#are you kidding me? this is rapid fire and im already dead | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

slutsofren · 3 years

Text

Danger Days Chapter 9: Give ‘em Hell Kid

summary: after taking care of the stragglers, you make way to find Ellie amidst of all the chaos that follows her and you come face to face with a blast from the past

word count: 2,754 im gonna make up for all these short chapters i swear!!

content warnings: blood mention (i mean c'mon y'all know exactly what this fic is), animal death, somebody gets murdered a bit violently

notes: just wanna say a little thank you for all the recent influx of subs/bookmarks/comments/kudos/follows on here and on ao3, y'all warm my heart. also, the next few chapters will deviate from the tlou timeline to make way for some angst :^))))

read on ao3 here / masterlist

Your lungs were burning with each breath. Huffs escaped you. Aches filtered through your body. Running, chasing, fighting. Ellie was in deep shit and you prayed she was alright. Following after her path, you tracked your girl.

It didn’t take much to figure out which way Ellie went, between the very obvious messy shoe prints of the men chasing after her and the hoof-marks. It made finding her all that much easier. You trekked through the slosh of the muddied snow until you came across a striking stain of red. Your steps faltered and you took the sight in, the sight of blood in between all the white and brown that overlooked a small cliff. Stopping dead in your tracks, your breath hitched as you peered over.

A gasp in horror escaped you when you saw the lifeless body of dear Callus. Quickly jumping, you dropped from the ledge he was under and landed on your knees with a harsh ‘oomph’. The pain tingled up to your spine.

Scrambling up to check on Callus, looking for any sign Ellie was hurt only to find none. You brushed the dark hair on the horse, “I’m sorry Callus.” Mentally sending an apology to Cherry too. She was going to be sad when she hears but if anything, she’d take the apology in exacting revenge on his murderers.

Kneeling on the cold ground, you sent a silent wish to the stars, wishing that Callus will be taken care off wherever he is, noting how he was such a good horse, how he will be greatly missed but was certainly loved. He may have been just a horse, but even then, horses were smart and sentient. He knew.

Just as you finished your well-wishes, the horror quickly engulfed your mind. The worry grew for just a moment as you continued on the path, leaving the dear horse behind until you stumbled upon dead body after dead body, all leading in a patch down to a lake then to a little cabin, long since forgotten shops, and up the stairs to some sort of lakeside hotel, anger finally settling in your bones.

You found yourself following a trail of blood, gore, and footsteps, pride warming in your chest. That’s my girl, you silently praised. You drew a knife and a gun, as you approached what looked to be some lakeside market, too many hidey holes to walk through here confidently. Nevertheless, you marched on.

The path led you to an abandoned lodge overlooking the lake but no sign of Ellie, just more dead bodies of those bastards.

It would have been a beautiful sight long ago, in the time before. Now it was an empty and hollow shell of its former self, littered with gore.

Even shuffling as quickly as you could through the main hall of the resort yielded nothing to finding your dear young companion, not as the sun was really setting low. Had that much time passed, you thought worriedly.

You kicked an overturned table and groaned loudly, not giving a shit if somebody heard you. Letting yourself be mad for just a moment before taking a deep breath and exhaling. At this point, you weren’t sure if you’d want to move stealthy, try and make as much noise as possible just to take some of the heat off your girl.

Frustrated still, you left the resort and circled outside to locate another set of footsteps, likely of them chasing after her. It looked almost as if there was a small fucking army chasing her but still, you didn’t spot anybody. Much to your chagrin.

Taking off once more, you cursed as the visibility lowered. The snow was progressively picking up all around you causing some of the footsteps to slowly disappear.

It was swirling around in a thick blanket in the air, covering the footsteps you had been following. It felt like you were running against the clock and you took off running, focused on the remaining trail until you heard it.

Loud and metallic. A bell. Faint but there. A city center with a tolling bell possibly?

You didn't think twice about changing your direction and moving faster through the storm.

Motivated even more so, you continued on this path, following the chime until you came into view of a cheap haphazardly thrown together defense wall. Ducking behind a nearby structure, you looked on, assessing it as best you could with the little visibility you had.

Faintly, you could make out concrete walls with some barbaric barbed wire thrown lazily against it, many many weaknesses here and there. Most importantly, you noticed there was nobody manning the walls.

You ran and ducked every so often, listening for voices but finding none. Instead, you followed the bloodied trail Ellie left behind her. It was almost like a taunt to the others in this community, or maybe even a gumdrop-like trail for you, screaming ‘come find me’. Whatever it was, only a mark of design by the tough kid wanting nothing but to simply stay alive.

Pocketing your weapons, you took a few steps back then ran.

It was almost too easy to just jump the fence but you did, after hesitating ever so slightly. Your breaths were now heavy huffs, your lungs were cursing you to stop but you refused to, not when Ellie was in danger.

Then, arming yourself with your knives you tried to make your way through the town as stealthy as possible. Only taking out whoever was in your path but aiming not to make a spectacle before you could locate Ellie within this town.

Every time you took down one of those gruesome bastards, you didn’t dare to stop and search them. Your only goal was to find Ellie. You could hear the men talking about her and how she got away, sparking pride within you once more as you took off, following the chaos she left in her wake. Noting how some of the bodies were still warm, their leaked blood still sticky.

Turning the corner of a mechanics garage, a loud thunderous snap echoed through the area.

Startled, you pulled back into a crouch and watched as a large fire erupted in the distance. That spark of hope igniting as bright as the fire, signaling Ellie fighting back like hell.

“Shit,” you sighed trying to catch your breath. You rose to your feet and took off faster now, headed towards the explosion.

Off through the thick sheet of snow, you could faintly make out a large sign above a dinner, displaying the name Todd’s across it. You could hear somebody yelling from inside and aimed for it, the fire barely catching your attention.

Time was running against you, as it always did. The fire grew hotter, the building more dangerous. These were the least of your worries.

You were beyond frustrated as you circled the building, aside from the very obvious and intentional door being lit on fire that was growing at a rapid pace, there were no other entrances you could see aside from a dozen unbroken windows.

It took a couple tries to find an entrance that was viable, feeling like you were running out of time as the male voice from inside grew louder, as you could hear bullets fly just as the man was yelling. Thankfully you did find a cracked window.

Judging by the amount of noise already happening inside and assessing the risk, you figured breaking it wouldn’t alert anybody so you did just that and crawled through, doing your best not to scrape your knees.

Gaining your footing, you looked around and saw you were in some sort of kitchen for the diner. There were large stainless steel surfaces, looking moderately clean. That’s not what got your attention, but the screaming match happening in the dining area.

It took you a minute but you got close to the ground, snapping to the corner as to not give away your position, not as you saw a large man with a beard towering over a small figure- Ellie.

Your brows furrowed in anger as you ran, planning on tackling this man but he was knocked over to the side as Ellie wacked at him endlessly with a machete, hacking him to death. Overkill.

One, two, three. Each swing she grew more and more violent,

Yelling for her to stop, she continued her attack, until you grabbed her against her back, holding her close to stop her. She tried to fight against you, almost throwing you to the ground. “I got you, sweetheart, I got you.” Petting her hair, trying to calm her down, she recognized your voice and she slumped in your arms.

You were exhausted, the adrenaline slowly leaving your blood gave way to the roaring pain in your lungs and muscles. Surely you’d be sore for the coming days. Even so, the pain would have been nothing next to losing either Joel or Ellie.

The two of you stayed like that, holed up in a grimey embrace for a few moments. You repeatedly ran your fingers through her tangled up brown hair as she hiccupped the last of her sobs into your coat. The only sounds permeating the moment were of Ellie and the fire.

Fuck. The fire.

Just as you realized the predicament the two of you were in, the blackened smoke scratched and irritated your eyes, throat, and lungs. It was suffocating you and doing worse to Ellie,

If it weren’t for the raging blaze that was spreading, you would have left much sooner. “Sweetheart, I think it’s time to go.”

Ellie didn’t respond and you were about to repeat yourself until you heard heavy footfalls behind you. Moving the distraught and distracted teen slightly, you drew one of your guns and aimed, about to shoot but were stopped when you took notice of just who was standing there, palms up in defense.

Joel.

Joel was alive, right there.

Ellie recognized him before you could even register what was happening. She jumped out of your arms into his, babbling about David and crying once more. He calmed her, mumbling “Oh, baby girl… It’s okay, it’s okay.”

You watched from the floor as he tried to wipe the blood from her tear stained cheeks, barely keeping your own shit together.

“C’mon,” he said, not looking at you, “let’s get outta here.”

You rose from your haunches, swaying just a little at the inner emotional whirlwind you were facing mixed on top of the physical toll you were feeling. You watched as Joel put his arm around Ellie, walking her out the way he came in. Both of them were limping slightly. Following the two of them, you kicked the dead man just once as Joel led you both out of the burning building to your horse, Whiskey.

He turned around to say something but cut himself off, taking in the sight of you. “Shit, Are you okay?”

You followed his gaze to where your clothes were coated in a disastrous mixture of blood, dirt, and stars know what else. “It’s not mine.”

He looked like he wanted to look you over but he focused on Ellie instead, giving her a helping hand onto the horse. Joel gestured for you to get on behind her but you shook him off, “No. I’ll meet you back at the house.”

“If you don’t get on the goddamned-,” he began to argue but you shut him down.

“I’m not going to fuckin’ argue with you right now.” You checked over your horse, noticing how Joel didn’t bring anything then approached Ellie, “Hey, sweetheart. Think you can handle leading Whiskey and Joel back to the house?”

She wiped away her tears and nodded, “I think so.”

“Good. I’ll see you there soon.”

Joel opened his mouth to counter you but you stood up to him, on your toes. You had grabbed his jacket and pulled him close, getting in his face. “You take our girl back to the fuckin’ house and you make sure neither you nor her go off the rails or so help me, I will finish what that rebar started and end you. Got it?”

You were tired, you were angry, you were relieved. But most of all, you were pissed the fuck off. Not necessarily at him but at, well, at everything. Being this troupe’s sole caretaker for the past few weeks was taking its toll.

Just as you got into his face, he got into yours. At only a hair's breadth away he threatened you all the same, “You do not get to be angry with me, you do not get to push me around, got it?”

His brown eyes bore into yours, you could see he was more exhausted than anything but you were not going to let him be the judge of what happens next. “Fuck you, Joel Miller. We saved your life, hell, I saved your life. You owe me. Now you’re going to get on that fucking horse with Ellie and you are going to the safe house and we are leaving this goddamned shithole. Together. In one piece.”

“Please, Joel, let’s get out of here,” Ellie’s weak voice interrupted.

The near-dyin’ old bastard opened his mouth to counter you again but decided against it. Most likely for Ellie’s sake.

Joel leans close to you and whispers a threat in your ear, “If you’re not back by nightfall, we’ll leave without you.”

“I don’t doubt it,” you snap.

He takes a half step back, his tired brown eyes meeting yours. For a flash you think he wants to apologize but he doesn’t, his pride wouldn’t let him anyways. This was the game the two of you have played all these months. This push-and-pull bullshit. It was tiresome in situations like these, the dire need of survival, but during those blissful moments of reprieve, it brought you joy.

Joel’s heavy footfalls penetrated the tense air even as he saddled up in front of Ellie. He calls your name and in his roundabout way, bargains with you. “Come back alive.”

Before you could even answer or reply, he’s off with a huff. Ellie strapped closely behind him.

Watching them go, you ducked and retraced your steps in the heavy and blinding snow. The storm hadn’t let up and likely wouldn’t any time soon. It worked well into your favor for now.

The journey back wasn’t as arduous or as dramatic as the way forward but you made it back to the safe house without incident. The whole time your mind juggled between the mixed emotions of Joel. Gratitude he was alive, joy that he was walking and talking, anger that he was walking and talking and not resting.

There was just a lot happening all at once. It’s why you wanted to be alone for the time being. Too many emotions swirled in you, too many thoughts, too much of everything. The bitter cold nipping at your fingertips helped, kept you grounded.

At least until you heard the low grumbling of Joel coaxing Ellie back to the land of the living, much as you both did the same to him these past few weeks. His voice trailed up the basement and didn’t stop as your steps echoed through the stairwell.

When you stopped at the final landing did you look up. He was holding her close as she cried, she still hadn’t stopped. His hands, bruised and bloodied from stars know what, coaxed themselves through her messy hair. The sight of them both covered in other people’s blood hurt you in ways that no wound could ever compare to.

He was whispering nothings to her, praises for her fighting, echoing words of ‘shh, it’s okay’, repeatedly in a low soft voice. You came close to the two of them sitting on the lone mattress, “Hey, sweetheart, I’m back.”

Joel looked up at you again, looking over you. Taking in the sight of you now. He gave you a tense nod as Ellie reached around for your hand and squeezed it. Once she let you go you brushed her hair from her face and slowly stood.

