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kookygranger · 11 months ago

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Fairytale of Hawkins: Part Two

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

A cheesy hallmark Christmas fic inspired by @bettyfrommars's tow truck!Eddie and prompts #1 & #6 from Betty and @allthingsjoeq's Holiday Prompt Party

Summary: A petting zoo, Secret Santa and mistletoe never being around when you need it.

Warnings: reader doesn't have family, reader and Eddie are in their late 20s/early 30s, swearing

Word count: 5.3k

Author's note: Okay, it's 11:54pm on Christmas Eve where I am and this is far from perfect, but I wanted the people who enjoyed the first part to have this for Christmas so here it is. I hope you're all safe and you get moments of peace and joy these holidays.

Part One

You were handsome You were pretty, Queen of New York City When the band finished playing They howled out for more – Fairytale of New York, The Pogues/Kirsty MacColl

3 Days 'Til Christmas

“So uh, what’s goin’ on with you and Robin’s friend?”

Hawkins town centre is frosted with a light dusting of snow that fell in the early morning hours. Picture perfect, like a Hallmark Christmas card. The hum of festive cheer in the crowds doing last-minute gift shopping and partaking in the charming small-town seasonal activities is mostly drowned out by an argument between Dustin and Lucas, Max and the younger Sinclair sibling rolling their eyes in annoyance. They sit, impatiently waiting for the rest of the party to show up, on the edge of the fountain frozen over with the cold snap that swept through town at the beginning of the week.

Steve’s perched on the back of a bench a few feet away, ignoring the squabble as Eddie toes the ground in front of him.

“First of all, I know you know her name. And B, nothing is going on, she’s a great girl and a really good friend to Robin.” Steve shrugs, “We both told you you’d like her.”

Eddie squints, his leather jacket opening to reveal a dark red sweater as his pocketed hand gestures in question, “Why me specifically?”

Steve shrugs again, “Rob and I both thought you’d hit it off. It just feels…right. Don’t you think?”

“I mean yeah, yeah she’s beautiful. Cute as hell when she gets flustered. But she’s a city girl–used to more than this, right?” He looks around at the small-town square, filled with little kids dressed in matching sweaters and flustered mothers pushing prams with clenched smiles. “She’ll be gone well before the ice on the road thaws.”

“So? What’s wrong with having a little holiday fling?”

Eddie sucks his teeth, “I don’t think I can.”

Steve lets out a low whistle, “You’re that head-over-heels already?”

“No.” Eddie shakes his head, cheeks flushing pink from more than just the bite to the wind, then sighs. “Think if I have a fling I might just get there though. This is Robin’s fault she shouldn’t’ve talked her up so much!” Steve chuckles at his friend’s distress. “Doesn’t help that she looks like a damn angel when the snow’s kissing her eyelashes.”

Steve rubs his face, “Jesus Christ.”

***

You and Robin had vowed to hold off drinking for the rest of the holidays after your night at The Hideout, which was followed by a day spent on the couch, groaning about loud noises as Gremlins beamed across the TV in the darkened living room. When you’d finally managed to peel yourselves away from the nest you’d made out of blankets, large diet sodas and greasy fries from the drive-thru, you decided to cross off making Christmas cookies from Robin’s list of “holiday activities that could make the grinch’s heart grow.” She assured you weren’t the Grinch in this situation but it certainly felt, pointed.

The misshapen sugary treats weigh down your tote bag as you walk arm-in-arm with Robin towards the designated meeting spot.

“I keep making a fool of myself in front of Eddie.”

Robin smirks, “You’re doing fine.”

“I can just be so,” you hold out your hand in a vague gesture and grimace, “sometimes, you know?”

Robin laughs, “Oh, I know.”

“Thanks.”

She squeezes your arm that’s wrapped around hers and shakes her head, “Everybody loves you I promise. And if they don’t yet, they will.” You both round a corner, the fountain and a group of animated college kids coming into view. Steve waves from across the street, Eddie turning his head in your direction then away again quickly when you make eye contact.

“Right.”

***

“C’mon now everyone keep up.” Steve claps his gloved hands together, his cheeks pink and his brows furrowed in faux admonishment as he leads the group towards the petting zoo set up for the weekend in the parking lot of Bradley’s Big Buy supermarket. You can tell by the glisten in his eyes how much it means to him to have all of his found family in one place.

You laugh softly when he claps Dustin on the back and the younger boy tries to shrug off his embrace.

“He’s in his element this time of year.” Eddie falls into stride next to you, the both of you now bringing up the rear of the boisterous group.

You nod, a small smile permanently etched on your face from the company. “I can tell.” You walk the rest of the way in silence, watching the antics of the strange mix of personalities in front of you with a distant bemusement as you tried and failed to come up with something to say. Had you called him sexy at one point the other night or did you dream that?

The stench of hay and something less savoury wafts over you as you all enter the car park under a bright red banner with ‘Petting Zoo’ written in white cursive on it. You’re about to ask Eddie if they did this every year when a middle-aged woman stops you with a brochure held out in front of you.

“Have you found Jesus?” She’s standing by the entrance in a matching woollen navy-blue coat and skirt, heels on her stocking-clad feet and hair quaffed perfectly in a bob accentuated by the pearls on her ears and neck.

You don’t even think about your response before it slips out, “Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise he was missing.” You can see Eddie smirk out of the corner of your eye. It was just meant to be a light-hearted joke, but the woman clearly didn’t see the humour.

She purses her lips in a thin line and snatches the brochure back out of your reach. “I should’ve known you were one of his type.” You keep walking along, her voice changed back into a sweeter version as she asks the next person the same question behind you.

You turn to Eddie, his eyes downcast and shoulders higher than they were a second ago. “What type are you?”

He rubs the back of his neck underneath the black knitted scarf that matches his beanie. “Uh, devil worshipper according to this town.”

“Oh, I’m actually lapsed. Found all that sacrificing was getting in the way of my day job you know?”

The smile that catches at the corners of his mouth makes your tummy flip.

“I know whattya mean.” He nods, all dramatics with his feigned seriousness, “So much laundry with all those blood-stained clothes.”

“Right? Such a hassle.” You both laugh as you look at each other. “Do they actually think that?”

Eddie shrugs, “It was worse when I was in high school, but I still get the odd bit of holy water thrown in my direction.”

“Why?” You shake your head and frown, serious this time. “Just because you listen to Motorhead?”

“That and I was the leader of the Dungeons and Dragons club in high school. It’s a game for nerds really, but it kinda got swept up into the satanic panic that was going around at the time.”

“That’s so…dumb.”

He huffs a laugh through his nose, watching your feet walk in sync together. “Yeah, I guess it is.” His head snaps back up, “Wait, how do you know Motorhead?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” You bump his shoulder and scoff, “Did you just judge a book by her cover Eddie the devil worshipper?” He opens his mouth to speak but his reply is cut off by an animalistic snort that has your head turning in curiosity. You gasp as you spot the furry brown creatures leaning into patting hands over a wooden fence, “They actually do have reindeer here!”

Eddie grins as your face lights up. “Did you think they were lying?”

You shake your head, “I thought they’d just be regular deer. I’ve never seen–“ You grab Eddie’s leather-clad arm in your excitement and he looks down at your touch before you bound off towards Robin who’s laughing at your reaction.

El and Max have to coax you into actually patting one when you get closer, the antlers much more intimidating in person. They giggle as you squeal and pull back your hand when a cloud of condensation escapes from the deer’s nostrils as it huffs loudly.

You turn to laugh with them, distracted as the reindeer leans in closer, your body tensing when you feel its hot breath on the back of your neck before it snatches your scarf from around your shoulders. The girls yell as you whip around to see it trot off, barely processing what just happened when you feel a warm hand on your back, Eddie’s frame coming into view as he slips past you and jumps the fence. He’s able to grab the scarf out of the creature’s mouth and sneak back onto your side of the fence before anyone who works there even notices.

You’re speechless as he hands your scarf back to you, El and Max cheering along with Robin and Nancy who’d noticed the commotion.

The younger girls are giggling again when Max interrupts the silent look you and Eddie share while the scarf is held in between the both of you. “You’re a real knight in shining armour this week Munson.” He looks up at Max as she and El walk away, looking for their boyfriends to ask if they’d brave a reindeer pen for them.

“Thank you, Eddie.” You take the scarf from his hands, grimacing at the wet patch on the light fabric. “Don’t know if you can get reindeer drool out of cashmere though.”

He snorts, “Maybe you shouldn’t have worn something so expensive to a petting zoo, princess.”

You brush off the nickname, not entirely sure if it was meant in jest. “You know I’m a feminist, I’m gonna need you to stop coming to my rescue Eddie.”

He smirks, “I don’t think that’s feminism, I think that’s stubborn independence to the point of detriment.”

He was taunting. Flirting really, but Eddie forgets it takes time for people to figure out he’s not just being grumpy all the time. That he isn’t as mean as his initial wariness of people might suggest. For a second he forgets that you haven’t always been a part of this group – that you don’t know him like the others do.

The awestruck look that had graced your face drops. “Jeez okay, I didn’t realise we were reading each other.” His eyes go wide as you shrink into yourself. “You know, I realise you probably don’t like me very much and you might feel like I’m ruining your time with your friends at Christmas, but I am trying Eddie.”

He hates the way your eyes begin to water.

“Robins told me so much about all of you, I know how much you all mean to each other and I really didn’t want to intrude on that, but she insisted that it would be okay. She’s letting me spend the holidays with her family because I don’t have one, and I don’t want her to regret that.” You look down at your feet, “I’ll make sure to stay out of your way from now on.”

Eddie clenches his eyes shut as you walk away to find Robin or anyone else who won’t mind you joining in.

“Nice work Munson.”

***

Once the group have had their share of reindeer petting and eaten the cookies you and Robin had brought along with some hot cocoa from a nearby stand, everyone gathers in the town square again for the annual Secret Santa. You’re huddled together with Robin, head leaning against hers as you steal each other’s warmth and the group gathers in a circle, Steve tossing pieces of paper with everyone’s name written on them into his beanie.

Eddie keeps stealing glances at you as Steve goes around the group, dramatically holding a gloved hand to each of the teens’ eyes and yelling, “No peeking!”

Eddie feels shit. He can’t believe he’s made you feel unwelcome. Well, he can. He knows he can be guarded when it comes to letting new people into his life, but you’re one of Robin’s best friends – spending Christmas with her because you don’t have anywhere else to go and he’s made you feel like he doesn’t want you here. Asshole.

When Steve gets round to you and Robin, he holds the hat out to her then moves on to Jonathan and Argyle next. You figure you’re too new to the group to partake in this tradition, which seems fair. Steve rounds out the wonky circle with Eddie, dropping the beanie with a “whoops” before fumbling on the ground with it, then holding it out to Eddie. You notice him squinting his eyes in suspicion, wondering what’s going on between them when Steve comes back to you.

“Lucky last,” he smiles that charming cherub grin of his and you reach into the beanie to pull the last piece of paper out.

Of course it would be.

Steve reminds everyone of the budget and secret part of Secret Santa with a pointed look at Mike, who frowns in offence before the group starts heading off in different directions.

Robin moves to stand in front of you. “Who’d ya get? Do you need help? I can bend the rules for you seeing as you don’t properly know everyone.”

“Yeah, I feel like I’m a bit disadvantaged.” You laugh nervously, “I uh, I got Eddie.”

“Oh great! He’s easy. Big nerd, you know what he likes.” She starts counting off on her fingers, “Music, DnD, Lord of the Rings and all that fantasy stuff.”

“Yeah, I guess.” You shrug.

She hooks her arm with yours again, “C’mon let’s go together, I got Nancy. I feel like you’ll be better at picking something for her than me.”

***

After an hour and a half, you’re about ready to give up. You helped pick out a faux-leather journal and fountain pen set for Nancy from Robin, but you haven’t been able to find anything remotely good for Eddie’s gift. Everything feels impersonal like something he could’ve just picked up himself and the last thing you want is for him to be disappointed that you got him for the gift exchange. Just another friend-only activity that your presence has ruined.

You’re currently browsing through a second-hand bookstore, hoping to find something you can curl up on the couch in your apartment with during the rest of the holidays, while Robin’s popped into the bath and body shop across the street to look for a gift for her aunt.

Your eyes scan the hardbacks in the fantasy section, fingers running lightly across the spines when they come to a stop on a light green book. You tilt the book from the shelf, admiring the mountains and dragon carved in navy blue adorning the border. This could be perfect. Carefully opening the worn cover, you find an inscription written in the yellowed pages that makes you smile. You close the book softly and head to the counter to ring it up. Maybe he wouldn’t be disappointed.

Dear Henry,

In celebration of our mutual liking – I hope Bilbo becomes a friend as well.

Happy Birthday,

Love, your Arwen

***

Christmas Eve

The butcher paper wrapped gift sat heavy in your palm as you’re greeted by Steve in his living room when you and Robin walk in. You hold up the present in question, keen to get rid of it before your clammy hands ruin the red satin bow decorating it, and Steve points you in the direction of the pile under the colourfully lit tree. You take a moment to admire the personal ornaments, the glint of a red 20-sided dice reminding you of the other inhabitant of this apartment.

The famous Harrington Christmas Eve party had been talked up by Robin for months. In her attempt to get you to Hawkins, she promised you a preview of the King Steve you’d heard her tease him so much about (which he vehemently denied was a thing), potently spiked punch (which you would not be partaking in) and impromptu games out on the street that would cause noise complaints from the neighbours.

And now that Steve and Eddie shared an apartment? Apparently, rowdiness was a prerequisite.

You’re more nervous than you should be as you settle in, taking solace in Jonathan and Will’s quiet company on the couch as you sip on a non-spiked mug of egg nog. It isn’t until half an hour later that Eddie even shows up, despite this being his apartment.

He walks into the living room, cheeks red from the cold, snow still sprinkled on his shoulders and in his hair. He’s followed closely by Dustin who’s rugged up in an assortment of knitwear that looks like it was definitely made by a doting family member, and grins when everyone greets him.

“Finally, you two.” Steve walks in from the kitchen with a bowl of freshly poured potato chips. “Everyone’s here, we’re getting ready for Secret Santa.”

Eddie just nods at him, offering you a tight-lipped smile when you catch his eye before he walks over to the tree to place something under it with his back turned to you.

While everyone gathers in the living room, he ducks out. Returning without all the extra layers, his crisp white t-shirt takes you by surprise and your eyes wander to the silver chain around his neck.

Pull it together, honestly.

“Okay, I’m first!” Robin walks across the room to the tree by the front window, only to be stopped by Steve’s arm.

“What? Why are you first?”

“Well, someone has to be dingus. Why not me?”

“Uh, maybe we should let our guest be the first?” Everyone turns their head towards you and the attention makes you sink further into the couch.

