#and in the most sickly sweet voice went 'oh this was never to rob you' as he pulled out a knife and tilted his head
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All Gone- Part 3
Next part of my fan work for the Labelled Universe by @snowdice
Sorry this part took a bit longer to upload, but its also a longer chapter!
TW: kidnapping, violence, panic and mention of drugs (nothing too bad, just sedatives and stuff)
Virgil woke with what he quickly decided was the absolute worst headache he’d ever had in his entire life.
And with how many times he’d woken up in varying degrees of pain, that was really saying something. At least he’d had morphine when he’d opened his eyes to a bullet wound.
Now though, it felt like somebody had taken a meat cleaver to his skull, his head throbbing in time to his racing heartbeat, his whole body trembling and burning like he’d been dunked in lava.
Jesus, he wasn’t even sure he could move.
Virgil tried to open his eyes, quickly backtracking and squeezing them shut when even a sliver of dim light felt like a million tiny knives burrowing into his brain.
He bit back a groan as a wave of nausea washed over him, overwhelming and awful as he lay perfectly still against something cold and hard.
Hadn’t he been at school? He thought so. It had been the week from Hell- his foggy, pounding brain could at least piece that together.
Between school work piling up as the year came to an end, stress from a new villain rising in power, and the fight with Logan, Virgil was--
Logan.
This time, Virgil’s eyes did fly open, his sudden panic as memories came flooding back not nearly enough to smother the cry of pain as agony shot through his whole body at the movement.
Logan had been right in front of him, calling to him from the car, panicked and afraid as arms wrapped around Virgil and dragged him into the dark.
There’s been a stabbing pain in his neck, something cold and sharp pressing into his skin before he’d passed out.
Oh god, had he been drugged? How long had he been out?
It couldn’t have been too long, he reasoned against the rising panic. Logan wouldn’t let him stay kidnapped for long. Logan would find him, kick the shit out of whoever had taken Virgil, and bring him home to a fretting Patton.
It would be fine. It was ok. No need to freak out like a baby, Logan was probably on his way right now to--
“Are you awake, Shadow Caster?”
That made Virgil freeze, panic intensifying because last time he checked he definitely was not wearing his mask. He’d just been trying to get home after band practice.
There were feet suddenly moving in his line of sight, and Virgil shrank back out of instinct, tensing at the feeling of someone looming over him, in far too much pain to try scrambling away.
“Well, hey.” The man was crouching down, still too close and too tall, and Virgil squeezed his eyes shut as he moved closer. “What’s the matter, Shadow? Scared?”
It was that horrible sickly sweet tone, the one Virgil had heard so many times before that reeked of false kindness, drenched in eager giddiness at the power they had over him.
Virgil couldn’t move from where he lay on the floor, and he was quickly realizing that wasn’t just from the fear. His body, aside from the lingering pain, felt heavy and cold, limbs slow and unresponsive.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” the man said. “Do you prefer Virgil?”
Virgil felt like he was going to be sick, hearing his real name somehow so much worse, the reality of the entire situation hitting all at once, too many memories flooding back.
He couldn’t even concentrate long enough to form anything more than a measly shadow against his ankle. Nothing that would be of any help.
Virgil risked a glance up, furiously forcing back the tears that threatened to spill over at what he saw.
It was the man from the news, the one Logan had been working tirelessly to track down. The one that clearly had no qualms with killing innocents.
And he knew who Virgil was behind the mask. He’d taken him right in front of Logan.
“What do you want?” Virgil asked in a breathy rush, cringing at how shaky his voice was. He couldn’t see most of his kidnapper’s face behind the black mask, but his eyes were practically glowing with amusement.
“Here,” he said, and Virgil couldn;t even try to hold back the whimper that escaped when the man reached forward, shrinking back and shutting his eyes. “Let’s get you off the floor.”
Virgil tried to protest, tried to kick and scramble away, tried to do anything in his power to make sure this man didn’t touch him, but in the end it was useless.
Virgil’s body was still slow and uncooperative, and the man moved too fast. Before he knew it there was a hand fisted in his shirt, another squeezing his wrist, and Virgil was roughly yanked to his feet and dragged to the nearest wall, forced to sit up and lean against it.
It wasn’t any better than laying on the floor, despite being a bit less vulnerable, and the sudden movements had only sent more bursts of stabbing pain through his body, stars dancing along his already hazy vision.
He grit his teeth and said nothing, now staring resolutely at the man’s black jeans in front of him.
“You’re sixteen, right?” the masked man asked. Virgil didn’t answer. “Poor kid. Do your parents know about your little bank robbing habit?”
Virgil forced himself not to flinch, wishing he had the strength to curl up into a ball, feeling far too vulnerable and exposed.
He barely went out as Shadow Caster anymore, spending the free time he did have training with Logan, and he definitely hadn’t stolen since moving in Logan and Patton.
The man’s hand was suddenly moving without warning, too fast and too close to Virgil’s face, and he couldn’t fight back against a violent flinch this time, ears burning when the man laughed.
“I don’t need to hurt you,” he said, a hand now rested on Virgil’s shoulder. It was too tight, too confining, to be anything even remotely gentle. “Your dad seemed real upset when I picked you up. We don’t want to keep him worrying much longer, right?”
Virgil tired (and failed) to steady his breathing, dissolving mostly into hiccuping gasps, ignoring the nagging panic that came with each second Logan failed to make his entrance.
He...he was coming, right? Virgil knew they’d fought that morning, and he’d been unfairly short tempered when he’d known Logan was already stressed but...but that wouldn’t mean…
Virgil didn’t realize he’d been hit until the pain registered, seconds after the deafening crack that rose up in the empty room, the man’s hand now missing one of his black gloves.
“Are you paying attention to me, Shadow Caster?”
It wasn;t the first time he’d been slapped, obviously, and definitely not the first time he’d heard that demand afterwards. Of course, this situation was arguably a bit different.
He’d literally been kidnapped, he had no obligation to cower and submit to this adult’s wants. Logan was coming- he was. Virgil was still alive for a reason. He could afford to be defiant.
But a bit of rational thought wasn’t nearly enough to erase a lifetime worth of conditioning. Virgil found himself pressing back even further against the wall, fighting to raise heavy, trembling hands up to block his face from another hit, unable to raise his eyes from the floor.
“S-sorry,” he stuttered out, hating himself for turning so weak so quickly. He wondered, briefly, if Logan would be disappointed. “I...what do you want?”
The man’s eyes practically lit up at the obvious fear, and Virgil shuddered under the weight of his excitement. He hoped his own expression wasn’t giving away how badly that slap had hurt.
“I sent your friend Bluebird a nice little picture,” he said. “Figured he’d want to know the kid that used to follow him around had gotten into a little...predicament. Smart guy like him should be able to find our location, right?”
Virgil forced himself to breathe, the mark on his face burning like acid. He had enough experience to know that it would probably leave a nasty bruise.
“He’s...he’ll be here.”
“Yeah?” It was impossible to tell for sure behind the mask, but Virgil thought the man was smirking. “You’ve already been here about two hours now.”
Two hours? And Logan still hadn’t…
No. No. It was fine. It was all going to be ok. Logan would find him. He would.
“He’ll be here,” Virgil repeated, barely audible, more for himself than anything. “And he’ll kick your ass.”
Virgil expected the slap this time, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less, a new burst of pain exploding across his already throbbing cheek.
“Tell you what,” the man said, casually, like Virgil wasn’t hunched over himself and fighting back tears. “Let’s make a deal, ok? Just in case he doesn’t.”
Virgil didn’t answer, just stared resolutely down at his feet, shivering and uselessly trying not to dissolve into sobs.
God, he just wanted to go home.
“I’ll let you go right now,” he said. “All I need is the Bird’s name. His real name. Tell me who he is, and you’re good to go.”
And there was no way in hell Virgil was ever going to accept that. It wasn’t even a question. Not for a second.
He was just glad this guy was apparently too stupid to connect Virgil’s recent adoption with the superhero’s identity.
“No,” he spat, and quickly cringed back when the man’s hand raised again. “Wh-why don't you just...figure it out yourself? You found me.”
“It’s not hard to find some street kid, Shadow. Not if you try hard enough. Bluebird’s another story.”
Virgil swallowed, fairly sure he could taste some blood in his mouth as he hunched his shoulders and braced himself, knowing what was coming.
“I don’t know who he is.”
It was a fist that connected with his face this time, real anger finally leaking through the man’s giddy facade, and Virgil definitely tasted blood now.
“Don’t lie to me, kid.”
“I-I’m not--”
He honestly couldn’t tell if he’d been punched again, all of the pain was starting to blend together into one horrible wave of agony. But even as he feels himself roughly shoved to the ground, something digging into the back of his neck, his answer never changed.
He was used to beatings. He could...he could take it. And yeah, maybe he’d gotten used to living under Logan and Patton’s safety the last year. Maybe it was worse because there was absolutely nothing stopping this man from killing him in seconds.
But there wasn’t a second where he considered giving Logan up. Because even if he died...Logan would be ok. The only people to ever show him a shred of kindness in his life would be safe.
And that was...that was…
He didn’t even have time to finish his thought before the weight on top of him was ripped away, the sudden change in pressure only making the pain flare up worse than before, and Virgil cried out in alarm.
There were noises around him, too far away to make out, and much too loud to bring any semblance of calm. There were voices, he thought, angry and demanding, followed by deafening crashes and thuds.
Had he done something wrong again? Everything hurt so bad and he couldn’t lift his head to even see where he was anymore. He shouldn’t be this weak. He should be able to get up and run while he could. He needed to get away, he needed--
There was a crash, louder than any of the other sounds, and Virgil thought he heard someone scream. A second later, he realized it could have been him.
But the crash had definitely been close this time, like someone had hit the wall right above him, and Virgil used what was left of his fading strength to curl into himself, doing what he could to protect his face.
Something sharp scraped against his arms and legs as he moved, stabbing pain joining the rest of the constant hurt, but he didn’t pay it any mind.
And then, despite the fact that he hadn’t opened his eyes or lifted his head, Virgil is painfully aware of a presence making its way back towards him, looming over him, ready to hurt him all over again.
But he wasn’t giving this guy any answers.
“Virgil--”
“I-I’m...I’m not telling you who-who he is, I’m not--”
Oh god, Virgil can’t breathe. He can feel the panic rising up, stronger than the pain and drowsiness, and his chest aches with his labored, frantic breaths.
There’s a hand on his shoulder and Virgil couldn’t help the sob that escaped as he flinched back, back slamming into the wall.
“Please d-dont.” He was begging now, desperate and scared, unable to stop himself. “Don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me I’m--”
“Virgil, it’s me.” The hand loosened slightly, but didn’t let go. “It’s just me. I found you, you’re safe.”
And that...that sounded like…
“Look at me, Virgil. Please. I...I need to see that you’re alright.”
Virgil found himself obeying, not moving from where he was curled up on the floor, but glancing up just enough to see Bluebird on his knees in front of him, gloved hand on Virgil’s hoodie.
He couldn’t remember deciding to speak, barely able to hear his own pitiful voice. But it was there all the same, small and unsure. “D...dad?”
There’s a beat of silence, Bluebird--Logan-- watching him with poorly concealed worry, before he clears his throat and replies.
“Hello, Virgil. I assume you’re ready to go home.”
Virgil had broken down within seconds. He didn’t bother to hold back any sobs this time, still not strong enough to move from the floor, but Logan quickly gathers Virgil in his arms, murmuring frantic reassurances and what sounded like apologies.
Logan held him close to his chet, Virgil pressed close enough to hear his heartbeat, fast and strong and real.
Virgil felt himself being moved, but there was no panic that came with the motion, just another wave of pain and dizziness. Logan said something when he cried out in pain, hold briefly tightening, but Virgil was asleep before he could hear it.
#thomas sanders#labelled universe#virgil sanders#logan sanders#patton sanders#sanders sides#superhero au#snowdice#fanfiction#fanwork
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Fishing for more notes and validation, so here’s an ROTG fic I wrote
Word count: 3,613
Warnings: None, kind of angsty near the end
Jack learns more about being a Guardian and himself
Jack chewed a piece of grass, looking at the sky. He closed his eyes, smiling.
Then something dropped on his face.
He yelped and sat up. “What the?”
“Come on, Jack. You gotta get ready.” Bunny said.
“Ready for what?”
Bunny sighed, rolling his eyes. Not in an annoyed sort of fashion, but as if he were a child being forced to go to an event he hated. “It’s the Ceremony of Spirits.”
“Let’s pretend I don’t know what that means and you pretend to explain it to me.”
He sat beside Jack, resting his chin on his paw. “It’s this big celebration we all go to. A day of peace. Kind of like a stalemate. We all just gather around, eat, drink, talk, and have fun. It sucks.”
“Well you do hate fun.”
“We gotta dress up in our ‘traditional clothes.’ Something about how it shows we’re all just people at our core. And we can’t fight anyone!” He threw his hands up. “It’s the worst! Even worse than Christmas!”
Jack laughed, standing up, looking at the clothes Bunny had thrown on his face. “So I have to wear my old clothes. Okay...wait do you wear clothes?”
“You’ll see it. Just get changed. I opened you a tunnel that’ll lead to the Hall. See you there.”
He jumped down a tunnel, leaving Jack with more questions than answers.
After looking at himself in his change of clothes, he started feeling very aware that he didn’t have shoes. He took a breath and jumped down the hole.
The hole ended in front of a large castle. A very pink castle. Jack squinted his eyes and stepped back to get a better look and slipped, nearly falling backwards.
He looked down and his head spun.
