Fury responded, cutting you off. "Adults know better than to just ignore serious injuries, Agent. Or do I need to remind you of the stunt you pulled in Romania?"

Gamora looked uncomfortable, and she wasn't even the one being scolded, though now she did wonder what you had done in Romania, wherever that was. Yondu was also curious, as Fury's statement confirmed you had done this more than once.

You sighed indignantly, "Sir I-"

"Enough. Unless you want to tell me you intend to defy orders, I suggest you keep any excuses to yourself. If I hear anything about you neglecting the doctor's orders, your ass will be assigned to a desk so fast your head will spin. Are we clear?"

Your eyes widened. Desk duty?! He couldn't do that to you. "What? Sir?! You can't do that-" you say, your voice almost pleading with a hint of indignation.

He says again, more firmly, "Are we clear?" Not only could he, he most definitely would. You thought being assigned to stay home was bad? Try being stuck in a cubicle for the next foreseeable future.

"Yes, sir." you say begrudgingly.

"Good."

Rocket started chuckling, pleased to see you get dressed down by your boss. In your own home, no less. Then he got an idea. "Hey, Agent." he said in a mocking tone.

You turn to glare at him. "What?" you respond irritably.

"Why don't you tell me where that new bed in my room came from?" He was wearing a shit eating grin, and you weren't sure why he'd bring it up right now.

You roll your eyes. "How should I know? Bed faeries? Piss off."

Rocket grinned wider. "Really? 'Cause I've got a feeling you aren't allowed to lie to your director, so if he were to ask..."

Fury, not in the mood, flatly repeated what he had said on the last visit, "I'm not here to get involved with your petty squabbles." adding, "I couldn't care less what this was about."

Rocket almost looked disappointed, and you relieved, before Agent Hill said, "Well, he might not care, but we'll be here for the next two hours waiting on results anyway... and technically I do outrank you..." Her smile wasn't malicious, it was clear that her intent was only some good-natured ribbing to her fellow agent who seemingly didn't like to admit that she'd done something nice for the asshole raccoon. Trying to lighten the mood.

You give Maria a look that says, 'Are you fucking kidding?'

Rocket looked delighted, and a few of the others looked pleasantly intrigued by your expression. By now everyone had pretty much gathered that you had made Rocket the bed, but you never would say as much. It'd be interesting if you'd actually admit it, or suffer whatever consequence lying to a superior might entail if they would choose to enforce it.

Fury, however, rolled his eye and told Maria he was going to have a word with the doctor. His way of saying that this issue wasn't worth his time, but he also wasn't going to stop whatever happened next.

Maria didn't force you to come clean about the bed. Not at first anyway. She did, however, exercise her power to keep you in line. Meaning, if you didn't do like you were told and just sit and wait for the doctor while the guys finished emptying the crates into the pantry and returned the crates to the vehicle, she'd make veiled threats to ask where the bed came from.

You knew she was only having a bit of fun, but you still stared daggers at her.

***

After a bit Fury returned with the doctor, who greeted you again by handing you the keys to your shed, stating that he locked it back up. He also informed that part of the the rabies test involved freezing the samples for 45 minutes, so he would examine you and Rocket in the meantime.

You went to motion for Rocket to go first, but Fury prodded the doctor in your direction, giving you a look that you knew better than to argue with. Rocket stuck his tongue out at you and remained sitting, satisfied, on the counter. Out of most everyone's sight, though, his tail twitched.

You were tense, but on your best behavior the whole time the doctor examined your injured arm, not wishing for Fury to come up with another punishment for your disobedience.

The doctor pulled a device out of a briefcase that turned out to be a fancy portable X-ray device to make sure there were no fractures. Luckily there weren't any.

The outcome was determined that you were very lucky. Somehow you had managed to set the bones back in place well enough on your own without accidentally breaking the radial heads in the 're-entry' process, something the doctor said he'd wouldn't have expected for a self-reset, but then again, most don't attempt to reset this type of injury on their own either. You were given a mild scolding by the doctor for not putting the arm in a sling so the ligaments could heal, however, and he said you were very lucky it didn't re-dislocate. You internally groaned as "I told you so's" peeped from behind you.

The doctor placed your arm in a strange hinged brace with a strap that made it sort of like a sling with the instructions that you were required to wear it with the strap for a week. Afterwards you could remove the strap, but you would still need to wear the brace for at least another two or three weeks. You were also placed on a weight restriction of only 5 pounds for your injured arm. Great...

You didn't say anything, only nodded, having gotten the message that it wasn't in your best interest to argue if you didn't want another tongue-lashing from Fury.

When the doctor was done with you he moved onto Rocket, who's ears momentarily flattened when he saw the doctor was now approaching him, but he quickly recovered, begrudgingly allowing himself to be examined.

As expected, the doctor found nothing of concern, barely even a scratch, which he was sure to clarify that Rocket likely wouldn't have contracted rabies from even if the animal does test positive.

The doctor turned to his coat pocket and pulled out a pre-loaded syringe of pinkish liquid, declaring to Rocket that it was the vaccine booster as he pulled off the cap.

Peter saw Rocket stiffen and finally noticed the twitching of his tail, and decided to be merciful and distract him. "Hey, Trash Panda,"

Rocket turned his head to Peter as the doctor grabbed his arm. "I don't answer to that, Star-Munch."

"You just did." Peter laughed.

Rocket growled at him before turning back to the doctor and asking him to hurry up so he could bite a chunk out of Peter's face.

"Already done," stated the doctor, capping the now empty needle and slipping it into a plastic bag before returning it to his pocket.

Rocket raised his eyebrows, forgetting his previous anger towards Peter. "Oh." His tail ceased its twitching. He hadn't felt a thing.

Peter didn't return to taunting and just let him forget. Mission accomplished.

Now done, the doctor announced he'd be going back to the lab-van to check on the samples, leaving you to sit awkwardly with your boss, co-worker, and the rest of the Guardians.

You look to the ceiling and sigh before saying, "Well I suppose I should offer you some tea if you're going to be here awhile."

Maria nodded that she'd take some and no sooner than you go to stand does Peter speak up and say, "Let me help-"

You give him a seething look that actually makes him recoil. "Unless you know how to make tea, fuck off. And even if you do, still fuck off. I don't need both arms to make fecking tea and I don't need your help. I'm not an infant." Your tone was even, but the venom was still there. A bit harsh, perhaps, but it sent the desired message. The whole situation was making you very cranky and maybe they shouldn't push it. At least for awhile until you had a chance to decompress.

Fury, however, shot you a disapproving look before you turned to put the kettle on, though he didn't say anything. He had pretty much expected this is how you might react.

The next half hour was mostly sipping tea and awkward attempts at conversation as everyone waited for the doctor to finish the test.

Yondu wasn't much interested in trying to make conversation, though he was surprised to find he didn't mind the tea. He was watching as you fiddled with your cup. You were quiet, and he thought you seemed nervous. Could you be nervous about the test results on that animal? Why? All evidence pointed to Rocket being completely fine, he hadn't been bitten, and that's what you said they had to worry about, right?

When the doctor finally returned he had good news. The raccoon had tested negative.

Yondu watched you visibly relax and it made him wonder if there was something you hadn't told them.

He was right. You were worried about the possibility of the raccoon's blood or saliva having found its way into one of the scratches or, more grossly, Rocket's mouth or eyes. If the raccoon had been infected, you knew those would be other possible ways Rocket still could have contracted the virus. You hadn't told the others because you hadn't wanted them to worry, but doing this only then made you worry. Not just because you didn't want to see even an asshole like Rocket die like that, but because you had told the others he'd be fine if he wasn't bitten, and that hadn't fully been the truth. It was a weight off your shoulders to hear that the test came back negative.

With that news Fury, Agent Hill, and the doctor were finally all able to leave. Fury stood and made eye-contact with Gamora. "Remember what I said, she steps out of line, disobeys the doctor's orders, you report back to us. Understood?"

Gamora nodded uneasily. She hadn't expected to be put on the spot and honestly wasn't looking forward to her assigned task, sure that it would only serve to piss you off.

Fury looked at you now. "Understood, Agent?"

You exhale irritably and say, "Yes, sir."

"Good. We'll be seeing you again next week."

You led them to the front door to let them out, but right before she walked out Maria turned to you with a smile and said, "Oh, almost forgot. Where did that new bed in Rocket's room come from?" She said it louder than necessary, no doubt to make sure that the others could hear the question being asked.

"Dammit, Maria!" you scold.

Fury now turned with a smirk, seemingly finally finding humor in the situation. "You know what. I changed my mind. I'd also like to know. Agent?"

You look to the ceiling with a pitiful look. Maria had only been joking, there wouldn't be any real consequences for refusing to tell her. Fury, however, was your boss, and if he wanted to be a dick about it, he could. Apparently your recent stunt with your injury had pressed his 'asshole' button. "I built it." you mutter.

Fury spoke in a tone louder than necessary, just to mess with you. "Sorry, Agent, I didn't catch that."

You glare at him and only speak up a little bit. "Said I built it, sir."

Fury chuckled, and spoke again in the louder-than-necessary voice, "Ah, you built the bed! What a nice thing to do, Agent!"

Rocket could be heard from the kitchen cheering, "I frickin knew it!"

You glared at your boss and coworker. "I hate you both so much."

Fury chuckled. "Goodbye, Agent."

"Goodbye, sir." you reply, promptly shutting the door.

You turn to see Rocket standing smugly in the kitchen doorway. Peter and Kraglin were standing behind him, appearing amused.

"Not a word." you say, barely looking at them as you made for the stairs.

Rocket laughed. "Oh, I was just going to ask if I should give my regards to you, or the faeries."

"Can't hear you!" you call back as you walk up the stairs.

"Come on now, that was a nice thing ya did!" Kraglin said, his tone teasing.

"Not listening!" you cry back as you climb higher, fully aware you were acting a bit like a child, but not caring in your pursuit to get away.

They heard your door shut and Kraglin turned to Peter to say, "She's an odd one, ain't she?"

"Yep."

***

Gamora felt uneasy. After conversing with the others about you, she had contacted Agent Hill on the communication device SHIELD had given them in case any issues arose. They were naturally concerned with how you kept to your room after the injury, and a few therefore worried that the injury was worse than you let on.

They could have just let you be, after you made it clear that you wouldn't accept their help, but after they saw you risk further injury to save their friend, she and Peter collectively decided they'd risk overstepping and contact SHIELD. You helped one of them, they'd help you. Even if you didn't want it, they felt you needed it.

What they hadn't expected was for Fury to be angry about it and, as a result, assign Gamora as your warden.

She talked with Peter in private, discussing what she should do about the situation. She didn't see the situation going well. You barely knew each other and you could be... well, stubborn might be an understatement. Eventually they agreed there was only one thing to be done. Just do it.

Or, at least make it look like she had every intention of carrying through without pissing you off to much. Sometimes people needed a little tough love for their own good, but Gamora knew if they crossed the line into overbearing things could go south real quick, and she didn't want to risk finding the tipping point that would make you make them leave. Being assigned someone to report back on you if you misbehaved was probably humiliating enough without them pushing it.

Now if they could only get Rocket on board.

You stayed in your room most of the day, but when you did come out to eat or to stretch your legs Rocket would throw teases at you, saying that you better stay in line if you didn't want Gamora to tell on you, and throwing taunts about the punishment Fury had threatened you with if you disobeyed the doctor's orders.

To their surprise, however, you just ignored him. You literally just didn't acknowledge him. Just walked about your business, and returned to your room without even a glance in his direction.

Then they realized it was only because you couldn't hear him. You had your earbuds in. Probably for the best, really.

Gamora's uneasiness eventually turned into relief when it became clear that you didn't hold a major grudge against her for squealing on you or her assignment from Fury. Based on your reaction earlier she had been worried that you'd focus your ire on her, but for whatever reason, you didn't seem to.

It was true, you didn't hold a grudge against her. Well, not after you had a chance to cool down about the situation, that is. Listening to music always made you feel better, so it helped your mood that you had kept your earbuds in for most of the day, (and let's be honest, it saved Rocket's ass too.) You took some time to reflect. Except for a period when you went for a walk to decompress, you stayed in your room and just thought about the situation. From what you had seen of Gamora, she probably only thought she was helping. Why she wanted to, you couldn't guess, but you just assumed she did. Fury was probably just trying to teach you a lesson, and you resolved to not let it get to you. You'd play the game, be good, and then he'd eventually get off your back. Easy.

After spending most of the day reflecting, you didn't feel as cranky as you had that morning. Yup, good old music and walking had done it's job to help your mood...

You hadn't made the connection that each of the three times Mantis came to your shared room to check on you, and would take your hand or place hers on your arm to ask how you were feeling, you felt a little more contented. You just assumed she was feeling affectionate and that you enjoyed her company.

Both of those were true, but Mantis had also been working her magic a little, wanting to see you cheer up but doing it in tiny doses so as to not ruin the practical joke Yondu had said would be real funny later if she didn't tell you about her abilities. She didn't know when the joke would be over, but she also didn't want to ruin it and disappoint her new friend.

Later that night you decided to break out a bottle of whiskey from the cellar. Try to get a buzz going. You brought it into the kitchen, asking those already at the table if they wanted any. Well, it was more like telling them that they knew where the glasses were if they wanted some, but still, an offer is an offer.

You sat down and poured yourself a glass as Peter grabbed a glass each for him and Gamora, and Kraglin fetched one for himself and Yondu.

Gamora was the first to speak. "I just wanted to aplogi-"

"No."

"What?"

"It's awkward enough without the apology. It's done. I'm sure you thought you were being helpful or something, but it's done."

Gamora raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Well I-"

You sigh. "Look, if it makes you feel better, you're forgiven or whatever, but I don't want to talk about it. 'Kay?" you down your glass and pour another. "Don't kill my buzz before it's even started."

Peter started to speak up. "Well I feel Krags and I at least-"

You cut him off as well. "Same goes for you. We're not going to talk about it right now. It's done."

"Oh...kay..." Peter said, taking a sip. He attempted small talk after a bit. "So... how did you come about working for SHIELD?"

You sipped and shrugged before setting your glass down. "My dad was an agent, and I guess I followed in his footsteps." you say, toying with your glass. Eager to turn the conversation away from you, you asked, "How'd you lot go about becoming 'Guardians of the Galaxy'?"

That question had the desired effect. Peter started off the story by telling you how it actually all started with them getting thrown in prison over a stone and then breaking out of said prison together to locate said powerful stone that some dick called Ronan was going to use to wipe out an entire planet.

About a quarter the way through the story the rest of the Guardians came and the same offer was extended to them before you stood up and announced you should probably grab another bottle as the one you brought up was nearly empty.

Rocket piped up, "So where ya hide it anyway?"

You looked at him, confused and a little tipsy. Cocking your head you asked, "What?"

"The booze. You always seem to pull it out of thin air. Figured you were hiding it."

You blink at him while Peter scolded him for being dumb, a sentiment you now currently shared. You laugh and look at Gamora, who looked embarrassed by her friend. "Is he always this dumb?" Not waiting for an answer you turn back to Rocket. "It ain't hidden. Dipshit." You turn away to resume your task.

Rocket, offended that you would call him dumb, said, "If you ain't hiding it, why haven't we ever seen where you keep it."

Now Kraglin was giving him looks. Even if you were hiding it, it was your shit. You were already giving them a place to stay, you didn't owe them booze too. The rest were sure Rocket was just trying to get a rise from you, but the secondhand embarrassment was real.

You rolled your eyes but kept walking. It was most likely the alcohol, but you were actually finding humor in his stupidity. "It's in the cellar, space case. I won't stop you from tagging along. Make sure your mother signs the permission slip." With that you slipped out the kitchen door.

The guardians exchanged glances at your comment and Peter, who remembered school and field trips, said, "That was a joke. You wouldn't get it." He then stood up and said, "Might as well take the chance to see something new since we don't know how long we'll be stuck here." He then looked to Rocket and asked if he was coming, since technically the invitation had been extended to him.

Rocket, who had been clearly hoping for, or at least expecting, a fight, awkwardly followed in the direction you had left. Mantis and Groot stated they wanted to go see the cellar too, but the others opted to stay behind.

Seeing that four of them had actually decided to take up your mock-offer to come to the cellar, you waited for them to catch up. You honestly didn't care if they went into the cellar, as long as Groot didn't go down there to play, and you made a point to ask Peter to tell him that you didn't mind him coming down with the rest of you tonight, but he was under no circumstances to come down there to play as he could get hurt.

Rocket translated instead, seeming irritated that you had given the message to Peter instead of him, and you open the door start to walking down the stairs, the others trailing behind.

The cellar wasn't anything spectacular. The stairs were a bit creaky with age, and it was dusty and dim even with the light on. The walls were stone strung with cobwebs and the floor was made up of old red brick.

You reached the ground and led them to some shelves on the wall across from the boiler, to grab the whiskey. On the other wall next to the shelves was an old wooden door, but other than that, a few cans of paint, and another set of shelves on the far end of the cellar, it was largely empty. You didn't keep much down there due to the damp.

You turned back to face them once you grabbed a bottle and asked if Rocket was satisfied. You didn't recieve an answer, not like you had expected one anyway. Gesturing back to the whiskey you said to Peter that it was down here if they wanted it. You didn't care as long as they didn't get sloppy drunk and start wrecking shit on the regular.

Peter nodded and the four took in the sight of the cellar. Mantis looked like she regretted her decision to come down, and said it was a little creepy, and Groot seemed to share her opinion. Good. Would mean he wouldn't care to come play down there. Peter and Rocket, however, looked at the shelf behind you in surprise. There was... more whiskey than they had anticipated. A lot more.

"Not that it's any of my business, but why do you have so much whiskey down here?"

You turned back to the shelf. Remembering the reason combined with your tipsy state made you giggle as you answered honestly. "Decided to order a small case awhile back just to have a bit around. Might have ordered it drunk and messed up the size of the order... just a bit..."

'A bit' was an understatement. The whiskey didn't sit on just one shelf, but rather the whiskey took up a whole shelving unit. You had only meant to order one case. A case would have been maybe six bottles. Somehow you ended up ordering six cases, and of course there were no refunds. So, into the cellar with a few other assorted bottles it went. You didn't do any online shopping while drunk after that again.

Peter chuckled at your honesty and noticed the wooden door for the first time. He debated asking about it, it seemed oddly placed considering the layout of the house above, but Mantis beat him to it.

"Where does that door go?" she asked, pointing to it.

You look to the door and then back to them. "Closet," you say, before widening your eyes in mock realization to tease Rocket. "Oh right, better prove it before that one gets all suspicious again!"

Rocket narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, not thrilled with you making him the butt of a joke as you opened the door to reveal a small, dark closet, maybe a meter deep and just as wide. Pipe wrenches hung on hooks off the door, and inside was a bucket, a broom, and a shovel resting against a wall of shallow shelves which were empty aside from a few random tools and a couple lanterns.

You closed the door after a moment and to Peter's surprise you handed him the whiskey bottle you had retrieved and grabbed another. "Might as well grab two, save me a trip if we run out again," you explain before shooing them all up the stairs.

Once back in the kitchen you re-took your seat and poured yourself another glass before sliding the bottle towards the middle of the table for someone else to grab. "Alright, I believe you were telling a story now?" you say to Peter as he also sat down, seeming surprised you were still interested.

And you were. It was quite an interesting story and you had to admit it captured your attention quite well.

Before you knew it an hour had passed and the second bottle was finished between seven of you when they'd finished telling it. Mantis didn't like the taste and Groot wasn't permitted to have any, though fortunately he didn't seem to mind. Just sipped on some juice you had gotten up to pour for him and Mantis and played about on the table adorably as Peter told the story.

The Ronan guy had gotten the stone, but Peter and his team still won anyway, having managed to get the stone away from him. You had giggled when you realized that Peter had more or less described that they had used 'the power of friendship' to hold onto the stone, though he didn't seem as keen on that comparison. You were also surprised to learn that the little Groot before you wasn't the original Groot, but rather more like the original's son, and that Kraglin and Yondu weren't part of the team yet in this story, but actually the leaders of an almost adversary group of space pirates that had agreed to work with Peter with the promise of obtaining the stone for themselves. You wanted to ask about that, how they came about joining Peter's team and where the rest of their crew was, Ravagers you believed they were called, but before you could Yondu interjected.

"Yeah, I'd almost forgot about that switcharoo ya pulled with the stone, boy." Yondu said to Peter, who, now several drinks in, included that bit of the story despite the former captain and first mate sitting right at the table with him.

Peter chuckled nervously in response, and said in jest, "Well, you got a cool troll doll out of it, that's something, right?"

You snorted a short laugh out your nose at that, making the others turn to you in surprise. Aside from a few questions, you had been more or less quiet the whole time until now. "Troll doll?" you say, clearly tipsy, behind your hand. The thought was ludicrous to you. Of all the things, a troll doll.

Peter grinned, pleased to see you found it funny. "It was the only thing I had on hand that would fit in the orb." He admitted, giggling.

Gamora's eyes crinkled as she looked at Peter. She hadn't had nearly as much drink as him, but she still found his giggly nature and his ability to tell a story to be endearing. This was probably the most she had let herself relax since they arrived.

Kraglin lightheartedly punched Peter in the shoulder. He'd been angry when the "switcharoo" incident happened, but he'd since been given enough reason to get over it.

"You goofy cunt," you chuckled at Peter, standing from the table and grabbing the empty bottle to bin it.

Peter raised an eyebrow and cocked his head at you as you walked toward the bin. Had you just called him a 'cunt'?

The others shared surprised contemplative looks and Kraglin said, "I think that was a compliment?" He was unsure, but you hadn't exactly said it in a derogatory way, so perhaps it was?

You overheard him and said from the bin, "Eh. Close enough." You spared one final giggly glance towards the group before leaving the kitchen to use the bathroom.

Peter shrugged, correctly assuming that he shouldn't be offended and stood to put his now-empty glass in the sink before re-joining the table with the others.

They sat chatting for a bit longer, before they thought they heard the soft sounds of singing coming from the sitting room. Exchanging glances, Peter and Gamora decided to go check it out.

***

You didn't return to the kitchen after you finished your business. The story was finished and you were in a better mood than you had been that morning so you just made your way to the sitting room to relax in your rocking chair before your buzz could wear off.