“Oh, no Robin is always first.” You wink in her direction, then frown. “Wait, did that sound weird?” You look at Jonathan and Will who both chuckle, the older boy giving you a shrug.

After Robin tears through her present the decision is made to go anti-clockwise around the room. The closer it gets to Eddie who’s sitting on the couch opposite you, the more your palms begin to sweat. You don’t think your heart could take him being indifferent to his gift, and you hated that you cared so much about what he thought. What was this town doing to you?

When Steve hands Eddie his gift your back automatically straightens, perched perilously on the edge of your seat you grip the mug of egg nog in your hands. He takes his time with unwrapping, not diving straight in and tearing like you would’ve expected, even draping the ribbon around his neck once he’s untied it. When he gets to the gift the room is mostly silent, save for the Christmas carols playing from the stereo in the corner. You’d already clocked The Kinks, The Damned and Ramones – sure that the boy who held your last ditch gesture in his hands had picked the tunes.

Eddie’s face is stoic as his fingers run along the cover of the book. When Dustin and Mike, sat near him spot what it is they share exclamations of “Sick”, but you’re more interested in the metalhead’s opinion. You take in a deep breath as he opens the well-preserved cover and you watch his eyes read the inscriptions.

After much back and forth you’d decided to leave your own message next to the original one. Writing in pencil in case he wanted to erase it.

He rubs his freshly shaven jaw then his eyes find yours across the room. They’re soft. Pools of awe that match the tone of his quiet voice.

“Thank you.”

You offer him a small smile, “You’re welcome.”

“How did you know it was from her?” Dustin pipes up from his seat on the floor.

“Lucky guess.” His eyes hadn’t left yours until then, and you watch him scan the message again.

Dear Eddie,

I know you’re already well acquainted but I thought what better company on a long winter’s night than the second best party to go on adventures with (second only to your own of course).

Merry Christmas,

C.G.

You feel his eyes on you as the rest of the gift-giving takes place around you. Wiping the sweat off your palms now that the moment was over, but the tension you’d felt hadn’t lifted from your chest – only tethered itself to the cause that was sitting across the room lightly brushing his thumb over your offering.

You’re the last in line to open your Secret Santa, but the attention of the room has been caught up in the gifts that have already been revealed. You’re admiring the new camera bag Jonathan is turning over in his hands when Steve taps you on the shoulder. He holds out a small parcel that fits in the palm of his hand and winks at you when you take it, before walking over to sit by Dustin.

You look down at the parcel wrapped in shiny red paper, tugging at the twine tied around it when you feel the weight of the couch shift beside you.

Eddie takes up more room than Jonathan who’s now sitting on the arm of the sofa across from you with Nancy’s arm draped over his leg. He’s manspreading a little, but the only reason you notice is because of the close proximity of his knee to yours.

“You got me,” he gestures to the gift in your hands, “I mean I got you. Well, I guess both are true.” He holds up his new copy of The Hobbit and smiles softly.

You look down at your lap again and begin to unwrap your present, Eddie’s leg bouncing next to yours. A glint catches your eye as a pair of dangly ruby earrings is revealed.

“They’re not real obviously,” Eddie scratches his jaw, “and Robin said you’d be happy with anything, like a snow globe or candy but I saw these in the drugstore and thought they’d look good on you.”

You smile, “Eddie they’re really pretty. Thank you so much.”

He blows out a puff of air, “You like them?”

“I love them, honestly. Oh, look we match!” You hold out the earrings next to the ring on his finger sporting a small ruby stone.

His cheeks are dusted in pink as he smiles, “Yeah, I guess we do.” You ask him to hold the earrings you had in before as you swap them. “You don’t have to put them on now.”

“I know, I want to.”

His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, mesmerised as he watches you put on his earrings. “What does C.G. mean by the way?” He opens the book in his lap again.

“City girl.” The frown on his face troubles you momentarily before he speaks again, doe eyes pining you down once more.

“Thank you. It’s really special. You’re really–“ He trails off, eyes searching yours as you wait for him to finish his sentence. But he doesn’t. Instead, he gets up so abruptly that you flinch. “I gotta uh, find something…I’ll be back.”

You turn to Will who had been not so subtly watching the whole exchange from the other side of the couch and gives you a sympathetic smile when you say, “I still don’t know where I stand with him.”

***

For the next twenty minutes, you only see glimpses of Eddie as he darts in and out of rooms. Stomping around like he’s on a mission, a crease etched deeply in his brow. While Nancy and El are admiring your earrings in the kitchen, you hear a squeak of shoes on the linoleum before you see a blur of brown hair disappear around the corner.

You excuse yourself, finding Eddie alone in the hallway, leaning up against the wall with his arms crossed and head tilted to the ceiling.

“Eddie, are you okay?” He shakes his head and huffs out a bitter laugh. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s always goddamn mistletoe at these things. Steve always gets drunk and tortures people with it, but then this year? Of course there’s none!”

You step closer, now standing in front of him but he doesn’t meet your eye. You’re confused. “Why do you need mistletoe?”

“So I have an excuse to kiss you.”

Oh.

OH.

Wait, what?

“Why don’t you just…kiss me?”

His head snaps down, eyes flickering back and forth between yours with a frown. “Can I?”

You bite your lip to stop the enormous smile threatening to creep onto your face. “Yes Eddie, you can kiss me.”

He pushes himself off the wall, crowding your space and reaching a hand out tentatively to touch your face, thumb gently stroking your skin like he had the book. He searches your eyes for any hesitation before he leans in slowly until your fluttering lashes tickle his cheek and he can’t take it anymore. The kiss is as soft as the snow falling in flurries outside, one elongated peck before you're both leaning in for another, and another. Turning tender as he reaches his other hand to pull you closer by the waist. You can taste peppermint on him, probably from one of the candy canes hanging on the tree, but it’s the warmth from his chest and the heady scent of his cologne and smoke that clings to his shirt that has you lost in him. So lost that when his thumb gently pulls down on the side of your mouth, you let him in with no hesitation, his tongue now spreading his warmth from the inside.

“Wow, that got R-rated really quick.” You jump and lean back, not moving far with Eddie’s grip still on your waist. You look down the hall and catch Robin nodding with a look of slight disgust on her face next to a smirking Steve standing there with his arms crossed.

Eddie bows his head and sighs, “Really? Think you can maybe take the commentary somewhere else Harrington?”

He holds up his hands in defence, a leafy twig with white berries hanging from his hand. “Hey, I was just coming to give you two a push, but it looks like the party’s already started.”

Eddie pinches the skin in between his brows, “For fuck sake.” You cover your mouth with your hand at the sight of the deep blush creeping into his cheeks, which deepens even further when you both hear Dustin yell from the other room.

“Did he kiss her yet?!”

Eddie groans and moves his hand to the small of your back to guide you out the door, flipping off the audience at the end of the hall before grabbing your coats off the hanger. He helps you into yours and leads you outside the apartment building by your hand.

For the first time since you arrived in Hawkins, you don’t notice the cold that greets you, focused entirely on Eddie’s warmth as he crowds you against the brick wall of the building. He holds one arm above you, almost enveloping you in his soft waves when he leans in.

That intense gaze has you shying away again, opting to play with the zipper of his jacket instead of looking back.

“You really liked your gift that much huh?”

“I really like you.” He tilts your chin up.

“I didn’t think–“

“I’m sorry if I made you feel unwelcome,” he frowns. “I have trouble letting people in.”

You shake your head and he moves his hand to stroke along your jaw. “It’s okay, this is a very special family I’ve walked into. I understand why you’d be wary of anyone disturbing that.”

“You fit right in. I promise.”

“Thank you, Eddie.”

He smirks, “Also, I’m just really, really bad at flirting when it comes to drop-dead gorgeous city girls.”

You grin, “I think you’re probably better at it than you think.”

He leans in, lips a breath away from yours, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

***

Christmas Day

The screen door shudders under your touch as you knock on the trailer, your gloved hand coming back to wrap around the translucent cake plate tucked into your chest. You hear muffled footsteps before the inside door swings open to reveal a beaming Eddie on the other side.

“Hi,” you smile.

You step back to let him open the screen door and he meets you with half a step out, grabbing the plate from you before placing a gentle kiss on your lips that has you desperate for more.

“Hi, sweet girl. C’mon in.”

You follow his warmth, “There’s only half left of the cheesecake. I’m sorry Robin and her family already ate most of it, then I kind of hid it when I realised I didn’t have anything to bring over – I think it tastes pretty good though. And I brought this wine, which is all they had left at the store and it only came in this gigantic bulk size, I think it might be half water–”

You feel Eddie’s smile as he presses his lips to yours again, “It’s okay sweetheart. You didn’t have to bring anything.” “I know, but I wanted to make a good first impression and we both know that I…don’t.”

He chuckles, “Trust me, I was blown away as soon as you stepped outta that car.”

You roll your eyes, snappy reply dying on your tongue when you hear a door open and an older man walks down the short hallway towards you. “Hi, Mr Munson.” Eddie squeezes your shoulder as you step forward with your hand held out and introduce yourself. “Thank you so much for having me, I hope I’m not intruding on your Christmas.”

“Nonsense,” he frowns at you, the resemblance uncanny, and brings you in for a tight hug. “Please call me Wayne, darlin’. Honestly, Ed’s been bouncing off the walls waiting for you to come so you might be able to do me a favour and get him to sit still.”

“We were just watching Gremlins.”

“Oh, I love that film! I didn’t get to appreciate it the other day because I was hungover–I mean…we were busy baking cookies.” You feel Eddie’s chuckle on the side of your face.

“She brought baked goods and wine, Wayne. All for lil’ old us.” He squeezes your shoulder again.

“It’s not any good.” You hold out the cheap bottle to Eddie’s uncle.

“Oh hell, anything you can uncork, uncap or unscrew, I’ll drink it.”

You laugh, shoulders relaxing under Eddie’s subtle massage.

***

You feel light.

Floaty and fuzzy with the laughter coming from beside you, your body sinking into the worn couch and Eddie’s gentle stroking of the back of your hand grounding you in the moment. The Munson’s, like almost everybody else in Hawkins had welcomed you into their home with open arms.

It was Christmas and you were curled up on the couch with a boy who meant something to you. Allowed to be a part of a family if only for a short period.

“So little miss, you headin’ home tomorrow?” You turn to Wayne, who’s sitting in his armchair, eating a piece of the cheesecake you plated up for him with Eddie’s help.

“I was planning on it, but you know the airport gets so busy during the holidays and Robin’s still gonna be here so…I think I might just stay till New Year, actually.”

Eddie’s head snaps from the TV set towards you. He grips your hand a little tighter to get your attention.

“Is that right?”

You turn to him, “Yeah. Are you–are you gonna be around?”

“No,” he shakes his head, frowning in that way that’s starting to make your heart flutter, “I gotta work. Lotta damsels in distress needin’ me to rescue them from the side of the road.” You feel the heat creep up your neck as Wayne rolls his eyes at his nephew.

“Wanna ride shotgun?”

~ THE END ~

Tagging: @eddieslooneymoonie, @micheledawn1975 – thank you for asking!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things au #stranger things fanfiction #towtruck!eddie #steve harrington #robin buckley #promptparty #she writes

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hopefulromances · 1 year ago

Text

Long Time Coming I Chapter Twelve I Haunted

Summary: Being hired as the first female assistant coach in the league was a challenge of it itself. Being a football protigy and University Football Legend was easy enough. Coaching Jamie Tartt was a challenge all on its own.

Word Count: 3K

Warning: Gross ex,West Ham

A/N: Lets learn a little more about readers past eh? Next chapter rlly gets things going I promise!

Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven

West Ham was a big game. A really big game. A game I think each of us were dreading the game. But for me… it was another one of my secrets. Matthew Kristal was a forward on West Ham. Had been for years. And he’d been my boyfriend throughout uni. He was much much older than me but he approached me after a game and told me all the things I wanted to hear. I was special, something he’d never seen before, so mature for my age. All the normal bullshit you hear from guys twice your age.

We dated for years. Actually, until very recently. When I told him I was looking at taking a job at Richmond, he changed. He told me not to, that I should just let him take care of me. Obviously, I’d told him that he was bullshit. I left him after that, and I hadn’t seen him since. He’d texted me several times offering advice or telling me how sorry he was. But thanks to the family I’d found at Richmond, specifically Keeley Jones, I didn’t feel the need to text him back.

But now I’d be face to face with him again. And that’s ignoring the feud with Nate and Rupert that was hanging over everyone’s head. I listened to Roy and Beard squabble over what strategy to do against West Ham. I knew it didn’t matter either way. We’d end up doing whatever Zava wanted, probably a 4-4-2 or 4-5-1. Anything to get him in position to score.

As I watched them uninterested, my phone buzzed on the table. I flipped my phone over and saw a text from an unknown number.

Hey, hope you’re doing well. Looking forward to seeing you this weekend.

I scrolled up but didn’t see any past messages from this person. Luckily the person followed up quickly.

It’s Matt, btw, got a new phone.

God fucking damnnit. Of course, he was texting me now. I looked around, making sure I wasn’t needed before grabbing my phone and rushing out of the room. I sent Keeley a text to see if she’d be coming by the club later, which she was.

“Fuck me,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair.

A commotion from the locker room caught my attention. I shoved my phone in my pocket and decided that whatever was going on in there was the perfect distraction.

“Oi, what’s going on in here?” I demanded as I walked into the room.

“Isaac’s tried to kill me is what’s going on,” Jamie exclaimed, backing away from his captain.

“Guys I think someone ripped this in half,” Bumbercatch’s comment caused me to look over at the wall. In his hand was half of the believe sign, the other half still up on the wall. My eyes widened as I walked over to his side.

“What the hell…” I murmured, taking the piece of the sign from him. It was just a sign, I tried to tell myself. It’s just a sign it doesn’t mean anything. I looked at the boys who started to crowd around us. “Well, just fix it, alright?”

I shoved the sign back into Bumbercatch’s chest before leaving the room. Suddenly it as very hard to breath. But what if was a real sign. Like an actual sign. I mean what are the chances that Matthew texts me and then just a few minutes later the Believe sign falls.

…

I recount the events to Keeley as she arrived at the club. I told her about the sign and Zava and the intensity about the game but hadn’t had the chance to bring up Matt quite yet when we arrived at the locker room.

“But the sign fell, Keeley,” I whined, following her. “Wait, why are we going in here?”

“Oh! I’m visiting Shandy, she’s filming a promo for Bantr!” Keeley told me.

I racked my head trying to remember who Shandy was. “She’s the one who threaten to run around the pitch with her top off, yeah?”

“Well, it was more of a suggestion than a threat.”

“It was definitely a threat.”

We entered the room just as Dani was finishing up his segment. Keeley greeted Shandy as my eyes flited around the room. It was weird seeing it all done up for filming. The boys were excited to do this filming but.I think they had a secret bet going to see who could say the most ridiculous pick up line.