The castle was in the air, a very good distance from the ground.
Where the heck was he?
A very rough pat on the back nearly caused him to fall forward, but he caught himself.
“Jack! I was wondering if you’d gotten invitation.” North laughed. “I kid. Attendance is mandatory.”
“Hey...so I have a few questions. Where are we, what’s going on, why are we in the sky, and why is that castle pink?”
Before North could answer, Jack jerked his head, seeing Pitch approaching. He reached for his staff, but North stopped him. “Jack, this is time of peace. Pitch is welcome here.”
“This doesn’t make sense. He literally tried to kill us!”
“Oh boohoo, Frost. You’re already dead.” Pitch said.
Jack scowled and stomped up to him. “I can send you back under the bed you crawled out from.”
A gust of wind filled the air and a tall woman appeared out of a whirlwind of flowers, approaching Jack. “Jack, maybe you weren’t told, but this is a time of peace and weapons nor magic will be allowed.” She took his staff.
“Who are you?”
“Mother Nature. Sweet, darling Mother Nature.” Pitch answered in mock praise. “She’s the reason I’m here. Emily, darling, so lovely to see you. I’m sure your father misses you very much.”
She quirked an eyebrow at him, saying nothing. “Jack, I’m sure you have questions.”
“Uh, yeah.” Jack said.
“This is the Ceremony of Spirits. Once a year all Spirits, good, bad, neutral, gather in a day of peace. To show that in any time of need, no matter the consequence, if we need each other, we will help one another.”
“That sounds dumb. Why are we in the air and why is the castle pink?”
“We’re in the air because Heartstrings doesn’t like company. And it’s pink because he likes pink.”
“Who’s Heartstrings?...Wait, like Cupid?”
As if waiting for a dramatic entrance, a young man swooped down, sporting large wings, pink messy hair, and a smug attitude. “Hello, loves. You must be Jack Frost. My name’s Apollo C. Heartstrings, but most people call me Heartstrings.”
“I thought Cupid was a chubby little baby with a diaper?”
He groaned, rolling his eyes. “I hate that depiction. Why would I be a baby in a diaper? Babies don’t even know how to use a bow and arrow!”
Jack pursed his lips and backed away. A firecracker whizzed past his ear and he spun around as another one barely missed his nose. “Whoa!”
“Oh great…” Bunny groaned, walking up. “THEY’RE here.”
“Who?”
“The twins.”
“What twins?”
“The Foolery twins.”
“Foolery-?”
A colorful puff of smoke filled the area and two very colorful teenagers in very colorful jesters’ outfits appeared.
The April Fools.
“Pleasure to meet you, I’m April and this is my brother Tom.” The girl grinned.
“That is awesome.” Jack said.
“Jack Frost. Oh we heard about you. That snowstorm to get kids out of school? Classic!” Tom said, shaking his hand furiously.
Jack pulled his hand away and stuffed it in his pocket. “Um...thanks.”
“It’s time to head inside.” Mother Nature said as the rest of the guests arrived. “Leave your weapons at the door.” She side-eyed the twins and walked inside as a magical forcefield went up.
Jack looked up in awe. “I’m guessing this is how you keep magic from being used inside.”
He followed them inside and sat in a chair.
Bunny and someone who appeared to be the Groundhog were arguing over a seat, ending with her pushing him to the ground and sitting calmly in her seat.
The castle was much larger on the inside than Jack imagined.
It was probably bigger than the North Pole.
But what surprised him the most was seeing Pitch casually enjoying a conversation with a spirit covered in flowers.
He smiled a little. Maybe there could be a chance for them all to get along.
Everyone was chatting and quieted down when Mother Nature stood at the front of the room. She cleared her throat and when she spoke, Jack realized how ethereal her voice sounded. Like it was everywhere at once. It was strong and harsh, but soft and comforting at the same time. He could tell he would not want to upset her.
“Welcome. Thank you all for coming. It’s good to see that we are continuing to see your faces after all these years. The same faces mean we have the same alliances. We do have a new face here. We welcome Jack Frost, newly-appointed Guardian. This is his first time at this event.”
The spirits looked at him. He sunk in his chair, unsure of what to say.
Thankfully, the room went quiet as the doors burst open. A wind so cold even Jack shuttered filled the room. There was a heavy stomping and with each step there was a jingle of bells.
“You aren’t having a party without me, are you?” A deep, growling voice that sent shivers down Jack’s spine asked.
He turned around, seeing a large figure approaching. Hooded in a dark red cloak, frayed and tattered.
Jack stared, confused, while everyone else had stood, readying to fight. “Oh, come now, you know there’s no violence allowed at these things.”
“Who are you?” Jack asked.
The figure turned its head, looking at Jack. The figure pulled its hood down and Jack’s stomach turned.
A beast. With large horns, both broken. A human eye, glowing red, an animal eye, a sickly yellow, with a horizontal pupil. Large, sharp teeth and a crooked jaw turned into a sneer. Covered in snow white fur. Even taller than North. Just staring at him made Jack feel a sense of dread.
“Who am I?” He laughed. “Never thought I’d have to introduce myself. Nowadays I just go by Krampus. And you must be Jack Frost. I’ve heard so much about you. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” He held out his large paw.
Pitch immediately stood defensively in front of Jack. “Don’t you have better things to do? Like eating garbage cans?”
He growled lowly. “Isn’t this a time of peace? Shouldn’t I be welcome?”
“No one wants you here.”
“Oh you wound me, Pitch.” Krampus looked at Jack. “I wasn’t always a monster, you know. I used to help children. I was the first Santa. Then Man in the Moon decided to replace me. Can you imagine? Me, a loving father, replaced by a man who spent his whole life robbing and killing!” He roared, motioning to North.
“You leave now or not even the grace of the Fates will save you.” Mother Nature said.
“Why were you replaced?” Jack asked.
“Because he wanted to eat children’s souls.” Pitch said
“I wanted to discipline children so they behave more, but one wrong spell and I turn into this. What did Manny do when he saw me like this? Did he look for a way to turn me back? Or did he turn his back on me? You know what that’s like, don’t you Jack? Manny seeing you in distress and then doing nothing to help?”
Pitch pulled Jack behind him. “You will leave or we’ll roast you and turn you into a stew!”
Krampus stepped back, not taking his eyes off of Jack. “I suppose there’s always next year. Pleasure to meet you, Jack.” He bowed and disappeared in a flurry of snow.
Something in Jack almost made him run after him. Seeing him felt...familiar somehow. As if he felt safe near him.
He shook his head and looked at the others. They were all on edge and looked at Jack.
“Why was I so important to him?” He asked, looking at Mother Nature.
She pursed her lips and glanced over at another spirit who nodded, standing. He quickly walked to another room.
“He’s just trying to get a rise out of us. It’s best to ignore him.” She looked to the others. “Carry on. I have to have a meeting with Time.” She turned on her heel and walked after the other spirit.
“Are you okay, Jack?” North asked.
“I’m fine...why is everyone so scared of him? He’s just another spirit.”
“Krampus is different...even bad spirits like Pitch...they still have souls. Krampus. He has none. His heart is...too consumed by dark to ever be good.”
“What happened with him?”
“I don’t know full story. I just know he tried to be stricter Santa and...did not end well.”
Jack looked at the door. Why did he want to go after him?
He stood up and flew out, ignoring everyone calling after him.
Something was calling to him and he needed to find out what and why.
Jack scanned the area, looking for some form of a sign as to where Krampus went.
A pull in his chest directed him towards a snowy mountain range.
As he got closer, the weather dropped, winds picked up, and snow spun in the air around him in the form of a snow storm. Both the unease and the bite of the snow were enough to make Jack lose feeling in his body. It was the first time he had ever remembered feeling cold.
He shivered, flying through the storm. There was definitely no doubt that Krampus was here.
A strong wind knocked him out of the sky, hitting the side of a mountain. He groaned in pain, gripping the cliff face.
This was probably a bad idea, but he had gone too far to give up.
He took a breath and launched himself off the mountain and shielded his face with his arms.
There it was again.
A pull in his chest.
He looked around and saw a cave opening in the bottom of a mountainside.
That’s where it wants me to go.
He flew down and landed in the opening.
It appeared empty. And since he didn’t see anywhere else, Jack figured it’d be a good enough place to warm himself up.
He made his way toward the back of the cave in an attempt to get away from the storm brewing outside.
Jack took a breath and sighed, closing his eyes. “What am I doing here?”
His head jerked up, hearing the crackle of fire deeper in the cave. He stood up and walked toward the sound.
Smoke filled the air and Jack sighed with relief as it got warmer.
As predicted, there was a campfire going. A rather big one. He quickly jumped, getting into a battle position when he realized Krampus was sitting a bit away, preparing some form of meat to be cooked. It was then, of course, that Jack realized that he had forgotten his staff.
“I wouldn’t try that if I were you, son. Ice doesn’t work on me.” He simply said, not looking Jack’s way. “Sit. I’m just getting dinner ready.”
Jack, too stunned to say anything in response, simply sat down. Krampus slowly walked over, setting a large slab of meat onto a skillet and sitting across from Jack.
It was silent except for the sound of the fire and the sizzle of the food cooking.
“So what brings you here?” Krampus finally asked.
Jack opened his mouth, but found no words.
He didn’t know.
He simply closed his mouth and sighed.
That seemed to be an acceptable answer for Krampus. He grunted in acknowledgement.
“I see. The fancy Guardian party bore you?”
“No. I mean, I don’t know. I left after you did. I...just needed to...I don’t know, talk? To you. I don’t know why I’m here. Something just told me to come find you.”
Krampus nodded. “This is what they feared, I assume.”
“Feared? Why?”
“Haven’t you heard? I’m a monster. You’re in danger around me.”
“Then how come I don’t feel in danger?”
“Because you’re young and stupid.”
Jack pursed his lips, unsure of how to respond to that. He had been pretty foolish in the past.
“Why are you...like this?” Jack finally asked.
Krampus laughed, making the hairs on Jack’s neck stand. “Why? Writing a biography about me?”
“I...was just curious.”
Krampus took a handful of some vegetables, tossing them into the skillet with the meat and took a bite out of a carrot. “Well that’s a loaded question, I suppose. I was like you before. Human.”
“You were?”
He nodded. “Very. Had a wife. Kids. I was a hunter. Provided food for my people. Then I saved the wrong person and got stuck as Santa.”
“You were the first Santa. What happened?”
“You already know. I eat children’s souls, remember?”
“Maybe I want to hear your side of the story.”
Krampus laughed again. “Oh, there’s always only one side of the story that’s correct.”
“So it’s true then?”
“Do you think it is?”
“I don’t know what to think.”
“I’m not a good person, son. I’m the stuff of nightmares. Even Pitch is afraid of me. Centuries of loneliness turned me into this. I took bad children’s souls. Replaced them with good children so their parents could have the good child they wanted. Turned the bad ones into an army of underlings for me. Word spread around, Man in the Moon was furious and exiled me to this cave. Where the cold is too intense for anyone but me to survive.”
Jack said nothing. He was horrified at what he had heard.
Stealing children’s souls to use them for his own selfish needs.
His stomach turned a little.
After a few more minutes of silence, Jack finally spoke. “Was that why you were turned into a…?” He was lost at what to describe him as.
“Monster?” Krampus asked.
He nodded.
Krampus nodded. “Unfortunately, doing bad things will get you turned into a hideous beast. This is the result of the spell I created. When you create something designed to take souls, you start to lose yours slowly.”
“Why did you take the kids’ souls?”
“Well I couldn’t very well destroy their souls. That’d be cruel.”
Jack made a face, unsure if he was joking or not.
“It started out as a way to find the best lost soul to replace my lost children.”
Jack smirked a little. “What? Couldn’t find yourself a Mrs. Claus?”
Krampus cracked a smile, but forced it back into his default scowl. “I only have room in my soul for my Mariana...Died so young...I was able to find her soul and take it before Death could. And my daughter’s...I was never able to get my son’s.”
“Why not?”
“His soul still wanders.”
“Like a ghost?”
“Of sorts.”
Jack sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “This is all a lot to understand…”
“Why did you come searching for me?”
“I don’t know...I just...felt like I needed to know about you. Something is calling to me here and I don’t know what.”
Krampus stood, moving the food off the fire. “Come with me.”
“Why?”
“I know what is calling to you.”
He started off.
Jack was unsure of if this was a bad idea, but followed nonetheless.
“Following a soul stealer into his dark and scary cave. Real smart idea.” Jack said to himself.
“I trust your gut.” Krampus said.
The cave opened up into a damp, humid cavern that was significantly warmer than expected. Stalagmites formed into shapes that resembled furniture. Torches lined every wall, lighting the space up, along with the hole in the top of the cave that allowed the moon to shine down on every surface inside. There were multiple tunnels that led to somewhere.
Krampus ducked down, walking into one. Jack quickly flew after him. “Where are we going?”
“A place that not a lot of people have come out of.”
“Comforting.”
The tunnel ended and they stepped out into another room that looked similar to the main area of the cavern. Except the cave walls had been formed into shelves that held orbs filled with different colored smoke.
“Whoa...what is this place?”
“This is where the souls I collect go.”
“These are souls?”
He nodded. “They’re not hurt, I promise. They don’t even know where they are. As far as they know, they’re living their normal lives.”
“They’re calling to me?”
“One of them.” He walked over to a stand where two orbs, one with brown smoke, another with bright pink, sat comfortably.
Jack walked over. “Why would they be calling to me?”
“Because something wanted your family together again.”
“My family?” He picked up the pink one, looking at it.
