#straight up horrified! but! she knows…. she knows what she’s doin. that’s what matters in the end lol

[dhufearchived]

@wldflwers​   SAID   :    WE’RE  HAVING  A  BABY.   I  REALLY  DIDN’T  THINK  IT  WOULD  HAPPEN  FOR  US.    (  caranthir  )

nefarious    little    voice    in    the    back    of    her    head,    murmuring    all    kinds    of    malevolent    truths    ;    elise,    who    would    allow    you    to    perpetuate    this    lineage    of    evil    ?    and    if    the    voice    has    mama's    unforgiving    tone,    there    is    no    water    pure    enough    to    dilute    the    damage    it    has    already    done.    even    if    they    have    talked    about    it,    and    they    have    ___    at    great    length,    as    they    always    do,    a    reassurance    ishtar    did    not    know    she    would    one    day    require    to    move    on    with    her    life.    but    every    step    ahead    is    an    easy    one,    as    he    is    there    to    make    sure    they    have    envisioned    the    path    they    must    trudge    on.    in    all    chaos    there    is    calculation    ;    and    more    often    than    not,    he    is    hers.    the    hand    to    her    compass,    always    pointing    home.    and    yet    !    even    if    they    have    talked    about    it,    the    voice    has    always    been    louder    than    the    shambles    of    the    outside    world    :    exquisite    negation    of    a    family    that    would    never    see    the    day,    for    she    has    ruined    her    first    &    second.    [    don't    you    think    you    have    had    enough    chances,    elise    ?    ]    

so    when    the    sickness    arrives    unannounced,    all    her    favorite    dishes    now    poison    down    the    throat    ;    even    the    button    mushrooms,    which    are    usually    absentmindedly    eaten    straight    out    of    a    bowl    in    front    of    the    tv    ___    well,    she    reckons    a    few    days    of    rest    are    required.    sickness    is    now    easier    to    accept    than    it    has    been    in    the    past,    because    caranthir    usually    lets    himself    be    bullied    into    playing    the    nurse.    she    acts    as    the    dying    maiden    &    if    he    sees    right    through    her    little    game,    he    does    not    seem    to    mind    it    too    much    when    it    means    actually    getting    rid    of    the    fever.    with    ishtar,    a    game    is    always    preferable    to    the    stone    cold    silence    that    accompanies    any    kind    of    tentative    offer    to    help    :    she    would    welcome    a    deadly    fever,    no    questions    asked,    if    it    meant    avoiding    the    terrible    ordeal    of    asking    someone    else    to    take    care    of    her.    and    if    they    have    yet    to    destroy    this    mechanism,    they    have    found    their    way    around    it    :    ishtar    demands    attention    rather    than    help,    and    caranthir    finds    a    way    to    translate    one    into    the    other.

but    this    time    is    different.    the    disease    does    not    go    away,    no    matter    how    many    times    she    demands    some    peace    from    her    body    :    two    weeks    later,    once    confronted    with    another    bowl    of    mushrooms    that    looked    tantalizing    and    yet    tasted    disgusting,    the    girl    breaks    down    crying.    khairos    on    her    shoulder,    his    small    head    against    her    cheek,    hiding    under    dishevelled    hair    as    her    shoulders    come    up    &    down    with    tearful    shudders.    the    crisis    lasts    no    more    than    ten    minutes,    but    it    feels    significant    :    ishtar    likes    her    fits    of    crying    the    same    way    she    likes    the    rest    of    her    dramatics    ___    they    need    to    be    purposeful    &    controlled.    they    are    never    chaos    to    her,    only    chaos    to    the    world.    and    this    ?    this    is    unbridled    chaos    with    no    explanation    :    she    hates    it.    one    thing    leading    to    another,    it    is    easy    to    come    up    with    ideas    :    a    cancer    (google's    idea),    a    pregnancy    (macy's    conclusion),    or    a    stomach    bug    making    her    very    very    emotional    (ishtar's    own    interpretation).

and    while    it    is    rather    difficult    (but    not    impossible    if    you're    determined    ...    and,    well,    ishtar)    to    demand    a    test    for    a    deadly    disease,    no    one    prevents    her    from    buying    a    pregnancy    test.    it    feels    forbidden,    the    old    feeling    of    doing    something    the    rest    of    the    world    will    judge    your    for    ;    but    ishtar    is    no    longer    eighteen.    the    lady's    look    is    hopeful,    telling    her    "    good    luck    "    &    ishtar    doesn't    know    how    to    tell    her    that    there    is    no    chance    on    earth    she    is    pregnant.    the    girl    has    few    actual    beliefs    (the    world    turns    &    we    turn    with    it    ;    my    body    is    mine    ;    i    am    my    mother's    daughter,    whatever    that    might    entail)    but    those    are    enough    to    lead    her    to    think    that    she    might    not    be    able    to    fulfill    her    end    of    the    bargain.    she    had    not    known    how    to    tell    caranthir    at    the    time,    but    she    does    not    trust    this    cursed    body    into    producing    anything    but    chaos    ;    and    if    it    did,    then    surely    she    would    end    up    being    the    same    mess    as    her    mother.    full    of    good    intentions,    &    still,    mother    instincts    operating    wrong.    

which    leads    us    back    to    the    present,    both    of    them    standing    over    the    test.    well,    caranthir    standing    over    the    test    while    ishtar,    fists    clenched    &    eyes    closed,    is    getting    herself    ready    to    apologize    for    her    body    ;    how    it    is    going    to    let    him    down,    day    after    day,    because    it's    never    going    to    be    able    to    create    life.    (mama    thought    she    was    the    devil    incarnate    but    sometimes    ishtar    only    sees    death    in    the    mirror.    ghosts    over    her    shoulders,    whispering    sweet    nothings    about    memories    she    helplessly    tries    to    push    away).    but    then    she    hears    him,    breath    catching    in    her    throat.    surely    he    is    mistaken.    «        we're    havin'    a    what    now    ?        »    tight    line    of    her    brows,    finally    peering    down    (only    one    eye    open)    at    the    singular    clear    line    on    the    test.    «        fuck.        »    a    long    exhale,    all    the    tension    leaking    out    of    her    body    with    it    :    fists    unclenching    as    well    as    her    opening    her    eyes    to    look    more    closely.    «        fuck.        »    and    that    one    is    final    :    she    turns    around    to    face    him,    visage    both    horrified    &    hopeful.    apology    stuck    in    her    throat,    maybe    we    can    adopt    or    our    family's    already    enough,    no    ?    but    this    ?    she    doesn't    know    what    to    say    to    this,    the    frenzied    look    in    her    eyes    giving    her    away    quite    easily.    «        how    did    tha'    happen.    we    ain't    ready.    lake.    do    we    even    know    what    babies    eat.    do    babies    eat.    wha    did    we    even    want    one    they    ain't    doin'    anythin'.    jesus,    i    reckon    am    gonna    need    to    google    search    everythin'.    carey.    am    so    bad    at    researchin'.        »    she    might    be    hyperventilating.    «        we're    fucked.    god.        »    

[returnn-of-the-mac]

Hello! Sorry to bother, but could you possibly do the companions +Maxson reacting to Sosu begin almost killed by a raider in power armor because the raider stepped on Sosu (Who had been previously knocked down) and the raider just slowly keeps adding pressure. I'd greatly prefer romance, if I may. Thank you for your time! I also apologize if this is too graphic, you don't have to do this if it's too gross.

I got really into this one. I’m a sucker for the romanced companions. Please enjoy!

FO4 (❤️) Companions (+Nick, Deacon, & Maxson) React: Sole Getting Slowly Crushed By a Raider in Power Armor

Sole and their companion had spent the greater half of the day attempting to take over Outpost Zimonja from a group of Raiders, and they appeared to have the upper hand.

Just when they thought they had taken out the final Raider, Sole was roughly picked up and slammed onto the ground facedown.

The Raider boss— a man in power armor who called himself Boomer— placed a foot on Sole’s back.

Sole yelped in pain, and the Raider boss let out a sinister laugh.

He stepped on Sole harder, this time resulting in a sickening crack.

Sole’s eyes began to water, and Boomer looked menacingly at [companion].

Preston:

“Is this really necessary?” Preston pled, “How you Raiders get satisfaction from torturing others is beyond me.”

Boomer laughed thunderously.

“Because,” he said, pressing down harder on Sole, “It’s fun to watch them suffer.”

Preston clenched his teeth. He didn’t have the manpower to take down the Raider.

Or did he?

“Now are ya gonna do anything? Or is your little friend gonna be squished like a Radroach?”

Preston set off a flare.

Boomer did not take kindly to this.

“Why I oughta—“

Crack!

Preston used the butt of his musket to crack the Raider’s helmet.

Before the Raider could fight back, he was brought down by the force of about ten bodies tackling him in unison.

The Minutemen had arrived.

Preston ran over to Sole, helped them up, checked to see if they were okay, and then got right back into the heat of the battle.

The surprise ambush had severely weakened Boomer’s armor. He eventually succumbed to the relentless attacks.

“Thank you, everyone. We couldn’t have defeated him without your help.”

When the Minutemen had dispersed, Preston approached Sole and pulled them into a hug.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he whispered, “I love you.”

Hancock:

“If you think I’m just gonna sit her and let ya step all over my friend here, then you’ve got another thing comin, punk,” Hancock threatened.

Boomer laughed.

“Yeah? And what’s a ghoul gonna do about it? I could probably snap ya in half between my pinky and my thumb.”

Hancock smirked before reaching into his coat and pulling out a syringe of psychobuff. He injected himself with it, and his mouth immediately contorted into a deranged grin.

“Shoulda quit while you were ahead, pal,” Hancock stated before charging at the enemy.

Boomer staggered a bit, buying Hancock enough time to whip out his knife and stab the Raider’s helmet.

His drug-induced jabs were strong enough to smash through the protective facepiece and right into the Raider’s eyeball.

“ARGH! My fuckin eye!”

Hancock didn’t stop.

He stabbed the raider in the face so frantically that his enemy had become almost unrecognizable.

Boomer fell to the ground just as the drugs began to wear off. Hancock then pulled out his shotgun and blew the man’s head off.

After he was sure Boomer was dead, he helped Sole to their feet, pulling them into a tight embrace.

“That’s what he gets for messin with us, doll,” the ghoul rasped, gently petting Sole’s hair, “I’m just glad you’re doin okay.”

Gage:

“Boomer! What the fuck,” Gage hollered, “Back off!”

“Aw, looks like Gagey’s getting soft, ey?” The raider taunted.

Gage growled.

“You n your little clique here has done nothin but cause problems. We sent ya out here to claim this turf. And ya have. But for yerselves. You lyin, greedy sacks of shit,” the raider continued, “And now yer gonna crush the fuckin overboss? The fuck’s the matter with ya? They already want you dead over in Nuka World. Why not give em another fuckin reason?”

“Do ya think I give a rat’s ass about the overboss, Gage?” he hissed, “The last one ya picked was a fuckin tool. Screwed us all over. How can we trust this one ain’t equally as shitty?”

Boomer chuckled and pressed down harder, causing Sole’s nose to spew blood.

Gage had had enough. He picked up a molotov and whipped it straight into the Raider’s head.

The force of the throw caused the fiery bottle to shatter across Boomer’s face, prompting him to roar in pain.

“Fuck you, Boomer,” Gage as he cradled a severly injured Sole in his arms. He looked at them softly, “Sorry ya had to suffer like that, babe. Ya gonna be alright?”

Sole nodded and Gage gave them a tight hug.

“Yer a real trooper, bo

Cait

Without hesitation, Cait whipped out her baseball bat.

“That’s it! I’m gonna bash yer skull in ye bastard!”

The redhead proceded to furiously whack Boomer on the arms, legs, chest, and head.

The Raider chuckled before lifting Cait off the ground and throwing her behind him like a ragdoll.

Cait hit the ground with a sickening thud before hearing Sole cry out again.

Boomer was crushing them.

Cait racked her brain for ideas when she spotted it: the fusion core.

She gripped her bat tight and bashed the core with all her might. It shattered into a million pieces.

The power armor went limp and she charged into it, effectively knocking Boomer to the ground.

She pulled out her shotgun, ripped off Boomer’s helmet, and stuffed the barrel into his mouth.

“You sure do know how to show a girl a good time,” she scoffed, pulling the trigger.

She scrambled over to her lover, sitting them upright.

“Yer safe now. Please, talk to me darlin,” she pled, slightly shaking Sole. Hert companion groaned and cracked an eye open.

“Yer alive! Oh, thank god!” She exclaimed, planting a rough kiss on their cheek, “I knew ye wouldn’t let yerself die to a spineless raider!”

Piper:

“Stop! You’re hurting [him/her]!”

“You got a good set of eyes there, doll.” Boomer hissed. He applied more pressure to Sole’s back and they let out a weak cry.

“Oh god…”

“Ya gonna try tah free em, or am I gonna haveta crush em?”

Piper racked her brain for ideas, but she was so flustered she couldn’t think of any. He was frozen.

The raider applied more pressure and Sole’s nose started to bleed.

“Blue! I—” before she could finish, something caught her eye. A note.

Boomer if we fucking find out where you’ve been hiding.

We’re coming after you. And we’re going to fucking murder you.

-Shank

Piper grabbed the note and held it up.

“Look bud. I know you’re in some hot water with the raiders, and I happen to be a reporter,” Piper announced, “Let my friend go, or I will make sure every raider across the Commonwealth knows where you’re hiding. Got it?”

Boomer growled.

“Why you little— I oughta— I— argh! Fine!” He said, stepping off Sole and kicking them to the side, “This weak fucker ain’t worth sparin with any of the raider gangs.”

He turned on his heels.

“Not a fuckin peep about my whereabouts. Got it, bitch?”

Piper nodded. “You got it.”

When Shank was out of sight, Piper lifted her injured companion into her arms.

“Oh, Blue. I’m so sorry I couldn't help you sooner than I did,” she cried, “But I’m so happy you’re alive!”

The reporter proceeded to shower her lover in kisses as they weakly clung to her.

MacCready:

“What’s your problem? Let [him/her] go!”

Boomer laughed, “Yeah. I don’t think that’s gonna happen, little man.”

MacCready grit his teeth.

“How much do you want?”

Boomer stopped laughing, his face suddenly serious.

“How much you’ve got to offer?”

MacCready laughed, “Look dude. I know how this goes. I’m not going to be the first to number drop. You want the caps, you name the price.”

Boomer rolled his eyes.

“Fine. 2500.”

“A little high, dontcha think?”

Sole glared at MacCready. If looks could kill, the merc would be six feet under. He caught their gaze and winked at them.

“2300.”

“Do I look like I’m made of caps, pal,” MacCready pressed, “2000 and you got yourself a deal.”

“Fine! Fine! Just give me my fucking money.” Boomer huffed.

MacCready fished through his duster and pulled out the caps.

The Raider greedily accepted the caps and turned around to walk away.

MacCready then helped Sole to their feet and briefly assessed them to see if they had any life-threatening injuries.

They didn’t.

Before Sole had the chance to rip MacCready a new one,however, he gave them a quick peck on the forehead, equipped his sniper, and climbed onto a bluff.

Boomer was still in plain sight. MacCready smirked as he aimed for the fusion core and shot.

He saw Boomer’s armor go limp, before watching him crawl out.

“Excellent.”

The merc aimed for the Raider’s head, held his breath, and pulled the trigger. He watched his enemies head explode, creating a shower of blood and skull fragments.

He then slid down from the bluff and ran up to Sole, pulling them into a hug.

“Before you kill me! I knew the only way to get him off you was to offer caps. I didn’t want to esculate the situation,” MacCready explained. He planted a gentle kiss on the top of Sole’s head, “I didn’t want to risk him hurting you. I didn’t...I couldn’t...I wouldn’t be able to watch you suffer like that. I love you too much.”

Nick:

Ting!

Something barely noticeable hit Boomer’s armor.

“The fuck was that?” He asked, looking around, “Was that you,tin can?”

“Says the guy in the power armor.”

“Yeah, whatever. It was probably a bug or some shit.

Nick smirked and put away the syringer rifle he was holding; the Raider was completely oblivious to the hack dart he had been struck with.

“You know Boomer, I think it would be more badass to crush [name] with your fists. I mean anybody can get crushed. It happens all the time.”

Sole looked horrified, but Nick continued.

“But to crush the life out of someone with your fists, Now that. That’s nothing to scoff at.”

The raider contemplated for a moment and agreed.

“You know what, grandpa? You’re right.”

Boomer picked Sole off the ground with the intent to squeeze the life out of them.

Sole closed their eyes and grit their teeth. They couldn’t believe Valentine, of all people, was a traitor.

“This is gonna be fun” Boomer growled, “Rest in pe—“

He suddenly dropped Sole.

“Hey what the hell?”

He then started to punch himself in the face.

“What...the fuck...is...argh! Goin on!?”

“Stop hitting yourself,” Nick teased, controlling the power armor’s actions, “Why are you hitting yourself?”

“Leave me—argh! Alone!”

“Fine, fine,” Nick agreed, putting down the controls, “Run along now, Boomer.”

“Yeah, I will! And Tenpines Bluff is gonna get the blunt of my anger!”

“He just had to push it, didn’t he?”

Boomer turned on his heels and fled.

Just before he was out of sight, Nick pressed a button and the power armor exploded, instantly killing the hostile Raider.

“Yeah, he isn’t going to be messing with any settlements on my watch,” Nick stated, while walking over to his lover. He held out a hand and Sole accepted it.

“Glad to see you’re alright, dear,” Nick said, pulling Sole into a hug and giving them a kiss on the cheek, “Now. Shall we get moving?”

Curie:

“[Name]!” Curie called, “I will get you vree!”

“Like hell you will.” Boomer called, swinging at Curie. She dodged, and then pulled out a knife.

“Zir! I eenzist you stop!”

Boomer grabbed at her and tried to fling her to the side, but Curie clamped onto his arm.

“H-Hey! Get off!”

He tried shaking her off, but she wouldn’t budge.

“Eef power armor ees anyzing like human anatomy, zen— ”

She swung her knife under the crack between the helmet and the chest piece and sparks went flying. She had severed one of the most important wires in the suit.

“Aha!”

“Argh! You bitch, what the hell did you do!? My power armor ain’t workin!”

Curie took a deep breath and calmed herself before mustering a powerful voice, “Leave or eet eez you’re neck...uh...zir!”

The raider grumbled.

“Fine, whatever. This dump ain’t worth all the trouble anyway.”

When the raider had stomped out of sight, Curie giggled.

“Did I zound zcary, [Madame/Monsieur]? I’ve been practicing my inteemidating voice!”

She helped Sole up and pulled them into an embrace.

“I’m zo glad you are zafe, my love,” Curie whispered, “I was truly worried.”

Danse:

Danse didn’t hesitate— he charged directly at Boomer in his own set of power armor.

The raider was taken aback by Danse’s swift response and staggered a bit.

Danse used this moment of hesitation to deliver a powerful blow to the enemy’s fusion core.

“Shit!”

Shards of glass flew in every direction, the dead suit slumping into a useless pile of metal.

Boomer was forced to crawl out of the suit and meet his opponent face-to-face.

“Not so tough now, are you?” Danse asked, towering over the Raider.

“Fuck you,” Boomer cursed, “Why don’t ya come outta your power armor and make it an even fight?”

“I’m not fighting for entertainment purposes,” Danse explained, trying his hardest to keep his cool, “You tried to kill my friend, and I’m not standing for it.”

“Yeah? And what’s stoppin me now, huh? Just cuz I don’t have fancy armor doesn’t mean I ain’t gonna kill [him/her]!”

“You lay one finger on [him/her], you’re dead,” Danse growled, “Leave. Now.”

“Urgh. Fine. None of ya’lls are worth my time anyway. I’ll just go slaughter some stupid settlers. They’re easy pickins anyway.”

Just as Boomer turned his back, Danse picked him up and piledrived him into the concrete ground. The force of the impact made the Raider’s head splatter.

Sole looked appalled and Danse furrowed his eyebrows.

“I...I didn’t mean for his demise to be quite so...barbaric. I just couldn't stand by and let him walk free knowing he was going to murder innocent civilians,” Danse shook his head, “But enough about that. Are you okay, [name]?”

Sole nodded and Danse smiled. He planted a gentle kiss on the top of their head and opened his arms as if to embrace them, but playfully ruffled their hair instead.

“I would have given you a hug, but I’m sure you’ve exceeded your crushed-by-power-armor quota for the day.”

Maxson

“As the Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel, I order you to let my partner free.”

“Big talk from a little man in a fluffy jacket.”

Maxson clenched his fist. “You’re digging your own grave, punk.”

Boomer smirked.

“Oh, really? Well, what are you going to do about it?” He hissed, pressing down on Sole’s back harder. Sole let out a yelp.

“This!” Maxson tossed a signal grenade and within seconds two Vertibirds appeared overhead.

“What is this shit?”

A storm of bullets rained down on the Raider.

“ARGH!!”

Sole got pelted by a few bullets, but the Raider absorbed most of them.

The next thing they knew, Sole was being lifted off the ground

“You’re safe now, sweetheart. Don’t worry.” Maxson reassured, carrying Sole to the nearest Vertibird, “I wasn’t going to let that scoundrel crush you.”

When Sole and Maxson made it into the aircraft, the Elder planted a kiss on their forehead.

“We’ll have Cade examine you for injuries, but you should be alright. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Deacon:

Deacon— who had managed to strip down to his underwear and throw on a brahmin skull— started clapping, prompting Boomer to raise an eyebrow in confusion.

“Wha—?”

“Congrats! You’ve passed!” Deacon exclaimed.

“Passed? Passed what? Who the fuck are you?”

Deacon pretended to be surprised.

“Wha—you don’t know me? I’m Bones. From HQ? I was sent out to test the raider bosses. Yanno, see if they can hold their own against intruders.”

Boomer scoffed, “Well of course I fuckin passed then. I ain’t no pushover.”

“Right,” Deacon smirked, “Well, you’ve earned yourself a shipment of supplies. Just clean up the corpses and let my partner go.”

Boomer nodded and stepped off Sole. Sole took a few moments to recuperate before scrambling to their feet. Deacon winked at them,

“Thanks. We’ll be on our way now.”

When Sole and Deacon had gotten far enough away from the raider boss, the duo loaded up a Fat Man and sent a mini nuke his way.

“Enjoy the shipment, jackass!”

[spiritofchaoticdreams]

Miraculous life swap, Maribat AU: Party planning

________________________________________________________________

With Mari in Paris

(Marinette is sitting on her bed fixing a torn stuffed animals eye all the while humming a song. Her phone rings and she lights up at seeing who's calling her, in a video chat nonetheless!)

Marinette: Timmy! Hi! 

Tim: Hey Mari!

Marinette: (stereotypical princess voice) To what do I owe the pleasure of your call? 

Tim: (puts his hands up) Just wanted to say hi to my best friend, do I really need an excuse?

Marinette:(laughs) Don't let Chloe hear you say that. 

Tim:(laughs) She will have to pry that title from my cold dead hands!

Marinette: She might actually try to do that you know

(There's a crash in the background, and Tim's shoulders droop down  and Marinette hears someone yelling about a demon spawn popping balloons)

Marinette: Tim? Everything okay over there? Is that Jason yelling? Did Damian do something to balloons?

Tim: (quickly pulling his phone close to block his surroundings) Huh? No! Everything is fine! We’re just a little busy! Yeah we just got a new puppy! We're planning on having a party for him! Inviting all of our friends dogs to welcome him to the family! What would be the best present for a puppy?

Marinette: (suspicious) A puppy? Really now? I thought Dick resented that nickname.

Tim: (nods) Okay you got me, I overdid it with the puppy party thing. Truth is we're planning a party for Dick and we need help. Please Mari can you help us?  

Mari: Yes of course, but leave the baking to Alfred. Lord knows you can’t bake to save your life. 

Tim: It was one time Mari! 

Marinette: You almost burned down my kitchen, Papa still doesn’t want you near our kitchen. What kind of present you thinking of MA original? 

Tim: (yawns and shoulders slump) Yes please, we were hoping for a shirt or a sweater. Do you need his measurements?

Mari: No problem! I still have his measurements from the last time I saw him, I might even be able to throw in a Jagged Stone autograph too! (frowns) Timothy Jackson Drake! Have you been sleeping properly!

Tim:(sits up straight and tries to not let the exhaustion show) Yes Mari! I've been getting the recommended 8 hours of sleep!

Mari:(nods and smiles softly) I'm glad to see you taking better care of yourself Timmy

*5 min later*

Marinette: All set! I should have it finished by the end of the month!

Tim: (smiling) Thank you Mari you're amazing!

Mari:(smiling) Oh and Tim?

Tim:  Yeah?

Mari: Don't lie to me again and don't even think about bringing about a puppy party into it ever again. 

___*****line break*****___

With Tim in Gotham

Tim breathes a sigh a relief as he ends the call, and he hears the floorboard creak. Looks over his shoulder. Jumps when he sees Damian (who looks like he was caught red handed)  in his room

Tim:(teasing tone) Hey demon spawn! Watcha doin' over there?! 

Damian:(trying to hide his face and huffs) I came over here to bring you back to the living, Alfred and Jason are still debating the flavor of the cake, did you manage to get a present? 

Tim:(laughs) Yeah I did. So you're sure that the reason your blushing has nothing to do with the fact that I was on the phone with Marinette? The same girl you call a literal angel and the same girl who happens to have the biggest crush on your alter ego?

Damian:(ears turn red) N-no! Why would that matter! She’s just one of the honorary Waynes that doesn’t irritate me as much as the others.

Tim: (does the  (≧ω≦) face)

Damian: Just shut up and come and help us already! 

Tim:(baby voice) Aww demon spawn has a crush! If you want I can help you out with confessing! (regular voice) Even though she is my best friend and is pure sunshine and should be kept a thousand miles away from your demon spawn butt. 

Damian: (Holds up Tim's unlocked phone) Keep it up Drake and I'll tell Marinette about your recent all nighters! 

Tim:(looks horrified) DAMIAN NO! SHE WILL COME AND TAKE MY SOUL! SHE’LL TAKE YOURS TOO FOR LETTING ME DO IT!

(Tim gets up and chases after a smirking Damian.)

The end!

(Author’s note) I don’t really think this counts as Daminette so I’m just leaving it under Maribat. Hope You enjoyed! Question: does this count as TimxMari?

Edit: this is implied damianette and platonic TimxMari thank you @enchanted-nerd !

[something-tofightfor]

Someone Else (Billy Russo x Reader)

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Word Count: 6000 (ON. THE. DOT.)

Rating: R. Mentions of violence, casual sex, Punisher S1/ partial S2 references. 

Summary: The first Halloween spent with Billy after his name has been cleared doesn’t go quite according to plan. 

Author’s Note: This is for @forever-rogue​‘s Halloween Challenge. It’s technically a one-shot, but it takes place in the same AU as Restart - a few months before that one.

I chose the three following prompts: 

“I hate costumes. There is no way in hell I am dressing up.” 

“Is that red syrup? Please tell me it’s syrup.”