“You don’t know who I am, but I’m looking for someone who likes short walks on the beach so we can spend more time, you know…”

God that was terrible, I chuckled as they called cut. As Van Damme walked out, Jamie was up next. Fuck, I forgot he had to do this. It was the club’s single guys and Jamie was, to the masses, single.

“He’s so fucking hot,” Shandy’s compliment sent a ping of jealousy through me. “What’s his story.”

“Jamie?” Keeley replied. “Oh, he’s so cocky.”

All three of us stared at the monitor as Jamie had hair and make-up work on him. He was smiling kindly and making chat with the makeup artist.

“But I guess you have to be at this level,” Keeley continued, finding herself smiling at him. “But he only thinks about himself.”

I shook my head absentmindedly as I watched him. No, he didn’t. Jamie was kind and funny, and always checking in on me when we were together.

“At least, he used to. But he’s not accountable for his actions and what they do to others.”

Again, I shook my head silently. It was crazy. The different side of Jamie that I’d seen as his girlfriend. A side that no one else got to see. It was all mine.

“Except he is getting better at making apologies. Still… he only thinks with his dick.”

Finally, Jamie looked over at us and I could tell he saw me. I refused to look up over the monitor as a cheeky smile came over his lips. I bit my lip, trying to hard not to have any kind of reaction.

“And yet, I don’t think he’s seen anyone in ages.”

I couldn’t help it anymore; I looked up over the monitor and saw Jamie staring right at me. I chewed on my cheek, trying to stave off the blush. He sent me a wink before turning back to the make-up artist.

“I just wanna know if I can bang him, babe.”

Fuck, I forgot Shandy was even there. I frowned and looked over at her, a heat in my eyes I wasn’t used to. So this was jealousy was like. I was really willing to risk it all if she made any moves towards Jamie.

“Oh. I don’t know,” Keeley answered. I still hadn’t taken my eyes of Shandy, watching as she stared hungrily at Jamie. “You should probably as him, it’s his dick.”

I ran my tongue along the space between my teeth and bottom lip, trying desperately not to say anything.

“Alright, I should probably be getting going,” I announced, deciding that this was too much for me.

“Wait, didn’t you have something you wanted to-“

“Nope, I’ll see you later Keels.”

I turn around before she can say anything else, not really wanting to stay in that room any longer than I had to. I realized that there was only one person I wanted to talk to about this Matt situation, and he was currently sitting in the locker room getting his make-up done for a dating app commercial.

…

Jamie and I sat in is backyard. He had these lounging chairs set up in his backyard where we could sit together while I caught up on work or read. He had a hand running up and down my leg as he read The Beautiful and Damned.

I looked over at him as he read peacefully. I was hesitant to talk to him, worried about what he would say or how he would react or what it would do to us to bring up Matt. I’d managed to make it two whole years without even thinking about him but with one little text his control over my life was back.

“Remember how you asked why I stopped playing football?”

Jamie glanced up from his book over at me. “What?”

“Do you know Matt Kristal?”

Jamie furrowed his eyebrows and put down his book, shrugging. “He’s on West Ham, yeah? One of their defenders?”

I nodded, looking down at my chair, picking at a piece of plastic that was sticking out. “He and I dated for a while when I was in uni.”

Jamie’s face should be in a museum. It was a mixture of curiosity, confusion, and was that… jealousy? He turned to look at my fully, his eyes looking far too serious.

“What? Really?” He asked. “Isn’t he like… nearly 40?”

“Yup.” I nodded, still not able to really face Jamie. “He came to watch me play in uni. Told me all those nice things like… you’re talented and mature and whatever.” I shook my head remember the first time I met him. “Anyways, we dated for about… 3 years?”

“Fuck off,” Jamie scoffed, putting the book to the side.

“I wish I were joking but he… he was quite the charismatic person,” I told him solemnly. “Anyways, when it came time for me to graduate… I told him I wanted to play professionally and he… he told me I shouldn’t. That there was no glory in women’s football.” I scrunched my nose. “So, he lined up a job as West Ham’s kitman and I worked there until… until I saw the job at Richmond.” I moved my head side to side, considering all my words. “And he told me not to take it.” I laughed humorlessly. “Told me I’d be making a mistake. Well, he broke up with me after that. Told me I would crash and burn along with all of Richmond. Then I’d come running back to him.”

I stared at that piece of plastic I was picking, chewing the skin off my lip. I hadn’t talked about Matt with anyone since I came to Richmond. That time in my life was filed away, along with my father. But the people at Richmond had a way of opening me up like no one else.

“What a cocksleeve.” Jamie’s response drew a laugh from me. “I mean really. What a mingin’ asstawt. Got a right cop on, don’t he.” With every ridiculous insult I found myself laughing harder and harder. Despite the tension leaving my chest slowly, I still found myself unable to look at me. That is until Jamie’s hand slide down to mind, preventing me from tearing up the chair. “Hey, look at me.”

I pursed my lips and forced my head to turn to face him. He had an eyebrow raised at me as he smirked. “Your better for it without him. He was holding you back ‘cause he knew you were better than him. Kristal… I mean he’s been on West Ham for a decade now… barely made a mark on the league.”

“Well, he’s no Jamie Tartt, that’s for sure,” I commented, smiling.

“Hey, I’m serious,” Jamie sat up and pulled me, so our legs were slotted with each other. I was caught off guard by his serious demeanor. “You’re better than him. I promise.”

It wasn’t like Jamie to ignore a compliment. My mouth opened slightly as a breath of disbelief came out of my mouth. Both of his hands rested on my knees, rubbing soft comforting circles into them. I blinked repeatedly, shaking my head. I was getting off topic.

“I just… I wanted to let you know that he texted me about seeing me this weekend.”

“HA! Like that’s gonna happen,” Jamie laughed, shaking his head.

“Yeah, no it won’t but… I just wanted to let you know,” I shrugged. “And I know there’s a lot riding on this game so I don’t mean to add to that but I-“

“No, thank you for telling me. Now I know who to score on the most.” He reached over and grabbed my waist, hoisting me up before laying down with me on top of him. “You wanna have sex?”

I would never get used to that. But I merely answered his question by leaning down to kiss Jamie into the chair. I felt lighter. Knowing I had gotten it off my chest. Even if it did nothing, I had Jamie’s support and that was enough for me.

…

The game was a mess. The first half was bad enough but after the half… it was like an entirely new team. They were angry, something about Beard and Roy showing them a video, I wasn’t paying attention. I was too busy avoiding Matt like the plague. But luckily for me, he seemed to get the hint and didn’t approach me at all. That was, until after the game.

I was leaving the locker room to head towards the bus when he finally caught up to me.

“(Y/N)!”

I heard his voice before I saw him. But when I did, I wasn’t surprised. He hadn’t changed at all. He looked the exact same as he had those years ago when I’d walked out of his house with him screaming at me that I would be nothing without him. I let him catch up to me.

“Some match, eh?” Matt chuckled, a cruel smirk on his face. I didn’t respond, not wanting to say something I regret. “Hey, why don’t we get a drink or something? Catch up, for old times’ sake?”

“I’m good.” I shut him down quickly. I knew what that meant. It meant that he would take me out, get me tipsy then convince me to have sex with him and there was no way that was happening.

He frowned at me. That same disappointed frown I’d gotten all too used to when we were together. “Look (Y/N), I don’t want to try anything I just want to-“

“Is there something you wanted to say, or can I get back to my team?” Again, I really don’t want to hear what he has to say. I don’t really want to hear his sorry apology or whatever manipulation tactic he could draw up.

“I just wanted to say sorry, okay?” He pulled his most genuine face that he could, but I just shook my head. Nonetheless, he persisted. “I was a dick, and you were right. You’ve done great at Richmond but listen… you could do better. I bet I could get Rupert to hire you here… at West Ham.”

Jamie emerged from the locker room, walking towards the bus with his head low. He was pissed. Pissed at the game, pissed at Zava, pissed at Nate. The whole game had gone wrong so fast. If only he’d made that goal in the first half but, of course, he whiffed it, leaving room for Zava to take some glory.

When he walked down the hall, he immediately spied (Y/N) talking with Matt. Now he was pissed at that. He could tell she was uncomfortable. Body science. The way she griped her bag and frowned at him as he chatted at her. He needed to get her out of there and fast but without drawing suspicion. He glanced around to see who else was there. Colin was exiting the locker room just at that moment, busy on his phone.

“Oi, Colin.” He nodded over to where (Y/N) and Matt were talking. “Why’s (Y/N) talking to Matt Kristal?”

Colin looked over where he was pointing, and his eyes darkened. Just as he thought, (Y/N) probably told Colin about her past.

“Fuck if I know, give me a second.” And Colin was off going to interrupt them.

Jamie tried to walk off slowly, watching as Colin approached her. He put an arm around her, taking Matt’s attention off of her. (Y/N)’s face immediately flooded with relief with Colin arrived. Jamie felt better knowing that Colin was there to support her. He wasn’t sure what they were talking about but all he wanted was to get home and be with (Y/N) somewhere they could be together.

…

When Jamie arrived home (Y/N) was already there. She was standing, seemingly stuck in her own brain staring at the wall. Jamie frowned and walked up to her, wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing her cheek. She gasped and jumped, finally broken from her trance.

“Fuck me!” She shouted, relaxing back into Jamie. “You scared me.”

“Sorry, love,” He mused against her cheek. “Just finally glad to be able to hold you.” She smiled though it didn’t quite meet her eyes. “What was he talking to you about?”

“Who?”

“Kritsal?”

“You saw that?”

“Course! Who do you think sent Colin over?” Jamie snickered, pulling away from her and walking over to the kitchen. “Do you want some tea?”

“Wait, wait, wait,” she followed Jamie as he began taking out the kettle. “You saw Max talking to me and didn’t come over to intervene?”

Jamie shrugged, taking out two mugs. “I’m making you tea. And yeah, I figured Colin knew more about the situation and he did so, crisis avoided.” The look she gave Jamie was almost heartbreakingly beautiful. There was so much love and passion in her eyes that is shocked Jamie a little bit. “What… did I do something wrong?”

“Oh, Jamie.” She pulled him down by his neck and kissed him. Jamie let out a noise of shock before quickly setting down the mugs so he could wrap his arms around her. He held her close. While he was strong enough not to intervene earlier, he wanted her to know that he had her back and that she was his.

Just as much as he was hers.

Tag List: Taglist:@heletsmelovehim @higherthanheroes @ajax-petropolus-wife @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @optimisticsandwichgladiator @kno-way-home @sleepy-time @wigglegiggle @skewedcherries @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog @snubug @rana030 @ems-alexandra @jaymum

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso #ted lasso show #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt fanfiction #long time coming

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marvelmaniac715 · 1 year ago

Text

I put this on AO3 but you might like it here as well:

Wiggly stumbled into the Black and White, coated in ash. With a bemused grin, he observed:

“Well, that went well.”

His four brothers looked up from the table they were playing ‘Go Fish’ at. Nibbly asked (whilst munching on a playing card):

“Wait, did it actually go well or is this sarcasm again?”

Wiggly frowned and said:

“It actually went well, I baited Russia into nuking Hatchetfield, giving us lots of new fwendy-wends to torment down here in the Black.”

Wiggly’s four brothers cheered before Tinky suddenly frowned and asked:

“Wait a minute… you killed Ted?”

Shrugging, Wiggly replied:

“Yes, what’s it to you?”

Tinky burst into tears, wailing:

“He’s mine! You promised you wouldn’t poach!”

As this happened, Blinky stared at Tinky and Wiggly over his glasses, musing:

“So nice to get the whole family together again… got any threes?”

Pokey shook his head before adding:

“I for one think our elder brother put on a marvellous show - I’m glad to see the jingle I wrote did not go to waste.”

Tinky pointed accusingly at Pokey and exclaimed:

“Paul got killed too! He was the star of your show, aren’t you mad about it?!”

Pokey’s expression soured. He crossed his arms and glared at Wiggly, muttering darkly:

“I hadn’t thought about that. You owe me a Paul.”

Wiggly shrugged, brushing this demand off with a breezy:

“Oh, just steal one from a different timeline - there’s one where he’s a cat so he’s already submissive.”

Pokey sighed, pointing out:

“It won’t work if he isn’t secretly headstrong, there’s no conflict otherwise. It’s like you’ve never seen a musical in your life.”

Wiggly rolled his eyes, replying:

“I haven’t, that’s the point.”

With this, the Black and White descended into uproar, with four out of the five brothers yelling at each other about their various grievances, including certain Hatchetfield citizens being murdered and ‘all the good food being destroyed’ (that was Nibbly’s rather short-lived complaint). The only brother who wasn’t yelling was Blinky, who had retreated into a shadowy corner to watch the brawl.

After around half an hour of fighting, Webby materialised next to Blinky in the Black, laughing at the childish squabbling. She and Blinky exchanged light pleasantries before settling down to watch the arguments over the fate of this timeline’s Hatchetfield. Finally, Webby turned to her brother and asked concernedly:

“Wait, you’re their scout, aren’t you? Aren’t you gonna tell our brothers that I’m here?”

Blinky shrugged, not even taking his attention off of the fight as he replied:

“Nah, babe, I live for the drama, stay as long as you want.”

By the time the rest of their brothers noticed that Blinky wasn’t joining in with the fighting, Webby had already said goodbye to Blinky and taken her leave. All in all, a typical day in the Black and White, with the only difference being that unlike every other time the siblings played card games together, Nibbly only ate one card.

#team starkid #starkid #hatchetfield #hatchetverse #lords in black #wiggly #pokey #tinky #blinky #nibbly #webby #black friday musical #wiggog y'wrath #pokotho #t’noy karaxis #bliklotep #nibblenephim #crack #fanficfion

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cal-daisies-and-briars · 1 month ago

Note

I think you got bitten by a writing duckling bug tonight so in case that's the case...

🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞

There seems to be a sudden Duckling fever in my inbox, yes!

90 for Miss Dove:

---

Chris considers this. He grimaces a little, like he’s just realized how embarrassing it is for him to be squabbling with a tiny child.

“Plus,” Buck says. “If you think you’re a little insecure because of her, think of how she must feel about you.”

Christopher frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Well, think about it from her shoes, Chris. She’s never had a home or a family before. She’s scared of losing this one. And suddenly you’re home, and she knows that I loved you first. What do you think she feels?”

Chris sighs.

“Yeah, okay,” he concedes. “I get it.”

“She’s a good kid, Chris. You’ll like her,” Buck assures him.

“I guess I at least have to get used to her, anyway,” he shrugs.

Buck smiles. “At least.”