Jack, come on! I wanna go play!
His little sister was in the orb. Laughing as she played with someone who looked like him.
Someone who was him.
He dropped it in shock.
Krampus quickly dove to catch it and held it close. “Be careful! If you drop these, their souls are gone forever!”
“That’s my sister. Why do you have her!? Who are you!?”
He carefully set it back on the pedestal and looked back at Jack. Jack jumped, kicking him in the chest, pushing him back.
Krampus grunted, catching himself. He stood, growling quietly. “Jack-”
“Let her go!”
Wind picked up inside, rattling all the orbs. Snow spun around furiously and Jack shot a stream of ice out of his hands at Krampus, who knocked it away and roared. “If you keep up your tantrum, you’ll destroy every last soul in here and they’ll be gone forever!”
His voice echoed throughout the cave and Jack stopped, cowering a little. The wind and snow stopped and Jack stared quietly. He panted, looking around. “I told you. I had my wife and daughter’s souls saved. So I would never be without them.”
“You...they…”
“My son’s soul was never able to be captured because...it’s still around.”
“No...you’re lying.”
“I’m many things. A liar is not one of them. You, Jack…”
“Don’t say it.”
“You are my child.”
“I said SHUT UP!” A burst of cold shot through the room, freezing everything.
Jack panted, clenching his fists.
“Jack-”
He flew out of the cave, landing back at the Ceremony of Spirits, catching his breath.
The others ran up to him, crowding around him.
“Jack!” Bunny called.
“Are you hurt?” Tooth asked.
“Jack, you look terrible.” North said, holding his face, checking for any injuries.
Jack pushed them away. “Is he telling the truth?”
“What are you talking about?” Tooth asked.
“Krampus!”
They all quieted down, looking at him solemnly.
“Is he telling the truth? He’s my dad?”
They said nothing, unsure of what to say.
“How long...how long have you guys known?”
“Since you were chosen.” Bunny sighed.
“So you all knew and were just going to hide it from me!? Why? You think I’m going to be as bad as him?”
“Of course not, Jack.” Tooth said, resting a hand on his shoulder.
He moved her hand away, glaring. “Do not touch me.”
“We’re sorry. We didn’t want you to freak out.”
“So you were just going to keep it a secret from me for the rest of eternity!? No wonder Bunny didn’t want me to be a Guardian...look at who my dad is.”
“Now that’s not true-” Bunny tried to defend.
Mother Nature moved to the front of the group. “I know this is a lot to process. I know what it’s like to have a bad spirit as a father.”
“Don’t! Don’t try to sympathize with me! All of you need to stay away from me!” Jack snatched up his staff and turned away.
“Where are you going?” Tooth asked.
“Away from all of you.” He flew off, wiping tears from his face.
He landed, sitting inside a hole in a tree, curled up to fit inside.
Alone.
Maybe loneliness ran in his family.
Jack chewed on a piece of grass, staring up at the moon. He closed his eyes, crying.
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About my Mother: Loki Friggason
At Asgard we say that from your father inherits courage, and from your mother the heart that contains it. I would also add the love that moves it, ... but then I would start wondering what I inherited from her, and awaken thoughts that I don’t like, and I’d like to avoid it. I know them well, those thoughts. They’re shapeless and dark creatures, the ghosts of an adopted and betrayed child who, broken by rage, has become a wary and shadowy man.
If I think back to my life I find nothing but violent emotions, highs and lows, jealousies, unspoken things that have devoured everyone's life ... but one thing that concerns me has always been the same. I am my mother's son.
No, you don’t have to laugh.
It's not one of my fucking jokes to break the tension. It is the truth. For once.
Perhaps the only, purest truth of my life.
Loki Friggason.
Of all the names with which they know me at Asgard and up and down the Sacred Tree, this is what I feel forever mine.
Strange, isn’t? I am what I have been: feared, offended, rejected, fought, humiliated, hated, mistreated. They lied to me lifelong with a smile on their lips, even expecting that I would accept it without batting an eyelid, perhaps even thanking. They belittled me and tried to stifle my voice.
I am a God, immortal, powerful, a Frost Giant, a robbed King, I have a thousand titles, I have been all and my powers are immense, ... yet this is what I really am, under my armor, and beyond the smile sarcastic.
My mother's son. Loki Friggason.
We can’t choose parents, they say, and nothing fits my story better. Because I am the chosen one.
From my father, out of interest and for revenge towards his enemy.
From my mother, for love.
Frigga, Queen of Asgard, Protectress of the Women, the Radiant, the Weaver of Clouds.
I don’t remember anything of that temple of black ice, in the depths of Jotunheim, of the frozen rock, of that newborn who was waiting to die, abandoned like a faulty animal. Nor do I remember my father taking me away from there, already imagining the scheme of his plan, while the tears on my face were still drying.
No, my first memory is a wonderfully sweet voice that sings to me to fall asleep, and which whispers my name. By the way, she chose my name. Loki. Or Loður, as I find it easier in my Norse language.
Spirit of Fire and Air. He always told me, like a kind of fairy tale before bed, when I was a child, ... a little monster who had just learned to speak.
And I still remember it perfectly.
"Loður, my little Loður ... this is what you are, what I see in your eyes, green as the leaves moved by the wind, you are the sun that makes them shine and that wind ... you are that wind, Lodur, untrustworthy like him, unpredictable, intelligent ... the breath of life of things, the elusiveness of thought, you are important, little Loður , never forget it. "
And instead I forgot it.
I have forgotten it many times, just as others have done.
Frigga instead was love.
She didn’t care that I was different, she didn’t care that I was not as loud as Thor, as popular as Thor ... it was enough for her to be me.
Loður was enough for her.
It was enough for her to love me. And his love made me forget many times my being adopted and kept there, in the shade and thirsty for attention.
My mother helplessly witnessed my descent into the abyss of despair and folly, to which that infamous revelation brought me. He saw his son (the gentle one, the silent one, the one who was always stepping back and never protesting) breaks, crumble under the weight of a pain that she, alone, couldn’t in any way alleviate.
Yet she tried. Because a mother never gives up, not even when she sees her son ("my little Lodur ...") deformed by pain, distorted by resentment. She tried to save me, to be near me. She tried to medicate invisible wounds that would never be healed, tried to put together the shreds of his miserable son who now hated everything and everyone.
She tried, knowing from the beginning that he would never succeed.
She cried for me when I let the emptiness over Bifrost swallow me, after the last, despicable refusal of my father tears me forever. She was always close to me anyway, for making me felt loved and included.
Here's what my mother always did: she included me. Surrounded with love. Kept me tight, made to feel important.
Even when she would have every reason to stop.
And even when she had to speak to me severely, she did it with a smile, a warm voice, a desperate look, ... and I, blinded by rage, after discovering the truth about me, refused it. I rejected her.
Without knowing it would be the last time I saw her face. Without knowing that the murderer bastard who took her away from me, would use my words to deceive me. It wasn’t her that I wanted him to find, ... it wasn’t she who had to fight, ... it wasn’t her, it wasn’t her,... oh, Norns, forgive me! Forgive me, Mother!! If only I knew how many times I invoked death for what I did ...
But maybe not even death would be enough for my deeds.
I pushed her away, that time in the transparent cell for the precious animal as I was, in which Odin had confined me for the long, infinite life of a God.
I told her horrible words, I spoke her harshly. But as they say, if you beat a dog once, it will wait for you to always beat him, and it will defend himself. I just wanted to defend myself.
I wanted my mother to feel my pain screaming, I wanted her to understand what it meant to feel rejected and humiliated.
I just wanted her to understand.
I wanted her to ignore my refusal and hug me.
I wanted her to come and get me back, to keep me tight until it was all over.
But she couldn’t, because in reality she wasn’t even there, ... it was just her made of air and magic.
Because my father had condemned me to die of hardship, thirsty and hungry for human contacts: he had forbidden everyone to have contact with me. With the monster. With the killer. With the traitor. With that adopted and unworthy son who had discredited his precious name.
So I lost her forever.
And my life went on more or less badly, with her memory inside me.
I remember her beautiful, blue eyes, blond hair, elegant hands. I remember her as she told me stories and legends of ancient peoples. While she explained to me spells and consoled my child tears with small, innocent spells for make me forgot anxieties and sadness. Or when she laughed amused, while Thor and I showed her childish drawings of monsters and giants.
Or she still embraced us both, already young men taller than she, and we pretended to be embarrassed for those attentions, while we couldn’t be more delighted.
Frigga was my mother, but also Thor’s, but she didn’t share her love in an unjust way like Odin did. She consoled both, embraced us, played, scolded us but without making distinctions.
Only her love for me was different, in a way. Sometimes when I think back, like now, it makes me say...more dense.
Like when to a sickly person we reserve the most substantial food for them to recover more carefully.
So, I was sickly in the soul and she knew it, and her mother's instinct led her to reserve one more caress. The one I often waited from my father. And that Thor received regularly, along with many other manifestations of pride and affection.
I learned to do without both very soon, but Frigga was always by my side to support me. Even in the darkest periods. When it was easy for everyone to turn their back to me, pointing finger and direct to me aawful words, full of hate and poison.
It is always easier to judge than to make an effort to understand, and if there’s anything my damned life can teach, it is just that.
But who has never heard his soul scream like an animal, who has never gone mad of pain, who has never stuck in the darkness of his soul torn to pieces, can never understand. And they will continue to call me "monster", "killer", "traitor".
While I am and I will always be Loki Friggason.
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The Best in the West - Chapter 4
Chapter 4 - Primal Desires
Rating: M
Warnings: Smut
Word Count: 3,510
Chapter Summary: Arthur managed to catch Joseph and is stuck in the country of West Elizabeth for the night. While Arthur tries to keep things moving as planned, Joseph has other ideas.
Note: Contains smut. AU where Arthur was never apart of Dutch’s gang and makes his living as a bounty hunter. Takes place shortly before the Blackwater heist. Plans for this to become a slow-burn between Arthur and male OC.
[ read on ao3 ]
West Elizabeth was full of plains and grasslands, perfect for bison, but not so much hiding. Arthur managed to capture Joseph near a large tree that provided nice cover compared to most of the land that surrounded them. It was the only one within a reasonable distance, and Arthur was content with it. He moved the horse to the tree and hitched him around the trunk. He patted the thoroughbred’s neck and gave him a small smile. Joseph was still some ways off and layed in the dirt where Arthur had tied him
“S’pose I should bring him over,” he mumbled to himself, and partly to the horse. The idea seemed daunting. Arthur wasn’t sure how the night was going to go, and he knew for a fact he was not going to get any sleep tonight. His stomach roiled with nerves and anxieties as the possibilities laid out in his head. If he was stupid enough, he would have taken Joseph straight to Blackwater, but bounty thieves ran rampant across the country, and Arthur needed strength to fight back if that were to happen. He worried about the other two men and where they were, and what the rest of the gang was plotting. By far, the hardest part about this bounty was the consequences.
Arthur walked over to Joseph and took long, heavy steps. Joseph had his head turned to the side and looked Arthur up and down. His eyes constantly moved and assessed every last inch of the bounty hunter. Arthur felt a strange tingle at the nape of his neck as he noticed, and he could almost feel the other man’s eyes raking over him. Ever since he had nearly been robbed by the man, Arthur had not had a moment where he felt his normal self. He clenched his fists and jaw and narrowed his eyes as he looked down on the man.
“Why don’t you look spectacular at this angle,” Joseph said, his voice facetious, and a smirk began to curl on his lips.
“Shut up,” Arthur groaned. He leaned down to lift Joseph and grabbed him by his middle. As he lifted, his hand had to shift to balance the weight and he took hold of Joseph’s thigh.
“Oh, wow, I would have never thought you had such magic hands,” Joseph said.
Arthur’s heart jumped and he fought against his instinct to tighten his grip in anger and embarrassment. He felt heat begin to flare in his chest and face and he moved his feet faster in a desperate attempt to get back to the tree. When he did, he flung the larger man onto the ground, making sure he landed hard.
Joseph groaned, but Arthur was surprised to see that the man looked barely fazed at all. At most, the landing was just a small annoyance. Arthur allowed himself to clench his fists again.
Silently, Arthur started to work on making camp. He walked around and found enough tinder for a fire and picked a spot for it. The whole while, Joseph’s eyes followed him. Arthur could see the light blue of his irises, which were stark in contrast to their darkening surroundings and the brown beard that covered his face. At one point, Arthur had subconsciously reached up to feel his own beard, which was bushy and poked out in every which way, compared to Joseph’s tidy and combed one.
Arthur kneeled down next to the fire and reached in his pocket for his matches. He scraped the match twice before getting a flame, then dropped it carefully onto the pile he had made.
“It’s about time you started that. I’m starving, you know.” Joseph said. The nonchalance of the statement made Arthur roll his eyes. He started to think that maybe the ones that curse and spit at him were better, and in a weird way, he missed people like Skinny Abe. Hard to imagine that he had just caught that fool only days prior. Their responses were easier to deal with and expected; he didn’t know what to do about Joseph. Was his nonchalance something to worry about? He supposed that being apart of such a prominent gang, he expected a swift rescue.
“You better shut your got-damn mouth, boy,” Arthur calmly told him. He pushed his worries to the back of his mind.
“Boy ? Have you seen the size of yourself?”
Arthur spun around and glared at the tied-up man, who had a cheeky smile on his face. Joseph behaved as if he wasn’t tied up at all, and Arthur could see he was having fun prodding the bear.
“I mean, seriously, look how teeny you are. It’s kinda cute, in a weird way.” Joseph laughed fully now.