“I’m going to pack up everything and we’re going to leave here, put this shit behind us.”

The two of them said nothing but Joel caught your eye and silently, you both came to an agreement. Whatever bullshit you two had, when it came to Ellie, she came first.

Isn’t that what family is for?

80 notes · View notes

aries-writingblog · 3 years

Text

Atlas (5)

Summary: After years of being imprisoned on the Raft, Tony negotiates freedom for his sister Tessa. When she’s free- so is her past, and it will never stop hunting her.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC(Stark)

Chapter Word count: 383

Warnings: PTSD (subtle ish), trauma, torture (in later parts), suicidal behaviors and thoughts, mentions of death, character death, injury, violence, angst, and a lil bit of fluff in there

Disclaimer: Atlas is my own, original work with characters belonging to Marvel (except Tessa and Dr. Clifton). Plagiarism is not cool kids.

A/N: this is my first work Im posting to this platform and I’m really excited and nervous about it. Hope you enjoy- constructive criticism is always helpful as well!!

Dr. Clifton watched from his perch- waiting for the Avengers to fall directly into the trap he’d laid. The whole plan went off with a hitch, he was delighted to see his toy out of her box once again. After hearing about how her freedom was negotiated, he quickly began a plan to lure her to him. Everyone played their parts so well- he forgot it wasn’t even scripted.

“Williams!” He snapped, watching the woman fire a shot into a man’s kneecap before landing a roundhouse kick to his jaw. The man scrambled forward, standing at attention. “Make sure cell number seven in secure... when we have her, I want to be able to begin work immediately.”

“Yes, sir.” He quickly moved to do as ordered. Clifton smiled once more, seeing a well balanced flame appear on the screen.

“Excellent...”

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Shit- they keep coming!” Bucky exclaimed, holding a hand up to catch the magazine clip Tessa had thrown to him. He changed clips, firing another round of rapid shots at the men. “Have you gotten your comm unit back online yet?”

“No- I don’t think we will. We’re pinned down and they have no clue we don’t have backup!” Tessa explained, cursing as her gun jammed. She threw it down and ducked behind the crates beside Bucky. “I’m out of extra clips too- I’m down to my knives and this is still a gun fight.”

Bucky didn’t want to admit it but he didn’t see this ending well. He was on his last few bullets and there was a steady stream of men coming from the hallway ahead. The whole thing had been a trap- he knew it had to be. What the trap was set for- he wasn’t sure, he just knew he had to have Tessa’s back.

“If the other levels are overrun like this, they may have retreated.” Tessa admitted, looking to Bucky. “I can’t see a way out though. We’re trapped.”

“I’m aware.” He grumbled, crouching down as he fired his last bullet. He looked to Tessa, meeting her eyes. They were about to have trouble. “We’re gonna have to fight. If we can get back into the hallway, we can find a way back out but right now we’re at a dead end. I need you to use your powers.” Tessa blanched at the idea.

“I don’t think it’s safe.” She admitted, tugging at her vest. Bucky took her shoulders, holding her still. She flinched, eyes shooting back up to his.

“Listen to me- I’m going to be okay. Even if you set my clothes on fire again, I’ll deal. I was taught stop, drop, and roll.” He teased, beginning to hear footsteps again. “I believe in you. Just remember you’re in control. You can do this.”

Tessa knew it was a bad time. Surrounded and alone, it wasn’t a good time for a pep talk and it certainly wasn’t a good time for feelings. But looking at Bucky, truly listening to his words, she couldn’t stop herself. She threw caution to the wind and grabbed his face with both hands, smashing her lips to his. He let a surprised grunt out as she held him close, molding their faces together. His hands squeezed her shoulders and she felt... right. She hadn’t felt this normal since high school.

“Right...” Tessa muttered, pulling apart and standing up. She shook her shoulders out as she psyched herself up. “I’m in control. I have the control.” Then, she leapt out of their hiding place, hands out to her side, white hot flames pouring from them.

As a gun barrel was lifted to her chest, she took hold of the metal, melting it and jamming it backwards into the man’s face. She shoved him back into another soldier, knocking them both to the ground. Tessa managed to land a kick to the chest of a man who was close range, then swinging him by the arm into the pile of men she was creating.

Meanwhile, Bucky was still knelt behind the crates, the heat of her lips still lingering on his. Finally, he took a deep breath and allowed the grin to take over his face. She kissed him. She made the first move. He was so proud in that moment that the first bullet that nicked the crates didn’t even register on his radar. The second, however, brought him spiraling back to his reality of gunfire and actual fire, dancing along the clothes of the men Tessa had already taken down.

He leapt into the fight alongside her, helping push their way through the swarm and finally taking the last one down. That’s when Bucky turned to Tessa and grabbed her waist, yanking her body to his, craving that addictive taste. He rested a hand on her jaw, angling her lips to his and pressing her to him. He tried to convey everything he felt for her into that kiss. He hoped his message got through to her. When they pulled apart, he rested his forehead against hers.

“I’m sorry I pushed you away.” Tessa apologized, letting her hand run up his arm and rest against his chest, where her dog tags sat. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“You could never hurt me.” He promised, leaving a lingering kiss to her forehead before backing away. “We can figure it all out later- we just need to get the hell out of here right now.”

“That, I can agree with.” Tessa nodded, quickly searching one of the fallen men for a handgun. She gave one to Bucky and kept one herself, checking the clip. “Let’s move out.”

He nodded and stayed glued to her side as they reentered the hallway. Only to find several rows of armed men on either side- weapons leveled at their chests. Bucky cursed softly, biting his tongue. They’d been played. A loud clapping broke through the silence as the men closed ranks, opening only slightly to let a man walk into the ring. He heard Tessa whimper beside him, her whole body going stiff. Her gun dipped, her arms going numb.

“Well, well...” Dr. Clifton gave her a sickening smile. “That was quite the show. I’m glad to see you putting those talents to good use, Atlas. I was beginning to think you resented my gifts.”

Tessa didn’t respond and Bucky didn’t know what to do. They were surrounded and alone, hilariously outgunned. Dr. Clifton began circling the pair, inspecting them.

“What do you want?” Tessa’s voice was shaky but she was beginning to overcome her shock, her steel coming back slowly. Clifton took a moment, humming as he continued his inspection. Bucky shifted slightly to cover Tessa’s body with his own- the look in the doctor’s eyes too wild to be contained. Clifton took notice.

“My darling phoenix, I only want to see you thrive...” he stopped his pacing and stared at her. “You were my best project- the top of the class, my muse... such a pity you misbehaved. Bad little girls always get time outs.” He pouted at her before a smirk pulled at his lips. “But here you are- and you brought a friend. My, my, you’re on track to being on top again.”

“I’ll never be anything to you except your worst nightmare.” Tessa snapped, holding a hand out and engulfing it in flames. That’s when she felt a prick in her neck. It felt like she’d been doused in cold water- her limbs felt heavier and her eyes started to close before she even hit the floor.

“No, my dear...” Clifton’s face appeared above her. “You will be magnificent once more.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m not leaving my sister here.” Tony argued, already beginning to suit up again. Steve sighed, and stepped in front of him.

“We don’t have a choice right now, Tony. You think I want to leave either of them here?” Steve snapped. “We just have to hope they can make the rendezvous point. We have to hope they’re alright.”

After taking care of the first few levels, both Steve and Tony realized the comm units went down. They found each other and then the rest of the team, save Bucky and Tessa. Then, soldiers began pouring out of the buildings, almost surrounding them until they retreated to the quinjet, forced to take off. Leaving two members behind. Of course, the team had coordinates in place as a rendezvous in case they were separated. Today was one of the days they had to be used. Tony clenched his jaw, looking Steve directly in his eyes.

“If something happens in there and Tessa... if anything happens to her, it’s on you.” Tony shoved past him, colliding shoulders with the brick wall of a super soldier. Steve exhaled sharply, feeling that anxiety begin to eat at his gut. He didn’t want to leave them, he was taught no man left behind. And he left two. But they were tough. Tessa and Bucky could handle themselves. He had to believe in their combined strength. He had to believe he made the right call- for everyone’s sakes.

#james barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x oc #bucky x oc

4 notes · View notes

thorsstorms · 4 years

Text

Abroad Pt. 19

Summary: Being the Hemsworth Kids’ Nanny, you were vowed to keep it strictly professional for their sake, but do the stolen glances go unnoticed between you both?

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: y’all know I’m a bitch for angst by now right?

A/N: @hildehuffles this ones for you. ALSO. THE YOUTUBE CHANNEL IM TALKING ABOUT IS YES THEORY. I was in Venice a couple weeks ago, and felt like adding in a little get away like I had done. I told no one I was going and literately hopped on a plane with an Airbnb secured. #SeekDiscomfort also one of the best trips to LA I had ever taken. 10/10 recommend.

Masterlist

Your eyes were glued to the generously sized television screen mounted on the wall, holding the flimsy bottle of water tight in your hands. The conversation took a swift turn with only a sentence spoken and it was the two of you dressed at the premier that was painting the background. You knew she was only doing this to tease him, and the sly comments he made in turn settled your nerves.

“So Chris… Who? Who‘s that?” His eyes were drawn to the monitor, not startled at all by her outburst but calm, with a telltale pink tint creeping up and a squinty eyed smile trying to stay buried.

The crowd whoops in retaliation.

He stayed silent a moment more, staring at the monitor, thinking of a way to answer until the crowd calms down. The comedian looks mischievous, obviously taking pride in his suffering though she knows exactly who you are now. The crowd doesn’t need to know that detail. She only means to tease, it’s who she was!

He folds his hands, rubbing them together before simply saying, “I have never seen that woman in my life.” Obviously joking.

“Oh come on!” she pushed, glowing eyes with a smile stretching across her cheeks.

“Yea, yea. That is my girly-friend, you could say. It’s-It’s weird to say that because I feel like she’s more than just a girlfriend, you know?” He glances again back at the large picture behind him before running a hand down the side of his face, focusing back forwards. He knows you are just watching the screen, glued to the screen at that, in the green room. He didn't know what you were thinking! It could go one of two ways in his mind. Absolutely silently losing your mind or laughing in retaliation to his discomfort of not knowing what to say. Hopefully the latter.

“Oh! I know.” She jokes, full on laughing at him while he smirks but stares daggers playfully. She knows you were more than just a girlfriend in his mind now, but how could he resist the shot of you meeting and hugging Ellen Degeneres and not stick the ring up and snap a photo of the moment while you were faced away? She was a trustworthy person, or so he hoped. Not proven wrong so far.

“Okay, Okay,” she settles herself. “So tell me, where did you find her?” She was keen to the details.

“Uhh- The internet,” he says without missing a beat. You almost choke on your own spit at his fast response, not knowing whether to laugh or crawl into a hole. But the crowd loved it, laughing. He sure got a kick out of the response, thinking he, himself, was funny. Loser.

“You are joking.” Ellen says, dead panning him.

“No, no really. My, uh, my manager found her for me.” He continues on, deceiving the crowd. Depriving them of the whole truth.

“Oh my god, Chris,” you mutter to yourself in the quiet room. Ellen got a kick out of that even more, stopping him from continuing down this road. He obviously was not going to give straight forward answers.

“Okay, okay.” She switches to a different question. “So…” She dragged out for an effect. Maybe just to make him squirm.

“Oh no,” he mumbled. She just had a look, a look that told that she had so many wrong questions under her sleeve.

“You filming something Chris?” The crowd slowly grew to giggle when he didn’t answer. Just stared her down trying not to react.

“Do you have, like, anything I can answer?!” He burst with a chuckle, wiping his palms on his thighs. “I’m just in town, and agreed to come see you and you treat me like this!” His smile was bright while she muttered apologies, laughing at his distress.

The interview eventually calmed down, them playing a rapid fire game afterwards. You finally settle into the couch to watch the interactions.

That was so not as bad as it could have been. He knew what he was doing during interviews anyway, or you had hoped.

You slept in the next morning, only waking to acknowledge that he was leaving for the day. This was a free day to yourself and sleeping in as long as you wanted seemed like the best way to start.

He left you with a mere kiss on the nose before he trudged out the door. The night before was yet another dismissal and it left you flustered and annoyed as all get out, so the day to yourself was the best present around.

Regardless of how much you thought you wanted a calm day, you were texting him by noon, telling him you were bored. By the time he replied, a mere 45 minutes later you were already sucked into YouTube. You found a new channel that piqued your interest and were easily four videos in.

“Sorry princess. Come with me tomorrow?”

You read the preview and sighed, ignoring it for the moment and pressed play on the video again. These guys in the videos were entertaining... inspiring, even.