You had been there just a few minutes with your eyes falling closed when the sensation of something crawling up your leg startled you. You jump slightly only to see it was Groot crawling into your lap. You then relaxed. Cute little bugger looked sleepy, and for whatever reason, decided he would crawl up into the rocking chair with you. You didn't mind, and even if you did, you were getting a little too sleepy to feel like wasting energy making him move.

He climbed up on your slinged arm, too light for the action to cause you any pain, and curled up as you rocked away.

You weren't sure what possessed you, likely the whiskey, but you started to softy sing him a lullaby. One you remembered your grandmother singing you to sleep with when you were little.

***

Gamora peeked in the doorway and stopped, seeing you in the rocking chair, though you didn't see her. The rocking chair faced the bookshelf on the opposite wall, putting your gaze perpendicular to her own.

You were the source of the singing, and it didn't take long for her to notice Groot curled up sleeping against you and to deduce that what you were singing was a lullaby.

The others had come to see as well, but Gamora motioned for them to be quiet and didn't let them get past the doorway, afraid that you would stop if you knew you had an audience.

"What is it?" Drax asked.

"I think she's singing a lullaby to Groot." Peter answered, turning to peek back through the doorway for a moment before stepping aside to let Drax see. Drax smiled warmly at the sight and motioned Mantis to take his spot.

Kraglin chuckled and whispered over to an equally amused Yondu, "Well ain't that precious."

"So what?" asked Rocket, annoyed that everyone was gathered by the doorway instead of entering. He was, however, definitely not jealous that Groot would have taken to you well enough to let you sing a lullaby to him. He was also definitely not irritated about the fact that Groot had aparently just fallen right asleep in your lap, when he had been having to deal with Groot fitting to go to sleep most nights due to being someplace new.

Gamora looked to him. "It's sweet."

"She ain't sweet, it's all an act. She don't really care."

"So it was an act when she shot that raccoon and saved your ass?" asked Peter, rolling his eyes at his furry friend.

Rocket threw up his arms in frustration, unwilling to admit the possibility of being wrong. "Probably! She don't really care about us. We're just an assignment to her. And I didn't need her help anyway."

Peter rolled his eyes again, and that's when they noticed the singing had stopped. They were too busy arguing to notice it had been getting softer and softer. Gamora peeked in again and saw that you had fallen asleep, and she whispered back to the group as such.

"Good. I'm putting Groot to bed." Rocket said, pushing through the others before they could say anything.

"Rocket!" Gamora hissed, finally entering the room herself along with Peter.

Rocket ignored her as he approached the rocking chair. Who did you think you were anyway, singing lullabies to Groot? You weren't his mother. He was the one raising Groot, he didn't need some Terran dickhead stepping in and playing 'mommy.' Rocket let his frustration get the better of his sense and instead of gently climbing to retrieve Groot, or asking someone else once he realized he wouldn't quite be able to reach, he decided to be an asshole and jump right into your lap, startling both you and Groot awake in the process.

"Ow! The hell?" you said groggily, rubbing your eyes.

"Oh, sorry. Did I wake you?" Rocket said mockingly before walking off with a confused and groggy Groot.

The others gave him disapproving looks as they dispersed, not wanting to crowd the doorway any longer.

"You're a real asshole, ya know that?" Kraglin said before heading towards the stairs with Yondu. Rocket just ignored him.

Mantis, who also decided she would go to bed, said to Rocket as they climbed, "You're wrong, you know. She does care. I've felt it."

Rocket just rolled his eyes and said, "Whatever," before bounding up the rest of the stairs and to his room to put Groot down to sleep.

Peter and Gamora had decided to head back into the kitchen with Drax to clean up the forgotten empty glasses on the table, so by the time you got up and decided to head to bed yourself the hall was empty.

Too tired to do anything else, you decided to just go to bed. As you made your way up the stairs you remembered taking the others to the cellar and showing them what was behind the door, and wondered if you should consider getting a lock, just in case Groot disobeyed and decided to go play down there anyway.

They didn't need to find out what was behind the back wall of that closet.

131 notes · View notes

fakeloveaskblog · 3 years ago

Note

Greetings from the void, Remington Siest, I have been summoned in your stead—

Oh, it's you! We've already met! Right! Uh, Remus's nonbinary demon friend again, this time coming from the shadowy corners in your room that you never look to. My apologies for that little scare, it's my day job you see, and someone else did summon me to you; old habits die hard, yadda yadda. How have you been? How are you liking that Raccoon plushie I sent?

Now, as for what's been requested of me *sounds of paper shuffling* hmm, ok, yeah, that's easy! Remus adores you, can confirm! Both him and Janus love having you as a friend and while I cannot speak on Remus'd behalf on the matter I can say that Janus is absolutely smitten with you (on a romantic sense) beyond a shadow of a doubt! He doesn't and will never only want you for your body, or leave you if you were to reject any advances he may yet put forth, so you can rest easy on that issue!

Oh. *hears what Remy has to say to their summoner before the message sents* Oh my. *starts to panic* Seems things are worse than I thought. I have. No idea what to say that wouldn't make this any worse! Where's the person who cheers you up and sents you nice text messages when you need it?! Ah, guess if they're not here this falls to me until they do get here? Uh, darn the timer's running out, um.

Remy… you are amazing and a great person and your friends love you for you, and you alone, not just your body, you! (Remus is ace for crying out loud!) Other than the obvious… now, we don't have time to unpack all of that, but…! *quickly sents a link to a social media app on Remy's phone* So. *John Mulaney voice* Hey, do you want me to kill that guy for you? Because it sounds like he sucks and I would totally kill that guy for you!

(U!Virgil, emotional abuse)

Remy: "Oh girl I am loving the raccoon! I sewed him a lil like hoodie so now he like reminds me even more of my boyf. I have-"

They forced in a sharp breathe through their teeth while their whole body trembled from pain. The plushie was pressed close to their chest as they laid in bed. All the blinds were rolled down because any and all light would bring them a migraine right now.

"I haven't like....been doing too hot...I...It's like....a lot right now"

They took a few moments to really listen to your message. (How good that all demon messages came with an automatic playback function)

"...Jan does seem so sweet...and Rem makes me feel all warm...maybe you’re right" They buried their face into the soft fur of the plushie "I want Jan to like hold me like all the time. He's so soft"

(A part of them still felt doubt. Sweet guys had left them before. They tried to press the doubt deep deep down until they couldn’t hear it anymore)

"I really hope Jan like texts me about hanging out soon. Like shopping or eating at some resturant or like going out walking or whatever. I just wanna like talk to him. He seems like tots a good listener right? Would be like good to vent to I guess...I kinda want to...I trust him. I think....I shouldn’t vent....I shouldn’t”

The door opened. The small amount of light coming in made them whimper and hide down under the blanket. Virgil came in. He hunched down by the bed.

“You feeling any better?”

“Bitch look at me. I’m dying more than a 70′s fashion trend!! Oh woe me!”

He kissed them on the nose before taking out a pill from one of the medicine bottles on their bedside table. Remy immediately tensed up.

If they took that pill then eventually the bottle would be empty and Virgil would have to pay for another and they wouldn’t have any way to make it up to him because they were useless and couldn’t work and could barely even be used properly and he would probably tell them himself how horrible of a burden they were and they were probably supposed to refuse or he would get mad and-

“You need it” He had a soft look in his eyes.

“I’m fine babe!” They spat out in panic.

Virgil grabbed onto their jaw and forced their mouth open. The back of their head got pressed down into the mattress. It hurt. They knew he would just sigh back how Everything hurt to them if they said anything. They grabbed onto his wrist to try and force him away, they couldn’t. He wasn’t strong but they were very weak.

He pressed the pill down into the back of their mouth. “Swallow” He kept their mouth open until they did as told. “Good. Was that really hard” He muttered sarcastically.

Their whole body was still so tense it ached “Please babe you just sounded like a laughably pathetic daddy dom”

Virgil fiddled with his hoodie strings like he always did when he got flustered “I Uh didnt’ mean to. Gross. Eh. Dinner’s almost ready by the way”

“Don’t burn the stove down” They teased.

“Shut up you smartass”

“You wish”

“Idiot” He said jokingly before kissing them. He left to check so the stove hadn’t actually burned down.

Remy painstakingly turned to look at you. They pressed the plushie closer. The medicine started to make them drowzy. It did that sometimes.

“My boyfriend doesn’t suck...he’s sweet. so sweet” They mumbled out “Most days he’s so sweet. Like today. And on bad days he just like doesn’t lie. He just says the truth..he gets so anxious about me leaving him....isn’t that like kinda romantic...him being so desperate for me to not leave he just...he just says stuff...and yells...and.....and it’s sweet. He’s so sweet”

They kind of wished Virgil would always be either sweet or honest. It made them so stressed to never know how they had to act. At least their dad never made them stressed like that. He was always angry. That made it easy

Remy gripped onto the stuffie harder. They hated when their brain made connections between his boyfriend and-

“He loves me. He just like loves me so much. All that stuff that sounds bad it’s either ‘cause he’s trying to make me stay, like I would leave or someting, or- or ‘cause it’s true”

....But....But they’d thought the whole thing about how no one else would want them except for their body was true...but if Janus didn’t....then it wasn’t true....Remy couldn’t help but wonder if-

The door opened again. Virgil came in with 2 bowls of black bean soup. The silly wondering was quickly forced away from their thoughts.

He sat down on the bed next to them and set the bowls onto the bed table they had for bedridden days. He gently put his hands on their back and neck to help them sit up. When they whimpered he kissed them.

“I’m not hungry” Remy muttered.

“Beanie you are”

They could eat on their own but they didn’t say no when he used the spoon to feed them. It made them feel pampered and it made him feel needed. Double win.

“Babe this tastes horrible. just saying as like a warning” They said after finishing half the bowl.

“Like you could do any better” He pressed a playful kiss to their forehead.

“Oh yeah definitely! I just put the ingredient in! And then the like water! and then it’s done! Easy!!”

“Woooow. Wish I’d thought of that”

They smiled “Yeah that’s why you’ve got dick for brain. Bitch”

He simply snapped his finger into their forehead in reply “Wanna watch a horror movie?”

Remy got bored by horror movies and Virgil easily got anxious by them even though he loved them so really he was if they wanted to make out and cuddle to avoid looking at the film.

“You akready know I want to”

They didn’t look which movie he picked. They’d already cuddled up to his side and pressed their head to his chest. He moved his arms around them so he could eat his soup while the movie started.

It was so nice. They could hear his heartbeat through his hoodie. He was so sweet. They were so horrible.

They didn’t deserve it. They didn’t deserve it. They didn’t deserve it.

#thanks for the ask!!! that must have taken you some time to write <3 #ask #remy sanders #unsympathetic virgil #sanders sides #obsessed with how your ask makes the implication that remy has a tumblr

14 notes · View notes

seizethecarpe · 4 years ago

Text

Appetite || Dave and Griffin

Timing: Current Summary: Dave is hungry. Griffin knows the feeling. One is definitely coping better than the other with this. Content: Animal death

His stomach was bloated. Blubber smeared his hands like oil slick, the breast of his shirt bloodied. His whole body trembled with a growing revulsion as he looked at the carcass laid strewn on the rocks, evidence of a messy meal. Seal fur was caught between his teeth. Less control than a starving dog. He swallowed uneasily, turning and wading into the water so that he might wash off the mess and sin. Jesus christ, there was so much blood all over him, covering his clothes like a coat he couldn’t take off. His stomach felt distended, filled like a stuffed chicken, but still, his mind whispered for more. At this point, it was sheer arrogance that kept Dave in denial, but it suited him to pretend nothing was wrong. For some reason, he lurched towards land the second he saw a figure moving along the beachside hungrily, long before he realised why he was moving.

It was thankless work, looking for floaters, but someone had to do it. As far as Griffin saw it, it was a waste of good brains. Someone had to clean up what with the way the White Crest mortality rate went. Or it was a nice, rose-tinted glasses thought to see it that way. Truthfully, he was just hungry. That’s all it was. Death on White Crest’s shoreline wasn’t unheard of and he wasn’t against sifting through wet sand. The zombie could feel it, the way it tugged at his gut like a rope, and he wandered closer to the water. Something was nearby. Something dead. His teeth ground together. How was its head? Focused on the craving, it took him a moment for the rest of his senses to catch up. Such as noticing that he wasn’t alone and Jesus Christ, the guy looked fucking rough. His eyes flitted from the carcass--was that a seal?--on the rock and the guy coming towards him. Water edged close to his feet. There was something familiar about the movement. The zombie unlocked his jaw but didn’t move himself. “You alright there, guy?”

Dave strode out of the water without pause, uninterested in whatever the man had to say, knowing only that the feeling drawing him towards the man was insistent and pressing. Maybe he’d be able to help whatever the hell was going on. All he knew was that his instincts were as demanding as a current, dragging him forward by his stomach. Perhaps he could even get a sna-

Dave inhaled and lurched to a stop, six feet away from the man, who did not smell so appealing at all. His stomach twisted at the thought, still ravenous but repulsed at… at what? He hadn’t been considering eating the man. No one sane would do that, it wouldn’t even cross their mind. But this one… this one smelled like week old road kill preserved by a january freeze. In short: he smelled dead. “Don’t know,” Dave replied honestly, when his jaw started working. “Are you?”

Griffin’s eyes fixed on the other man in a dead stare. The shuffle, the gait. The way the body moved after something it needed. Mix in a hint of restraint, shake in some desperation, strain it over some ice…The zombie’s head tipped back by a slim margin. He didn’t blink. “Don’t know either,” he retorted. He glanced back to the seal on the rock. Not his first choice but little really was. “...You’re hungry.” It wasn’t a question. It had already been answered when the man stopped dead in his tracks before he could make it to Griffin. Dead meat didn’t taste so good. He lazily gestured to what remained of the seal. “That yours?”

Dave dragged his mind back from the brink of starvation, sick with how full he was and how much more he still wanted to eat. Under the scrutiny of the man, unflinching and hard, Dave began to feel the first creepings of shame. He didn’t want to eat that kid, nor the woman in the lake, nor anyone else, but it was a need deeper than anything he;d ever felt. Even his hunger for revenge had never been so loud. Even now… would it really be so bad to eat a corpse? It’d taste a little bland, but that human flesh would taste so much better than a seal ever would. For some part of him, it’d still be a step too damn far, and the indecision threatened to tear him apart. Dave staggered, saliva dripping from his lips. “Something’s wrong,” Dave admitted, finally. “Never been like this. Never… not like this. I ain’t some beast.”

Except now, blood stained, clothes torn, with a seal corpse behind him, he wasn’t so sure. His hesitation wavered in his stoic voice. He looked back at the carcass behind him, his body shaking. “Shouldn’t have done that. She had pups.” His first thought was how delicious those would be too.

Griffin had never seen someone hunger for seal before. It was an interesting choice, to say the least. He wondered why that was. There were easier things to grab. Rats, the neighborhood dog, a raccoon or two. But it wouldn’t be the same. It never was. Even after he got his fill of Homeward Bound, there would always be that...emptiness. The zombie fixed the other man with a calm look as he dug into the pocket of his jacket to grab a handkerchief. Old habits, he thought to himself, before he tossed it over. “Yeah, ‘course you’re not,” he said honestly. “You’re just hungry.”

He poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue as he thought, eyes on the seal’s corpse.

“Did you…” What was a good way to ask if someone had died? He hadn’t quite learned that one. “What happened to you?”

Dave Dave caught the handkerchief out of instinct, and looked down at the crumpled material with something approaching shame. It already picked up blood stains from his fingers. He wiped the corners of his mouth, and a fatty strong of blubber smeared into the cloth along with all the blood and spit.

"I don’t know," Dave admitted hoarsely. I don’t know. I woke up hungry a few days ago, and I keep eating, but it keeps getting worse. Like… like I’ve got some sort of parasite. I'm full, damn near bloated, but I'm still hungry." Ravenous. Ready to eat decaying meat even as it offered him a tissue. Dave could barely fit another thought in his mind other than the crushing command to eat. Like if he didn't, the very thought might consume him surer than a mermaid's bite.

"You're dead," he stated after a long moment. "I'm not… I'm not going to eat you. I… it's fucked, I want to. I won't." Probably. He took a step back into the water. "We're not… we're not like that."

“I am, yeah,” Griffin muttered, pale brow creased. “Seems like you’ve still got a pulse. Probably. Did anything...bite you?” He understood having the hangups, even if this man wasn’t...dead. Like him. There was a little confusion brewing in him at that. It took time to break down the mental barriers in place to prevent, or strongly discourage, people from eating one another. Like the whole idea of you could bite through your finger like a carrot if you really wanted to. Griffin wasn’t sure on that one. He and carrots hadn’t seen each other in awhile. He huffed a laugh, an odd sound in the quiet they shared marked by death and famine.

“Thanks. I’m not gonna eat you either,” he said with a wry smile, then a slight rise and fall of his hand. “It was like this at the start for me too. Just a diner and...more people.” He gestured around him, a fanned out motion, before he glanced down and worked his jaw. “It gets easier,” he said. “The, uh, eating. You don’t think about it as much. It’s always there but it’s not...you always, you know?”

Dave nodded slowly, as if he was briefly unconvinced by the assertion about his own pulse. At the question about whether he’d been bitten, Dave frowned, looking at the unravelling bandage on his arm that he wasn’t supposed to get wet, that he should have changed earlier in the day. It was increasingly hard to remember he had a body that needed caring for. Right now, he was more hunger than man. “A werewolf. It should make me sick, not anything like this,” Dave said, lowering his arm again, licking his lips as he looked at Griffin again. “Shouldn’t eat people. Shouldn’t eat seals, not like this.”

“How does it get easier? I’m getting hungrier every day. My stomach’s fit to burst, but it’s like I haven’t eaten in weeks.” Dave insisted still, not realising how intently rude he was. “I’m not like you. The hunger- it’s not supposed to be like this. Not for me. We don’t… We don’t lose control.” He looked at the carcass behind him, entrails bobbing in the waves. They weren’t the signs of someone in control. He shuddered, dropping to his knees on the hard rocks, rubbing his face like he might snap himself out of it “I have to get away from here.”

Griffin eyed the bandage. He wasn’t an authority on much, if anything at all, but he knew hunger. The death that followed it. It usually started with teeth and it ended, whenever it ended, the same way too. A werewolf. Right. Those were around too. It was becoming apparent that his knowledge of strange and unusual was frustratingly limited. A byproduct of avoidance. He frowned to himself before he echoed what the man said. “A werewolf? How do you know that it’ll just make you sick? I’m not...familiar with ‘em.” The question came from his own curiosity and the strange, sympathetic notion that maybe if the man talked about it, it might help. Wasn’t that what people said? Fuck if he knew what people said. The man seemed really hung up on the seal. “You shouldn’t eat seals like this?”

“Maybe easier isn’t the right word,” Griffin admitted. “It gets more manageable. It’s all just... meat in the end. That’s all it needs to be.” All it has to be. The zombie held the man with pale eyes, his own pallor sickly and drained. Not the flash fever that this man seemed to be going through. As the man stumbled some, Griffin took a confident step forward and held out a hand. “You haven’t tried to eat me yet so...control.” He lifted and dropped a hand with a shrug. The step made the carrion call in his gut a touch louder. “Whatever this is, it’s different. I’ve never gone for seal before but...” He stopped himself. “There somewhere you can go?”

Dave turned his head to look at the man looking over him, squinting at the sunlight shining in his eyes. Griffin’d never had a craving for seal, but Dave would bet his home that Griffin had died a human, before. Dave… well, Dave’d never been human. Maybe the werewolf had been a werewolf zombie, it’d explain the strange healing and the surviving being shot to a face. Dave panicked and touched his wrist,k but his heart was still beating loud and strong. For now. “Control. Feel like I’m holding on to that with a thread.”

“Got my van,” Dave said quietly. Picked up a pebble worn smooth by the Sea. She didn’t do that to folks, she wore wrinkled into their faces and callouses into their skin. The quiet texture grounded him. “Too many towns nearby. Too many humans.” Dave rubbed his face. “Too much temptation. I need to get away away. Maybe on a boat. Ride this out. It shouldn’t work like this.” Because if he waited long enough, right, it had to go away. Washed away like the hard edges of his rock.

“You’ve still got your mind,” Griffin said as he tapped a finger against his temple. “That’s something. Use both hands to hold onto that one.” A sardonic smile came and went. A funny thing for a zombie to say, he figured. The pull of the dead was strong. Had been ever since he moved closer to the man. A few more steps, water up his shins, and he was on the seal carcass. Crouched beside it and fingers prepped to peel the meat. At the mention of too many humans, Griffin picked his eyes up from the meat and cocked a brow. His tongue pressed against his bottom lip before he nodded in understanding.

“No humans here,” Griffin said with a puff of needless breath through his nose. “Haven’t been that for awhile.” The meat was slick in his fingers and when he swallowed it down, there was just a hint of salt. It wasn’t bad but he kept that thought to himself. He almost felt bad for the seal but it was dead now. It couldn’t feel anything. All it had left to do was rot and feed. It might take time for the man to understand that. If what he was going through lasted that long. “Do you think a boat’s a good idea? Where more...seals are?” He wiped the gore against his bent knees. “It’s your call but…” He paused and scrutinized the carcass, then looked at the man again. “This...hunger. It’s, ah, hell. But if you…” He hadn’t done this in awhile. “You’re not like me, we established that, but I get it. This.” A loose gesture was made between the carcass and the man standing. “If you need help...somehow, I don’t fuckin’ know, I’ll try my best.” More dead meat was torn between his teeth. “...That’s all.”

“Barely,” Dave replied gruffly. “For a while, huh?” It was like the hunger had filled every inch of him, and now with nowhere else to fill, it had begun to squeeze him out like putty through a sieve. If it pushed hard enough, Dave wasn’t sure there’d be much left of him. He frowned as Griffin leant in to eat the carcass too, nearly tearing the zombie away. He wasn’t allowed. But then neither was Dave, and at the very least like this nothing would go to waste. Her body would be used whole, the way it was meant to be. “Out in the open water’s away from most things. Seals included. Better than this, it’s got to be.” Better than calling out a hunter. Better than admitting something was wrong that he couldn’t fix.

“S’a kind offer. More than I deserve.” Dave grabbed Griffin’s arm sharply, squeezing tightly. There was hunger on his mind, thick as soup. Every second it mattered less that Griffin was less fresh than the carcass on the beach, that he was being kind and fucking understanding. There was a desperation to Dave’s hunger, stuffed full of flesh as he was. Nothing was hitting the spot, not fish nor squid nor seals. He needed to try something new, something better. “I think. One of us oughta go.” Before he tore out Griffin’s throat. His nose wrinkled, he looked back in disgust at the thought of wanting to eat anything, anyone, but mostly at the thought of eating anything so rotten.