“Size hasn’t seemed to keep you out of that rope,” Arthur pointed out. His voice was deeper than usual and rough. “Or have you noticed?”
“I’ve more than noticed,” Joseph said. “But you haven’t even looked at me since you’ve got me all bound up.”
“I don’t need to look at you. I just want the money that’s on your head.”
Arthur felt as his eyes started to move over Joseph regardless, unable to help himself, and took in as much as he could. Joseph’s arms were thick as tree branches, and his coal-black union shirt stuck tightly to his body. He had a bit of a stomach that popped outwards, but Arthur didn’t let that detract him from the real strength that he knew was hidden behind the skin. When his eyes went lower, Arthur felt a new rush of heat when he saw a small tent at the bigger man’s crotch.
Joseph laughed and threw his head back. Arthur turned quickly away and back to the fire, where he stared intently in an attempt to distract himself. He felt the heat begin to pool in the bottom of his stomach and fought against his conscious to hold it off.
“Oh, come on now,” Joseph said, “are you a damn nun or something? Why are you so embarrassed?”
Arthur remained silent and moved his hands around the campfire in an effort to look busy, but all he did was move some sticks.
“You’re no fun. I bet I could make you say something if I was untied.”
Arthur shut his eyes and felt his stomach do a full twist. Unwillingly, he felt the blood and heat begin to rush south, and his jeans became tighter in his groin.
Arthur stood and turned hastily to his horse. His satchel was on the saddle, and he needed something to do to keep him occupied. He laid out a plan; first to cook some pork, then craft a few more bullets, and maybe he’d widdle something neat. Anything that would distract his roaming thoughts and imagination. He stuck his hand in his satchel and started rummaging through it.
“At least be a decent man and give me some relief,” Joseph pestered. He was never-ending, and Arthur felt his own judgment begin to slowly seep away. The proposed idea began to swim in his head.
“Shut the hell up!” Arthur shouted at him from over his shoulder. He found the pork, wrapped up in some paper and string, and grabbed some herbs as well. From the saddle, he took down some metal wires and plate, which he used over the fire to roast the herbs into the meat. When he had everything, he turned back around, taking care to turn away from Joseph, and went back to the fire.
Joseph huffed and didn’t reply, but Arthur felt the sickly sweet feeling that he had felt all day as Joseph’s eyes followed his every movement. Suddenly Arthur felt insecure and aware of his own body. He started to think about how it’d been a few days since he had visited the bath in Armadillo, and how his hair could use a good trim and pomade. His clothes were a mess and covered with dirt and sweat. His hands felt light and uneasy, and they quivered as he set up his tools for cooking.
Once everything was ready, the fire was tall and bright. Arthur sprinkled some herbs onto the meat and put it on the plate, then held it down with his knife. It would take a few minutes for the food to cook, and as he waited Arthur couldn’t help but think about Joseph and what he had seen. He knew this had to be some ploy by the other man, but it had been so long since Arthur had felt the touch of another man. A few years, at least, when his last bounty partner had been shot by one of the men they were chasing.
Arthur had never been with someone bigger than him, and deep inside he felt some kind of draw to it. He wondered what it would be like to feel the full flesh and strength of the other man envelope him, what it would be like to have Joseph’s rough hands slide down his ribs and over his hip. And he thought about how much skin there was for him to touch and kiss and stroke. Oh, and the size of him, I wonder if it correlates, he thought to himself.
He shook his head and clenched his eyes shut. None of that, Arthur, he chided himself. It was as if he was a teenager again, running off to the woods to imagine some boy he saw on the train.
Halfway through cooking the pork, Arthur started to hear Joseph rustling behind him. He turned his head and saw the man squirming, rubbing his side and back along the dirt and moving his wrists and legs.
“What’s the matter with you?” Arthur asked. He narrowed his eyes.
“I need some relief,” he said, matter-of-factly. He looked Arthur dead in the eyes and moved his hips. “Come give me a hand.”
“Why would I do that?” Arthur felt his gaze shift lower on Joseph’s body. The tent had grown, and Arthur’s mouth started to water and tingle, as if tiny shocks of energy were being sent through him.
“You look lonely. Let me help you out.” Joseph’s voice lowered and got slower. His blue eyes were shocking and kept Arthur in one place. Arthur didn’t move a muscle. In the back of his mind, he heard the pork sizzling on the fire, but he dropped his knife on the ground and stood up. His breathing picked up pace and he felt the adrenaline begin to rapidly carve through his veins.
Joseph’s eyes widened partly and a sly smile began to creep on his face. He shifted his hips some more and looked at Arthur hungrily.
“I shouldn’t be thinkin’ about this,” Arthur said quietly. He took a couple of steps towards Joseph.
“Who cares? It’ll feel good.”
Arthur felt fire burning in his eyes as he appreciated Joseph for what he was. His lips, although half hidden behind his beard, looked soft and plump. And with the size of the tent in his pants, Arthur could only imagine how his cock might look underneath. He licked his lips and continued to move closer until he was by Joseph’s side.
Joseph looked up at Arthur. His eyes twinkled and Arthur saw his chest move up and down faster than before. His chest was nice and full of raw strength, and Arthur wanted to take ahold of him and squeeze his pecs.
“You look nice all tied up like that,” Arthur told him. “You’re so helpless.”
Joseph narrowed his eyes and smiled. “That’s what you think.”
Arthur kneeled down into a crouch next to the bigger man. His mouth hung open ever so slightly as he took in Joseph’s body. He reached out a hand and lightly brushed his knuckles from the top of his chest down to his navel. Joseph was pure muscle, and he could feel how taut his body was even through the shirt. He kept his hand just above Joseph’s groin and left his fingertips sitting gently on his shirt.
“Do you want me to touch you?” Arthur asked and moved his head to look Joseph in the eyes. Arthur’s forest green eyes clashed with Joseph’s blue, and Arthur watched as the other man’s pupils grew in size.
“Obviously,” Joseph said.
Arthur took his hand and back-slapped Joseph. It was lighter than Arthur would normally hit somebody, but he hoped he got his point across regardless. Joseph groaned and moved his tongue around his mouth and opened and closed it in an attempt to bring feeling back into his cheek.
Joseph’s browns drew down fully, and Arthur imagined that the man would growl at him if he were a dog. Joseph bared his teeth, same as when he was caught, and bucked his hips.
“Are you going to hit me back?” Arthur cooed, one eyebrow raised. He smirked. “No, of course not. Do you want me to touch you?”
Joseph scoffed, then said, “Yes.”
“Good boy,” Arthur brought his hand back up and put it just above the tent in Joseph’s pants. He circled his fingertips before he moved his hand lower. His fingers ghosted across the top of the tent as he traced the shape of Joseph’s manhood, and he drew a very quiet whimper from the other man. Arthur felt his own cock start grow full and stiff and felt the tip wetten with his pre-cum.
Arthur moved his hand to unbuckle the dark brown and worn leather belt that was around Joseph’s waist. The belt buckle shined and was roughly three inches; Arthur imagined Joseph stole it, which was probably the truth. He undid the buckle and pulled it out of one of the loops to loosen Joseph’s jeans.
“Lift your hips,” Arthur directed Joseph and grabbed ahold of the sides of the jeans. Joseph lifted his butt from the ground and allowed Arthur to tug his jeans down to his lower thighs.
Arthur saw the wet spot on Joseph’s underwear where his pre-cum had spread and could see his cock in more detail. He grabbed the shaft and moved his hand slightly just to tease the larger man and Arthur watched Joseph’s face fall slack and his head hit the dirt with the hint of relief.
Arthur slipped his hands under the hem of the underwear and pulled. Joseph’s cock flung out once it was released and Arthur smiled. The man was girthy and long, and the vein on the bottom of his shaft was thick and pulsing. His head was partly covered by his foreskin, and the precum on his slit gleamed from the firelight. Arthur grabbed the shift in full this time and started to move his hand slowly.
“That’s a nice one you’ve got,” Arthur cooed. Joseph grunted and bucked his hips.
Arthur flicked his thumb over Joseph’s head, covering his thumb with precum, and brought his hand up to his mouth. He licked the precum off and licked his lips. Joseph, who had opened his eyes when Arthur removed his hand, watched intently. His eyes were nearly completely pupil at this point, surrounded by a very thin iris. Arthur could see Joseph’s pulse in the artery in his neck and fought the urge to bend down and rack his teeth across it.
Arthur returned his hand to Joseph’s cock and stroked a little faster. “You’ve been such a bad boy lately,” Arthur told him. His voice was low and deep like a wolf’s growl. “Does it make you happy to watch people suffer?”
Joseph moaned and arched his back. His cock was slick with his precum, which had started flowing again after Arthur grabbed his cock.
“I like to watch men suffer, too,” Arthur said, and he tightened his grip on Joseph’s cock. His pace picked up and Joseph’s breathing became louder and faster. Arthur heard the air through the other man’s mouth, which hung agape. Joseph’s muscles in his thighs twitched and clenched.
“Do you like it when I touch you like this?” Arthur asked.
Joseph groaned.
Arthur snapped his hand left hand forward and grabbed Joseph’s jaw. “I asked a question, boy.”
“Yes, I like it.” Joseph’s voice was muffled by the way his mouth smushed from Arthur’s grip.
“‘Yes, I like it,’ what?”
“Yes, I like it. . . sir,” Joseph stumbled. Arthur saw the conflict in Joseph’s eyes when he thought the words over in his head. He smirked, and he enjoyed the view of the big man fumbling and breaking underneath him.
Arthur quickened his pace again. Joseph’s breathing stuttered and caught in his throat as became more erratic. Arthur caught the signal and his own jaw slackened with his focus. “Are you close, boy?”
“Y-yes, sir.” Joseph’s voice became a whimper, and Arthur loved it. The big man had fell like a log, and Arthur heard it.
“Yeah? How close?”
“Very. . .” Joseph moaned nearly every breath by this point. Arthur’s hand moved fast and flicked once he reached the head. Joseph’s bucking hips helped his movement, and Arthur knew it was nearly time. He watched the subtle facial expressions on Joseph’s face and waited. One more moment. . .
Arthur ripped his hand away from Joseph’s cock and watched as the tied man’s eyes snapped open. His hips bucked and jerked and he looked from his cock to Arthur wildly. “What the hell!” He yelled. His cock twitched and his face bubbled red with anger.
Arthur chuckled. “I want to watch you suffer.” He grabbed Joseph’s underwear and tugged them up to cover Joseph again but left the jeans down. Joseph thrashed and cursed him out as he did so. When he was done, Arthur stood up, dusted off his hands, and moved to the fire. He noticed the pork on the grill and cursed, then picked it up with his knife and flung it to the side. It was wasted and charred to all hell on the one side, but luckily he had a nice supply of venison from his time in New Austin that he could cook.
Before he went to the saddle to fetch the venison, Arthur unbuckled his own belt and pulled his pants and underwear down to his knees. The sun was only a sliver on the horizon and the firelight caressed Arthur’s strong thighs covered by an ocean of curls. Joseph shut his mouth, still full of anger but distracted by the sight of Arthur’s cock.
Arthur wasn’t as thick, but he was long, and when his foreskin was down he had a perfectly shaped head. It was red and glistened with his precum and stood tilted up toward the sky slightly. Arthur took ahold of it and started to stroke, nice and slow, his movements calculated and smooth. He rubbed his palm along his head and tilted his head back and moaned. It was loud and primal, and Joseph’s cock twitched again.
With increased speed, Arthur started to loosen his jaw and bend his head forward. He watched Joseph intently as he stroked himself and thought about how useless the man was on the ground, tied up and flustered. Arthur thought about all the ways he could fuck the big man and how he’d make him scream his name. In the end, all of his bounties cursed and damned him, but none would be so sweet as Joseph. He wanted revenge, and Joseph was apart of the only gang Arthur wanted to see end so badly. There was something sinfully beautiful about fucking the man who burned your house down.
Arthur started to feel his own heartbeat race and stutter, and his breathing caught in his throat as he felt his balls tighten and the heat in his stomach pooled. He yelled a furious moan as his climax hit, and his sperm shot out and landed next to Joseph. His hips bucked forward and his head fell back; his thighs were taut and strained.
Arthur gasped as his climax slowly ended and his blood began to return to the rest of his body. He slowed his pace and let the last drips of his cum slowly fall from his head and onto his knuckles. He pulled up his jeans, careful to not touch his knuckles on anything, then went to Joseph. He bent down and put his hand in front of Joseph’s face. “Lick it off,” he commanded.
Joseph stared at Arthur for a few seconds before he moved his head forward and stuck his tongue out. The width of it made it easy for him to take it all off in one long stroke. He made it short and sweet, and he looked Arthur in the eyes the whole time. Arthur’s hairs stood on end and a shock went through his spine at the feel of Joseph’s tongue on his skin.
“Good boy,” Arthur whispered. He ran his hand along Joseph’s cheek, then abruptly stood up and went to his horse to find the venison. Maybe he would sleep after all.
#rdr2 fic#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#arthur morgan/male oc#arthur morgan/oc#writing#fanfic#fanfiction
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The Strings That Bind Us Together: A Needed Vacation
Chapter 3 of the Follower’s Sequel, set in @internetremix ‘s DMP universe. Featuring @miss-goggles character, Murder God! Hope you all enjoy!
Warm sunlight beat down on the white sand and crystal clear waters, making the air shimmer and sparkle in the midday sun. Palm trees lazily swayed in the wind, catching the incessant cheering of scantily clad volleyball players and passed out sunbathers. Anyone who wasn’t playing in the sand was holed up in the little tiki bar off to the side, the dark wooden paneling fitting the mood of the patrons trying to drown out their sorrows with alcohol, including a woman with short blonde hair nursing a glass of bourbon.