By the time the fifth video started, their names were easily remembered. What sparked interest even more was the fact that they are based out of Venice Beach, a mere 45 minute drive through LA, on a good day at least.

The video of them walking the sidewalks interviewing strangers that were bold enough to go on an adventure made you want to feel the same sun they were obviously surrounded in. The couch had been your home for the last hour, a window open to let in some light, shining gold streaks through the room, but it wasn't enough.

The rules that plagued yourself were on a repeat in your head as you clicked on another video, then another, and another. You were not supposed to be spending too much time staring at a screen. You weren't supposed to drive, or go out on your own because you are still healing. You're not supposed to be in such sunny areas it could hurt your eyes still. Don't do this, don't do that.

It is suffocating. Infuriating that the list of long don'ts probably repeats through Chris’s head like a mantra, that's why he won't touch you. That's why he won't let you touch him.

Anger slowly flowed through your mind as you started to lose focus on the video playing. You closed the app and opened google maps, staring at the words ‘Venice Beach’ in correlation to where you were stuck inside, across the city. It was like torturing yourself. A silent battle of wanting to just go, go and then think about it later.

You slowly rolled your shoulders back as you sat up on the cushions of the couch that were not as comfy as you had hoped. The time on the lock screen taunted back at you. You could go and make it back in enough time to be home before Chris got back. You scoffed at the thought. He wouldn't be happy, but you were an adult. A very capable adult who can make their own choices. Staying in your bubble of Byron almost makes you forget your own sense of independence. He doesn't get to decide what you can and can't do.

The bathroom light shone a tad brighter than the natural lighting in the living room, eyes squinting quickly at the flush. You moved to the sink to wash your face, pulled a hair tie to braid your hair, and picked out some clothes.

Double checking for your wallet and phone in your purse brought on second thoughts. You never answered his text. He probably wouldn't notice for a while anyway. You pushed away the small ache of neglect that settled inside, it wasn't his fault. He was working. It’s when he wasn't working, that's when brush offs hurt the most.

Checking your makeup again in the mirror to make sure the covering was adequate over the blueing bruises, you made your way out, pulling the door behind you after ordering an Uber to Venice.

Los Angeles wasn't all the glitz and glam that movies made it out to be. You learned that pretty fast last time you all had been here, with the kids. Having a temporary place in Burbank meant crossing the city often, though a quick commute for Chris. The studios were not but a 6 minute drive away. Ideal, yes. But fun, no.

The drive seemed quick, the driver was slightly chattier than what you thought was normal but you were not complaining. You may have just had a week with more adult action than you’d had in the last few months combined but you were never one to be impolite. You didn't say much, only that you've never visited Venice before and didn't know why, so you just said ‘why not?’.

When the vehicle came to a stop and a moment of regret flushed forward, but you pushed it back quick. Going by yourself was not the worst thing in the world. How else were you going to be able to see what you wanted to see? You didn't know anybody here in L.A. other than Chris. It wasn't like you could call Miley up and ask her to stroll around town with you. Well, you could. But - not like this.

You adjusted your own sunglasses as you walked the last block towards the water. The art on the walls were bright and gave off calm vibes. A skateboard whizzed past you quickly, catching you off guard. You sidestepped to the right of the sidewalk and watched him ride past you and others, closer towards the shops. Clutching your bag closer to your body, you continued, rounding the corner to what was familiar from the videos you had been so enamoured with.

Towering palm trees. Bikes, so many bikes. So many skateboards. You looked around a moment after making sure you were out of the walk way, admiring the ease of the people around. The skatepark up on the hill and the art lining the sidewalks it was all what you hoped to see from the video.

The shops were cute, making your way through a few. So many surf shops and all you could think about was guilt that Chris didn't know you left the apartment. Everything reminds you of him. A fire fight started in your brain - consisting of respect you had for having a partner versus having a sense of independency. You didn't have to disclose every footstep, you never expected him to, at least.

The spiral of your thoughts continued as you strolled across the sidewalks, leaving behind the shops. You took a seat in the grass overlooking the busy basketball courts and pulled your phone out. Ignoring the warmth on your shoulders from the sun, you checked for any notifications and were met with none.

Did you have a right to feel the way you were feeling at the moment?

Was it selfish? Was it hormones? Forget that.

But were you chalking it up to be something more, just a spiral of thoughts when he wasn't there to discredit them? Your clouds caused a moment of zoning out as you pondered.

You both spent all day yesterday together, he even made you dinner, working in the kitchen with music playing while you watched him from the couch. Admiring and happy to see him. A glint in your eyes that stayed, unsubdued. A girl can't help but be worked up when she had gone so long without him, pregnancy hormones were no help to the cause. All you wanted was for him to acknowledge what you had been repeatedly showing off.

You were horny.

There was no other way to put it. And a healing head injury was not going to magically make the want disappear, even if it seemed to have made the want disappear from himself. The thought made your stomach clench, remembering when he turned around and caught you staring at him with lustful, shameless eyes.

He knew the look. He knew it very well. But what happened when his eyes met you made your blood run cold, your feet quickly allowing you to leave the room so the hitch in your breath wasn't caught by his ears.

He had looked away from your gaze with a sigh, turning his back to you. Another word didn't leave his mouth until he had come to find you in the bedroom to tell you that dinner was ready. He stopped himself from pushing open the door when he heard you talking. The sadness in your voice, clouded with tears as you spoke to whoever was on the other line.

“We had such a good day, I had such a good day,” you corrected. “But, but I just-” you stopped a moment, taking in a shaking breath to gather your thoughts. He looked at his feet, bowing his head when the upset nature of the phone call settled in his mind.

“I just miss him so much Bri, and I feel like he just doesn't see me. I feel -”

Your speech was cut off by yelling through the line of the phone. You sucked in a breath and it came out in a shudder, trying to calm your own emotions. He didn't know what she was saying but it silenced you. He felt heavy with guilt that he was the source of your anguish. He needed to stop being weak. He was scared to hurt you but here he was, causing you pain repeatedly until he was the source of your tears. He didn't know if you were crying or not, but he could feel the pain and confusion behind your words.

You started to wrap up the call. A sting of “I know”s and “Okay”s spilled off your tongue and he made his way back to the kitchen, hoping you wouldn't feel upset if you knew that he was listening.

He stood plating the stir fry when you made your way back into the room with a grim smile, peaking at him and muttering ‘thank you’.

You remembered how he led you to the couch and played a random movie on the TV while you ate. He pulled you close to him when you both cleared you plates. The rush that had flooded through you made you blush. You sat there snuggled to him for almost an hour before you both headed to bed and he didn't touch you again. He said all the right things, but words were hard at having such a meaning when his actions were iffy.

“I love you.”

“I'm glad you're here with me.”

“I missed you.”

“I love you, so much,” he would say with a rub on your arm.

A small kiss to your temple and you rolled on your side away from him, closing your eyes. Unbeknownst to you, he felt a bit of his heart break away when he watched you reach for the blankets and tug them to your shoulders, seeking them out for warmth rather than himself.

The empty notification screen mocked you, clicking the phone off once again. You looked up at your surroundings to admire the feel. It was busy, but not uncomfortably so. The skatepark behind you was bustling, and so were the basketball courts in front of you. But right there, where the grass was a soft green and you leaned against the raised plateau behind you, it was serene. Fairly quiet for the crowd around, but it was as if the sound didn't carry. The seagulls above were gliding, and the faint clicks of skate wheels hitting the ground blurred into the background noise of music coming from the shops.

It was a good spot to think. Something you have alway done far too much of.

The buzz in your hand had you snaping your head towards it, a dull ache spreading down your neck at the swift movement. The message had you jumping to your feet, making your way to the corner where you were dropped off.

“Almost done here. In the mood to go out for food?”

He beat you home, only by a minute though it seemed. As you were stepping out of the car and thanking the driver, your phone started ringing. You declined, tossing it into the mess of a purse you had as you made your way inside to the elevators, favoring talking to him in person instead.

The ride up seemed to go by faster than any other time before, allowing your nerves to revv in the light of Chris possibly being upset. The padding of your shoes made it to the door, your hand pushing it open.

His eyes met yours when the door opened and unsurprisingly the first words out of his mouth were, “where were you?”

“I just needed to get out for a bit,” you acknowledged lightly, setting your purse on the counter tops. You didn't meet his eyes, turning your back and digging for your phone. His voice was laced with curiosity, not expecting you to not be there when he arrived, even if you were only off by a mere minute or two.

“Where did you go?” He asked, keeping his feet planted. You turn to see him. He truly had just gotten here, a bag still thrown over his shoulder and shoes still on his feet. His brows furrowed as you met his eyes and then diverted from them again, absentmindedly rubbing your temple where bruises were covered.

“I went to Venice Beach, I haven't been there before and I just want to walk aro-”

“How did you get to Venice? Did you go by yourself?” He worried on with a malice tone. Your ears were growing red as he spoke.

“Yes I went by myself, who else would I have gone with?” You hissed at him. You could already feel your hands shaking. You knew you had worked yourself up today while you were out and were just waiting for the point to start a fight. Still completely confused on whether he deserved it or not, but you were beyond frustrated.

“I don't know anybody here! I have one friend who I barely see! Yes! I went by myself. I needed to be around people. I'm lonely!” You raised your voice at him. He stepped towards you with his hands out when your defense shot up. You crossed your arms around yourself protectively, delivering a sign of needing to be comforted, even if by your own arms.

“I'm sick of being by myself!” You told him as he grew closer, watching with pained eyes as you laid it out for him. “I just - God I don’t know. I just - I needed to get out and do something.”

“Hey,” he calmed. “Im right here.”

“No, Chris!” You pushed his outstretched hands away from your own. “You're not.” You took a deep breath while he stood speechless, catching an eyeful of the hurt you were carrying on your shoulders.

“Princess,” he pleaded, waiting for you to take a look at him but your eyes were wandering to any surface but his.You couldn't get the right words out to say. It had always been like this when you grew frustrated, your own vocabulary runs from your thoughts. You grew silent as a tear finally fell from your eyes but was quickly wiped away by his own fingers. When you didn't protest his touch he took that as a good sign. He muttered your name in surrender.

“What do you want me to do?” He watched for a reaction. “Tell me what I can do.” He was at a loss. Spending more time apart than together was a strain that was eerily familiar and it pressed down on him so hard he was ready to beg for understanding. He wanted to understand what he could do to make this better but what you said next caught him off guard, rendering him silent and confused.

“Do you love me?”

His eyes burned at the yearning of your question. The watery eyes that flicked to his in search of an answer. His lips were dropped open at the turn of events this evening had taken. He thought about this evening all day. He was going to let you choose the place for dinner and shower you with dessert, with love, and affection to make up for what he had overheard. He wanted to show you the beautiful diamond that had your name written all over it and ask a very important question.

He was too quiet, mulling over how he had gotten to this point while you stood with uncertainty, continuing on your quest of finding answers.

“I know I'm starting to look different,” your head bowed at the revelation that he might not like what he sees. “And we are so far apart alot, but I'm still me.”

He spoke your name, drawing himself from his silent trance, wanting you to stop now and not speak another incredulous word.

“My face,” you whispered sadly. “It will go away in a little bit...” The whole in your chest was opening, grabbing a hold of your voice and refusing to let another word out.

“Baby, stop,” his words filled the empty void when yours ceased. He eyed a hand of yours making its way to your neck, a sign of discomfort. He stopped it in its tracks and pulled you to his chest.

His arms cocooned you, holding you far too tight to be comfortable, but you needed it. To feel he was there and there with you. He pressed you head to his chest with the revelation of disregarding his own hesitancy of somehow hurting you with his touch. His heartbeat melding with your own as you froze, slowly melting your guard until tears wet his shirt.

If his goal was to keep you from harm, he failed. It was proven when you released the tension from your shoulders against his grip. His words repeated until you showed signs of listening. Words of reassurance and love. Words filled with apologies and pleads for you to forgive him for causing you this pain. He was naive to think of you in such a way. To make up a version of yourself that was weak or fragile. He lost sight of the fire you have in your veins when happiness emits from your aura. The glow you have when your body shakes from laughter. The strong independent girl that rounded the corner of his kitchen and introduced herself without a glitch of uncertainty. But here you were asking for reassurance and he knew it was his own fault.

You cried in his arms, letting him carry your weight from the room before he sat down on the bed and let you take a moment to breathe, curled atop his knees and listening to his voice.

“Hey,” He said, lifting a hand from your shoulder to run over his face, drying the wetness that plagued his own skin. “You are so beautiful that it takes my breath away. Perfect. And I mean in every sense. You will always be perfect. Princess I never want to hear you say those words again. You are so perfect. And always will be. We have a little baby growing.” You took a deep breath, picking your head off his shoulder and reaching down to lay a hand over the swell in your tummy.