“10 pumpkins for our porch? That seems excessive.”

If you wanna be tagged in something (or removed!) let me know.

General:

@the-blind-assassin-12 @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @obscurilicious @sweetybuzz25 @suchatinyinfinity @lexxierave @gollyderek @poindexted @ificouldhelpyouforget @elanor-of-imladris @thesandbeneathmytoes @luminex3 @geeksareunique @weallhaveadestiny @mfackenthal @thesumofmychoices @yannii04 @beautiful-thinking @drinix @agentlingerie  @blah-blah-fuckit-shit  @dreams-with-thoughts  @wangmangagavroche​

Billy Russo:

@nananananananananananabatman @damalseer @chibiyanai @life-is-a-melody @songtoyou​

Uncategorized:

@banditthewriter​ @padfootagain​ @madamrogersstorytelling​ @ethereal-heavcns​ @editboutique​ @marauderskeeper​ @ilkaeliseb​ @delicatelilyflower​ @king4thesirens​ @ymariejp​ @mr-robot-x​ @rageshots​ @littlemermaidprobz​ @introvertedlibrary​ @writing-for-a-chance​ @yesixoxo @ilikebeachessushiandsmallanimals​ @likeorions​ @swiftyhowlz​ @dylanobrusso​ @malik-payne​ @lynne1993​ @traeumerinwitzhelden​ @ladyblablabla​ @dreamwritesimagines​ @audreychaz​ @tc-elliot @kind-wolf​ @honeyydippaa​ @binbonsadoration​ @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes​ @ms-delos​ @jeanettexkillian​ @avengerswhore​ @elioelioeli0​ @projectcampbell​ @giggleberts​ 

“I’m comin’ home, you there?” You cleared your throat, reaching out with one hand to adjust the pumpkin you’d just placed on the top step.  I am. “Want me to stop and grab dinner?” 

 “No, Billy.” You sighed, turning and planting yourself, feet flat and looking out at the street. “I’ll cook, I can go in and start now that I know you’ll be back soon.” He laughed and you heard the noise of cars honking in the background. 

 “You’re outside? What are you doin’?” A door slammed and the traffic noises stopped. He just got in the car, means he’ll be here in less than twenty. 

 “You’ll see, Billy.” Tilting your head to hold the phone between your ear and shoulder, you looked to your right at the orange gourds that lined the steps. “I’ll let you go so you can focus on the road.” He laughed again, quietly agreeing with you and even after you’d hung up the phone, you stayed seated, eyes on the pumpkins and a small frown on your face. Things were slowly getting back to normal for the two of you, and Billy - along with Frank and Curtis - had just re-opened Anvil. You knew that even though the company had initially been founded with dirty money, Billy’s goal was to help others like himself - displaced military vets that still wanted to serve and protect those around them, and so after the trial had ended - Billy (and Frank) getting cleared - going back to what he knew had been a logical step. 

 You’d moved into the Brownstone before he’d been officially exonerated, and though he’d been deemed a flight risk, Matt and Foggy had been willing to vouch for Billy, proving that he’d need to stay in New York City for his continuing medical care  - and that he had something else that would stop him from leaving: you. It had taken months of patience and convincing, but when armed with the truth, Billy had been more inclined to believe that you’d never stopped loving him, and had started to forgive himself for what he’d done to everyone. That happening had been like flipping a switch; memories started coming back, interactions with Billy seemed more real, and with each passing day, Billy’s wounds - both on the surface and in his mind - healed further. 

 You glanced down at your left hand, the glittering diamond still shocking you with its presence, and smiled for a moment before standing and heading for the door. Billy’s proposal only ten days after winning his case had been a total shock. You knew that he cared for you, knew that he loved you, but hadn’t thought that he’d ever actually ask you to marry him, even though you’d hoped it would happen at some point. But he did. Hand on the doorknob, you looked back over your shoulder at the steps, taking one last breath of the crisp Autumn air before you entered your house, the door clicking shut behind you. 

 --- 

 Thirty minutes later, you were pulling chicken out of the oven when you heard the front door close again and Billy’s heavy footsteps moving down the hallway toward you. “Hey.” Grinning, you turned to face him after putting the baking dish down onto one of the unused stove burners. “So, there are like 10 pumpkins for our porch? That seems excessive, doesn’t it?” Making a face at him, you shrugged your shoulders. 

 “It’s Halloween, Billy, I just… I don’t know, it looks nice.” Narrowing his eyes, Billy stepped toward you, one hand up and moving slowly over the top of his head, the hair there still short. “It’s the first real holiday that we’ll have here, and …”

 “Yeah, I know.” Billy cleared his throat. “I just… you expectin’ trick or treaters?” No, but… “This isn’t the neighborhood for that, maybe in our old buildings, but not…” He sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t even think there are kids on this street.” There aren’t, but we’re so close to Central Park… “They wouldn’t come here anyway, where we live ain’t exactly a secret.” 

 “Billy, what is that supposed to mean?” You stepped toward him, shaking your head. “We live in the nice neighborhood now, that means we’d have good candy.” He didn’t even crack a smile and so you stepped closer, reaching up to put a hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong?” He looked down at you, lips twisted into a frown and shook his head, jaw working as he clenched it. 

 “You know how everyone looks at me, what they think.” Billy swallowed, shaking his head and moving his hands to your waist. “When we go out? When they come in to Anvil, when I’m walkin’ down the damn street… people are afraid of me, you know? They see… this shit.” He gestured to his face, nose wrinkling. “They see it and they look horrified, and they know.” You lifted the hand from his shoulder to his face, thumb moving over the scar on his cheek, entirely visible above his neatly trimmed beard. “They know what they saw on TV and they know what she still says, and…” His grip on you tightened, and you didn’t know if it was a conscious movement or not, but you didn’t mind. After waiting almost two years to feel his hands on you, you didn’t take any of his touches for granted. 

 “Billy.” You closed your eyes for a second and then opened them, raising the other hand to the side side of his face and forcing him to look at you. “They don’t know shit. Madani’s never going to let it go, she still thinks…” You trailed off, shaking your head. “She’s got it out for you, and I understand it, but look at Anvil. Look at how many recruits you have. They believe in you. They… trust you, Billy, and want to work for you and with you.” His frown lessened, brow smoothing out. “People know you, Billy. That’s true, but they just recognize you. Think about how they look at Frank. He’s The Punisher, Billy. It doesn’t matter that his name was cleared, that’s still… God, and if you think people are afraid of you? Imagine how they feel about him.” You didn’t need to say it; the scarring on Billy’s face was a constant reminder of what Frank was capable of - and Billy had been his best friend. He had his reasons, but… 

 “You’re right.” Billy licked his lips, nodding. “You’re right a lot.” You winked at him, and before you could respond, Billy ducked his head to kiss you, hands leaving your hips, his arms circling your waist. “And they look nice.” He kissed you again, sighing. “The pumpkins I mean.” I know they do. “So what’s for dinner?” Laughing, you pinched his cheek and turned away from him. 

 “Chicken, Russo. Chicken and rice.” 

-- 

 “I hate costumes. There is no way in hell I am dressing up.” You fought back a smile, watching as Billy held the invitation up, shaking his head. “Karen thinks she can just-”

 “Billy, if Karen sent that invitation, and it says ‘costume required’, you will be wearing a costume, or you won’t be going.” You shrugged. “You know how she is, better than anyone except maybe Frank.” He grumbled, setting the invitation down on the countertop. “Let me see that.” Pushing it over toward you, Billy crossed his arms over his chest, watching silently as you picked up the card, eyes moving over it. Party at the Anvil facility the Saturday before Halloween. Costume mandatory for entry. “We’ll figure out a costume, Billy, it doesn’t have to be -” 

 “I’m not going.” He shrugged and your jaw dropped as you looked up at him. “If I don’t wear a costume, then I don’t have to -”

 “Billy, that’s bullshit.” You stepped over toward him and jabbed a finger into his chest, shaking your head. “They invited you. Karen wants you there. It’s our friends, Billy. Your friends.” He sighed, not meeting your eyes. “Look.” You pressed your lips together. “Come sit.” Leading him to the living room, he lowered himself onto the couch, pulling you down onto his lap and encircling you with his arms as you laid your head against his chest. You sat quietly for a few minutes, you thinking about what you wanted to say. He can only get mad, it’s not… “Billy, do you realize what Halloween is?” 

 “What?” He scoffed. “A holiday for kids to dress up and scare each other? For adults to get drunk and -”

 “It’s a chance to be someone or something else.” You sat straight up, fingers on the top of his head again, nails scratching over his scalp. “You think that people look at you funny? You don’t want them to see your face or see the scars? This is the perfect holiday for you. Wear a mask, put on face paint, whatever, but you don’t…” You closed your eyes, shaking your head. “You wanna be something different? You can be, for one night.” 

 “I already…” He sniffed. “For more than a year, I pretended to be someone else.” Oh. “I woke up every mornin’ and put on a goddamn suit and I went to work and it wasn’t me, but it was who I had to be.” His hand moved up and down your arm, the other one resting on your lap. “A lot of it’s still… not there yet, but I remember feelin’ like it wasn’t real, none of it.” He pulled you closer, and you felt his nose in your hair, lips pressed to your temple. “I remember the way you looked at me, the first time you saw me after I… when we weren’t together.” Oh, no. “That was real. And if that’s what it feels like to be someone else, I don’t want to. Not ever again.” 

 “Billy, that’s not what I meant.” You tilted your head, reaching up again to stroke his cheek with the back of your finger. “I know what you still think of yourself, right? You think that all of this makes you…” You swallowed. “Ugly. But it doesn’t. It’s a part of you, Russo. I told you once before that any of your scars coulda come from anything, and I still mean it. I don’t care that you have them. I’m always going to be proud to be seen with you.” His lips jerked, is if he was trying to conceal a smile, and you continued. “I love you, Billy. I never stopped, even after… even when you were in the hospital.” 

 “But you knew.” He shook his head, voice quiet. “You knew because you had all that shit I left you, and so you had… fuck, you had everything and it still almost wasn’t enough.” This isn’t even about Halloween anymore, what’s happening? “After what I did to you, you should have hated me. It doesn’t matter why -” 

 “Are you kidding me, Billy?” You sat up straight, shaking your head and shifting on his lap, your hands on his shoulders. “Never.” His eyes narrowed, darkening, but it wasn’t in the way you loved to see, instead it was what you’d gotten used to seeing when Billy was angry with himself. 

 “I’m not. Even knowing what you did, I can’t believe you didn’t just take all that money and leave me to fuckin’ rot in that hospital and then in jail. I didn’t actually do it, but I killed the Castles. I -”

 “Billy, you did it to save me.” Your voice quiet, you leaned in, pressing your forehead to his and shaking your head. “How could I abandon you? If you hadn’t ever met me, you would have warned Frank. You would have found a way to make it right. You wouldn’t have had to choose…” You paused, taking a deep breath. This hasn’t come up before, not like this. “I didn’t want your money, Billy. I wanted you. Just you. How many times am I gonna need to tell you that?” You felt the skin of his face tighten as he curled his lip, his hands gripping your hips. “I would have figured something out even if you hadn’t left me anything.” 

 You kissed him, lips pressing against his for a moment and then took a deep breath, trying to steady your heartbeat. You knew he still felt guilty and always would, even though he’d had a logical reason for making the decision he had. He’ll never feel as guilty as I do. You knew that even though Frank and Curtis were working with him at Anvil, there’d always be a chasm between the three of them even if it only existed in Billy’s still partially fractured mind. But there doesn’t have to be. “I thought I was gonna die that night, on the carousel?” Billy cleared his throat, voice low. “I figured I’d leave you everythin’ that meant anything to me, and so at least you’d know, right? I wouldn’t be here with you, but I… I didn’t deserve to be, so I was doin’ what I could to…”

 “Billy.” You closed your eyes and let out a breath, pulling your face back from his so that you could look into his eyes again. “You deserve to be here. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to …” You trailed off, eyes going to your left hand. “You did a lot of bad shit. You and Frank did a lot of bad shit, but you…”

 “I had a choice. We had a choice, at least somewhat. I didn’t have to… I was selfish. I wanted to be someone, and I took the coward’s way out, and I -”

 “Billy, you did what you had to do to survive. You didn’t start Cerberus. You didn’t start the heroin smuggling. You didn’t assign yourself all those shitty missions.” It’s not an excuse. Not at all. “You can’t tell a superior no over there, Billy. You had no reason to believe they were lying to you guys, and by the time you figured it out…” You shrugged. “It was too late. And then it was just you trying to keep your head above water.” Billy let go of your waist with one hand, his fingertips moving over your brow and then into your hair as he frowned, lower lip jutting out slightly. “I love you, Russo. It took me too long to say it before, and I know you didn’t want to hear it while you were in the hospital, but this is another chance for you - and for us - and I’m not going to waste it.”

 “It’s more’n the scars.” He sniffed, fingers curling in your hair and pulling gently. “It’s how I feel on the inside sometimes.” Billy paused and you waited, silently. He’d refused to see a psychiatrist after what had happened with the one they’d appointed him in the hospital, but you knew that he was still attending Curtis’ group sessions once a week and speaking with the man one-on-one more than that in an attempt to vocalize his feelings. “I feel…” Billy licked his lips. “I feel ugly. Like people can look at me and see everything that’s wrong with me.” Billy looked down, his other hand leaving your waist and you dropped yours from his shoulder, twining your fingers with his without hesitation. Giving his hand a squeeze, you continued to wait. “I… like with Madani.” You flinched at his use of her name, but gave no other reaction. “She looks at me and sees the man that killed her partner, the one that shot her, that didn’t give a shit about her, but still…” He let out a breath, the air leaving his lips in a shudder. “She looks at me like I look at me, like everyone should…”

 “Stop.” You spoke firmly. “Billy, she’s obsessed with you. She can’t… she looks at you that way because it helps her sleep at night to pretend she played no part in anything that happened. She used you for information about Frank, about Cerberus, about Rawlins and about everything. She let herself…’ Fall in love with you? Care about you? “...get in too deep, too quick, and it backfired on her, and she doesn’t know how to handle that. They tried to pin everything on you and Lewis because they didn’t want to admit that the CIA was…” You shook your head. “She still thinks you’re faking it, I’m sure of it, thinks you remember everything and that…”

 “I remember her, but I don’t remember her.” He leaned in, breath warm against your cheek as his mouth moved toward your ear. “An’ I kinda hope that I never do, because…” He stopped. “Because I don’t know what would be worse - remembering that I was just usin’ her too, or remembering that part of me cared about her.” You knew that this was possible; Billy hadn’t been able to remember what his feelings for the woman had truly been, but you weren’t worried, even though you knew it bothered him not to know. “I know I didn’t love her.” He sighed, mouth lingering against your skin. “I know that for sure, but…” You moved your hand to the back of his head, fingers spread out against the soft, close cropped hair. I know. “But we’re gettin’ sidetracked,” he murmured, teeth closing gently around your earlobe. “How’d we go from talkin’ about Halloween to talkin’ about her?” You shrugged, unwilling to separate from him even though it seemed that the topic was closed for the moment. Oh well. “If I gotta dress up, I guess I have to pick a costume.”

 “No mask?”

 “No mask.” He kissed your cheek, pulling away and leaning against the back of the couch, his hand dropping from your head to your shoulder and giving you a small smile. “I can’t hide this. They’re part of me now, right?” You nodded. “We’ll figure it out. But right now?” He cocked his head to the side, the small smile replaced with a larger, more genuine one. “We need to eat, because I had a long day at work and you know what that means.” You bit your lip and stared at him for a few seconds before pulling yourself off of his lap, holding a hand out to him. Cheeks growing warm, you nodded. I know exactly what that means. 

 --- 

 “Billy, we’re going to be late!” You were finishing with your accessories - slipping on large, gold hoop earrings and securing your gun belt around your waist and over your shoulder. “I’m going to call the Uber, and…” He didn’t respond, so you rolled your eyes, turning away from the mirror and reaching for your hat. In the time between receiving the invitation from Karen and the night of the party, you and Billy had traded ideas for costumes with each other - and when he’d finally told you that he chose something for himself, you’d been thrilled. It’s about damn time. 

 You’d picked your costume out quickly, opting for a pirate outfit that consisted of an off the shoulder white blouse with billowy sleeves that was long enough for the tattered ends to double as the bottom layer of the skirt, peeking out from beneath the actual skirt - royal blue with golden edging and a layer of black lace. A blue, white and gold brocade-patterned vest, a pair of over-the knee- black boots and your hair secured over one shoulder with the ends curled completed the look. Perfect. 

 Billy wasn’t downstairs either, and as you moved from room to room, searching, you began to worry. I didn’t hear him leave, where is he? By the time you made your way back into the front hall, phone in hand, you were considering calling him, but the creak of the steps stopped you. Eyes moving up, you felt your breath catch as you saw Billy’s legs descending the stairs. Oh my God. He was wearing a suit - not one of the ones he’d worn during the trial, but a new one, the sleek material clinging to his body in all the right places, and though you’d seen him naked plenty of times, felt his body beneath your hands and mouth, you were struck by how much healthier he looked, how much he’d filled out after leaving the hospital. “Billy, I -” He reached the bottom of the steps, hand gripping the railing and your words caught in your throat again as you saw his face. Billy had been growing his beard out for almost two weeks, refusing to shave, not even cleaning up his neck… and now you knew why. Though short and sparse in some areas, Billy’s facial hair was back to how it had been prior to him leaving you, prior to him getting into the fight with Frank. He looks… and his hair, rather than being so short it was almost buzzed was almost long enough for you to tug on, the front already growing back into the casual drape over one eye that you’d missed. Holy shit. 

 He eyed you, not speaking as you did the same to him, gaze lingering on the way his hands looked, emerging from the ends of his sleeves, the way that the jacket was pulled taut over his broad chest, the way his tie - a deep red - was knotted tightly around his throat, standing out from the bright white of the shirt beneath it. He’d always looked good in suits, but you’d never thought that he would choose to wear one as a costume. His face, he… The look on Billy’s face was familiar to you; a cool, collected confidence that was enhanced by the set of his jaw, the faint gleam in his eyes. This isn’t Billy, it’s Mr. Russo. Is this his idea of a costume? The thought - and a slight discomfort with it - only stayed in your mind for seconds until Billy spoke. “You like?” He raised one eyebrow, the smirk on his face growing and you finally laughed, clapping your hands as you stepped toward him, one hand going to his chest. 

 “That’s so good, Billy.” The smirk had revealed one pointed tooth, but your reaction caused him to smile broadly, revealing the other. Vampire Billy. Jesus take the wheel. The hand not on the railing reached into his pocket, pulling out a flask that was made to look like a blood bag and you laughed again, shaking your head. “It’s simple, but it’s good.” He stepped down and toward you, causing you to step backwards, his hand wrapping around your waist as he pressed his lips to yours gently, not wanting to smudge your lipstick. “C’mon, I’ll order the car, we can wait out on the porch.” 

 Pulling out of his grip, you opened the app on your phone, entered in the address for Anvil, and ordered the ride, telling Billy that it would be to your place in ten minutes before turning and walking out the front door, skirt moving around your thighs. 

 “You can’t wear that in public.” Billy spoke from behind you, still standing in the doorway. “That skirt… everyone’s gonna look at you and…” You looked over your shoulder at him, setting your hat and phone down on the brick ledge. Yeah, it’s Halloween, that’s the point. “You gotta put on pants or tights or somethin’...” He frowned, biting down gently on his lower lip, the points of his teeth visible in the overhead light. 

 “That’s why I picked it, Billy.” You stepped toward him, reaching up for his tie. “Wanted you to have easy access.” His eyes widened and you tugged him forward, fingers closing around the silk. “Putting pants on would defeat the purpose.” He sighed, lowering his face to yours as the door closed behind him. “Besides…” Your teeth grazed his cheek. “Anyone that would hit on me at Anvil in front of you has a death wish.” Billy finally laughed, arms going around your waist. 

 “You’re right.” He kissed you on the jaw, sighing again. “Was your costume expensive?” You shook your head, telling him no, and before you could get another word out, he spoke again. “Good.” One of his arms rose, taking your hair into his hand and pulling your head to the side, exposing your neck to him. You cried out as you felt a pinch against your skin, Billy biting down, and then the next thing you knew, you felt a warm liquid trailing down your neck and toward your blouse’s collar. He fucking bit me? Your grip on his tie tightened and you pushed against his hip with your other hand. 

 “Billy! What…” He stood up straight and your eyebrows shot up as you saw red around his mouth and dripping down his chin. “Is that red syrup? Please tell me it’s syrup.” Billy grinned, shrugging his shoulders as his tongue moved across his lower lip, your hand pulling away from his tie to go toward your neck. “Billy, you bit...”

 “It’s fake blood. Stop.” He pulled your hand up to his mouth, stopping you from touching your own skin and dropping another kiss to the inside of your wrist, leaving another bloody mark there. “Now it looks like -” You cut him off as you lunged forward, mouth on his as you kissed him hard, tongue slipping past his lips as you raised both arms, hands moving through his hair. He held you close, and though you knew that when you pulled apart, you’d have the fake blood all over your mouth and lower face, you didn’t care. He’s trying to make sure… Billy before the Incident wouldn’t have worried that you’d look elsewhere - that you’d let anyone else catch your eye… but now? He was terrified that you’d wake up one day and look at him, deciding the scars and his past were too much. Since you were pulling him out of his comfort zone and into the center of a large crowd for the party, he was doing his best to take control of the situation -  marking you as his, as if the large diamond on your finger wouldn’t do the job. Billy pulled back from you to take a breath, the tips of his fangs catching on your lower lip as he straightened his shoulders. “I - shit.” You frowned, unsure of why he’d stopped - until you heard another voice. 

 “Going somewhere, Russo?” This fucking bitch.

 Billy’s entire demeanor changed as you turned to face the street, fighting to keep your expression even as your eyes landed on the petite woman standing on the sidewalk in front of you. “What do you want, Dinah?” The way he said her name, nearly spitting the word from his lips did nothing to stop you from thinking of how it had sounded months before, them talking over drinks, in her bed, in her office… Stop. “We’re a little busy here.” The woman laughed, stepping closer to you and you watched as she put her hands on her hips, leaning forward. 

 “Yeah, I can see that. Guess even now you can’t help yourself when it comes to women and blood.” You felt Billy freeze next to you, his arm still around your waist, and you were suddenly reminded that you were in fact messy with fake blood, as was Billy’s face. “Maybe if you’re lucky, he’ll help you clean it off later,” she sneered at you, shaking her head. “He’s good at that.” She’s trying to rile you up. But you’d seen the video, Billy in the  interrogation room, talking about how he’d bathed the blood from her body, how he’d been in her bed, the words falling from his lips with no emotion behind them, no life in his eyes. “I just wanted to congratulate the two of you.” Madani shook her head, licking her lips. “I never manage to catch both of you at the same time, and I didn’t want to waste the sentiment.” Her eyes moved up Billy’s frame and you caught the slight intake of breath as she finally laid eyes on his face, the worst of the scarring hidden by his beard - looking almost exactly as it had when she’d met him. “What a catch, hmm? A mass murderer? Someone with no remorse?” Her eyes moved to you, and though she was nearly ten feet away, you caught a glimmer of frustration behind the anger in them before she spoke again. “ You believe he’s changed? You accepted the bullshit story -”

 “We’re done here.” Billy straightened and you tore your eyes away from Madani, looking up at him. “You need to leave. I don’t care who you are, this is where I live, and you’re not welcome here, Madani.” The other woman laughed turning to the side and gesturing toward the sidewalk. 

 “I’m on the sidewalk, Billy.” She shrugged. “Just taking a walk.” No, you’re harassing him. Us. Before you could say anything else, your phone pinged and a gray SUV pulled up in the empty space behind Madani. Thank God. You pulled away from Billy, walking to grab your hat and your phone before you made your way down the steps. Billy followed closely, one hand on your lower back, fingers barely applying pressure, but as you reached the bottom of the steps, Madani’s hand shot out, grabbing your elbow. “You’re going to regret this. Regret him.” 

 Tearing your arm from her grip, you took a step closer, eyes narrowing. “No, I won’t. I’m not you.” Without another word, you turned away, reaching for the handle on the SUV’s back door, sliding into it, Billy close behind. Though you didn’t turn around as the car pulled away from the curb, you knew what you would have seen if you did - Madani, with a smug look on her face still standing on your sidewalk. The driver eased into traffic and you finally took a deep breath, closing your eyes. She just wanted to ruin your night, she had to know about the party somehow. 

 “I’m sorry about her.” Billy’s mouth was close to your ear, his voice low. “We can move, I got the money, we can -”

 “No. She’s not going to chase us from our house, Billy.” You sighed, leaning into his chest. “We’ll move when we’re ready, she’s just trying to piss me off and get you to react.” He kissed the top of your head. “I hate her, Billy, but I feel sorry for her, too.” He asked you why, and you shrugged your shoulders. “Not because of you, but because it’s been over a year and she’s… she’s still stuck, Billy. It’s like what the court decided wasn’t good enough for her, even though it was enough for everyone else.” He coughed, leaning down to speak into your ear. 

 “I shot her, you know. One day we were sleepin’ together and the next… she found out about me, an’ then I…” He swallowed, burying his face in your hair and inhaling deeply. “She’s never gonna leave me alone, not til she gets what she wants.” But what does she want? “She’s not gonna get it, though… because I have nothin’ for her.” Deciding to let things go for the night, you blinked, turning your gaze toward the window and watching as the lights passed in a blur. Billy didn’t speak again until the driver had stopped in front of the low brick building that housed Anvil’s headquarters, letting you out onto the sidewalk. “Don’t you dare bend over,” he said as he walked behind you, one hand stuffed into his pocket. “I mean it, if I even catch a glimpse of someone else starin’ at your ass…” You laughed, reaching for the door handle. 

 “Don’t worry, Billy. I’ll make sure if I do bend over, it’s in front of you.” He scoffed, but before he could reply, you were inside the lobby, the music that you’d been unable to hear through the soundproof exterior walls and doors filling your ears. Reaching back for Billy’s hand, you led him to the main training room, which had been off limits for the previous two days as Karen, Marci and Curtis’ girlfriend decorated. Damn, this looks incredible. The whole space had been transformed, and even Billy let out a low whistle as his eyes moved over the crowd; people in various costumes spread out through the open space. 

 You saw Foggy and Marci - the woman dressed like a cat and Foggy wearing a lab coat and stethoscope, but before you could move toward them, you heard Karen’s voice calling your name. “You look amazing!” Turning to face her, you grinned as you saw her costume - a tight black dress that showed off her long legs, the only adornments a big silver buckle on her waist and another on her pointed hat, which sat askew on top of her head, golden curls cascading down her back. She had a broom in one hand, holding it off to the side as she hugged you, her eyes widening as she took in the side of your body that Billy had had his mouth on. “A...bloody pirate?” You grinned and shook your head, pointing at Billy. “He’s just wearing a…” But he reached his hand out and Karen put her free one into it, watching as Billy brought it up to his lips. 