“Hello there dear, enjoying the vacation?” Old Priestess asked, walking behind the bar counter and grabbing a cocktail glass. Humming a little tune under her breath, she picked up a few bottles and poured the contents into a shaker. “And bourbon? Really? I was under the impression that hell would have to freeze over before you’d drink hard liquor.”
“I was just robbed of a long game and Vincent is being an ass and I know that bastard is planning something but I have no proof, I am a desperate woman Old Priestess,” Murder God said in something between an annoyed sigh and an honestly rather cute growl. She screamed in frustration and pushed the glass across the counter, planting her head into the polished wood. “It’s not like I can get drunk anyways.”
“What are you feeling, dearest? Death in the Afternoon, Spider’s Kiss, Devil’s Poison?”
“Which is most likely to not taste awful?”
“Spider’s Kiss it is then,” Old Priestess said with a chuckle, grabbing the chocolate syrup and melon liqueur.
“Please tell me Young Priest’s training went well, I need a piece of good news right about now,” Murder God mumbled, rubbing her temples with her perfectly manicured fingers. “Also, what in the actual hell are you wearing?”
“You’re the one that made the beach episode, love. I’m just fitting the theme” Old Priestess replied, sliding the drink across the counter and taking a sip of her own questionably tasting drink. Her normal long, flowing garments had been replaced with a simple flower patterned bathing suit, covered by a see through magenta sarong and light windbreaker. “But I think our newest colleague will be more than ready for the big day. He’s given us quite the enthusiastic showing.”
“Good,” Murder God said through gritted teeth, sitting back up and snatching the drink up. Tipping it back, she drank far more of the cocktail than she should’ve in one gulp. “At least that’s one less thing I need to worry about.” She set the glass down, now almost half empty and smelling very strongly of vodka. “Speaking of which, where is he? And the rest of them? Did you lose them again?”
“Dearie, I’m not that irresponsible. They’re further off down the beach with Nebbie,” Old Priestess said with a casual hand wave, motioning to a little cove through the window. In the distance, a large comically light blue whale was surfaced just off of the coast, the small forms of the Followers lounging in the distance. On the whale themself were Witch and Huntress, the former sporting a frilled purple bikini with orange flowers while the latter covered her simple black swimsuit with a gray t-shirt. Further in, Advisor was dangling his toes into the water with a red and white towel at his side, dressed in a dark purple swim shirt and dark red swim shorts. Lieutenant was seated next to Advisor, sporting just a simple pair of blue swim trunks that exposed a web of horizontal scars crossing his back. The only outlier was Young Priest, dressed just the same as always and reading a book under a large umbrella.
“Oh good, they’re with the void whale, that’s so much better,” Murder God mumbled, drinking more of her cocktail and sighing as she watched the shenanigans go down.
“Need me to take over for a bit again?” Old Priestess asked, pushing her glasses further up her nose and opening her eyes in little slits to let the summer sunlight dance within her irises. “I do love running them. Reminds me of the old days before of all of this fancy magic and reality breaking when it was just you and me and that little strip of land out in the woods.”
“No, no, I’m fine, just leave me here with my drink that does absolutely nothing for my mental state, which by the way, doesn’t taste completely like off-brand moonshine, so thanks for that,” Murder God replied, dragging her finger around the rim of the glass. Raising two fingers into the air, she motioned to a woman floating off in the corner, scribbling endlessly on long rolls of scrolls with her long brown hair brushed back out of her face. “How goes the scribing there, Bookkeeper? Get everything in already?”
The woman glanced over, her quill still scribbling even though her attention was on the bar and the two of them. As like everyone else stuck in this scenario, she was dressed to the theme, wearing an earthy dark green bikini. She wordlessly motioned to the several scrolls floating behind her, all wrapped up with a single red string and lightly colored gold. “There was…not much to record…” Bookkeeper said, her voice low and dripping like honey.
“Good, because it’s time for you to go and meet your newest colleague,” Murder God said with a little more of her normal sadistically cheerful voice. “I’m sure his story will make an excellent addition to your collection. It’s been a bit since we last added something to the Followers’ section of the library.”
“If that is your will…” Without another word, Bookkeeper bowed her head and floated towards the exit of the bar, grabbing her sunhat off of a peg and plopping it over her pointed ears.
“I suppose that’s my cue to leave as well,” Old Priestess said, walking out from behind the bar and heading for the little exit to the bar. As she passed by the little mini fridge, she grabbed a large picnic basket that definitely had not been resting there a minute ago. “Have a good rest of your day, dearest.”
“Don’t think I didn’t see the fanfiction about me and Vincent, we are having a talk about that.”
“Oh Bookkeeper, how lovely it is to see you again,” Old Priestess said, completely brushing past her rather annoyed friend boss and catching up with the floating woman in just two strides. “Tell me, sweet pea, how has it been holed up in the library?”
Bookkeeper just focused on the scroll in hand, not even slightly twitching her ears to indicate she was paying attention.
“We missed you at the summons, you know. Doing things out in the open is never as much fun without our scribe there watching,” Old Priestess continued, letting the warm sand run over her bare feet and toes. “You also missed game night, Uno, poker, me winning…”
A wall would’ve reacted more.
“You know, I hear there was even a small massacre at, well, what little is left of the first game site.”
At this, the corners of Bookkeeper’s mouth twitched into something resembling a smile. “I see…I will…have to consult the others for the events that transpired then,” she remarked, switching out her scroll and continuing to write, the feather dancing along the page with the grace of a hummingbird in flight. “And I heard the summons and met with Lieutenant…I was just too busy catching up on my records to leave for any significant stretch of time.”
“You really need to get out more,” Old Priestess replied, turning a bend in the coastline. As their steps and idle chatter drew them closer to the other Followers, a small flicker tore through the carefully sculpted trees and background shrubbery. Before Old Priestess had the means or the care to patch up the hole so rudely punched through the fabric of the void, a man fell through and landed with something between clumsiness and impeccable grace on the sand. He was scrawny, sickly even, though tall enough to dwarf even the Lieutenant. Like a visual representation of why mortals should not mess with the natural order, the right half of his body was picture of relative health while the left was, at best, showing more muscle and bone than flesh. The nurse scrubs she had remembered seeing him in last were gone, instead replaced by a dark red wetsuit.
“Oh-oh-oh-oh, hello-hello-hello Old-Old Priestess-Priestess, Bookkeeper-Bookkeeper,” the man stuttered as he picked himself up off the ground and brushed the sand off of his arms and out of his curly gray hair.
“Oh gods, not you,” Bookkeeper muttered, aggressively grabbing her new quill and pulling a red string out of her hat. With two quick knots, she tied up the finished scroll with a little bow and set it off to float along behind her.
“Hello there, Doctor, enjoy your stay in the void?” Old Priestess asked, continuing to tread along the coast.
“Yes-yes-yes, it-it was-was-was very en-enjoyable, very-very educational,” he replied, picking up his fallen medical bag and clearing his throat. “Also-also YOU ABANDONED ME THERE.”
“Yeah I did,” she replied with a smirk and a small laugh.
“WHY.”
“Builds character and keeps you from trying to help people you shouldn’t be,” she said. She shrugged her shoulders and let a wicked smile cross her face. Bookkeeper smirked a little at the statement before continuing her writing. “Also, I don’t know if you heard, but it saved you from the attempted coup, so you should really be thanking me.”
“So-so-so it seems-seems,” Doctor replied, rubbing his left arm and shuddering. “Did-Did you think-think I-I-I was going-going to find-find my way-way-way out and come-come back-back-back?”
“I mean, you do have the nickname of the Part Timer for a reason, my love,” Old Priestess said, giving him a pat on his good shoulder.
“This-this-this is true-true,” he replied. “Though-though I did-did hear the-the-the summons and-and the good-good news-news-news.”
“Ah, good, we’re headed to meet him right now. Such a jumpy little thing, so compassionate…not unlike you,” she said with a sigh. “By the way...“
“Yes-yes?”
Old Priestess reached into the picnic basket and pulled out the bloodspattered dress from just a few days ago, a perfectly round bullet hole in both the front and back of the knitted fabric. “Could you be a dear and fix my dress?”
The stutter dropped. “…did you get shot again?”
Old Priestess suddenly found the giant whale much more fascinating than the current conversation. “...Not on purpose.”
“You said that last time.”
“It’s not like I was trying to ruin a perfectly good dress, he’s the one who fired the gun,” she said, casually gesturing into the air and smiling.
The Doctor sighed and grabbed the stained clothing out of her hands, stuffing it into his medical bag and zipping it shut. “Fine-fine-fine, but this-this-this is the-the last-last-last time-time,” he replied, slipping back into the stutter.
“You’re an absolute doll,” she said, gently patting his cheek as they rounded the bend and came into view and earshot of the other Followers. She cleared her throat a little, letting the wind and the land remember how to carry the voice of a elder god who once controlled the elements like a sculptor shapes stone and clay. “Young Priest!”
The young redhead just about leapt into the umbrella over his head, scrambling to close the book and get to his feet. “Y-yes, Old Priestess?”
“Come over here, I want you to say hello to the last two of our merry little bunch. They were a little…preoccupied and couldn’t make it to game night,” Old Priestess said with a calm smile, holding up the picnic basket for everyone to see. “Oh, and get something to eat. I brought sandwiches for everyone.”
“Aw sweet! Lunch time!” Huntress said, jumping off of the back of the monstrous whale and swimming back to shore.
Old Priestess set down the basket on a nearby rock, watching the others all get up and walk over, giving their greetings to the remaining two Followers and catching up on events long since past. Bookkeeper and Advisor began comparing notes on the past couple of days, both of them engrossed in their respective reading materials while Young Priest looked on in something akin to mild confusion and curiosity. Huntress and Doctor shared a bottle of wine while he took out a needle and thread for the repair work. Lieutenant simply took Young Priest’s place under the umbrella, lying back and stretching his wings out. Taking three sandwiches and some various cutlery, Old Priestess walked over to join him and promptly sat down out of the sun. She took a napkin and wrapped the turkey sandwich up in a neat little package and set it off to the side. For later.
After all, Witch would probably want something when she got back.
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Day 17 FFVII fic
Day 17 of the 30-Day AU Challenge is the Old West AU. I made an outline for a Bleach fic but then I realized I’d rather finish the sequel to my FFVII Wild West AU fluff.
Rated: G I think
Characters: pre-Cloud/Sephiroth, Angeal, Zack, Genesis and Cloud’s mom
Warnings: Fluff? If you didn’t like the first story, you’ll hate this too! xD
Cloud wasn’t really sure how his life had come to this. Sure, he’d made some bad choices—well, really, just one very huge bad choice—but now here he was, hurrying down the back street of Midgar, hoping and praying that no one could see him.
He’d known he’d chosen the wrong saloon to try and rob when the man had risen from behind the bar like one of the old gods rising up from the mountain. He knew he’d made a terrible mistake when the man just sassed him the entire time and then tried to poison him. Cloud had overheard someone once mention the “gray-haired” bartender and just assumed… and it had been the only place that was open yet vacant so early in the morning…
It wasn’t like he’d actually planned to commit a felony. He’d only taken Ma’s old pistol along just in case. Cloud knew he was a decent shot with Pappy’s old rifle, if the big critters living on the mountain happened on him. Ma always said that pistols were only good for killing one particular kind of animal, and she’d forbidden Cloud to have one, even if he’d ever had the money to buy one of the six-shooters he fantasized about. That didn’t explain why she’d kept the old single-shot, but she’d let slip once her daddy’d given it to her the day she was married, just in case. It made Cloud wonder.
She didn’t even know he’d slipped it into his pack when he was getting ready to leave the mountain. None of the other Nibelheim settlers believed the pass was open to get down to Midgar, but Cloud knew he had to try. There wasn’t enough provisions to go around, and Ma seemed weaker every day.
So it wasn’t like he’d planned to rob anyone, if the old man Lockhart had just extended the settlement’s credit a little more and let Cloud put his last pennies down on the medicine, but he’d refused and Cloud had had no choice.
It was fair to say he was ashamed by the whole encounter—no, he was more than that. He was embarrassed, mortified, would have gladly dug a hole and buried himself if it meant never having to go to Midgar again and run into that bartender. The entire thing had been just wrong.
He tucked the pistol away, clutched the basket of food tightly and hurried down the back streets and alleys to where his borrowed mule was still hitched outside the general store. His stomach knotted when he realized he couldn’t even go into the store now because surely the bartender would have raised the cry and the town would soon be after him. No, he’d had to travel another day down to Junon and hope he could find enough supplies and medicine there before it was too late.
He tied on the basket and was climbing onto the saddle when he felt someone grab the back of his belt. “Nope, you’re not going anywhere yet,” a voice said cheerfully as he was yanked to the ground.
“What the—who’re you?” Cloud tried to bluster.
“Aw, you hurt my feelings. I’ve seen you twice today, and you don’t even remember me?”
As if Cloud could forget the bigger, taller boy with the strange, spiky dark hair and the huge smile. “You were at the saloon,” Cloud said weakly.
“Hey, you do remember! Musta made an impression on you! I’m Zack!”
“I gotta go, Zack. Nice to meet you,” Cloud tried to reach around Zack to the saddle, but Zack was firmly in the way.
“Sorry, I can’t let you go yet. Seph wants me to bring you back.”