“A baby!” He said, laying a hand over your own, though waiting for you to meet his eyes again. “You will look different, princess, and I will be here and love every single minute of it. I promise. No doctor appointments with Bri, I will be here. And this,” He brushed your hair away from your face, fingers lingering against your scalp. Your head tilted up and basked in the touch.

“This I take responsibility for. It eats me up inside, but you still take my breath away. Every time, and always will.” He watched as you looked at him and listened intimately to what he was saying. “And I want to be the person you go places with. You can go alone if you like,” he added, “but I will never not want to be by your side. Do you understand me?”

You look on a second more, gauging his expression and contemplating his words before you nod. “No more tears, please.” His hands moved to cradle your face, thumbs clearing the skin and in a flash his lips met yours. Filled with promise, he kissed you like you wished he would for days. You craved his taste and was letting you have it, finally feeding into the small fire in the pit of your stomach.

“I love you so much,” he whispered against your lips.

“I have something I want to show you,” he admitted, pulling away. A deep, clarifying breath escaped your lungs and he rubbed your back in turn, reaching in his pocket for his phone with the other hand.

His fingers fumbled across the screen, having to reenter the password twice. You looked away and laid your head into the crock of his neck, closing your eyes. Whatever it was, surely it could wait while your heart mellowed to a regular pace.

The peace was cut short when he whispered your name again, drawing your eyes open. He pushed his phone from his hand and into yours.

“There’s an album right here with your name on it.” You looked on at his camera albums listed on the bright screen. “And I want you to look through it.” He was certain with his words, urging you on.

“Why?” you asked, looking back up at him.

“I love you so much princess, I just want to show you, I want for you to know it and never question it again.” His sincerity was clear, nodding back down towards the phone in your hands. You opened it without a word and clicked on a photo. It was nice, from a few months back, but neither you nor India were looking towards him. She sat in front of you on the kitchen counter, clearly way past her bedtime. Both of you sneaking a bowl of ice cream but what stood out was the smile adorning both of your faces. Crazy hair and slightly sunburned cheeks laughing at each other. You remembered the night clearly, both of you having a private running joke to see how much ice cream you both could eat before Papa notices and “makes us eat salad for dinner”.

You sneaked a look up at him after glancing at the photo, “You know we sneak ice cream all the time, right?”

“Sure do,” he laughed in return. “Keep going.”

You looked back down at the phone and swiped to see another. A photo snuck from the doorway while you rested your head in your hand, elbows on the table as you watched the boys write something out on some paper in the homeschool room, reaching out with the other hand to point at something on Tristans’ sheet.

The next one was you sitting at the foot of the couch while India stood tall above you trying to put a braid in your locks while Sasha sat on your legs with a book in his hand. It was serene, calm. You pressed down on the picture to watch the Live, a short clip of fingers tangling in your hair and Sasha's voice reading aloud. You stifle a smile at it.

The next made you suck in a breath. You were sleeping in his bed at home, the sheet barely covering you. The curve of your back disappearing into the sheets, obviously sleeping in the nude, unaware of the camera pointed at you.

“Chris!” You teased, looking at him. And smirked and shrugged his shoulders, encouraging you again to continue. You brought your attention back to the photos, swiping through more and more. There were many and you kept going at a steady pace until another caught your eye.

You brought the screen to your eyes to examine it, brows furrowing in curiosity. Sasha’s room, although slightly messy, was easily recognizable as you lounged on the bed in the background, lying next to the boy.

Fingers trapping a small ring with an identifiable glow thrusting off the jewel perched atop. The pads of your fingers zoomed in on the object, at the same time, fairly sure your lungs stopped working.

You quickly swiped to the next picture, though the same ring adorned the foreground.

This time you stood against the bathroom counter brushing out your hair. The circle of jewelry resting around his own finger, reaching just below the first knuckle before it got stuck. You stared at the daring ring, resisting the urge to look at the man whose chest was pressed against your shoulder, whose arm rested across your back, rubbing gently, urging for you to continue.

You covered your mouth at the next one, fingers resting across your lips in astonishment. The bare skin of your shoulders were accented by the waves of your hair falling over them. Eyes closed, rested against his chest in search of sleep. He was cheeky, smiling in the photo, showing off a glowin diamond on a ring far too small for his own fingers.

The next picture was another of the same nature. Then a photo of you reaching for a glass in the kitchen. One of you sleeping on a plane. One of you naked, behind the blurred glass of the shower doors. One of you staring intently at your phone while standing at the counter. One of you standing in the mirror, examining, no - admiring the form of your growing baby.

You knew Chris was up to something, fidgeting after taking that photo, looking guilty as all get out. A brief watery laugh escaped as you reached that one.

The next was hilarious, Ellen with her face over your shoulder, with a surprised look, staring right at the camera. She knew!

You looked up at him, waiting for an answer to these photos. He just smiled and nudged you till you finished. There were more, a few more, as recent as this morning before he snuck away to go to set.

“It’s for you, love,” his voice whispers against the skin of your neck, lowering his lips to press a kiss where he knows you melt no matter the circumstance. An arm tightened around your back as he leaned forward and reached under the mattress, pulling a hidden box from the crease. You glazed at it as he switched hands and then brought it to you, flipping it open.

It was there, in person and not in a photo, demanding attention is the slyest of ways. It was beautiful, extravagant with an essence of simplicity. Words were caught in your throat as you stared at it, slowly blurring from your vision from unwelcome tears.

“Will you marry me?”

#chris hemsworth #chris hemsworth fanfiction #chris hemsworth x reader #chris hemsworth fluff #chris hemsworth x you #avengers masterlist

94 notes · View notes

huntsman-ash · 3 years

Text

RWBY V8E2 LiveThoughts

And now, for episode 2; same deal as last time, spoilers for this weeks episode.

RT getting a wee bit too real with the “curfew in effect” sign on the side of that building in the opening. Least here its a visible noticeable threat and not Corona. Still.

Oh, heh. “Hope has no place here.” Always did love that line. But that might just be the grimdark fan in me.

Overall Im not a huge fan of this seasons opening, it doesnt sound as melodic as the last couple ones. More...chaotic. I think thats intentionally but Im still not a fan.

Dude, Qrow, thats unsanitary. Seriously, clean that shit off. You’re gonna get like, tetnus or something.

And Robyn complaining to Qrow. I mean shes not WRONG but at the same time SHE was the one who decided to pass out during the crash. Dont go throwing blame around Hill, you were just as useless and dumb as everyone but Tyrian in that whole section of last season.

Correction, shes talking to Jasque Scnee who is SOMEHOW in the same prison as they are. Additional; hardlight cells with no visible emitters, no toilet or other commodities. This must be a holding cell of some kind. Unless the bed they all have is ALSO a toilet. Ew.

Yeah you sure about that Schnee? Indirect murder is still murder.

Whh...WATTS IS IN HERE TOO?! WHAT THE FUCK IRONWOOD. You dont have a maximum security like, ICEBOX lock up? Dude this is just ASKING for trouble.

Watt’s black eye is still there. Maybe there is something to him not having his aura fully unlocked. Or...something else. Im really confused about that.

Odd cell structure. Impromptu? Or is this whole room just modular. Cause its WAY too big to house just this many prisoners. Im getting the feeling this is impromtu, yeah.

Schnee thinks hes getting out, sucker.

Mad props to the Atlas soldier for the brutality. NOW HIT HIM AGAIN. Robyns smirk gives me life.

And Qrow suggests Operation Valkyrie. Im down. Ironwoods proven useless at this point, maybe his replacement will be more tactically viable.

Alright, Atlas has pulled all military forces out of Mantle. Guess that means Ash and CAMO would be out too. Officially anyway. Making note for future threads...

Cute about the news guy, but I LOVE the fact you can hear the former masculinity in May’s voice here, like she isnt fully finished transitioning. If its intentional, bravo. If not, still cool.

“Its time to show your teeth, Mantle.” HELL FUCKING YES THATS THE KINDA SHIT IVE BEEN WANTING TO HEAR!

Ah and there’s the hoverbikes from the teasers. I really dont get why they’re so goddamn big. Surely you can miniatruize hovertech...right?

They’re big enough to have weapons installed IMO. They should have.

Ah okay here’s the rest of the trailer

Hey look more lesbians. Boy that one on the left is MAD.

I cannot believe these Grimm are dumb enough to not go AROUND the dropwall (and Im going to call it that until I get something else, its literally the equipment from Halo Infinite’s release trailer). I get Grimm are dumb but damn bro.

Ah okay, THATS the split. All the faunus live in the slums down in the crater. Mantle proper is the mid-level, and then Atlas is humans for the most part. As far as I can tell anyway. Literal stratification.

Ugh, that whole conversation was so expositiony. Jesus fucking christ.

Holy shit this crews moving slow. Like, good fucking lord.

Personaly headcanon; that tiny fox toy Oscar rides past on his bike is later retreived by Ash. That is actually his bootprint on it too oddly enough.

Unity in this situation, Ozpin? Not likely. What you need is miltiary intervention and firepower.

Still not sure why there’s smokestacks in Mantle if everything on Remnant runs on Dust. Maybe its steam vents for the heating system.

So the Crater is literally a divide. Like a circular diamond mine or one of those “rabbit hole” gold ones. Literal wall holding its outside.

Snowshoe Shipping. New company. Full autonomous workforce from the looks of it. SDC related of course. And its still running despite everything. The drones here are literally AKs. Motherfucker, I think I know where the idea for them came from. SDC literally just weaponized its fucking worker robots.

And apperently Dust is refined in the Crater. Okay that makes sense. Does it come from outside or are they still mining it there I wonder.

Oh pnumatic elevator. STEALING THAT

“That isn’t relevant at the moment.” WAY TO DODGE THE QUESTION RT. YEAH BECAUSE THERES TOTALLY NOT OTHER COMPANIES OUT THERE RIGHT?

What the fuck happened to Penny? Did becoming the Maiden make her emo?

Lol yeah people are gonna die, its WAR Penny, eat shit and get over it. Fucking weaklings...

Your the maiden. Get over it. Go kill some people, you’ll feel better. Relish in power.

And Weiss is now dead from either pressure shock, thermobaric style lung implosion, forceful impact, or just being crushed flat. Oh, and asphyxiation. Seriously that was the dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life. REALLY NORA.

Oh hey, a banjo in the crater. It really is hicksville.

Fire dust crystals right into a metal container to keep it going. Holy shit it only took us 8 seasons to see Dust used physically again...

Sheep nom map. Nom nom.

Wonder who this Crimson she mentioned is.

Lil hops. Oh no shes too cute. Also it seems Mantle is divided into sectors. Useful information. Wonder what designates them.

Hahahah Fiona’s uncles a mole XD

And good to know “crap” is a swearword on Remnant.

Sounds like Crimson is a person with the Huntress’s. With his accent Im going to personally imagine his a grizzled former veteran, like Sergeant Stacker from Halo.

Note; the map says “Mantle City”. Interesting. Wonder what the other option is. Crater?

Ohhh and a spudmasher. Wait...no thats not a grenade. Some kind of gravitational surge thing. Again. Okay seriously RT is it so hard to just make a FUCKING WEAPON? Nothing fancy, no special features, just something that kills the fucking enemy.

Okay...what the hell. Those Grimm cleared out like they got a retreat signal...

Ohho whats this now...this thing looks a LOT more interesting. And SAVAGE. Damn, its beating the SHIT out of Oscar! I think I like this one.

It transforms. Like the Zeta Gundam. FASCINATING. So it must have a rapid transport/assault form of the original dog one then changes to this new one for close in? Or carrying I guess, its stealing Oscar. This must be the thing that Salem sent.

Yeah kinda looks like a werewolf.

Soooo why were they just standing there watching this thing beat up on him? It was open for a couple of seconds. Surely it cant be they were worried about Oscar, the best thign to do if an enemy is grappling your friend is to get in and take advantage of it.

Its smart too, used Oscar as a meatshield. Apperently just long enough to distract Yang and then yeet her.

Its got ONE HAND with Oscar in it you idiots, hit it all at once! Go for the legs and the other arm, knock it down, blow its head off. COME ON, its OBVIOUS.

Oh hey it talked. Good. That means it can probably feel pain.

There is no way those legs should work like that. They’re too small and its torsos the wrong shape. This things breaking physics.

The arms are also way too long.

Also why are you just standing there watching it grow wings? Kill the fucking thing already. Gotta admit the movement and screaming makes me think it feels pain. Interesting. Good to know. That or its just body horror/squick.

And thats the episode. I like how Fiona calls them “kids” though shes probably about their age.

#rwby #spoilers #rwby spoilers #rwby v8 #volume 8

7 notes · View notes

calpalirwin · 4 years

Text

Super Dork

Summary: With great power comes great responsibility. And trauma. No bad guy Spidey-Ash ever fought could compare to the demons in his own head.