▪️▪️▪️

When they go back inside, Eddie and Dove are sitting on the couch, and Dove is showing him something in an illustrated kid’s encyclopedia about animals that Buck recently bought her. She’s info-dumping like she’s related to Buck, and Eddie is listening patiently, responding to her impromptu lesson on reptiles with enthusiasm. Buck exhales. He was right. Eddie could calm her down while he dealt with Chris.

They’re a good team at this, too.

When the door shuts behind Buck and Chris, Eddie turns to look at them. His eyes are wide and concerned. Then he sees the more relaxed expressions on their faces, and settles a bit.

“Hey guys,” he says. “All okay?”

Buck nods. “I think so. Chris?”

“Yep,” Chris agrees. “Um, Dove?”

Dove cranes her head around to look at him. She blinks those big gray eyes, like she’s surprised to have been addressed.

“I got a new game on my Switch the other day. You might like it,” Chris says. “Do you want me to show you how to play?”

Eddie looks at Buck like he’s about to be sainted for his miracle works.

Dove takes a moment to think through her decision, like she’s not quite sure the offer is sincere. Then, she shrugs.

“Okay.”

Chris walks over to sit with her. Eddie gives him his spot and walks over to where Buck is standing.

How? He mouths at Buck.

Buck just shrugs.

“If he asks you about the mechanics of babies in toilets later,” Buck whispers very quietly. “Remember it was for the greater good.”

Eddie blinks. “You know what? I’m not questioning it.”

“For the best,” Buck advises.

“If they’re okay,” Eddie says. “Maybe we should talk?”

No fucking kidding.

“Yeah,” Buck agrees. “We probably should.”

▪️▪️▪️

They sit at the kitchen table with a beer each. There’s a few minutes where they’re too nervous to actually get into it, for fear of the kids overhearing. But then Dove’s voice rings out with laughter from the other room, clearly delighted at something Chris has said, and they both visibly relax. Those two are going to be just fine.

Eddie seems to agree, because he takes a steeling sip of beer, and starts them off.

“Thank you,” he begins. “For giving me the time I asked for. I know it probably wasn’t easy.”

Torture, actually. But it doesn’t seem necessary to carry on about it.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Buck asks. “I would have… I mean, you know I would have supported you here, right?”

Eddie nods. “Of course I do. It’s not that.”

“Then why?”

Eddie takes a deep breath. “There were a few things I needed to do, that… Well, that kind of scared the shit out of me. I wasn’t sure how any of it was going to go.”

“Okay, uh, like what?” Buck asks.

“Like telling my kid he had to come home,” Eddie says. “Which had two possible outcomes, both of which included fighting with my mother.”

“He wanted to come home though,” Buck says. Based on their conversation on the porch.

#daisies and briars writes #we won't look back fic

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chicgeekgirl89 · 7 months ago

Text

Chapter 8 is live on AO3!

“I’m telling you, I saw its eyes turn red before it charged at me!” Mateo cries.

“Probie,” Paul rolls his eyes. “It’s a pig. Not some sort of hell spawn from one of your superhero movies. Its eyes can’t turn red.”

“Not a pig,” Judd grunts from behind his magazine.

Mateo gives them all a superior look. “I know what I saw.”

“What I saw was you running faster than I’ve ever seen anybody run in their whole life. I don’t think your feet were even touching the ground,” Judd says, making them all laugh.

The javelina call is definitely going down as one for the books. T.K. and Paul had rescued the students from the closet while Marjan, Judd, and Mateo had put out a small fire the javelinas had started in the dorm kitchen. How they managed it with nothing but hooves and tusks is a mystery, but it was licking at the ceiling by the time they got to it. Apparently somewhere along the way Mateo had had a run in with one of the animals and every time he tells the story it gets dramatically more intense.

“At least it wasn’t a gator,” Marjan says, setting her book on her lap.

“You think a gator is worse than a demon pig?” T.K. asks, feigning disinterest by playing Candy Crush on his phone, but secretly eager to rile his teammates up as much as possible.

“Not a pig!” Judd says again, his tone full of long suffering.

“Um yeah,” Marjan says. “Gators can weigh up to a thousand pounds, they’re incredibly fast, and they have between seventy-five and eight teeth. And if a gator gets you, it’s not letting go. Pigs are just…pigs.”

“With tusks as long as my arm!” Mateo protests.

“Okay do not make me say this again!” Judd says. “Javelinas ain’t pigs! They’re an entirely separate family of animals!”

“Why are you guys yelling about pigs?” Tim asks as he and Nancy walk into the room.

“Yo, you’re not going to believe this call we went on!” Mateo says, taking a deep breath to start telling his harrowing tale for the tenth time.

“Give it a rest Mateo,” Paul tells him, and he deflates, sending her a glare.

“Where’d you all get to?” Judd asks as Tim and Nancy sit down on the sofa.

“Mugging gone wrong downtown,” Nancy says. “Victim probably would have died if not for an off duty cop who took the mugger down. Guy had a knife though, it was messy.”

T.K. is only half listening as he works his way through a particularly difficult level of candy themed fun. But the mention of a cop perks his ears up a little bit.

“You guys were gone awhile,” Paul says, checking his watch.

“The cop was bleeding pretty badly. It took us a long time to get it stopped,” Tim says.

“Anybody we know?” Marjan asks.

Nancy shakes her head. “Some guy named Reyes? I’ve never met him before.”

The world tilts. Air rushes out of his lungs. “What did you say?” T.K. asks, every eye in the room turning to him at his sudden question.

“Cop named Reyes got stabbed during a mugging,” Tim says, then he turns to look at Mateo. “I’d actually like to hear the pig story.”

Judd slaps his paper down onto his lap. “Javelinas!!”

The room devolves into good natured squabbling, but T.K. isn’t listening anymore.

Reyes could be anybody.

But somehow he knows it’s not.

He gets up abruptly and takes himself through the first door that offers privacy, which happens to be the shower room. He sinks down onto the bench that runs through the middle of the space and uses shaky fingers to find Carlos’ most recent text.

Officer Hottie- Carlos

[9:26pm] I’ll pick you up so you don’t have to.

T.K.

[9:27pm] My hero.

T.K.

[10:52pm] This is going to sound crazy, but are you okay?

He waits and waits, the minutes agonizingly long. There’s no response. Not even a read receipt. But it’s late. Maybe Carlos is sleeping. Or with his family. There are a thousand reasons he might not be responding to T.K.’s text.

And yet he can’t shake the feeling of dread that poured over him the second Nancy said Carlos’ last name.

The locker room door opens and Paul wanders in. “There you are,” he says. “Can you believe Mateo is still going on about those javelina things? It’s like he’s never seen a wild animal before. He’s lived in Texas his whole life but I’m more of a country boy than he is.”

“Mm,” T.K. says, still staring at his phone, willing Carlos to text back.

“You okay?” Paul asks as he reaches for his shaving kit. “You look worried.”

T.K. sets his phone down and tries to get his heart to stop beating so fast. “The officer that Tim and Nancy just worked on? Reyes is Carlos’ last name.”

“Carlos like, six-pack abs, police officer that you’re obsessed with, Carlos?” Paul asks.

“Yeah. We were supposed to go out yesterday, but he had a work thing come up. And now he’s not responding to my text.”

“Well it is late,” Paul says.

“Yeah.” T.K. stares morosely at his darkened screen.

“You haven’t even been on a date yet, right?” Paul asks.

“Not for lack of trying,” T.K. says with a sigh.

“You’re pretty worried about someone you’ve met in real life for all of ten minutes,” Paul says. “I’m not judging,” he adds quickly when T.K. scowls. “Just trying to figure out where your head’s at.”

T.K. shrugs. “I…really like him. He’s nice. He never makes me feel like I’m bothering him.” He looks up. “You know he sent me and my dad coffee after my dad’s accident? Who does that? Sends coffee to a guy he only knows through a phone screen?”

“A guy whose mama raised him right,” Paul says. “And who clearly likes you a lot.”

“But how is that possible?” T.K. asks, feeling slightly desperate. “It’s just texting. And like, two phone calls. It’s weird that I feel like I know him from that, right?”

“It’s not weird. It’s romantic,” Paul says. “You know, people used to send love letters back and forth all the time. Entire relationships were written out on pieces of paper. They didn’t hear each other’s voices or see pictures, they just wrote down everything they felt and hoped it made it through the mail. This is the twenty-first century version of that.”

T.K. hadn’t thought about it that way. “Well, that makes it seem nicer,” he says, his voice slightly grumbly over the fact that Paul is making sense instead of joining him in the anxiety spiral.

He checks his phone again. Still nothing.

“If you’re that worried, ask Tim or Nancy if they got the guys’ first name,” Paul says. “I really think you’re stressing for nothing though. This is Texas. There have to be at least a few other guys in the APD with that last name.”

“Yeah, maybe,” T.K. says.

But he only knows one who would go after a mugger while off duty.

The rest of the team wanders in to get ready for bed, but T.K. heads back out to toward the rigs. Tim and Nancy are restocking their inventory. “I just think if they’re going to call it America’s Got Talent they should have some talented people on,” Tim is saying.

“You wouldn’t know talent if it bit you on the ass,” Nancy scoffs. “Did you see that choir from South Africa? They were amazing.”

“Isn’t it all fake though? Aren’t they lip syncing?”

Nancy makes an outraged noise and T.K. decides to cut in before things get even more heated. “Hey guys,” he says.

“Oh, hey T.K.,” Tim replies.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt I—“ He hesitates, uncharacteristically nervous. He realizes how stupid this is going to sound. And Tim and Nancy are part of the firehouse, but he doesn’t know them super well. Paramedic schedules are different than fire and it means their team feels a little separated from the rest of the group.

“Everything okay?” Nancy asks. It’s clear from her face she thinks he might be sick or hurt in some way.

He’s already here, he might as well go for it. “The cop you worked on during your last call. You said his name was Reyes?”

Tim nods. “Yeah that’s what he said.”

“Did you happen to get his first name?”

“Um, yeah, I think we put it in our notes.” Nancy reaches for a clipboard and runs her finger down the page.

T.K.’s heart is so loud he can hear it in his ears, feel it throbbing in every part of his body. This is so dumb. The chances are so small, and even if it is Carlos they barely know each other. There’s no reason for him to be panicking like thi—

“Carlos,” Nancy says.

His heart plummets into his shoes and he swallows hard. It’s his Carlos. Of course it is.

“T.K.?” Tim’s voice sounds a little distant and a lot concerned. He takes a step toward him. “Are you all right?”

“I—“ He doesn’t know what he is. ‘All right’ is definitely not it though.

“Dude you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Nancy says. “Do you want to sit down?”

He sucks in a breath, clenching his fists until his nails bite into his palms, using the pain to ground himself. “Was he—how bad was it?”

“I mean, there was a lot of blood,” Nancy says, looking at him curiously, like she’s trying to figure out what exactly is happening here. “The mugger got him pretty good. But he was stable when we dropped him off.”

Stable. Stable is good. But stable doesn’t always stay that way. Especially not when you’ve been stabbed. “Okay, thanks,” he says. His voice sounds wooden even in his own ears.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Tim asks.

“I’ll be fine,” T.K. tells them, then he turns and walks away without another word. He pulls out his phone. There’s still no reply so he texts again.

T.K.

[11:07pm] Please let me know that you’re okay when you can.

There have to be other Carlos Reyeses around. T.K. repeats this to himself over and over as he brushes his teeth, then continues the mantra as he lays on his bunk in the dark. It doesn’t help. He doesn’t sleep. They don’t even get a call to help him take his mind off of it. It’s the quietest night they’ve had in months, something he’d usually be grateful for, but tonight his brain won’t quit. The hours tick by without a response and the longer it goes on the more certain T.K. becomes that Carlos is in trouble.

By the time their shift ends in the morning he feels a little manic. Reckless. More like New York T.K. than Austin T.K.. There’s an itching under his skin, a buzz, the desperate need to do something.

“Yo, you wanna grab breakfast?” Mateo asks, slinging his backpack over his should as they head for the parking lot. “This new place has bomb chorizo breakfast burritos. Life changing bro.”

“I can’t,” T.K. says quickly. He’s not sure why he says it. His schedule is clear. The only thing waiting for him at home is his dad who has probably repainted the master bedroom and built a new doghouse for Buttercup by now. His therapist would likely tell him it’s better to be around people when he feels like this than to go stew by himself. He should say yes. But he can’t.

“Cool, catch you next time!” Mateo gives him a little wave while T.K. throws his bag into the back of his dad’s car.

He’s driving before he’s fully formulated a plan and that’s probably why he ends up in Carlos’ neighborhood. He’d mentioned it a few weeks ago, the first time they’d tried to go on a date, in relation to a couple good coffee shops.

T.K. is aware in the back of his mind that this is stalker behavior. But he’s not planning to do anything. He’s just driving. He doesn’t know Carlos’ house number anyway.

At least, not until he passes a condo with a blue Camaro in the driveway. That has to be his, right? How many people with flawlessly washed and polished blue Camaros can there possibly be on this street?

He puts his car in park, chewing on the inside of his lip as he considers his options. This is a bad idea, but T.K. has never met a bad idea he didn’t at least seriously consider. And he can already tell that today he’s going to let his impulsivity win.

It’s better than drugs, right?

He’s always been an expert at ignoring the voice of reason, so it’s easy to tune it out as he walks across the street and rings the doorbell of a random house on a random street to possibly see a random man he’s barely even met.

The person who answers the door is not Carlos. “Hi?” the woman says, her dark eyes looking him up and down curiously. “Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for Carlos Reyes?” T.K. says. “Is this—does he live here?”

“Yeah, he does,” she says, those eyes narrowing, clearly trying to figure out what’s going on. “Who are you?”

“I’m T.K.,” he says.

Her eyes go wide and she immediately slams the door shut in his face. He blinks in surprise as she starts speaking in loud, obviously dramatic Spanish on the other side. He’s just about to slowly back away and pretend like this never happened, when the door is wrenched open again and a different woman with the same dark eyes stares out at him.

“You’re T.K.?” she asks.

“Yes?” What the hell is going on? Carlos never mentioned living with roommates or…T.K.’s stomach lurches. Oh god. What if one of these women is his girlfriend?

What if they’re both his girlfriends?

“Oh my god, it’s so nice to meet you,” she says. “I’m Luisa. Carlos’ sister.”

His knees nearly give out in relief. Of course Carlos doesn’t have secret girlfriends. He’s gay. “Oh, hi,” T.K. says, trying to recover from his momentary panic and the absolutely insane line of thinking it caused.

“Luisa! Invite him and close that door! You’re letting all the air conditioning out!” a third voice calls from inside.

She gives him a wry look. “Come in.”

He steps through the doorway and his eyes fall on a small, dark living room with a kitchen extending behind it. The first woman (that she’s also Carlos’ sister is so obvious now) is standing next to the couch, and the woman who belongs to the third voice is in the kitchen, a large pile of vegetables on the island counter in front of her.