But his stomach gurgled loud of enough for even him to hear. He couldn’t quite get himself to let go.

“Yeah,” Griffin said. “A while.” He didn’t want to further elaborate and he was sure that Dave got the gist of it. One nearly empty cup of half-and-half, that’s what he was. He continued eating until the man grabbed his arm and he stopped. The grip was tight, desperate. There was a war happening behind the man’s eyes, the kind that cracked ribs and split flesh. Griffin nodded again. “You go where you have to go,” he said. “Wherever is...comfortable. To figure this out and shit.” And then tell me what that’s like, when you find this Shangri-La, he thought bitterly to himself. Such places didn’t exist. Wouldn’t ever. Not with things the way they were.

As delicately as he could, Griffin unfurled Dave’s hand from around his bicep and stepped away from the seal carcass. Before he walked away fully, he pocketed his dirtied hands and glanced back. “I’ll see you around. Don’t forget my offer, huh?” Or yourself. The hunger had a way of eating at the self too. With a slim smile and a faint wave, the dead man was gone.

#chatzy #wickedswriting #v plot #griffin #hi lora is an incredible writer and an absolute joy that is all #para

13 notes · View notes

endobiologist · 3 years ago

Text

Furry Species Stereotypes #1 - By Me

Note;

These are only my personal views of the furry fandom's species I know from my personal experiences with them,

and if not that, then general common assumptions or stereotypes.

Thus, this is not gospel truth for everyone!

If you disagree, please tell me why!

I'd love you guys' take.

I also tried to name as many species I could think about off the top of my head without looking them up, which took FOREEEEVER.

You can reply to this or anon ask me, or DM me with ones I've missed, even your personal own created species (even if no one knows them yet), I'll do them too in a reply to this!

Real existing species stereotypes down below, here!;

WOLVES ; Due to this being the most common persona, you are most likely someone who follows the crowd and likes things that are popular. You however are still a pretty solitary being, preferring a dark corner over a party's dance floor. You love honesty and loyalty and have those traits to a fault, never ever abandoning a friend or ally, in need or not. You may also like things like squishy toys and squeaky toys, fidget spinners, and any manner of play item. Also, basically, to sum it up; YA' BASIC. Sorry. 😆

FOXES ; Somewhat similar to ferrets, raccoons, & sometimes rats, you both scurry around quickly simultaneously physically, and in conversation, and you may "borrow" items from places seemingly like a kleptomaniac, but for sentimental items. Basically if you are friends with a fox fursona, your jacket and/or gloves, pins, pizza (LOL) and many other miscellaneous items may go missing "mysteriously" due to them collecting it as a habit. They almost never mean true harm, they just like keeping your stuff because it reminds them of you, which can be seen as creepy by some people. But it is also very endearing, if done with pure intentions. But you may want to tell the fox to stop taking your things and ask you first! LOL. You always seem to have a ridiculous amount of energy and for some reason, an insane amount of optimistic viewpoints, and positive happy personality. You also like your books, preferring to spend a night reading then playing video games. (Although you do enjoy those too.) You are pretty academic, but yet you can also do well in physical sports, if you're into that sort of thing. There are a few points in the wolf & dog category I would assign here too, most likely due to all three being canines, like liking the squeaky and squishy toys and other stem items, and being verrrry loyal if a bit solitary in nature.

CATS (BIG) ; ...Y'all are usually assholes! There! I said it! I'm sorry to say, but nine times out of 10, you guys seem to be huge dicks, and I'm... not sure why, exactly?? What attracts the enormous dickwad to the big cat's umbrella of wild cat species? Maybe, perhaps, it is the superior, regal, and majestic appearance of big cats,--perhaps relating to their usual narcissism in normal life? Okay, so, I'm exaggerating a little, I have met some big cats that are great and very good friends. But a lot of them I've seen have been downright rude, callous, cold, and distant, at best! And downright asswads at worse!! However it seems like as bad as they go when they're bad, they go really good when they're actually good. When they are cool people, they're actually surprisingly chill, especially when comparing to the other type of big cat. They tend to usually be D.J.s, dancers, comedians, performers or some sort of person in the entertainment field, in some way. Those type're usually hella nice to get along with, however their super friendly exterior disguises a very weird, eccentric and esoteric mind beneath. They also seem to ooze confidence outwardly, even if they aren't confident feeling on the inside. They are royal and regal, and usually relatively unfazed by anything that would hurt normal people pretty badly. These are usually the type of people who don't get into emotions very often, or if they do, they always still have a wall up between them and the other person. They're strong, but that's because they force themselves to be strong, and it makes for a very bad night if the big cat snaps and takes out their very strong, tiger-like roar of anger on others! Thus if you are a big cat, I suggest finding ways to manage your anger, and finding ways to relieve your stress, as I noticed people who are big cats in their fursona tend to be very stressed in real life for some reason. Again, I'm not sure why people who are, are attracted to that species specifically.

CATS (SMALL) ; You kitties are solitary like the big cats and wolves, however much more docile. There's two main types of cats that are house cats in fursona; There's the serious brooding figure that seems to be always alone yet peaking curiosity in everyone's eyes--the type that is stealthy, sneaky, and very cat-like--as in, realistic cat-like. You may sit strangely or have odd habits in voice or body, something that makes you stand out as different. There's also the second type of cat, which is basically an UWU XOXO anime girl that is ridiculously feminine, high pitched, and almost always is a neko type furry character instead of a full furry anthropomorphic character. Not that there's anything wrong with nekos, they're awesome too, it just seems to be a trend that any neko is usually a cat. You may like to actually smoke catnip! (Okay that was a joke LOL, but yes, it is possible, and yes it does get humans somewhat high, but most would not recommend it due to it being short & tasting bad! LMAO 😆) You also really like batting things around, or batting things off tables or counters--when you have a cup of tea beside you, the urge to knock your mug off the table is irresistible, even though your rational mind denies the notion from actually happening. You tend to like yarn snd thread, whether that means just playing with it or knitting or sewing etc. and making creations with it! You usually like fish a lot, mostly sushi is your favorite, and usually, you tend to be more based in Japanese culture.

DOGS ; See wolves, but add loyalty hella and way more people-oriented. you're somehow more basic than wolves 🤣

RABBITS ; As someone who has a rabbit as one of my main 3 fursonas, I have to admit I love rabbits. We are usually very social, unlike the animal we're based on, preferring to conversate and meet people. Although, like the rabbit, we may be shy to actually begin the conversation, or initiate plans on our own. We also scare easily, and most of us for some reason tend to have anxiety or panic disorders, not always, but quite often, and that can usually be why we relate to the characters of rabbits which go still & shake or attack fiercely with their hind legs if scared. There are some people with rabbit fursonas that are definitely fully shy, but a lot of them are actually quite more outgoing than you would think they are. And no, rabbits usually don't love carrots. (Including real rabbits, they eat mostly hay and carrots should only be a treat!) But for some reason one thing I noticed is that almost everybody's fursona in existence is. Just. Super sexual and flirty and just out there in every way. They can come across as perverted and strange to a lot of people due to this, once they reveal their true colours rather than their cutesy entrance, to those they know well.

DEER ; You guys are the innocent bunch, the kids that seemed to never know what was going on when it came to violence or sexual content in any media or situation. This innocence continues throughout your life. You're usually a 'deer in the headlights' and can get very confused easily and a lot, and also you can become quite shy and reclusive if you don't have friends to pull you out of it to shove you into social situations by force. You may not be 'the brightest bulb in the bunch', but you are definitely the friendliest, kindest, and most understanding one in it. Most people love being your friend because your support gives strength that can't be found elsewhere, due to the power and stability of your connection to people. You also may really like salad.

BEARS ; You guys are a bunch of big gentle giants. For some reason, most every person who plays a bear fursona seem to be gigantic in real life, either super tall, or super fat, or super muscular, or a combination or all of the above! Whatever it is, they're always big intimidating figures. Yet, despite this, they seem to be very sweet, mild-mannered and very loyal. They also seem to have a lazy streak, preferring to lay down and eat honey rather than do anything productive on time. Don't get me wrong, they'll do the task, but it'll just take until they feel like doing it. However when they have ambition, they have it and have it well, being able to rise to Big manager positions very easily. They tend to be very shy both in romantic situations and just in general. Despite their large presence, they're just a bunch of softies.

OPOSSUMS ; An opossum is one of my main fursonas, based on me. Plus I can tell you from experience that opossums are little shits. They will pester the shit out of you, text you non-stop, and talk your ears off if you let them. They're not trying to be annoying or clingy, but they're just that type of person that really clings to people and likes talking to people as long as possible when they like them. Like raccoons, rats, and other things on this list, they like hoarding treasure and they tend to be sneaky mischievous little beings, loving to pull pranks or make a joke to make someone laugh hard. The opossums are kind of the clowns of the furry species, always being the comedian of the group. We love soft blankets and we tend to sleep with our head under the covers completely like we were in our mother's pouch. Also a lot of us do what I call the 'human sofa', where we curl around someone's back as they sit, and become their backrest, to snuggle them.

WEASELS & FERRETS ; Same as opossum, but make them scary and super suspicious all the time. I mean seriously, these guys are "sus". Who knows what they're up to? But they tend to be great comedians, and can always crack a joke that's sly and sarcastic to make someone burst out laughing, even if it's just one person who does due to their obscure references to their many fandoms.

RACCOONS ; Same as opossums, weasels, and ferrets--except add that you love trash. Whether this means collecting empty boxes, like shoe boxes and electronic boxes, or collecting old newspapers, or straws, or broken glass, (who knows?!) or making new pretty things out of old withered things, all of it you adore! You enjoy the feeling of making the most out of nothing, and pulling something out of your ass to survive no matter what the situation. This tendency can lead to intense resourcefulness in every area of life.

SKUNKS ; They all tend to be really chill, mostly... because all of you are fucking weed smokers! I guess it comes with the territory since skunks have a skunky smell, but damn does your skunky smell smell skunkier than a skunk! 😆🤣 Okay, okay, now besides the usual stoner stereotypes, you skunks are pretty chill beings, usually preferring a night on the couch. Although when they do catch you adventuring, they'd catch you frolicking in nature, and catching tadpoles, or doing something odd in a river. You love forests, and also love the sounds of city, traffic, and cars passing by. Rain is one of your favourite times.

BADGERS ; Y'all are some bad motherfuckers, the type of person who could kick anyone's ass, any amount of people, and come out without a scratch. People like you are nearly indestructible, and also tend to be somewhat snappy and harsh to others, although usually unintentionally. You tend to love honey, and/or any kinds of sweet things, which tends to contrast with your spicy personality. You have a pain tolerance out of this world, and you also have mental pain tolerance as well, seeming to never get hurt or let down by others' actions. This is due to you never fully trusting, and always preparing somewhat for a let down.

TANUKIS (JAPANESE RACCOON DOGS) ; This is my main fursona, and like opossums, Japanese Raccoon Dogs / Tanukis are ridiculously loyal and strange, almost clown-like beings, and also like raccoons, they love finding old things and transforming them into new. They also tend to be very artistic and really like colours, usually having some form of synesthesia if not multiple, usually having to do with colour association. Also you usually have a very strong connection to Japan and it's culture, either being Japanese or just loving the culture itself, and tend to base a lot of your life around Japanese things. You may even be planning to move to Tokyo someday! Tanukis are notoriously mischievous, but in a friendly, jokey way, and they tend to never want to make people mad. Due to this, they are always very friendly and positive, as much as they can, even if they feel the opposite inside. These are also the types of people to be very esoteric, weird, and downright uncanny, which fits their Japanese theme as Japan does some weird shit too LOL. Also usually stoners. Also pretty flirty, but not overly.

COYOTES & OTHER MISC. CANINES ; As a less common version of dogs, you have some manner of uniqueness about you! You tend to be active, especially physically, and in sports, usually very likely to do hiking as well. You tend to be pretty chipper, although you can come across as sarcastic or biting when you're in a bad mood. When you're in a good mood, everyone can feel it, and your smile brightens up the space around you! People tend to be attracted to your demeanor, even if you don't mean to attract them, they still come, and this quality can lead you to some of your lifelong friends (and perhaps, enemies.).

SHARKS & OTHER AQUATICS ; You aquatic creatures tend to be the jocks of the group, however despite your jockiness, you actually have quite a brain on you; being able to figure out complex things like math problems that are way ahead of where you are, or learning to read very soon in your life, and maybe even being in spelling bees or talent shows later on! You tend to have a scientific mind, and definitely have at least one or two fish tanks, if not a whole room full. You can be a bit perverted, and even a little bit dominating in conversation, but for people who can get past that--you make a loyal, fun, and active friend.

SNAKES & OTHER REPTILES ; You all tend to seem shady no matter how stand-up you are, and the fact that you never go in the spotlight, always preferring to stay by the sidelines and observe and watch others closely. Occasionally, you may leave a small remark, and due to you barely talking, those things you do say echo only louder for those who hear. You tend to be reclusive and secluded, loving the silence of rainy days with no one bugging you, and your beautiful reptiles. You tend to be quite confident, and even heroic at your best, being kind and also empathetic and caring, and intelligent. At your worst, you can come off as cold, manipulative or even cruel at times. Snakes and reptiles are usually seen with dislike and/or fear by others, which can lead to a hardened heart in you that makes you trust less easily, fearing judgement in who you are.

AXOLOTLS & OTHER AMPHIBIANS ; You guys kiiinda tend to be the 'uwu i'm special!!1!' bunch, but rather than in an insensitive annoying way, in the way that you're genuinely childish and innocent and naive, which can be both a blessing and a curse. Like the aquatic axolotl, you stay young forever, (kind of like Peter Pan!) and you seemingly never lose your sense of humour, your playfulness, or your absolute randomness at times. You are someone who would fight to the death for a friend you just met, even though you are usually pacifistic. You have great traits when it comes to caring for others, and fully taking care of others--skills that would bode well for you becoming a nurse, doctor, psychiatrist or therapist. You tend to love water, and will go swimming the whole summer while it's warm enough! You also don't mind, even if it's cold, you'll jump in anyway.

MICE & OTHER RODENTS ; You guys tend to be even more cutesy and little than rabbits! A lot of you guys seem to be age aggressors due to mental illness, and thus choose a very small, innocent animal as their fursona. These people can also just be generally childlike, innocent and playful, albeit very shy. The other type of rodents are the creepy ass ones who give off a high & mighty vibe, being very confident, swaggering, and even mysterious at times. They're the cool kids you see in school, pretending to be some mysterious goth kid, but really they just learned the goth look a week ago.

GENERAL INSECTS/BUGS ; You tend to be very odd, weirding out the general public more than you do connect with them. You've always felt a strange disconnect between yourself and the world, feeling like you're not really there or like you could be more. You might have transformed from being a totally different person in your past, to being a radically different person now. You tend to rule change and dreams and mystic things, perhaps even being some sort of psychic. You tend to have an extremely open mind and a very welcoming, understanding personality, due to you even seeing the beauty in bugs, which so many find repulsive. This quality will follow you into life, which you must be careful of--don't start trusting everyone you meet. Due to you always seeing the best in everyone, you can get taken advantage of easily.

And now fictional/mythical/extinct/hybrids down here;

DUTCH ANGEL DRAGONS ; Y'all give off a very confident vibe to me, although it's hidden under an exterior of pretend anxiety or hesitancy, which you really don't feel. You're one of those preppy kids who tends to dress girly regardless of gender, can't handle coffee but loves their jasmine tea, likes their succulents planted in their house in cute little DIY decorated plant vases, and wears pastels of colour. You tend to be a bright, vibrant person who sees the best in things, and you can be a little naive due to your extreme and blind happiness that radiates purely from you.

GENERAL DRAGONS ; You tend to intimidate others easily, but this is not something you mean to do whatsoever. In fact, you usually try your best to make friends although you usually scare them off, whether due to being unintentionally too clingy, or just being too awkward in conversation. You tend to have anxiety or different worries about things, but you try and overtake these things with a massive upbeat attitude. Although sometimes, this attitude does falter, and you can become somewhat pessimistic without reminder. Also, like raccoons, ferrets and other similar animals, you love to hoard treasure and things you love, everything from gemstones, to rocks, to bottle caps, to pieces of broken glass--it doesn't matter what it is, if it's collectible, you will collect it.

PROTOGENS/PRIMAGENS ; You guys tend to lean heavily into the Japanese aesthetic, or at least into the vapourwave aesthetic. Perhaps even steampunk! Whatever it is, you follow it heavily. You also tend to be a tech nerd. You can help anyone with any computer problem almost effortlessly, and you even have knowledge of technologies in the recent past such as devices like record players, VHS tapes, etc. that most younger people wouldn't know about (if you are young, or if you're old, you know from experience.). You could even be a hacker of some sort if you wanted to, considering your huge skill with computers. Personality-wise you tend to be very cutesy, excitable and both very very innocent, and yet somehow perverted, at the same time. You most likely speak more than one language. I'm not sure why, but it seems like every protogen or primagen I've met speaks multiple languages, two at least, if not more.

SERGALS ; Very similar to sharks, with some qualities of reptiles. You guys also have the Leo zodiac-like personality type of loving to be loved; being in the spotlight is your favourite thing, no matter what it's for! Due to this, some Sergals will tire of reaching for difficult positive attention, and will start to even accept negative attention as attention they want, then will try and act like a troll on purpose to fuck with people, only to get a reaction. Other times they're just chill and generally relaxed people, although if you threaten their family they become very hostile and very unstable emotionally, quickly.

CRUX ; Due to the history of the species being about being experimented on, and abused, and combined, etc. etc., people who play cruxes tend to be pretty edgy "look at how dark I am!!" people. However not always--sometimes, weirdly, very girly, upbeat & happy people will roleplay cruxes. So it's kind of unsure what you'll get when you interact with one. It's pretty much a 50/50 chance on whether they're upbeat & happy, or dark & brooding. Whatever the case, they tend to be usually neurodivergent, since cruxes are mentally ill if you think about it basically, a lot of people have latched on to them as their comfort species for being mentally ill. Like dogs, you love squeaky toys and also you love piercings, and tattoos, and any body modification you can achieve!

PHOENIXES ; Similar 'emo' type to cruxes--people generally choose phoenixes due to their history of being unbreakable when it comes to physical harm. Due to this, a lot of emo people latched on to them. However there are also regular people who play phoenixes, and they tend to be very regal--if a bit intimidating, and are very ambitious & strong-minded people. They have a fieryness that blazes through to show their phoenix-y nature bubbling underneath the surface.

GRYPHONS ; For some reason, you tend to be very aggressive and domineering individuals--think Bakugo Katsuki from My Hero Academia, the anime. Sometimes you can come off as a huge asshole, but you're really well meaning on the inside, and you try to do your best by everyone--you just seem intimidating and aggressive due to resting bitch face and voice, LOL.

DINOSAURS ; You are an excitable individual, whether that means being angry easily, or hyper easily. You tend to be younger in age, or at least younger in mind, having an innocent heart and somewhat ferocious ambitions. You are strong and untamable when it comes to authority figures bossing you around. Most of the time there's no changing your mind if it's set, and you can be very stubborn, pushy, and audacious at your worst, and at your best; proud, confident, encouraging and passionate!

SKULLDOGS & OTHER SKULLIES ; Similar to phoenixes and cruxes, they tend to attract emo, goth, punk, or scene people, however rarely a bubbly girly person will roleplay one, and usually do it with pastel colours instead of dark. They tend to be somewhat reclusive, but yet enjoy people's company when forced to interact. They are people who don't really give a shit much in most circumstances, but when something gets them stirred up, it gets them up and going quickly. They can be somewhat cold and harsh to those who don't know them well, who know that it's all a façade of intimidation, to drive you away from getting closer to them.

FOLVES & OTHER HYBRIDS ; Similar to foxes, you're an excitable hyper furball that will jump around the room, and meet as many friends, and talk to as many people as you can! You guys seem to have none of the reclusive types of personality traits that foxes usually have, and instead seem to be very pack-bonded people! You love finding lucky things, like a clock or license plate that has triple numbers, or picking up a lucky penny off the street. The little things in life make you very happy.

So what do you think?

Did I get your species correct?

If so, or if not, tell me why in the replies! I will read 'em all.

#furry #furries #furry fandom #the furry fandom #furry species stereotypes #furry stereotypes #furry species #fursona #fursonas #furry oc #furry ocs #furry original character #furry original characters #furry character #furry characters #stereotypes

2 notes · View notes

abalonetea · 3 years ago

Text

Just Keep Breathing: Chapter Two

I was partnered with @the-dot for the @originalfictionbigbang! Thank you for working with me, Dot!

Here is the first chapter! I’ve split the first 10k words between four chapters, and will be posting them all in a masterpost in just a moment!

Summary: It’s the height of storm season and everyone in Hi-Banks, Florida is getting ready for the bad weather. It should be a year like any other - but on the tails of a national pandemic, a new disaster strikes. More than one new disasters. So many disasters that Eddie Carver would like to put some of them back, thanks. He’s just a down on his luck guy living in the local trailer park with his boyfriend. He’s not interested in dealing with the revival of an old murder case - which he knows nothing about, thanks -, the storm season of the century, or…zombies?

Yeah. Absolutely not interested in the zombies.

This black-comedy follows the inner workings of a small town as they band together to survive, and the young man - reckless, mean, angry, written off b the big city folk come to look into a cold case - that might hold all of societies survival in his hands.

Forget about society.Eddie’s only interested in keeping his friends alive.

Chapter Two – The Hunt Shop

The Mason family has owned a bait and tackle shop out on the north edge of Hi Banks for almost a solid four generations. It’s a good twenty minute walk from the trailer park, which isn’t that bad when it’s not also pouring down rain. As it stands, they’re both soaked by the time they hit the long dirt road that winds towards it. The sides are pitted out from constant tire tracks, turned into thick puddles of standing water and mud.

The rain lets up to a light drizzle, but it’s too late for that to be helpful. Eddie makes a point of splashing his feet in as many of the puddles as he can.

Carson’s the one who calls out, “truck,” when twin headlights appear in the distance. It’s got a massive dent on the passenger side and the fender looks like it’s held on with duck tape.