A/N: I got yelled at for more again. Which is fine cuz I fuckin love this AU.

Content: Big sad. Fluff landing.

Word Count: 1.5k

And away, and away we go!

Part 3

“You got any clothes in this bag of yours you can change into? I can wash your suit for you,” she offered, nudging his backpack with her foot.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. You already did so much. I sh- I’m just gonna g-“ his voice broke off and his face scrunched up in pain as he leaned forward to pull himself up off the couch.

“You are staying for overnight monitoring,” she said, helping him lie back into the cushions. “Doctor’s orders.” She picked up his bag and started to rummage through his belongings. “Sweats, good. C’mon, let me help you get changed and in bed.”

“I’m fine on the couch,” he said, lifting his hips to tug off the bottoms of his suit, revealing- unsurprisingly so- more bruising. “You don’t have to give up your bed for me,” he added as he eased his way into the sweatpants.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Ash. I’m not sleeping on my couch for you.”

“So both of us are going to sleep in your bed? Together?”

“Not like we haven’t done it before.”

“If I recall correctly, we didn’t exactly do a whole lot of sleeping, sweetheart.”

“Oh, the charm’s back. How nice…” She rolled her eyes sarcastically as she gathered up his suit. “There special instructions on how to wash this, or…?”

“Yeah. You can’t.”

“I can’t?”

“Self-cleaning technology. To- he developed it with the help of Wakanda technology for me.”

“That old suit was rather smelly,” she commented, not wanting to press the issue of how he had gotten his new fancy suit.

“Try living in it,” he chuckled with only a small trace of humor as his mind took him to a dark place against his will.

“Hey, come back to me, Ash,” she coaxed softly, resting her hand on his bicep, her voice fighting to reach him through the fog that was welcoming him.

“Can we go to bed now?” he asked in a voice that reminded her of the boy he used to be, shy and uncertain. A far cry from the confident charm possessed by the man he had grown to be.

~~~

“Hey, Ash, I’m gonna need you to hold this building for me, kid!” Tony’s voice sounded in his earpiece. It was calm amidst the chaos raining down around them. A skill that Ashton had yet to learn from his mentor. “I’m sending you my location. Stay low. Get people to safety. Do not engage, do you understand, me?”

“Roger,” he replied, eyes darting around for her. She was here. He could sense it. And he couldn’t leave if he knew she was in danger. And Tony had told him to get people to safety. And she was people. So he wasn’t technically defying orders…

“Yeah, kid?” Steve’s voice was in his ear now. Breathless with exertion, but steadily calm. If they could remain calm, so could he. Time to prove he was more than neighborhood friendly.

“Not you, sir,” Ashton responded, allowing a small chuckle.

“Copy that.”

Ashton chuckled quietly again to himself as he finally found her. “What are you still doing here? Run! Get out of here! Get to shelter!”

“Come with me!” she begged. “Let them fight this!”

“I have to help them! I have orders!”

“Now’s not the time to play hero, Ashton! You’re no good to anybody dead!”

“And I’m no good to anybody standing here arguing with you when I have a job to do! Get to safety! Don’t make me tell you again!”

“Ash!” she continued to beg. “Don’t leave me! Come with me, please!”

“You need to get out of here!” he screamed at her.

“No! I’m not leaving you!”

“Get out!”

“No!”

“I can’t save you from this!”

“I don’t need you to save me!”

He shot his web, flinging her out of harm’s way, cutting her cries out of his mind.

~~~

His legs kicked at the blankets in his sleep as the dream held him captive. “No…” he called out weakly, his body twisting.

~~~

“That way!” he directed. “Keep running that way and don’t look back! There’s shelter ahead! Keep going!” He tried to keep his voice upbeat, friendly, as he raised it so it carried out among the stampede of people running past him.

“Building’s evacuated and secured, Mr. Stark,” he reported into his earpiece.

“Keep clearing out the city. We got to get all these people out.”

He swallowed the surge of anger. Throwing a fit because he didn't like his assignment wasn’t going to prove he wasn’t the same kid he was when he had first gotten his powers. He didn’t have time to be angry for long as all his senses rang loudly like a fire alarm pounding in his head. A building three blocks away was about to come down with people still inside.

He let his senses take control of his body, taking it to where it was needed.

He quickly took in the scene and set to work. He prayed the webbing would hold as he did his best to secure it to the buildings around it. The muscles in his arms screamed in protest as he gritted his teeth and planted his feet. “Tony! This building’s coming down!”

“Is everyone out?”

“There’s a family still inside. 4th floor, 7th window. Tony, I can’t hold this building and get them out at the same time… there’s still people below. Why are there still people?! You gotta get out of here!”

“Hold the building, I’m on my way.”

Ashton heard the soft ping of a tendril of webbing breaking off. “No. No, no, no…” he whispered, his voice climbing high as he frantically shot out more webs for more grip. “Hey, Cap? Your shield strong enough to prop up a building?” Ashton joked as he fought against the panic threatening to seize him.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Stark, kid,” Steve chuckled. “Hang in there. He’s on his way.”

“On your left, Grandpa,” Tony said and Ashton looked up to see the red blur.

“Howard was older than me, Tony…”

The tendrils continued to snap, almost faster than Ashton could fling them. “Tony, my webbing’s not holding. I don- Tony, what do I do?”

“Hey, kid?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m about to ask you to do something and I just need you to do it, okay?”

“Okay.”

“The building’s structurally damaged. It’s coming down and there’s no stopping it. I’m going to do my best to get these people out that are still trapped. But I need you to let go and get somewhere safe. Can you do that?”

“Tony, no! I can hold it until you get the people out!”

“Let go, kid. Your job’s done. Clock out. Go home.”

“NO!” Ashton screamed as the building started to fall, his webbing breaking in a series of rapid snaps.

~~~

“TONY!” The cry tore out of Ashton’s throat as his eyes flew open, panic and terror in his chest. He fought for each breath as his senses grounded him. He was safe. In bed. Alive. Tears spilled a path down his cheeks as his shoulders heaved with the sobs breaking free.

“Hey,” a voice called out in the darkness and a soft hand was on his arm. “Shh, it’s okay. It was only a dream.”

“No, it wasn’t…” was the broken whisper. “I was supposed to secure the buildings and get everyone to safety. It was a simple fuckin’ assignment and I couldn’t even do that, right… If I had been faster, I could have saved them. Your parents. Him. Everyone.”

“My parents were already dead on the other side of town. You and that building had nothing to do with their deaths. As for Tony? He was a genius, Ash. He knew he wasn’t getting out of that building unscathed.”

“I should have tried harder! Been better…”

“You did everything you could. You made all the right calls. Ash, it was an accident. An accident that you were part of, sure. But it had nothing to do with you.”

“People died because of me!”

“People died because of Loki’s army. People lived because of you. I lived because of you.”

Her admission lifted some of the weight pressing down on him. He could live through the villain smackdowns. He could live through the loss of life. It wasn’t easy, but he could do it. But the loss of her? Well, let’s just say that if it came down to her or his powers, he would choose her and never think twice. “Of all the things I’ve lost, you’re the one thing I can’t bear to lose,” he told her, reaching out to grab her hand in his, letting the memories of all the times he had done this before flood out the rest of the weight.

“Then maybe you should stop letting me go,” she replied, squeezing his fingers with hers.

“I’m never letting you go again,” he promised, lifting up their hands to brush his lips against her knuckles.

Tag List

@goeatsomelife @flameraine @cashtonasff5sos @here-for-the-uproars @cxddlyash @1-irwin-94 @baldcalum @sparkling-chaos @tea4sykes @youngblood199456 @5-seconds-of-obsession @gosh-im-short @aquarius-hood1996 @talkfastromance4 @itjustkindahappenedreally @philthepegacorn @kikixfandoms

#super dork #ashton irwin #ashton irwin fic #spidey-ash #galcal irwin

20 notes · View notes

tiny-smallest · 7 years

Text

something jolly this way comes

Rating: G Characters: (Inkborne) Bendy, Boris, Alice, Henry Warnings: none Description: Bendy’s just discovered Christmas is a thing, and he wants to celebrate.

Problem: He was told about Santa Claus, and believes the man exists. Worse problem: The present he wants from Santa is something Henry can’t fabricate for him.

How to make the little devil feel that Christmas magic, now…?

Also on AO3!

FINISHED JUST IN TIME BEFORE I LEAVE. I uh. Wrote post-story Inkborne fluff. Sue me.

Inkborne is brought to you courtesy of @the-vampire-inside-me. This fic is brought to you courtesy of sudden internal rambling about Bendy’s weird mannerisms and then some realizations about stuff based on that. It follows the other thing I wrote for Inkborne in terms of continuity.

Henry was discovering things about his accidental new children in leaps and bounds now that they weren’t constantly wary of their lives being taken from them.

Boris was a calm, gentle giant; with a tendency to refer to things with canine terminology (children were ‘pups,’ towns and all families but his own were ‘packs’– 'family’ was a term for his and his alone) and a penchant for just taking life one day at a time, growing and discovering at his own pace. He was one to appreciate life in all its forms, complex and simple, and had a fair amount of maturity to him… but not so much that he failed to be any fun. His favorite sport was sassing his best friend.

Alice’s maturity was sharper, wearier; she lacked patience for things she could not understand and, though as responsible and forgiving as Boris, she was far more cynical in general about the intentions of others. It wasn’t as if she were no fun at all, but she carried a quiet edge from her own tragedies.

Maybe Henry was just so good at seeing it because he recognized the harrowed look of a young person who grew into a leader far too soon, knew what it felt like to have too much weight on small shoulders. Seeing her crack a smile was rewarding enough to sustain good feelings for a while day; getting her to leave her shell to laugh and shoot the breeze or maybe even engage in some playful behavior could sustain the family for a week.

Henry was quite sure: however silly both Alice and Boris could sometimes be, they seemed very firmly rooted in young adulthood, late teens, maybe.

The nature of Bendy’s age, however, was… strange.

It seemed like, very often, the demon had been brought to life with the mental and emotional maturity of someone in his later teens, like the other two; besides being jaded to hell and back and demonstrating the reasoning capabilities and understanding of a teenager, Bendy consumed and processed information about the world he’d been denied at a pace far too rapid for any child to manage.

But there were plenty of other times that contradicted that. There was his incessant need to touch what confused or fascinated him, regardless however bad an idea that was for him to actually do, his tendency to taste things that he figured ought to be edible (and weren’t always), to say nothing of how petulant Bendy could be when provoked or when just in a bad mood. That could have been written off as the simple quirks of a demon struggling to learn about the new world around him.

But then there were times he was given to examining, understanding, and believing things about the world in such a way that was positively child-like in its wide-eyed innocence, like how he felt the need to show Henry every frog he managed to catch along the banks of the lake of their farm, or how he collected pretty rocks from each new place they visited, or how he was taken to automatically believing anything about the world told to him by random shmoes in the street, provided that the people providing the information didn’t seem malicious.

Case in point… Santa Claus.

Henry couldn’t remember the last time he celebrated Christmas. With no family and fewer friends, the man didn’t exactly spend much time on his farm. Really, the place was only there as a sort of home base between jobs; someplace to store his stuff and occasionally sleep. He used it so infrequently that bringing his new kids home had required a solid week of work around the place to make it habitable around the clock.

Henry was fine living in a mess and occasionally slapping hasty repair jobs that were little more than bandaids over problems that needed much more proactive solutions. But he wasn’t about to make three young people who had spent their entire lives trapped in one kind of hellhole after another live in this kind of environment.

So new and strange was everything that Henry had completely forgotten about holidays. The mundane was enough work to muddle through, and having not paid attention to Christmas in many years, he failed to notice its approach.

The best thing about the nearby town was, by far, its utter lack of caring about their new supernatural neighbors. Sure, some were less than thrilled, but on the whole the town figured that if they were living with a demon hunter, then all of them, demon included, must be safe.

It was one of these townspeople Henry had to thank for Bendy bursting into the house at supper time with all the force of a hurricane, so excited that he didn’t even bother shedding his winter coat as he bounced around Henry’s ankles, insisting they needed to get a move on.

Because Christmas was in ten days, and the house had to be acceptable for Santa.

What followed was probably the most hectic week of Henry’s life, discounting his time spent chasing down some eldritch abomination, and frankly, that was still saying a lot, considering that even when he didn’t have a dangerous thing he had to kill, his life could still get pretty crazy. But he couldn’t pretend it also wasn’t enjoyable. The evergreen he and Boris chopped down and hauled into their living room added a lot of charm to their home, not to mention it smelled nice. Decorating it turned out to be much more fun than he’d anticipated; sitting by the fire with the other three and stringing popcorn to decorate the tree with was a soothing, relaxing venture broken only by the occasional fights to get Bendy to stop eating the damn stuff, which usually turned into throwing popcorn at each other.