Cloud absolutely didn’t whimper. He made one last lunge to get away from Zack, but Zack just laughed delightedly and picked him up, slinging him over his shoulder. Then he started back to the saloon. Cloud stared at his ass from close range and thought furiously.
He wasn’t sure of the punishment for holding up a saloon. Hanging was for horse thieves. And murderers. What was whipping for? Would they even bother with a trial? Or just string him up right ow?
He thought of thumping on Zack to make him let go, but the other boy was much taller and broader so certainly stronger. He would just wait until, yes, Zack was putting him down and saying something—
Cloud took off as soon as his boots touched the ground. He didn’t know where he was, he just knew he needed to get away. Zack swore then recaptured him within a few steps.
“I ain’t gonna hurt you kid, neither is Seph. He just wants to talk to you—ouch! Don’t try biting me, I’m too tough for that!”
And so Zack held him as firmly as a mother cat carried a kitten by the scuff of the neck and pointed him at the door of the saloon. When Cloud tried to dig in his heels, Zack propelled him through the swinging doors with a little shake.
There was no one there. The beautiful man was gone. Cloud fleetingly wondered if he’d stepped out to gather the rest of the townspeople for the public punishment of his robber. Nah, he looked more like the type of man who would take the law into his own hands.
Cloud broke out in the cold sweat. Zack looked at him closer. “You all right there, fella? You don’t look too good.”
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Cloud said weakly.
Zack pushed him into a chair at a table and went behind the bar. Cloud lay his head on the table and gave up all thoughts of trying to run. His Ma was going to kill him. Oh wait. If he was dead, she wouldn’t be able to. But she’d still come to his grave and yell at him. If she made it without the medicine, oh no, he was gonna—
“Here,” Zack thrust a mug of something at him. Cloud almost threw up right there. “It’s supposed to help if you’re feeling sickly. Angeal taught me.”
Cloud looked at it suspiciously, not wanting to trust anyone after the bartender’s trick. Then he sniffed it and tried a taste. It was good but he didn’t think it was gonna help. “Thanks,” he said, looking up at Zack who was standing close beside him.
Zack had a little grin on his face and he reached out to ruffle Cloud’s hair. Somewhere along the way he’d lost his hat. “Seph ain’t gonna hurt you. He just asked me to bring ya back here.” Zack plopped down in the chair beside him and propped his feet up on the table. “Why don’t ya tell me about your village? You from Nibelheim?”
So Cloud started spilling out the story of the hard winter and the closed-off pass and the coughing sickness that was going around and his ma couldn’t shake. The elders didn’t think he could make it, but he knew he had to try. There just wasn’t enough food to go around. But Cloud had made it through only to find out that the general store wouldn’t give him enough on credit and no medicine at all, and so Cloud thought he had to find another way.
He was morosely recounting the attempted hold-up to Zack who was laughing hysterically when Sephiroth returned. Cloud froze and went silent. Zack wiped tears off his face and beamed at Sephiroth who was surveying them from the doors.
“He’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, Seph,” Zack said.
Sephiroth said, “How many times have I told you to keep your feet off my tables, Zack?” Zack’s feet hit the floor with a thump and Sephiroth turned to Cloud. “I am Sephiroth. This is my saloon. You are?”
“Cloud Strife,” Cloud choked out. “Are you gonna hang me?”
“What? No!” Sephiroth’s expression was the most shocked Zack had ever seen. “I assume you needed the supplies for your family?” When Zack nodded fervently because Cloud was still frozen, Sephiroth said, “Come outside. I did what I could.”
Cloud looked from him to Zack and back again then down at the table. “Mister, I’m real sorry for what I did. I never should’ve tried—”
“Leave it,” Sephiroth commanded and Cloud looked up at him again. “You were obviously desperate, and I’ve been in desperate straits myself. Now, come with me.” He turned and went back through the doors, leaving Cloud to stare at Zack.
“Is he taking me to jail?” Cloud whispered loudly, but Zack only shook his head.
“Come on, kid, Sephiroth doesn’t like to have to say things twice.” Zack helped him with a strong hand on his elbow which Cloud was secretly grateful for because his legs were still limp and shaking.
They almost buckled when he stepped out onto the porch and saw the wagon. It was packed with bags and barrels of foodstuffs and supplies. His own mule was waiting patiently in the harness.
“I don’t understand,” Cloud said to the tall man who stood watching his reaction.
“You needed money for supplies for your village and for your family, did you not? I put these on my credit at the general store, oh, along with,” Sephiroth reached into his pocket for another packet that he held out to Cloud. “The medicine for your ma. Doc Hollander swears by it.”
Cloud just stared at the packet then up into Sephiroth’s face. The open, awed expression on his sweet face made Sephiroth take a deep breath. “I can’t take all this,” Cloud said quietly.
“Sure you can!” Zack slung his arm around Cloud’s neck and almost made him fall over.
“You will take it,” Sephiroth told him. “Consider it a loan. When your ma is well, you should consider bringing her down out of the mountains to Midgar. We have a lot more to offer you. And then you can work off your debt to me.”
Sephiroth didn’t think Cloud had even blinked, although his big, blue eyes were filling with tears. Cloud finally moved to wipe his forearm across his eyes and then he reached out and took the packet of medicine.
“I owe you more than I can ever pay. But I will find a way,” Cloud vowed.
“I’m sure we’ll find ways,” Sephiroth agreed and then gestured to Zack. “Let him go, Zack, so he can be on his way.”
“Thank you. Thank you so much,” Cloud turned to both of them. “I’ll never forget this. I’ll be back and I’ll make it good.”
“I’m sure you will,” Sephiroth said lowly, making Zack stare at him, but Cloud was already hurrying to the wagon’s seat. He waved to the two of them and started the mule on its way.
Zack waved back at him until he was out of sight down the street then he turned on Sephiroth. “You like him! I heard you; you’ve never talked to anyone that way!”
Sephiroth shrugged and turned to the saloon doors. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Zack hooted, “You do! You think he’s the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen!” Sephiroth ignored him but it wasn’t a deterrent anymore. “Wait ‘til I tell Angeal and Gen!”
That made Sephiroth whirl on him. “Don’t you dare,” he narrowed his eyes at Zack. “If you ever want to be welcome in my saloon again, you will not say one word to either of them.”
Zack held up his hands in surrender. “Fine, geez, calm down. I’ll keep yer secret. At least until he comes back.”
Sephiroth sighed and readied himself to get back to work. “Who knows if he ever will come back? I know what he said, but it sounds like his mother has a hold over him. She won’t allow him out of the village, most likely, so we’ll probably never see him again.”
Later Zack would crow that it was the first—and possibly only—time he’d ever known Sephiroth to be wrong. Because after spring had turned to summer, Cloud Strife drove up to Sephiroth’s saloon in the borrowed wagon filled this time with all his and his ma’s belongings to work off his debt as an odd-jobs boy.
Sephiroth idly thought that it was a blessing that Zack wasn’t there that afternoon when Cloud walked into his saloon, his mother in tow. Sephiroth had heard the expression stunned to silence but he didn’t think he’d ever use it about himself. He was in shock and yet somehow overjoyed that the boy was back.
Cloud stood before him, rounded cheeks rosy pink and suspiciously clean, hat off but blond hair wild, and his clothes straighter and neater than before. Taking a longer look, Sephiroth thought he looked a little more nourished now as well.
Then the petite blonde woman beside him elbowed Cloud sharply and he jolted. “Um, hi, I don’t know if you remember me? I was in this spring, and you—”
“Yes,” Sephiroth said wryly, “I remember you very well. And you must be Mrs. Strife.” He held out his hand to the woman then bowed over hers when she extended it.
“Just call me Miz Strife,” she said in an accent that was as charming as Cloud’s. “This here boy is going to apologize to you for that fool stunt he pulled and then he is going to work for you doing whatever you want to make up the debt. And we do thank you for the supplies. You saved our village.”
“You are most welcome,” Sephiroth demurred. “And I accept Cloud’s apology. As I told him before, I well know what it’s like to be desperate. I would have done the same thing.”
“Only better probably,” Cloud said under his breath, and his mother cuffed his ear without even looking.
“Now, Cloud, what do you have to say to Mister Sephiroth?”
“Just Sephiroth, please.”
“Cloud,” his Miz Strife said warningly.
“I’m real sorry, Mister, er, Sephiroth. I shouldn’t’a done what I did, and I swear I’ll never do something that stupid again. Now put me to work doing whatever you want, and I’ll do it. I promise.”
Sephiroth realized that those big glowing eyes peering up at him were going to be his downfall. He had visions of all the ways he wanted to put Cloud to work, but then cleared his throat and looked away to get himself under control.
When he looked back at them, Miz Strife was giving him a narrowed-eyed look. But she didn’t say anything when Sephiroth ushered them to a table and offered them a drink of sassafras tea to wash the dust of travel out of their throats.
Miz Strife told him all about her decision to get out of Nibelheim and get Cloud somewhere that he could have a future without worrying about going hungry every winter. She didn’t have anywhere to stay in Midgar but figured there would be a boardinghouse that would take in a widow and her son. She was a good seamstress and hoped to rustle up work doing that. And Cloud was still growing but she was sure that he would be a good hard worker. Especially with her right there to oversee everything, she stressed.
Sephiroth inclined his head to show that he understand both her meanings, and she seemed satisfied. Sephiroth was still all too aware of the eyes that followed him back to the bar and again to tables as he delivered drinks to other customers. He came back to the bar to find Cloud waiting.
“I’m ready to start now,” Cloud said, but Sephiroth shook his head.
“Go get your ma settled in and come back in a couple days,” Sephiroth said firmly. That would give him some time to figure out what he was going to do with… what work he would have for Cloud.
Of course he was there waiting bright and early when Sephiroth got to the saloon the very next day. He sighed but didn’t say anything other than, “Did you find a place to stay?”
Cloud nodded eagerly. “Ma says thank you for telling her about Miz Gainsborough. She found us a place right behind the livery. It was vacant, and I love horses so I don’t mind helping out there too.”
“How are you going to manage doing so much work?” Sephiroth asked, bemused at his enthusiasm.
“I like to work. Been doin’ it all my life.”
Sephiroth was glad he had to turn to the door because otherwise he just knew he’d look shocked again. With a little shake, he settled himself and turned to Cloud. “Glad to hear it. Let’s start off with you sweeping.”
He had to admit, Cloud was right about being a worker. He did everything Sephiroth commanded without a peep of complaint. After a week of full-time work during the day, Sephiroth had never seen the saloon so clean. Cloud had even dragged in a rickety ladder and perilously cleaned to the very top of the high windows that Sephiroth had never bothered to.
Once the cleaning was done, Sephiroth tried to see how handy Cloud was at fixing some of the odd things around the property. Sephiroth had to show him how from time to time, but the kid was smart. When he was shown something once, he could usually remember for the next time and do it right.
But when everything that Sephiroth could think of was done, he didn’t know what to have Cloud do.
Luckily, or unluckily from his perspective, the rest of the town had gotten to know Cloud and most of them seemed to welcome him as much as Sephiroth did.
First Zack had bounced in the very first morning Cloud was working and all but tackled him in happiness. Sephiroth eventually chased him out, but Zack could never stay away for long and so was in bothering them regularly.
Of course, that meant that Angeal and Genesis found out right away as well. Sephiroth would have told them. Eventually. But Zack had blabbed and so his two oldest friends had come over just as soon as Angeal could close up shop for the day.
They stood at the bar appreciatively watching Cloud scrub the floor on his hands and knees.
“Zack was right,” Angeal admitted. “The kid is unbearably cute.”
Genesis sniffed. “Scrawny. Under-developed. I don’t see what you see in him, Sephiroth.” Then Cloud stood up, stretched and smiled shyly but brightly at them, and Genesis cleared his throat. “Well, he might grow into that ridiculous hair at least.”
Soon Sephiroth ran out of tasks and so begrudgingly let Zack take Cloud to Angeal, with the admonishment to Cloud to not let Zack push him around.
Cloud soon enjoyed helping the blacksmith Angeal. At first his duty mostly involved sitting on a barrel quietly out of the way while Angeal beat on the long, hard steel rods with his shirt off, all sweaty except for the leather apron.
But then Angeal let him help clean up the smithy and even eventually take a turn with the hammer. All the while, his assistant Zack tried to take the opportunity to talk about all the ways Cloud could become a potential outlaw better than his first foray into crime. He also offered hands-on lessons in fighting and wrestling.
Cloud had blushed beet red the first time Zack brought up his felony, but Angeal had just laughed long and hard at the thought of it. He told Cloud to ignore all of Zack’s crazy schemes, but if he ever wanted real lessons in fighting, to let Angeal be his teacher.
Then Zack would throw down what he was working on and attack Angeal who would wrestle and manhandle him back into submission while Cloud laughed and cheered. He did pick up quite a few pointers from them though.
Genesis even demanded use of Cloud for several afternoons to help him move things around the sheriff’s office. Genesis didn’t seem to do much, Cloud thought privately, but when the sheriff was out of town, Genesis did sit in the office reading and dealing with anyone who got drunk and needed thrown in the jail overnight.
The days went by quickly and happily for Cloud, for the first time in his life. His mother was making a go of things and fitting into the town as well.
Then one day Sephiroth was waiting when Cloud showed up at the saloon for his assignment. “We’re doing something different today,” Sephiroth told him and Cloud followed him to the livery. Sephiroth already had his horse and another waiting.
Cloud followed him willingly out of town to a creek bed in the distance, mostly dried up from the summer heat. Sephiroth dismounted and swung his rifle case off the horse. Cloud had an instant of nervousness, but Sephiroth beckoned him.