“T.K. this is my sister Ana,” Luisa says. “She’s going to apologize for slamming the door in your face.”

“Yes, sorry about that,” Ana says, offering no explanation as to why it happened and studying him in a way that makes him feel like he’s being inspected by a military officer.

“And that’s our mom, Andrea,” Luisa nods toward the kitchen.

“Hola!” she calls back, waving a very large chef’s knife at him before returning to chopping. “You’re Carlos’ friend?”

“Um, yes,” T.K. says, unsure of how much Carlos’ family knows about his dating life and unwilling to reveal anything further to them.

Ana’s eyes gleam and she says something in Spanish that has Luisa sending her a cutting glare and sharp response, also in Spanish. Andrea’s eyebrows rise but she keeps chopping away.

When Luisa looks back at him her eyes soften again. “It was really nice of you to come by. I’m so sorry, but Carlos is sleeping right now and after last night he needs his rest.”

“You can stay though,” Ana says. “We’d love to get to know one of Carlos’ friends.”

“Yes, T.K. would you like something to drink?” Andrea is already setting down the knife and turning for the refrigerator. “There’s iced tea, I can make you coffee, or it looks like Carlitos has some sparkling waters in here.”

There’s such an air of family in the room that it’s a little overwhelming. He feels like he’s intruding on a private moment. “No, thank you,” he says. “Is Carlos okay? I’ve been trying to get ahold of him since last night and he hasn’t been responding.”

The mood in the room changes immediately. “You don’t know?” Ana asks. “I thought that’s why you came over here?”

Now he feels completely lost and more confused than every. “I—“

“No, he doesn’t know.”

A voice, scratchy with sleep floats down the stairs and seconds later Carlos appears. He’s moving slowly, one hand gripping the banister for support. His brow is furrowed in pain and he looks a couple shades paler than T.K. remembers. There’s a dark, purpling bruise along his jaw, shadows under his eyes, and his hair is mussed like he’s been sleeping.

Color spirals out into the room as T.K.’s eyes drink him in, his heart lifting in relief even though it’s clear that Carlos isn’t one hundred percent well.

“Hi,” T.K. says.

Carlos’ eyes, the ones he shares with his mother and sisters, lock onto T.K.’s and the pained furrow in his brow smooths out. “Hi,” he says quietly.

“Ay, Carlitos!” Andrea moves toward him, meeting him at the bottom of the stairs and gently taking his arm. “You go back up to bed this minute!”

“I’ve been in bed all morning,” Carlos tells her. “I’m fine.”

“You almost bled out last night. Get back upstairs,” Ana says in agreement with her mother.

He rolls his eyes. “I did not almost bleed out.”

Andrea clucks her tongue. “Thirty-seven stitches is close enough,” she says. “Bed.”

“A couch and a bed are basically the same thing,” Carlos argues.

“Ha!” Ana scoffs. “This leather monstrosity is barely even a couch. It’s so uncomfortable it’s a wonder you don’t have back problems from sitting on it.”

They continue to argue and T.K. once again feels like he should slip out the door. He doesn’t belong here. This is family business.

He clears his throat. “I should probably go—“

“No!” Carlos lurches toward him and then lets out an involuntary swear of pain that has all three women lunging in his direction.

He ends up ushered onto the couch where Andrea begins shoving pillows everywhere she can fit them, cushioning his head, his back, and his legs. Meanwhile Luisa sprints into the kitchen for a glass of water and a prescription bottle, and Ana grabs her phone claiming she’s going to call Carlos’ doctor immediately.

“Oh my god, get off of me!” Carlos grouses, using a tone that only a boy who is being pestered by his female family members can summon. T.K. has used it on his mom a time or two, so he’s familiar. “I just moved too fast!”

“Did you tear your stitches?” Andrea asks, reaching for the zipper on his hoodie as if she’s going to check.

“No!” he says, pushing her hand away. “Honestly the three of you are acting like I’m a child!”

“You called us in the middle of the night from the hospital,” Ana tells him. “This is what you get.”

“Okay,” Luisa says, obviously the peace keeper of the group. “I think we should give Carlos a little space. Maybe he and T.K. would like to visit for a bit? Why don’t we go upstairs and change Carlos’ sheets?”

“It takes three of us to change the sheets?” Ana asks.

“Ana callate.” Luisa grips her arm and pulls her toward the stairs.

“Ow!” Ana says sharply

“I’m barely touching you!”

“Your fingers are like bird talons!”

Andrea heads back into the kitchen and fills a second glass with water, setting it down by T.K. with a smile and then pressing a kiss to Carlos’ forehead. “Call if you need anything,” she tells him.

“Thanks Mom,” Carlos says as she heads for the stairs.

He sighs and then his eyes meet T.K.’s and the annoyance melts off of him. “Hi,” he says again, a little sheepish this time.

“Hi,” T.K. echoes.

“Ana thinks you’re too hot for me,” Carlos tells him, a wry smile twisting on his face.

“Is that what she said when she slammed the door in my face?”

“Yes. You’re too hot for me and I’m stupid for not doing something about it faster.” He shakes his head. “I’m so sorry about them.”

“No, I’m sorry,” T.K. replies. “I didn’t meant to interrupt anything I just…our paramedics came back from a run last night and said they’d had a patient named Carlos Reyes. I texted you, but you didn’t answer.”

Carlos sighs. “Yeah my phone got smashed during the altercation,” he says. “And honestly, I wasn’t in great shape to text anyway.” He looks at T.K. curiously. “How did you find my condo?”

Embarrassment colors his cheeks. “You’d mentioned the neighborhood at one point so I…drove around until I saw your car in the driveway.”

Carlos’ face breaks out into an incredulous smile. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. Sorry. Creeper status,” he says. “I was worried. What happened?”

Carlos fills him in, delivering the story in a way that indicates he’s spent many years writing detailed incident reports. T.K. winces a couple times, his own mind triaging the injuries Carlos lists and mentally field treating them with his dual EMT certification.

“They stitched me up at the hospital,” Carlos finishes. “I called my mom and she called my sisters. I didn’t expect all three of them to descend on me like this, but here they are. I think my dad would be here too except he’s taking it upon himself to breathe down APD’s neck and get this guy interrogated and brought up on charges.”

“Fun,” T.K. says. “I didn’t know your dad was APD.”

“Texas Ranger actually,” Carlos says. “I went into the family business. Sort of.” He shifts a little and then freezes, pain all over his face.

“What’s wrong?” T.K. asks, immediately sitting forward in his chair, his work mode activated.

Carlos lets out a shaky breath. “I told my mom I didn’t tear my stitches but…it kind of feels like I might have,” he says.

“I’m a dual certified EMT,” T.K. says, concern blasting through his veins. “I can take a look if you want.”

“Oh, no you don’t have to…” Carlos looks awkward now in addition to the pain still creasing the lines of his face.

He did not come all the way over here just to watch this man bleed out on his own couch. “I don’t mind,” T.K. says. “It could save you a trip to the ER.” He glances toward the stairs. “And the wrath of your mom and sisters.”

Carlos considers this for a second and then nods, clumsily unzipping the hoodie he’s wearing, pulling it to the side to reveal a large white bandage covering the left side of his ribcage. “It’s just the ones on my chest. The ones in my arm feel okay.”

“I’m going to be honest,” T.K. says as he sits down on the end of the couch so he can get a better look, “this is not how I thought seeing your abs in person for the first time was going to go.”

Carlos lets out a sharp laugh and then groans. “Oh god, don’t make me laugh,” he says, still smiling despite the pain in his eyes. “Also, fair warning, even though they’re upstairs, my mom and sisters are definitely listening to every word we say. So speak carefully.”

T.K. grins. “So I shouldn’t anything about how I think you’re incredibly sexy?”

Carlos blushes. “Probably not.”

T.K. winks. “Got it. I’ll keep that to myself then.”

He sits forward, using gentle fingers to examine Carlos’ bandage. “I don’t see any sign of significant bleeding. Do you want me to take it off and double check?”

Carlos hesitates. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

T.K. shakes his head. “Where’s your first aid kit?”

“In the powder room, under the sink.”

T.K. retrieves it and pulls on a pair of gloves before removing the bandage. He grimaces at the neat row of black stitches that follow a jagged line of torn flesh along Carlos’ ribcage and down his abdomen. “I am going to personally strangle the person that messed with these abs,” he mutters in annoyance.

Carlos snorts. “That’s the second time you’ve threatened to murder someone in like three weeks. I feel like I have a duty to report you.”

“Sorry officer,” T.K. says with a smile. “This looks good. Nothing seems loose and there’s some bleeding, but nothing excessive, which is normal. You probably just pulled them a little bit.”

Carlos winces. “So gross.”

“You get used to it.”

T.K. tapes on a new bandage then disposes of the old one and the gloves while Carlos zips himself back up.

“I don’t know if you’re into herbs and supplements,” T.K. says when he returns. “But my dad had me on a pretty strict regimen after I got shot and they definitely didn’t hurt.”

“That would be great,” Carlos says.

“I can—oh. Well I was going to say I’ll text them to you, but I guess not if your phone is broken. I’ll send them by carrier pigeon?”

“Pony express might be better in Texas,” Carlos says with a grin.

“Forget it. I’ll just bring some by tomorrow. If that’s okay?” T.K. says.

“Yes,” Carlos says immediately. “Please. I’m stuck here for at least a week and then it’s desk duty until these things come out.”

“Desk duty sucks,” T.K. commiserates.

“We need to reschedule our date too. I don’t think my mom is going to let me out of the house for a few days,” Carlos tells him. “Maybe next week sometime?”

“I’m actually out of town,” T.K. says. “Heading back to New York to see my mom.”

“Oh, nice,” Carlos says.

They compare calendars and are disappointed to discover that between T.K.’s trip and work they don’t have a free day another three weeks. “Well I guess javelinas can’t keep us apart, but the people in charge of the APD and AFD master schedules can,” T.K. says in disappointment.

“Yeah,” Carlos says, looking equally morose.

“Hey!”

A voice hisses at them from the staircase and Luisa peeks down. “Are you two almost done? I can’t hold them up here for much longer. T.K. if you don’t want a full interrogation I suggest you get out of here soon.”

T.K. chuckles and stands up. “I’ll take that as my cue.”

“Thanks for coming,” Carlos says softly, his eyes shining in a way that makes T.K.’s heart do summersaults.

“Do you have a piece of paper somewhere?” T.K. asks.

Carlos directs him to a drawer in the kitchen where he grabs a pad of sticky notes and a pen, writing for a minute before handing the top sticky note over to Carlos. “That’s my number for when you get a new phone. Try not to text somebody else this time, okay?”

“Haha,” Carlos says drily. “I’ll do my best.”

“I’ll stop by tomorrow with the supplements,” T.K. promises. “Don’t let them drive you too crazy before then.”

“No promises,” Carlos sighs. “I love them. But they are so much.”

Voices float down the staircase and his eyes widen. “Run. Save yourself.”

T.K. chuckles and turns to head out, but just before he reaches the door he turns around and goes back. Leaning down he gives Carlos a peck on the lips. “I think we should skip coffee and go straight to dinner.”

“Yeah,” Carlos says, looking a little dazed. “Yeah dinner is great.”

T.K. grins. “Good.”

This time he actually does go and as he shuts the door he can hear Ana’s voice trailing out behind him. “Did T.K. leave? I wanted to talk to him!”

He smiles. Carlos is in good hands.

#911 Lone Star #Tarlos #Tarlos Fic #911lsfic #Thirst Trap Thursday

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whomst-art-thou-whomst-whomst · 2 years ago

Text

Oh No! Here Comes Trouble

Post-Canon Headcanon: Reunite

(Listen, it’s pre-slash because I say so, but you can def read this as just very good friends)

So imagine you get an invite to a high school post-grad graduation celebration—they never got around to it after the worst of the Covid wave subsided, and now for some reason administrators seem to think people *want* to return to their high school days. Imagine you were just an average student back in the day who knew about this weird situation everyone talked about where the one intimidating hooligan kid who can’t pass classes has spent years cruelly attacking the highest achieving student in the grade, a frail-looking little nerd who everyone puts on a pedestal.

Now imagine you go to the reunion, you’re putting on a nametag and avoiding that prick from your history class, and suddenly the hooligan and the nerd walk in together, followed by the hooligan’s two old friends (one of whom is now a beauty YouTuber??) and they get the room’s attention.

Cao Guangyan is pink-cheeked but seems healthy and not with Pu Yiyong under duress (people still come over to not-so-subtly check). Yiyong seems his usual glaring and bored self, wandering around looking at the decorations probably casing the joint. They settle at a table near you. You observe.

Everyone who approaches Guangyan gets the exact same polite greeting from him and a withering stare from Yiyong. Word has it Yiyong has been in TWO comas over the years, likely due to his dangerous lifestyle. Some speculate medical student Guangyan is with him to ensure he doesn’t collapse post-coma—so sweet of him to volunteer, even if he’s planning to go into something weird like forensic medicine (probably for noble reasons). Everyone knows how things were between them at school.

But they aren’t fighting or glaring at each other, they’re sitting close together at the same table, casually stealing each other’s dessert and poring over what looks like a bloodstained manuscript Guangyan pulled out of his bag—which, obviously, it can’t be. The two other friends chatter familiarly with the pair, and often over their heads, which are bent close together reading something in that weird book.

The table’s members only get up twice—once to get more food (you spot Guangyan extracting three chicken wings from Yiyong’s coat pocket and pointedly placing them into a pastel pink Tupperware dish), and once for Guangyan to get an award (so deserving, it looks like a flower they pinned to his suit jacket for being Mr. Congeniality?), for which Yiyong very rudely doesn’t bother to clap, just smirks a little when Guangyan shuffles back to the table red-faced amidst thunderous applause. Their two other friends wander out soon after—calling out something about an upload schedule—and so it’s just them, they’re just sitting together, still talking. And you, watching because look, the reunion is boring and this is not, okay, you pay attention like you never did in school.

Something about their dynamic oddly reminds you of your parents quietly drinking coffee together the morning after a bad sickness in the family. That’s not to say the talk isn’t animated—you notice a squabble early on over what sounds like Yiyong saying “can I not get one day without the fucking ghosts”, followed by Guangyan’s sulky muttering for five minutes straight before they return to reading the book. It’s strange but Yiyong doesn’t seem very threatening right now. He takes some of Guangyan’s drink, which is further confirmation of his criminal lifestyle, but that’s it.

They leave together with a full bag (how much Tupperware did they bring??), and it’s probably a trick of the disco ball light overhead, but it almost looks like Guangyan has taken off his award flower and pinned it to Yiyong’s hoodie.

#whomst #oh no! here comes trouble

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introspectivememories · 2 years ago

Text

“Bear, you’re hands are shaking.” Tim says abruptly.