Lincoln Wiltshire, the deputy, pulls over. He’s a tall, skinny man with a hooked nose and a scar on the side of his neck. Every time he’s asked, Lincoln tells a different story about how he got that scar. Eddie’s pretty sure it’s something mundane and stupid, like a fishing accident.

“You boys having trouble?” Lincoln asks, rolling down his window and half leaning out it.

“Truck still won’t run,” says Carson. “We’re stuck hoofing it everywhere.”

“And the power’s out at the trailer park,” adds Eddie.

“Shit, already? I was hoping it might stay on a while longer.” Lincoln scratches at his side burns. “Wonder if it’s out where I live, too.”

“Store had power last time I was there,” says Eddie. There’s no need to specify. Everyone just calls it The Store.

Carson asks, “you coming from Red’s?”

“Was getting some more shells.” Lincoln gestures at the brown paper bag in his passenger seat. “I wouldn’t hold my breath on anything with him today, boys. He’s in a rotten mood.”

“Eh, we’ll take the risk. I want something hot to eat tonight, you know?” Eddie says “Shit. You think he might have some of that soup still?”

“Maybe,” says Carson. And then, to Lincoln, “can you do me a favor? I was only at the docks for like an hour earlier, but Clancy didn’t show up.”

Lincoln frowns. “Now that ain’t like him.”

“No, it’s not. He’s always there, doesn’t matter the weather,” says Carson. “Figure maybe you could swing by his place, see if he’s...I dunno. Gotten into something.”

“Sure, sure, I’ll do that before I go home. Thanks for the heads up, Carson. You two stay out of trouble now, you hear me? I don’t want to get any calls out there.”

“That wasn’t our fault!”

“I don’t care who starts the fight, I’m the one that has to pull pants on to come finish it. I’m looking to not leave the house again tonight, so. Behave.” Lincoln jabs a bony finger at them.

Carson rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”

Eddie parrots, “yeah, man, whatever.”

“Maggots, the both of you,” huffs Lincoln, but he makes sure to pull away slowly so as not to splash them in muck.

They get about ten steps before Eddie asks, “so, uh, you worried about him?”

“I mean, yeah. Sort of.”

“Ain’t he a jerk?”

“Sure. But like, not all the time. And it’s weird. He’s always at the docks. Like, I’ve NEVER not seen him at the docks, Eddie. I dunno. I’ve just got a bad feeling about this.” Carson shrugs.

Maybe it makes Eddie a worse person, but he’s not too concerned about Clancy one way or the other. The guy has a mean streak the size of the Grand Canyon, and a habit for acting like he’s the boss down at the docks. He’s not, clearly, but the guy has been working there forever at this point, so everyone mostly just ignores it.

Silence falls over them. The sloshing of Eddie’s boots is the only thing between them, until the shoddy looking wood building of The Hunt Shop comes into view. There’s a massive concrete raccoon statue out front. It gets decorated every time a holiday comes around. Right now, it’s got a massive yellow tarp wrapped around it in lieu of a rain coat.

The front door is propped open, the heavy twanging bass of the radio thudding out. Eddie ducks in first, glancing around.

For the most part, the hunt shop hasn’t really changed in...well, ever. There’s an old singing bass above the gun rack, and a mounted deer head on the wall just behind the front counter. Red is stretched out on a chair behind it, booted foot flung up onto the counter next to the register and an open can of beer.

“Lincoln was right,” says Eddie. “You look pissy.”

“Ey, if it ain’t my favorite scarecrow.” Red thunks his boot back down onto the floor. “Lemme guess, the power’s out.”

Eddie finger snaps at him. “Bingo!”

Carson stomps in just behind him. “Cat broke our damn window.”

“A cat?” Red snorts. “You know, I think you might have worse luck than I do.”

Eddie hops up onto the counter, next to the register. He helps himself to the open, half-warm beer. “Lincoln says you’re in a pissy mood. What’s up?”

“Ugh. This damned weather,” says Red. He uses his foot to push the wheeled chair away from the counter, and then spin around so he can slap a hand against the calendar hanging up behind him. “Look at this. I’ve got two days, and then I’m supposed to be going on my hunting trip.”

“Damn, is it that time already?” Eddie passes the mostly empty can to Carson.

Carson rolls his eyes. “Thanks.” And then, “isn’t that storm supposed to hit this weekend?”

“I’m thinking about just hunkering down out there,” says Red.

“That’s stupid,” says Eddie.

Red slaps the calendar again. “I’ve never missed a trip. I’m not gonna let it get passed over because of some rain. It’s, what, a cat two? I’ve spent worse storms out on the swamp. I figure there’s no power out there anyway, so what would I be missing?”

“The sun,” says Eddie.

At the same time, Carson says, “the hunting.”

Red scowls at them both. “Neither of you know the meaning of the word fun, you know that? I swear, I don’t know when you guys got so boring.”

“Around the same time we started dying from hunger,” quips Eddie.

“Fine, fine, we’ll go get something to eat. C’mon. I was gonna close up anyway.” Red hauls himself out of the chair and around the counter. He leads the way out of the shop – Carson closing the door behind them when he brings up the tail – and around to the back of the building where his camper’s parked.

The radio is already on inside, a woman’s voice, “and as if the predicted overly active storm season isn’t enough, we’re having more and more cases of this unknown virus showing up. We actually have managed to get an interview with Charlie Santero, the governor of Florida, where we get his personal thoughts on the situation.”

“Ugh, shut that off. I hate that guy,” says Red.

Eddie slaps the radio off. “So, food?”

“Chili,” answers Red. He grabs a bowl out of the fridge and shoves it into the microwave.

“Gross,” says Carson.

Red flips him off. “You’re the ones that came over.”

The microwave beeps. Red pulls it out and tosses it onto the little table on the other side of the kitchenette. He grabs three spoons and drops them down, too.

“Alright. Dinner’s served.”

* * *

It’s dark by the time they leave Red’s, all three of them loading up into Red’s old wood backed pickup. They roll the windows down, letting the stiff Florida air into cab.

Eddie sits on the far end, arm flung out so the mosquitoes slap into it as they rush past. “So, think we’re gonna get hit bad this summer?”

Red groans. “Do we have to talk about the storms? I’m trying to think happy thoughts about this week.”

Carson says, “I’ll check up on the shop for you.”

The tires catch in one of the ruts, splashing mud up onto Eddie’s hand. “Gross.” He pulls it in, wiping his palm off on his shorts. “I’m thinking it’s gonna be a small one. Just because it’s always small when the people on the radio talk about it. They’re always wrong and stuff.”

Red whacks the back of one hand against Carson’s shoulder. “Smack him for me, will ya? You’re gonna jinx my trip if you keep talking like that, scarecrow.”

Carson shoves at the back of Eddie’s head, pushing hair into his face. “Don’t jinx him.”

“Ow!” Eddie rubs over dramatically at the back of his head. “Fine, fine, I won’t – hey, knock it off already!”

They pull all the way through town towards the trailer park and are almost at the chain link fence around the place when the flash of red and blue lights come into view. Red cuts the engine. “Alright, nope. I’m checking out. Whatever you two did - “

“We didn’t do nothing,” says Eddie, the words a low sort of whine. “I’m telling you!”

“Looks like you did something,” says Red. “And I’m not interested in being involved. Sorry.”

Carson grunts, giving Eddie the stink eye.

Eddie shakes his head. “I didn’t. I’ve stayed outta trouble and you know it, man. I’ve got – fuck, nothing on me right now.”

“Whatever,” says Carson, slinging open the door. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Red doesn’t have a record, per say, but he likes to steer clear of the local officers all the same. The moment that Eddie and Carson are out of the truck, it peels into reverse and vanishes, a squeal of tires on the pitted pavement and a spray of muddy water up onto the other side of the road.

Carson says, “you’d tell me if I’m about to walk into something, right?”

“Yeah, man, I’d tell you,” says Eddie. “But I swear, this has nothing to do with me.”

“Ugh,” says Carson, and Eddie totally agrees with that. They head up into the trailer park and true to their luck, the sheriff’s car is parked right outside of their little hovel, along with a little shiny black car that doesn’t seem to fit in with the rest of Hi Banks.

Sheriff Bianca is sitting on the hood of her car smoking a hand rolled cigarette, short black hair pushed away from her face, the thick scar over her cheek visible even in the wane light of the street lamp. “There you are. We were waiting for you. This is - “

“Agent Smith,” says another woman, long blonde hair pulled back away from her face and an ashy pallor to her skin. “and my partner, Agent Russo.”

“We didn’t do shit,” says Eddie, lower lip jutting out.

Carson shoves him. “Idiot. Stop running your mouth.”

The corners of Bianca’s mouth twist up at the edges, just a little bit, and then instantly take on that hard slant again. She slides off the car, putting the cigarette out on the bottom of one mud caked boot and then tucking it into the front pocket of her uniform shirt. “Boys, they’re here about the Mulborne Case.”

There’s a beat of silence.

One.

Two.

Three.

Eddie lets out a bark of laughter, just can’t help himself. “What, really?”

Smith asks, “does that mean you know the man?”

“Of course I do. Everyone knows Benny,” says Eddie, with a shrug of his sharp, bony shoulders. “Ain’t this thing solved?”

“Yes,” says Bianca, a little tersely.

“On a local level,” answers Russo. “But we’ve recently been informed of something that’s brought the case into a larger light.”

Carson squints. “You two aren’t cops.”

“We’re with the FBI,” says Smith.

Eddie snorts. “Bullshit.”

That takes Smith off guard. “Excuse me?”

“The FBI out in Hi Banks? Yeah, I don’t buy it,” says Eddie. “This town’s barely on the map. What the Hell would send you people out here, huh?”

“We’re not allowed to discuss that information while the case is still under investigation,” says Russo. “You’re - “

“Eddie, yeah, and he’s Carson, and I’m sure the sheriff’s gone over all’a this with you. You realize how late it is? Some of us actually have to work,” says Eddie.

Smith gives him a tight lipped smile. “I’m sorry about the time. We got a little turned around on the way out here.”

“Not my problem,” says Eddie.

Russo says, “it might be. It’s been brought to our attention that you had contact with the men who were murdered.”

“They went missing,” corrects Bianca. “There was no proof of foul play.”

Eddie juts out his lower lip. “Yeah, sure. I fixed up their van when they came through, big fucking whoop. How about I just make this real easy and tell you exactly what I told her?” He jerks a thumb at Bianca, who rolls her eyes. “Their van was trashed. I fixed it. That’s my job, okay? That’s it. They paid in cash, big bills, and then they left and I never saw them again. End of story.”

Carson says, “you should try and find someone smarter to ask about it.” He slings an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and hauls the other man up against his side. “Eddie’s got a brick for brains. Even if something weird was going on, there’s no way he would’ve noticed it.”

“Bitch,” mutters Eddie, but he doesn’t protest. Easy out’s, right?

A phone goes off, some lame shrill tone. Russo excuses himself and steps away from the group and Bianca asks, “did you figure out where the machinery went?”

Carson grunts. “Probably Milo hawked it. Pretty sure his ma’s rent was due this month. We didn’t really look that hard.”

Smith questions, “machinery?”

“Carson works at the docks,” says Bianca. “A few parts went missing earlier this week.”

“Not that it’s any of your business,” says Carson, gruffly. “Look, no offense but we’ve already done this once. We don’t know anything else about it, and I’ve got work tomorrow. Can we wrap this up?”

A car door clicks open behind them. Russo, still on the phone, waves Smith over. Smith nods and then excuses herself, all polite, “thank you for your time. I’m sure we’ll be in touch,” before heading over. They climb in their little black car and leave.

Carson scowls at Bianca. “Seriously?”

“Trust me,” says Bianca, dryly. “It’s not my idea of a good time, either. I thought that we were done with this.”

Eddie snorts, already heading towards their trailer. “Yeah, fuck off about that. I am done with it.”

He’s pretty pleased when Carson just goes on and follows him, not so much as a goodbye tossed Bianca’s way.

#wip jkb #my writing #zombies #writeblr #original fiction big bang

2 notes · View notes

dumbwaystodeviate · 4 years ago

Note

Oh, I got one! You know how Connor have puppy eyes? Maybe in a reverse au, Hank deviates because he's faced with his human disaster's secret weapon, aka puppy eyes!

Hank had long since been aware that that dealing with humans, especially in the DPD, would come with many challenges and frustrations. Some were easier to handle, mostly being verbal but with no deviancy to speak of it was pointless, and some were three raccoons in a trench coat. Like that GV that was more than feral.

It goes without saying that after all of that the android had hoped that his partner wouldn’t be a problem, he was a lieutenant after all. And yet here he was, every other day having to drag Lt. Stern home to make him go to bed or go eat instead of work all the time. He had heard the phrase ‘like herding cats’ and he think this was the closest he’s gotten. He knows for a fact the Captain had tried sending him home many times, and he was baffled as to how it didn’t work.

This week seemed to be one of the worse ones, prompting Hank to just bring the man a healthy lunch instead of dragging him out of his seat. Honestly he thought it better anyway. When did he become a sitter?

“Lieutenant, you should eat. It won’t do you any good if you don’t.” His voice was followed by the thump of a plastic container on the human’s desk, having had the foresight to make make something in advanced.

For the moment, Connor ignored him, typing away at his terminal like the world didn’t exist and it wasn’t coming back until he finished. But his quite focus was broken by the sight of plastic fingers on his monitor.

“If you do not eat, I will be forced to disable this until you do.” Hank was not putting up with Connor’s shit.

It earned him a glare, Connor possibly thinking he can intimidate Hank off to let him work as he tried to push the container back to the HK. “I can eat later, I got another five files to get through.”

He didn’t get it moved far before the androids bear paw of a hand stopped him, pushing it back in front of him. “Eat. Work is going nowhere. However it will be if inaccessible you don’t.”

The Lieutenant seemed to realise he wasn’t going to win this, sighing as he scooted back his seat and took the box to eat. Not before throwing another glare at Hank for it though. Whatever, the HK knew damn well he was helping.

The week of over working was coming to a head when, during a drive back to Connor’s home, the idiot human nearly fell asleep at the wheel. Hank might not have been so worried if the twink didn’t have a love of a old manual car, which made the whole thing a pump stopper. Thankfully they made it in one piece and the HK manages to get the man inside.

Then Connor went to try and work. Again. He didn’t manage to get very far before Hank all but snatched the tablet and laptop up, putting them up as high as he could. Which the human cursed loudly about because it was NOT fair that Hank was that tall and could do that.

“No more work. You need food and rest.” He could see Connor about to protest, cutting him off with a hard glare. “If you try I will be forced to disable them.”

“I know how to reboot a-”

“And I will have Collin help me do it.” The Android knew damn well what was on his human’s laptop, his brother getting it would be a disaster and the thought of that alone was enough to shut him up.

Hank didn’t care for being so hard on the man but it was a necessary evil.

He knew he had won when Connor sighed, flopping down on the couch. “Can I at least have my fire noodles for dinner?”

“Lieutenant, you need something substantial. You can’t live off of instant noodles.” It wasn’t the first time he had this argument, Connor really did have a habit of eating poorly.

Unlike all other times, however, Connor didn’t glare at him. In fact he seemed thoughtful. It was odd, Hank had expected more of a fight from him about his favorite food but he got nothing. Perhaps he was getting it through his thick head.

And then he crawled up on the couch, perching over the chair arm as he leaned up as far as he could go. Close enough that Hank could see the glow of his yellow led reflect off them big brown deer eyes he was caught in. “Please, Hank? It’s my favorite and it makes me very happy and warm.”

Good god the man was the of begging puppy. Eyes he almost only ever saw glaring as wide as can be, the little pout just barely sticking out. The HK heard from Niles that Connor had a ‘wicked puppy face’ but this was a bit much. He almost felt bad, no scratch that he did feel bad. He looked so sad at the thought of not being able to have the spicy food, and the android couldn’t bring himself to look away.

Logically, as dictated by his coding to keep the man healthy for work, he knew he should tell the human to shove it and make something good to eat. On the other hand as he looked through a haze of red he just couldn’t bring himself to make the human upset, not like this.

Resolve breaking like the fickle coding he figured what could it hurt? Connor had been working so hard all week and deserved something nice. Shoulders slumping, his led spun back to blue. “Fine, but just for tonight. But you have to actually eat proper in the morning, got it?”

Maybe it would be ok this time, and the big brown eyes of the happy puppy of a human were worth it.

#Dbh Hank #Dbh Connor #dumb ways to deviate #prompt fill #ninegeddon #It's getting hard to be creative #Lmao my brain is a truck engine on fire 24 7

82 notes · View notes

latestageyouth · 5 years ago

Text

When you walk away (nothing more to say)

Chapter 1 - The new kid

Trigger warnings: uhhh selective mutism?, swearing, sympathetic Deceit and Remus

word count: somewhere around 3,000

Author's note: do not hold me responsible for any cringiness, I've written this a long time ago

As soon as the bell rang Roman put his books in the bag and was out the door.

"Remember to submit your essay on Thursday!" Mrs. Harrison said just in time for Roman to hear before he headed to his locker. There, he already saw Patton.

"Hey, Pat! Long time no see!" he waved to his friend and began to unlock his locker.

Patton looked at him with a confused smile, "We talked to each other an hour ago," he put his math textbook into his locker before closing it and hugging Roman.

"An hour too long," the other laughed. Roman opened his eyes to see Logan approaching them, "Hey, specs, finally decided to join us?"

At the mention of Logan, Patton spun around and hugged the other too, "Hey Lo!" Roman could practically see Logan tense under the touch, but he didn't pull back.

"Nice to see you too, Patton," after the said boy freed his from his embrace, Logan adjusted his glasses on his face, "So, shall we go eat? I haven't eaten anything all day, so I would appreciate if we could go to the cafeteria now," the other two nodded and headed down the hallway, Patton scolding Logan about how skipping meals isn't healthy.

The cafeteria food was awful, like always, but Logan didn't seem to mind. Well, not as much as the other two. Roman and Patton didn't get any food, Logan and Patton bickering about hypocrisy and food habits, Roman didn't pay attention, too busy scrolling Instagram to care. What pulled him to reality was an exaggerated cough. The cough also happened to stop Logan and Patton, all of them looking up to the source of the sound.

Patton smiled at the tall stranger in front of them holding a lunch tray, "Can I help you?" the stranger gestured at himself and then at a chair at their table. Patton furrowed his eyebrows, but the smile didn't leave his face, "I'm sorry, I don't understand? Maybe use your words?" the stranger's eyebrows shot up as if he was saying something passive-aggressive, then pointed at himself and then at the chair, but this time more firmly. Patton looked between Roman and Logan, "I am really sorry, I-"

"He's asking if he can sit with you, dumbass," a voice came a few tables from their own. All four of them looked in the direction of the speaker, which the three recognized as Damon, the gossip of the school, "And before you say anything, you can sit with us, people who actually understand that maybe you can't speak," he turned to look at Patton with a plastic smile, which Roman knew he was doing on purpose.

Roman rolled his eyes, "Wow, so thoughtful. Last time I checked, you were the one making bets on which one of the choir will lose their voice first due to the intense training."

"Actually, that was me," said the other man sitting at the table with Damon, smiling like he was proud of himself.

Roman pinched the bridge of his nose, "That's even worse."

The stranger looked between the two tables, before walking over to the one where Damon and the other man sat. Roman scoffed, Logan squinted his eyes at the action, as if questioning the other's sanity, and Patton pouted about losing a potential friend, but soon the three got talking about biology homework that was due today, Roman begging Logan to let him copy it.

While that was happening, the stranger sat down next to the unnamed man, who was now smiling at him, "So why can't you speak?"

"Goddamnit Remus, you can't just ask people why they don't speak. Excuse him, I'm Damon," Damon laid a hand on his chest, "So, you're mute?"

The stranger shook his head.

Damon paused, "So you just don't speak?" the stranger shook his head again and pulled out a pen. He pointed at the notebook that Damon had on the table next to his textbook. Damon slid it to him. The stranger turned to the last page and tore it out as neatly as possible, then began writing on it. After he was done he turned it so the other two could see 'I have selective mutism, do you know what that is?'

"Oh, yeah," Remus exclaimed said, "Isn't that how people have an extreme phobia of speaking in public so much they, like, can't? I think I heard about that."

The unnamed man nodded, then began writing again: 'I can only speak to my uncle. He's a counsellor at this school, do you know him? Also, my name's Virgil'

Damon smirked, "Nice to meet you, Virgil. Yeah, we were both sent to Picani a few times obligatorily, like after Remus got into a fight with a teacher, or after I pierced my tongue in the school bathroom..." and Virgil just wondered what he had got himself into, "Do you call him Picani or Emile?" Virgil raised up two of his fingers, "Emile?" Damon concluded. Virgil nodded.

Remus chuckled, "That's so weird. You two look nothing alike. You don't even have the same eye colour."

Virgil shrugged, writing on the paper once more: 'lmao, yeah, a lot of people tell me that :D'

"I never saw you at the school, did you transfer here?" Damon tilted his head. This sentence took a little longer to write: 'I moved here after my mom lost custody of me (haha finally...) This is actually my first day here. Before, I went to a school in Jacksonville.'

"Oh my god, I've never been there! Is it true that they eat raccoons in there?" Virgil looked at Remus and slowly shook his head. At that, Remus let out a sad sound.

"What about your father?"

Virgil scrunched his shoulders and looked away.

"It's okay," Damon dismissively waved his arm, "I don't know who my dad is, so I understand if you don't wanna talk about him."

Virgil gave him a warm smile and moved his hand to his lips and down and away, and if Damon didn't know any better, he would've thought he was blowing him a kiss. The problem was, Damon didn't know any better. Virgil must've seen the confusion on his and Remus' face, as he wrote down something again: 'That means thank you in asl. Do u know sign language?"

Damon and Remus shook their heads.

'Do you wanna teach it?'

"Hell yeah!" Remus shouted loud enough so that the few tables, including the one with his brother, turned to look at them.

Damon scoffed, "Of course not, why would I wanna add to my list of skills and make it easier for more people to communicate with me? Such a waste of time.."

Virgil smiled at him and let out a chuckle. Damon reached over and took the piece of paper and pen, then began writing on it. Virgil furrowed his eyebrows, which shot up his forehead when he was handed the paper and pen back.

"That's my number," Damon pointed at it.

Virgil flinched when his arm was pulled away, his sleeve being pushed up, only to have a pen pressed to it, "Aaand this is my number" Remus added a heart to it. He also tried to draw a dick on his arm but Virgil yanked his arm away and smudged the drawing out of existence.