 You saw the slight movement in his jaw as he bit down on one side and heard Karen’s surprised gasp as she pulled her hand away, a glistening red spot where Billy’s mouth had been. “Not just a suit, Miss Page.” Karen laughed and Billy grinned, showing off his fangs as he pulled you to his side. Karen pointed out the food stations and the photo booth, and just as you were about to drag Billy away, he cleared his throat. “Where’s, ah… where’s Frank?” Karen’s smile never faltered as she gestured toward the bar, and before you could stop her, she’d stepped forward, linking her arm with Billy’s. 

 “We’ll go see him.” Billy hesitated - you all felt it - but still walked forward and toward it. Curtis was standing in front of it dressed as Captain America with his girlfriend, Delia, who’d chosen to dress as an angel. Fitting. But Frank’s costume actually made you laugh, the sound erupting from your mouth before you could contain it. Billy’s going to kill me. 

 Hearing you, Frank turned, beer in hand and his eyes moved over you and then Karen before finally settling on Billy. “Hi, Bill.” Frank swallowed, raising his beer to his lips, and before the tension got too thick, the man cleared his throat. “Want a beer?” Billy nodded next to you and you felt him relax. 

 “If I’da known that I could get away with wearin’ a military uniform…” The five of you laughed, Frank handing Billy a beer bottle, which he raised and took a long drink from immediately. “Nah, I’m kiddin’, I don’t think I’ll be wearin’ a uniform again any time soon, but it suits you, Frankie.” The nickname slipped from his mouth before Billy could stop it, and though you heard his breath catch, Frank just grinned and reached over, arm going around Karen’s shoulders. “It does, doesn’t it, Bill.” The six of you made small talk until your stomach growled and Billy excused the two of you to get food, his hand never leaving your body. 

 “Thank you,” he said as you loaded up your plates with finger foods. For? “For makin’ me come here.” Billy swallowed, one hand moving to the back of his head. “I needed it.” We both did. You ate silently for a few minutes and then Billy cleared his throat, raising an eyebrow. “When you’re done, we should go upstairs.” He paused, running his tongue over his teeth, eyes darkening. “Got somethin’ to show you in my office.” 

 Setting your plate down, you nodded, heart beating quickly. “I’m done now, Billy.”

---

[detectivejigsawpines]

A mind is a terrible thing to lose

“What other choice do we have?”

For a moment there was silence between the two old men.

Then Stan looked at his twin sharply.  “Tell me somethin’, Poindexter.  Have you ever made a deal with the triangle that didn’t end with ya bein’ screwed over one way or another?”

Ford blinked.  “Well-no, but-”

“Yeah, but nothin’.  I’m not doin’ that.”  With that, he began shrugging out of his suit jacket, and then untying his tie after he shrugged out of the sleeves and let it drop to the floor.

Ford’s expression was a comical depiction of disbelief: eyes popping, mouth hanging open, eyebrows up in his bangs.  After a second, though, he remembered how to use his mouth.

“Stanley, what are you-have you gone mad?!”

“Probably.”  Stan pulled his tie off, and began unbuttoning his shirt.  “I’m gonna need your sweater.”  He looked down at their respective pants.  “...Both black, so he might not notice if they’re the same, but I’ll need your boots too.”

At which point Ford finally caught up with his brother’s thought processes.  “...You can’t be serious.”

“Watch me.”  The younger twin held out his clothes.  “We don’t have much time, hurry up!”

“Stanley, you don’t understand!  If I use the memory gun on you, you’ll be-!”

“And Bill will be gone forever, and the kids won’t have ta grow up in this hellhole!”  With his free hand Stan gestured at the chaos of the world around them.  “It’s worth it, Stanford!”

Ford looked like he’d been poleaxed.  “Stan…”

“It’ll fix everything,” Stan insisted.  Ford feared that there was an unspoken, And you were gonna kick me out at the end of the summer anyway, so it’s not like I’ve got anything ta lose at the end of that sentence.

But he finally gave in to his brother’s impatient glare and removed his coat and sweater, handing them over and taking Stan’s clothes.  Then he silently exchanged their shoes and put on Stan’s fez, while Stan fluffed up his hair and worked on changing his voice to match Ford’s.

“Heh, this is gonna be like that time when we tried ta fool Ma so you wouldn’t haveta go ta boxing,” he said with a gruff laugh, clearly hoping to pretend that his hands weren’t trembling a little as he pulled on Ford’s gloves (stuffing the extra finger holes with pieces of wadded-up tissue that had been in his pocket).  Then he admitted more sheepishly, “...Course, we better hope Bill’s less perceptive than she was.  From what I’ve seen, though, he’s gonna be too busy gloating about ya ‘giving in’ ta notice much.”

Ford didn’t say a word.  His mouth started to open as they grabbed onto the bars of their cage again, but then Bill was back, with the kids clutched in one hand, and there was no time for him to say what he’d been thinking.

It’s not worth you, Stanley.

********

Grunkle Stan wasn’t gone.

He wasn’t completely back... but he was there.  He’d been found again.

The despair that had enveloped the family in the forest began dissipating as they laughed over Mabel’s eccentric scrapbook entries.

After a while Stan, Mabel and Soos dozed off, all relaxed against each other and drooling shamelessly.

Dipper, exhausted as he was, wasn’t ready to join them just yet.  Gingerly he slipped free of the armchair, and began making his way through the debris towards the kitchen.

“Dipper?  Where are you going?”

The boy froze up at the sound of his other uncle’s voice-and was startled by the feeling of his fists inadvertently clenching.  Quickly he opened them and said, keeping his voice low, “Just gonna see if we have anything salvageable to eat.”

He went on into the kitchen, and tried to pull the door closed behind him-except that only half the door was still there.  Dipper sighed, and got a chair to help him climb onto the counter and begin searching the cupboards.

Nothing...nothing...a few cans of partially eaten brown meat (ugh)... and nothing.

Dipper forgot about eating and went out to sit on the front porch.

Ow, everything hurt.  He rubbed his sore arm, and wondered if the hospital was open-if so, it was probably crowded with everyone else in town.  Soos had said that as far as he knew, they were all still alive, but his primary interest had been finding the Pines family as soon as the chaos ended so he didn’t know for sure-

Ford stepped outside, looking far less stiff and straight-backed than normal, and joined Dipper on the sofa.  And without warning, Dipper looked up at him and asked, “How could you?”

His tone was more devoid of awe than it had ever been when he was addressing his idol before.  Ford froze, breath hitching, and stared down at him.  Dipper continued, voice rising a little, “How could you do that to him?!”

Logically, Dipper knew why, of course.  The metal plate in Ford’s head meant that they couldn’t erase Bill out of it, so Stan was the best choice for that course of action.  But to be able to use the memory gun on your own twin, and basically destroy everything they were-he could never imagine doing that to Mabel, no matter how messed up things might become between them.

Ford let out a choked sound, and his shoulders drooped even more.  “It was our only option left, Dipper-”

Something exploded in the boy’s brain, and he leaped to his feet.

“IT WOULDN’T HAVE BEEN OUR ONLY OPTION IF YOU HADN’T TRIED TO CORRECT HIM ON HIS STUPID GRAMMAR!”

It had been a rough indeterminate amount of time for Dipper recently.  He’d spent three days (sort of, since time didn’t really exist during Weirdmageddon) constantly fleeing for his life and hiding from everything, nearly lost his sister to an evil bubble, gone through the entire emotional spectrum several times over, and been forced to watch his family and friends almost be destroyed by a giant Dorito in a top hat.  All his pent-up anger and hurt wanted someone to blame for all that, and it had just found a perfect target.

“YOU COULDN’T STOP FIGHTING WITH HIM EVEN THOUGH THE WHOLE WORLD WAS AT STAKE!”  Dipper couldn’t remember the last time he’d yelled at someone like this, waving his arms in the air and just ranting every angry thought that came into his head like an ugly tidal wave.  He was surprised the others hadn’t come out to investigate the noise; maybe they were so tired they were sleeping through it.  “YOU JUST KEPT HURTING EACH OTHER, OVER AND OVER, AND NOW GRUNKLE STAN BARELY REMEMBERS ANYTHING ABOUT WHO HE IS BECAUSE YOU-”

The tirade was brought to a halt by the most unlikely sound: a small, quickly drawn-in inhale through the nostrils; specifically, a sniffle.

And when he looked at Grunkle Ford again, he was horrified to see silent tears spilling down his face.

It was the second time Dipper had ever seen Ford cry.

The first time had been when he was holding Stan, but all he’d really seen of that were his uncle’s trembling shoulders, and when he finally pulled back there’d been damp trails on his face and on Stan’s (technically his) coat.  Seeing it happening right in front of him, though, was more than a little frightening.

“No, Grunkle Ford, I-I didn’t mean it-!”

“You’re not wrong.”

His uncle was holding himself, huddling into his trenchcoat and burying his fingers in the sleeves, and he was still crying.

“No, I’m sorry!”  Dipper climbed back onto the sofa and, unsure of what else to do, began digging around in his vest pockets in the futile hope that he might have some tissues.  “I didn’t mean what I said!”

“You did mean it, Dipper,” Ford corrected him softly.  “People who are angry are more likely to be honest about their feelings.”

“But it wasn’t fair to you!”  Dipper finally found a scrap of cloth that seemed relatively clean-he wasn’t sure where it had come from, but decided not to worry about it for now-and offered it to him.  Ford looked at the cloth in confusion for a moment, then took it and used it to rub under his eyes and clean his glasses.  “This wasn’t all your fault-Grunkle Stan could’ve calmed down, or I could’ve not fought with Mabel, or a lot of other things could’ve happened instead to fix all this.”

“But a great deal of it is my fault-specifically, everything that happened to Stanley because I trusted Bill.”  His hands shook, and he balled the cloth into one of them in a tight fist.

Dipper wasn’t sure what he should do...until at last he decided to act on his instincts, Mabel style.  He climbed into his uncle’s lap, and hugged him gently around the middle.

********

When they had both calmed down somewhat, Dipper murmured, “...I think I need to go back to Piedmont with Mabel.  I’m sorry, I know you really wanted me to stay, but-”

Ford shook his head.  “That is completely fine, Dipper.  I wouldn’t want to be taught by myself either.”

“No, I wasn’t-I was thinking maybe when I’m a little older, like after we finish high school and Mabel’s gone off to some fancy art school in New York or something-”  both of them laughed-  “then we could talk about that apprenticeship again...but I don’t want to be separated from her for the rest of our teenagehood.”

Ford nodded thoughtfully, and leaned back against the sofa.  After a moment he said, “You’re a wiser man than I am, Mason.”

Dipper didn’t know if he agreed with that, but he leaned against his uncle’s chest with a small sigh, and finally allowed his eyes to close.

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

A Not-so-pleasant Visit (Sriracha, Part 43.)

Series description: A problematic college student gets the worst summer job of the ‘83 - Jim Hopper, the Chief of police in your hometown will have you as his secretary since his old lady Flo has two months lasting holiday. It was agreed so Hopper could keep you far away from all the trouble.

Part Summary: Diane brought storm into your lovely household. But that was just the beggining of your trouble. 

A/N: Yeah, we do not stan Diane that much in this house. 

Word count: 2.5K

Tagging:  @nemodoren, @missdictatorme, @ysljordy, @creedslove​, @hopperlover, @btchsm, @rita-lean

Master list: H E R E

Series playlist: Jim Hopper 😠

GIF SOURCE

From the moment you realized who Diane is, your hospitality had completely disappeared. You heard about the things she had done to Hopper... Well... She didn't do anything in particular with having bad intentions, it was their relationship falling apart which made them do some hostile things Jim wasn't proud of at all. You had something that could be called a conversation, yet it could be felt that you were stiffened and nervous and it was nothing to wonder about.

"So, I see that Hopper had re-married again." - Diane smiled at you a bit, taking a piece of your homemade cake which you gave to both her and boy. You took a good long look on your left palm, watching the golden ring on it before you nodded with a small smile as well. - "I wouldn't ever suspect him to do so, he was totally against that when we were getting married." - Diane sighed, giggling at that memory a bit.

"Didn't seem to be the case now, he was proposing twice, and soon as he was sure that I'm not going to flee, he just made me do it. And it makes me happy." - You said back with a chuckle, seeing Diane having that weird face you do when you pretend that everything is totally fine, but it isn't fine at all. She almost said something else when Eleven came to the kitchen by the back door. As soon as she saw Diane, her lips opened with a slow-witted. But seeing you made you relax a bit since you weren't alone to listen to your Husband’s ex-wife bickering.

Immediately, to show Diane who’s at home in the house, you went to hug Eleven, kissed on her forehead, and started a chit chat about her day at school and then the hangout with her friends. When she left to have a shower and to put on some clothes the wore at home, it could be seen that Diane was becoming a bit unnerved.

"Who was that?" - She wondered, gently putting a hair lock behind her ear. You pointed after El with a gentle smile, sitting back on the chair. Jim was supposed to arrive soon and you were supposed to leave for your work an hour away from that moment. You hated night-shifts since usually when some kid was ridden to your office, it was during the day. Yet, you've heard about some nasty car crashes happening at night too.

"That was Jane, but everyone calls her El here. She's our daughter." - You told her, serving some fruit on the table too, now being completely calm about you and Hopper. Yet Diane seemed to be surprised. She wasn't expecting that at all.

"She's at the same age Sara would be now... Did you and Jim adopted her?" - Diane asked with a small wrinkle between her eyebrows. It was far more complicated than a simple adoption, but you didn't have the time and patience to tell Diane all of that. Plus, she would just think that you're coo-coo and in your eyes, she wasn't worthy enough to hear the whole story behind the town called Hawkins, Indiana.

"More or less, yeah." - Was the short answer you got out before you heard the lock clapping. It was Hopper dressed in the police uniform and he did look ridiculously hot. His Chief hat was a turn for you back then, yes, but you'd watch that ass in those tight brown pants for days. Without waiting, you walked to the door to hug him and to kiss him with your eyes closed. You knew Diane could see you leaning your forehead into his, having a contained smile on your lips - that was why you did what you did in the first place.

"I've missed you too, jeez. Since when you're so passionate again? Can I at least take the shoes off before you give me another of your lectures?" - Hopper chuckled into your face, already taking them down. You nodded, stepping away while you watched that ass leaned in front of your very eyes. For such an old man, he had a precious ass.

"Someone came to see us." - You said with a cold voice, shifting from a loving wife to a woman defending her territory in a matter of seconds. Jim looked into the kitchen following the motion of your palm, not having a single word to say once he saw her in the kitchen. Without saying a word, he shot his gaze to you and you shook your head in the most subtle way possible.

You didn't know what she wanted at your house either. - "El is having a shower, she'll most likely study or call the boys on their radios, so don't worry about her, okay?"  - You kissed his cheek, walking the stairs up to prepare your stuff for work. You wanted to leave the house sooner. A) you couldn't stand Diane being there and B) you knew that they need to talk about some stuff out. Whatever she wanted to talk about.

It took you half an hour to do some light make-up, brush your hair, pick some comfortable clothes, and so on. That was becoming quite difficult as well. Until then, the baby was tiny like a little bean - but soon, it will start to grow. Fast. To normal language, that translated to your belly not growing, yet it was about to. For now, your old clothes were just fine. But when you've read about the proportions of the baby, you could be wearing Hopper's old jeans before going to labor since you'll have the same waist volume as he had last summer.

Yet as your doctor said, there was no time to panic. It was still unclear whether you'll even finish the pregnancy in good condition. Jim was already standing at the door to walk you to the car with your jacket in his palms, ready to put it on you.

"I don't know what she wants, but I hope she leaves soon. I'll try talkin’ to her and we’ll see how that plays out, yeah?" - He asked you quietly when he walked to the car. He was also giving you the pre-prepared food you left on the countertop. You nodded, getting into the car with a furrow.

"I love you, have I ever told you that?" - Hopper leaned into the door to steal another kiss from you. With a contained smile, you nodded and brought his lips even closer than before, diving in. The pregnancy had one plus when you didn't count the change of moods or so. You were sometimes so horny that Hopper had to take care of you the whole night. And you loved that.

"I've heard that before, yeah." - You nodded with your typical answer, closing the door. He watched you leaving and only after that, he left to talk with Diane again. This shift was rather stressful for you - there was someone you were thinking of as an enemy inside your house, talking with your husband and showing a particular interest in him. That night, you haven't even fallen asleep since you were waiting for the call Hopper gave you every nightshift, sitting straight next to the phone in your office the whole time. But the call didn't come.

At least not at the usual time. Jim usually called around nine p.m. and talked to you about ten minutes before he wished you sweet dreams. This time it was around half-past ten and you were sitting there with a nurse named Veronica when another nurse, Natalie, came by. - "It’s Jim. He wants to talk to you and he sounds off." - Natalie told you worriedly and you nodded, leaving the food on the table, telling Veronica that you'll come as soon as possible.

"It's your lovely wife whom you forgot to call today on the phone." - You said jokingly, hoping that Jim would be on the same note as you were. Yet he wasn't. What the fuck was Diane doing there, for fuck's sake? He was drunk. He was drunk. Was she still there? Was she the one who made him drunk?

James hasn't any issue with alcohol nor drugs when he was with Diane. He got them after she left him and before he met you. That was some time back, yes, but... It was never too hard to get habits like these back. All it took was a little push. Which an ex-wife could do perfectly.

"Hey, hey. I thought you'd be angry since... You know... I haven't called you... Hey." - He sighed into the phone, clearly drinking more than one of his usual evening beers. That made you anxious as fuck. When Natalie saw you biting your nails, she told you to stop stressing about Jim since it could hurt your baby. You nodded and exhaled out loud.

"I'm not angry, James, I was... Is everything okay back there?" - You mumbled and looked on your shoes, furrowing a bit.

"Yeah, it's fine here, don't worry. How are you doin'?" - A quiet drunk mumble could be heard. James was far from fine, but what could you do about it? It was too late to tell him to stop drinking obviously. So what you did was that you sat down, smoothed your thigh, and exhaled out loud once again.

"Jim, what are you trying to hide from me? It has to do something with Diane... So... Be honest." - You asked quietly and closed your eyes, waiting on the phone for his answer.

"Y/N, you know well what she’s tryin’ to do ’ere. That's why she came here with her boy. It was a tactic to show me that she had somethin’ I would be interested in." - Jim sighed too and for a while, you were silent. It was just how you were terrified of it being. The scenario you worried about on the back of your head just fulfilled itself. And you were horrified because you didn't know what to expect from drunk Hopper.

"And would you want a son?" - You asked, leaning your elbows above your knees, biting your lower lip as you watched the posters in front of yourself. There were smiling mums with their kids, fairytale, and cartoon characters as well. It could be seen that you're in the part of the hospital where children normally are.

"What are you talkin’ about? What’s your point?" - Hopper sighed. You both knew that something is approaching in your direction and surely, you could be sure that it won't be a nice thing. Whether it was an argument about Diane or about you being pregnant, you knew you will be arguing.

"I asked you a question and you'll be the one to answer it, James." - You told him, gently closing the door to be alone in the room. In case you'd be screaming, you didn't want to wake any of the kids up.

"What a man doesn't want a son? But it’s how it is and I have a beautiful daughter." - Jim gritted through his teeth, which made you re-think the situation for a second. Before you got a chance to tell him something more, Jim was already starting again. - "I just wanted you to talk about how Diane was tryin’ to get inside of my head and how I'm feelin’, but sometimes, you're actin’ like a bitch."

"Excuse me, Hopper?" - You opened up your lips and looked from the window.

"You heard me." - Hopper told you. The first argument of your married life? Here it was. But James should know better than calling you out so blatantly.

"Lemme recapitulate, yeah? Your fucking ex-wife came from New York to woo you back and what you did, huh? Got drunk, as usual. You have such mood swings that I can't stand you at times, if I could, I would just fucking slapped you out of being a bitch." - You huffed angrily and Jim understood that there's no time to play around with that night. - "But even when you're being such an unbearable jerk, I still hadn't lost my nerve over you because that what I call love. And if you want a son and if Diane is so much better than me, then go on, I'll live here with El and the child who’s on way and I can do it with or without you."

With that, you put the phone down, slowly realizing what you've just said to him. The thing about the other kid. Was he drunk enough to understand what you even said? Or..? Your answer revealed itself when not a minute later, the phone rang again. It was Jim again of course.

"You want me to continue?" - You asked with your nerves on the top and voice cracking with stress. And you were ready to bitch his little ass down.

"Shut up with this shit, we can argue later. Did you meant what you said?" - He asked with a tone-dead voice.

"What exactly are we talking about? You and Diane...?" - You asked back, knowing perfectly what he meant. You were just terrified of saying those words out loud without being extremely pissed at the man.

"Y/N... Since when do you know that? Why didn't you tell me?" - Hopper lit up a cigarette, which could be heard by the significant exhale he did every time he has done so.

"Officially? Since we were in Maine. But my suspicion started after the wedding party." - You answered quietly, letting the things inside Hopper settle down.

"That’s... Almost three months, for fuck’s sake." - Hopper mumbled. He was surprised... You couldn't say if that's in a good way or the bad one... But he was surprised.

"Never had the chance and courage to talk about that, honestly." -  You said quietly. Hopper didn't know what to say, so you decided that it will be better to go. - "Need to go, Hopper, we have someone incoming. Bye." - You whispered and left the phone there without saying another word. So now he knew. And not only he was drunk, but he also had Diane there if he would need to... Relieve some stress. ¨

When you walked back to your food to sit next to Veronica, she looked at you with a furrow. - "I heard you yelling at him. I guess he knows now, hm?" - She asked and sipped her coffee.

"I guess he does." - You mumbled and looked on the leaves falling from the trees in front of the hospital. It wasnt clear what you should expect from Hopper at that point, he was unpredictable at that point. But he would get to know eventually, so you have just shortened the tension that would be in the house. - "I guess he does."

[bountybossier]

Until Dawn | Morgan & Nic

Takes place the day before the sun yeeted itself. Vampires, snowglobes, the family business.

with: @mor-beck-more-problems

The diary Morgan had borrowed from the Scribe archive had lead to some interesting revelations. First, that the scriptwriters for Final Destination might have been casters with a mean sense of humor, and second, that one of Agnes’ nieces had buried a chest under the homestead shortly before she met a gruesome end in an accident with some clothesline. The homestead had been lost some six years later, of course, but it was entirely possible that the chest remained, and with it, some dirt on what Constance’s deal was, or some artifact that explained why they had been targeted in the first place. And so,scuttling straight from a staff networking dinner at the University, still in her skirt set, Morgan found herself back in the bend at sunset, traipsing through some overgrown grass in search of a magic answer.

The tracking amulet in her hand tingled hot in her hand, leading her towards one of the glorified shacks along the street and around the back. Morgan crept awkwardly into the overgrowth and began to dig, unaware of anyone else nearby. The sooner she got in, the sooner she could get out.

The hunter treated himself to a small six-shooter of whiskey before he left to deal with the night’s bounty. It wouldn’t be a complicated one from what he read over. A palate cleanser in comparison to the other fuckery that poked about in White Crest’s moldy and sea-cured corners. It didn’t surprise Nicodemus that most of the bounties came for shit out in The Bend. The rundown motel he stayed in was somehow the safest, yet still one of the shadiest fucking buildings in that particular godforsaken corner of White Crest. He checked himself over subtly as he walked. Vest on, stakes in jacket, guns on hips, knives in boots and one strapped around a thigh. Holy water in a nice iron flask. The dark didn’t matter to him as he took back alleys and precariously hopped over decaying fences. The place indicated wasn’t too far and when he finally got to it, he nodded an affirmation.

Yup, sure looked like a fucking vampire drug den. Quiet. Foreboding. Sounded about right. He was just in it to get some dust. Except it wasn’t all entirely quiet. He stopped walking and listened. Something digging? He didn’t smell dog or any other type of critter. His senses would be no help. He stepped into the overgrowth with a crunch. If he knew that someone else was there, only fair that he did the same? He continued until he reached the end of the overgrowth and stood in a disgusting backyard. A brow rose as he made a slow 360 turn. He spoke up, voice low and level.

“This your shitty house?”

Morgan yelped at the sound of another voice and wheeled around, shovel raised high. “No!” Wait--that made her sound like she was trespassing. Which she was, technically, if this place belonged to anyone still. But the large scary man in front of her didn’t need to know that. “I mean, it’s not shitty, it’s--rustic! And what are you doing here, exactly?” She positioned herself over the hole she was digging. Until the stranger had shown up, she’d been sure she was almost there. “Weird time of night to be wandering around with--” She eyed the gear bulging from his sturdy frame. Shit. “--all that. Could be dangerous.”

“Rustic’s just a fancy way of sayin’ shitty,” Nicodemus grumbled out as he looked at her, a curious brow lifted ever slightly. At her question, he frowned and glanced up at the house. “...Scavenger hunt.” Was the only explanation he gave, flimsy and half-assed. He didn’t have to explain anything and who knew, maybe she was one of those sympathetic types like Orion? “What are you doin’ diggin’ around then?” Given his own shit explanation, he didn’t expect much from hers either. And that would be fair. What wasn’t fair was the crunch and rustle that had his nerves immediately on edge. Something hostile was getting closer and wasn’t likely to stop. “Yeah, likely could be.” He grabbed for one of the three stakes he had brought with him and immediately lunged, body slamming into a vampire that had started to run up on them. From behind them, he heard more. A hell of a lot more, maybe eight or so. Shit. “God fuckin’ damn it,” he grunted as he wedged the stake in the vampire’s chest, the body poofing. A young and dumb one. Hopefully the rest were like that. He turned to look at the woman and gestured to the house before he started to head up, not moving too far from her. “Fuckin’ A, come on! They ain’t happy!”

“Scavenger hunt,” Morgan repeated, voice shrill as she found herself caught between fear and incredulity. She didn’t exactly feel like doing anything to upset the big scary man with too many weapons on him, but his excuse seemed even thinner than her own. Morgan shifted and tried, discreetly, to reach down into the earth for the chest. “What? Don’t you ever bury things for safekeeping ever? That’s like one of the safest oldest ways in the book.” And if the chest really was just there beneath the surface, if she could just picture the simplest, most obvious way it looked, and pull-- a shape appeared out of nowhere, lunging her way. Morgan stumbled backwards with a sharp cry of fright. Big Scary Man took out a stake and wedged it into the chest as if he’d been doing it his whole life.

She followed his gaze into the dark and-- Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Better to be with the big scary man with the stake than the big scary vampires with the teeth. Morgan sprinted as best she could behind him. This wasn’t how she died, and it wasn’t going to be how she got maimed again either. She scampered up to the house and skidded to a stop, digging her fingers into the dirt and pressing down with her forearm until her cuff was firm in the ground as well. Morgan pushed with all the ‘I really don’t wanna get maimed today’ energy she had brimming at the surface. The earth in front of her dipped and sandy bricks walled the space between the vampires and the ramshackle house. Morgan closed her doors before she could form a whole perimeter. Bricks would never hold for long in the first place, but maybe she’d have a few extra minutes to come up with something better. She darted inside and shut the door, kept running. How many ways to get in were there? “So! Uh, how many of those stakes do you have? And uh, how many doors in this place do you think we got?”