And then he taught him how to shoot. Cloud had shot varmints for dinner or rodent control, but he’d never had someone show him the right way to do things. When Sephiroth took two gleaming pistols out of another case, Cloud grew even more excited.
Sephiroth spent a long time showing him how to care for the firearms and even gave him a lecture on gun safety.
“Never, ever point a gun at someone or something that you don’t want to kill. Then you won’t ever have an accident. You should only be pointing it at something that you don’t mind killing.” Sephiroth rubbed his thumb over the shining barrel and Cloud thought he suddenly looked a hundred miles away. “And you shouldn’t ever kill, not if there’s any other possible way.”
Cloud nodded and gave Sephiroth a little smile when he finally looked over at him. “I only want to protect Ma. And my friends. And you.” Cloud said to the ground at his feet. He knew it was ridiculous as soon as he blurted it. As if he could ever do anything that Sephiroth couldn’t do ten times better.
But Sephiroth said softly, “Thank you, Cloud. Now, let’s work on your stance again.”
The days spent with Sephiroth whether in his saloon or out in the fields were among Cloud’s favorites. He loved helping Angeal and soaking up all the good natured teasing from the big man and Zack. He even enjoyed listening to Genesis who did almost all the talking when they were together.
He especially loved the evenings when they would all gather in the saloon. If there were no other or few customers, they would all become freer with each other.
Sometimes Genesis would read out of one of the old books he always kept tucked in his pocket. Cloud didn’t always understand the fancy words, but Genesis had beamed when Cloud said, “You sure do have a fine voice.”
“See Sephiroth, the boy has excellent taste,” Genesis preened and rubbed Cloud’s hair like Zack did. They both froze for a second when they realized but then Cloud grinned and Genesis gave him one last pat.
Sephiroth loaned him books too when Cloud shyly admitted he liked reading. Cloud read them aloud to his Ma while she sewed in the evenings. She liked hearing about his work and exploits with the men, and asked questions that Cloud didn’t always understand, especially about Shinra.
That was one topic he learned quickly never to mention. He’d innocently let the name slip one day in the saloon, and Sephiroth had actually dropped the glass he’d been washing. When Cloud brought it up later to Zack, he got a serious look on his face that Cloud had never seen before.
“They all worked for the company, me too. But now we’re here and we never talk about it. Ever,” Zack said, and Cloud respected that.
One night his ma asked him if any of the men was married or widowers. But Cloud only shook his head and said, “I never hear them mention any women. I know Angeal and Genesis live together, and Zack stays there a lot of the time too. And Sephiroth is at Miz Gainsborough’s boardinghouse. I guess they ain’t got time for women.”
His ma just looked at him for a long time before she went back to her sewing. “They always got time for you.”
Cloud shrugged. “I reckon I’m doing an all right job of working for them,” he said.
“Oh Cloudy,” she sighed but she didn’t say anything more.
Sometimes Cloud did privately think about the men and wonder why they were always together but never talked about women. He knew how men were, had heard the men of Nibelheim crudely talking and laughing in the little tavern when they’d had too much to drink.
And he knew what went on between a man and a woman. Ma had even sat him down and given him a stern talking to when they’d moved to Midgar all about the Honeybee Inn. She’d told him a little bit about what a brothel was and then made him vow he’d never go there because it wasn’t fair to the women. They were only doing what they could to survive, like any of them were, but Cloud didn’t have to be one of those who took advantage.
Cloud readily agreed. He was greatly curious about the Honeybee and kinda wanted to poke his head in someday, but he was too busy to think about girls.
Even that nice Aerith who was the daughter of his ma’s friend. Cloud could see she was real pretty, and she was very nice and fun, and he knew that Zack often walked out with her on long evenings while her ma sat on the front porch watching them. But Cloud didn’t feel anything more for her, or even for her friend Tifa who she brought over sometimes when he visited.
But Cloud could sit for hours at night just watching Sephiroth work at his saloon, giving him a hand doing whatever he needed. He’d finally worked up the courage to be able to talk to Sephiroth and not just to ask questions about work.
Sephiroth sometimes even smiled at him and said suggestive things that Cloud didn’t always fully understand. But that was only they were completely alone and only then occasionally. And when he did it, it made Cloud feel … funny. Like there was something itching under his skin.
He didn’t know what to do about it, but he knew that while he liked watching Angeal strip off his shirt at the forge and pour cool water all over himself, and he liked listening to Genesis read Shakespeare, he <i>loved</i> just sitting in the saloon at any time of day being near Sephiroth. Every little smile, every little laugh he could get out of him made Cloud feel like he’d achieved a great success.
Then the day he’d been dreading arrived when he least expected it. He met Sephiroth at the saloon with an easy smile but Sephiroth indicated the horses tied in front.
Cloud brightened even more. “We going shooting today?”
“Yes,” Sephiroth said as he mounted. Cloud’s riding had improved as well, and he could ride beside Sephiroth now without any trouble. Sephiroth even let their horses free to run a little bit, and Cloud whooped at the feeling of the horse galloping away with him.
Sephiroth led him to a quiet place in the foothills that Cloud hadn’t been to before. The trees were thicker there and green, and the river made a little pond that was shaded. Cloud looked forward to going for a swim in the cool water, if Sephiroth allowed it.
He offered to unpack the guns, but Sephiroth shook his head and offered a large pack instead. He led Cloud under the trees and spread out a blanket then set the pack down and opened it. Cloud gaped at the spread of food that Sephiroth provided.
“Wow! Are you that hungry?”
Sephiroth sat down on the blanket and fussed with opening more of the packets of food. “I thought you deserved a day off from work. And you’re a growing boy. You’re always hungry.”
Cloud remained standing and crossed his arms over his chest. “I ain’t always hungry. That’s Zack. And,” his voice went a little quieter as he admitted, “I don’t reckon I’m growing anymore. Ma said I’m 18 now and my pa was a little shorter than me so this is it.”
Cloud wanted to wrap his arms more tightly around himself at the way Sephiroth was looking at him now. “You’re stronger, though,” Sephiroth said quietly. “You’ve gotten broader, put on more muscle.”
Now Cloud willed himself not to blush like he always did when Sephiroth complimented him. He dropped to the blanket when Sephiroth gestured.
They ate in silence for a while until Sephiroth cleared his throat meaningfully.
“You know, Cloud, your bill to me and the general store was paid off quite a while ago. You’re working now for credit. I have the cash for you, from me and Angeal and Genesis,” he said quietly.
Cloud looked up anxiously and felt his stomach drop. Was this it? Was Sephiroth going to make him quit working? Was he going to say he never wanted to see Cloud again? Was Cloud going to have to uproot his ma and make her move just to get away from Sephiroth now that he didn’t want Cloud around?
Sephiroth was saying, “If you want to get another job, we’ll understand. I will understand. But...” Now Sephiroth was fidgeting a little and Cloud had no idea what that meant. “If you want to, I would really like it if you still worked for me. I like having you around.”
The last few words were practically whispered, but Cloud heard, even over the racing beat of his heart in his ears.
“I like having you around too,” he blurted out, and Sephiroth finally looked up at him. “I like you,” Cloud heard himself continue.
Sephiroth smiled at him then, and Cloud’s heart skipped a beat. “I like you, too, Cloud. Ever since you robbed me at gunpoint and threatened my virtue.”
Cloud groaned and hid his face in his hands. He felt Sephiroth’s long fingers start to pry them away. “The only reason I say such things is to make you blush. You are unaccountably adorable when you blush.”
Cloud dropped his hands only because his face felt like it was on fire, but Sephiroth was still holding them. “Cloud, I...feel things for you. Things that I haven’t felt in a very long time.”
“I feel things for you too,” Cloud admitted, now lost in the pale green of Sephiroth’s eyes. “I like being with you more than anything else in the world.”
Sephiroth leaned closer, and Cloud shut his eyes at the smooth feeling of his hair brushing Cloud’s hot cheek. “I would like to kiss you,” Sephiroth whispered.
“Okay,” Cloud agreed before he could think and then Sephiroth’s lips were on his, warm and firm, pressing to Cloud’s lips tenderly. When he pulled back, Cloud let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He opened his eyes to find Sephiroth hadn’t moved. “Do that again,” Cloud ordered, and Sephiroth happily obeyed.
When Cloud got home that day, suspiciously giggly and pink from more than the sun, Miz Strife told him to bring Sephiroth the next night for dinner. She questioned Sephiroth more than any interrogator could have and spelled out exactly what she would do if he ever hurt her baby. After he had vowed to only take care of and cherish Cloud, she relented and gave them her blessing.
And so they lived happily ever after.
Until the day some Turks rode into town.
The end. For real this time.
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Ch. 1
A/N: Yeah hi sorry this took forever to get out.
Prologue
Y/N casually walked down the street as the shops that were beginning to close, the sliding metal grates creaking and screeching as they were slammed into place at the storefronts.
She nodded occasionally at a few friendly faces; this neighborhood may have been part of one of norther California’s biggest cities, but it had a small town feel that Y/N loved.
Y/N saw her reflection in a hardware store window and brushed a few strands of her H/C hair back into place, when her E/C eyes darted over her shoulder noticing something behind her.
A black town car was parked across the street, and in the store window’s reflection, Y/N thought she saw movement inside. She quickly ran the calculations in her head:
Poor neighborhood, expensive car, didn’t match.
Only car parked on the street and the stores are beginning to close, driver probably wasn’t local.
Could be someone from the city here for dinner, but no one was getting out of the car.
Whatever Y/N was adding up in her head didn’t equal anything good. Whether the person or persons in that car were here for her or some other malicious reason, Y/N did not want to be part of it.
She pretended to keep patting her hair in place, then casually strolled into the hardware store.
“Hi, Y/N,” the store owner greeted. His name was Bill and he looked exactly like the kind of man who would own a hardware store: raggedy T-shirt, jeans dotted with holes from wear, and a handkerchief always tied around his neck in case there was something that needed to be spray painted or some sawdust needed to be swept.
“Hi, Bill,” Y/N replied. “You’re not closing up yet are you?”
“Oh I can stay open a few more minutes just for you,” Bill said, winking at her.
Y/N thanked him and strolled over to the shelves. She picked up a box of nails, 4d 1.5 inches, so said the box.
Too short said a voice in Y/N’s head, and she placed them back down. She casually looked over the shelf as though she were checking what was an aisle over and looked out the window.
The car was still there.
If she left through the front door they could easily follow her, but if she asked Bill if she could leave through the back he might get suspicious, maybe make a scene. She had to make him want her to leave out the back.
“Did you hear that Viper and Snake made bail?” Y/N called across the store. Viper and Snake were a couple of local kids who had started robbing neighborhood stores. They were finally arrested after hitting up a bodega.
Bill slammed his hand down on the counter.
“They what now?” Bill boomed, making Y/N jump. “Who the hell in the police department let that happen!”
“I’m not sure,” Y/N replied, carefully picking up a shiny hammer. “That’s just what I heard. My guess is they’ll be coming back to the neighborhood right away.”
Y/N wanted to look up to see his reaction, but knew she had to keep her head down, make sure Bill was focused on the potential threat rather than her.
“Poor Mrs. Diaz,” Y/N continued, casually name-dropping the most recent victim of the brothers’ robbing spree. “I heard she closed up early this afternoon. Didn’t want to be here when they came back.”
Bill swore under his breath and then began patting his pockets.
“You mind, uh, leaving out the back today, Y/N?” Bill asked. “I don’t want to take any chances with those boys out.”
Y/N’s heart fluttered with the same excitement she always felt when a plan followed through perfectly.
“Oh gosh,” she said with forced concern. “You don’t think they’ll come here do you?”
“Not taking any chances,” Bill said with determination as he walked back behind the register. “You all done? I’m ready to go home.”
The 12d, three and a quarter inch a voice in the back of Y/N’s head whispered.
Y/N nodded to herself and grabbed the plastic box of nails the voice indicated.
The titanium hammer the voice whispered again. Y/N grabbed that as well.
“Yup!” she called over the shelves. “Just getting a few things for Mr. Kwon.”
Bill eyed the items suspiciously as Y/N placed them on the counter.
“Your landlord makes you get your own tools?”
Y/N shrugged.
“I try to help out when I can. How much?”
Bill gave Y/N the total and she paid in cash, then he ushered her out the back door, punching in the security alarm code and locking the door. 100177, Y/N noticed. Not that she’d ever rob Bill, her eyes just picked up on these things. Plus, Y/N noticed, the buttons were worn down, making the zero, one and seven almost invisible. Must be his birthday, Y/N thought.
“Well, I’ll be seeing you later Bill. Hope those boys don’t bother you.” Y/N turned to leave but Bill grabbed her arm.
“Hey wait,” he said, firmly holding her forearm. “Do you want me to walk you home? Don’t want a pretty young thing like you getting caught up with Viper and Snake.”
Y/N didn’t need the voice in her head to tell her to say no. Walking with Bill in front of that car outside could draw attention to her. She also didn’t want to walk with him at all.
“No thank you,” Y/N kindly replied, a sickly sweet smile plastered on her face. “I think I can take on a couple of guys who named themselves after reptiles.”
Bill laughed but didn’t let go of her arm.
“How old are you, anyway?” Bill asked.
Lie the voice repeated, and again Y/N didn’t need it to.
“I’ll be 18 in a few months,” Y/N replied, her smile starting to hurt her cheeks. In reality, Y/N just turned 24. That didn’t mean she wanted to hook up with a 40 year old man.
Bill dropped her arm with a sigh.