Virgil signed 'thanks' again, only this time the couple actually smiled at him.

"We're having a movie night tonight, you wanna come?" Remus supported his head by putting his hand on his cheek, pushing it up slightly, "You gotta walk with us to my house though, gotta get there before they do," Remus looked at the table where Patton was pinching Logan's cheeks while Roman was recording the whole thing with his phone. Virgil contemplated it for a second. On one side, he met these people like 15 minutes ago. On the other side, he really needed to make some friends. Larger groups mean fewer bullies. Virgil nodded, "Great! I can't wait to piss them off!" it didn't sound sarcastic at all.

"What do you have next? Like as a period," Virgil took out his lesson plan, handing it to Damon, "Oh, we have the same class. Ms. Watson is the best teacher ever."

"She's a pain in the ass. A total drag. Everyone on this planet hates her," Remus exaggerated every insult with stabbing the table with the plastic fork, ultimately breaking it.

Damon nodded, "Yeah, basically."

The bell ripped through the cafeteria, some of the students, including Remus, flinching at the sound.

Remus began to walk away, "Well, girls, I'll see you later," he winked at them. Or at least they thought it was a wink, it looked more like a spasm. The two of them walked to the biology classroom together, Damon explaining how Virgil should just lay low and not cause trouble when it comes to Ms. Watson, or she'll blame you for third-degree murder. Virgil wasn't really sure if that was an exaggeration.

The classroom was a mess. Not in a literal sense, the class itself was pretty clean, but people were sitting and laying on tables, some we carving something into the chairs, other's sticking gum to the tables. Only one of the students waited by the door. Oliver, he was told. He watches for when the teacher comes. Speaking of the teacher, Oliver had turned away from the hallway and to his classmates, "She's coming! The fury is coming!"

Immediately, all the pupils were in their seats, no gum being chewed, no chairs being carved. They were all quiet when the teacher came in. She didn't say a word, closing the door after her and going straight to the attendance book. She furrowed her eyebrows after scanning down the page for a while.

"Virgil Blake?"

Virgil stood up, all of the eyes burning into him.

"You're new?" she raised an eyebrow.

Virgil nodded.

She closed the book, nodding slowly, "Do you have all the textbooks?"

Virgil nodded again.

She turned to the blackboard, "So, last week we talked about the cell structure of fungi. Today's lesson we will be..."

Virgil had sat down by that point, trying to focus on the lecture. That plan fell short as something hit the back of his neck, ending up in the hood of his hoodie. He reached behind, looking at the folded paper. He quietly tried to unwrap it, Damon already gaping at it before he even unwrapped it.

It was a drawing, a bad one at that. There was a cow with a plaid skirt and a black denim vest with a popped collar, similar to what Damon wore. There were also yellow circles scribbled over each other, which Virgil assumed was his hair. On the side was written 'COW' in capital letters. Virgil looked at Damon, who had pulled back to his chair and crossed his arms, looking at the floor next to him. Virgil quickly crunched up the paper and put it in his binder, the first thing he could think of to get it out of sight. Then he took a pen in his hand and began to write on his hand, eventually tapping Damon's shoulder and showing him the arm: 'I think you look really cool :)'

Damon chuckled sadly, looking up at Virgil, who smiled back. Damon put a hand to his lips and then away, mimicking the sign Virgil had taught him.

The heartfelt moment was interrupted by the deafening school bell, announcing the lesson was over, "Alright ya' little punks, the lesson is over, get ya' asses outta my classroom."

"Don't have to say that twice," Damon mumbled so quietly that even Virgil had to strain his ears to hear it. He had to resist the urge to burst into a fit of giggles. The rest of the day went as normal as it could, the three of them meeting in the hallway in-between lessons. Finally, the last bell rang and most of the class scrambled for the exit, including Patton and Virgil, who crashed into each other.

"Oh, sorry, didn't see ya there," Patton smiled up at Virgil, who had put his hands into a defensive manner and smiled tensely. Before Patton could say anything, Virgil was already being dragged away by Remus, who rembled about how they're gonna be there second and what not.

"Seriously, Roman is a fucking fast walker, we better hurry the fuck up," Damon had now joined the club, being dagged by Remus out of the building before any of them could protest.

"Oh, Virgil, here you are!" the three looked at the cheery voice, Remus not bothering to stop, so Virgil had to forcefully grab Remus by the back of his leather jacket, ultimately stopping him. His uncle, Emile, looked tensely between the three, "Already making friends I see?" Virgil nodded. He let go of Remus in favour of signing something that was beyond Damon's and Remus' knowledge, but Mr. Picani seemed to understand perfectly, "Why of course, just let me know if you need me to pick you up."

Virgil rolled his eyes and signed something shorter but still complicated. Mr. Picani seemed to tense up, "Are you sure?" he glanced between the two of them, then turned back to Virgil and spoke back, this time using sigh language. Virgil scoffed, signing back in a snappy manner, but then his expression relaxed. Mr. Picani nodded, "Alright then, I trust you. Just be sure to call me if you decide to stay the night," he hugged Virgil, who tried to scramble back and away from his uncle. Finally, Picani pulled back and Virgil stumbled a few steps back. Remus couldn't hold back a giggle. Virgil glared at him in exchange, signing something to Mr. Picani before he went to his car.

The three continued walking to Remus' house, which was not far from the school. Virgil noticed the chimney had smoke in it, smelling sweet. Remus reached under the welcome mat and pulled out a key, unlocking the door, "Ma, I'm home!"

"Hey, Remus, could you be an absolute sweetheart and go to the basement for more flour?" a short plum woman peeked out from the kitchen, "Hey Damon!"

"Hey, Ms. Addington."

Ms. Addington looked over at the other boy, "And who are you?" she smiled in a sweet way that makes teeth rot.

"That's Virgil," Damon gestured to him.

"Nice to meet you, are you new here?"

"He can't speak."

"Oh, my apologies then," she still smiled at him. She reminded him of uncle Emile in a way. She had this calm, cheerful atmosphere around her, he was sure they would get along well.

"Bad news, no flour to be found," Remus came out of the basement.

"Ah, fucking shit, what did I make all this shit for then?" she gestured at something on the counter that Virgil couldn't see. Wow, they would definitely not get along. For fuck's sake, uncle Emile had a swear jar.

"The hell do I know, you always try to be innovative," Remus answered, clearly unphased. He moved over to the living room, opening the tv stand where a bunch of DVDs were stacked on each other, "Alrighty, ladies, the selection for this movie night is: Nightmare on the elm street, The Black Cauldron, The Purge 2 ooooor," he reached into the back, "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre."

Damon plopped down onto the couch, "Purge 2, a classic."

Virgil was sitting on the other side, nodding his head in agreement.

Remus opened the DVD player, "Chainsaw massacre it is then,"

"Hell no! We watched that last time and I fucking threw up! I am not doing that again!" Damon seemed livid, and Virgil kicked Remus in the back to state his disagreement.

"Fine, fine, Purge 2, but first, popcorn," Remus got up and went to the kitchen, then Damon walked upstairs to get blankets. So Vigil waited, looking over the DVD collection they had. There were all kinds of movies, from Sleeping Beauty to The Godfather, it really was quite a lot. Virgil heard the door open, looking at the figures stepping in.

"And then I was like, 'You really are', and then she-Hey, what the hell are you doing here?!" Roman looked panicked for a brief second before Remus ran into the living room loudly announcing that the popcorn is done, and Damon went down with 3 tons worth of blankets on his back. They had all settled down on the couch, Remus laying across both of their laps with his face in his hands.

"We're watching The Puuuurge tonight!" he said in a sing-songy voice.

Roman scoffed, "No, we're not! We're watching Lion King!"

"Mom! Roman is trying to establish dominance over the DVDs again!"

A quiet sigh could be heard from the kitchen, "For the last time, Remus, I don't even know what that means. Roman, Remus was here first, and you already had a movie night yesterday, let him have it."

Virgil never thought he would see someone look so betrayed, "But-" Ms. Addington walked into the living room, tsk-ing Roman.

"You forced us to watch Bambi three movie nights in a row, we're going to watch The Purge. You and your friends can go upstairs like Remus did if you don't like it," she waved stirring spoon in front of his face like a knife.

Finally, Roman gave in, as he sat down onto the floor and crossed his arms and legs. Logan did too, but Patton said he'd rather not watch it and went home.

It was about halfway through the movie that Roman went to his room because he was tired. Then, Ms. Addington, Natalie, as Virgil had learned, fell asleep in her chair. Next was Logan to go, who got too tired from analyzing all the inconsistencies and bickering with Remus. Now, it was only the three that remained, Remus usually shouting words of encouragement for the killers or telling the other two better and more effective methods of killing someone. He was splayed over Damons and Virgil's legs, lying on his stomach. He eventually went out too, snoring slightly and drooling on Virgil's pants, which he found both disgusting and incredibly funny. Damon and Virgil sat in silence, eating what was left of the popcorn. Damon didn't last until the credits. He didn't get to see that the main character didn't actually kill the guy he was after, which Virgil thought was a shame. So there he was, surrounded by a pile of sleeping bodies and it was getting close to midnight. He tried to reach for his phone, but as it was in his back pocket, it was no use. He finally fell asleep at 1 am, shortly after Damon shifted in his sleep and collapsed against him, leaving Virgil with no chance to move.

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #patton sanders #logan sanders #anxceitmus #slow burn #sanders side fic #when you walk away (nothing more to say)#<---that's what i'm gonna tag the chapters as

62 notes · View notes

loveforpreserumsteve · 4 years ago

Text

Not Without You (Canon Divergence Stucky Fix-It-Fic)

Eight:

So, there was a change of plans. At first, Steve was sure that the compound was the best place. Where they could call some of the others who were off-planet and come up with a plan. Only, when Scott started theorizing about a possible time machine did Steve understand where they really needed to go.

Even if Steve did feel bad about bothering him at home.

With a blue Iron Man helmet in one hand and Morgan in the other, Tony paused on his way to the cabin when he spotted the van. A curious look was on his face before Steve opened the door. Really, Tony should've realized who it was considering he parked next to Natasha's black Audi, and only a select few knew where thee Tony Stark and Pepper Potts settled down.

"Uncle Steve!" Morgan cheerfully greeted, wiggling out from Tony's grasp as she raced over to him.

"Hey, Bug," Steve smiled, effortlessly lifting the little girl into his arms. Hugging her close as he looked past her to her father and asked, "Nat update you?"

"Yeah," Tony confirmed, displeased as he crossed his arms and briefly glanced down at the ground. Returning his attention when he heard the Langs climbing out of the van, he admitted, "When she told me who you were with, I thought you'd finally lost it."

As Morgan pet Steve's scruffy beard, Steve took her hand in his and playfully blew a raspberry to her palm before he conceded, "I thought I lost it too. This is Scott and his daughter, Cassie."

Kindly, Tony grinned and waved for the trio to follow him up the porch steps, "C'mon. Maguna and I were just about to have some lunch." Teasingly, he looked back at his daughter and joked, "A handful of crickets on a bed of lettuce."

On Steve's hip, Morgan exaggerated a look of disgust by scrunching her tiny face, and giggled when Steve mimicked her as he affectionately touched his forehead to hers. All the while, Cassie mocked, "Rich people eat the weirdest things."

Glancing over at her, Steve grinned and winked. Having grown fond of the teen within the last two and a half days, Steve even decided to drape his arm around her shoulders. Giving her a familial squeeze before dropping his arm, he gave Morgan's cheek a kiss then set her down.

"Wasn't expecting you until later," Nat greeted Steve, arms crossed along her chest and her longer hair braided behind her.

"Mr. Leadfoot here sped the entire way," Cassie answered, almost bashfully as she stared at Natasha in awe. Of course, knowing Natasha, he knew that it wasn't uncommon for people to be stunned by meeting Black Widow in the flesh.

"Captain Noble? Breaking a law?" Tony feigned skeptically as he lingered by the door. Peeking inside, he asked, "Food? Something to drink?"

"Sure," Cassie easily agreed, taking a seat on the outdoor furniture.

"That's really nice," Scott smiled, joining his daughter.

"Would you like some help?" Steve asked, lingering by the door along with Tony.

Tony smirked, "You're the one who will need help if you don't come say hi to Pepper, first."

Steve nodded and followed the shorter man into the house. Nonchalantly, Pepper was sitting comfortably on the sofa, reading. Steve was always pleasantly surprised with how easy the Stark-Potts lives had gotten since stepping away from avenging. Of course, Steve imagined that if Bucky had survived, they would've also settled down in a cabin that Steve built.

"Here's our favorite lumberjack," Pepper greeted with a warm smile as she bookmarked the novel. Gazing up at a disheveled Steve, she commented, "Long time, no see."

Heat spread across the apples of his cheeks, and Steve scratched at the back of his neck as he apologized, "Sorry, Pep. You know I was on a… mission."

"No need to apologize, big guy," Tony surprisingly assured, patting Steve's broad shoulder on his way to the kitchen. Pulling down some glasses and a tray, Tony informed, "Everyone deserves a year of self-discovery. Or five."

A smile tugged at his lips as he looked down at his boots. Although they all knew Steve wasn't searching for himself, Steve liked the sound of that better than what it really was. Especially with how pathetic the truth made him appear. Pity even colored Pepper's expression because she knew it too. Of course, she, herself, had been desperate like Steve once. Okay, more than once, Steve allowed. Tony, after all, did have a habit of narrowly escaping death.

When Steve heard the sound of a blender, he snapped his attention over to Tony. While it had taken a while for Steve to get used to the taste of some of the health shakes that Tony made the team, he'd be lying if he denied that he missed them. He had even bought a blender and tried to make them, but could never get the proportions right.

"Now, get over here and put those muscles to good use," Tony teased, as he poured the blended beverage into a pitcher. Placing it on the tray with the glasses and waiting for Steve to carry it back outside.

Following Tony, and smiling down at Morgan, Steve set the tray on the table. Casually noting how Scott was pacing and Cassie was sitting on the edge of her seat as though she was about to jump up at any minute to either stop her father, or join him. Glancing over at Nat, he could tell that she was figuring out what to do too.

Kneeling, Tony got to eye level with Morgan and suggested, "How 'bout you pick out some pretend clothes for later?"

"Okay!" Morgan quickly agreed, rushing inside of the house.

As he straightened out, Tony crossed his arms and gestured, "Alright, let's hear it."

Nodding to himself, Scott quickly went into relaying the Quantum Realm and how one has to be really, really, really small to get there. Having already heard it the night before, Steve didn't pay too much attention to Scott's explanation of how long it felt versus how long it actually was. Instead of getting his hopes up at the suggestion of time travel -- actual time travel! -- Steve chose to pour himself some of the healthy shake. Catching Cassie's eye, he poured her some too.

"Now, we know what it sounds like," Scott finished, eagerly studying Tony.

"Tony," Natasha started, "After everything you've seen, is anything really impossible?"

"You're telling me this doesn't sound crazy?" Tony questioned, quirking a brow at her.

A smirk played at her lips as she reminded, "I get e-mails from a raccoon, so nothing sounds crazy anymore."

Tony silently agreed with that, still not looking convinced. Especially as he argued, "Quantum fluctuation messes with the Planck Scale. Which then triggers the Deutsch Proposition. Can we agree on that?"

While Tony looked over them, he took their silence as confusion, and he wasn't really that far off. Steve, for one, didn't know what they were talking about. So, Tony reiterated, "In Layman's terms, it means you're not coming home."

"I did," Scott protested.

"No," Tony corrected, "You accidentally survived. It's a billion to one cosmic fluke. And now you wanna pull off a… What do you call it?"

Holding her head held high, Cassie proudly answered, "A time heist."

"Yeah, a time heist," Tony confirmed, his tone softening with the teen. Steve looked down at his shake, not wanting to see the hurt and defeat on his teammate's face from the memory of the teens he lost.

Then, in a moment, Tony's stance and expression hardened. Always choosing aggression whenever hurt, and now was no different as he mocked, "Of course, why didn't we think of this before? Oh, because it's laughable? Because it's a pipedream?"

Cassie's jaw clenched, but she didn't sass. Instead, she kept her focus on her untouched drink and tried to reason, "There are stones in the past. We can go back and get them."

"We can snap our own fingers," Natasha added.

"Bring everyone back," Steve softly tacked on.

"Or," Tony dissented, "Screw it up worse than he already has, right?"

"I don't believe we would," Steve refrained from clenching his jaw. Desperately needing Tony to see the smallest of possibilities. It was the only thing keeping Steve holding on. If this didn't work, he didn't know what he'd do.

Sadly, Tony smiled at Steve as he admitted, "Gotta say, sometimes I miss that giddy optimism. However, high hopes won't help if there's no logical, tangible way for me to safely execute said time heist. I believe the most likely outcome would be our collective demise."

And just like that, Steve could feel the last bits of his heart shatter. Although Steve and Tony didn't always see eye-to-eye, Steve still cared for Tony. Hell, in a different life, he would've been Uncle Steve to him too. Always trying to care for Tony in Howard's memory. But if Tony didn't even think there was a chance…

Lost in his own thoughts, Steve tuned out their bickering. Trying his hardest to not spiral down to that lonely, dark hole he had been in in the beginning. Finishing off his shake, he set the glass down before he could break it. Knowing that Pepper wouldn't be too happy with him if he did so.

Holding onto the porch railing, he saw Morgan race out of the house and climb onto Tony. Gladly, Tony hefted the little girl onto his hip and turned for the house. Steve knew that this couldn't be it.

It just couldn't be.

A little -- okay, a lot -- desperate, Steve grabbed onto Tony's arm. Pleading, "Tony, I get it. And I'm happy for you, I really am. But this is a second chance."

Holding Morgan just a little closer, Tony declined, "I got my second chance right here, Cap. I can't roll the dice again." Then, a little softer, just for Steve, Tony added, "Really, Steve, I'm sorry."

Thickly swallowing, with tears building in his eyes, Steve nodded. Letting his hand drop, just like his heart as Tony walked inside of the cabin and Steve hurried back to the van. Leaning against the vehicle and burying his face in his hands as his breathing started turning to pants.

Cautiously, a hand touched his back and Nat's familiar voice attempted to comfort him, "He's scared."

"He's not wrong," Steve breathed out, peeking over at the petite woman.

Cassie crossed the drive and asked, "What are we gonna do?"

"We need him," Scott sighed defeatedly.

"What, are we gonna stop?" Cassie demanded, looking over the adults in front of her. Wondering if she finally saw the avengers for what they truly were. For what he was.

Natasha kept rubbing Steve's back, bringing him back down. Making it easier for Steve to remember who he's supposed to be. He's Captain America, god damn it! So, he rationalized, "We're gonna need a really big brain."

#not without you #stucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve rogers x bucky barnes #marvel #fanfic #wattpad #ao3 #canon divergence #post infinity war #endgame au #nomad steve #angst #hurt/comfort #fix it fic #otp #eventual happy ending #uncle steve

3 notes · View notes

szopenhauer · 4 years ago

Text

When was the last time you wore your favourite article of clothing? I like most of my clothes

Do your parents smoke? no

Do you live close to a park? forest

Is your favourite animal endangered? raccoons aren’t but elephants are :(

How many pens can you see from where you’re sitting? 6

What language do you think you’d fail at? french and asian ones

Do you still have a landline phone at your house? but we don’t use it

Do you carry pain relievers with you at all times? nope

Where is your mother right now? in the living room with my dad

What was the last thing to make you smile? not sure what was last

What would you do if you got home and you saw your house had been destroyed? omg don’t feed my paranoia :o

Would you slap the last person you talked to for twenty dollars? nah

Do you know anyone who gives way too many hugs? they give as much as they need

What are some positive things, realizations or habits that came out of quarantine for you? long story, it’s complicated

How do you feel about people who are “workaholics”? Would you consider yourself one? I don’t like them, most of them only care about money and not at all about health or loved ones, I’m not ambitious or a workaholic

What could you spend less money on? trinkets

How would you describe yourself as a friend? What value would you say you bring to your friends? it’s up for them to say/judge

In psychology they say that our romantic relationships are an extension of our relationships with our parents, and that we tend to choose our partners based on whatever was lacking in our childhood, or that we are attracted to traumas and sufferings that are familiar to us rather than the unknown. Can you relate to this? umm...

Can you tell when you are not well-liked? What do you do when you feel someone is not particularly fond of you? I’m not surprised, I’m used to the fact ppl don’t like me that I assume they don’t until they tell me, repeteadly, that they actually do (which rarely happens and doesn’t last long), I avoid/ignore those who hate me most

How would you say your preference in movies or TV shows changed from when you were a teenager vs. now? used to watch only movies for kids at first

Apart from price and location, what are some deciding factors when choosing a house for you? smell, bath and balcony mostly

What emotion is the hardest for you to express? how grateful I am if that counts - when it comes to gifts and/or compliments etc.

How do you feel about job interviews? Are you good at negotiation? I do well but I still don’t get a job because of lack of experience; I only failed one interview in my life but I didn’t even want to work there, UP sent me to call center and boss asked me questions about the job I was going to get but they didn’t tell me what it’s about so I didn’t know much and I was in my snow boots (as it was winter) to my elegant clothes so I looked dumb and I forgot that I can’t leave the building on my own as they had special card keys and I tried to open door like crazy until someone saved me - that was awkward...

How many cars have you ever owned? 0

Can you do math in your head well? I need my fingers

What’s your least favorite chore to do around the house? laundry and cooking, not that I like chores in general haha

What’s your favorite flavor of potato chip? salt, also liked becon in the past

Do you ever read the weather forecast? pfft

Do amusement park rides make you sick? I worry they would so I don’t risk it

Have you ever cheated on a test? in high school, especially math, elseway I would fail

Is your next birthday coming up soon? next year

Do you have any bumper stickers on your car? I’d buy some if I had a car but I don’t drive

Do you leave good tips when you eat out at restaurants? I don’t tip, why? we don’t tip postmen and/or nurses etc.