Nicodemus glanced back in time to catch the dirt shift and pull at the woman’s beck and call. Alright. Infinitely in a better spot than he would have been had it just been a regular person digging in the dirt for whatever fucking reason. “Nah, not a scavenger hunt. Sure I had you goin’ for a second,” he deadpanned, a less-than-pleased frown on his face as he started to move through the house. “Lookin’ for treasure then, huh?” The bricks would do what they could, but hungry vampires could get through anything when they wanted to. He grumbled angrily to himself as he pushed open a weak door and it collapsed right off the hinges. Fucking fantastic. “I got…” Fuck. He’d left the one he used outside. “I got two.” He took out one and handed it to her as he checked corners. The house was much larger on the inside than it was outside. He swore in French. Listening, he heard the bricks breaking apart against each other. “Looks like three. One front, that back door, and a side door. Maybe a...” He rattled off the information to her as he pulled open a basement door. “Yup, a basement. That’s not countin’ every goddamn window.” They were shuttered and planks hammered over them but still. He shook his head and looked at her. “I’m thinkin’ basement or upstairs. Funnel ‘em.”

“Two! Okay! One for me, and one for you! That’s fine, that’s totally plenty, definitely not gonna run out and wish we had more!” Morgan was rambling with panic. She was getting distressingly familiar with tumbling headfirst into near death situations; if she barrelled on determinedly enough, her mind and body might not catch up to each other in time for a full blown freak-out to set in. “There wouldn’t happen to be anything super special about stakes would there? Like could you rip the floor open with your big scary hands and use that in a pinch? Is that a stupid question?” Bricks crunched outside as the vampires burst through her wall. Morgan’s brain flitted between her options. Upstairs: a long way to fall. Basement: a lot of house to collapse. Not much of a way out either way. The house trembled. Glass rained down overhead, unseen. Some of them were coming in from above. Morgan gave the Big Scary Man a horrified look. “So, Scary Basement?”

Whatever it was that compelled the world to spin, it truly was testing Nicodemus. He didn’t know how to deal with panicking people. That was the main reason he tried to keep things out of sight, out of mind. A month or two in White Crest proved that trying to keep up with that method would be useless. “Just don’t fuckin’ lose it and you’ll be fine,” he said to her, expression grim. There wasn’t much confidence behind that statement but it was something at least. “Nah, if it’s wood and got a stabby point, it works.” He glanced at his hands, brow furrowed. Yeah, he supposed they were big and scary. Big and scary enough to work against potentially drugged out vampires. He stared at her. “Ease up there, you ain’t gonna die. Probably. I don’t plan on dyin’ so just...stay by me or some shit.” His gaze flickered up at the crash of glass and windows. To the side at broken brick. “Basement, come on. Probably got shit down there too!” He opened the door and gestured in. As he stepped down, a minute-long stretch of French swears flowed out of him at the sight of empty coffins. “Well, that’s just real fuckin’ groovy.” He thought back to her question about stakes. “Lose that, use that.” The basement door cracked open and the first of the vampires started to filter down. The hunter didn’t wait and barreled at the first as soon as they came down, stake in hand.

“Who said anything about dying? You think we’re gonna die?” Morgan shrieked. Footsteps thumped overhead, sending dust down on them. Don’t lose it. She wasn’t losing it. This was only the what time she was questioning fate and mortality in the past month? Was this why her mom hadn’t wanted her in a supernatural hotspot? Because freak falling accidents could turn into chased and maimed by vampires in the hands of the curse? But Morgan wasn’t losing it! She scampered down to the basement, her mind only thinking a few seconds ahead. Don’t trip on the stairs and break something! Don’t run into the terrifying coffins! Morgan didn’t have time to say, we’re totally cornered, before there were vampires coming down the stairs. 

“Fucking stars!” She squealed, jumping to the ground. The big scary man was handling things on his own just fine, with all the punching and slamming and staking. She looked at the stake in her hand. She wasn’t sure how she could work up that much force in her arms to make that happen, but then again, there was one jumping the rail and coming at her, fang bared and eyes blazing. “No!” She put out her hands and pushed, not with physical force, but with the energy around her, with her fear and her exasperation. The vampire flew against the stair railing, hard enough to crack the wood. Morgan looked uncertainly at the big scary man. At least she hadn’t been hit yet, right? Then again, the vampire was already getting to its feet and looking several kinds of unhappy. Morgan moved her attention to her stake. How much force would she need to use that again?

“Fuckin’ Christ, no! We’re not gonna fuckin’ die.” His hearing and her shouting forced him to flinch. Nicodemus was preoccupied with the vampire quite literally at hand. The hunter a year ago wouldn’t have thought much of the swarm of vampires, alone or not. But now? White Crest opened something in him, or maybe it tried to put something messily back together with schoolhouse glue, that he had left well enough alone in him. He glanced over at the stranger as the vampire underneath him burst into ash and dusted the basement floor. His heartbeat was slow and steady in his chest even as the swarm of--ten, he counted--fell in line on the stairs. What he wouldn’t have given for a big fuck off spear. 

He reached for the iron flask on his hip and took a swig of it before he swiftly closed it back up. Another vampire crashed down on him and took him off balance. Fangs tried to close around his neck but he spat holy water straight into the vampire’s open eyes and mouth. Undead skin sizzled and in their momentary daze, Nic shoved the stake up and into their still heart. Alright. That made two. He felt eyes on him and he snapped up onto his feet. “In and up! Leverage it.” Ah hell, the vampire she’d shoved away was pissed and he was dealing with another one bearing down on him. “Fuckin’ A, take this! Holy water!” He passed over the water to her and quickly knelt down to grab one of the coffins. With his strength, they weren’t too heavy and he flipped it toward the closest vampire to smash them against the wall along the stairs that led up into the main house. Broken bits of wood burst everywhere. He grunted and rolled his wrist that held the stake. His expression grew slightly more enthused. “Yeah, they ain’t gon’ make it easy, huh?”

Morgan had the stake in the air, primed to thrust. When the vampire she’d thrown lunged, she sent it in, full force--in and not quite up. For an awful moment she and the vampire looked at each other, expecting something very different. Fortunately, a small scary bottle of holy water came her way. Morgan popped it open and swung, letting water arc over the vampire and turn its flesh into something much less stable than marbly skin. This was her chance. Morgan knew it. Still, she couldn’t help but whine wordlessly as she rushed forwards and worked the stake upwards as the man had instructed. She kept her hands fastened on the stake and shoved it upwards. The writhing vampire turned to dust. Morgan didn’t have time to contemplate her victory, a vampire was grabbing her by the arm and shoving her against the wall. Morgan cried out and shoved the stake in again. She had to get out of this corner. Morgan reached with her power for one of the coffin splinters and sent them outward to the next one chasing her as she scrambled to join the hunter (he had to be a hunter, right?) on the other side of the basement. At least one had to land, right?

As the vampire on her collapsed to dust, Nicodemus breathed just slightly easier. He wasn’t getting tired but he was concerned they’d run out of goddamn resources. Fuck, this was why he didn’t commit himself to the hunter mentality of protect all from certain, supernatural death. He shook his head, cracked his jaw as a vampire slugged him. He knocked the vampire in the nose and scraped his knuckles on sharp teeth, but managed to use the shock to his advantage as he burrowed the stake in with cold calculation. He laughed with bloody teeth. “Good shit,” he grunted out as she came to stand by him, both equally covered in vampire ash and dust. The splinters of wood she sent out seemed to pepper the remaining vampires and one gave a sharp scream of an inhalation as a particularly large one dug into their chest. He would need to look into some kinda stake launcher if he kept this shit up. 

Either their numbers were starting to slow down or they were doing a decent fucking job for a ragtag team. And just when he almost started to feel good, another showed. He glanced up, to a small boarded up window. If that was blown open, they wouldn’t be able to hide from the dawn that would steadily creep up. “Got an idea. Gonna need your help, alright?” He flexed his fingers around the stake and reached with a free hand to grab the handgun on his hip. “Gonna bust that fucker open--” He gestured to the window. “And block that door. A few hours, sun’s gonna come. Take care of this shit. Can’t go anywhere.” He spoke fast as he shifted and glanced back. “Plenty of wood and shit we can barricade with back there, I think. Keep ‘em back.” He glanced at her. “Sound good?”

There was something strange about the Big Scary Man as he spoke to her that made Morgan uncomfortable. Something that was almost warm. It was out of place in a room full of vampires and their dust. But this wasn’t time for uncanny epiphanies or evaluating the guy as anything other than the person helping her to not die. “Block the door,” she repeated. “Got it. Easy enough! Y-you’ve done this before, a lot, huh?” She began to inch towards the door. If there was any metal in the lock, it would make a good start. There was still the wall. She was feeling kinda tired, almost spent. Again. But not getting maimed was always a good reason to blow the magic piggy bank. She braced herself for the sound of his gunshot and tensed to run.

“Yeah, more than I fuckin’ care to admit. Just punchin’ in time,” Nicodemus muttered to her before he spat blood. Without much of a warning, he free-aimed at the window and blew five 9mm holes into it. In the basement, the gun was loud and he braced against the impact of his sensitive ears. The wood was old and hadn’t much give to it, the way that it fractured and splintered outward. Moonlight spilled in. He grunted and turned on his heels, eyes between her and the undead that stood between them, their gazes unsure of where to look. Bracing his gun hand underneath with the hand that held the stake, he spent the rest of his clip hitting skulls as he backed up toward the small room at the back of the basement that could be made into a temporary safe haven. Behind the smoking gun, he peered over at her and loaded another clip. Bullets wouldn’t put them down but they’d be enough to stun. “You got it?”

Morgan sprinted as soon as the bullets were done flying. Guns. Of all the fucking things, it had to be guns. Worst of all, she was relieved he had one so they didn’t have to separate. Once inside the smaller room, a storage cupboard, by the looks of it. There were even some questionable looking cans still on the rotted shelves. She reached for the table by the door and shoved it in front of them. Then the shelves. “Help me!” She said. When there was a sizable pile, Morgan reached down with a ‘this is seriously not the time to get maimed or die’ push and turned it all into a heavy mush of wood and metal that was definitely not supposed to exist but would, in all events, keep them safe. “So,” she said, backing to the end of the room, breathing hard from the rush, “You um, have a name?”

“Give me a fuckin’ second.” The hunter followed close behind and followed suit in stacking as much heavy shit as he could against the door. A grunted string of Cajun French happened under his breath as Nicodemus gently tested the barricade just to be sure. If that’s what it could be called. Yeah, it’d hold for the next… He scrubbed vampire dust off his watch and squinted. Couple hours. Christ. At least by the end of it, the sun would be out and there’d be more dust than he or the client ever asked for. To little success, he tried to clean his bloody and dusty face. With ash stuck in his eyelashes, he turned to look at her with a frown. “...yeah, fuck it, might as well start a damn campfire…” For all his grumbles and French swears, he was too tired to be genuinely bothered by the circumstances. It worked itself out. He sat down heavily and tipped his head back against the wall. “Sure do. Nicodemus. You?” He peered over at her. Fuck, his head was killing him. “Magic, huh?”

Morgan sank down to the floor and sent a quick message to Cece about a change of plans for the evening. She didn’t want her falling into the same vampire trap she and Nicodemus were in, and if this was the brand of fuckery her curse wanted to throw at her now that she was on a hotspot, she should get used to handling herself without her help anyway. She tucked her knees up to her chest and forced herself to breathe evenly. In. Hold. Out. “Morgan,” she replied at last. “And, yeah. Not usually like this, but yeah.” She offered him what she hoped was a winning and ‘don’t hurt me’ smile. “I have an Etsy store, but I can do real things too. Not healing, unfortunately, but if you need to turn stuff into other stuff? Um, I do a lot with rocks.” In. Hold. Out. “What, um, what do you like to do, Nic? When you’re not, um, doing this? O-oh, Is it okay if I call you Nic or do you hate that?”

It didn’t take much to piece together that Morgan, as Nicodemus now knew her, hadn’t exactly seen shit like a vampire swarm before. “Shitty meetin’ like this an’ all, but hell, it fuckin’ worked. Can’t complain.” The fact she had an Etsy store sealed his prior thought and he nodded, a sound of affirmation coming from him. At her smile, he offered a slight frown and a slight dip of his head. “Reckon it takes a lot of you but I don’t know a lot about that whole thing.” The hunter was content to sit in silence but that wasn’t an option. If talking might keep her from assuming the worst would happen, if she even did, a momentary sacrifice could be made. “Can do my own healin’ so I got that bit covered,” he offered gruffly. It was likely she had pieced together what he was and he never felt particularly compelled to cover it. “What’s that? Ain’t that--Shit.” He paused to find the word. “Alchemy? Nicolas whatever his fuckin’ name is?” He snorted and shook his head. “Me? I make snowglobes and…” He trailed. Shit, he really didn’t have any other hobbies. “And Nic’s fine. You good?”

“Alchemy, yeah. And I’m not totally spent, but when we get out of this, you’ll probably be the one dismantling uh...all that, once I zap it loose.” She offered him another smile. “And you’re thinking of Nicolas Flamel.” Stupid Harry Potter, spilling all the wrong secrets and getting everything in a twisted, backwards blender for the world to eat like candy. “He wasn’t that special, you know. Most everyone in my family could do this stuff, for starters. But not many people know even as much as you do, so.” She shrugged. This was way more information about a hunter than Morgan was comfortable with. Granted, Nic’s gear seemed pretty vampire specific, and Morgan didn’t have any reason to protect them. If anything, under better circumstances, this might be the time to ask if he knew anything about pretty blondes who liked to hurt witches. But she couldn’t not think of Remmy. Would Nic be kind if they were in this room with him, instead of her? And yet… “Snow Globes?” Really?  “...How do you make those?” She asked gently.

“Yeah, think I can do that,” Nicodemus said with a small nod. He shifted to sit cross-legged, elbows in the bends of his knees as he used a hand to crack his neck. That fixed one issue. He looked at the floor as Morgan talked, not keen on eye contact, but continued to listen. “‘Fraid I only know the name, that’s about it. I don’t deal with, uh, magic much. More that shit and other shit.” He gestured to the noise beyond. Given the circumstances, he didn’t mind offering that information freely. Didn’t care all too much either. Just about everyone he had met so far knew what he was in some way or other, for better or for worse. Magic made him slightly uncomfortable but seeing how she used it, how it had helped… His gut instinct wavered some as logic came through. Morgan could have crushed him with a wave of her hand, mashed him between stone, wood, and dust. But she didn’t. He didn’t want to think further than that. Not right then. The hunter smiled to himself, small and only barely hidden. “Yup, snow globes. Ain’t too hard.” Oh shit. He was actually excited to talk about his snowglobes. That was fucking weird. Morgan might have been the first to ask him that in...awhile. “Do the, uh, lid part first. Glue all the shit down and let it set, then water, glycerin, and whatever fancy shit you want in the mason jar. That’s what I use. Put ‘em together and let it dry overnight. Sometimes use holy water too.”

Morgan nodded along to Nic’s explanation. “Kinda glad to know you don’t deal with magic much. This uh, would’ve been a really bad time to find out you moonlight as a witch hunter.” She couldn’t help but laugh nervously. There was a decent amount of scuffling outside as the surviving vampires got up to stars only knew what. She needed to think about something else. Like the snowglobes. Snowglobes out of jars. “Holy water? No way. Isn’t that hard to come by?” Maybe not if you killed vampires like Nic did. Morgan didn’t know what to make of it, putting his weapons into something fragile and pretty to make it happen. “It sounds like really delicate work,” she said thoughtfully. “Do you have any pictures on your phone? I’d like to see what kinda stuff you put in them.”

Nicodemus snorted and shook his head, ran a hand over his face. Dust fell out of his hair and joined the must of the rest of the room’s mustyness. “Nah. Ain’t for me. Other assholes do that. ‘Sides, magic’s...You said you don’t do healin’, but--” He might as well ask while they had another half hour or so to kill before dawn arrived. “--Know anythin’ for headaches? Excedrin ain’t doin’ shit for me.” With his hand, he made a so-so motion. “Just need a faith healer and some water. Ain’t much to it, I don’t think.” Sure there was more to it, the holy logistics or whatever the fuck, but he didn’t pay attention to that. “It can be, yeah,” he looked at her, waited for her to laugh at him. She didn’t. Slowly, he slid his phone out and unlocked it. He showed her a recent one. One with a tombstone and a small raven on top of it. Small skulls hung in the water, along with black glitter. “That, uh, kinda stuff. Whatever shit’s around.” He raised a brow by a slim margin. “Your store...what's it, uh, got?”

“Not really,” Morgan said apologetically. “But  my mom had a lot of herbalist recipes. I don’t know if they work harder than Excedrin though. I can brew you a mean tea from her recipe to find out. Give you the card of an acupuncturist who knows a thing or two about this sort of thing.” She took the phone into her hands and looked at it. Deirdre must have been rubbing off on her, because the skulls in the graveyard looked kinda cute. “Do you make them for other people too? I’d like to have one like that. With the little tombstone, and some bones?” She handed it back, almost warmed by the careful craftsmanship. “Oh, nothing like that. Crystals and candles, mostly, and I started working in bath salts. They’re good for easing your muscles, if you’ve got some tension and time for a good soak, but there’s nothing special about them.” It was all so normal, so nice, and yet Morgan’s skin was crawling in the wake of these revelations. Kaden all over again, except worse because Nic wasn’t much of an asshole. He was rough around the edges, a little scary looking, but all he’d done since they met was help her. “Nic, can I ask you a weird personal question? You don’t have to answer, obviously, but… how did you get sucked into this?” She nodded towards the vampires at the barricade. “Why do you do it?”

“Tea’d probably work better than the fuckin’ whiskey I’ve been nursin’,” Nicodemus admitted. “If it...ain’t weird after this whole damn mess, yeah, that’d be...nice, I guess.” He watched her face as he showed her the snowglobe. Still, she didn’t laugh. Morgan actually seemed to appreciate it. Unlike some assholes that laughed it off as something stupid and a waste of time. Early in his life, he hadn’t counted on snowglobes keeping him sane, yet there he was. Stuck in a supply closet with a witch, discussing business tactics while covered in the remains of even deader vampires. The hunter might even consider it surreal but nothing fucking surprised him any more. Might as well be getting too old for that shit. “Bath salts? Be careful with that shit if Florida’s got anythin’ to say about it…” he trailed off as he listened to the vampires outside. They seemed to grow increasingly restless. Good. Sun would be up soon enough. “Never thought about makin’ ‘em for other people but...could give it a shot or somethin’.” Never had anyone around to make them for, admittedly. He didn’t expect his life to transition from bounty hunter for hire to professional snowglobe maker anytime soon, but it was a funny thought to entertain. As soon as he heard the words personal question, he had a feeling what it might be. “Ain’t weird, Morgan. Most people ask the same shit,” he said, words harsh but tone less so. He was too tired for that and he sighed heavily before he spoke. “Same way as most hunters. Family business an’ all. Pays like anythin’ else.” Monotone and straight to the point. From the corner of his eye, he looked at her. “That bother you?”

“I would get one from you,” Morgan said, risking a look Nic’s way. She wasn’t sure what her face was doing, if he could see that she was scared, or that she was trying to understand, to reconcile his hard-edged kindness with the deeds that had brought him here. “I’d pay you, or at least offer a fair trade.” He could be capable of more than just hurting people. That was the strangest and saddest thing of all. She turned her attention back to the barricade. Family business? LIke he’d been raised into it, without a chance to know better, or be better? Morgan was starting to understand a little, but the picture didn’t make her feel any less sick. “Do you like it?” She asked. “Is it just all you know, or--” She shook her head, unsure how to finish her thoughts. “I ask because I know people. They just want to be good, and get from one day to the next.  They just want to get to be themselves, to be known by people, and be safe. And back home--” She hesitated. “I mean, that’s all I want too. I want a nice, small life. But back home, there were a times where that was unnecessarily hard, because of laws, and casual cruelty, and because I knew if I tried too hard--” Well, her curse might snatch that up for one thing. But for another, “Someone might decide to hurt me. Or kill me, just for that. And so I just...I can’t help but feel for them. These people I know. Does that make sense…?”

“Holy shit. Really?” The response was immediate, completely unfiltered. Nicodemus blinked, stared straight ahead at the mess ahead of them. Her face was moving but he couldn’t tell what way she was looking at him. “I mean, fuck. Yeah, sure. Whatever.” He kept his gaze straight ahead at her question, but his fingers started to tap against his thigh at an unsteady rhythm. Damn it. It would have been better to not say anything. In his experience, it usually was. His jaw worked, teeth quietly rubbing against each other. He didn’t have to look at Morgan to get a sense of how she might be looking at him that time. “Ain’t about likin’ it,” he said stiffly as he back stepped into nigh-unbreachable stoicism. “If I liked it, I’d be dead.” Young hunters always got too zealous, too in over their heads with the black-and-white morality that older hunters tried to peddle. Like Samson tried and nearly succeeded to do with him. He didn’t say much else as he listened to her talk. It was a strange place, a strange situation, to be discussing morality or how one went about surviving. Or maybe, with vampires trapped behind a blockade of their own making, it wasn’t. What the hell did he know? He remained impassive as she talked. When the quiet settled, he checked his watch. The dead would be burning soon. 

“Yeah...Yeah, it’s what I know,” he finally said as he looked at Morgan. “I decide what I do. What, who, I go after. I used to not. I’ve met...people too. Here.” The worst part of it all? Maybe, somewhere, he was starting to feel for them too. Every fucking day. Every person he met took slim shards of him away. Even after this, she likely would too. And still, he kept on how he did. He didn’t know how to cope. Didn’t know how to be without that torch he carried, the bonfire he promised to start all on his own. “Sometimes I decide not to. I could’ve decided not to tonight,” he said as he ran a hand through his short hair and sat up straighter. “Best that I did, huh?” It wasn’t the right time to laugh, but he did in a hollow sort of way that didn’t dig deep. In a few minutes, his watch would chime. The laugh faded fast and he rolled his head back against the dirty wall. “I ain’t gonna hurt you, Morgan. Want you to know that.”

“Yes, really,” Morgan said softly. “They’re beautiful. And that one reminds me of someone I care about. I’d either give one like it to her, or keep it to think about her. And aren’t snowglobes meant to remind you of wonderful things anyway? It’s perfect.” She wondered if Nic saw his potential beyond death, or if all the blood and this, what was it hunters told themselves? The word of some god? Another fucking duty to break their souls into pieces over? Nic, at least, had some kind of code, some kind of discretion. He said he knew people and Morgan wanted to believe him. Someone who could use their hands to make beautiful, fragile things out of the ordinary should be the kind of person with at least a little kindness, and the awareness to exercise it. “I am glad you decided to, since it’s the only reason I’m alive right now,” she admitted. There wasn’t much relief to be had there however. “And I am, still alive and breathing and not a vampire or a zombie, so I do feel safe enough with you. And I do…” Shit. She couldn’t stop and change her mind now. “...I do think you want to be a good person. That counts for something. And, I mean, sometimes being big and scary can save the day. But sometimes what makes things better is more like a snow globe. You can do lots of things, Nic. I hope you know that.”

The hunter thought of the one kept right on his nightstand. All purple, green, and gold. That dumb alligator looking at him every morning. Discomfort rose up in Nicodemus like sickness. Morgan was kind, impossibly so, to him. She could have just as easily not said a fucking word to him, sit it out in silence and wait for the dust to settle. But she didn’t. She got him talking, even got him to show a snowglobe. The things he felt so peculiarly protective over, even if his rough hands fumbled the glass and there were slim nicks in his skin to prove it. He chanced looking at her as she spoke. “Yeah, might’ve been dead myself,” he said with a shrug. “Here’s to buried shit, huh?” His gaze went to the mess ahead of them and his head cocked some as the infernal screaming started. An awful sound to most ears. Nic just wanted it to be over. How that stacked up against her statement of him wanting to be a good person, he didn’t know and he grunted. The line of his jaw softened by a thin margin as he stood up. Being big and scary is what would get them out of their makeshift sanctuary and as the vampiric screaming startled to dwindle, he cracked his neck. Later, he could consider the depth of her words. How they didn’t just stick to his skin like burs but instead, burrowed. “Got all that from a snowglobe?” The hunter forced a faint smile as he braced himself and started shoving against the mass, pushing until it started to give under his own weight and hell-given strength. “...Guess I do, yeah.”

Morgan didn’t laugh. There was a horrible, too real sound coming from the other side of the door. She wouldn’t have done anything different. They’d given chase, and attacked, trying to take her life. This was fair. And sometimes, fairness wasn’t pretty. Morgan breathed slowly, carefully, and waited for it to be over. She shrugged at his question. “More like from you, but sure,” she said. She got up and waited for Nic to move her barricade out of the way. He was so strong, she didn’t even have to zap the parts loose after all. “Um...I’m glad, that you do. Don’t forget anytime soon, okay? You’re not a thing. You’re more.” She exhaled with relief when the door opened. Ash and sunlight, and a way out.

[papa-rhys]

Return (Javier X Reader)

Note: Have a lil cutesy reunion with Javier after he comes home from guarma, courtesy of me. Enjoy!

Category: fluff

Warnings: none

Word count: 1853

You’ve been the de facto leader of the Van der Linde gang for just over 3 weeks now and with each day spent waiting for the boys’ return, the gang grow less and less hopeful that they’ll come back at all. You all stand to lose a lot if they never come home, since you all care for those boys greatly, and without Dutch, the gang may not be able to move much further forward than this. But you have your heart tied up in the boys’ venture across the seas. See, Javier has taken ownership of that tender organ that beats at your core and you’re scared you’ll grow cold without it, should you never see him again.

You and Sadie have worked particularly hard these past few weeks; both of you feeling a niggling desire to prove yourselves to the few that think that Dutch has left them in incapable hands. With Pinkertons breathing down your necks, you’d had to flee from the old rickety mansion at Shady Belle – not really a sore loss, considering the state of the place, but at least it was better than the unforgiving hellhole that you find yourselves in now. Lakay, Lemoyne: where the foulest creatures on earth come to rot in swamp water and other unspeakable gunk. You suppose there’s some comparison to be had between those creatures and yourselves, but that’s a thought that you can’t spare the time for right now.

You sit on the porch of one of these horrid little houses that you’d… respectfully relieved the previous owners of. It may be a living nightmare in these parts – filled with alligators and bugs and the elusive Night Folk – but at least it’s quiet. Although you think that’s more likely to be due to Micah not being here, rather than the location itself. It’s just gone sunset and the sky behind the trees is turning a darker shade of purple with each minute. That makes yet another day without any sign of the boys and you can feel your faith dwindling down closer to mere embers every time you’re forced to go to bed alone.

“Y/N?” Charles’ voice speaks from behind you, warm and soft in its tone.

You turn to look over your shoulder as you sit in your chair with your feet up on the railing that encompasses the deck. “Oh hey,” you sigh, giving him a weak smile.

He steps up onto the deck and makes his way over to where you sit, pulling up another chair and sitting beside you. “Sadie went into town and picked up some supplies for us. Pearson’s fixin’ some food now.”