They probably all ate more popcorn then they actually put on string, but thankfully, Henry had made a lot of popcorn.

Stringing the popcorn and the Christmas lights on the tree was an entirely separate adventure. After a lot of troubleshooting to make sure the electrical lights even still worked, Henry had to untangle Alice twice, Boris five or six times, Bendy no less than ten, and while he’d only needed to be untangled once, it took the three supernaturals twenty minutes to get that nightmare sorted out.

It was worth it for the finale. Holding Bendy up to put the tree topper on probably ranked within Henry’s top ten favorite moments in his life; the little demon lit up brighter than all the lights in the entire nearby town when he was chosen to have that honor this year, and that look remained as he placed the little star on the tree with probably more hesitant care then he’d ever employed in his entire life.

With the decorations done, they moved on to planning the food next. That mostly fell on Henry, but Alice was able to lend a hand, too. As it turned out, for those many years she stood as a leader in the citadel, tending to the survivors and protecting him, they had actually managed to celebrate Christmas. Very scant Christmases, with barely enough food, but the holiday had been acknowledged and those who had celebrated it before had educated her on what it was supposed to be like.

Gathering the ingredients they’d need for their special day was easy. Roast turkey, roast duck, mashed potatoes. Green beans. The look on Bendy and Alice’s face at all the food was painful; Alice stared with a quiet shock and Bendy wouldn’t stop babbling in sheer excitement.

The fact that Boris had nothing to say because he hadn’t been dealing with food shortages for fifteen years due to being dead was not much better.

He’d already been sure he was going to make this holiday the most amazing thing they’d ever seen in their lives, but now he was doubly sure. This would be the best day of their lives, bar none. God knew they deserved it.

Part of that would be the presents.

This brought them back to Santa.

Bendy chattered on and on about how he couldn’t wait for the magic human to come with gifts for them. It was kind of amazing; Henry would have guessed that Bendy would find the concept more creepy then delightful. The myth was about a stranger breaking into homes, after all, and it wasn’t like Bendy was very receptive to the idea of people invading his privacy.

But then again, it wasn’t like Bendy had gotten much time to just… be innocent. To believe in childish fairy tales. Any magic life might have held for him was sucked out pretty quickly. He wasn’t sure if he should let Bendy believe this next year but… what was the harm in letting the demon have a single Christmas where he genuinely believed a magic man in a red suit was going to leave him presents?

Henry panicked a little when Boris asked Bendy why Santa had never visited them before, but the little demon just looked at Boris with a raised eyebrow. “Because his magic wasn’t strong enough to get ‘im through that shithole, duh.”

Well… he couldn’t fault him for that logic. It kind of made sense, in a weird way.

And so everyone wrote letters to Santa, which Henry ‘delivered’ to town for them. Boris’s was a long letter about being grateful for his family and that being enough but if it wasn’t too much trouble, if Santa could bring him a trumpet. Alice’s was a very formal read, and it was obvious she didn’t believe she was actually writing to Santa, but she was willing to give it a try. The books she wanted wouldn’t be so hard to get, either.

Then it was time to read Bendy’s letter. Chuckling to himself as he opened the envelope, Henry tried to guess at what he might’ve asked for. A net, he decided; Bendy probably asked for a net. He’d been trying and failing for weeks to catch the flying insects around the farm.

At first I was going to ask for a bike.

Ah shoot; wrong guess- wow, his manner of writing was much more refined then how he talked. Did Joey teach him how to read and write?

Hell, even his handwriting was actually kind of… pretty? Delicate? Did Bendy even write this? Maybe he dictated to one of the others?

No, he’d seen Boris’s writing. Downright chicken scratch. And this wasn’t Alice’s handwriting, either. Huh.

But then I realized something I want more. I don’t need to ask for safety, or anything like that. Henry’s got it covered. I don’t need to ask for a lot of things, because Henry’s got it covered.

Fucking hell. This kid seriously trusted him. Swallowing was just a bit more difficult.

So it makes sense to ask for something he can’t give me, right? You’re magic, so what I want for Christmas is this.

Get rid of the branding.

His stomach fell.

My creator branded me at one point, to hammer it in that I was his property. He left a lot of scars and it was hard to choose between the branding and the scars on my wrists, but the branding has his actual name on it and I want it off. I don’t want to ever worry about someone seeing it again. He doesn’t own me. He doesn’t own me. His name doesn’t belong on my body.

I don’t care if I get nothing else this year. Just get this thing off me.

He just had to ask for the one thing Henry couldn’t do for him.

Property of Joey Drew. He remembered that brand; it was burned into his memory forever. And into Bendy’s back, near his left shoulderblade. It was one of the many reasons he wished Joey was still alive; every time he was reminded it was there it made him want to throttle the man all over again. “So I’d never forget who I belonged ta,” Bendy mumbled as an explanation once. He didn’t speak on it again, and neither did Henry. That topic was too painful to touch. For Bendy to acknowledge it at all, especially to someone he fully believed existed…

He really, really wanted this.

What was he going to do about it?

The days passed far too quickly. Boris and Alice’s gifts were, at least, easy to acquire. Just as well because the amount of stress he felt over Bendy’s was unbearable. He got the bike—he may as well, since it was mentioned—but what could he do about the rest?

He couldn’t let him down. He couldn’t.

Christmas Eve came. It was a pleasant dinner, a little pre-celebration before the day tomorrow. When the others went to bed, Henry took out paper and pen. Clearly, he was going to have to write something. But what? Some kind of apology? What the hell could he even say that wouldn’t be horribly half-baked?

Ugh. He needed to clear his head. With a grumble, he set down the pen and left his room.

The Christmas lights cast the living room in a soft red glow. Combined with the ornaments and the soft peacefulness of night, Henry had to admit- it was very charming. He didn’t bother to ask himself why he’d ever stopped doing this; he knew the answer to that already.

It was lucky, though, that he had a reason to take up this tradition again.

A snore interrupted his thoughts and he blinked, looking down. What in the world?

Crouching a bit, he squinted under the tree and then grinned. Curled up on his side like a little kid was Bendy, wrapped up in a blanket. No pillow. He must have counted on getting chilly, but not on falling asleep. The scamp probably wanted to catch Santa in the act.

Unfortunately for Bendy, the demon could and would pass out anywhere if he was tired enough.

“Hnnn… whu?” Whoops. It looked like Henry’s soft chuckle had woken him. Before he could move back and slip out unnoticed, large, dark eyes opened and fixed on him, sleepy and confused. “Henry?”

“Just me, bud. What’s up?”

Bendy yawned. “Waitin’ for Santa. Wanted ta see him. Thought-d” he paused, rubbing an eye and looking much more awake now, suddenly. “Thought his present might be easier delivered if I was up.”

Ah.

“Why’s that?”

Bendy frowned. “I can’t tell ya. Cause- then it won’t come true?”

“That’s birthday wishes, Ben.”

“… Well still.”

“Maybe you should go to bed? Sleeping on the floor can’t be comfortable.”

Now he looked even more awake. That was… the exact opposite of what he’d wanted, fantastic. “Nah. I gotta be here. It’s- important.”

“If I can’t ask what it is, can I ask why?”

Another frown, this one more contemplative. “… It means a lot ta me. Feel like it’ll help me feel better about- things.”

“Things like…?”

“… Well…” He glanced away. “Stuff Joey did. Things he said.”

“So I’d never forget who I belonged ta.” Piss off, Joey.

“You need to talk about it…?”

He shook his head and forced a bit of a wobbly smile. “Nah. It’s fine. ‘Sides, Christmas is supposed to be about happy, right? I’ll just- lay down here and wait.”

“Okay. I’ll… go back to my room then. See you in the morning?”

“See ya in the mornin’.” He laid back down and stretched with a yawn, staring up into the tree from underneath it.

Henry returned to his room. He knew what to write.

—

The branding was still there.

Christmas morning, the branding was still there. Even after trying to go back to sleep for a couple of minutes and checking upon waking again. It was still there.

There were a few packages in the room. He’d been here. But the brand was still there. Lead settled into his gut.

He smiled his way through the morning, opening the bike, pretending to be excited. He could feel the worried eyes of the other two on him; they knew him well enough. They knew he was pretending. He was about to turn around to attempt to turn up the act to eleven in order to convince them when he spotted the white envelope among the wrapping paper. The hell was this?

Pulling it free, he slit it open with a claw and extracted the letter from inside.

Bendy,

I’m sorry. Truly, truly sorry. I know how deeply you wanted this; I felt its ache all the way from the North Pole. But I regret to say my magic can’t do that. It’s not anything my magic was designed to do.

That doesn’t mean I don’t have anything to say, though.

You’ve suffered a lot. The world hasn’t been kind to you. You’ve got a lot of scars, both the kind that are visible on skin, and the kind visible in the way you live your life, how you react to certain things, how your

It’s a gross cruelty that he branded you like that, but here’s something he failed to consider. You are, in fact, a person. Not a tool, nor a toy. A person. You cannot be owned, cannot be defined by him. You will grow and change and become more than he ever was, far out of his reach. You are and will be more than he imagined for you. You will spit in his eye and move on with your life instead of succumbing to it. I have felt your strength, your sense of justice. It is a fire he could never extinguish. You love deeply and fiercely, and you will live on long after he has gone. The legacies you leave will outlive his.

You belong only to yourself. And you have proved this.

PS: I do hope you enjoy the bike. I had to finagle it a bit to be your size.

-Santa Claus

“Bendy you’re-!”

He looked up from the letter, aware suddenly that his cheeks were wet. Boris and Alice watched him, eyes wide with worry. One set of eyes, however, were not worried.

A lightbulb went off.

Setting the letter down, Henry let out an oof of surprise as he suddenly ended up with a lapful of demon and arms thrown around his neck.

“Bendy what-” Alice started

“Santa was nice this year,” he mumbled into Henry’s shoulder. His grip tightened. “R-real nice.”

The hunter returned the hug as Boris and Alice shared a look of dawning understanding. “… I’m glad to hear that, bud.”

It was going to be just as he promised. The best day of their lives.

And every day after that, too. As best as he could. Somehow… he was sure that would be enough.

I’m assuming that like, the Inkborne au story derives more from Bendy and the Ink Machine (or specifically, what we’re all hoping from that game’s ending) rather than Bloodborne because I looked it up and Bloodborne’s endings are… weird. And involve deities and stuff.

To avoid any further spoilers about Bloodborne, I’ll just say that I really wanted to enjoy a story about a demon hunter who Didn’t Sign Up For This Shit, Exactly and his unconventional son, and their misadventures in trying to escape an inky death hellscape, in which said demon hunter ends up with two more kids and eventually manages to fix the problem, escape with his new kids, and figure out life from there. And so that’s what I wrote about here. Let the family live pls.

I tried to be period-accurate most of the time in this. Was shocked to find that electric lighting and Christmas tree lights were in fact used in the Victorian era (1837-1901). In fact, everything in this is accurate to the era in which Inkborne is set, I think. Kinda pleased with myself.

#the-vampire-inside-me #inkborne au #bendy and the ink machine #batim henry #batim alice angel #batim bendy #batim boris #i used 'supernaturals' to collectively refer to them because they're not toons in this au but they are all supernatural beings so #my writing

79 notes · View notes

fanfictionandstuff · 7 years

Text

Secrets- Riverdale X Reader Chapter 4- The Last Picture Show

Fandom: Riverdale

Warnings: Ms. Grundy and the clusterfuck that comes with that...<<also swearing apparently.

notes: yikes ive been inactive for forever jfc oops SORRY!

word count: 3,500 (ish)

You woke up on the soft and worn blue fabric of your living room couch the soft evening light filtering through the window. Your phone was blasting your moms ringtone and her smiling face lighting up the screen. You groggily picked up the phone and hit the green 'answer' button

"hey mom" you mumble still not 100% awake, you were not prepared for her this soon after waking up.

"Hey sweetie, how are you?" she greeted you chirpily, you groaned internally she wanted something 'sweetie' was a dead giveaway.

"I'm fine mom." you replied, sighing internally you just wanted her to get to whatever she wanted.

"Good, thats good...so I heard they found Jason Blossoms body...Sweetheart, I know it might be tempting to tell someone about your...ties to that family. But remember, you'll be ruining both our lives." your moms voice was almost happy and carefree, but there was definite worry under it, finally her reason for calling became clear.

Its not that your mom was a bad parent, but she was flighty and a bit self centered if it didn't suit her it wasn't an option and it had always been like that. When you were 12 she had left you for a month with a babysitter and gone to Rome for work. She tried she really did but she wasn't cut out for kids, honestly if you hadn't come along by accident your mother probably wouldn't have had kids. She was like the professional fun aunt, she was less flighty when you were a kid but something had changed when you were old enough to (kind of) take care of yourself and that was that. It stung a bit when it had first started happening but now you were just tired when it came to your mother.