What’s your favorite thing to eat at bbqs? not a BBQ food person

Do you still own any VHS tapes? we still keep ‘em

How many jobs have you had? I tried some jobs but never really had one

If there was a real Jurassic Park, would you visit it? no thx

How many friends do you have that are married? from all of my ex best friends only Ula, Sandra and John are married, Dorota was already divorced when I met her

Did you have a swing set in your yard when you were a child? didn’t trash it, used it this summer

You’re making a fruit salad: what kinds of fruit do you put in it? I don’t eat fruit salads

Do you prefer to drink from glasses or mugs? mugs, glasses are dangerous, I remember them breaking from heat like they were exploding or smth - scary

Is it weird to hear your name in movies or TV shows? it is, when an evil or stupid character has my name it makes me mad

What kind of kid were you when you were seven? very good student, angel, clumsy, naive, wearing “ugly clothes”, the only girl with long hair at the point, petite, wanted other kids to like me so I tried to impress them (but didn’t blindly followed everything they were doing though), not as shy as my mom tought, didn’t know how to tell jokes, still happy but slowly becoming depressed due to family issues, bullying, money and health problems

Is there a subject you know so much about that you’d be able to teach it? sigh... Where did you purchase the computer you’re using right now? Media markt Do you think it’s fair to compare Family Guy to The Simpsons? The Simpsons are better, I dislike Family Guy, wasn’t there an episode where they mixed both of those shows?...

Do you have pockets in anything you are wearing currently? I do not usually

How loudly can you burp? I’m more of a quiet burp/fart person

How many different letters are in your full name? 12

Do you like making bets? occasionally

Have you ever had a ‘falling’ dream? I don’t wake up, I just fall and crash on the floor then I lay there and it hurts

Do you do anything weird in your sleep? possibly

How long are your fingers? my longest finger is 7 cm and my shortest is 4 cm

Do you like bumper cars? whatever

What color is the book nearest to you? dark colors - black, purple, red, grey...

Can you lick your elbow? I can

How old were you when you said your first word? ask my parents

Can you sit the way people sit when they meditate? yep

Do you like the autumn? if it’s not too cold and snowy

Would you rather have a hippo or rhino dropped on you? doesn’t matter but at this point in 2020 I can expect that to happen

Have you ever cried in front of a teacher? in elementary, in high school I cried but she didn’t notice as I tried to hide that - it was one of two moments through all high school that I cried - to było wtedy kiedy Pepe zabrał mój temat na maturę, na który przygotowywałam się od 5 lat i dostałam w zamian jakieś gówno, a drugi raz płakałam bo musiałam zapłacić za brak biletu w autobusie mimo, że go miałam tylko legitymacja szkolna nie była podbita bo akurat wówczas byłam w szpitalu i nikt mnie nie powiadomił, że powinnam to nadrobić i strasznie się zmartwiłam, że nie mam kasy i staram się jak mogę, a i tak coś zawsze się spierdoli (bo czemu ludzie sobie jeżdżą bez biletu serio cały czas, a mimo to “złapali” akurat mnie?), jeszcze musiałam pojechać przystanek dalej przez to jak mnie spisywali i prawie spóźniłam się na zajęcia :(

Have you ever cried BECAUSE of a teacher? who haven’t? srsly

Do you do a :) or a (:? :) (: is creepy

Are paper clips fun to play with? meh

Do you prefer mechanical pencils or regular pencils? regular

Is your alarm clock set right now? good idea :o

Are you itchy right now? slightly which is normal to me

Do you have anything on your wrists? not right now

Why are you so awesome? :) I’m not...

so how are you today? I thought I will feel worse before going to hospital so won’t complain

when was the last time you had a cup of tea? long time ago

who’s the most recent person on your Facebook feed? (if you have it) my annoying sister >.<

when (if ever) was the last time you saw that person? week ago

how do you feel about wolves? great animals

do you use pinterest? started new account this month

should you be doing something else right now? packing but whenever I pick up one thing to put into the bag I get a panic attack

bye :) bye...

1 note · View note

dontdietwd · 5 years ago

Text

Don’t Die, day 20

The sky had only just started to pale in the horizon when I left my tent. I had been asleep for many hours now, nearly passed out. I’d been feeling sick all those days, especially when night came – I surely had night sickness rather than morning sickness – and after throwing up alone in the woods, far from the camp, I’d stumble back to the tent and pass out until the next morning. Last night hadn’t been different. As I left the group that had been reunited around a small fire, not explaining to anyone what I’d do, I walked by Daryl, who was on watch duty just by the edge of the clearing. I gave him a small smile, which he didn’t give back. It was clear to me he knew something was wrong, and I am sure that if he weren’t on his post for a few more hours, he’d have gone after me. I was glad he didn’t. I didn’t want anyone thinking about what was happening to me; I wasn’t ready to tell anybody, to make it real, to admit it to myself. And maybe even more than that, I didn’t want to tell Daryl.

[MORE]

He and Merle were the only people I knew from the old life; the only people who had known me before, seen me young and growing up, who had some kind of history with me, even if a lame one. I didn’t worry about Merle knowing, because even though we could even be called friends now, I still didn’t forget the part he had always had in my life. What we had now didn’t erase the past. When he was present there, next door, he meant trouble. He meant offensive words when I didn’t deserve them – hell, when nobody deserved them! – so I didn’t actually give any a shit about what Merle thought of me. I knew I could deal with him; I had learned how to talk to him in those twenty days of this acquaintance-friendship.

But Daryl – Daryl was different, and I didn’t even know how. He’d never spoken offensive words at me – only eighteen years ago when his teenager version told me to fuck off, but that had been it – and he had always been a presence in my life, in the background, the boy from the other house, the one who’d disappear and resurge again on and on, a constant variable. Daryl was my only constant.

After the dead got up to eat the living, this frail and nearly inexistent relationship had shifted. He was there, I wouldn’t know how to explain it if I had to, but I knew he was there, in the amplest meaning of the word. In those little more than two weeks, Daryl was the one who’d talk quietly to me, look at me to confirm decisions, tell me things with his eyes when he didn’t talk much with words. He was comfortable and, yes I dared to admit, he felt safe. There was something blooming there, I knew it, there was no denying, but ever so slowly, like the way you have to approach a wounded animal because they are just so scared and defensive. That’s the image Daryl reminded me of. I didn’t know much about his life even having been there for so long, but I knew it hadn’t been good, it had made him be as closed up as he was. So whatever was going to happen, if it was going to happen, would have to be slowly, no rush.

So I didn’t want to tell him yet, just not yet, but I knew that when I was ready to tell anyone, it’d have to be him, even fearing he would judge me, look down at me, or worse: pamper me. I didn’t know him well enough yet to foresee which one it would be, but I dreaded any option. So I just kept throwing up out of sight in the woods, sleeping early only because I’d worked a lot all day, pretending nothing was happening.

The camp was quiet as I left the tent area to reach the clearing. Dale was on top of the RV, T-Dog walking around the edge of the clearing – he nodded at me with a little smile for a good-morning – Ed was ahead of the cars on the edge of the road, and Merle on the other side of the clearing, opposite T-Dog. I knew Jim was down on the quarry keeping watch there. This shift of watch was nearly over and the five men would be replaced and would have to eat something before going to sleep. Carol and Miranda were up and about, preparing food for breakfast – I had previously set shifts for that too, where the two were together for the first meal, Lori and Amy for lunch and Morales and I for dinner. He was the only man on these shifts because no other could cook in a satisfactory way.

In a way, slowly and discreetly, I had organized small jobs for everyone in camp. The cooking shifts, a person responsible for never letting the boiled water to run out – Jim – four to keep picking the best twigs and dry leaves they could find so the fire would never die out – the children – and even laundry duties. I had tried to make it fifty-fifty, men and women, but my feminist way of thinking hadn’t been much appreciated, for my dismay. I couldn’t understand the concept that men could to wash their own fucking clothes. The men had turned their noses at the idea, and the women had decided they’d only stand in their way and do it all wrong and they’d have to do it all over again anyway. Defeated, I also excused myself from this duty. I’d never done laundry by hand in my life, I’ve always just had to toss them inside my old washer and that was it. Everybody else who could shoot or use a knife and felt safe facing walkers were on watch duties, which meant almost all of them, but this had been Shane’s responsibility. He organized the weapons, the shifts, the points were each one would be, all the strategy around it. I was glad because this invisible line Shane and I had drawn made things more peaceful and had us knocking heads less every day.

“Morning,” I said quietly as I approached Merle.

“Hey, what’s up, baby face?” he smiled as he threw away the butt of the cigarette he had been smoking.

“All quiet here?”

“Yeah, heard twigs all over the night but was a raccoon or something like it. Gonna get it later.”

“Right, you guys gonna go huntin’ today?”

“Yeah, bring some protein for these assholes.”

“Not gonna rest a little before leaving?”

“Yeah, couple of hours be enough.”

“’Kay,” I nodded. “Hey, go on, I’ll take the watch now.”

“Ya gonna? Thought it was china-boy.”

“Glenn’ll take Dale’s spot.”

Merle handed me the rifle he’d been holding for the past three hours and left, crossing paths with his brother on his way. They just nodded at each other and Daryl approached me, an old metal bowl in hand. I looked at him just as he handed it over.

“Mornin’.”

“Morning… Yeah, I don’t think I’m gonna eat,” I said refusing to take the bowl.

“Ya gotta,” he insisted. “Know you got sick last night. Canned meat balls didn’t agree with ya?”

“Uh, you saw that…” I moaned out instead of an answer.

“Not the first time. You ok?”

“Yeah, no, not sure…” I looked down, kicking the hard ground with the tip of my boot. “Didn’t know my stomach would bitch so much about all this fuckin’ change in eating habits.”

“Gotta get used to it, don’t see it turnin’ back to normal anytime soon,” and with that he tried to hand me the bowl again. I took it this time, reluctantly, still not looking at him. “Ya sure that’s what the problem is? Ya been getting’ sick since the road.”

I looked up then to find his eyes glued on mine, searching for something. He had asked that in a low voice, stepping a little bit closer, head a little lowered to get almost in level with mine. I felt my mouth go suddenly dry – or at least drier than it was before – and swallowed, looking down at the bow, escaping his gaze.

“Yeah. What else would it be?”

“You tell me.”

He didn’t move or say anything else. Daryl just stood there, waiting for me to say something, and I almost did. I felt like I wanted to tell him now, just say it and get it over with, but my throat seemed to be reminding me of the reasons why I didn’t want to voice it. I couldn’t admit it, not yet.

“I’m fine, Daryl,” I finally said and mustered courage to look up at him. “Really.”

For a moment he didn’t move, still fixing me a deep gaze, and finally nodded, really slowly, and straightened up. “Alright,” he said tightly before turning around and walking away without looking at me again, but saying “Eat. Ya sure as hell need it.”

I stood there looking at his retreating form for a long moment. Was it possible that he knew it? The way he asked, like he wanted me to be the one to tell him, as if he already knew but wanted me to trust him with the truth… Was that it? Was I not being discreet enough with my nightly episodes? I shook my head, looking down at the bowl – warmed up but already cooling brown beans and sweet corn stared back at me. No, he didn’t know. He didn’t even know me well; there was no way he had observed me that well. I looked up again, trying to see him one more time as if this would give me an answer, but didn’t find him. Was he observing the that closely? Did he care enough to do that?

I ate half of the food, only because I knew she needed it, but my stomach refused to eat more than that. I stood there on guard for nearly three hours as the rest of the people on camp started their days, until Jackie came to release me.

In the tent area, I found Merle waking up from the nap he had taken after his watch and breakfast, and Daryl handing him his share of guns.

“Any special request from the woods, pumpkin?” Merle said when he saw her approach.

“I would like veal, if you please.”

Behind him, Daryl snorted. “Did ya just do a British accent?”

“Shit, did I?” damn, I seemed to already be tired if I was cracking bad jokes.

I stayed with them until they had all they needed in backpacks to stay in the woods for a few days to hunt, and were ready to go.

“Hey, you realize it’s the first time in twenty days that I’ll be away from you guys?” I asked out of the blue before I could think of it, after being quiet for a moment when I just watched the Dixons organize their things and talk about the supplies they would need. As I said it, I felt my cheeks get a little pink. If I had stopped to think for just a moment, that was not something I would ever voice. Damn feelings.

“Ya countin’ days?” Merle laughed.

“Yeah, this is day twenty of the new fuckin’ world,” and I waved a hand, “Guess I’ll just stop doing it eventually.”

“Ya gonna miss us aren’t ya?” Merle said as he started to retreat. “Jus’ don’t fall in love, honey pie!”

I laughed and, when he looked back, gave him my middle finger, making him laugh more and send me one himself. Daryl was shaking his head at our interaction, not moving. Smiling, I looked at him and forced myself not to go all serious and keep smiling, but unconsciously my arms crossed over my stomach.

“I’ll see if I find your veal,” Daryl said quietly, a shy little smile playing on his lips, making the little pink in my cheeks grow a little warmer. My smile widened.

“Be careful out there, is all I ask,” I said and saw him frown slightly, he seemed surprised. “Ya know, there walkers in the woods…”

“I got it,” he answered dismissively.

“I know,” and I took a step closing most of the space between us, arms falling to my sides and a hand reaching out for his. I took a light hold of his wrist and saw him look down at my hand and back up at me quickly. “Just… Don’t die. Ok?”

He didn’t answer, instead started to bite on the skin of his lower lip, and after a moment he nodded slowly.

“I won’t.” he promised quietly.

“Good,” I answered in a whisper, only then letting go of his wrist. Daryl took a step back, eyes still on me, and then turned around to walk away, quick steps, towards where Merle had disappeared into the woods.

Ok, I was not kidding myself. There was a moment, right there. Wasn’t there? Damn, I wish I had a friend there right now, someone girl who’d look at me and say there really had been a moment there – but I had never had that friend in my life – just to let me know I was not seeing things, that this had not been my imagination.

Shit. I was definitely fucked. Because I really, really wished I had not imagined this.

* * *

“Ok, now, after taking these calming, deep breaths, you just have to relax and empty your mind,” Andrea tried saying in a quiet, calm voice while I sat by her side, Amy and Lori also around. She opened one eye then, looking at the others. “Or at least it’s what the instructor said. I was never able to do it.”

“Oh, that’s bullshit,” I uncrossed my legs and leaned back, resting on my hands over the rock we were sitting on, by the lake. “How can a person just think of nothing?”

“I did it once,” Amy said, also moving from her meditation position and standing up. “I spent nearly five minutes thinking of nothing, just relaxing, until I noticed I had been thinking about my breath and how long had it been and about my itching nose all the while.”

“I did yoga before Carl was born,” Lori told us. “But never really went into meditation. I don’t think it would be useful now, you know, these days.”

“Yeah, I really don’t wanna be sitting on the woods with my eyes closed and mind faraway when a walker comes over. These eyes are staying wide open,” I pointed briefly at my own eyes.

“Oh, by the way,” Amy called. “I’ve heard you calling them walkers this whole time. How did this name come about?”

I rolled her neck from side to side, listening to its pop before starting to explain. I told the other three women about how I’d been hiding in the Dixon’s house for a while when we saw a neighbor of said name wander around the street, dead, and after that started calling all of them walkers.

“Wow… It’s kinda weird imagining being stuck in a house with those two for as long as you did,” Andrea opined.

“Why’s that?” I asked with a frown.

“I don’t know. Nothing against them, it’s just… They are a little…” the blonde woman thought for a moment before finishing. “Strange.”

“Strange?” I asked for confirmation. “What’s strange about them?”

“Well –”

“It’s nothing personal,” Amy cut her older sister off, trying to help her. “It’s just that they don’t really talk to anybody else here. Just you.”

“Yes, they’re always on the edges of the group, you know?” Andrea kept talking. “I mean, Daryl barely speaks to anyone, and Merle, when he does, it’s to be… Well, snarky.”

“Snarky?” I asked permitting the frown to fade away and give place to an amused smile. “You mean ‘asshole’, right?”

“Well, you said it,” Lori commented.

“They ain’t that bad,” I started. “They’re rednecks, ya know, they got their own ways. Merle really is an asshole, and a racist… And misogynist. And a drug addict.”

“Wow, is there something good about him?” Andrea laughed, but sounded worried at the same time.

“Yes. He’s loyal. He’s been looking after me since the first day, and even though he’s always been a jerk to me all the years I’ve known him, he never crossed a line. Never touched me. I didn’t in the beginning, but I feel safe around him now,” I paused, impressed by my own words and how honest they had been.

“Alright. What about Daryl?” Amy asked seeming more interested her body turning a little more towards me.

“Uh, well… You girls might not believe it, but Daryl is actually really kind,” I smiled. “He’s got this hardened exterior, he’s always had, but he seems to be a good guy. I guess he is, you know.”

“You guess?” Lori asked. “Did you say you know them for a long time, how many years again?”

“Eighteen. I’ve been their neighbor for this long, but we’ve never been friends. Never talked before that day, actually. We just ended up together by chance.”

“Oh. Oh, so you mean…” Andrea started, paused to look at her sister and then again at me. You and Daryl, you’re not together?” she seemed to find this idea strange.

“Together? You mean, together, together?” I asked and at Andrea’s confirmation and Amy’s emphatic not, I continued. “No. We’re barely friends… I mean, I guess we are now, but it’s been less than a month.”

“But do you like him?” Amy questioned yet again.

“Like this? Oh, uh…” damn the questioning. I never saw this conversation taking this direction. “I care about him, of course, but there’s nothing happening in that way.”

There, it was not a lie. Nothing had ever happened, and this was true. Didn’t have to say I didn’t feel anything, because that would have been a lie. Andrea and Amy shared a look that didn’t pass unnoticed, both of them going quiet.

“What?” I asked. “What is it?”

“Nothing.” Amy answered a little too fast.

“Amy has a crush on him,” Andrea told them.

“Andrea!!”

“You have a crush on Daryl?” Lori asked seemingly holding in a laugh.

“It’s no big deal! I just… I think he’s cute.”

“Cute? Really?” Lori meddled in again. “Daryl, cute?”

“Alright, I mean hot!” Amy confessed, her cheeks going pink, hands moving up to cover her face.

“Well, that’s more like it.” Andrea agreed. “See, the guy’s single, isn’t that what you wanted to know?”

“It doesn’t matter, ok?” Amy uncovered her face. “It’s not like I’ll do anything about it. A guy like that would never look at a girl like me.”

“Well, you don’t know that…” I said quietly, a bit shocked at these confessions. “He might. That is, I mean... How old are you again?”

“Twenty-four.”

What?! “Oh. Alright, you look a lot younger... He’s not that much older, I think about fifteen years.”

“I told you, it doesn’t matter, nothing is gonna happen!” Amy assured again. “I just think he’s hot, that’s all,” and then she pointed a finger sharply at her older sister, “Andrea thinks the same thing about Shane!”

“Amy!!”

* * *

As the sun started to set on the horizon, coloring it beautifully with pink and orange shades, the fire that centered the clearing roared high, crackling the twigs and dry leaves the children had collected earlier. Carol was around it, setting cookers ready for Morales and I to start preparing the group’s night meal. Silently and with her head down, she worked not paying people around any attention, not noticing the ones who were standing guard, or the children running around and giggling without a single worry in life, or the four women who approached the clearing carrying two buckets filled with water each. Carol only looked up at them when some of the men ran towards us to offer and take the heavy buckets from their hands. They gladly handed them out, happily being released from the weight; except for me.

“Now ya’ll offer?” I asked and kept walking, leaving Shane with his hands extended trying to take the containers. “Don’t touch the buckets, I got it!”

I carried them over to the fire, now along with the men, and placed them on the ground.

“Do you really have to do it by hand?” Carol asked me as the others moved away. “Can’t you just take a car down there?”

“I don’t wanna spend any more gas than we have to,” I explained rolling my shoulder muscles to relieve the tension. “Cars should all be ready to go if we have to.”

“Right. But next time at least get the men to do that. Those are pretty heavy,” Carol struggled with the last sentence as she lifted one metal bucket to place it over the grill that had already been placed over the fire.

I barely heard her last few words. My eyes were trained on Carol’s forearm; the long sleeved shirt she had been wearing unintentionally rolled up. There, over Carol’s pale and delicate skin, four angry purple marks shaped perfectly as fingers.

“Carol?” I reached out instinctively and took Carol’s hand on mine. “What’s this?”

Carol looked down and immediately flinched, understanding what I had been looking at. She took her hand away from me and lowered her sleeve quickly, blue, watery eyes darting around checking if anyone else had seen in.

“It’s nothing,” she urgently whispered. “Really, I just hurt myself –”

“When did he do this?” I ignored her tentative excuse. “Gotta been last night, right? They’re fresh.”

“Sam, really, it’s nothing. I was my fault.”

“Yeah, and what did you do? Didn’t iron his shirt right?” I also whispered, but anger was clear even then.

“No! Sam, just let it go, ok? I’m the one who annoyed him –”

“You annoyed him?” I repeated, outraged. “He must have done it pretty quietly, huh? So no one else would hear it?”

“Sam, please, listen to me,” Carol’s whisper now sounded like a plea. “Just let it go. Please. I don’t want a scene, I don’t want to make things worse.”

I took a moment to breath, my anger tightening my throat dangerously. I saw terror in Carol’s eyes, and knew that acting on my outrage would really only make things worse at the moment.

“This man is nothing without you, Carol,” I announced instead of running to Ed’s tent and beating the fuck out of him. “Not a fuckin’ thing. He made you think that you need him, but you don’t. He is the one who needs you. You’d be just fine without him. In the past, you could very well leave, find help, get a job. It wouldn’t be easy, but nothing in life really is, right? And now, you need him even less. You have this whole group to look after you and Sofia. You got me, alright? You don’t need him,” I took a hard breath and an angry laugh came out of my lips. “He, on the other hand… What would this useless fucker be without you, Carol? If you left him, he’d starve. He’d stink, live out of a can of beer and cup noodles, and he would never, ever again, find another woman who’d even look at him twice. He’d die alone and miserable while you rebuilt your life.” I looked around and gestured around the camp, moving on to an astonished looking Carol. “And here? He’s only here because of you and your girl. Nobody here likes him. Shane didn’t want him to come. If it wasn’t for you, he’d be out on the road, alone, eaten by walkers. He owes you everything, Carol, every fuckin’ little thing, now and then. He made you believe that you need him so you wouldn’t leave, because he is a fucking useless piece of shit.” I smiled despite Carol’s wide eyes and opened mouth. “You have no idea of the power you got over him.”

At the end of my speech, Carol blinked and looked down, wordless. I took a step back, staring to move away, and Carol look at me again, still not saying anything.

“I can teach you self defense if you want. You and Sofia. You don’t have to go thought it anymore, girl. Just say the word.”

With that, I turned around and walked away from Carol. I hoped, for Ed’s sake, that he didn’t cross my path anytime soon.