“That’s great,” you nod. “Folks could use some proper food. I’m getting’ sick of alligator eggs.”

“Yeah, me too,” Charles chuckles. There’s a short silence before he speaks again. The two of you look out into the swamp and you wonder if this place gives Charles the creeps as much as it does you. “They’ll come back,” he tells you and you turn your head to find him already looking at you. “Javier knows what he’s doin’. He’s with Dutch and Arthur… he’ll be okay.”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Maybe.”

“Y/N!” Sadie’s voice whispers from the shack next to the one you sit on the porch of. You look to her and she’s crouched down with a rifle in her hand, pointing out towards the trail that leads into this tiny cluster of houses. “We got company.”

Charles hands you his rifle and pulls his sawed-off from the holster at his hip. Keeping quiet, you both slide out of your chairs and drop to the floor and you signal for him to go around the right side of the shack whilst you take the left side; both of you staying low as you move into position. You’d all prepared for this; Pinkertons, cops, whoever is it. It was only a matter of time before they found you again and since Dutch and the others so kindly left you all to handle things yourselves, you’d wasted no time training up the less combat-ready members of the group.

You pull up your rifle and aim it steady, focusing completely on the figure that slowly approaches through the darkness as if it were the only thing on earth. The figure is unrecognisable among the fog and poor lighting of the swamp and whoever it is keeps quiet on their approach, hobbling down the trail on a seemingly injured leg.

“Who is it?” Karen’s voice whispers.

You turn to find the rest of the gang hidden low in the windows of the main building; all armed and ready to fight since the gang is down 5 of its best fighters.

“We can’t see ‘em yet,” you respond, keeping a keen eye on the figure as it continues to limp forward.

You watch as they move closer and you lower your weapon and squint to get a better look at the man you’re seeing. He’s dressed in a tattered dress shirt that used to be bright white but is now a shade of grey. He looks beaten and weathered and he’s sporting a bloody bandage wrapped around his leg as he limps into the centre of the clearing. You take a sharp breath in and hold it, waiting for confirmation that he’s real.

“It’s Javier!” Sadie calls out.

“Oh my god,” you say through an exhale of relief. Charles and Sadie stand up straight and the gang spill out of the shack at the end of the trail as you rush down the steps of the deck, dropping your rifle in the mud as you run towards Javier.

He greets you with his arms open and he catches you as you collide with him, throwing your arms around his neck and burying your face in his shoulder. “Hola,” he says, rubbing gentle circles on your back with the palm of his hand.

You lift your head from the torn-up fabric on his shoulder and cup his face with both your hands, planting a kiss on his lips. “I thought you were dead,” you tell him, repeating the phrase a few times. “I thought you were dead.”

The gang approach the spot where the two of you stand and your attention is pulled away from Javier as the others swoop in to welcome him home. “What happened there?” Charles asks, nodding his head towards Javier’s injured leg as he pulls him into a brief hug.

“Got shot,” Javier states, causing your heart to beat faster with fear.

“C’mon, let’s get you inside,” Charles says and the two of you help Javier walk over to the main building to get fixed up.

You carefully wrap a fresh dressing around Javier’s leg, being as gentle as possible as he holds a lantern over you so you can see what you’re doing. The two of you sit opposite each other on wooden chairs in the corner of the room, tucked away from everyone else whilst you fix up Javier’s leg properly. Whoever has bandaged him up overseas hadn’t done a very good job at cleaning the wound first, but you suppose they didn’t have much in the way of resources, so you’ll excuse them if and when they return. Javier had told you of Dutch’s plan to arrive home separately as you’d stitched up the bullet hole in his leg. Well, he’d explained the plan between obscenities and gasps, but you’d caught the gist of it, at least. All you can do is wait and hope that the others made it too, but for now you’re happy enough with Javier.

“Looks like you make a good leader, mi amor,” Javier smiles, watching you intently as you dress his wound. “Everyone looks better cared for than when we left.”

“Yeah, hopefully Dutch doesn’t feel too threatened by me when he gets back,” you joke. “We might have to fist-fight for dominance.”

“I think that’d be the first fight that I’d bet against Dutch in.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that.”

“It’s okay, he’s a few miles away. I don’t think he can hear us from here.”

You shake your head with a wide smile as Javier throws his head back and chuckles at his own joke, causing the lantern to swing above you as he does so. “Will you keep that lantern still?” you giggle.

He reaches his other arm up to steady it until it’s still again. “My arm’s getting tired. Are you nearly done?”

You tuck the end of the bandage into itself and smooth it out gently with your fingers. “I’m done,” you smile and Javier leans forward in his seat to kiss you.

The kiss starts out as a peck, but the two of you quickly come to realise that after so long apart, neither of you are satisfied with a measly peck on the lips. The kiss deepens as Javier lowers the lantern and places it on the floor beside his chair before curling his fingers around your waist and pulling you forward out of your chair and onto his lap. “Careful,” you tell him, breaking the kiss as he wraps his arms around you and holds you tightly; kissing your shoulder once or twice for good measure. “Your leg.”

“Ay, I’m okay,” he assures you. “If I can’t have my love sit in my lap and nurse me back to health then what was the point in coming home at all?”

“Oh, behave,” you smile. You rub your fingers up the underside of his waistcoat collar and pull them back to find them covered in mud that they’d collected from underneath the fabric. “What the hell did you boys get up too out there?” you ask, your laugh mixing with the horrified look on your face to form a combination that Javier finds most amusing. You flick the mud off your fingers and wipe them on the front of his shirt.

“Oh, I’m sorry we didn’t get the chance to wash our clothes after we were shipwrecked,” he laughs, adjusting you in his lap. “We were kinda busy with other things.”

“My god,” you gasp, your smile dropping as you look him in the eye.

“What?” he asks, concern washing over his features.

“Javier Escuella without access to clean clothes…”

“Ay, ay, okay,” Javier nods, grinning and rolling his eyes as he realises the trap you just laid out for him.

“You must have suffered so badly,” you tease, pinching his cheek. “I can’t believe those nasty boys dragged you all the way out there into the wilderness with only one outfit. How could they be so cruel?”

“You’re real sympathetic,” Javier says sarcastically. “You know I got shot, right?”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll never let me forget it,” you rib, snaking your hands up his chest and wrapping your fingers around the nape of his neck.

“You should be waiting on me hand and foot.”

“You should be so lucky,” you retort, leaning in closer.

“I don’t feel very lucky,” he says quietly with a feigned pout.

“Well lets see about changing that, shall we?” you whisper, your lips brushing against his as you speak the words before kissing him once more.

[trillhouse-lh]

Play-Date 2

> “You’re late, Bobblehead,” Gwen grunted as her ‘boyfriend’ pulled up in front of her home. He hopped off his bike and braced himself against it to catch his breath. > “S-sorry…” Bobby panted, forehead dripping with sweat. “Y-you didn’t give me much notice-“ > “Yeah, yeah. Quit’cher bellyachin’ and let’s get outta here,” The girl huffed and strode over to him. “We don’t wanna be late.” Her ‘date’ let out a sigh and climbed back on his bike; Gwen climbed on behind him and hooked her arms around his midsection without hesitation. > It had been just over three weeks since Gwen had kicked off her plan to get Lemy back… thus far with less-than-satisfactory results. Despite her best attempts to rouse the boy’s jealousy with a new ‘boyfriend’, he seemed to take the whole thing in stride. But Gwen was nothing if not persistent, and as long as Bobby was still willing to play along she wasn’t about to give up so easily. > Not that she would give the timid boy much of a say in the matter, anyway. > “Y’know how to get to the theater from here, right?” She asked as Bobby started pedaling, keeping a moderate pace to avoid spooking his passenger. > “I think so,” The boy muttered. He knew where the theater was, after all, and he certainly knew where he was now relative to that. > “Ya THINK so or ya KNOW so?” > “…I know so.” Bobby grumbled. Quite frankly, he’d rather be anywhere but here right now… in fact, he’d deliberately avoided mentioning Lemy and Lina’s movie date to her for this very reason. But no, of course Leia had to get wind of it, and of course she just HAD to report the information to Gwen. Now Bobby had no choice to push aside his weekend plans, all because this girl didn’t know when it was time to let go. Still, he’d made a promise, and until Gwen finally gave up her pursuit of his big brother he intended to keep it.

> “Where’re ya goin’?” Gwen asked with a note of annoyance as Bobby diverted from the usual path, veering off towards the side streets instead. > “Shortcut,” Bobby replied.  Gwen raised an eyebrow. > “Shortcut?! This way’s longer, dummy.” Gwen let go for a moment to lightly swat the back of the boy’s head, but he simply grit his teeth and forced himself to bear it. > “…The other way has a lot of crossings. Th-this way has less. It’s faster.” Bobby stated plainly. “I told you, I know where I’m going.” Gwen frowned, narrowing her eyes at the boy’s tone… then again, she could hardly blame him for having a bit of a snippy attitude. Gwen sighed and shrugged. > “Guess I’ll take your word for it,” She said. “You really get around in this thing, huh?” > “Yeah, I guess…” Bobby muttered. “I-I mean, I ride it pretty much everywhere.” > “Huh.” Gwen hummed in thought. “Weird you’re so fat, then.” Bobby sighed and pressed on; he was used to being called fat by Lyle, after all. > As they headed down the side streets, Gwen had to admit that she could see his point… compared to the main roads they were far less crowded, not to mention the general lack of crossing lights. Even though Bobby stopped at every intersection and looked both ways before pedaling across, they were still making good time. > Or, at least, they WERE… after some time the bike suddenly screeched to a halt, nearly throwing Gwen off with a yelp. She had to tightly squeeze Bobby’s waist to hang on. > “HEY!” The girl snapped. “What’s the big idea?!” Bobby didn’t immediately respond; she noticed he was staring straight ahead with a nervous expression. Following his gaze, she spotted two boys a short distance away. They looked about Bobby’s age, maybe a bit older.

> “U-um… Bobby stammered. “W-we better find another way…” > “Another way…? What’s gotten into yo-“ > “SHHH!” Bobby hissed. Normally Gwen would snap at the boy for shushing her like that but it was clear that, for whatever reason, Bobby did not want to cross paths with those boys. “Just… let’s just go.” He turned to head back onto the main roads. > “Yo, Dobby! Hold up!” Dammit. Bobby hung his head, letting out a sigh as the two boys approached. Now, Gwen could get a better look at them… one stood a bit taller than Bobby, wearing a green shirt with stripe of blue across the middle and sporting bleached blonde hair. The boy beside him was even taller than that, standing at least half a head above him and clad in a black hoodie and matching skullcap. Both wore condescending smirks that Gwen did not like one bit. > “…H-hi, Hayden... A-Andy.” Bobby grumbled, keeping his gaze planted firmly on the ground. > “Don’t tell us you were just gonna ride off without saying hi?” Hayden sneered. > “Yeah, what? Ain’t we friends no more?” Andy asked, not even attempting to mask the sarcasm in his tone. > “N-no… um… I-I said hi, so… hi.” Bobby muttered. Hayden grinned and roughly tousled the boy’s hair. > “That’s more like it,” The bully said. “Ain’t been seein’ you at school so much… kinda feels like you’re givin’ us the slip. But you wouldn’t be doin’ THAT, now would ya?” > “N-no!” Bobby lied. “O-of course not, I-“ > “Who’re these shmucks?” Bobby turned towards Gwen with wide, horrified eyes. She was glaring at the two boys harshly, clearly not impressed with their little power play. Bobby turned his attention back to the bullies, finding them glowering right back at her.

> “…Could ask you the same thing.” Hayden shot back. > “I asked first,” Gwen snapped. Hayden narrowed his eyes, then turned to Bobby with a huff.” > “Dobby. Who’s this broad?” He asked. “’Nother sister of yours?” Bobby swallowed and shook his head. > “N-n-no, she’s-“ > “A friend,” She finished for him. Hayden raised his eyebrows in surprise. > “…A friend? How ‘bout that.” Hayden chuckled. “Lil’ Dobby found himself a friend. B’sides us, of course.” > “An’ a girl, too.” Andy added with a laugh of his own. “Well, ain’t he just a big ol’ casa… casano… casanu…” The boy’s brow contorted in thought as he struggled to remember the word. “…ladies’ man.” > “Casanova, you idiot.” Hayden grumbled, before once again sneering at Gwen. “Well, we and Bobby go waaay back. Ain’t that right?” He asked the nervous young boy; Bobby could only give a small, timid nod in response. Needless to say, his date was less than convinced. > “ Friends. Right.” The girl spat, crossing her arms. “All I see is a coupla clowns with a lousy act.” > “G-Gwen…!” Bobby gasped, but Gwen pressed on. > “I mean, c’mon. The whole ‘best buddy’ bit is played out.” She scoffed. > “Gwen-“ >“And ‘Dobby’? That ain’t even clever, for cryin’ out loud.” The girl continued. “Coulda called him ‘Booby’ but ya missed it.” Bobby buried his face in his palm; this was exactly what he hadn’t wanted to happen. For a moment neither of the bullies said anything; they glanced at each other, then back to Gwen. A cold smirk slowly crossed Hayden’s face. > “I like your girlfriend, Dobby.” He said. “Gwen, right? You got guts.” > “More than I can say for you,” Gwen shot back. “Bet ya think you’re real big-shots, pickin’ on a lil’ wimp like him.” > “Gwen, PLEASE…” Bobby groaned.

> “So here’s the deal, knuckleheads.” Gwen huffed, getting right in Hayden’s face. “Either youse two shove off an’ leave us alone, or I’ll show ya how a REAL big-shot fights. Got that?” For a moment, there was a heavy silence; the bullies looked at one another, straining to hold back their laughter. Finally, they broke and began laughing hysterically at the girl’s threat. “W-what?!” Gwen snapped, her face growing hot with embarrassment. “I mean it!” > “S-sure… right…” Hayden managed to spit out between peals of laughter. “Do ya, now.” Gwen clenched her teeth in anger, and Bobby noticed her hands clenching into fists. He could feel a pit forming in his stomach… this was about to get bad. > “N-no, sh-she doesn’t…!” Bobby sputtered, getting between the two with a forced, shaky smile and his palms raised in submission. “She’s j-just a bit grumpy right now, so-“ He was cut off by Gwen pushing him aside. > “Yeah, I DO.” She growled. Hayden and Andy snorted with laughter again. > “Gwen, come ON,” Bobby pleaded, gently grasping the girl’s arm, trying to lead her away. “J-just let it go…” Gwen just wrenched her arm away and stood her ground against the bullies. Slowly their laughter petered off and they stepped forward, looming over the smaller girl and her trembling ‘boyfriend’. “G-guys, come on… j-just leave us alone…”   > “Hey now, she’s the one that threatened US.” Hayden pointed out. “Nothin’ wrong with defendin’ ourselves, right?” > “Yeah… an’ hey, tell ya what.” Andy drawled with a cocky smirk. He leaned forward and tilted his head, presenting his chin to the girl. “I’ll even give ya a free shot.” He tapped the side of his chin for emphasis. “C’mon, right he-“ > POW.

> Andy fell back, hitting the ground like a ton of bricks. Hayden stood stock-still, his eyes wide with shock… only for Gwen to turn and gut-punch him hard, knocking all the wind from his lungs. He dropped to his knees, clutching his stomach in pain; Gwen merely scoffed and shoved him to the ground. > “That it?” She sneered. Bobby couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He knew she was tough, of course… she was Leia’s muscle for a reason after all. Besides, it was only natural a boxer’s daughter would know how to throw a punch. “C’mon, get up!” The girl taunted, grinning as she cracked her knuckles. “I ain’t done with ya yet.” > “S-stupid little…!” Andy grunted, staggering to his feet. He rubbed his sore jaw, finding his footing before lunging at Gwen with fury in his eyes. She easily weaved away from the taller boy as he tried to grab her, countering with another punch. The height difference gave her a clear shot at Andy’s liver and, while not strong enough to do any real damage, the blow was painful enough to make the boy collapse to the ground once more. > “What’re you doing, you idiot?!” Hayden snapped at his cohort as he too got to his feet, putting up his dukes as he eyed his opponent. Andy may have been the bigger and stronger of the two, but he was sorely lacking in the brains department. Hayden, however, was smart enough not to charge in so recklessly. > Not that it mattered much; for all their bullying, neither of the boys REALLY knew how to fight. Gwen, on the other hand, did. Every time he swung for her, she dodged. Every time he readied himself for an incoming blow, it was a fake-out. She wasn’t even trying to hit him… the big grin plastered on her face proved that this was just a game to her. She was toying with him, and it pissed him off to no end.

> “C’mon! That all you got?” She teased. Hayden briefly locked eyes with the prone Andy, who gave a small nod of understanding before Hayden’s focus returned to Gwen; he took another swing at her but, as she stepped back, she suddenly felt someone grip her ankle. “Wha…?!” Gwen gasped, looking down to find Andy clutching her leg with a vicious glare. > “Gotcha!” Just as she was about to stomp on his arm she was pulled down to the ground with a yelp. > “Get OFF, ya prick!” Gwen shouted, trying in vain to kick him off, but in terms of raw strength even she couldn’t match the nine-year-old. He was easily able to pin her arms behind her back, and Bobby could only watch in horror as Hayden casually walked up and put his foot on her back, pushing the girl’s face against the pavement. > “Not so tough now, huh?” Hayden scoffed. Gwen growled and struggled against them, her face growing hot with humiliation. She’d gotten too cocky... she could only be glad nobody was around to see this. > “L-leave her alone!” Bobby cried, rushing forward only for Hayden to roughly shove him away. He balled his trembling hands into fists, biting his lip in frustration at his own weakness. This wasn’t right… you weren’t supposed to hit girls. But what was he supposed to do about it? He was small, he was weak, he couldn’t fight… > …But he had to do SOMETHING. > “So, ready to say uncle?” Hayden asked. > “Piss off,” Gwen shot back. Hayden scowled at her before glancing over at Andy. > “Hey, Andy… y’still got that switchblade?” He asked; Gwen’s eyes went wide, her struggling halting all at once. Did he say SWITCHBLADE? > “Darn right I do,” The taller boy replied with a cruel grin.

> “What say we give Gwen here a little haircu-“ Before he could finish that thought he felt a sudden, sharp pain against his right temple. “OW!” He staggered off of Gwen, clutching the spot in pain. > “Hayden?! What- OW!” Andy cried as he too felt a burst of pain on his shoulder. The boys looked up to see Bobby shaking with fear and anger, his hands full of small rocks and bits of gravel. > “I-I said leave her ALONE!” He shouted as he pelted the boys with rocks. They yelped in pain and backed off from Gwen, forced to cover their faces with their arms to shield themselves from the barrage. > “Y-you’re, OW, you’re DEAD, Dobby!” Hayden warned between gasps, but Bobby didn’t let up for a second. > “F-f-fine! D-do what you want to me, b-but leave her alone…!” Bobby cried. Right now, his own well-being was the furthest thing from his mind; he wasn’t about to let anyone else get hurt for HIS sake. He threw rock after rock, not stopping until his supply had run out… and then, the look of determination slipped from his face as fast as it had come as the two furious boys glared at him with murderous intent. “…Uh… uh oh…” > “GET ‘IM,” Hayden barked. Bobby screamed in fear as Andy charged him; he narrowly avoided the boy’s grasp as he hopped back on his bike and pedaled off as fast as he could. “Get back here, you little turd!” The bullies had seemingly forgotten about Gwen entirely… she remained on the ground in stunned silence as the bullies ran off after Bobby and, soon, disappeared from her sight as they rounded a corner. > Gwen got to her feet and dusted herself off. Her back was a bit sore from where Andy’s knee had pressed into her, but other that she was unharmed… shaken, but unharmed. Save for her pride, of course.

> Once her nerves had settled down, it occurred to Gwen that she had no idea what, exactly, she was supposed to do now. Thankfully, she wouldn’t have to consider that long as Bobby suddenly screeched to a stop beside her, apparently having come down the same road that had led them here in the first place. > “B-Bobby?!” She gasped. “You’re-“ > “G-get on…!” Bobby stammered, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. Gwen nodded and climbed on behind him, barely able to hug the boy’s waist before he sped off again. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that Hayden and Andy were still on their tail, though they’d fallen behind quite a ways. She yelped, squeezing Bobby tighter as he made a sharp turn down an alleyway. Bobby darted and weaved through the streets, between buildings, around every corner he could find as he fled his bullies. Soon, Gwen could feel them slowing to a stop. She opened her eyes to find that they were in the park… the same park where she’d originally ‘asked him out’, in fact. Bobby was slumped over the handlebars, dripping with sweat and struggling to stay standing. > “H-hey… yo, Bobblehead. You good?” She asked. > “Y-y-yeah…” Bobby gasped. “A-are they gone…?” Gwen looked behind them, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. > “…Think you gave ‘em the slip,” She said, before glancing over at the exhausted Bobby. “You, ah… SURE you’re okay, though? You were gunnin’ pretty hard back there.” The boy nodded weakly, waving her off as he unsteadily dismounted the bike. > “I-I’ll be fine, just gotta… sit down…” Bobby staggered over to a nearby bench and slumped down into it, breathing a long sigh of relief. Gwen frowned, leaning the bike against a tree before joining him. “Are… are YOU okay…?” > “Yeah, I’m fine.” She grumbled as she sat down. “I had it under control, y’know.” > “...No you didn’t,” Bobby said plainly. > “I woulda figured somethin’ out, then.” Gwen huffed, crossing her arms. “I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself.” > “B-but you’re younger than-“ > “I’m just sayin’, I don’t… I don’t want nobody stickin’ their neck out for me like that.” She said quietly. Bobby frowned and glanced over at her. > “Neither do I, but… YOU did, for me.” He reminded her. Gwen’s brow furrowed slightly. > “…I just don’t like guys like that, I guess.” She said with a shrug. “Besides, ain’t like you was gonna stick up for yourself.” > “Still… th-they’re my problem. Nobody else’s…” Bobby muttered. > “So do somethin’ ‘bout it. You stood up for me, why not for you too?” The girl asked. Bobby’s face scrunched up in thought; finally, he sighed and shook his head. > “…I don’t know,” He admitted. “I-I just… didn’t want you getting h-hurt because of me. I can’t do much, but… i-if someone’s in trouble I should do SOMETHING, right…?”  Gwen pursed her lips, glancing over at the quiet boy beside her. The more time she spent with him, the more she realized that he was far from the coward she’d had him pegged as. Meek, timid, perhaps even a bit neurotic… but cowardly? No… he was more like Lemy than perhaps even he knew. > “Well, hey… it was still pretty cool.” She said with a smirk, giving the boy a playful punch on the arm. “What ya did back there, I mean. Y’did good, Bobblehead.” Bobby averted his eyes, smiling sheepishly. > “…You, too.” He muttered, before awkwardly clearing his throat and getting to his feet. “A-anyway… sorry about all this. S-should we go…?” He asked, offering his hand to Gwen. The girl looked at his hand for a moment, then up to his gentle face. She chuckled and took his hand, letting him pull her to her feet.

> “Y’know… whadda ya say we forget the movie?” Gwen offered. “Probably already started by now, anyway.” Bobby blinked. > “Um… a-are you sure…?” He asked. “I-it’s not far from here, so if we left now-“ > “It’s fine… honestly, I didn’t really wanna see it in the first place.” She said with a shrug. It wasn’t a lie; as usual, her sole reason for going was that Lemy and Lina were going to be there. > But, for some reason… it didn’t seem all that important right now. > “Tell ya what. How ‘bout we hit the Burpin’ Burger? My treat.” > “Uh… s-sure…!” Bobby said, trying his best to hide the excitement in his voice. He never HAD been one to turn down a free burger, after all. Besides, all that pedaling had worked up an appetite. > “Figured you’d be down.” The boy walked his bike back onto the trail and climbed on, Gwen once again sitting behind him and holding him around his midsection. “And afterwards, howsabout I teach ya a thing or two about fightin’?” > “…I-I’m not like that, Gwen.” Bobby said as he set off. “I don’t want to fight anyone....” > “Oh, stop bein’ such a goody-two shoes,” Gwen groaned, rolling her eyes. “Besides, after that little stunt ya pulled, I don’t think you’re gonna have much of a choice.” Bobby swallowed, the color draining from his face in an instant. > “…O-oh… r-r-right…”

[crossbows-and-moonshine]

Poetic Tragedy (Chapter 7)

(Chapter 1)

(Chapter 2)

(Chapter 3)

(Chapter 4)

(Chapter 5)

(Chapter 6)

Rehab with a twist

I wish you guys spoke to me more, I feel like you guys don't interact with me like you used to, it breaks my little black heart :'(

Except for @daryldixonandfrogs, you’re awesome and interact with everything I do *Throws love and hugs at you*

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

The next morning, Madeleine awoke to the smell of food, she rolled over and groaned, her head was hurting like a bitch and the events from the night before came back to her. She felt stupid and embarrassed but that was nothing new. She sat up, rubbing her eyes sleepily and she saw the twins sat at the table eating breakfast out of trays, looking like they’d been to the diner. They were dressed and seemingly wide awake and she wondered what time it was. She got up, and the boys noticed her then, looking over with smiles.

“Welcome te the MacManus rehabilitation facility. First on the agenda, breakfast.” Murphy grinned, trying to make light of the very heavy situation they found themselves in. She snorted as she sat down, still rubbing at her eyes tiredly. She reached for the cup of coffee that was set out for her and took a long gulp.

“You know this won't be any fun for you guys right? If you do this for me.” She said hesitantly, glancing from one to the other. They shared a look before looking back to her warily.

“Honestly lass, we’ve got no fuckin’ clue what we’re doin’ here.” Connor admitted sheepishly.

“But we figured, if we clear the place o’ alcohol, and don’t let ye leave...well it’ll be a bit hard for ye te drink, won’t it?” Murphy continued with a wry smile.

She chewed her lip and looked at them both seriously, knowing this was a turning point for her, to accept someone's help.

“It’s not that simple. I go through withdrawals, it's a rough ride for me and anyone in close vicinity. Are you really up for that?” She asked seriously, wanting to make sure they knew exactly what they were getting themselves into.

“What exactly happens?” Connor asked, looking slightly worried.

“In a few hours I’ll start with a fever, I’ll get really sick. I’m gonna turn into a real bitch, I’ll probably scream and shout at you, just to give you fair warning. I’ll get shaky, I won't be able to sleep for days. I’ll get really anxious, depressed and I won’t be able to eat.” She stated matter of factly, making it clear she'd been through this before. The boys were a little shocked, they really did not have a clue, and the worst part was she had done this time and time again all on her own.

“So, I’ll ask again, are you really ready for this?” She asked looking serious. The boys glanced to each other, no words needed before they looked back at her.

“Aye.” They both stated firmly. It wouldn't be easy but she would bear the worst of it, they could do this, for her.

“How long does it usually last for?” Murphy asked curiously.