"no mom. I haven't told anyone. I know the consequences."

"Good! lets keep it that way pumpkin, the Blossoms aren’t people you want to get mixed up with." she sighed with relief. 'pumpkin' was new.

"Are you coming home soon?" you asked, knowing better than to ask about her comment about the Blossoms you didn't ask about your father and she didn't tell, you had learned that one young.

She breezed past your question. "I have to go (y/n), talk later!" and she hung up before you could even say goodbye. You hit the end call button and threw it at the foot of the couch, and covered your face with one of the navy throw pillows in a form of protest against everything.

You glanced at the wall clock and realized it was almost 6pm, and you were starving so you changed into fresh clothes grabbed your backpack and slipped out the front door. Locking it behind you and walked the few blocks to pops, the neon signs greeting you as you approached.

You walked through the door to find some of your friends already sitting there. Jughead was gesturing angrily as you grabbed a chair from a nearby table and pulled it up. "The Drive-in closing, its just one more nail in the coffin that is Riverdale! No. forget Riverdale. in the coffin of the american dream." Jughead was ranting, he was still doing the angry gesture thing outrage in his every word. "As the godfather of indie cinema, Quentin Tarintino, likes to say--"

Kevin cut him off. "please, god, no more Quentin Tarintino references." "What? Im pissed. And not just about losing my job The Twilight drive in should MEAN something to us, people should be trying to save it!" Jughead continued his mini rant.

Veronica was next to chime in, "In this age of Netflix and VOD, do people really want to go watch a movie in a car? who even goes there?" “People who want to buy crack" Kevin added.

"And cinephiles and car enthusiasts--" Jughead started listing off people who go to the twilight and you were the one to cut him off this time.

"I go." you chimed in, you had been a bunch of times when the house got too empty or you felt too isolated. You would take the old beat up pick-up from the garage and go to The Twilight. Just to be around people for awhile, and not have to worry about oversharing. considering everyone in the freaking town only wanted to gossip about the blossoms and Jasons murder.

"See (y/n) gets it! The Twilight drive in is a riverdale treasure, right Bets?" Jughead gestured at you and then turned to a very distracted Betty. She blinked a few times before nodded and smiling politely. "Totally."

"Anyway, its closing because the town owns it but didn't invest in it. so when an anonymous buyer made mayor McCoy an offer she couldn't refuse--" Veronica cut Jughead off again. "Anonymous buyer? What do they have to hide, No one cares." "I do!" Jughead retorted.

"I kind of do too, well more about the drive in closing than the person who bought it. I wont--" have anywhere to go when I cant deal with the big empty house. "--I spend alot of time there." you catch yourself mid-thought. Jughead gives you that weird stare again like the first time you met in the gym. the weird 'I’m trying to figure you out not just looking at you' stare, after you chime in, and veronica and Kevin gave you half-hearted looks of curiosity.

Jughead breezed past it though. "Also, you guys should all come to closing night, Im thinking 'American Graffiti'. or is that too obvious?"

Veronica perked up at the slight topic change. "I vote anything starring Audrey Hepburn. Or Cate Blanchett." "Or the talented Mr.Ripley." Kevin added. "Betty, your choices?" Betty blinked like she had just woken up. "Everything OK, B?" Veronica asked. "Yeah, yeah. Im just thinking. um....Maybe 'Rebel without a cause?'" Everyone looked at you next, and you shrugged helplessly. "Rebel without a cause sounds good to me."

Veronicas mom came over and set down a basket of fried something or other in front of Veronica. Veronica smiled. "Thanks mom."

Kevin opened his mouth to bring up a new topic but was cut off by cheryl slamming her hand on top of Veronicas mothers a few tables over and glaring at her. "Be sure to put all* of that cash in the register. You are a Lodge, after all--" Veronica got up and started towards Cheryls table. "--and Lodges are known to have sticky fingers."

"oh no" you whispered under your breath. this had the possibility to be bad. "Cheryl." Veronica stated warningly, but her mother put up a finger to stop her.

"Honey I got this. Cheryl, I went to school with your mother. She didnt know the difference between having money and having class either." Veronica practically beamed with pride, while you tried to suppress a laugh at the look on Cheryls face. Veronica slid back into the booth just as the chime on the door jingled.

Kevins eyes widened slightly, "now thats* an odd combo of people."

The four of you followed kevins gaze and saw Archie, ms. Grundy, and Archies father walk through the door. "Ill be right back." Betty said while sliding out of the booth.

"Betty, no. dont." Jughead grabbed for Bettys arm but she was already on her way over to the group. You stared in confusion at Jughead and Bettys strong reaction to Archie and Ms.Grundy walking in together. She seemed nice enough, you didnt take any of her classes and didn't know her well you only really knew what Doily had revealed at the blue and Gold office. And then it clicked Archie had been AT Sweetwater river July fourth, and from what Dilton had told you so had Ms. Grundy, but you had never considered they were there together, that was so...oh god.

From the look of horror or shock on your face, Jughead seemed to follow your thought process and shot you a 'I'll explain later' look.

Kevin leaned back into his face his gaze flicking between you, Jughead, and Bettys retreating figure. "Wait, whats happening?" You and Jughead ignored him as you watched Betty and Archie exchange a few words and then head outside. You slid into Bettys now vacant seat next to Jughead to get a better view out the window. This was all about to come crashing down around Archies head, and like watching a trainwreck you couldnt look away. Even as unease and disgust was causing your stomach to flip.

"Whats happening out there? Do we know? Is it about me?" Veronica shot off rapid fire questions at Jughead as Kevin peered out the window. Jughead slumped down in his seat, his face contorted into unease. "I have a strong inkling and no, Also I'd let it go." "Yes, but you're you, and I'm me. You do you, girl. Ill be back." Veronica said while getting up from the booth with a lighthearted smile. "Veronica. You really should just let it drop." You added in an attempt to stop her from going.

Veronica just smiled at you mischievously and walked out the door into the parking lot. Jughead sighed and rolled his eyes. Kevin leaned in and looked at Jughead, "What was it like before she got here? I honestly cannot remember."

You laughed lightly, a slight hint of darkness clouding your eyes. "You mean Riverdale wasn't always straight out of a soap opera? Somehow I find that hard to believe." your words were dripping with sarcasm and a hint of bitterness.

Kevin just smiled awkwardly and turned his attention back to the window. You closed your eyes and leaned back into the vinyl of the seat and let out a long sigh. You were torn between just fleeing this insane town ASAP or punching Ms. Grundy in the face...or maybe just having her arrested...and then punching Archie in the face for once again being an idiot. All options sounded pretty good. When you opened your eyes Kevin was gone and Jughead was staring at you. "I'm not going to rat Archie out, Jughead. If thats what you're worried about somehow I think that would just hurt everyone worse." you offered quietly while switching to the other side of the booth.

"I wasn't worried about that. you just looked queasy." he replied. You sighed and ruffled a hand through your hair. "Student-teacher relationships Jughead. its sick. I know Archie is your friend, But its so, so,* wrong. And its all just about to get worse as far as I can tell." Jughead nodded and dropped his gaze down to the table. you grabbed a pen from the table and flicked it back and forth between your fingers, watching absentmindedly while it spun. An uneasy silence filled the air around the booth. "do you mind? if...if I hang out here for awhile longer? I dont want to go home yet." you asked quiety, your gaze on a small dent in the table. Jughead smiled, "As long as youre buying." he joked.

you grinned, "Paying you in food to hang out. its a little hookerish, but you have a deal Jones."

You grabbed your sketchbook that you had thrown in your backpack, and Jughead pulled out his laptop from his bag under the table. You both spent the next few hours in a comfortable silence, only talking occasionally to order a refill on a milkshake or get another round of food. At around 1am you finally had to tap out, your eyes were starting to close by themselves and it was getting harder for you to stay awake. You packed up your belongings and slipped on your jacket, Jughead looked up from his laptop. "Hey Jughead, I'm gonna head home now. My goldfish probably misses me." you smiled sleepily at your own semi-joke.

"Your goldfish, and not your parents?" Jughead asked. which would be a fair question, not many people would let their kid stay out so late.

"My goldfish is the only one missing me at home." you said quietly, your gaze averting from his. Jughead shut his laptop, before slipping it back into his bag.

"I know the feeling" Jughead said softly, his eyes cold. You didnt pry, it was obviously a touchy subject. So you grabbed your backpack and paid the tab the two of you had racked up shaking off the heavy tension, and headed towards the door, but Jugheads voice stopped you. "See you at school tomorrow (y/n)?" You smiled at him, "Count on it."

The next morning as you walked past the blue and gold offices an arm shot out and pulled you into the room. You stumbled and twirled around to see a nervous Betty wringing her hands, and waiting for you to get your bearings. "Betty! what the hell?" you said annoyed.

Betty looked around nervously before closing the door, "Sorry (y/n) I just need your help with something. I have something to tell you about Ms. Grundy and its--"

"That she and Archie are...dating?" you cut Betty off, cringing at the last word. She gaped at you, "You know about that?" You nodded, "I figured it out at pops the other night...wait, about that, is there something else?"

Betty walked over to her computer and gestured for you to follow, "Yeah look at this-" Betty pulled up a Bunch of tabs, all different social media accounts of Geraldine Grundy. "-everything about her was made around the same time, a year ago. before that Geraldine Grundy doesn't exist."

"...shit. Does Archie know?" you asked as ran a hand through your hair, sighing loudly..

"No. Im meeting him at Pops after school, I'm going to tell him then." Betty replied.

"Betty why are you telling me this?" "I just wanted a impartial third party to confirm that I wasn't being totally crazy about this social media thing." Betty said.

"Look Betty its super sketchy, but be careful. This whole Archie and Grundy bullshit is going to come crashing down Don’t get caught in the mess."

Later that day, you were sitting at the kitchen table working on biology homework when a knock sounded at your front door. You stood up from the wooden chair with a sigh and padded across the tiled kitchen floor into the living room, and then to the front door. You opened the door to see Jughead standing on your porch.

"I need your help, noone will listen to the concerns of one disgruntled employee, and you're the only other person in this town who cares the starlight is closing." he had his arms crossed, but his face was pleading. an odd mix of vulnerable and guarded.

"Hello to you too, yes this is a new shirt thanks for noticing, I'm also sorry for missing you at school." you paused but Jughead didn't respond. You sighed."Of course I'll help Jughead." You grabbed his arm and pulled him with you into the kitchen. "Do you have a plan?"

Jughead glanced around your kitchen, taking in the wood paneled floors and the weird mint green cupboards the previous owners had installed. "I want to appeal to Mayor McCoy directly, show her there are people other than addicts and thugs that frequent the drive in." Jughead started, but you cut him off.

"I take it im the 'people' in this scenario? you know for all you know I could be an addict AND a thug...I mean, I'm not. but wouldn't Betty be better for this? I’m kind of an unknown in this town." you said sarcastically as you hopped up on your kitchen counter.

Jughead stared at you from across the room. "Bettys distracted with the whole Archie and Grundy thing-" You grimaced. "-But, it doesn't matter, Betty doesn't go to the drive-in. you do. So we'll show her normal highschool kids show up, not just Riverdales 'criminal element'."

You pushed yourself off the countertop and grabbed your jacket from the back of a wooden chair where you had flung it earlier. "Alright. lets go." You and Jughead walked side by side to city hall, going over your strategy. so far the plan was use you as a prime example of the twilights redeeming qualities and if that failed, wing it.

When you got to city hall, the mayors secretary waved you in while she chatted on the phone. You trailed behind Jughead. The mayor was moving around her office flipping through papers. "Mayor McCoy you cant close the Twilight Drive-in." Jughead piped up before the mayor could say anything "Its a staple of this town!" You nodded along.

She moved to stand behind her desk, "I'm sorry, but the Twilight Drive in? Its a blight thats become a cesspool! And a hangout for criminals and transients." she took a seat in the red leather chair and continued to flip through her papers. "And normal highschool students! Im there almost every weekend." You shot back from next to the scale model of the town. annoyance biting at your words. The mayor smiled at you tightly, like a parent trying to get their child to behave in public. "Look kids, The deals done. Andrews construction is set to demolish the lot on monday."

You narrowed your eyes slightly at her. You were pissed beyond belief, but you had no idea what to say.

Jughead bit his lip and glanced down, bouncing slightly. He grabbed a chair and pulled it up to the mayors desk. "Mayor McCoy, when I was a kid, my family and I would go to the drive-in all the time.- " She finally put down her papers and crossed her arms, leaning on her desk, giving Jughead her full attention. "-We couldn't afford tickets for everyone...so my sister, Jellybean, and I would hide in the trunk until we parked. we'd sneak out." He shook his head slightly at the last part. your heart broke for him as he looked the mayor in the eye again, his expression pleading."It's like my home."