“Well,” he said “give me a call in a few months, I’ll take you out on a birthday dinner.” He winked at her again and Y/N felt a gross shiver slither up her spine. She laughed it off, making a few empty promises about it, and then turned in the opposite direction and speed walk away.
Slow down advised the voice. Y/N slowed down but still felt gross. She began thinking of different ways she could tell him to kindly fuck off, when the voice in her head started whispering again.
Robbery. Arson. Cut his dick off.
Y/N paused in her walking, took a deep breath, and whispered the magic words that would turn her inner monologue back from hostile to helpful.
“Longing. Seven. Future. Timing.”
She could never feel the voice enter her mind, but she always knew the instant it went away. She felt lighter, but lonelier somehow. Y/N shook her head and continued walking toward her apartment.
Y/N only took a few steps when she felt something prickle on the back of her neck, like someone was watching her. She turned around, quickly scanning the street for the black town car. When she saw the street was empty, she looked up and around her. Something glinted on a roof a couple of streets over, but disappeared when she tried to get a better look.
Alley. Y/N nodded and slipped into a nearby alleyway.
A few blocks away on one of the taller rooftops Bucky was laying down on his stomach, his metal arm holding up long-range binoculars to his face. He was watching the Toimintas, tracking her movements when she had suddenly turned around. Bucky thought that she must have been looking for the Hydra vehicle, which was still sitting outside the hardware store, when she looked up directly at him. Bucky quickly ducked from view, taking the binoculars with him. Had she seen him? How did she know where to look?
“Come in Winter Snowflake.” The comm in his ear crackled loudly and he heard Tony Stark’s voice.
“Winter Snowflake this is the Iron Man, do you copy.”
Bucky took a deep breath and pressed his non-metal hand to his ear.
“I thought my codename was Winter Soldier,” he replied.
“Yeah but Winter Snowflake sounds so much... stupider,” Tony mocked.
“What do you want, Stark?” Bucky demanded. Tony laughed and Bucky heard a blast of air through the mic. He must be in the suit, Bucky thought. Why would he be calling me in his suit?
“Fury wanted me to check in on you buddy. Make sure you were actually working.”
“What makes you think I’m not working?” Bucky argued. He didn’t like being micromanaged, especially for a simple recon and extract job, he’d done dozens of these in his lifetime.
“You haven’t sent any updates or reports. Not even a single picture of the Toimintas. How do we even know you’re working and not just enjoying the California sun?”
Bucky gritted his teeth and started thumbing through the screen on the underside of the binoculars.
“You want proof I’ll give you proof, Stark,” Bucky muttered, spinning a wheel and stabbing buttons on the binoculars.
“There,” Bucky said aggressively. “I just sent Fury a picture from the binoculars.”
“The funny thing about those binoculars, Winter Snowflake,” Tony admonished “is they’re from Stark Industries, so I’m going to take a quick look at that picture, too.”
Bucky rolled his eyes and waited for Tony’s response.
“She’s cute,” Tony finally said. “How did you get her to look directly at the binoculars?”
“Because I’m good at what I do,” Bucky replied harshly. “Now will you let me do my job?”
“Actually, I think I’ll join you on the job,” Tony said and the speeding air noise started to get louder. “Make sure you’re doing it right.”
Bucky rolled his eyes again.
“I don’t need a babysitter, Stark,” Bucky stated flatly.
“Think of it as a supervisor, Winter Snowflake,” Tony chided. “I’ll be there in a an hour. I’m coming from Malibu, do you-?”
Bucky disconnected the line before Tony could finish what he was saying and pulled the bud out of his ear. He’d have to finish his recon before Tony landed, and he’d get that done a lot faster without the Iron Man babbling on in his ear.
Bucky put up his binoculars to find the Toimintas, but she was out of sight. He cursed Tony under his breath and began packing up his gear. Hopefully she’d end up at her house.
Bucky took one last look at the road with the HYDRA vehicle on it, which was still idling in front of the hardware store.
At least with Tony around, someone could keep an eye on HYDRA.
#bucky x reader#Bucky Barnes#Winter Soldier#MCU#MCU fanfiction#MCYou#marvel fanfiction#reader insert#marvel reader insert#The Toimintas
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HummingBird (part 2/?)
Peter Parker X Reader
Summary: readers first official day at school and first crime
word count: 2090
Part One
The first class of my day was pretty uneventful. I had precalculus with Mr. Evans which was fun. Who are you kidding dude you took calculus last summer. It’s not like I was gonna say that? I don’t wanna be that show off kid that knows all of the answers. Yeah well not participating makes you have conversations with yourself so sucks to be you nerd.
Jeez I really was having a conversation with myself. I was that bored with APUSH that I was arguing, with myself. Of course I loved US history, but the whole class made me miss Mr. Star Spangled Banner. Maybe I could just check my phone for any alerts of crime in the city.
“Ms. Carter,” Mr. Jameson said, catching my adrift attention, “Could you tell me about the Maryland Colony?”
I heard a few snickers come from behind me, clearly thinking I didn’t know a thing about history and unaware that Steve used to read history books to me at night instead of story books.
“The Maryland Colony was founded in 1634 by Lord Baltimore. It was to be a place for persecuted Catholics to find refuge, a safe haven. Made as an act of toleration.”
“Very nice Ms. Carter,” he continued. I turned back to find the boy who had laughed at me and gave him a real, genuine smile which really threw him off guard.
The rest of the class went well and before I knew it was lunch time. I was honestly surprised that for the first two classes, no one really thought to introduce me or guide me anywhere and as much as I didn’t need it, I did need to make friends. It was already lunch and I had nowhere to sit, or rather, no one to sit with. I scanned over the cafeteria, looking for a place to sit when I found a relatively empty table.
“Thats a lot of food you’ve got there,” the girl adjacent to me commented, “not like it’s a bad thing. You should be able to eat as much as you’d like.”
“Oh no it’s fine,” I laughed, “I just have a condition.”
“Diabetes?” She asked, probably feeling worse about her comment. She seemed like a nice girl.
“No-no, I just have like,” I paused, thinking about a lie, “A really abnormally high metabolism. If i burn more calories than I eat I pass out.” Well, I guess that was only half a lie. My powers entailed that I needed to consume more sugar than regular so I don’t black out. It wasn’t pretty. “Anyways, I’m Aurelie, but my friends call me Bird. What’s your name?”
“Michelle, and I don’t have any friends” She responded. I was going to say something back but by the time I figured out what to say enough time had passed that a response would just be awkward and sad. Lunch soon ended.
Physics was my next class, I sat next to this kid named Ned. He was pretty cool actually, we were lab partners and I helped him with the worksheets.
“So what school are you transferring from?” He asked, scribbling down some notes.
“Oh, I was homeschooled. Parents thought I ought to be socialized or something.” I responded with a chuckle.
“Like in meangirls?” He asked.
“What?-”
“Nothing.”
My last class of the day was P.E. with that same kid who had made fun of me in APUSH. Apparently his name was flash or something? LAmE. It appears that me totally owning him earlier on in the day wasn’t enough for him and so he decided to try and own me on a physical level as well.
“Twenty bucks that new kid drops out of the pacer before it hits twenty,” he announced, the teacher either not knowing or not caring.
“Four hundred bucks said that the new kid is gonna be the last person still going,” I childed, another genuine smile flashed at him. He and most others burst out in laughter.
“What are you doing?” Ned asked me (He was in this class too.), “this is a mixed class, seniors regularly score over the hundreds.”
“Oi Ned, chill dude. Trust me.” I put my hair up into a ponytail, the kids that had made it a point to beat me were showing real game by doing pushups and sit ups. Some of the girls had began to do stretches too to show off.
“Maybe you should.. Um.. show off too,” he suggested. I shot him a look. “I mean look at them! They’re practically asking for it!”
“And who am I to give those meanies what they want,” I chirped.
“Are you even sure you can do this? Four hundred dollars is a lot of money…” Ned gulped. I only gave him a knowing look.
“The FitnessGram™ Pacer Test is a multistage aerobic capacity test that progressively gets more difficult as it continues. The 20 meter pacer test will begin in 30 seconds. Line up at the start. The running speed starts slowly, but gets faster each minute after you hear this signal. [beep] A single lap should be completed each time you hear this sound. [ding] Remember to run in a straight line, and run as long as possible. The second time you fail to complete a lap before the sound, your test is over. The test will begin on the word start. On your mark, get ready, start.” I began to run to the beat of the weird elevator torture music and one by one people began to drop out. When Ned left (around 23) the group cheered and encouraged me to follow my friend. I gave him a look that said I will avenge you and I hope he got that message. By the time we hit one hundred and thirty two, the last of them had basically dragged themselves off the floor, giving me wicked glares as I lightly jogged across the way, a small smile on my face. Flash had dropped out around one hundred and twenty seven, and I was pretty sure that Ned was recording me. I was pretty sure the teacher was going to turn off the tape but he didn’t and I began to think that he had heard my little bet with Flash.
As the numbers increased the other students got angrier and angrier and eventually the tape stopped. I had ran all 21 levels, all 247 laps.
I walked off the court over to Flash, a cheerful grin on my face. I was sorta out of breath and definitely sweating more than I’d like but hey, it wasn’t that awful.
“Hey Flash” I greeted with a friendly smile. He handed me the four hundred.
“This isn’t over, Carter,” he spat, a grimace on his face as the teacher gave a blind eye to us.
“Hey, it’s okay,” I comforted in a sickly sweet voice, “What really counts, is that you tried! You did your best. Did you break your own record today?” he nodded, “See! There we go. With the right motivation you can do anything.” I booped his nose with the tip of my finger.
With that, I walked over to Ned, handing him the four hundred. “Here you go sir, four hundred dollars.”
“What? I can’t take it from you!” He exclaimed, clumsily trying to give it back.
“Dude, I have a lot of money, I don’t need it. Just use the money to make something cool and then show it to me.” I reassured him.
“A-are you sure?” He asked, still wary of accepting such a large quantity of money.
“Positive.”
-
After school I busted through the doors and down the street as quickly as possible, people looked at me weird because my hair was still wet from my post pacer shower but I didn’t care. I was ready to fite™ some crime. The only other person who was out of school by now was that kid that ned sat with at lunch.
I went into an allyway and began to strip, which was something that probably came out of a bad porno. I put pulled on my suit that Tony had made and hid my backpack in an empty garbage can. The suit matched my alter-ego The Hummingbird™ with its dark iridescent fabric. The fabric was also very lightweight and feather like in texture. I had my own AI built in that I named Orzo. I pushed off the floor and flew up into the sky at high speed, shaking my head like a dog to dry off my hair. Hopefully the local vigilante wouldn’t mind some company here on the streets.
I flew higher into the sky, hoping to get a good scope of whatever was going on. This was my first chance at action since, well, ever. Tony never let me help him whatsoever (though he knows I am fully capable.) He didn’t even let me help him in Germany! He let Spiderman, a vigilante he’d never even met join but not the girl that he practically raised! Not only that, but I didn’t even get to meet him. I’ve only ever heard about him through the news and other media. Anyways sorry I got a little bit heated.
Though I expected New York to be just busting with crime 24/7 it honestly was pretty calm. There wasn’t much to do for a while. Very minor things to do. A couple of people stealing purses, I helped a homeless person move to a different street?? Ralph now lived on 22 and third. By seven o’clock not only had I done nothing that day, but I also hadn’t even encountered the spiderkid! Then, almost like the world was answering my prayer (not saying that I wished for crime and anarchy but I was bored) I heard a crash come from not more than down the block. Fresh crime, crime so fresh that my police tracker app hadn’t even gone off yet. I took flight, zooming across the city, trying to stay out of sight. The, yet darkened, streets were filled with life and pedestrians, some checking to see what the commotion was and many fleeing in the other direction.
I entered the store that was currently being robbed. It looked to be some type of antique jewelry store raided by the average thieves.
“Pals, I don’t think they’re open. Maybe you should come back later,” I said to the men, making them aware of my presence. They were taken aback by my appearance and probably my voice as well. By vibration my vocal chords at a different frequency, I could modify my voice to sound louder and have a similar reverb to that of a hum (at normal human pitch).
“And who are you? Spiderkids protege?” One of them snickered.
“I’d hardly say that,” I seethed bumping my head on the ceiling. I silently cursed myself. When I get excited or really invested into something I begin to hover which isn’t that helpful.
Two of the three men charged at me while the other one tried to grab their belongings and leave. I used my speed to use their strength against them, quickly finishing the job and knocking them out. I grabbed onto one of the feather/scales of my suit and pulled it out which transformed it to a larger, sharp feather which I used to pin them both to the floor. I darted out of the store and into the alleyway that the third thief had escaped.
“You come any closer and I’ll have to stab you!” He bellowed, pointing his knife at me. Wow, dude didn’t even think to bring a gun. I put my hands in the air and began to sob.
“Oh my god, you found my one fear, small knives.” I hung my head claiming defeat.
“Wait really” He asked, a look of genuine surprise on his face. I pulled out another feather and threw it, pinning his sleeve to the wall.
“No,” I chuckled out in disbelief, “anyways, I’ms sure when the cops get here you’ll have had enough time to figure out a reason why you’re stuck in an alleyway with lots of fun jewels in your bag, good day sir.”
I flew back into the sky just to see the one and only spiderkid zooming towards the shop.
“Hey dude! I already got it, you’re good. See ya” I hollered, waving good bye and flying around a bit to ward off any arachnids if I needed to. Maybe I shoulda talked to him?
TAGS: @sushidoesntneedtoknow (comment if you wanna be tagged)
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