“Usually for me, it starts the first day and gets worse. The first three days are the worst and then it starts to taper off. By a week I’m usually detoxed.” She shrugged as she ate whilst her stomach would still cooperate with her. The boys nodded, looking a little apprehensive. This was a big deal and they weren't sure just what to expect, even with her warnings. They just prayed for strength they would be able to get through it.

They knew it would be bad, she had warned them as much, but they really hadn't anticipated just how bad it would get or how rapidly things would deteriorate. Five hours had passed, after the first hour, Madeleine had been throwing up violently in the toilet. By the second hour, her mood swings had taken effect. Murphy had tried to help tie her hair up so she didn’t get sick in it, and she gave him an earful for being too rough. So when the darker haired boy looked to his brother and snorted a; ‘wow, she wasn’t kiddin’ about bein’ a real bitch.’ well, the girl didn't take too kindly to that. Despite her size, she had managed to tackle him to the floor and smacked the shit out of him. Connor was torn with laughing his ass off and helping, it was more than amusing for him to watch a tiny girl beat his brother's ass, but at the same time, the girl was clearly distressed. So he pried her away and tucked her up in bed. The fever started not long after and she had been in bed ever since, sweating buckets and tossing and turning, feeling uncomfortable. At some point, she had taken the sweat pants off and changed the long sleeve tee for one of her own tank tops. She couldn't stand how hot she was getting.

The boys felt bad for her, they sat at the table wondering if there was a way to ease her discomfort but they had no clue on how to deal with all of this, other than to let her ride it out. They sat there smoking as they watched her huffing and puffing in bed. She groaned, throwing the covers off her and standing and they had to avert their eyes at the severe lack of clothing she was wearing. She didn't seem to care and they knew it was probably her tortured mental state that made her not give a shit. She flopped into a chair at the table, wiping a hand down her clammy face. She didn't say a word as she took the smoke from Murphy's fingers, taking a long drag and letting it calm her ever so slightly. It didn't do much but it was better than nothing. Murphy blinked at her, squinting playfully before taking it back.

“If ye want one, just ask.” He said, quirking a brow at her. He was still a little put out she beat the hell out of him before. She hadn't done any real damage to him physically, she had only been smacking him, but still, his ego was mighty bruised.

“Can I have one?” She asked slowly, glaring slightly at him. Connor smirked slightly and covered it with his hand, he didn't want to be her next victim, she was being so touchy with everything.

“Didn't hear a please in there…” Murphy mused teasingly, inhaling some of his smoke. Connor barked out a laugh and shook his head, noticing the way the girl was staring at his brother.

“Ye want her te kick yer ass again brother?” He asked amused, but when she turned her glare to him, he abruptly shut up and looked down.

“Please may I have a smoke, oh mighty one?” She asked sarcastically, making him look to her with a grin as he handed her the packet.

“Much better. Yer highness would do too, just so ye know for next time.” He smirked, making her huff at him as she lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. She was fidgeting in her seat, clearly uncomfortable and Murphy's smile faded.

“Is there anythin’ we can do te help ye?” He asked looking worried. She shook her head with a sigh.

“Not really. I just need to be kept away from booze, the worse this gets, the more I’ll want it.” She said softly before taking another drag of her smoke.

“It gets worse?” Connor lamented, looking at her horrified, she glanced to him and snorted, shaking her head.

“Much worse.” She stated dryly, leaning back in her seat with a sigh. The boys shared a look, feeling bad for her.

“How have ye managed te do this on yer own in the past?” Connor asked her, his brow furrowed. She put the smoke out and wiped a hand over her face. She was hot and irritated and getting increasingly pissed off at nothing in particular.

“Didn't really have a fucking choice did I?...Fuck, I’m sorry.” She sighed, hating how her emotions were all over the place.

“It’s alright, ye gave us fair warnin’ ye turned inte a bitch after all.” Murphy muttered, absentmindedly rubbing his head where one of her smacks had landed. She sneered at him and he recoiled a little much to his brother's amusement.

“Right, we have te talk te ye about tomorrow.” Connor stated, turning serious as he eyed her warily.

“What about tomorrow?” She asked confused.

“We have work, so will ye be alright on yer own?” He asked her, giving her a skeptical look like he already knew her answer. She knew she couldn't ask them not to go to work, she had already asked too much of them.

“I'll be fine.” She gave them the fakest smile ever and the twins glanced to each other.

“We’re gonna lock ye in.” Murphy said warily, worried how she might react. They couldn't just leave her completely to her own devices though, the last time they did that, she stole their booze and fucked off for three weeks. Her fingers were tapping on the table anxiously and it was grating on the darker twins nerves, like each tap was directly onto his skull. She just nodded, not arguing about it, she understood why they had to do it.

That night, the twins were sound asleep and Madeleine was wide awake. She was pacing the place, her fever was reaching a new high and she was sweating horribly. She was jittery and jumpy and she couldn't sit still, let alone sleep. She had managed to burn through Murphy's pack of smokes and now she was onto Connors. She kept thinking back to her bag and what she knew was in it, but then she would look at the twins and try her hardest to remember that she was supposed to be on the straight and narrow. She was at her wit's end, and she knew it was time for some dramatic intervention.

“Wake up!” She yelled, clapping her hands loudly, startling the twins awake. They shot up, looking around frantically and confused.

“The fuck ye doin’ girl?” Murphy hissed as he rubbed his eyes, it was still dark outside.

“I can't sleep.” She stated like it was obvious and Connor quirked a brow at her.

“So ye thought you'd wake us te join the party?” He asked unimpressed.

“No, I need one of you to knock me out.” She said seriously, shifting where she stood and chewing her thumb, she looked ready to crawl out of her skin.

The boys frowned and looked at each other before they stood up.

“We’re not fuckin’ knockin’ ye out.” Connor stated firmly, looking at her like she was insane. She looked to Murphy, she knew he was the one with the temper, the one who seemed more emotional, she zeroed in on him as her target. She felt bad, but she really needed to fucking switch off. She shoved him in the chest and he squinted at her.

“Come on Murphy, fucking hit me!” She yelled, trying to provoke him. He clenched his jaw and stood his ground.

“No.” He refused, shaking his head as he glared at her. She shoved him again, a little harder this time and he took a step back, she could see him starting to get mad.

“What? You not man enough Murph? Fucking hit me!” She screamed, making him glare at her.

“Fuckin’ stop it, are ye insane?” Connor frowned, pulling her arm to move her away. She glanced to Connor then and the plan formed in her mind, she knew exactly how to push Murphy's buttons, he was staring right at her. She felt bad she had to do this, but desperate times and all that, hopefully they'll forgive her in the end. She just really needed to sleep for a while.

She pounced on Connor, grasping a hand full of his hair as she kneed him in the nuts. He groaned in pain and fell down, and she heard Murphy protesting behind her. She straddled Connor, punching him in the ribs, she knew it wasn't enough to really hurt him, she wasn't exactly the strongest, but just as she hoped, Murphy grabbed her around the waist.

“That's enough ye wee crazy bitch!” He yelled, dragging her away from his brother.

“What are you gonna do about it Murphy?!” She goaded. She launched herself back at Connor and Murphy tackled her, landing on top of her as they wrestled. He was much stronger but she still put up a fight and then it all went black when the darker haired boy landed a punch to her face. Finally, for the first time in hours, she was still and all was peaceful.

Taglist; @risingphoenix761 @daryldixonandfrogs @arlaina28 @divadinag

[dcusrclicta]

Character Bios

Parenthesis means they have a Harry Potter AU verse 

Name: Severus Tobias Snape Year: Cute. House: Slytherin Blood Status: Befouler Antichrist Eye colour: Cobalt nowadays Age: Old enough to say no. Birthdate: 1/9 Height: 6′7 Patronus: Horned Viper Description: I still hate my job. I still hate people. I’m just immortal now. Please leave my office & don’t touch anything on your way out.

Name: Brittnay Matthews Year: College Junior (House: Slytherin) Blood Status: Human (Pureblood) Eye colour: Blue Age: 21 Birthdate:  6/15 Height: 5′5 (Patronus: Pitbull) Description: Cross me & I’ll hurt you. Otherwise I’m Brittnay Matthews you’re new best friend. People think I’m arrogant but in reality they’re angry I’m better than them. I used to go to Overland Park high school. I’m glad I don’t anymore.

Name: Rhaegar Daeron Targaryen (Year: Graduated/Verse Dependant) (House: Slytherin) Blood Status: ??? Eye colour: Violet Age: 34 Nameday: All I remember was being born in the high summer Height: 7’1 (Patronus: Hungarian Horntail) Description: I’m believed to be dead. Walking about when one is believed to be dead is actually quite boring no matter how much it may benefit the Realm. I do admit I made. Many mistakes however in my defence not all prophecies are interpreted in a straight forward manner. I did better than any of you would have in the situation so save your criticism for until you watch a man identical to you get his chest caved in by a war hammer.

Name: Lilith “Lily” Sophie Evans Year: Graduated/Verse Dependant House: Slytherin Blood Status: Demon/Witch Eye colour: Green/Blue/ Sometimes they go crimson. Age: Doesn’t matter. I won’t die. Birthdate: 1/30 Height: 5’3 Patronus: Bold of you to assume I have one  Description: My sister was right. I’m a freak. Even my parents saw something... Wrong in me when I was younger. They tried to pretend I was fine. ”Just a few odd occurrences here & there.” Until an older boy who couldn’t keep his hands to himself suddenly found that a hand could very easily be turned inside out. In the long run it was a good result. They found quite a bit of child pornography in his little hovel of a bedroom. My parents knew I did it but couldn’t quite figure out how until the Hogwarts letter came. They were both horrified & relieved. But to make a long story short. Once I met Severus Snape & we put our interest in the Dark Arts together... I got WORSE. & it felt good. I became addicted to the draw of dark magic, occult magic in particular & now Tom Riddle wants me to tell him what I said to Lucifer to get this new body. I might tell him if he begs in the right tone.

Name: Brahms Hillshire Blood Status: Half-demon Eye colour: Green Age: 16 Birthdate: Don’t care Height: 5′11 Description: I’m a child serial killer. I want to play around in your innards. & blood. I want to play around in your blood too.

Name: “Andrew” Antisepticeye McLoughlin Blood Status: Computer Virus Entity/Demon Eye colour: Lime Green Age: 29 (Existing for 3) Birthdate: 10/10 Height: N/A Description: It’s better if ya dun run. It’ll just drag et out. Plus sometimes ya lot chip my knife on one of yer stupid bones. & I dun really li’e runnin much ta be honest.

Name: Chase Brody Blood Status: Human Eye colour: Blue Age: 29 Birthdate: 4/11 Height: 5′10 Description: Hey bros! I’m Chase! Uh, some of ya already know tha! Anti brought me here! He said it’d be fun an’ I trus’ ‘im! I swear ‘e’s actually always been kinda nice ta me! Besides the ‘ole threatenin’ the kids thin’ but we’re frien’s now! He says he’ll teach me how ta shoot a real gun someday!

Name: Brian Griffin Blood Status: Dog(?) Eye colour: Green Age: ??? Birthdate: ??? Height: 6′4 Description: I used to be an alcoholic dog. Now I’m an alcoholic. Not much to say after something like that happens. I’m really confused to be frank. Maybe now I can actually get someone to take me seriously & publish my book.

Name: Carlos De Vil (Year: Sixth) (House: Slytherin) Blood Status: Half-demon/ Sorcerer Eye colour: Blue Age: 16 Birthdate: 3/20 Height: 5′7 (Patronus: Red Fox) Description: Hi, I’m Carlos & life is pain, only valid things in this world are only science & Evie Grimhilde, bye. Gemini De Vil is my midget brother who I love. Devil De Vil is my crazy ass dad. My mom is dead, thanks for asking.

Name: Danny Flint Blood Status: Shade Eye colour: Grey Age: Old Nameday: ? Height: 5′4 Description: Being dead was less droll.  

Name: Eileen Tabitha Prince Snape Year: Graduated House: Slytherin Blood Status: Pureblood Poltergeist Eye colour: Black Age: Well. I died at 35 so let’s go with that Birthdate: 12/18 Height: 6’11  (Used to be 6'6 but I had this weird growth spurt two days before I died.) Patronus: Didn’t have one apparently

Description: … I really don’t have anything to say to you. I died, I decided I wanted to come back. Er. Awkwardly enough the old castle I was haunting is now inhabited by my son and his family. They’re all really bloody loud. No wonder the rest of the ghosts make so much noise back. And no. I have not introduced myself to any of them. I mean. Sometimes I talk to ‘em but I’ve never gotten an answer. Plus unlike most of the floating assholes here I’d much rather keep to myself, thank you.

Name: Griffin “Finn” Merterns Blood Status: Human(?) Eye colour: Blue Age: 19 Birthdate: 3/14 Height: 6′3 Description: Hey bros! I’m Finn, a radical kid that makes it his business to help people out and kickin’ monster tail! Mostly when I’m not doin’ that I’m chillin’ it up with my bro Jake in the tree house so as long as you’re not some wacko monster that wants to eat up my face you can swing by and we can fire up BMO or something.

Name: Henry Harry Jameson Hook (Year: Slytherin) (House: Seventh) Blood Status: Half-demon/Sorcerer Eye colour: Blue Age: 17 Birthdate: 10/23 Height: 6′2 (Patronus: Savannah cat) Description: All it takes is one wrong look & I’ll EVISCERATE ya... Taken by Uma daughter of Ursula. Ya want me? Ya have ta ask her permission & pray she likes ya & is in a SHARIN’ mood. Jamie Hook is me mum an’ she taugh’ me all I know about bein’ scary. Me da??? He’s a dumbass.

Name: Karl Vreski (Year: Graduated) (House: Slytherin) Blood Status: Human (Pureblood) Eye colour: Blue Age: 19 (Typically) Birthdate: 10/25 Height: 6′1 (Patronus: Jackal)

Description: I’m Karl. Lacrosse. Tacos. Boxing. American football. Whatever activity that involves either Hans Gruber or hitting something? I like it. Tony’s alright. Good brother at least. Not at all annoying like the normal younger sibling M.O. Far nicer than me. I’ll likely end up being a lawyer same as my father. Boring but Hans and I are already working at the damn firm so it’s an easy job. I’m sure Hans’ll come up with a more fun idea. He always does.

Name: Tony Vreski (House: Hufflepuff) (Year: Seventh) Blood Status: Poltergeist (Pureblood) Eye colour: Blue Age: 17 (Typically) Birthdate: 9/3 Height: 5′10 (Patronus: Rooster)

Description: I’m Tony… I uh. I play some football. Real football not American. I’m Karl’s younger brother and… To be honest Hans scares me a little bit even if we’re all like brothers… Uh more often than not I just go along with their crazy plans because. Well because my brother says it’ll be fun. And. It usually is. Even if some of it’s a little illegal.

Name: Loki Friggason (Year: Graduated) (House: Slytherin) Blood Status: God of Mischief & Chaos Eye colour: Green Age: Don’t be rude. Birthdate: Mind your business Height: 6′0 (Patronus: Corn snake) Description: I am Loki of Asgard. & I’m so fucking tired of all the gards.

Name: Beverly Marsh Blood Status: Human Eye colour: Green Age: 14 Birthdate: 8/26 Height: 5′3

Description: I’m Bev. Looked into that stupid clown’s deadlights & lived. I’ll be a loser to the end & I’m honestly real proud of that. Losers have no where to go but up, after all.

Name: Marceline Abadeer Blood Status: Vampire Demon Eye colour: Green Age: 1003, Approximately Birthdate: Unknown Height: 5′9 (Various) Description: Marceline the Vampire Queen, dude. Sure you’ve heard of me before so I wouldn’t be surprised to see you shaking in your boots right about now. Been traveling and terrorising the Land of Ooo for a while now though it’s nothing too irreversible. Mostly I’m just a radical dame that likes to play games as a very special someone once said about me.

Name: Nathan Clarke (Year: I died in seventh) (House: Slytherin) Blood Status: (Verse dependent) Poltergeist (Half-blood) Eye colour: Blue Age: 17 Birthdate: 8/13 Height: 6′2 (Patronus: Some squiggly thing I dunno) Description: Hi I’m Nathan & I wanna die... Haha gottem!

Name: Richmond Richie Wentworth Tozier Blood Status: Human Eye colour: Caribbean Green Age: 14 Birthdate: 8/10 Height: 5′10  Description: I’m only afraid of werewolves & girls with eyes that are hard to not get lost in.

Name: Robyn Black Robin Blood Status: Poltergeist Eye colour: Hazel Age: Hm Nameday: Some far off winter Height: 6′5 Description:  “The Gods above all knew his crimes The lord read off his lists The Gods above all knew his crimes The men's hands balled to fists His legs they kicked, they jerked, then slowed The crowd not once did cheer His legs they slowed, then finally stopped The crowd not once did jeer”

Name: Sadie O’Connell Blood Status: ??? Eye colour: Blue Age: 19 Birthdate: I don’t remember Height: 5′6 Description: I tried to kill myself over a boy who didn’t love me back. Someone brought me back & now here I am, I guess.

Name: Scorpio Felix Sepelio Tobias Exodus Snape Blood Status: Vampire Eye colour: One is jade one is cobalt and they swap sides frequently Age: 91 Died at 36 and it’s been a while. You do the math, mate. Birthdate: 11/10 Height: 5’3

Description: Surprise bitches. I bet you all thought I was dead…In a matter of speaking that’s still accurate. The greasy little snot did indeed best me when I was human. I respect that victory &even though I miss them.. My children don’t need me. I wasn’t good to them when they did. I doubt they’re aware I came back and I’ll keep it that way for all our sakes. There’s no point in asking me how exactly I returned to life. I don’t know and I don’t particularly care. Maybe Hell just can’t handle me yet.

Name: Thomas Marvolo Riddle Year: Graduated House: Slytherin Blood Status: Demon Fledging Eye colour: Blue Age: Rude. Birthdate: 12/31 Height: 6′4 Patronus: Hmmm, my little secret. Description: Join my cult. Satanism is actually very beneficial if you’re respectful. No. You don’t have to slit your wrist to join... Please. Stop slitting your wrists to join.

Name: King Aerys Targaryen Second of His Name King of the Andals & the First Men Lord of the Seven Kingdoms & Protector of the Realm (Year: Graduated) (House: Slytherin) Blood Status: Human Mine is the blood of Old Valyria (Pureblood) Eye colour: Violet Age: Hm. Nameday: High summer.  Height: 6′8 (Patronus: Gila Monster) Description: Burn them all.

Name: Ser Jaime Lannister (Year: Graduated) (House: Hufflepuff) Blood Status: Shade (Pureblood) Eye colour: Green Age: I’m dead. Sorry. Nameday: Does it matter? Height: 5′6 (Patronus: Munchkin Cat) Description: I stayed loyal to the Targaryens & they won. But I died when Robert Baratheon caved in Rhaegar’s chest... At least I got to watch him die for it.

Name: Daenerys Visenya Targaryen (Year: Fifth) (House: Slytherin) Blood Status: ??? (Pureblood) Eye colour: Violet Age: 15 Nameday: During a violent storm Height: 4′9 (Patronus: Blue-tongued Skink) Description: My family’s way is fire & blood... But my heart sings a softer song... & I don’t know which way is right.

[thenixkat]

Animorphs notes 19

Book 19

Cassie narrated book

Cassie says she’s not good at coming up with nicknames and such

Cassie says that Jake will narrate part of this book

Listen, as far as I am concerned the andalites are about as ‘evil’ as the yeerks

I wanna know what that yeerk is being accused of actually

Huh, so Cassie was in the wrong. By not controlling her morph properly she murdered an already downed opponent who she could have easily avoided.

SO no one heard that fight at all? Got damn people in this universe are unobservant Cassie feels particularly bad about this murder and decides to quit the team that’s the only thing standing in the way of an invasion of Earth.

I feel like Marco would have something to say about that

“Troubled kids” cut off a fox’s tail

Again, I feel like Cassie’s parents should have figured out something was up

Also, a leopard escaped from someone’s house

There’s money troubles, the clinic lost a sponsor and will probably have to shut down until they can get another

A sliver of hork flesh is green and grey

So yeah Cassie is chubby

Cassie’s trying to mentally justify her murder

Cassie has a nightmare about losing control of a tyrannosaur morph, wakes up and does some self-harm

Marco has made 2 vore jokes so far

Cassie didn’t go to school today

Cassie, you are aware that Rachel has plenty of career options for someone with her kinda personality?

Marco does have something to say about Cassie’s decision

Cassie is making a decision that she agreed was cowardly and selfish to sit things out b/c she doesn’t like becoming desensitized to violence. Granted I’d say her decision to murder an enemy who was not a threat to her after the battle was declared over is a bigger problem.

Yeah, Rachel has the right to break off their friendship. All of them are aware that they’re becoming desensitized to this shit and you think that they’d keep in touch?

Cassie ditches another one of her responsibilities in caring for the animals just b/c she’s having problems.

Ax helped do one of Cassie’s chores

Cassie doesn’t like that fact that Jake doesn’t want her to morph if she’s not going to help save the world

Cassie sees a girl being chased by a bear

Welp, Cassie got her horse killed

ANd she and the girl fell in the river

Cassie could have died multiple times

The girl saved her life

The girl has curly red hair and big green eyes

The girl is Karen

Cassie catches on pretty quick that there’s something off about Karen

Well, Aftran is actually doin the extra mile in actually figuring shit out about the andalites terrorists

Imagine if the rest of the yeerks had that kinda drive

There are yeerks who suspect that its just morphing humans

Aftran didn’t think this plan through

Cassie using destroyed instead of killed just feels weird, but hey whatever you gotta do to justify murder

It’s not like you could just wait for 3 days and only kill the yeerk, gotta kill the little girl too

Aftran doesn’t want to dick around playing games

That leopard is still a thing

Cassie spends several pages gaslighting an alien inside of a scared and hurting little girl b/c she doesn’t want to make a decision

Cas gets halfway to wolf b4 remembering that she promised Jake that she wouldn’t

Aftran has a dracon gun but it gets knocked away from them in the fight with the leopard

Cassie morphs to fight the leopard

AU where Cassie’s family are werewolves

Actually yes, you can compare Visser 3 murdering Elfangor to Cassie’s murder of Afran’s sibling and their hork host. They chose to kill an enemy (and in Cassie’s case an enemy and a prisoner) after the battle was over when they did not have to.

And Afran’s argument isn’t wrong, but would hold a lot more water if yeerks were written better. And didn’t only use sapients as hosts.

Cassie you let her live b/c you're a selfish coward who refuses to make choices unless you have to. Also, there’s still no reason you have to kill the hostage and not like just the yeerk

Aftran doesn’t actually like that she can’t ignore the cries of her host. I guess the hork she had before didn’t fight, fucking humancentric writers

Life changing feild trip with a yeerk

Afran knows of the yeerks who aren’t into slavery

Yeerk stuff

“"We are born with a hundred or more sisters and brothers. We don't hatch from eggs. And we aren't born the way mammals are born, either. Three Yeerks join together. They literally join together, with three bodies becoming one. Then that one body begins to fragment. It breaks up into smaller pieces, grubs they're called. Bit by bit the body disintegrates, and each grub that falls away becomes another Yeerk. Sometimes there are twins, two Yeerks from one grub. The parent-Yeerks die, of course."”

“Karen looked back at the meadow, 'in our natural state, we have an excellent sense of smell. We have a good sense of touch. We can hear. We can communicate, using a language of ultrasonic squeaks. But we cannot see. We are blind, until we enter a host. Over the millennia we have moved up the evolutionary chain to more and more advanced hosts. Eventually, the Gedds became our basic host bodies.”

Why would a yeerk think dying vias reproduction is something horrifying?

Again they have a point about the andalites

Leopard strikes again and Marco is here

Cassie finally remembers that there’s a terrified little girl who needs some help

AGain Cassie refuses to make decisions unless forced

Also, why is this leopard still after Karen given it has at least half a deer in a tree already?

Cassie could have told Aftran to keep her trap shut b4 demorphing so Marco wouldn’t put 2 and 2 together

Cassie wants to have someone else make the decision

Marco also has a point

B/c you’re a selfish coward who’s waited to be forced to make a choice and yer going to go with the most impulsive one that gets you out of this stiff feeling good about yerself

Also Marco, you don’t have to kill the girl. You could lit wait a few days and free her ya nit

Oh look Cassie does something implusive to avoid being part in something unplesant

Aftran-Nine-Four-Two of the Hett Simplat pool

Aftran’s sibling’s name is Estril 731

Visser 3 still wants to know whats in Zone 91

Aftran wants Cassie to make a deal and put her money where her mouth is

Yeerks don’t have to enslave people, they can make animals their hosts instead

Wow Cassie its almost like sacrifices mean something

Why does Cassie keep calling Karen Karen when she knows Aftran 942’s fucking name

Cassie is now a caterpillar

And now Jake narrates

Cassie’s parents pay attention and were very concerned

The horse is somehow still alive

Rachel knocked Marco flat for talkin shit

Everyone’s giving Marco a very important lesson on how Cassie must be feeling

Huh, Rachel almost died from the cop-yeerks shooting at the birds

Jake gives the order to Marco that neither Cassie nore Karen are allowed to escape. No matter what

Both Ax and Rachel threaten to kill Aftran/Karen

Rachel was straight up just gonna murder the fuck outta them, Karen being an innocent party be damned

Jake is ok with the leopard doing the dirty work for them

Marco saves Aftran/Karen from the leopard

Rachel and Ax are still very onboard with killing this little girl

Jake decides to honor Cassie’s sacrifice and let Aftran/Karen go

Rachel takes Cassie home with her

SO I guess Cassie’s parents just aren’t gonna get told what happened to their kid

Cassie regains consciousness as a butterfly

These motherfuckers had Cassie’s chrysalis sitting outside and exposed with a bird to guard it

Natural morphing resets the morphing tech clock

AU where Cassie’s default body becomes the butterfly

Cassie gets to go home

She gets in the news

The clinic can reopen b/c Karen worked some magic and got her dad to invest

Cassie runs into Karen at the mall who is happy to be free

I wonder what kinda strings Aftran and her friends pulled to get Karen free?

Huh, nice and cute

[odderancyart]

On a Never Resting Sea

Chapter XIV: The Dinner Suit

First Last Next

AO3

Summary: Razz, the heir of the Beobyrian Empire, is on his way home from a diplomatic mission as his ship gets attacked by pirates. Suddenly he finds himself taken as hostage, and it doesn’t seem like the pirates are planning to exchange him for a ransom anytime soon. How annoying.

Warnings:  violence, death, blood, hostage holding, kidnapping, prostitution

Warnings specific for this chapter:  Past mentioned implied sexual abuse. Just in like one line.

Every word came out wrong. No matter how much he tried, it seemed impossible to get them straight and right. Groaning, Red tried again as his soul pulsed in anxiety. “’m sorry, majesty. tha’ i tricked ya. but i really do love ya.”

He was growing more and more nervous for every moment, as well as more and more desperate, “i wasn’t supposed ta, but i really do, ya’ve got t’ believe me.”