#twd #The Walking Dead #twd fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfic #the walking dead fanfic #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl twd fanfiction #daryl dixon twd fanfiction #original female character #daryl original female character

1 note · View note

vitanes · 6 years ago

Text

this one is for @miss-pulet i’m sorry for such a delay but i got a little bit carried away n ended up with over 7k words ifjisjf i hope u will like it!

a little bit of you and me

Lucas hates everything soulmates stand for, especially the lack of choice and how fake it seems to be. Don’t even get him started on how weird his mark is. He definitely never wants to meet his soulmate.

But the universe? It always finds a way to fuck him over.

(Or, the one with a zoo, Eliott and some difficult dilemmas.)

At the age of six, Lucas had only a vague sense of understanding what exactly soulmates were. Being more invested in cartoons and his toys, he didn’t pay much attention to the mark over his heart. Unlike some kids around him, he didn’t observe the way it’d started changing its shape to something more than a dark blob that could have been easily mistaken for a mole.

Perhaps, that’s why when one day he was taking a shower and he noticed half of his chest was covered by dark shapes, he freaked out.

It took his parents over half an hour to calm him down and then another thirty minutes to convince him that his mark wasn’t ugly or weird.

Being twenty-one, Lucas still thinks his mark is bizarre. Of course, It’s gotten smoother over the years, more realistic. It doesn’t look like a pre-schooler doodled it.

But–

Some people have flowers, flames. Normally paired up animals. He, on the contrary, has got a hedgehog and a raccoon intertwined together. With no way of knowing the meaning behind it. Especially since he’s not very keen on meeting his soulmate.

Don’t get him wrong, good for all the people that have found their destined ones, but he’d rather stay out of this business. He can go on his whole life without meeting the person that made the strange duo form on his chest.

Soulmates are overrated.

***

The first day of Lucas’ summer internship at the local zoo would have been going pretty well if not for one tiny detail. Or well, not that tiny since Lucas is shorter, but. But, another intern keeps being very distracting through the whole day. From the second the guy anxiously introduced himself as Eliott, Lucas couldn’t have been able to stay calm. It doesn’t matter how hard he tries not to pay attention to him, he gives in to throwing glances now and then anyway.

The worst thing is that Eliott isn’t even doing anything special. He works with the animals, the same way Lucas or Imane and Manon do. Yet, all Lucas can do, is agonise in silence over how gentle and cute Eliott is with those they are supposed to take care of. It’s only day one, how Lucas is going to handle the next weeks is beyond him.

Having issues with being gay, but also being gay is a little bit problematic for Lucas. That’s why he hopes Eliott won’t get near him. That way Lucas will get his staring without any consequences. Besides, what business would Eliott have in talking to him?

Well, in Lucas’ opinion none.

***

Lucas is feeding the dolphins. Not having any prior experience with those animals, he was slightly hesitant the few first times, but eventually, he found out it’s not scarier than dealing with a chimpanzee.

The fish in the bucket are moist and Lucas’ face scrunches up each time he reaches out for one. In order not to have one sliding out of his grasp, he needs to properly hold it and it gets harder with each one. His palms are already fully covered in mucus.

The smell is going to cling to him for days to come. But he’s there for all of the animals, isn’t he? He’s going to face even worse things, the last thing he should be unhappy about is throwing some fish into the water. Some would say it’s even relaxing. He doesn’t need to use much of his brain for this task.

With that in mind, he lets his arms do the work while he tunes out. Next thing he’ll have to do is help with cleaning up some cages. That surely is going to be plenty of fun.

Well, he must have been naïve if he had thought he’d be spending all his time there playing with animals. The kid in him jumped out and the adult forgot about all of the awaiting responsibilities.

“How’s the first day going?”

Lucas jumps, snapped out of his daze. He nearly drops the bucket with the fish, but someone grabs it in the last moment and moves it back towards his hands.

His fingers clasp around the handle. Ignoring his wildly beating heart, he looks up at the intruder.

And oh boy, if it’s not the God himself. The smile that Lucas is on the receiving end of physically pains him. It’s wide and makes Eliott’s eyes crinkle up.

Lucas is sure he probably resembles the fish very well now. With the gaping and all.

They keep staring at each other, Lucas clutching the bucket against his stomach and Eliott standing there, his hair messy and cheekbones so sharp they could cut a bitch. His gaze seems piercing through Lucas who has yet to take a breath if he doesn’t want to suffocate and fall into the water to become dolphins’ dinner.

Pretty sure dolphins don’t eat humans, but that’s beyond the point.

Eliott’s lips move, but Lucas is too out of it. He doesn’t really register anything besides how nice the timbre of Eliott’s voice is. How pleasant.

He shakes his head.

“What?”

“I was repeating my question,” Eliott says, amused and Lucas nods slowly.

Oh, yeah. A question. He can’t make Eliott utter it for the third time. He needs to remind himself what exactly scared him.

Lucas hums, dumbly, searching his mind for clues, all the while Eliott’s eyes don’t leave his face. To say it’s unnerving wouldn’t be enough. He can’t focus. Until.

“Not bad,” Lucas stutters, casually throwing yet another fish into the water. “What about you?” he adds. If he shows how chill he is with the situation, maybe Eliott will forget whatever has just happened.

“I’m having fun. I love these little guys,” Eliott says, slightly tilting forward.

Lucas’ first instinct is to stop him from potentially falling into the water and ruining his perfectly styled hair, but he refrains. They are strangers, he’s not about to cross some boundaries and potentially touch him.

“Yeah? That means you haven’t dealt with enormous dump yet.” Oh, back with the complaining.

Eliott snorts and takes one of the fish out of Lucas’ basket. He doesn’t throw it to the animals but shoves it in front of Lucas’ face. Lucas steps back from it, puzzled but doesn’t say anything. He needs to play along even if he could end up with a mouthful of raw fish. He has no idea what Eliott is capable of after all.

“A little poop has never killed anyone,” Eliott says in a deep voice, while his fingers move the fish’s mouth as to imitate talking. That’s something Lucas did not expect. But maybe he should have. Given the context, there aren’t many things Eliott could have done with the fish.

Seeing that Eliott is not some mysterious enigma makes Lucas somehow less intimidated and he rolls his eyes, sighing. He wrings the fish out of Eliott’s hands before he tosses it into the water, careful not to touch Eliott’s skin. Boundaries, right.

“You’re weird. Don’t play with food,” Lucas retorts, but a little smile appears on his face anyway. He just can’t help himself. Sue him.

“You think I’m weird?” Eliott teases, nudging Lucas in the ribs. Well, as it seems, not everyone cares about boundaries. “Well, get ready because it’s going to get only weirder from now on.” There’s a promise in Eliott’s voice, accompanied by a wicked grin and eyes full of sparks.

Lucas’ heart skips a beat.

***

Lucas wasn’t all that keen on being friendly with Eliott, since Eliott is a very very cute boy. But what can one do when someone keeps on reaching out? And chatting them up? He can’t force Eliott to fuck off, he isn’t an asshole. Also, it’s not like he’s oh, so very bothered by it. Or, if he is, it’s not in the sense he ought to be.

It’s been, what, two weeks? Since Lucas has started working there. And so far Eliott has managed to work alongside him more often than not, entertaining Lucas with how he impersonates some animals or making the most mundane things sound interesting. They exchanged social media, followed each other on Instagram. Eliott has a tendency to send voice notes whenever anything out of ordinary happens. They’ve fallen into a habit of sending each other memes.

Just bro things.

Long story short, Eliott must have decided they should not only be co-workers but friends as well.

And if Lucas’ blush is from a prolonged eye-contact and not caused by physically dragging an animal from one place to another, well then, sucks to be him.

***

“So, what do you think about soulmates?” Eliott asks one day when they are eating lunch. They are both sitting at a small, tiny table with very little room between them.

Lucas swallows down his cheese and ham sandwich and shrugs.

“They exist,” he says, unbothered. He hears Eliott huff.

“Elaborate, maybe? Have you met yours? Are you excited to meet them?”

“Not really. I haven’t met them, but even if I had, I wouldn’t care.” Lucas turns to Eliott just to be met with a confused gaze. He smiles meekly. “I think it’s forced. You are expected to jump on some stranger just because your marks match? That’s bullshit. You don’t know them. Very shallow. And it’s like, what, if you fall for someone who isn’t your soulmate, it’s less valid? You have to leave them if you eventually meet that soulmate? Thank you very much. I don’t believe in its profoundness,” Lucas explains, his fingers idly playing with the sandwich.

Anyone who’s ever met him knows his opinion on the topic. He’s got many reactions whenever he spoke his mind; pity, skepticism or even understanding. But no one has ever been as baffled as Eliott is in this moment. Like he can’t quite grasp the meaning of Lucas’ words, as if this whole way of approaching the subject was unbelievable for him.

“And you?” Lucas eventually mutters, putting his sandwich down on the table. After playing with it for too long, it doesn’t look edible. And Lucas’ fingers are sticky from butter.

The tips of Eliott’s ears are pink when he admits, “Thinking about my soulmate kind of helps me get through.”

Oh.

Eliott looks down and then to the side, his teeth biting down on his bottom lip. “It’s kind of reassuring, knowing there’s someone that will get me. Accept all of me. I feel less alone. I see your point, though. I just think that you’re bound to eventually get to know them. Being soulmates makes the connection stronger, I guess.” He looks back at Lucas, something inexplicably sad hiding in his eyes. Despite that, he still smiles softly.

“Why do you think someone who’s not your soulmate wouldn’t accept you wholly?” Lucas asks, curious. He can’t imagine a universe in which someone could dismiss Eliott.

“Let’s just say I can be hard to love,” Eliott whispers, fingers tapping an uneven rhythm on the surface of the table.

Lucas wants to disagree, but he fears he could sound foolish. After all, he barely knows Eliott.

(Deeply, Lucas disagrees anyway. Eliott must have been told that he’s hard to love by all the wrong people. The people like Lucas’ dad who made his mother believe the same.)

***

Taking a walk back home with Eliott isn’t something unusual, but it sure makes Lucas aware of many things each time their shoulders brush.

They’ve been leaving the zoo together ever since they found out they don’t live far away from each other. Things feel completely different in the late evening and instead of being nervous around Eliott, Lucas finds himself getting relaxed. They don’t need to use words, especially when they pretty much use them up during the day. Sometimes they keep completely quiet right up until they part in front of Lucas’ building.

There’s a lake they pass by on their way there and that’s where they currently are at. The air around them is warm, with only a slight breeze blowing through their hair. There are still traces of the setting sun all over the sky, with its edges painted warm red. An occasional chatter coming from random passers-by’s. It’s that time of the day when the bugs start their concert. The atmosphere is peaceful, romantic even.

Lucas throws a glance towards Eliott and sees him closing his eyes, exhaling. The day was tiring and it shows on Eliott’s face just how worn out he is. But still, there’s something beautiful about him that Lucas can’t find a name for.

Eliott opens his eyes lazily as if he’s sensed he’s been watched and they look at each other for a few seconds too long. Eliott smiles at him and the back of his palm knocks against Lucas’ fingers.

Lucas feels like he could stay in this moment forever.

***

Lucas should have known that a bored Eliott holding a hose would be a dangerous combination.

It hits him just how dangerous when he’s minding his business, cleaning up the cage with his own hose just to suddenly have the back of his shirt drenched in a matter of seconds. He doesn’t even have time to escape the attack.

He can hear loud cackles and after turning around, ready to throw hands, he’s faced with Eliott who’s doubling over from how hard he’s laughing.

“That’s funny to you?” Lucas asks, exasperation audible in his voice.

Eliott fans himself with his hands, visibly trying to contain his laughter, but fails horribly. What’s worse, his laughter turns into loud snorts. Lucas’ chest is filled with fondness and he can’t have that.

That’s why he raises his hose up and points it directly at Eliott’s scrunched up face. The laughter dies down immediately and Lucas can’t help, but feel smug. After seeing how ridiculously adorable Eliott looks like, it’s Lucas’ turn to crack-up. He thinks he got his point across, his revenge if you will. That’s why he’s completely caught off guard when Eliott mercilessly covers the rest of Lucas’ body in water.

It’s needless to say things can only escalate from this point on and soon enough they are having a full on fight. The only sounds audible over the stream of water are their chuckles. They get so into it that Lucas ends up in Eliott’s headlock, having the water poured down his head. His face is squished against Eliott’s chest and if they weren’t in the middle of a war, Lucas would have panicked.

But as it is, he’s way too competitive and too into it as of now. He tries to wring out of Eliott’s hold. To no avail, sadly. He only manages to pull away slightly, far enough to open his eyes.

Far enough to have his heart stutter in his chest when he sees Eliott’s skin under his soaked shirt. It’s so wet it’s become see-through and to Lucas’ horror, he’s mere centimeters from a mark he knows all too well. That isn’t on his skin.

He stops fighting against Eliott and just stares at the weird combination of animals displayed over Eliott’s heart. It’s exactly the same as Lucas’ and he looks down on himself to check whether his own mark stands out as proudly as Eliott’s.

He lets out a sigh of relief upon noticing it’s still covered.

“Please, don’t tell me I damaged you with that water,” Eliott says next to Lucas’ ear and Lucas looks up into his eyes, panicked. He must have spaced out, if the worried look on Eliott’s face is anything to go by. Their hoses have been turned off and there are tentative arms supporting Lucas’ weight against Eliott’s body.

It’s then that he realises how weak in the knees he is.

He straightens up and puts some distance between their bodies, a reassuring smile stretching his lips.

“I’m fine,” he says, his voice sounding foreign even to his ears. Eliott must catch onto something as well because he doesn’t look convinced. “Really, I’m all good,” Lucas insists and gives Eliotts a thumbs up to emphasise.

He’s far from feeling good, but he needs to leave freaking out for later. He can’t let Eliott know what he’s just found out.

Lucas nudges Eliott in the shoulder and looks around.

“We made more mess than there was, to begin with,” he says, pleased with how calm he appears. “Come on, let’s get changed and try to fix it up,” he adds.

Eliott nods, his lips pursed, and follows Lucas to the lockers. Completely unaware of all the emotional turmoil going through Lucas’ mind.

***

No, no, no. Nononononono.

No.

Eliott can’t be Lucas’ soulmate. He just can’t. It’s not allowed. Maybe his eyes played some tricks on him.

Lucas is standing in the bathroom, getting ready for another day of work. He hasn’t moved for the past few minutes, though, his eyes glued to his reflection in the mirror. More precisely, to the mark on his chest. He’s never spent as much time studying the image as now. He’s trying to find any detail that would tell him his mark and Eliott’s are not the same.

Because they can’t be, shit.

Lucas has been feeling so fucking good around Eliott. Might have even started to like him. Like, the instant connection between them made him feel exhilarated. Big ‘fuck you’ to everyone claiming you can’t have an honest bond with someone that isn’t your soulmate. And sure they haven’t known each other long enough to have that depth, yet. But Lucas swears there was a potential of something grand.

Now it turns out all of that was a scam. They don’t like each other for who they are, but because the universe is telling them.

That’s the last thing Lucas wished for. This choice to make, that he was robbed off. Yet another one. If he was forced to be in a dysfunctional family, with sexuality that people were killed for, he could at least be free to choose who he wanted to love.

And it’s a shame, because Eliott is someone Lucas could see himself easily falling for.

He sighs deeply with resignation and pulls a shirt over his head. Even covering the mark doesn’t make him feel any better.

***

Lucas is inclined to putting some distance between himself and Eliott, but he wants to be subtle about it. Eliott is a smart guy and if Lucas stopped whatever they have going on out of the blue, he’d get suspicious. And Lucas is pretty determined in avoiding the outcome where Eliott finds out the truth.

It’s not easy, the distance thing. For more reasons than one. They work together, Eliott is a pretty affectionate guy and a part of Lucas doesn’t want to be away from him. But what has to be done, has to be done. So Lucas throws himself into the work. It’s reasonable for him to focus on it than on messing around with his co-worker.

Eliott seems to buy it.

It gets less subtle as time passes. They still work side by side, but most of the time Lucas is left alone. He tries not to appear cold or bothered when Eliott chats him up during lunch breaks, but he also doesn’t put as much effort as before. Using his phone while Eliott talks to him may be rude, but at the very least it makes Eliott take the memo and after a couple of days, his attempts to make a conversation are very few. Eliott stops walking Lucas home and eventually, their relationship turns into one between two people that work at the same place and may not even be very fond of each other.

No lingering stares, no accidental touches and no relaxing silences.

Well, it may be cruel, but Lucas would rather have Eliott not liking him than knowing they are soulmates.

The internship will end at some point and they won’t have to see each other ever again anyway. That’s what Lucas tells himself every time he wants to reach out to Eliott.

Everything goes on like that for quite some time and Lucas makes peace with it. He convinces himself that he stopped the storm before it properly started. Everything is good up until Manon suggests they all should grab dinner together, hang out a little bit since they’ve gotten familiar enough with the whole staff working at the zoo. No one seems to be against the idea.

For a moment Lucas tries to come up with an excuse not to come, but he quickly talks himself out of it. With nearly everyone participating, there will be a pretty big crowd. Just because he’s avoiding Eliott, it doesn’t mean he has to shut himself off completely. The chances are, they won’t even run into each other. Right?

***

It’s only Lucas’ luck that he ends up sandwiched between Imane and Manon all the while Eliott is sitting right across him. And he’d have to be stupid not to notice the expectant looks Eliott keeps throwing his way.

He pretends he’s stupid, though, and with his head hanging low, he tries to seem as engrossed in his food as he can.

The fact everyone’s talking amongst each other and they don’t pay much attention to him besides asking him to pass them something is good. The fact he’s hyper aware of Eliott at any second not so much, though.

The girls are having a discussion over his head that more people start joining in and Lucas wishes he could participate, act normally, but he hasn’t slept much lately and his mind is too full. All he craves is some quiet.

Someone kicks him under the table. Not hard, giving him a way to brush it off as an accident. And that’s how he knows it’s Eliott.

Lucas is tired. Tired of the avoiding, of how he screwed up the friendship that has started blossoming between them. All because he’s a stuck-up bitch who denies himself good things in life because of reasons. Even if they are soulmates it doesn’t have to mean everything between them will be completely fake.

He doesn’t want to deny Eliott any longer.

That’s why he looks up.

He’s met with an anxious smile tugging at Eliott’s lips, but determination lighting up his eyes.

“Want to leave?” he mouths, tilting his head towards the exit.

Lucas doesn’t hesitate before nodding.

The first minutes after they’ve left, they are just walking aimlessly around, not uttering a single world. And it’s not the same comfortable silence they shared before. Lucas knows it’s his fault for creating that gap between them.

They were fast to go from strangers to friends to strangers again.

“The weather is nice tonight,” Eliott breaks the quiet and Lucas needs a moment to process. It’s weird to hear Eliott speaking to him so casually all of sudden.

“The weather? Really?” Lucas retorts, hoping he doesn’t sound hostile.

“Why not? It’s better than nothing.” Lucas sees Eliott shrugging out of the corner of his eye.

Lucas sighs and moves a hand over his face. “I’m sorry for acting so weird lately,” he says, glancing at Eliott.

“It’s okay, we’re all a little weird from time to time,” Eliott’s voice is calm when he speaks, but there’s something hidden underneath it. “You know, sometimes I feel like leaving everything behind and starting over. Sometimes I do things that normally I wouldn’t. We all have our demons.”

Lucas bites down on his lip. Eliott is sharing something personal with him to make Lucas feel more comfortable. To justify the way he’s behaved. Lucas isn’t sure how to feel about it.

“I shouldn’t have acted like a dick, though,” he says, frowning and Eliott’s gaze lays on him.

“You shouldn’t have,” he agrees, his voice full of emotion. Lucas feels like there’s more Eliott wants to add, but he only settles on a soft, “Are you better now?”

Lucas stops walking and Eliott does the same. He turns towards Lucas so they are facing each other and Lucas can’t stop his heart from beating faster when he meets Eliott’s eyes. When he realises how close they are after weeks of distance.

They stare at each other, both searching and expectant. The evening air around them is thick with anticipation.

Lucas tilts his chin up. “Yeah, I am,” he whispers and gets the brightest smile in return.

***

There’s more between them now than there was before. The looks are growing bolder and gestures are going way beyond friendly. Their feet are pressed together during their breaks and there are smiles reserved solely for each other. There’s an unspoken what are we every time they get too close. Eliott pulls Lucas in and Lucas doesn’t resist. He doesn’t want to resist even if it’s against everything he believes in. Everything is the same, but at the same things have changed dramatically.

For example, now, Eliott invited Lucas to come over. He’s never done that. Besides the dinner and their walks after work, they’ve never hung out outside the zoo.

They’ve ordered pizza and have been drinking beer, the atmosphere relaxing and soothing. They are sitting next to each other on the couch, their knees brushing against each other. They’ve eaten almost everything and Lucas feels heavy. Tired. Like he could fall asleep in seconds. The fact he’s surrounded by warmth makes him even lazier.

He turns his head and he looks at Eliott. He doesn’t even flinch when Eliott notices and stares at him back. Lucas lets himself watch. He marvels at how the light reflects in Eliott’s eyes, how soft his hair seems to be and how inviting his parted lips are. There mere centimeters keeping them apart feel like they are kilometer long, but at the same time like there’s no space left for air between them.

It’d be so easy to kiss Eliott in this moment. And maybe Eliott would kiss him back.

Lucas stands up before he inches closer and changes things even more.

He can feel Eliott’s eyes on his back when he takes his steps further away from the couch. He takes a look at Eliott’s face and he seems to be asking why do you keep running away? to which Lucas’ only answer would be I’m scared.

The territory they are currently crossing is as tempting as it is dangerous. Considering everything Lucas’ knows about their supposed bond, he doesn’t dare to take the leap towards his destiny.

What if all he feels towards Eliott is only caused by the soulmate thing? It’s killing him, the lack of knowledge about his own matters of the heart. What part of all of this is genuine and how much of it is just a cunning ploy designed by the universe? What if none of it is truly real?

His eyes land on a drawing of a raccoon. The blood drains from his face and his breath hitches in his throat.

“What is this?” He points at the image, feigning nonchalance.

Eliott moves from the couch and comes to a stop directly behind Lucas. His front is almost touching Lucas’ back and he rests his chin on Lucas’ shoulder. His exhale tickles the side of Lucas’ neck, raising goosebumps over his skin.

“It’s me,” he says.

Lucas scoffs and turns his head slightly to the side to get a proper look at Eliott’s face. “Huh?”