“Hmm?” Bernard hums noncommittally, “Must be from the cold.”

“Bear,” Tim says with a little more force, “your hands are shaking.”

The entire family has stopped to watch them now.

Bernard smiles, tense around the edges, “I know. It must be from the cold.”

Tim turns towards his family, “Can you guys wait outside for a little? I need to talk to my husband over here.”

The family exchanges slow glances with each other and surprisingly it’s Jason who agrees first.

“Well, c’mon.” Jason says, when he sees that the rest of them haven’t moved, “They’re having a domestic squabble and they asked us to leave. Get moving.”

Quietly, the family exits out the hospital room, Bruce shutting the door behind him. The minute they’re all in the hallway, the family breaks out into hushed whispers.

“What do you think they’re arguing about?” says Steph.

“Dunno, seemed important.” Duke responds.

“Yeah, no shit.” Jason says smirking, “That’s why I bugged their room.”

“Jason,” Bruce admonishes but there’s no real rebuke behind it.

Jason pulls out his mini Bat-Tablet and starts fiddling with the frequencies. After a few short minutes, the static fades into recognizable words.

“...Bear tell me the truth.” Tim says, “Did you-”

“Lets not do this today, okay baby? You’re tired.” Bernard says.

“Ooooh, already starting off wrong.” Dick mutters.

“Don’t ‘baby’ me Bear. Tell me the truth. Did you-”

“Stop.” Bernard says, “You’re whole family is listening in.”

Jason nearly drops the Bat-Tablet, “What the fuck? How’d he know?”

“Do you really want this to be the way they find out?”

“About what?” Bruce mutters, fists clenching beside him.

“I don’t care! Tell me the truth!” Tim shouts, “Did you kill him?”

Silence falls over the hallway, the family trying process what they heard.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Steph asks.

“Duke, do you know anything about this?” Bruce asks, “You’re the only one who knew about Bernard before this whole incident. Any of this ringing a bell?”

Duke shrugs, “Not a clue, Uncle B. All I knew was that they were married, nothing else.”

“Tim, baby, don’t do this.” Bernard pleads, “Ask me anything else.”

"Answer my question, did. you. kill. him?"

Bernard is quiet for long enough that they think the connection fizzled out.

"He wasn't a good person." Bernard says quietly.

"Was he a bad person?" Tim counters.

"...No." Bernard admits.

"So just average then. Not good and not bad."

"He didn't have anyone waiting for him."

"Weird justification, still murder." Duke murmurs.

"Did you kill him, Bear?" Tim asks tiredly. "Answer me or I will call Nikhil."

"Tim, baby, you're the smartest person I know. You already have an answer to your question."

"He wants to hear it from you," Cass whispers.

"I want to hear it from you." Tim says, unknowingly mimicking Cass.

Bernard says nothing and Tim sighs, "Alright then. Call Nikhil here."

There's rustling on the other side, presumably Bernard pulling out his phone. Someone says something but it's too faint to properly understand.

"He'll be here in a few." Bernard says and the feed lapses back into silence.

The family looks at each other.

"Okay Tim talks about Bernard killing like it's something he regularly does. Is Bernard some kind of hitman? Mercenary? Assassin?" Dick asks.

"No," Damian says, startling everyone, "He does not act like one."

("When did you wake up?" Jason asks.

"When you started playing the feed," Damian says.)

"Okay but nevermind what Bernard is, who did he kill?" Duke asks.

"It sounds like a regular person," Steph says, "But I don't think Bernard would kill a regular person. He doesn't seem like it."

"You don't know him." Bruce says, "We met him 3 weeks ago."

Their theorizing is interrupted by an Indian man walking towards them.

"How did you get here?" Bruce growls out, "This is a private floor."

"Hello, Sir. My name is Nikhil. I was sent for."

Bruce looks like he's going to keep interrogating the man so Dick pushes him aside and says, "Of course! They're in the first room on the right."

Nikhil bows his head briefly, "Thank you." And walks into the room.

Jason turns up the volume on the Bat-Tablet.

"Nikhil," Tim says tiredly, "It's so good to see you again. Sorry about cancelling dinner last month."

Dinner? Last month? Duke mouths.

"Young Master Bernard, Young Master Tim." Nikhil says.

Even Bruce looks confused now. Young Master?

"It's not a problem," Nikhil continues, "You weren't feeling well. We'll just have to have two dinners this month to make up for it."

“Of course, of course!” Tim says, “Can you answer a question for me Nikhil?”

“Of course.”

“Did Bernard kill Matthew Nicholls?”

Bruce sighs, the tension leaving his shoulders, “The man who shot Tim in the throat.”

“Oh my god,” Steph whispers.

Nikhil doesn’t respond right away.

“Go ahead, Nikhil. Tell him.”

Nikhil clears his throat, “Yes.”

Tim sucks in a breath.

“Three days ago, Young Master Bernard, Luka, and me, killed him.” Nikhil speaks as if he’s reading the weather forecast, “Luka and I, were on lookout. Young Master Bernard shot him.”

(Jason pointedly tries not to think about the fact that, Tim’s husband will kill someone for shooting Tim in throat but Bruce won’t even think about harsher sentences for the fucking Joker.

Whatever he’s not mad.)

“God fucking damnit, Bear. What the hell were you thinking?” Tim breathes out.

“And you, Nikhil, how could you let him do this?”

“NIkhil, didn’t make me do anything Tim. I chose it. I did it. I put the bullet in his head.”

“Bear, you’re a doctor! You can’t just fuckin’ kill people!”

“Young Master Tim,” Nikhil states sharply, “He was the head of the mob long before he was doctor. And even if that wasn’t the case, the Aquista mob does not take lightly to their members being targeted.”

“The Aquista mob?” Steph says, “But I thought that they died out during the gang wars...”

“Shows how much you know.” snorts Jason, “They’re one of the only few mobs that don’t work directly under me. But there’s no way Bernard’s the head. I met with them, once, when I was still on my, y’know.”

“Your murder spree, you mean?” Dick asks dryly.

“Yeah that. Anyway, when I met with them, they took me to their head. He was definitely not blonde, or young. It was some middle-aged man.”

“Must have been a decoy.” Bruce says, “Do they cause any trouble?”

“Not at all. They stick to themselves.”

“If you fools could be quiet, I’d be able to hear what Drake and Dowd are saying.”

They all tune back in.

“You said you understood.” Bernard says quietly, “When we got married, you said you understood. That it wasn’t gonna come between us.”

“And it isn’t!” Tim responds frustratedly, “But you can’t just go around killing people who hurt me.”

“And I don’t.” Bernard says, “Because if I did, half of the Gotham’s villains would be dead. But you don’t like it when I kill so I don’t do it.”

“Because I do everything you ask. You told me you didn’t want me becoming an EMT in Gotham, so I stayed in the military. You told me not to kill, so I do it as sparsely as I can. You gave yourself to me and asked me to put you back together, and so I did. As carefully as I could I put you back together.”

“You can’t blame me for killing Matthew Nicholls. You can’t.”

“Bear,” Tim starts.

“Do you know what the doctors told me when I finally arrived?” Bernard interrupts, “They said your heart stopped twice. That is was a miracle the bullet hit nothing vital. They said you had lost too much blood, that they were worried you weren’t gonna make it.”

“Was that you plan Tim? To make me a widower? To leave me behind?”

Bernard continues, voice thick with emotion, “There is no me without you. It’s too late for that. If I had came back and you were dead, I would’ve returned to Ebria that day and thrown myself on a live grenade.”

“Before anything else, Tim, I am your husband. Remember that. Before being the head of the mob, before being a Marine, before anything else, I am your husband. Remember that.”

“Bear,” Tim chokes out.

“God, fuck. I can’t do this right now.”

“Bear, wait!”

They hear the sound of the door closing and they all rush to look inconspicuous. Bernard walks past them without a second glance, wiping at his eyes.

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twistedworld101 · 5 months ago

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Chapter 8: Saving The Merchant from the Depths

Book 1: The Vengeful Teen

Chapter 8: Saving The Merchant from the Depths

[Main Street]

Azul: Ugh! There’s too many of them! We’ll never defeat them all.

Savannaclaw Student: You’re defenseless without your 2 bodyguards! I’m glad that someone did that.

Pomefiore Student: Yes indeed, I did wish that you’ll pay the price, Azul. And my wish came true thanks to the opportunity by the mysterious student who got them POXED!

Brian: Wait, of course! Azul, I have a plan, but we’re still going to deliver to the Monstro Lounge.

Azul: And what is this plan? Oh! I get it!

Savannaclaw Student: (Angry) Hey! Are you two done squabbling?

*Azul and Brian runs away with the ingredients supplies*

Heartslabyul Student: (Angry) After them!

[Countyard]

Brian: Just a few more steps.

Pomefiore Student: (Angry) You can’t escape from us! Azul!

[Hall of Mirrors]

Azul: Almost there!

*They all went to the Octavinelle mirror and entered the dorm*

[Octavinelle Dorm]

Scarabia Student: Ha! There’s nowhere to hide from us! Hahahaha! Wait a minute.

Angry Mob Of Students: Oh no.

Brian: Oh yeah, we all know that we can’t use our Unique Magic on campus because of the school’s rules, but can use them on our dormitories.

*White parks of magic appeared in front of Brian, and is spinning around*

Brian: It’s time for the waves to come! Riptide Wave!

*Suddenly waves of water appears and splashing away the Angry Mob*

Pomefiore Student: Gah! We’re out of here! Boy, there goes my makeup, I have to put some on again, otherwise my Housewarden will kill me!

Savannaclaw Student: Gah, this stinks! We’ll be back for you Azul, count on it!

*The Angry Mob goes away and still were soaking wet*

Azul: Brian, I’m impressed.

Brian: That was my Unique Magic, Riptide Wave. This magic allows me to summon powerful waves and control water-based spells, I can create tidal waves, surf on them and manipulate water currents with my magic.

Azul: Wonderful, how can I ever repay you?

Brian: Um, we’ll save it in the future, okay?

Azul: Sure, and now where were we? Oh yes, delivering the ingredients!

(Meanwhile behind the corner)

*A shadowy figure was watching the whole thing*

???: Well I’ll be, that was entertaining, and my plan is coming together, but those fools who are investigating are going to ruin everything, and I can’t let anyone ruin my plans. Something must be done, hmm.

[Monstro Lounge]

(After the delivery)

Azul: You two did a good job, bravo!

Jeremy: I’m surprised about the angry mob that wanted revenge on you.

Monty: And I’m surprised of Brian saving you, quite a good plan, luring the angry mob to our dorm and using his Unique Magic against them, quite clever of him. Where is he anyway?

Azul: He said that he’s going to check his family and friends back from his home, The Kingdom of Heroes via his phone.

Jeremy: Wait, The Kingdom of Heroes? Isn’t it a region in our world neighboring the Sunshine Lands, northwest of the Land of Dawning and east of Shaftlands?

Azul: Correct you are.

Jeremy: I never knew he’s from there, it’s so far away from Sage’s Island and from what I hear, it’s near the Island of Woe, the Shroud brothers’ home.

Monty: And you know, I been thinking, who voted Royal Sword Academy over our school? For one thing, I voted for our school to be very honest and I even screenshotted it.

Azul: Yes, but perhaps in the next VDC, our school should win.

Jeremy & Monty: Agree.

{To Be Continued}

#disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst #azul ashengrotto #Brian Alius #Jeremy Flintlocke #Monty Anchier #twst book: the vengeful teen

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puddingvalkyrie · 10 months ago

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Old Flame

Tyrian slouched on the throne, trying to find a position that would better suit his numbed behind. Consulting hours were almost over. It had been quiet; just a few nobles asking if they could raise taxes a little for this project or that, with a clear timeline for the end of the raise. Aurelia had really put an end to the petty squabbles he was used to hearing; it was hard to complain about ‘all these foreigners’ to a foreign-born queen. Her sharp tongue saw off the rest of the foolish demands. He should have married her years ago. Nevertheless, they took turns, and today it was his. Ten minutes to go.

The door to the back corridor opened, and out stepped Will.

“You’re nearly there,” he said, putting his thumbs in his pockets. “Thought I’d come and keep you company anyway. Wanna go to Kiko’s after?”

“Sure.” Tyrian smiled and leaned his chin on his hand.

“How was it today?” Will asked. “Sorry I couldn’t be here.”

“Will, you are officially not my fool anymore,” Tyrian pointed out. “You’ve got other things to do. You don’t need to be sorry. And it went fine. Had a few perfectly reasonable requests. They want to open their own library over in The Green Woods, and Meadow Bright they’re asking for a plot of land to build a greenhouse and a dormitory. The lady at Shimmering Lake wants to build an... What did she call it... An indoor swimming pool? Somewhere people can swim indoors, where it’s safe. Apparently not all the witches who come here can swim, and she’s got a merrow friend who wants to start giving lessons.”

“Oh. I didn’t think of that.” Will pulled a notebook out of one pocket and a pencil from the other. “Swimming pool... Lessons...” He thought for a moment and added a few other notes, before putting the notebook away again. “Think Letitia would be interested in that?”

“I can always ask.” Tyrian shifted position again. Five minutes to go. “If she isn’t, I can try Celia.”

Will considered this. “I think you might need to have someone with legs rather than a fishtail as a teacher,” he pointed out. “Being a mermaid is cheating, I think.”

“True, but I was thinking she could ask her sisters. Some of them have legs. Besides, maybe we could offer tourists a mermaid potion?” Tyrian suggested. “Even if they know how to swim with legs, doesn’t mean they know how to swim with a tail. People would go for that, right? Being a mermaid for a few days?”

“I know people who would go nuts for that. Brilliant idea.” Will got out the notepad and scribbled furiously. “Of course, we’ll have to check where it’s safe and okay with the local merfolk to do so, make sure we won’t upset the local wildlife, keep it to very small groups at a time, probably a bunch of other precautions I’m not thinking of...”

Three minutes to go.

Busy peering over Will’s shoulder trying to make out what he was writing, Tyrian barely even heard the footsteps as the newcomer approached the dais. It was when they stopped he noticed the change of sound, and looked round.

“I’ll have to do a massive survey of pretty much the whole Realm, maybe even the whole country, and we should check with the neighbouring mermaid Queendom to-“

“Lawrence.”

Will paused.

The man stood awkwardly a few feet before the throne seemed little different to what Tyrian remembered. Peach skin, long, light brown hair in a braid. A little stockier now, though still slim, and dressed in a matching set of red trousers and shirt, edged with an elaborate gold pattern; his family crest, repeated over and over. He was clutching the edges of his dark purple cape together, though the emerald and gold pin was surely doing a fine job of that, and he kept his green eyes averted from the king’s face. “...Your Majesty.”

Will had stopped writing and was obviously trying not to stare.