In the armchair in the cabin’s corner, Fell shook his head slowly. It caused Red to stop speaking and throw his hand up in the air in frustration. The anger in his eyelights was obvious to his brother, he knew that. Fell had always been able to tell exactly what he was feeling. And right now, what he was feeling was fury over his own stupidity and a heart so broken his soul ached at the slightest reminder of Razz.

Red attempted to glare at the other, but he knew he failed miserably at looking threatening when the corner of Fell’s mouth twitched. Pathetic, Fell’s expression said. His twin stared at him with a calm, serious gaze. There was so much compassion in those eyes, despite none of it showing on his face. It both soothed Red’s soul and made it ache more.

“THAT WON’T DO,” Fell pointed out, crossing his legs and leaning forward slightly in the chair. His statement was rather unnecessary in Red’s mind. Of course it wouldn’t. How do you apologize to someone you tricked and betrayed? How do you regain their trust? How do you earn forgiveness?

Red wiped away a few escaped tears angrily. “but wha’ am i doin’ wrong, then? can ya tell me tha’, boss?”

“YOU NEED TO STOP APOLOGIZING SO MUCH AND START CONVINCING ME HOW MUCH YOU LOVE HIM. WHEN YOU KEEP SAYING YOU’RE SORRY IT SOUNDS LIKE YOU’RE TRYING TO MANIPULATE HIS MAJESTY AND THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT HE WILL BELIEVE.”

Fell’s words were confident. Sighing, Red nodded. Don’t apologize – too much, because an apology was undoubtedly needed. Convince. Make Razz believe in his love again rather than focusing on getting forgiven. He dragged in a deep breath of salt-tasting air before continuing to try to figure out how to get Razz to trust him again.

“i wasn’t supposed ta love ya, ‘n’ th’ crew’ll kill me if they find out. a peosani lovin’ a beobyrian ‘s bad enough, but th’ queen… i didn’t believe i could fall in love but i did. yer smart ‘n’ confident ‘n’ skilled ‘n’ surprisingly open fer new things,“ he attempted again, receiving a sharp nod from his brother. Better. Yet not good.

The squeak of the door opening quickly made him freeze, words cutting of midsentence. He turned, bewildered, and found himself staring straight into Undyne’s single remaining eye. She was gaping. Her eye was wide, the yellow almost glowing, as she stared at him. Then toward Fell and then back to him. Sweat dripped down Red’s brow beneath her scrutinizing gaze. Welp. He was dead.

When they walked into the dinner suit, as it was called for some reason, Razz grinned. Finally, somewhere with class to live. He had almost forgotten how a room was supposed to look. The walls were warm beige and a lot of them were occupied by windows with light pink curtains. Bookcases of light wood covered parts of the walls, together with mirrors and paintings and the furniture looked soft and classy, in the same colour as the curtains. This was only the parlour too; the suit had a bedroom and a bathing room as well. The brothel owner had taken an outrageous sum in rent, but it was worth it.

Behind him followed Blue – about two steps behind, as was proper – as well as Muffet, and a couple guards of which two was carrying his chest. The spider chuckled slightly as she walked up to stand by his side. In the corner of his eye Razz noticed how Blueberry backed another step when she got close, lowering his gaze even more. He was scared of her. Not terrified, perhaps, but scared.

As Razz regarded her coolly, she grinned, “Well, is it to your liking?”

“YES,” he said dismissively.  He turned to look at the door, giving her an obvious hint. “NOW, IF YOU WOULD EXCUSE US.”

Her grin grew even wider as she nodded, starting to walk toward the door. As she passed Blueberry, she grabbed his face gently and tilted it up so he looked her in the eyes. Razz felt a shiver creep through his spine as it happened, and as Blueberry hunched his shoulder and seemed to curl into himself as he obeyed the silent command. Another of her hands caressed his cheek, almost motherly.

She looked nearly tender as she studied her worker, yet the way her smile had just a little too much edge made Razz wish he could just throw her out. She giggled, “Now behave, dearie, and do whatever the gentleman asks of you.”

“Of course, Madame,” Blueberry replied quickly and quietly. He wasn’t blinking as he stared into her eyes but his sockets were wide. His hands had caught each other behind his back, squeezing tightly. Another hand was fondling his humerus now. It seemed to squeeze before Muffet laughed again – she did that an awful lot, didn’t she? – and let go of the other.

“Good boy.”

Her voice was warm, and if Razz hadn’t been listening very carefully he hadn’t been able to hear the condescending undertone. When Blueberry’s hand squeezed tighter behind his back and he seemed to have to fight himself to keep the eye contact it was obvious he noticed it too. It was probably commonplace, no matter how much he’d prefer not to admit that.

A weird relief flashed through Razz as she let go. She bowed down, pressing a chaste kiss to Blueberry’s brow. He smiled softly at her, yet with how the prostitute seemed to immediately relax as she turned around, after patting his head one last time, and walked out, he seemed to be even more relieved than Razz was.

She stopped in the doorframe, throwing an eye back at them, “Oh, and these rooms are entirely sound proof. So you don’t have to worry about the noise, if that is a concern for you.”

Blueberry visibly flinched at that. Fear flashed in his eyelight for a brief moment before it disappeared again. For a second Razz wondered whether he should go over to the other or not, but then the guards went to put the chest down. They all gave Blueberry compassionate glances, and he smiled back at them in what seemed to be a ‘thanks’. One of them also gave Razz a quick gaze. She looked slightly suspicious, and worried. When he met her gaze straight on, though, she was quick to look away.

He watched them closely the whole time to make sure they didn’t handle his belongings uncarefully. Once they had left Razz went to sit at the pink couch. It was the most comfortable thing he had been on in weeks – or months. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed. Blueberry remained standing until he patted the couch and gave him a meaningful tilt of his head.

When he sat down he looked tense, despite sinking into the couch with a small sigh. His hands were tightly knitted together in his lap. Sighing, Razz threw an arm over the backrest as he turned toward the other, “WHAT IS WRONG?”

Giving him a smile and quickly loosening the hands in his lap, Blueberry shook his head. It was impressive how he all the sudden looked completely relaxed. Even if his smile had a little too lewd of an edge for Razz’s tastes.

“noth-“ He didn’t get to finish as Razz glared at him.

These lies were getting tiresome. If they were going to spend a week together – probably more – then he had no interest in them. That was a rule among his own staff; if they were uncomfortable with something they were required to tell him. If it was something that had to do with their work specifically of course. He wasn’t going to take political advice from his dressing maids, for example. That was ridiculous.

Blueberry sighed, and his shoulders hunched. “May I speak freely, m’lord? It might be a bit offensive.”

“YES. SPEAK,” he replied, slightly curious now.

“I have only been in these rooms twice. Once when a rich pirate captain wanted an orgy and once when some wealthy merchant decided to live here for a while. Neither was… pleasant.” He fell quiet, taking in a deep breath. He was staring straight at the wall and his hands were trembling slightly in his lap.

“Generally, the richer someone are the less concern they seem to have for us whores’ wellbeing. Whether we enjoy, or at least not hate, what they do. Our preferences don’t really matter, I know that, but… These rooms make me nervous, m’lord. I can’t help it. I’m sorry. I can-“ he broke off. Took in a trembling breath. ”I can get someone else to keep you company if you wish. Someone who isn’t scared of a room.”

The longer Blueberry spoke, the heavier the sinking feeling in Razz’s stomach got. Just believing what he was hearing was hard, yet it was obvious from the completely calm expression on the other’s face that it was true. His voice had been shaking slightly as he spoke the last words, and he meant it. He would get someone else to take his place if Razz told him to. His soul was pounding in his chest as he stared at Blueberry with wide, horrified sockets.

Never mind the fact that organised prostitution was, in fact, illegal – that obviously didn’t matter in a pirate’s preferred port. Especially since he’d figured out they were in Aellwyn – a country famous for their crime rates. It didn’t really matter anywhere, to be fair. Even Thyragård had brothels. Just better hidden ones. But that someone – many someones – had treated Blueberry so badly was making him clench his fist in fury. He hardly knew him, but he was somehow making Razz care for him already. It was odd, it was disturbing, but perhaps not entirely unpleasant.

This feeling, on the other hand, was awful. Suddenly he realized that Blueberry was staring at him, looking nervous and almost a little scared. Razz let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding, forcing himself to relax.

“NO,” he sighed, rubbing his cheek tiredly. “I DO NOT WANT SOMEONE ELSE. STAY. DO REMEMBER THAT I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO PLANS ON HAVING SEX OUTSIDE OF MARRIAGE AND TELL ME IF YOU GET WORRIED AND NEED A MOMENT TO RELAX. THAT’S AN ORDER.”

Blueberry stared at him for a moment. Then his face lit up in the brightest smile Razz had seen in a long time.

“Thank you, m’lord,” he breathed, and then he was around Razz’s throat again. “You’re so kind.”

Razz just sat there, unsure what the hell to do. He hadn’t been hugged by anyone but his brother, a few rare hugs from his father, and a couple from him since he was a babybones. And now by Blueberry. Twice. Hesitantly he brought his arms up and patted the other’s back clumsily. The happy gasp the other tried to suppress still reached him and left Razz unsure whether his dominant feeling now was more awkward or less heartbroken.

He couldn’t remember ever being called kind before.

“So, let me get this straight,” Undyne said, still staring at Red in absolute disbelief after they’d explained the situation. She leaned forward where she was sitting on her bed, narrowing her eyes. Red forced himself not to squirm under her gaze. “You’ve fallen in love. But not with anyone, like that harlot Blueberry or someone you met at the pub. No, you’ve fallen in love with the person you were supposed to trick into falling in love with you so you could marry him and we could get the biggest treasure in Natéa. You’ve fallen in love with the Empress of the Beobyrian Empire.”

“CORRECT,” Fell replied before Red could bring himself to speak. He looked just as collected as always. They both turned to Red, and he swallowed and nodded. Yes, it was correct.

He frowned in confusion as a wide grin appeared on her face. Turning to Fell to see if he had some explanation, Red found that his brother looked just as flabbergasted.

“Well then!” she exclaimed, throwing out her arms. “This doesn’t actually stop our plan, and if little Red here’s in love-“ she cooed the last two words, making Red scowl at her. “-then love will win. What is your plan to make the empress fall back in love again?”

With wide sockets, Red and Fell stared at each other. This was unexpected. Red had really expected her to lose her shit and being near to throw him overboard – Undyne had a short temper, to say the least.

“Hey! Nerds!” she called out to get their attention again. “The plan!”

Red grinned widely, for the first time not feeling quite as hopeless, as Fell began to explain what they were doing.

The silence was less uncomfortable now, but it was still quiet. Razz quietly studied the other where h he was  sitting, now at opposite side of the couch. Blueberry seemed calmer now, and had stopped fiddling with his fingers or skirt. It was a nice skirt, Razz had to admit. The entirety of the other’s outfit was surprisingly good-looking and well-made despite being completely shameless. He hadn’t expected that from someone of this low standing.

The chandelier in the ceiling lit up the room with a soft light, washing over them. The yellow colour of it made their bones glow adulatory. Razz fully enjoyed being in surroundings more like the ones he had grown up in – even if they obviously weren’t half as nice as the castle. Although Blueberry seemed a bit sleepy, seemingly almost having fallen asleep in the couch.

Playing with the multicoloured crystal in his necklace, Razz looked up at him. He wasn’t sure how the other had managed to get him to care about him so quickly, but here he was. He was also infinitely curious about him.

“Blueberry?” he asked, quieter than normal in case the other actually had fallen asleep. While he knew it didn’t really matter if he had – he worked for Razz now, if he wanted to talk he could easily just demand it no matter what – Blueberry seemed like he could use the rest.

Apparently he hadn’t fallen asleep. The shorter blinked sleepily, and nodded, “Yes, m’lord?”

“How did you end up here? You’re far too smart to have become a whore out of stupidity.”

At the question, Blueberry sat up straight. He started fiddling with the threads of his leather corset, but smiled slightly. Probably at the comment about him being smart, Razz guessed. Looking a little apprehensive, he glanced up at Razz almost shyly. Razz sighed.

“I suppose you don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want, but I cannot say I am not infinitely curious.”

“It was-“ he began, breaking off. Blueberry took a deep breath, closing his sockets. “By the Mother, I have never really spoken about it. It was just a series of unfortunate events, a little death and someone who was supposed to care for me and my brother but didn’t want us. It’s… complicated. But if Madame hadn’t taken us in we’d probably have starved on the streets and I am infinitely grateful she did.”

Razz’s entire body ached in curiosity for more information. He considered to demand more for a moment. Blueberry would absolutely tell him everything if he commanded it. It was very obvious that he had been taught to obey anything people above him told him; and there were very few who were lower than a prostitute. If he was being honest, after slavery had been abolished a few generations earlier he couldn’t think of anyone who was. Not at the moment, at least.

Yet he sighed, and nodded. He wouldn’t. It was obvious Blueberry did not wish to speak of it and Father had always said that happy subordinates were good subordinates. That applied to everyone, from the highest generals to the lowest worker. Never demand more than they could give.

The way Blueberry relaxed when he accepted the answer made Razz’s soul ache slightly. The soft smile proved that he hadn’t expected it. What the hell was going on in this place where someone looked so happy over having their privacy respected?

Well then. Next question.

“HOW COME YOU’RE SO WELL DRESSED? YOUR CLOTHES APPEAR TO BE OF HIGHER QUALITY THAN THE LESSER MERCHANTS IN THYRAGÅRD, BUT YOU’RE POORER THAN THEM,” he asked bluntly, and Blueberry’s smile widened. Turned real, excited.

He stood up, twirling around. The expression on his face was proud and his eyelights seemed to beam. The back of the skirt – the full-length side – stood out slightly as he twirled. “I made them! Bought the material from some merchants and then designed them myself. It’s much cheaper than buying finished clothes – especially when they must be designed to be revealing. My parents were hatters, so I learnt to sew and work different materials when I was little, and it’s always been a passion of mine.”

Raising an eyebrow, Razz studied the clothes as he heard that. Blueberry’s smile turned into a grin and he walked over to Razz, letting him take a closer look. The dress and corset were incredibly well-made. Not a thing out of place, not even at the decorative leather corset. From what Razz had heard at the castle, working leather was very hard.

He cast the other an impressed look, and Blueberry beamed. One could think he had never been complimented before. As he studied the stitches, he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“WHAT A WASTE OF SKILL TO MAKE YOU A WHORE,”  he commented, furrowing his brow as he studied it closer. “I AM NO EXPERT, BUT I AM QUITE SURE THIS IS BETTER MADE THAN SOME OF THE ROYAL TAILORS’ CREATIONS AND I WILL ADMIT THAT YOUR DRESS IS VERY PRETTY, ALMOST ELEGANT. DESPITE BEING SO SHAMELESS.”

A soft chuckle came from above, and as he looked up at the other’s face there was a proud but almost nostalgic look on it.

“Thank you, m’lord. That is very nice of you. I did want to become a tailor when I was little, but-“ he smiled bittersweetly. “That won’t happen now, of course.”

“WHY?” Razz asked curiously. Surely he’d get out of the brothel one day? He and Red – his soul pulsed painfully at the name and he immediately forced the name out of his mind – had spoken about that the last time. Blueberry shrugged, looking up at the roof.

“If I ever can leave Madame no one will hire one of her whores for anything that requires skill. We’re dirty,” he answered. Razz couldn’t help but frown at how he said it. The voice was mournful but factual. It was disturbing. “Disgraced. Many chose to stay even after paying off their debts, simply because they know they’ll have food and warmth here. I hope that I can find someone who’d be willing to let me join their harem. There are a few of those in town and I can be both adorable and seductive, after all, and am good at what I do. One of Madame’s best. A harem would be better than a brothel.”

The way Blueberry spoke made him cringe. The sincere hope in his voice about joining a fucking harem once he left the brothel. How he just casually called himself ‘dirty’. He didn’t even seem to be self-deprecating. Just actually believe it, without feeling any less about himself for it. It was weird and he felt highly uncomfortable. Clearing his throat, Razz decided to change the subject.

“I DO HAVE A DRESS THAT COULD NEED SOME MENDING, SEEING HOW IT SEEMS I WON’T BE ABLE TO BUY A NEW SOON,” he said. “INTERESTED?”

Blueberry nodded eagerly.

Making his way through the hallways of Sarynthia, Red froze. He narrowed his sockets. Wait. What was he doing in this part of the ship? He had been going to the dinner room for lunch, and now he was in- oh. He was only a turn away from Razz’s cabin. Shaking his head in frustration, he leaned toward the nearest wall and wrapped his arms around himself. Tried to ignore the pain in his soul.

He had been going to get Razz for taking him to lunch, hadn’t he? He bit his teeth together to keep his ‘lip’ from quivering. Red closed his sockets for a moment before sighing. Standing straight again, he turned around completely. Ignored the urge to go check Razz’s cabin anyway.

He had a meal to get to, and neither lover nor prisoner to get before.

[dagurdewhite]

Post-HTTYD2 Short Story

Hiccup shielded his eyes from the midday sun and stared out over Berk. It had been a whole week since that horrifying monster and his dragon had disappeared into the sea, but Hiccup knew, deep down that things would never be as they were. The fragile thread of trust between the people on Berk and their dragons had been broken. Sure, they had been relieved. Sure, they knew their dragons would never have abandoned them .. turned on them .. on purpose. Hiccup sighed. They knew it .. in their heads. Every now and then, he would even catch himself watching his back around Toothless. He tried to hide it, but he knew Toothless saw. And it hurt, for both of them. Lost in his train of thought, Hiccup jumped a little when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Hiccup? Are you ok?"

Astrid, watching her boyfriend's face closely, saw the instant the mask came back up, and her heart sank. For the last few days, she had felt Hiccup pushing her away .. pushing everyone away. Hiccup smiled at Astrid, but she could tell it took more effort than it should have. "Oh, sure .. I'm just getting some breathing space before the entire village starts lining up again!" He laughed half-heartedly. Astrid smiled a little sadly and squeezed his hand. "Hiccup, I know how hard this is for you. No one expects you to just jump right in and fill his shoes. But the village needs you right now. And so do I." Hiccup nodded vaguely, still looking out to sea. "Things won't ever be the same, Astrid." "I know. But they will start to get better. You just have to give it some time." Hiccup took a few steps forward and frowned into the distance. Astrid followed his gaze. A couple of dragons were flying toward Berk. She sighed. The dragons had been getting increasingly restless as well over the past few days. Constantly leaving the island and then returning. Like they didn't quite know what they were supposed to be doing anymore. She smiled a little as she realized that Hiccup's actions over the past few days mirrored the dragons'. Shaking her head a little, she took a few steps toward him. "Hiccup, I just want you to know that if you need to talk .. about any of this, I'm here. I want to know what's going on in here!" She patted his head. "You've .. been a little distant-" "Astrid!" Hiccup grinned at Astrid suddenly. "Those aren't just any dragons! That's Windshear! It's Heather and Dagur!" Toothless appeared beside Hiccup and nudged his arm expectantly. Hiccup jumped onto him and they took off, leaving Astrid staring after them. She folded her arms and glanced at Stormfly standing behind her. "He didn't hear a word I said, did he?"

"Wow .. what a mess." Heather swallowed hard as Berk came into clear view. "I wish we'd have been here sooner." She glanced over at her brother, riding his Skrill. "Did you hear me? Dagur?" Dagur had been staring at the battered island in front of them in shock. Now, he turned to his sister and nodded silently. They had heard sketchy details about what had happened on Berk a week ago, but nothing compared with seeing the devastation first-hand. For once in his life, Dagur had nothing to say. "Dagur, look! It's Hiccup!" Heather's sudden cry made Dagur jump, but he was too relieved to snap at her. Ever since they had gotten the news from a couple of trading ships that morning, neither one of them had been able to shake the horrible cold feeling in their stomachs. Now, seeing Hiccup approaching on Toothless, with Astrid and Stormfly close behind, they both felt a profound sense of relief. "Heather! Dagur! What's going on?!" Hiccup pulled up alongside them and stared expectantly from sister to brother. "Hiccup! We heard something horrible happened. I'm so glad you're ok! Astrid!" Heather and Astrid exchanged grins as Stormfly appeared beside Windshear. The Razorwhip moved her head away from Toothless and started rubbing it on Stormfly happily. Astrid glanced at Dagur. "Your dragons look tired. Did you fly straight here from Berserker Island?!" Dagur grinned at her. "It's only six hours away." Six long, painful hours that had seemed like an eternity to both Berserker siblings.

As they landed on the far side of the island, Heather demanded they hear the whole story. Astrid glanced at Hiccup, who was saying hello to Windshear and didn't appear to be listening. She took a deep breath and filled them in quickly. ".. so now we're rebuilding. But it looked a LOT worse a few days ago, so I guess that means we're making progress!" Astrid smiled bravely at Heather and Dagur, who both had tears in their eyes. "Oh, Astrid. I'm so sorry." Tears ran down Heather's face as she hugged Astrid tightly. Hiccup appeared beside Dagur. "So now you know." he said, in as matter-of-fact voice as he could muster. "I'm sorry, Brother." Dagur moved to hug Hiccup, but Hiccup turned his back and began to walk away. "Well, uh .. it was GREAT .. seeing you guys, but I-I've got some .. stuff to do. So yeah." Astrid watched him go worriedly. "He's been like that for the past few days. He won't talk to anyone." She glanced at Dagur, as he made a valiant effort to hide his hurt expression. "Don't take it too personally." Heather watched Astrid closely. "That must be hard on you. Hiccup wasn't the only one who lost someone he cared about. You were close to Stoick as well, weren't you?" Astrid looked at the ground and sighed. "What I'm feeling right now doesn't matter. He was Hiccup's father, and right now, I need to be there for him." Heather put her arm around Astrid. "Sounds like you need a friend right now. Come on, I'll make you a drink and we can talk." "I'm fine. Really." Astrid smiled. "Besides, you're the guests! How about I make you guys something to eat?" Heather hesitated, as Dagur gave a loud laugh. "Thanks, but no thanks, Astrid! We'd rather leave Berk with our stomach contents still in one piece!" Heather elbowed him. "Dagur!!" Astrid looked surprised for a second and then laughed a little. "Ok, fine. I'll leave the cooking to you." She turned to look back as they started walking away. "Coming, Dagur?" Dagur glanced at the girls and then looked back at where Hiccup had disappeared into the forest. "I'll catch up. Just gonna stretch my legs for a little bit." Astrid nodded as Heather laughed. "Good idea! They could use a little stretching!" Dagur scowled. "Thanks a lot, Sis!" He smiled thoughtfully as he watched his sister and Astrid walk off laughing, before making his way into the woods.

Hiccup kicked a rock angrily as he walked along. It wasn't fair. He had never asked to be chief. Why did THIS have to happen, just when everything was going right for once? WHY HIM?! His train of thought was suddenly interrupted by a loud, high-pitched yell coming from somewhere in the woods behind him. "HICCUP?! BROTHER!! WHERE ARE YOU?!" Hiccup rolled his eyes and groaned inwardly. Maybe he could sneak away if he was really quiet .. It wasn't that he didn't LIKE Dagur. It was just that he did NOT want to talk right now, and Dagur .. well. Dagur was a talker. Maybe if he could just .. "Hiccup! There you are!" .. nope. Too late. "Dagur! How did you find me here? .. in the middle of the woods? .. completely ALONE?" "I followed your tracks." Dagur folded his arms and stared at Hiccup curiously. "There's not many things that leave a trail that's half viking, half .. HORSE." He gestured to Hiccup's left leg and grinned. Hiccup sighed and pushed back his hair in frustration. "Fair enough. So .. what do you want?" Hiccup cringed inwardly. He knew he would hurt Dagur's feelings if he kept on like this. What had gotten into him? Dagur looked a little taken aback, but simply shrugged. "Oh, you know. Wondered how you were doin'." He cocked his head and watched Hiccup closely. "So how are you REALLY, Brother?" Hiccup folded his arms. "I'm fine. I had a bit of a shock at first, as you can imagine. I didn't feel like I was ready to be chief, but I'm getting used to the idea now." He plucked at a nearby leaf indifferently. "So how are YOU?" Dagur smiled and shook his head slowly at Hiccup's obvious change of subject, but said nothing. He started chatting away about life on Berserker Island, his latest battle with the Outcasts, and, of course, his Skrill. As they walked through the forest, Hiccup listened quietly, chiming in with a word every now and then, glad the focus was no longer on him. Eventually, they came out of the woods and found themselves on the edge of a cliff, overlooking the village. Dagur had finally run out of news - in any case, Hiccup had stopped listening - and they stood in silence, looking out over Berk. Dagur studied his brother's face thoughtfully. Hiccup was staring in the direction of the Great Hall. His face showed nothing. His expression was hard and cold, and Dagur began to feel more worried than he had been since he had arrived on Berk. This wasn't the Hiccup he knew. But then, how COULD it be? Hiccup had been through something horrific and nothing HE could do would make it any better. "Hiccup?" Hiccup barely seemed to hear him. ".. Hiccup?" "What?" "I was in the same boat, remember? I was forced to be Chief before I was ready. But it all turned out ok." Hiccup stared at Dagur in disbelief. "It all turned out ok?! Are you crazy? What am I saying, OF COURSE you're crazy!! You tried to take over the archipeligo, kill me, kill Toothless!!" Dagur raised his hands. "Ok, Ok. Bad example-" "You tried to DESTROY BERK!! YOU CAPTURED AND THREATENED TO KILL MY .. my .." ".. father?" Hiccup stared into the distance angrily. "Just forget it." Dagur watched him sadly. "Look, you miss Stoick. It's ok! We all get it." Hiccup turned on Dagur furiously. "You all GET IT?! How can YOU possibly GET IT?! How can ANYONE get it?!" He suddenly started laughing bitterly. "You've been talking to Astrid." Hiccup sat down on a nearby log and put his head in his hands. "It's all so messed up." Dagur sat down beside him and flung his arm around Hiccup sympathetically. "Look, she's worried about you. We all are!" Hiccup glanced at Dagur, before returning his head to his hands in defeat. "Come on, Brother. Talk to me." Hiccup took a shaky breath. "It's just .. it's crazy, but .. he left me. He's Stoick the Vast. He's INDESTRUCTABLE. And now .. he's gone." Hiccup's fists clenched. "And he left ME to run the village. And I have to be strong for Berk. I have to be the Chief. I have to be their leader. And I know it's awful, but I just keep thinking .. HOW DARE HE?!" Angry tears appeared in Hiccup's eyes and his voice dropped brokenly. "How could he leave me?" Dagur watched him in horror as tears ran down Hiccup's face. He'd never seen him like it. What should he do? WHAT SHOULD HE DO?! Hiccup put his head in his hands again, and Dagur watched his shoulders shake. Hiccup had just lost his father. He needed him now more than ever. Dagur smiled a little and put his arms around Hiccup. "Come here, Little Brother."