The mayor glanced away and then looked at him again. "Thats a very sweet sentiment, Mr. Jones. But the future of Riverdale is at stake." her expression and voice were almost kind, but there was an edge of condescension in every word. Jughead shook his head and stood up from the chair, heading straight for the door.

"Jughead!" you called after him. but he didn't stop. You turned to face the mayor and gave her the best glare you could manage before running after Jughead. You headed out the double doors of the mayors office to see Jughead disappearing around the corner, The floorboards creaked softly as you jogged to catch up with him.

"Jughead, wait!" you called after him again, your voice echoing through the empty hallway. He finally paused and turned to face you. "I'm sorry." you said, there was nothing else you could say. you could tell he was hurting, and you had no idea how to help.

"Thanks for trying." was all Jughead said before he walked away again. And this time you didn't follow.

That Friday night you trailed behind Kevins truck in yours, his truck only had two seats so you had to take yours. He and Veronica parked and you took the spot next to them, the three of you immediately climbed out of your vehicles and started setting up the blankets. the spots around you started quickly filling up as just about every person in Riverdale arrived in the gravel lot for the Twilights final showing.

Kevin and Veronica settled in as you pulled out your sketchbook, an empty page staring back at you, but you had a plan for it. You grabbed your pencil and started recording what you saw in graphite and paper, The twilights curtain call. The people of riverdale moving around you, the soft glow of the screen, casting everything in shadows. You knew things were happening around you; Cheryl climbing in with Kevin and Veronica, Bettys mom showing up and dragging off Archies dad. But you were focused on this scene, not anyone elses.

For almost two hours you sketched, shaded, and erased. until you had something that reflected what you were trying to capture. You carefully tore it from your sketchbook as the movie began to roll the credits in the background. You folded the page and scrawled a note on the back.

'a little piece of home. --(y/n)'

As people started to pack up their things and go home, you walked to the projector house and looked at the paper in your hands again, the words on the back staring back at you as you slipped the drawing under the door and knocked, before turning and walking away to join the line of people leaving the drive in for the last time.

But even as you climbed into your truck, you couldn't shake the feeling the twilight drive-in wouldn't be the only thing changing in Riverdale.

Tags list: @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @deanackles67 @thejourneyofabrokenheart @bbyhansol143 @half-and-halfxx @yummyphoenix39 @scrolling-my-life away @littlefrenchbird

#secrets #chapter 4 #riverdale x reader #jughead jones x reader #jughead x reader #riverdale imagine #jughead jones imagine #jughead imagine #jughead reader insert #riverdale reader insert

74 notes · View notes

mademoiselleenjolras · 7 years

Text

Brothers

Hey there, so here’s the thing I was working on during the storm, now that my wifi is fully functional again (thank ya GOD!). Actually, my first fanfic on this site. It’s kinda crap and longer than I expected but I’m okay with how it turned out for the most part. Tw for mentions of abuse, but its all under the tab. Enjoy, I guess, and let me know what you think!

"What the-" The voice came from below him, down on the street.

Race froze. His mind kept screaming at him- keep moving keep moving keep don't get caught don't let them see you- but fear kept him locked in place. He hugged his knees a little tighter and willed whoever it was to walk past. Maybe it wasn’t him they had seen.

"Race? That you?"

A small sob escaped him. Someone had found him. He recognized the voice, he knew he should be able to place it, but he was so damn cold and he was so damn scared he couldn't get his brain to work. The fire escape shook and he heard the ladder being pulled down. No no no don't come up here don't find me please don't hurt me-

"Whoever you is, I's comin' up there. Just hang on a sec." More shaking. Race couldn't tell if it was the whole fire escape or if his own tremors had started back up. Someone was coming for him. He had to go, now. Before he could jog his body into movement once again, a very familiar head appeared at the top of the ladder.

Jack blinked for a moment as his eyes adjusted to the lower light. "Racetrack?" He asked. "What the hell're you doin' up here? It's freezin' out!" He pulled himself up onto the fire escape, moving toward him, and Race scrambled back and away. Jack, oblivious to the terror running through his friend, kept coming closer. He caught a glimpse of the bruise across Race's face, the bloodied lip. The leader's concern skyrocketed. "Jesus, Racer, what the hell?" He exclaimed, reaching for him.

"N-no, no don't!" The younger boy cried, eyes wild and breathing rapid. He flung his arms up over his face to protect himself. Jack stopped in his tracks. He kept still for several seconds, shock written across his features, before it melted into something softer.

"Easy there, Race, it's just me. It's Jack," he said, keeping his voice low. Race continued to tremble, but it looked as though he were listening. "I ain't gonna hurt'cha, you knows that."

Race's head picked back up. "J-J-Jack?" He questioned, eyes gassy with tears. It couldn't be Jack, there was no way Jack had found him, he couldn't even dare to hope. God, Race, stop being so ridiculous, you’ve been jumped before, you're fine, they didn't get you-

Jack's voice cut through his rapid thoughts. "The one an' only," he confirmed. He held out his palms to show he truly meant no harm. "You okay?"

Race looked at his friend for another moment before another sob escaped him. He buried his face in his knees as more followed, the dam having finally broken. Jack moved closer, keeping his movements slow and visible. "Can I touch ya?" When he received a nod, he wrapped his arms around Race and pulled him into a hug. Race held tight, his short-circuiting mind piecing together Jack and safe and warm.

"Easy, Racer, I got'chas," Jack reassured him, one hand running up and down his back in a comforting way. "Yer alright, I's got'cha. Christ, you's freezin', y'know that? What happened?" He questioned. Worry gnawed at his gut as he tried to rub some warmth back into the younger boy's arms. He shrugged out of his coat and immediately wrapped it around Racetrack, still waiting for an answer. "We's been lookin' for ya's all night."

"I...there was...I..." Race tried several times, but between the chattering of his teeth and the shaky sobs he couldn't seem to get a handle on, he couldn't force the explanation out. Jack quickly decided not to push it.

"Alright, alright kid, don' hurt yourself!" He said. "It ain't that important. You's safe now." Race just clung on tighter. Jack was here, that meant he was safe, that meant it was over. He could go home.

Beside him, Jack was considering the same thing. One look at Race's blue fingers and the snow in his blonde hair was enough to convince him that the kid had been out for far too long. Still, he didn't know just how busted up Race was. There was a real chance that he wouldn't be able to move- it had certainly happened to guys in the lodging house before. All he could tell now was that Race was absolutely terrified of something. It took a lot to knock the precocious gambler into a state like this, and Jack knew it.

Eventually, Race's sobs died off into sniffles. "Thought he was gonna get me," he said quietly, the first full statement he had managed since Jack's arrival. Anger flared up in Jack's chest, neck-and-neck with concern. Racetrack Higgins was his second in command, his friend, every bit his little brother. Whatever, or whoever, had done this to his brother would pay.

"Ain't nobody gonna get'cha, Racer. I ain't gonna let 'em," he swore fiercely. "But you's gonna hafta tell me who it was what did this."

Race still refused to meet his eye. He pulled away, hoping to save at least a little bit of face, but Jack stayed close enough that their shoulders were still pressed together. Cold, hurting, and exhausted, Race gave up on arguing.

"Mi Papá," he said, keeping his voice low as if the man's very title could cause him to appear. Jack felt his heart sink- Race's family had always been a sore subject. Not many of the boys knew just how bad it was, but Jack had been the one to shake him out of plenty of nightmares. He had been there when Race had first run away and joined the newsies, just a banged up, loud-mouth Italian kid who flinched when you raised your voice but scrapped for all he was worth when the Delanceys looked at a younger kid sideways. It had been five years since then, and the reappearance of Race's father was unsettling to say the least. "Him and his buddies saw me comin' back from Sheepshead. I ain't seen 'im since... since I..."

"Since ya ran away?" Jack finished for him, unable to keep quiet.

Race nodded. "Yeah. Since that. He wasn't too keen on the idea that I ain't dead. There was three of 'em. They got in a real good soakin', an' I tried to fight back but... there was three of 'em." He shrugged, looking down. The offset angle of a street lamp highlighted the already-dark bruising around one of his eyes.

Jack nudged his arm. "Hey, ya couldn't'a taken 'em all on. Ain't no shame in that. How'd ya get out of it?"

Race swallowed thickly. His mouth suddenly went dry- what if he told Jack and Jack decided it was too dangerous for him to stay in the lodging house? What if Jack kicked him out? The very thought was enough for make his eyes sting again, and he dug his nails into his palm to keep from crying again. He wasn't worth the trouble to keep around, and he knew it. But he couldn't lie to Jack, not when he was out here in the cold sitting with Race's half-hysterical self. He couldn't do that to his brother.

"He said... he said a lotta things, while they was knockin' the shit outa me," he started. "But when he said he was gonna take me back t'... that place, I panicked and I ran."

Jack nodded. Everyone knew how fast Race could be when it mattered- it was part of what had earned him the nickname. If he managed to get free for even a second, bolting would easily have gotten him away. Being dragged back to his childhood home definitely gave him reason to take flight. "They was chasin' me for hours; s'why I never came back."

"Ya been hiding' out up here all night?" Jack asked. Race nodded again. "Well, I ain't gonna let 'im take ya, that's for damn sure," Jack said. Silence reigned for a minute as the pair dissolved into their own thoughts. Neither seemed to have much more to say on the subject.

Jack looked at the younger boy, taking in his hunched shoulders and the downcast look. He wasn’t the gambler Race was, but he had a feeling that he could place a safe bet on what his friend was thinking. He’d been there himself. At first, Jack considered saying nothing. Now that Race seemed to have calmed down, he wasn’t quite sure what to say. Conversations like this had never been his strong suit. Usually, he left them up to Crutchie, too much of a coward to really discuss feelings with anyone. Race was the same way; Jack had seen it. If he tried to hand this one off to Crutchie, or anyone for that matter, Race would run. This time, Jack was going to have to talk to his brother himself.

"Listen, Racer..." he started hesitantly, rubbing at the back of his neck. "When the old man used ta knock me around, he used ta... say stuff too." Race's ears perked up at the mention of Jack's father, nearly as taboo as the mention of his own. He turned to face him, curious. Taking that as a good sign, Jack continued. "Stuff about how I wasn't worth nothin', I was trouble, I was shit." He looked at Race, meeting the younger boy's eye with a serious expression. "Y'can't listen to what they says, alright? You's worth bein' 'round, and we wants ya 'round with us. Anythin' else he said ain't true. We's yer family, and we cares about ya, and we's always gonna. You's better than anything he coulda ever come up with. Ya gotta remember that."

Race blinked at him. When he realized that Jack was finished, he looked away, sniffling once again. Jack’s words echoed in his head, helping to drive out the horrid ones his father had used. Race held onto them tightly and let them remind him. He had a family. People cared. "Thanks, Jackie," he said, unable to fight the small smile his brother's words had encouraged. "Means a lot."

Jack grinned at him and ruffled his hair, to which Race responded with a sour face and flailing arms. The moment was lost, but neither was sorry for it. "Any time, kid. Now c'mon, let's get ya outa the cold, 'fore ya gets sick. It's late, I'm sure they's long gone by now, and if they ain't, we'll take care of 'em together." He stood up, offering Race his hand. Race took it, wincing when the other boy pulled him to his feet. Everything from his head to his toes ached, reminding him that he had been out for far too long.

"You busted up too bad to walk home?" Jack asked with concern. The blond shook his head with a too-bright grin.

"Nah, I'll live. What's a soakin' when ya got a friend ta have yer back?"

Jack raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Well, ya looks like shit. We'll get ya cleaned up when we get back," he decided, poking at a bruise on Race's arm to prove his point.

Race winced and swatted his hand away. "You's... prob'ly right," he admitted sheepishly. "Guess they got me pretty good, huh?"

Rolling his eyes, Jack made for the ladder. "Lucky you's got a brother what knows how to fix ya up."

Race grinned. "Y'think Specs'll still be up this late?" He asked. Jack threw him a dirty look as he climbed down, before they both laughed.

"I see how it is," the older boy said, still feigning hurt. Race slugged him on the shoulder.

"Nah, I'm jus' teasin'. Thanks for comin' lookin' for me, and for... well, y'know," he finished as they reached the street, fiddling with the sleeves of Jack's coat. He took a step, but grimaced as his weight shifted painfully.

Jack tugged one of Race's arms around his shoulders, wrapping his other around him to support some of his weight. "Any time, Racer. Any time."

#newsies #newsies fanfiction #jack kelly #racetrack higgins #kat's writing

11 notes · View notes