“I um, I’ve taken over from my mother...”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I know this is unprofessional, but Lawrence as in...?” Will questioned.

Tyrian gave a small nod.

“Oh no,” the man said in a small voice, pulling his cloak even tighter.

“I mean, you can’t really have expected me not to talk about you?” Tyrian directed this at the unfortunate Lawrence.

“Of course not.” Lawrence replied. “So it... It really is my fault.”

Tyrian frowned, caught off guard. “What is?” Tyrian did have a mental list of things that were Lawrence’s fault, but nothing he could think Lawrence should be aware of.

“That everyone got kicked out of the palace,” Lawrence replied.

“If you want to get extremely psychological about it, I suppose so, but otherwise no,” Tyrian replied. “I needed the nobles out. ‘Everyone’ did not get kicked out, in fact.”

“Yes, that’s ... That’s true...” Lawrence admitted. He bit his lip, and still refused to meet Tyrian’s gaze. There was a long silence.

“So? What did you come to me for?” Tyrian prompted.

“There’s been griffin attacks. Increasing frequency. We don’t want to hurt the griffins, we know they’re endangered... But we have to do something.”

“Do you know what’s causing it?” Tyrian asked.

Lawrence shook his head. “No.”

“It needs investigating then.”

Lawrence finally looked at him, brow furrowed. “I thought that was the palace’s responsibility? Once we’ve reported it?”

“No?” Tyrian replied, just as puzzled. “That’s part of your job? Safeguarding the village? That’s why people pay you the taxes??”

“Oh... Yes... I thought because it was a wildlife issue...” Lawrence looked down again as his cheeks turned crimson.

“It is good that you reported it before you took any action, of course,” Tyrian clarified, “and I’ll assign someone to you so we can cooperate on the matter.”

Lawrence gave a single nod. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I... I’ll, um, I’ll start investigating in the meantime. I’ll make sure I’m familiar with the Endangered Species Act before we start the research. I’m quite lost as to how to go about it, so if you have any advice, please do send it along.”

“I will. Please do also send me any ideas you do come up with.”

Lawrence loitered for some moments, turned to go, then turned back. “... Is there any possibility you’ll ever let the nobles back in...?”

“Who asked you to ask?” Tyrian demanded.

“Um. A few people.”

“Well, you can tell them no,” Tyrian replied firmly. “It’s now impossible because we need the space for the magic school students, the new museum, some other tourism business, possibly this griffin thing, and not your personal fault in any way whatsoever.”

“...Thank you. That’s everything. Well... No...” He took a steadying breath. “I... I really am sorry, you know. I know I really hurt you. I shouldn’t have... ... ... I know that doesn’t matter now, but... I couldn’t leave without saying it.”

“Well, you have said it, therefore, you can leave,” Tyrian responded. Lawrence nodded mutely before turning and heading back towards the main doors. He was almost to the door before Tyrian shouted after him, “And don’t you bloody well dare wait another thirty bloody years to talk to me again! You... Spineless cabbage!”

The man turned to give him a weak smile before he disappeared. His footsteps faded away. Consulting hours were officially over.

“You know, cabbages are not known for their spines,” Will pointed out.

“Couldn’t think of anything suitably insulting.” Tyrian rubbed his temples. “And yet suitably ‘You are actually allowed to come and talk to me without it being a sodding emergency’.” Tyrian pressed his palms into his eyes. “The absolute bastard.”

“You don’t mean it.” Will reached over and squeezed his hand.

“I bloody do. I mean, I don’t, but I do.”

“Weirdly, I know what you mean.”

“He’s still... Ugh. He only came to me because some of the other nobles wanted him to,” Tyrian complained. “Perhaps they thought an old flame would convince me to change my mind. Ha! They can come in person, next time.”

“I don’t think that’s it... Not all of it, anyway.”

“No?”

“If you were him, what would you have done? If the tables were turned?”

“I would have just come to Aurelia. I could’ve avoided the whole situation-” Tyrian folded his arms. “Oh. Alright, fine. Maybe he’s not a spineless cabbage.”

“What would a cabbage even look like with a spine?”

“I don’t think this is a productive area of discussion.”

“It most certainly is not and the spined cabbages of my imagination might haunt me forever.” Will wrinkled his nose. “Quick, new topic?”

“Griffins?” Tyrian suggested. “Ideas on how to investigate them?”

“Harforth gets attacked by griffins still,” Will mused. “They can’t really do anything much about it. It’s normally in the hard times, like winter, when food is hard to find.”

“But it’s never winter here,” Tyrian thought aloud. “What could have happened??”

“I guess we need to find a way of tracking griffins?” Will suggested.

“I guess we do...”

-----

I don't mean to keep mentioning how the nobles got kicked out of the palace, three pieces in a row, it just keeps coming up. Like I'm not trying to make a big deal about it, it just happened to keep being relevant...

#vdbif #vampires don't belong in fairytales #vampire #fairy #writing #ocs #vampires #vampire oc #fairy oc #tyrian von stollenheim

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lemme-cryyy · 1 year ago

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Note: I’m bored, and so I decided to write a isekai’d female (y/n) into jjk world. This is my first fanfic and English is not my first language. So sorry if I some of the words sounds weird or wrong.

Ch. 1 A whole new world

You found yourself as *a curse.* You don’t even know how did it happened. One day, you just get home tired from all the work you did today and you decided to take a 30 minutes nap. But you wake up and finding yourself in another world, in JJK world to be exact. How did you know this is a JJK world or found that you’re a spirit? Oh it all begins when Haibara and Nanami was on a mission. They were going into the forest and inside that forest there’s a cave that many said contains a curse spirit. The higher-up want to eliminate that curse spirit, so they sent Nanami and Haibara on that mission only to find the curse spirit is actually harmless and don’t have any idea at all. You cry like a baby when they want to eliminate you, pleading them to let you go.

“Nanami, I think we should just let her go.. She doesn’t know anything.” Haibara standing across Nanami, and try to persuade him not to kill you.

“If we let her go, she might kill us instead.. You’ll never know. Just let me do it.” Nanami holding out his weapon and point it at you, while you just hiding behind Haibara’s back trembling like a chihuahua.

“Kill us?? Look at her! She looks so clueless, I bet she doesn’t even know how to fight.”

Haibara said that as if you’re some kind of animal that’s been abandoned by her master, and you’re too shock to speak, your face as white as ghost (well, you’re a spirit curse, duh).

Nanami makes a sigh and quickly gave up after looking at Haibara’s pleading eyes, it’s his weak point after all.

“Haah.. Fine.. You’re win. But you’re the one that’s going to make an excuse and explain everything to the principal.”

At least, you’re free from the execution.. But where should you go now? You can’t go back to your own world, you don’t even know what should you do. Should you tell them you know them from anime? Will they even believe in you? Or worst will they see you as a threat? You decide to stay silent.

“Are you alright? What’s your name?” Haibara smiles gently at you.

“Y/n.. Thanks for not killing me.”

“I’m Haibara and this grumpy emo is Nanami. Nice to meet you.”

“Hey, who do you call the grumpy emo..” Nanami squabbles

“By the way, how could you stuck in this place?” Haibara asking you while ignoring Nanami.

“I.. uh.. I don’t even know. I just try to take a nap and suddenly here I am.. becoming a spirit in this other world. Am I actually dying in my nap? Argh!!! what will happened to my family? They must be sad if I die like that.. And what about my savings? I haven’t give them password to my bank account..” You start chattering like Eminem.

“Hmpfh…” Haibara try to suppress his laughter from your comedic monologue while Nanami sharp witted personality caught up your word about not being from this world.

“Other world? What do you mean by that?”

Shit.. You spoiled out your thoughts.. “W-well, it’s as literal as I said. I’m from other world.” You decided to see how the situation will play out.

#fanfiction #nanami and haibara and y/n #isekai #jujutsukaisen #to be continued #jjk fanfic

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mbrainspaz · 2 years ago

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It's been years since I wrote this short story for my old writer's group and I feel like sharing. I've said before that I hate writing short stories so with this one I cheated. It's actually a prequel to a bigger story about teleporting shapeshifters I've been writing since I was 16. Even then I barely resisted making it into a 200+ page prequel novel. This MINI prequel takes place at the end of WW2 so expect themes accordingly. Please don't expect much from the 'research' I probably spent 30 minutes on. The prompt from writer's group was "I'll go first."

Observe: some of my earliest OCs— the immortal idiots.

1945. April. Berlin.

“I can hardly blame Adolf.”

The chandelier rattled and dust cascaded into two cups of coffee as a Russian shell brought down the building next door. August sighed at the froth of rubble in his gilded cup and splashed the brew onto the carpet. He took his time selecting a decanter of schnapps from a liquor cabinet and poured himself a glass.

“He did start the war,” I said.

“Not for—yes obviously. I meant for going mad.”

“You want me to believe you didn’t have a hand in that?”

August smirked over the edge of his glass and said, “It doesn’t matter now. It turns out you had the right idea when you defected to America. I think I’ll join you in Chicago soon. Despite everything I did for them the Germans have—” another cascade of shellfire blew out the tall windows. August coughed delicately. “—lost.”

“You aren’t welcome in America after what you've been a part of here. None of the Allied Nations will have you.”

August slowly lowered his glass.

“That’s what I came here to tell you,” I continued without meeting my old friend’s eyes. Once I would have called him family—the older brother I never had. I swilled the muddy coffee in my cup but never raised it to my lips. I'd be a fool to try anything August served me.

“Andreas,” August pouted my name, drawing hurt from all three syllables. “You know I don’t care if you work for the FBI now. The two of us, we’re bigger than all these squabbles between nations, yes? We’ve known we were brothers since the moment we met. Once the treaties are signed all of this will be in the past. Just like your unfortunate incident last year.” He reached out squeeze my shoulder.

“Don’t!” I barked, rolling out of my chair to get away. I landed on one knee, pistol raised.

“Oh dear, you’re still upset about that.”

“Upset,” I spat. The sympathetic smile on August’s face tested the utmost limits of my restraint. “It was your fault! It’s your fault she’s dead! I didn’t defect to America because they were winning, I left to get away from you. The whole world has seen pictures of the internment camps now so stop pretending you don’t know what you were part of. You crafted this evil. You engineered it.”

August whistled through his teeth and raised his hands. His schnapps glass hovered in the air near his right wrist until he decided to pick it up. The trick cost him nothing. I could remember a time when we both went red-faced trying to lift pebbles or slip coin purses from pockets. In those early days each new ability was a source of wonder that fueled our dreams. It took me too long to realize how very different his dreams were.

I waited for August to retreat to the far side of the table before I stood up. I kept my pistol leveled at his head.

“You’re being unreasonable,” August purred. “Haven’t you realized everything that happened was for the best? She wasn’t like us. She would only have held you back. You proved that when you came back.”

I lowered the pistol before August could see my hands tremble. The memories of that night were still as vivid as the crumbling city around me. They were the ghost of a bullet flashing through my head. The first sight from new eyes imprinted on my mind like a raw scar: Her dead eyes staring back at me.

August laughed into his drink. There was less remorse in his heart than there was fuel for the German tanks. I had seen all I needed to see.

“We aren’t as special as you think,” I said. “How closely were you involved with the Japanese?”

“Not very. I never saw much promise in Japan. I was only ever interested in Germany. I thought that was what you wanted.”

“So you haven’t heard of the Black Dragon Society.”

“Are they… ninjas? They sound like ninjas. Please do tell me they're ninjas.”

I drew a photograph from my coat pocket. I flicked it across the room and August’s hand snapped up to catch it.

“Meet me there in ten minutes.”

August scoffed and said, “You’ve gotten slow.”

“I might stop in Brazil for a decent cup of coffee.”

A cannon shell screamed its final warning a second before the building came crashing down around our ears.

I stepped out of a shadowed doorway near the FBI building in Washington DC. I slipped into the role of Andrew Stern while I was still brushing rubble from my lapels. The morning was cold and no birds sang over the low rumble of automobile traffic. I took a steadying breath and startled half to death when a hand fell on my shoulder.

“So, is he dead yet?” John asked.

“Ah—no. Hitler is hiding in his bunker and the Russians have taken most of the city. Goebbels has stepped in to direct the troops.”

I let August think that I worked for the FBI but in truth it was blackmail. The sharp-eyed FBI director was the only one who knew about my ability to travel impossible distances in the blink of an eye. It was a secret he would keep as long as I was useful. Luckily he didn’t know my other impossibilities.

No one knew about August. I couldn't warn the world about him without exposing myself. No, August was a spider pulling a thousand strings and when those strings broke he would disappear and build a new web. The threat about the Allied Nations was pure bluster. For now I was the only thing standing between an unscrupulous man who could reshape matter with his mind and the rest of the world—but perhaps not forever.

John thumped me on the back, took a drag of his cigarette, and said, “I don’t think I’ll rest easy until I finally see Hitler’s corpse. You’re doing a great service to this country, Andrew my boy.”

I exhaled a puff of cold air. At 33 I was technically younger than the director but I wouldn’t have chosen to appear that way. That was my penance as long as the FBI knew me by this face.

“Oh, that reminds me.” John fumbled through his coat pockets until he produced an envelope. I accepted it after the barest hesitation. “They want you back on the Manhattan Project so your work in Cambridge will have to wait.”

“I don’t—I have classes to teach.”

“Andrew Andrew.” John’s hand thumped against my back again. “This is a matter of national security. Play teacher another day.”

I scowled at John’s back as he ground his cigarette butt into the sidewalk and returned to his office. The Manhattan Project was what had first turned my interest to Japan months ago. I pulled back my sleeve to check one of my seven wristwatches. No time for coffee in Brazil after all.

“This is quaint,” August greeted me from behind a Japanese face. We stood together on a bridge over the Ōta River just after sunset. A lantern-lit trolley rumbled past, carrying locals dressed in fine evening wear. Most of the pedestrians still wore their grimy work clothes as they rode bicycles or pulled carts. I didn’t miss the petrol-fueled thrum of DC.

“This way," I said, using a tongue the locals would understand as their own if any bothered to overhear it. I led August to a dark temple on the riverfront. We entered by stepping through a solid wall, a detail that didn't phase him. He'd grown so confident in his own power.

"Who dares approach the black dragon?” boomed a voice that would have made a sane man’s knees tremble.

"Oh this is—this is very nice," August said, nodding his head as he crossed the black marble floor in confident strides. As he approached the regal figure on a throne in the center of the hall he raised a hand in a casual Nazi salute, then had to laugh at himself. “Sorry, old habits. I’m August, and you are?”

Fabric rustled. Two katanas glinted in the low light as they crossed against August’s throat. He went still, not paralyzed but calculating. The warriors who held the blades wore featureless black masks and they had crossed the hall without ever taking a step.