“Like a spirit animal?” Eliott offers sheepishly.

Lucas stares at him, partly amused and partly baffled.

“So, like your fursona?” he asks, his tone teasing and Eliott’s eyes widen.

“I don’t think that’s what a spirit animal is,” he mutters, his cheeks growing redder with each passing second.

“Spirit animals are like in Native American’s culture, though. I believe you are just a regular furry, buddy,” Lucas retorts and reaches behind to pat Eliott sympathetically on the shoulder.

“This is embarrassing,” Eliott mumbles and hides his face in Lucas’ neck. Only then does Lucas realise how close they are. Despite the fact that he moved away earlier just to avoid something exactly like that happening.

“It’s okay,” he says meekly and clears his throat. “I accept you,” Lucas adds, letting out a chuckle right after.

Eliott buries his face deeper in the place where Lucas’ neck and shoulder connect. Eliott is clearly ashamed. “I’m not a furry,” he insists, his lips moving against Lucas’ skin and sending a shiver down his spine. They stay like that for what feels like forever and then, “You’d be a hedgehog.”

***

“How’s the internship going?” Yann asks while Lucas is taking a sip from his bottle.

Seeing how they all have been busy both with preparations for the uni to start and their jobs, it’s amazing that Lucas, Yann, and Arthur managed to find one evening when they were free and could chill together. Lucas has to admit he’s missed his friends and how he doesn’t have to worry about anything around them. Besides, it’s nice to escape the conflicting Eliott-feelings for at least a few hours. They’ve been so close ever since they reconciled that at times it gets overwhelming. Lucas wonders if it’s this intense because they are soulmates.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his palm and puts his beer down.

“It’s okay. Tiring,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You reek of animals,” Arthur chimes in and Lucas huffs.

“I do not,” he retorts. Lucas can admit, the smell was hard at the very beginning, but he’s been taking two showers a day and he’s bought shower gels that are supposed to be efficient. So he does not reek.

Unless he’s just got very used to that animal fragrance.

“You kinda do, dude,” Yann adds, kicking Lucas’ ankle. Arthur snorts and the two of them high five each other.

He needs new friends.

“Anyways, guys! I have news. I met my soulmate,” Arthur announces proudly, his grin blinding.

Lucas rolls his eyes. Amazing news. Really. Ten out of ten.

Yann congratulates Arthur, of course, and that’s when it hits Lucas and he sits up straighter.

“Didn’t you have a boyfriend?” he asks and is surprised at how harsh he sounds.

Arthur tilts his head to the side, his eyes narrowed. “Yeah? So?”

“So you just broke up with him?”

That’s fucking why Lucas hates soulmates. They ruin everything. Whichever higher power decided this concept was okay, must have been really fucked up–

“I didn’t?” Arthur looks between Yann and Lucas, baffled. “Why would I?”

“Because you met your soulmate?”

“So? We hit it off, sure, but there aren’t any other feelings between us? I like her as a friend, but I love my boyfriend. And she’s a lesbian. So any feelings beyond platonic are impossible,” Arthur explains, his tone edging on being defensive, but at the same staying composed.

“I don’t understand. Isn’t a soulmate supposed to be the love of your life? Written in the stars and all that shit?” Lucas asks, feeling more and more stupid after receiving puzzled looks from Arthur and Yann.

“Sure it happens, but mostly when the people like, fall for each other, you know? The stars aren’t in control of your feelings, though. Your soulmate is just a person you vibe with. Can be romantic, can be platonic. Hell, some people hate each other’s guts but are soulmates. Being soulmates with someone just means you two get each other on some deeper level. The connection is stronger. But developing romantic feelings for them? Or any at all? That’s all just chemicals in your brain,” Arthur explains, his index finger pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah, and some people are convinced that soulmates are solely romantic and get together with them the second they meet. Later on, they realise they have no romantic feelings for the person and puff,” Yann adds and Arthur nods at his words.

Lucas feels as if his whole world has shifted off its axis.

Wow. His mind? Blown.

This honestly changes the perspective.

“You okay, Lucas?” Yann asks, watching him like he’s grown a second head.

“Yeah, I’m just processing,” he mumbles, staring down at his lap.

So, his whole life has been a lie. How does one just recover from that? Why has no one ever told him all of that? Now what? He can let himself… feel? Without second thoughts and always stepping back?

As if on cue, his phone vibrates in his pocket. He pulls it out and there’s a notification staring back at him. A message from Eliott. He hesitates for a moment before he clicks on it.

see you tomorrow at the zoo gate at 9pm

Lucas clutches the phone to his chest and looks up at the ceiling, disbelieving.

***

He didn’t get more information from Eliott, but supposing Eliott didn’t cancel, they’re still on. Lucas has no idea what Eliott could have planned, especially there out of all places. After everything Lucas has found out the day before, he doesn’t care that much. He’s just excited to meet up with Eliott and finally stop holding back.

Funny how he needed to be told that his feelings for Eliott aren’t caused solely on the fact they are soulmates. Although, considering his aversion towards the whole concept and his past experiences, it’s not surprising that he couldn’t believe it earlier.

Now, he can finally breathe freely. He’s glad he didn’t fuck up their relationship to the point of no return. He’s glad they haven’t parted their ways yet before anything could happen. Maybe it’s high time Lucas forgave the universe. At least partly.

It’s dark outside and he’s thankful for the fact the zoo management spends so much money on keeping the area around lit up. Otherwise, he’d have been spooked.

Waiting at the gate, Lucas wonders when Eliott is going to arrive. There are still a couple of minutes left and Lucas is sure Eliott wouldn’t be late – he tends to be anxiously early when it comes to the job. So there’s no need to worry about having to wait too long. Unless Eliott stands him up. But he wouldn’t, would he? God, Lucas should have texted him something more besides an okay.

“Hey, hey,” someone is whisper-shouting and Lucas turns around to face the gate that has now been slightly opened. He sees Eliott waving at him to come in and without a single thought, Lucas complies.

After that, Eliott shuts the gate closed again and smiles widely at Lucas.

“What are we doing?” Lucas asks in a hushed voice.

“We are having a date,” Eliott answers, his tone solemn. Lucas can feel the heat creeping up his neck after hearing those words.

A date. They are having a date a day after Lucas realised that whatever they have is real. The fate isn’t fucking around, huh.

But there’s something gnawing at his conscience.

“What about the guards? The cameras? We could be fired for it,” Lucas states, getting antsy at the mere thought.

“A little birdie told me which place is almost never checked and well, let’s say the security will be looking away from certain monitors tonight, if you know what I mean.” Eliott winks at him.

The realisation dawns on Lucas and he opens his mouth. “You didn’t. You know bribing is illegal?”

“Worth it,” Eliott says and shrugs, still beaming at Lucas. “Also, the internships are almost over so not much to lose. Come on.” He tugs on Lucas’ sleeve and drags him in an unknown direction. Lucas lets Eliott guide him without any objections.

They end up by the hippo exhibit and Lucas stops in his tracks. It’s not the place that shocks him, but the blanket laying on the ground with food waiting on it and all the candles carefully placed all over the area. It’s probably unsafe, but everything be damned no one has ever prepared something like that for him.

Eliott has sat down and is fidgeting in place, looking everywhere, but at Lucas. It’s endearing, really.

“I hope I didn’t overdo it,” he admits quietly, his fingers playing with the sleeves of his hoodie.

Lucas comes closer, wary not to knock any of the candles over. He crouches in front of Eliott and grabs both of his hands.

“It’s perfect. Really,” he murmurs, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips and Eliott visibly relaxes.

After that Lucas sits down, reluctantly letting go of Eliott’s palms, and they start eating. An easy banter flows between the two of them and Lucas feels truly content. If someone had told him he’d be on a date with Eliott a few weeks ago, he’d have wholeheartedly disagreed with them. Now, it’s like everything is finding its place.

Funny how fast things change. How they don’t need many words to navigate that fragile thing between them. Lucas just feels like he belongs right there, with Eliott. And he hopes Eliott feels the same.

There’s some fear in Lucas, though. Fear of how Eliott could start acting if only he found out about who they were to each other. Because well, Lucas knows what he feels right now. With or without the soulmate aspect, he’d have fallen for Eliott. And Eliott seems to like him as well, but Lucas knows how Eliott is about soulmates. How important it’s for him. What if he goes overboard once he learns the truth?

“Are we dating now?”

Lucas looks up from his nearly empty plate at Eliott, snapped out of his thoughts. Eliott seems shy and uncertain.

“Do you want us to?” Lucas asks, his heart beating fast and loud.

Eliott shifts closer to Lucas, kneeling in front of him and Lucas straightens up.

Eliott’s voice is shaky when he speaks. “Can I confess something?”

Lucas only nods in response.

Eliott reaches out for Lucas’ hand and before saying whatever he wants to say, he puts Lucas’ palm over his heart. Presses it against his chest. If Lucas focuses hard enough, he can feel the quick thump thump thump under his fingertips. The gesture is even grander for him since he knows just what exactly rests on the skin he’s touching through the material.

Eliott doesn’t let go. He closes his eyes and exhales harshly through the nose, bracing himself. Then, he looks deeply into Lucas’ eyes. “I’m bipolar, Lucas. I think you should know that,” he pauses to take a deep breath before continuing, “and a lot of people tried to convince me that anything I feel is a delusion caused by my illness. But I know that what I’m feeling right now, with you, is true,” he admits, his gaze unwavering.

“And what are you feeling?” Lucas asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“That you are the only one I want,” Eliott answers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Yeah?” Lucas inches closer, up until he’s on Eliott’s eye level. His fingers curl up over Eliott’s heart.

“Yeah,” Eliott breathes out against Lucas’ mouth.

They stare at each other for a few more seconds before Lucas captures Eliott’s lips in a kiss. It’s desperate and messy at first, but they quickly find their rhythm. And despite them having never kissed before, it feels they’ve already done it over a thousand times. It’s familiar.

Like coming home.

***

He’s going to tell Eliott. Lucas needs to do so or else it’ll kill him.

It’s been almost two weeks since their zoo date(no one was captured and candles didn’t burn anything down, much to Lucas’ surprise) and they’ve been together ever since. It’s been amazing. Lucas has never felt happier if he’s being completely honest. One can take whatever they want from it. The point is, that despite things going well, there hasn’t been a day when Lucas didn’t think about the soulmate secret.

Eliott deserves to know. And not when they end up being shirtless together. No, Lucas needs to be honest with him. Eliott told him things about himself despite his fears. So Lucas owes him. And there’s no better occasion to spill his guts than during their next date.

They are at an amusement park. The summer is about to end and Eliott was adamant on going there. Said there’s no better way to celebrate going back to adult life than getting in touch with their inner younger selves. Lucas couldn’t argue with that, especially when Eliott looked at him with those eyes.

Now they are walking hand in hand, munching on some candy floss and thinking of where to go next. Lucas can’t find the right moment to reveal the truth to Eliott and it’s awful.

“Can I ask you something personal?” Eliott asks, grabbing one of Lucas’s hands and swaying it back and forth.

Lucas hums.

“I know we’ve talked about soulmates before.” Oh, fuck, oh, shit he’s seen right through Lucas and is about to call him out, isn’t he? “You told me why you hate the phenomenon. But I was wondering if something happened for you to be so against it?” So Eliott is only curious about it? That’s great.

No need to stress it.

“My parents were married for years, but then my dad met his soulmate and left in an instant,” Lucas says and feels Eliott squeezing his palm. Something warm spreads through his chest. “I wish my tragic backstory was more interesting. But you know what?”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve been kind of warming up to this whole thing. I talked to some people. And yeah,” he finishes lamely and glances briefly at Eliott. Who for some reason, is grinning.

“Maybe let’s go there,” Lucas suggests, pointing towards a giant roller coaster.

He hears Eliott huff and then saying in a gentle tone, “Sure.”

Soon enough they are buckled up and holding each other’s hands like their life depended on it. The moment they are moving, Lucas regrets ever thinking it was a good idea.

He closes his eyes against the wind and he’s sure his fingernails are going to leave half-moon shaped marks all over the back of Eliott’s palm.

At some point, they come to a stop and Lucas opens his eyes, relieved it’s the end just to find out they are very fucking high. About to drop. God fucking save him.

“Hey, Lucas!” Eliott shouts and Lucas turns towards him. Seeing him relaxed and smiling grounds Lucas, no matter how cheesy it sounds.

“What?”

Eliott sobers up in a matter of seconds. “Remember that time we had this water fight? And we went to change?” Lucas nods. Of course, he remembers. Everything has been turned upside down since then. “I saw you changing your shirt,” he says, a meaningful look over his face.

Lucas squints at him, his brain not quite catching up with what he’s just heard. Eliott squeezes his hand again today and Lucas gapes when he realises what kind of bomb Eliott has dropped on him. He wants to say something, but before he has a chance to, they are falling down.

And despite that, the only thing he sees is Eliott.

#elu #elu fic #skam france #skam france fic #lucas x eliott #lucas lallemant #eliott demaury

89 notes · View notes

izzy-mccalla · 6 years ago

Text

Miscommunication and pancakes

Sprace thing with background Jackcrutchie.

Race had lost track of the number of times he'd burst into Crutchie and Jack's apartment at the middle of the night. They always gave good relationship advice and tended to be less condescending than Davey. Race came to them whenever he had a fight with Spot, or if he was feeling stressed, or when his parents called. Now it was three am again and he was feeling clueless and stressed. "I think I love him" Race opened the door having already texted Jack to make sure they were awake.

"Race, what do you need this time?" Jack asked. He was sitting on the couch with Crutchie in his lap fast asleep.

"I need to talk to you" Race quieted his voice and sat down on the floor in front of the couch.

Jack took in his untucked shirt and messed up hair "Spot?" It wasn't the first time Race had showed up to complain about Spot and though Jack tried to look annoyed, Race was upset and clearly needed to talk. Also knowing Race, he would talk and Jack could just nod along "Fine, but be quiet" He brushed Crutchie's hair out of his face and Race stuck out his tongue.

"You're so..." Race groaned "Domestic"

"Aren't you here to complain about you and Spot not being domestic?" Jack reminded him.

"Maybe" Race pouted. Jack was right. Race didn't hate the thing he had with Spot but he wanted more. They started hooking up in college, they were roommates who hated each other. The university refused to let them switch rooms, so they made due. During one particularly heated argument over how messy Race's room always looked they started kissing, which later led to other stuff. It was supposed to be nothing, a way to get out their frustrations and not decapitate each other over petty arguments. But even Race had to admit when they moved in together after college things changed. Instead of occasional argument-sex/make out sessions they leaned more towards kissing and cuddling on the couch. They were a couple in everything but words. "He's just so frustrating!"

"Shh" Jack shushed Race when Crutchie stirred and mumbled something. "He had a big work evaluation, this is the first time he's slept in three days"

"Oof" Race winced in sympathy. Crutchie worked with little kids. He loved his job, but the boss didn't like him so whenever there was a work evaluation he had to work extra hard to not get fired. To make it worse Crutchie had a bad habit of not sleeping when stressed and Race definitely remembered him going weeks without sleeping more than four hours at once "I'll be quieter" Race promised. Race didn't want to bother them, but he needed to talk to someone and Jack was his go to. Jack just nodded and Race took it as cue to keep talking "I love him and I know that our whole arrangement is no feelings. But I need something, this in between.." Race took a deep breath and flopped back on the floor "I can't live with this stupid- whatever! I either want a real relationship with 'I love you' and domestic shit like that" He gestured loosley at the couch "Or nothing. I'm going to move to Italy and never see him again"

"You couldn't do that" Jack was absently stroking Crutchie's short hair and nodding along to Race's rant.

"That's the worst part. I couldn't leave him if I wanted to! That short little asshole is everything in my life and he doesn't even love me like I love him" Race covered his face with his hands and kicked the bottom of the couch out of frustration.

"Race, this is a weird idea: what if you just talked to him?" Jack knew his foster brother well, and he understood his relationship with Race better that he wanted to thanks to multiple late night phone calls. Spot was definitely in love with Race, but emotions and talking had never been his strong suit.

"No," Race shook his head and pulled his knees to his chest "I can't lose him"

Jack was getting a headache "Race just go to sleep. You can stay here, we'll talk tomorrow"

"Thanks Jack" Race yawned and stood up "Night"

Jack nodded and watched Race stumble his way into the spare bedroom. He accidentally shut the door a little too hard and Crutchie stirred "Wha?" He shifted and burrowed his face into the side of Jack's neck "Wha's hapning"

"Shh" Jack rocked back and forth a little "Race is spending the night"

"Mmmn" Crutchie shivered and pulled Jack closer.

"Bed?" Jack asked. He shook Crutchie lightly to keep him awake. Crutchie nodded and nestled closer. Jack picked Crutchie up and it was a testament to how tired he was that Crutchie didn't push him away to try to walk. He stopped by the guest room where Race was fast asleep. Race and Spot needed to talk. Jack was tired of them showing up or calling him at three am to complain about each other

∞∞∞

Ring! Ring!

Spot groaned and fumbled with his phone on the bed side table and groaned when it fell to the floor. The light coming through the window told him it was technically morning, but he was still tired. Race left last night and Spot always had trouble sleeping when Race wasn't there (Not that he would ever admit it) Race slept by attaching himself to the nearest person that gave off heat and the bed felt too empty when Race wasn't next to him. He finally pulled the phone off the charger and answered it "Hello?"

"Spot get your ass over here" Jack demanded "You and Race are having breakfast with us"

"Jack what are you talking about?" Spot was too tired for this

"Race is here and you two are going to talk. Also if you aren't here in 20 minutes I'm sending Albert to wake you up" Jack hung up and Spot stared at his phone. What? He got some weird phone calls from Jack, but this one was probably near the top of that list, right behind the one about the clown and the raccoon. Albert lived downstairs and Spot figured it wasn't going to be a nice wake up call if Jack actually called him, so Spot reluctantly got out of bed. He threw on some clothes and started the walk to Jack and Crutchie's apartment.

He finally got there and knocked on the door "Hello?"

Muffled sound came from inside "Race get the door" Crutchie directed from somewhere inside.

"Why? Who is it" That was Race.

"Do you want pancakes?"

Race swung open the door and froze when he saw Spot "Crutchie you little shit"

"Jack's idea" Crutchie clarified

"Jack you little shit" Race corrected

"Are you okay?" Spot stepped closer. Race's eyes were red and he looked like he'd gotten about as much sleep as Spot did.

"I'm fine" Race shut the door behind Spot and walked back into the kitchen. Jack was sitting at the table drinking coffee and Crutchie was at the stove, making pancakes.

"Why am I here?" Spot asked glaring at Jack "I was asleep"

"You and Race are going to talk. And I am going to eat pancakes" Jack explained.

Crutchie whacked the back of his head with the spatulas handle. "We want you to talk about your extremely destructive relationship that keeps waking us up at three am"

"In my defense it was only two am last time I called you" Spot argued

At the same time Race rolled his eyes "Jack was awake and I didn't wake you up"

They froze and stared at each other. Race was unaware Spot had even thought about their relationship enough to call Jack. And Spot was wondering exactly where Race went when he disappeared and why he needed to talk to Jack. "You are in love with each other. Go talk" Jack pointed to the spare bedroom and Crutchie hit him with the spatula again. Spot stared at them and Race pulled him back to the spare room.

"I love you" Race decided to just let everything out "I know you don't want a real relationship, but I really love you. Please don't hate me"

"Tony..." The pet name gave Race hope, until Spot trailed off and lifted his hand to Race's face. At first Race flinched away, but when he realized Spot wasn't trying to hurt him he leaned closer and Spot rested his hand on the side of Race.

"I love you. I love you so much. I want to spend my whole life with you. I want to go and dates and act domestic, and maybe get a cat" Race had always wanted a cat.

"I love you too," It wasn't exactly what Spot meant to say, the words slipped out.

Race's face broke into a huge smile "Really?"

"Yeah, I love you and we can definitely get a cat" Spot pulled Race closer and kissed his cheek.

"We should probably leave Jack and Crutchie alone" Race suggested "Home?"

Spot nodded and they walked back into the kitchen. "You good?" Jack asked through a mouthful of pancakes.

Race leaned closer to Spot and held his hand tightly "Yep"

"When's the wedding?" Jack asked raising his eyebrows suggestively.

Spot rolled his eyes "We're thinking a fall thing"

"Good," Crutchie pointed at them with his spatula "Stop coming over at three am uninvited"

"Yes sir" Race saluted him and pulled Spot out the door.

"Now what?"

Race smirked "I have a few ideas"

∞∞∞

"Race this isn't what I thought you meant when you said you had ideas" Spot complained.

"What did you think I meant?" Race asked innocently. He looked up from where he was playing with a cat. "You agreed to get a cat"

"Never mind" Spot crouched down next to Race and looked at the cat. According to the sheet the cat was named Squirrel and was four years old. Apparently she was super playful and active, but also loved to sleep in closets and drawers. She had bright blue eyes that looked exactly like Race's and Spot thought she looked perfect.

Race clearly thought so too, he waved at one of the workers. "Can I hold her?"

"Of course" The worker unlocked the cage and handed the cat to Race.

Squirrel sniffed Race's shoulder suspiciously before climbing up so she was standing on his shoulder. Spot held out his hand for her to sniff and she butted her head against it. "The cat is looking down on me" He observed.

Race laughed "You might want to get used to that. The sheet says she likes tall places especially trees" That explained the name. Race put on his best puppy dog eyes "Can we please adopt her?"

"You really think I'm going to say no when you have a cat on your shoulder?" Spot teased. He moved his attention from the cat and started petting Race's hair instead. "Now we'll have two of you"

Race rolled his eyes and coaxed Squirrel onto Spot's shoulder "Pet the cat, I'm going to go do paperwork" He kissed Spots cheek "Love you"

"Love you too" Squirrel clearly objected to Spot not petting her and butted her head against his ear. Spot went back to petting her and watched Race sign the last paper.

"Ready Spotty?" Squirrel jumped from Spot's shoulder and onto Race's foot. Race jumped and fell over into Spot's chest. Squirrel meowed and dug her claws into Race's jeans.

"Going well?" Spot asked sarcastically.

Race smiled "Perfect"

#Sprace #jackcrutchie #spot conlon #racetrack higgins #crutchie #jack kelly #newsies #v writes newsies #im posting all my old stuff #im too tired to put effort into the description #mine #v writes

56 notes · View notes