"Where on earth are they?!" Heather asked Astrid for the third time. They had returned to the spot where they'd left Dagur a few hours ago. Now, there was no trace of anyone. Astrid shrugged. "I have no idea. Maybe they-" "YES!! I WIN AGAIN!!" Astrid and Heather spun around to see Hiccup and Dagur's dragons come to an abrupt stop on the grass. Hiccup leaped off Toothless, laughing. "I told you we'd win! You can't beat a Night Fury! Even with a Skrill! How many times do I have to tell you?!" "As many times as it takes for us to beat you! Come on, we were so close that time!" "No, you weren't!" Astrid watched in astonishment as Hiccup and Dagur walked toward them, still laughing amidst their argument. "Hiccup?" Hiccup grinned at her. "Hello, Milady!" He threw his arm around her. Astrid smiled at him and then at Dagur in amazement. "Where were you two?!" "Oh. Sorry about that. I was busy teaching your boyfriend a thing or two about-" "YOU were teaching ME?! I'll have you know, Dagur .." Astrid glanced at Heather, who was watching the argument in amusement. ".. alright. You know, there's only one way to settle this!" "RACE TIME!!" Hiccup and Dagur both shouted at once and ran to their dragons. Heather and Astrid shook their heads at each other in bewilderment. "I don't know what your brother did, but it must have been something pretty special to get through to Hiccup like that. He looks more like himself than he's been in days!" Heather grinned. "Yep .. if there's one thing my brother is, it's .. SPECIAL." She laughed. "Hey, you guys comin' or what?!" Dagur and Hiccup yelled at the girls as they took off. "LAST ONE HOME HAS TO COOK DINNER!!" Astrid and Heather ran to their dragons and took off after them. A couple of seconds later, a voice came on the wind. "IN THAT CASE, WE BETTER LET ASTRID WIN!!" followed by hysterical laughter. Heather grinned at Astrid, who tightened her grip on Stormfly's saddle. "Oh, it is on."

[proudbookaddict]

Rescuing Miami

by Elle Boon

ALL HOPE IS GONE…Ando thought his life was over when his fiancée dies before they had ever had a chance to live the life they planned. After the devastation of her loss, he swears he will never risk his heart again. HIS SAVING GRACE…Years later he finds a woman who makes him believe that life might be worth living again. In turn, Jules finds the one man who makes her feel things she never felt before. CAN LOVE SURVIVE…When a cult targets Jules, will Ando finally realize that love is the most important thing in the world before it is too late?

http://amzn.to/2uCVpv3 GoodReads - http://bit.ly/2vlvwN9

  Excerpt

“You’re awfully quiet. Are you sure you’re okay?” Jules asked as the sign for the hospital came into view. He nodded, taking a deep breath. “I’m fine, just thinking.” Turning to see how she was reacting to the situation, Ando decided to be honest with her, or at least marginally. “I lost my fiancée in a boating accident. She fell overboard, hitting her head. I held her while she…anyway, I don’t think this little scratch is going to do me in.” He touched the bandage, his fingers came away with a red stain. “I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine losing someone you love like that.” She pressed trembling lips together. Ando saw her eyes glitter with tears. Holy shit, this woman who didn’t know him or anything about his past was ready to cry for his loss. Without thinking he put his hand on her thigh. “It was a long time ago.” No longer did his heart squeeze at the words. No longer did he want to go back to the past and shake Melanie, demanding answers. No, only a sense of grief for the loss of life, hers and the child even though it wasn’t his, hit him. Jules swallowed audibly. “I’m still sorry. Losing a loved one, no matter how long ago, hurts.” He wondered who she’d lost and if it was a lover. His thoughts were cut off as she pulled into the ER entrance. “I can drop you at the doors and park, or park and we can go in together?” she asked. Realizing his hand was still on her thigh, he pulled back. “Park and we’ll walk in together. I’m not an invalid even though I seem to be bleeding like a stuck pig.” She laughed, easing the tension. “You really are, aren’t you?” They found a spot in the front as another vehicle pulled out. “Eureka,” Jules said while they waited for the SUV to move. “This must be our lucky night.” She then looked at his bloody bandage, then grimaced. “Or not,” she corrected. “Come on, woman, let’s get me stitched up so I don’t need to get a transfusion,” he joked, or at least hoped he wouldn’t need one. Hell, he honestly had no clue if he’d lost enough blood to need one. “Nah, you won’t need one of those. It only seems like you’ve lost a shitton of the stuff.” She reached for the door handle. “You ready?” “You bet. Let’s get this over with. I might need to hold your hand when they stitch me up.” He grinned. Hopping down she met him in the front of the pickup, engaging the alarm with a press of the keyfob. “I highly doubt that, but I’ll stick by your side just in case you pass out.” Ando couldn’t believe how easy it was to talk and joke with Jules, a woman he’d just met. Although it could be the knock to his head. However, he doubted that had anything to do with it. The emergency room was bustling with activity. Jules seemed to know several of the workers and was immediately recognized. If they’d been in Miami, he’d have been whisked back to a private area in minutes. Now, he sat in a chair filling out paperwork while the woman who’d brought him in chatted with a man who looked old enough to be her damn uncle, or dad, and Ando didn’t like it one damn bit. He finished the last of the paperwork, then got up to turn it into the nurse at the front. She glanced up, smiled then he was taken back to a small room marked triage made up of glass enclosures. Jules was still locked in a conversation with the older man and another had joined them. So much for her sticking next to him. “Your blood pressure is a little high,” the nurse said making notes. Taking a deep breath, he looked away from Jules and the spectacle she was making. He smiled at the middle-aged nurse wearing the red scrubs, thinking it was a truly poor choice in color choice. “Sorry, try it again. I was a bit nervous.” He steadied his breathing and thought of nothing in particular. “Much better.” She made the correction, then led him into another room down the hall after getting all his vitals. “Alright, the ER Doc will be with you shortly. I’d offer you something to drink, but just in case you need surgery, which I don’t think you will, we can’t just yet.” She winked. “Now, if you need anything just press this here button. My name is Louise.” The woman left as quickly as she ushered him in. He looked at the bed and the lone chair in the small cubicle they called a room, then decided the bed looked like the best option since he’d have to sit there when the doctor came in anyway. Pulling his cellphone out of his pocket, he decided to text his sister a pic of himself with the wound. If nothing else, she’d get a kick out of his predicament. Gia’s immediate response brought a smile to his lips. Only a sister would tell her brother it was an improvement to his regular ugly mug, followed by a ‘how you doin’ meme. He let her know he was fine, and would update on the number of stiches afterwards. Of course, she wants all the details, which he’d gloss over as best he could when he got home. The sound of the curtain being pulled open had him looking up from his phone to find Jules there. “Hey there,” Jules said. **** Jules tried to paste on a happy appearance, but being waylaid by one of the officers who’d worked the night she’d saved Marietta brought her mood south. To top it off, she then had to deal with Sean, a guy she’d dated off and on, more off than on asking her about Ando and her. Jeez, couldn’t a girl catch a break from all the drama? “Hey,” Ando said. If artic glare could describe the way his dark eyes stared at her, then that was what he gave her. “Sorry I left you earlier. That was one of the cops who was on duty on a case I was involved in. He was giving me an update on it.” She shut her mouth when he narrowed his eyes. “I thought you were an EMT?” In for a penny and all that she thought. “I am, but sometimes life brings you into situations out of your control. I was walking along the beach one night and stumbled upon a scene straight out of a nightmare. Suffice it to say, I inadvertently saved a young woman’s life.” When Ando opened his mouth to ask more questions she was sure, the curtain was pulled back, saving her from having to answer and relive the horrifying night again. “Good evening, Mr. Delgado. What do we have here?” Jules stood to the side while a man in scrubs came in, his name tag said his name was Dr. Torres. “Evening, Dr. Torres. I fell off the end of the boat dock and hit my head.” Ando indicated his head. Dr. Torres went through some routine questions and tests, then pulled the bandage away. “Looks like someone cleaned you up pretty good,” he stated. “Jules here is an EMT with Dallas Fire and Rescue.” Ando’s gaze landed on her. If she didn’t know better she’d swear he sounded proud of her. “I cleaned it out and made sure there wasn’t any foreign bodies in the wound, then got him here as quickly as safety allowed.” “You did a good job. Head wounds tend to bleed like a sieve. Let’s get you stitched up and out of here quickly, son.” She met Ando’s eyes as Dr. Torres and the nurse set up the instruments needed. “You doing okay?” Ando nodded. “Yeah, I can handle it. You gonna hold my hand?” Her breath stalled in her throat. “Sure.” The word came out breathlessly. “Alright, Suzy is going to clean it up a bit more just to make sure it’s one hundred percent clean. Not that I don’t trust your abilities, young lady, but we don’t want to have anything foreign inside there when we seal him up. I’d say you’ll have about five stitches.” Dr. Torres took off his gloves and made some notes while the nurse named Suzy came forward. “This is definitely going to hurt a little.” Her dark brown hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, true regret rang through in her tone. Ando held his hand out toward Jules. Without hesitation she took it, entwining their fingers. “I’ll hold still, just work quickly.”

  Author Bio

Elle Boon lives in Middle-Merica as she likes to say…with her husband, two kids, and a black lab who is more like a small pony. She’d never planned to be a writer, but when life threw her a curve, she swerved with it, since she’s athletically challenged. She’s known for saying “Bless Your Heart” and dropping lots of F-bombs, but she loves where this new journey has taken her. She writes what she loves to read, and that is romance, whether it’s erotic, Navy SEALs, or paranormal, as long as there is a happily ever after. Her biggest hope is that after readers have read one of her stories, they fall in love with her characters as much as she did. She loves creating new worlds, and has more stories just waiting to be written. Elle believes in happily ever afters, and can guarantee you will always get one with her stories. Connect with Elle online, she loves to hear from you. Author Web & Social Media links:

www.elleboon.com

http://ift.tt/1zH833i

http://ift.tt/2bsjI1P

https://twitter.com/ElleBoon1

http://amzn.to/2eWWIsX

http://ift.tt/2aTzXHJ

http://ift.tt/1XR81FH

http://ift.tt/1eMO6Fp

http://ift.tt/1QIzAxt

http://ift.tt/1XR8CXV

http://ift.tt/20Uu4KV

http://ift.tt/2hWlQmN

presented by WLKBookPromotions.com

[odderancyart]

The Cherry Chronicles pt. 6

First Last Next

AO3

Summary: Another Sans appears in Underfell. The only problem, except getting him home, is that this one’s showing signs of abuse, and is terrified of Papyrus.

Warnings:  physical/mental abuse, flashbacks of abuse, self-loathing, violence. The flashback is in cursive, and that's the worst part of the chapter, so you can skip it

Still with the steaming mug in his hands and the blanket over his shoulders Cherry made his way downstairs. He wasn’t entirely sure that was an okay thing to do, but during the past three days (or was it four? He didn’t know how long he had slept) there had been no punishments, so he felt bold enough to take the risk. In the living room, the native brothers sat on the couch. Boss – no, Papyrus – was reading a book and Sans just stared at the wall, looking grumpy.

“i wanted to t’ grillby’s, boss,” his counterpart almost whined. “i don’ wanna be here.”

“YOU SOUND LIKE A CRANKY BABYBONES, SANS. AND IT’S NOT HEALTHY FOR YOU TO GET DRUNK ALL THE TIME.”

“’m a skeleton. got no organs for ‘t to hurt either. i can drink a skeleton, no worries. ” Cherry let out a chuckle at that, and the two immediately turned their heads toward him. Sans looked upset, but Bo-Papyrus only smiled. It was sharp, but seemed oddly sincere. He gulped, but resisted the urge to cower under his not-brother’s gaze.

“CHERRY,” Papyrus greeted. At least he didn’t seem upset about Cherry taking the blanket and mug with him. “SIT DOWN PLEASE.”

His soul skipped a beat in surprise of being asked instead of ordered. At least without being directly ordered. It might just be an order in disguise, but it still felt nicer than a direct one. At least when it was one he didn’t have to worry about not managing to obey.  

Papyrus looked straight at him, while Sans was almost pointedly avoiding his gaze. He seemed very uncomfortable, fiddling with his collar. At that, Cherry was reminded of his own, and his hand went up to it. It wasn’t nearly as good quality as Sans’. It was only there as a proof of Boss’ ownership of him. He hated it, and loved it. He sat down at the floor. This time he was leaning toward the armchair, though. Perhaps that’d be okay. First, he sat on tenterhooks, but as no one said anything he felt himself relax.

“WE ARE… CONCERNED,” Papyrus began as he closed his book and put it on the table. “ABOUT WHAT YOU TOLD US YESTERDAY. MAY I BE FRANK?”

Cherry sat quiet for a few minutes before he realized he was being asked something. He gave a sharp nod, startled by the notion.

“YOU ARE BEING ABUSED AND WE WANT YOU TO STAY HERE.”

There was silence, before Cherry flew to his feet. His eye was blazing red and he almost growled.

“how dare ya?” he practically hissed. “Boss has been takin’ care o’ us fer years when i couldn’. ‘t’s not ‘is fault i can’t do anythin’ right.”

The brothers looked taken back, staring at him in shock. They both gaped at him. Then Sans’ face softened, and he stood up. Cherry flinched back, preparing himself for getting hit – they’d definitely punish him for this. Yet he couldn’t regret it. How could they even suggest such an outrageous thing? Boss was the coolest, and yes, he would rough at times but it was just how their world was. Sans walked up to him, and put his hands on his shoulders before gently pressing him back down on the floor. Cherry obeyed, but glared at him despite how he twitched at being touched. Sans sat down in front of him, staring him straight into the eyelights.

“’lright,” he stated calmly. He had a weird, kind of sad look in his eyelights. “now yah’ll listen ta me. understood?”

Cherry didn’t want to, but it was an obvious order, so he nodded. Sans looked a bit pleased.

“yer relationship with yer bro ain’t normal. ‘t ain’t healthy either. if he really cared then he wouldn’ leave ya outside in th’ middle of th’ winter for th’ dogs ta do whatever withcha. ya wouldn’ be terrified o’ ‘im ‘n’ o’ messin’ up and ya wouldn’ ‘ave been surprised tha’ ya got food. none o’ this is a healthy relationship, buddy.”

Cherry did his best not to listen. He didn’t want to hear this. No. It wasn’t true. His Boss loved him and cared for him. It was all done for his sake.

Yet, there was this small voice in the back of his mind. A voice he had supressed for years, which was telling him Sans was right.

It terrified him.

“no, no, no, no, no,” he muttered. As Sans let go off his shoulders he hid his face in his arms. He wanted to get these thoughts of doubt out of his head. “’t ain’t true. Boss is doin’ ‘t fer my sake. ‘t ain’t true.”

“I THINK YOU KNOW YOU’RE LYING TO YOURSELF,” Papyrus said gently. And how wrong wasn’t it for that voice to sound so soft? It wasn’t right it shouldn’t he didn’t deserve it. Why couldn’t everything just go back to normal where he wasn’t forced to question everything he had ever known? “OR YOU WOULDN’T BE TRYING TO CONVINCE YOURSELF WE’RE LYING. BECAUSE YOU AREN’T TRYING TO CONVINCE US, THAT IS FOR SURE.”

Cherry felt himself trembling, and shook his head. No. No this wasn’t true. It wasn’t… He felt himself starting to get light-headed and his breathing got shallow. He couldn’t breathe. He glanced up, and the world was fuzzy. What was going on, why couldn’t he see?! What was going on? His soul beat violently as the world turned black.

“YOU USELESS WORM,” Boss shrieked as he grabbed Sans’ collar and hoisted him into the wall. Sans gasped for air, but the collar restricted his breathing and he could hardly get any. He trembled, staring at the other’s furious face. “YOU HAVE EMBARRASSED ME FOR THE LAST TIME.”

Sans wasn’t sure what he had done. Undyne had been over, and he had tried to make himself as small as possible. Then she left, and Boss punched him.

It didn’t matter what he had done. He deserved it. He always did, for being such an awful mess. He groaned in pain as one of Boss’ claws dug into his mandible. He would probably get another scar. Perhaps it’d get infected again, Sans thought absentmindedly, if Boss didn’t let him into the medicinal supplies. He often didn’t, because medicine was only for valuable members of society who did something useful with their time. Not like him, who couldn’t even sit through a sentry pass without falling asleep, no matter how much he tried.

He whimpered in pain as Boss roughly hoisted him higher before grabbing one of his ribs. He didn’t have a soft grip.

“’m sorry, ‘m sorry,” he managed to get out, holding back the sobs threatening to escape. “whatever i did, ‘m sorry, Boss, ‘m sorry.”

Boss didn’t take any notice of his words, and grabbed harder. With a crack, the bone splintered, and Sans screamed. The sound was almost unreal, loud and shrill. It didn’t sound like his voice, but he knew it was. He had heard it so many times, he’d recognize it better than his normal speaking voice.

“YOU KNOW YOU DESERVE THIS,” Boss said levelly. One could almost think he was cracking an egg, not his older brother. No. Not his brother. His pet. Property. The collar witnessed of that. Sans nodded. Tears were now flowing down his face and mixing with the blood Boss had drawn earlier. “TELL ME.”

“i deserve this,” Sans sobbed. It was getting hard to get enough air to speak. “’m a worthless piece o’ dust ‘n’ i deserve this.”

“GOOD BOY.”

“cherry! cherry!” “CHERRY! SANS!”

Cherry jerked as he felt himself getting shook. His breath hitched as he wildly looked around, trying to figure out where Boss had gone. His eye sockets widened as he found himself face to face with him, and then himself. A memory triggered at that, and his breathing slowly calmed down as he realized where he was.

“thank th’ goddamn stars,” Sans exclaimed quietly. Relief was obvious on his face, even to Cherry. “that was fuckin’ scary.”

“OF COURSE IT WAS, YOU IDI…” Papyrus interrupted himself as Cherry gasped softly. His voice lowered. “HE WAS HAVING A FLASHBACK. WHAT HAPPENED, CHERRY? CAN YOU TALK ABOUT IT?”

Cherry shook his head violently. He didn’t want to… he couldn’t…

“Boss… he…” he whispered anyway. It was too ingrained in him to not keep secrets. Yet he couldn’t go on, and simply lifted a weak limb and pointed first at the scar on his cheek before holding up his t-shirt and showing off the poorly healed ribs.

The brothers stared at his ribcage in horror.

“tha’s…” Sans began, but didn’t seem to know what else to say. “tha’s…”

“FUCKING HELL,” Papyrus finally stated. Both Sanses couldn’t help but agree, albeit of different reasons.

…

Papyrus stroked Doomfanger, feeling a bit of the stress he had been constantly feeling since Cherry came into their home slowly dissipating. The feeling of soft fur on phalanges was calming. Especially combined with the deep purring. He stared at Sans, who had sunk into the couch, looking completely out of it. His brother was just staring at nothing. Papyrus hadn’t felt this helpless in years, not since he began to get promotion after promotion in the Guard. Certainly not since he had become lieutenant a few years ago.

There was no protocol for this. Nothing that said how he was supposed to feel. What even was the logical way to think, feel and act when an alternate version of you brother showed up after a life of abuse from an alternate version of yourself? There was none and that fact was completely throwing him off his rocket. Even more than he would’ve been otherwise.

Cherry seemed adamant on denying he was being abused by his brother. Which might’ve be understandable; he couldn’t promise he or Sans would’ve acted in another way if they’d been in his situation. Which was a horrifying thought, but true nonetheless. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.

“SANS?” he asked. There was no need to keep his voice down, Cherry had passed out soon after that flashback and was now sleeping in Sans’ room. His older brother turned his empty stare toward him, and the eyelights slowly came back.

“yeah, boss?” Sans said. His voice was disturbingly quiet. There was none of that cheekiness which always was there.

“WE NEED A COURSE OF ACTION. AND I WAS THINKING… PERHAPS IT’S HARD FOR CHERRY TO REALIZE WHAT IS GOING ON WITHOUT AN OUTSIDE PERSPECTIVE?”

Sans was silent for a few moments. He stared at Papyrus in confusion before blinking. A malicious grin slowly made its way onto his face and some colour returned to his eyelights.

“i like th’ way yer thinkin’,” he drawled, finally sounding more like himself as he had a goal and a solution in mind.  “i really do.”

…

Sans worked ceaselessly through the following day and night, with Papyrus’ help. Papyrus did have a knack for mechanics, and could probably have become a fantastic mechanical engineer if he hadn’t been more interested in fighting and leading   . Sans couldn’t remember the last time he had worked this hard, if he ever had. Even while in the Royal Labs he had taken every excuse to slack off. If it ever had happened it was probably when he was still new and excited, or still at the Royal Academy. Through sweat and frustration, the Machine stood finished just in time for the fluorescent lamps to lighten up the town, signalling it was morning.

They’d left Doomfanger with Cherry, both to keep an eye of him and to let Cherry know where they were, should he wake up.

“GOOD JOB, SANS,” Papyrus eventually said as they stared at the product of their labour. “I’M PROUD OF YOU.”

A grin made its way onto Sans grin, and he rubbed the back of his head.

“thanks, boss,” he replied almost sheepishly. “’m proud of ya too. i know ya don’ care much fer science.”

They smiled at each other, pleased that their hard work had paid off. Then they made their way upstairs, to explain their plan to Cherry, who jumped on the chance to prove his brother wasn’t abusive.

Travelling with the Machine was weird. It felt a bit like shortcutting, but much, much stronger. Sans could only describe it as being pulled apart at the seams and put together again, atom for atom, inside a Void that was different from the one he used for teleporting. He couldn’t describe different how, just really fucking different.

They were all a little dizzy as they stumbled out of something in what hopefully was Cherry’s Basement. Sans fought to keep at his feet as he gazed back at the thing they’d stepped out from. They all stared as they saw it. A black vortex, floating in the middle of the room. Like a rift in existence. It didn’t disappear.

”welp,” Sans said, plopping at the ‘p’. “hopefully tha’ stays, or i don’ know ‘ow we’ll get back. didn’ think o’ that, fer some reason.”

Papyrus didn’t say anything, even if he startled a bit at that. Sans’ words had obviously worried him, which he felt a little bad over. Still, there was nothing to do. Cherry was standing there, looking quite shaken. If it was because of the journey or because he was back in his own universe, Sans couldn’t tell. Papyrus put a hand on Cherry’s shoulder, making him wince slightly. Yet, it was a smaller wince than it used to be and he didn’t look as scared so Sans counted that as a victory.

“LET’S FIND A GOOD PLACE TO HIDE,” Papyrus suggested. The Sanses nodded, and they made their way upstairs.

The living room was disturbing. It looked almost exactly like their own, but also like a screwed over copy of their own. The carpet was stained by something that looked disturbingly like blood, and so was the wallpaper. It looked like someone had scrubbed away the most but not quite succeeded. The couch was a perfect picture, all orderly, and there was no sock in next to the wall.

The brothers looked around. It was really disconcerting to see. Finally Sans sighed.

“yer not allowed on th’ couch, ya said, right?” he asked, and Cherry shook his head mutely. Sans shook his head in quiet dislike and went to sit down next to the wall. Papyrus grabbed Cherry’s wrist and led him to the kitchen.

“REMEMBER, SANS,” he said before they went inside. “IF YOU THINK YOU CAN’T HANDLE ‘ME’ THEN IMMEDIATELY CALL FOR ME.”

“o’ course, boss,” Sans assured him. “i won’t lose my head.” As he said that, he wiggled his skull. He didn’t like to take it off fully, but it was very possible. A pro of being a skeleton, he guessed. Papyrus groaned, while a quiet snicker came from Cherry. Success.

Soon, he felt himself nodding off where he sat. It wasn’t incredibly comfortable, but he had definitely slept in worse places before. Such as that pine tree once when they were playing hide and seek as babybones. He snickered at the memory. Pap had been so angry when he found him asleep three meters over the ground. He had climbed the tree, shook Sans awake, and yelled at him before realizing he didn’t know how to get down. Sans had had to teleport them both, and as a babybones Papyrus had detested shortcuts even more than now. They’d made him feel ill.

Smiling as he remembered the happy times, he felt his eyelids getting heavy, and he was soon fast asleep.

“YOU FUCKIN JACKASS!” A familiar voice shouted, and a door banged open. “BY THE FUCKING STARS, WHERE HAVE YOU FUCKING BEEN?”

Sans twitched as he was abruptly woken up. His eye sockets flew open, and he couldn’t help the red flickering as he watched Cherry’s abuser. He was almost distressingly similar in looks to Papyrus, but with the cruel, furious look in his face it wasn’t hard to see the difference. ‘Boss’ grabbed the front of Sans’ shirt, and hauled him off the ground, slamming him into the wall. Sans let out a pained oof as he hit it. The other certainly wasn’t careful with his 1HP. Though if this Papyrus was anything at all like his own, then he had perfect control of his Damage and wouldn’t hurt anyone’s HP if he didn’t want to.

“EXPLAIN YOURSELF, AND I MIGHT NOT THROW YOU TO THE DOGS TO DO WHATEVER THEY WANT TO WHEN I’M FINISHED WITH YOU.”

The shorter couldn’t help it as his eyelight flickered red again in fury. Boss slammed him into the wall again, and he gasped.

“DON’T YOU DARE THREATEN ME, YOU PIECE OF SHIT,” he growled. It was easy to see what he was thinking; he was like an open book. Sans couldn’t help but wonder if he always was this easy to read or if he just didn’t bother hiding his true self with his ‘brother’. If the first was the case, he was playing a dangerous game.

“aw, is baby bro pissed?” Sans snickered despite the deathly grip the other had very close to his neck. Boss froze, staring at him in pure disbelief. His eye sockets widened, and he was obviously doubting what he had heard – and seeing. Sans had a shit-eating grin on his face. “c’mon, tha’ glare o’ yers almost sends shivers down my spine. what?” he added as Boss’ shocked face turned into a glare. “dontcha think ‘m humerus?”

“ENOUGH!” Boss screamed, and slammed him into the wall again. Sans felt pain travel up his spine, but he kept in any sounds again. “I DO NOT KNOW WHERE YOU’VE BEEN THAT HAVE MADE YOU FORGET YOUR PLACE, BUT I WILL MAKE SURE YOU REMEMBER IT QUICK ENOUGH.”

“ya sure ‘bout tha’?” Without another word, Sans threw out his leg, kicking Boss in the ribs. It would probably – hopefully – not be enough normally, but he apparently managed to surprise the other enough to make him loose his grip on Sans. As he felt himself falling to the floor, his magic flared and he shortcutted.

Soon standing a few meters away, Sans grinned malevolently.

“aw, don’ skullk around,” he teased. His voice was growing darker. “you d i r t y  b r o t h e r-a b u s e r.”

As on que, which it was, Papyrus stepped around the corner. He had a ferocious and enraged expression, and his eye was glowing brightly as he crossed his arms and glared at Boss. The native Papyrus froze again, staring at his copy. He looked completely stunned. Then he frowned, and outrage filled his face.

“I DON’T KNOW WHO YOU TWO ARE AND HOW YOU GOT INTO MY HOUSE,” he snarled while stretching out a hand. A red, sharp bone appeared in it. The tone was low and threatening, but it only made Sans grin. That seemed to infuriate him even more. “BUT I WILL MAKE SURE YOU REGRET IT.”

“tibia honest,” Sans said with a cruel smirk. “i don’ believe ya.”