I coughed to break the tension and bowed my head, saying, “Thank you for agreeing to meet with us, great dragon.”

The enthroned figure waved an onyx hand and the two warriors vanished from the hall as easily they had appeared. August stepped back from the throne to stand at my side.

“August.” The powerful voice spoke his name as if to shake it apart and sift through the ruins. “You who call yourself ‘Aryan.’”

August smiled a curious smile and said, “I am what I am.”

“You know not what you are, nor how you came to be.”

I knew August was stung by that though he hid it well. A trace of the orphaned boys we once were would always be part of us.

“Names and titles mean so little,” he hedged.

“And yet you have given yourself so many, not least the name of an Emperor.”

August flushed at that, his eyes blazing gold in a rare show of temper. The wooden throne creaked dangerously. The masked figure on the throne only tilted its head in response. August crushed the throne to splinters. The Dragon stayed seated on serenely on empty air, black robes hanging inches from the ground.

“You are gifted but you are ignorant,” the Dragon boomed. August staggered a half-step back. It was enough to make my heart race. “It is time you learned you are set apart, but not above.”

“Of course I’m above them! I’m immortal,” August blustered, pounding a fist against his chest.

The Dragon laughed. “Thirty-five years you have walked this earth and you think yourself eternal.”

“Spit it out then. What do you say I am?”

“You are Tsukumogami: He who lives for a hundred years. No more and no less. You are not a god, but a tool of the spirits sent to guide humanity along better paths until our time on this earth is past.”

I knew how hard that revelation had hit me and yet August seemed to take it all in stride. He contemplated the hovering figure for a silent moment before turning on his heel and vanishing from the hall. I knew right where I would find him.

August didn’t turn when he heard me clambering over the rooftop. He gazed out over the train yard, watching civilians and soldiers mill about like busy ants in a black forest hive. This was the Parisian train station where we’d first crossed paths in 1922.

“You think he was telling the truth?” he asked. All the bravado had been stripped away along with the disguises. He wore his own face, probably for the first time in a decade. His tightly curled blonde hair suited him better than the slicked back style he’d worn for the Nazis.

“He knows what he’s talking about. Their order has been around for centuries. You wouldn’t believe how I found them.”

“Well you finally did it. Found out what we are. Tsuku—whatever. What a ridiculous name.”

“I hoped it might help you see the world in a different light.”

“I know what it means to you.”

I shook my head, watching all the people below without really seeing them.

“I’ll go first,” August said.

#historical fiction #historical fantasy #short story #writing prompt #deadline #original story #writing #writeblr

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prismatranslates-cue · 11 months ago

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Girls meet meat! à la carte Part 1

Maika: Mmm, the weather’s so nice today! Perfect for a barbecue.

Maika: If only everyone wasn’t so late! I’m the only one here… What gives?

Maika: We’re supposed to meet at 10AM, right? It’s already 9:30!

Maika: …Okay, maybe it’s still a little early.

Maika: No wait, no, I was right! It’s obvious they should be here at least 30 minutes early!

Maika: I mean, come on, we’re going on a barbecue! What could be more exciting than that?

Maika: Gasp! Maybe they don’t agree…? Did none of them actually want to do it?

Maika: Was I the only one looking forward to our barbecue this whole time…?

Maika: There’s no way…that can’t be it, right…?

Haruna: What’s wrong, Maika-chan…?

Maika: Haruna!! Thank goodness! Am I glad to see you!

Haruna: Uhh, you seemed like something was really upsetting you just now?

Maika: Oh, you know. I was waiting here by myself, so my thoughts were kinda getting away from me…

Haruna: Have you been waiting long? What time did you get here?

Maika: Hmm, I’ve been here since maybe 9AM?

Haruna: You got here an hour early?!

Maika: I mean, going barbecuing was my idea, after all. It’d be pretty lame if I wasn’t the first one here.

Haruna: I guess I could’ve showed up a little earlier myself, then. …To be honest, I kind of took it slow coming here.

Maika: Oh? How come?

Haruna: Well, I didn’t want to get here so early that I looked hopelessly excited for it. That’d be a little embarrassing, you know?

Haruna: But I mean, I am. I really couldn’t wait for today.

Maika: Haruna…! I knew you were a real one…!

Haruna: Wh-what? What are you talking about?

Maika: Well, to be honest, I was getting a little worried… I thought maybe you guys didn’t actually want to go on this trip with me.

Haruna: You thought we didn’t want to do this barbecue? Of course we do! We’ve all been looking forward to it!

Maika: Then how come it’s just you and me here? Where are the other two?

Haruna: Well…I mean, there’s still 15 minutes before our scheduled meeting time, right?

Haruna: Maybe they’re killing some time before coming here like I did.

Maika: …Well, I guess that’d be okay… you don’t think they overslept, do you?

Haruna: I-I don’t think they would…

Maika: Thinking about it now, maybe we should’ve just gathered up at the dorm and left together instead of meeting here?

Haruna: But I do kind of like meeting up at the station. It makes it feel like a real special outing, you know?

Maika: That’s how my family always does it, yeah. My parents, my siblings, we’d all meet up at the place itself.

Haruna: Does your family do barbecues like this often?

Maika: Every year! Most people would probably like to save for big fancy trips, but we were always content with going on barbecues.

Maika: So every single member of my family is a real pro at this point.

Haruna: It must be really fun, especially with all your siblings.

Maika: You bet! Cooking our own food in the beautiful outdoors, and then chowing down on it afterwards? That’s what it’s all about!

Maika: That’s when I’m really thankful I have a big family. It makes up for all the constant squabbles…probably.

Haruna: Hehe, that sounds so fun. I’m an only child, so I’ve never experienced anything like that.

Maika: You’ve got us now, though! Me and Shiho and Honoka, we’re all under the same roof now.

Haruna: That’s true! There’s never a dull moment with you guys. Each and every day is always so fun.

Maika: And a barbecue like today will be full of even more excitement, so I hope you’re ready!

Haruna: I sure am!

Maika: …But geez, where are the other two? The meeting time is only a few minutes away.

Haruna: Should we try messaging them?

Maika: No, it’s fine. If they’re not here in the next few minutes, they’re getting left behind.

Haruna: Huh? But…then it would only be the two of us?

Maika: Fine by me! The two of us will help ourselves to their share of the food too.

Haruna: By the way, I’ve been wondering…what’s in the cooler?

Maika: Hehhehheh. All will be revealed in time.

Haruna: Ohh? But I wanna know now! Please?

Maika: Let’s just say it’s something key to today’s barbecue.

Haruna: Oh, I know! I bet it’s ramen ingredients!

Maika: Uh, I know that I’m not shy about my love for ramen but…come on, even I wouldn’t bring it to a barbecue.

Haruna: Mmm, I wonder what it could be then…hm?

Maika: What’s up? Did you figure it out?

Haruna: No, but look! Honoka-chan is sprinting over!

Honoka: …Whew! Made it…!

Maika: You’re late, Honoka!

Honoka: Huh? It’s not 10 o’clock yet.

Maika: It might as well be! It’s 9:57. You ought to be at least 5 minutes early for a barbecue trip. That’s just common sense!

Honoka: I don’t wanna hear it from someone who’s always barely getting to lessons on time!

Maika: Lessons are one thing, but barbecues are different!

Honoka: How on earth is a barbecue the only thing you’ll be punctual for…?

Haruna: It sounds like barbecues are really special for Maika-chan.

Maika: Honoka…are you saying you don’t like them?

Honoka: I would never! Of course I do! I was so excited for today, I was out the door so early!

Maika: Then how come you only just got here?

Honoka: Well…it’s a bit of a long story…

Haruna: What do you mean…?

To be continued...in Part 2

#CUE #Maika Takatori #Haruna Mutsuishi #Honoka Tsukii #Flower #Event Story #Girls meet meat à la carte #Takatori Maika #Mutsuishi Haruna #Tsukii Honoka #QC by Budder #QC by Shiku

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faydingrain · 1 year ago

Text

Cedric Blair

A bit too chipper, Lilith vanquished her candle flame. “...There’s technically more to that story, but that’s all I should share about it.”

An awkward silence.

“I don’t remember hearing about that one,” Kai broke the quiet.

“Yeah, me neither,” Enzo agreed.

“That’s probably because everyone forgot about her so quickly, since she pushed everyone away like she did,” their senior explained, a subtle sadness welling up in her eyes. “No one talked about her after she disappeared. It was as if she never existed at all.”

Effie frowned. “That’s still really sad…I’m sure she would appreciate that you still remember her though.”

“...There are times I wish we could have swapped places, but that's probably wrong of me to think.”

“Hey,” Kenny began, “don’t think like that! We appreciate you being here, and I’m sure your friend would be happy knowing that you’re still around too. It’s not your fault all that happened.”

She responded to his words, and the mutual agreement around the room, with a small smile. “Thank you. You don’t need to try and comfort me though. I’ve reflected on it many times, and I can cope with my reality now.”

Beside her, Cedric was watching through the corner of one open eye.

“Ahh, I’ve spoken too much already. Let’s move on.” She leaned his way. “Figure out your story, my love?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Then, take it away!”

Cracking a smile, he gave a breathy chuckle. “Thank you.”

***

When I was born, the doctor that helped deliver me slipped on the sterile floors shortly after and fell on his head. This accident claimed his life that day.

When I was 3, my parents had no choice but to leave me with a babysitter for an undetermined period of time. They were forced to rearrange plans when she had an unexpected heart attack that took her life far too young.

When I was 6, I used to play with my neighbour’s children. We would enjoy running about, guided by our imaginations in our front lawns. That is, until my then-friends were hit by a drunk driver swerving off the road.

It was a tragedy, of course. And the fool of a driver was drunken, so it was clearly his poor decisions that caused this to unfold, correct?

When I was 9, a terrible storm struck the city and damaged our roof. My uncle came to visit for the holiday, offering to fix it while he helped my parents prepare the day’s feast. We had a wonderful time.

Eating quickly, my uncle then dismissed himself a bit early to get to work, and my father left the house to see if the neighbours had a few extra supplies that could be repaid later.

A series of loud crashes followed. My uncle had slipped and fallen off the ladder. He would have been fine, had the beam above him not fallen and impaled his side.

He was pronounced dead upon arriving to the hospital.

We mourned him, as he was a beloved family member. It was all because of the havoc the storm had wrought upon our home that his life was taken from us far too soon.

When I was 12, I visited a local faire with my parents. There were plenty of stalls, entertainers, food, colourful lights. One particular act I was taken with was a series of people dressed as knights, “re-enacting” battles of old—horses, armour, and lances included.

The group was filled with spectacular actors. I was almost convinced I had been transported to the past, witnessing the true squabbles of rival knights. But, perhaps that immersion went too far when one of them was unexpectedly struck and thrown from his steed. He didn’t move for several minutes, and had to be escorted out by emergency services.

I discovered later that he had broken his back. However, I heard that he has since recovered and is doing well. He’s taken to acting on the stage of these faires, and his brilliant acting carries him through a successful career.

When I was 15, I joined a dance group. I had become fascinated with dance after developing a crush on a cheerleader, but my interest led me into the love of the venture rather than the romance of another.

I was told I learned quickly, and could keep up with my seniors quite well. There were minor setbacks here and there, but we eventually worked hard enough to register for a small competition.

It was disastrous. Through a series of blunders, we lost miserably. Everyone around me was sent home with some sort of injury. Two of our members were forced to permanently retire from their dream as a result.

When I was 18, I took the bus to make a long trip for personal matters. The way home was much longer due to the stops that were made, and by the time I had nearly returned, a car drove into the side I was seated on.

Due to my not sitting by the window, I wasn’t directly caught in the crash as my seatmate was. As far as I heard, however, they managed to recover since I escaped the scene quickly.

When I was 21, a bridge I had been resting on while reading collapsed shortly after I departed. A passing bystander was caught with the rubble, but was thankfully rescued from the water, and walked away with only minor injuries.

When I was 24, a devastating explosion demolished half of one of the buildings at my former university. It was the building I primarily studied in.

Thankfully, no one, not even a janitor, was caught in the devastation, as it happened after-hours.

You may have noticed a pattern by now. Perhaps I am surrounded by misfortune, and I have been chosen as the unlucky soul to witness such terrible tragedies.

Perhaps that is an honest statement to some degree, but it is not the truth.

Though, not every instance of ill fortune was so dramatic. When I was 5, a dodgeball somehow slipped past someone's hands and hit the classmate beside me in the nose. When I was 10, a classmate tripped and fell, landing on his own sharpened pencils. (As they were only pencils, he received but a few minor cuts). When I was 15, a close friend of mine would constantly slip and drop his lunch, often all over himself.

My mother took notice of the events happening around me when I was still young, and brought me to many witches and mages to figure out the cause.

Only one granted us an answer. "The boy was born with an ill aura. For as long as he lives, terrible things will happen to those around him. He cannot choose who, nor the severity of the event, as he lacks the vile soul for it to take root in. Perhaps you could say that he, too, was struck with ill fortune upon birth."

He also mentioned that my parents must be immune to the effects of it, as they, or my mother at least, would likely have perished long before I was born.

Despite this, my parents didn't wish to isolate me from society for something outside my control. So, my mother taught me how to ward myself and others in order to reduce or negate any possible consequences of it.

If you've visited Greenwall pharmacy, you may have noticed odd “decor” around the area. Those are not simply decoration; they are talismans I've set in place to protect my technicians and the public we serve. My team is also informed upon hire of the circumstances they'll be working under for their safety. While that has scared some away, my current employees have faithfully remained at my side despite the occasional mishaps.

But, before I stay in a public place for long, there is an incantation I must recite. I’ve also come to understand the feeling of my own aura before it triggers disaster, so I can quickly recite it beforehand and it will still take effect. While I’ve discovered other methods to keep those around me as safe as possible, my mother created and taught me my primary incantation herself.

It goes like this:

—Holding two fingers before his lips, Cedric clasped his hands together.—

Scaretober 2023

Brisk Wind on a Dark Trail

Midnight Moon

Gargoyle's Watch

Cold Stones in the Fog

Spirits Rising

Haunted House

Witching Hour

Bubbling Cauldron

Candy

Eyes

Spider Silk

Feathers

Tail

Scales

Fangs or Talons

An Offering of Blood

Dark Ritual

Spook Scary Skeletons

Carnivàle Morte

Still-Beating Heart

Sharpened Blade

Mask

Looming Shadows

The Devil's Hand

Monster

Reflection in the Mirror

Rusted Chains

Stitches

Precious Jewels

Incantation

Halloween

Epilogue

#[ Familiar Faces through the Storm ]#word spores #Maggie's Misadventures #writeblr #writing prompts #scaretober #halloween prompts #Cedric Blair #Lilith Nightingale #Kai Hale #Lorenzo Godfrey #Effie Rose Gracely #Kendrick Allen

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