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antivirus-mh-au · 3 years

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Antivirus - Chapter 4

First Chapter Previous Chapter Ao3 Link TW: None Note: I am completely exhausted and working on a laggy computer. I will add these links when I’m not a zombie trying to use a zombie laptop. Thank you for your patience.

Click the link. Let the page load, the old laptop whirring as it opened. A YouTube video, like so many others. Opening shot, an abandoned building in the middle of the night, muffled voices talking.

Shrieking, screaming. The camera lowered as the one holding it ducks for cover. Four voices yelling at once. Suddenly, laughter. Relieved laughter.

"Fucking bats!" A man called out. The camera raising, focusing on the dark shapes fluttering out the window.

"We need to be careful," a woman said, voice light-hearted. "Those things carry rabies."

Laughter breaking through the group again, a logo of a camera appearing on the screen.

He paused the video and glanced down at the title. "OUR GREATEST HITS, VOLUME ONE."

He sent a text to his friend.

Phoenix: who are these assholes?

The reply was immediate.

Skully: they're my assholes. College kids I made friends with on Twitter. Really cool. I don't remember being that cool when I was twenty.

He grunted aloud. Lucky him, remembering anything about his twenties. Not everyone was so fortunate.

Skully: They’re part of the MH fandom. They actually live in Alabama and were able to track down some of the locations in the videos.

He rolled his eyes.

Phoenix: Find any bodies?

Skully: Just blood.

He shuddered, pulling his hooded jacket closer to his body.

Phoenix: Cool. Morbid, but cool.

He was such a liar.

Skully: Anyway, not what I was sending them to you about. They just made a new video today and I think you might be interested in it

He grimaced.

Phoenix: This is about your crazy boyfriend, isn’t it?

Skully: He’s not my boyfriend!! I don’t know him!!!

Skully: And you know my partner doesn't share.

Phoenix: But it’s still about him. The prophet guy.

Skully: … Yeah. But you should still watch this! I think you’ll find it interesting

He leaned back against the wall and huffed.

Phoenix: Why?

Skully: … the kids talk about Tim, alright?

Skully: They talk about him a lot.

His fingers hesitated over the keys. He lingered, reading the words again and again. Tim…?

Phoenix: Fine.

Phoenix: Send me the video.

The video, almost thirty minutes long, took its sweet time to load. First thing on screen was the same logo as before, a camera with a generic full face mask behind it. The name of the channel followed, MH Unlocked. He shook his head.

The name faded out, replaced by three people on a couch. Two women, one man. A second man sat on top of an end table on the right side of the couch. The lamp that probably belonged in that spot sat on the floor at his dangling feet.

The woman on the left, a bushy haired brunette with deep tan skin, a high ponytail and golden brown eyes, gave the camera a grin.

"Hey investigators!" She waved. "We're back with another video."

"And this one's a doozy," the woman beside her said, raising her mug, which proudly bore a pride flag. If he had to guess, it was the lesbian one. Her hair was dyed orange, peachy skin flushed by makeup or a light sunburn, it was hard to tell.

"Before we start," the first woman said, "be sure to leave a like and give us your thoughts and theories in the comments! I promise, we read all of them."

"Eventually," said the man on the end table with a grin. He was the palest white guy ever, with curly black hair, glasses, and about a thousand freckles on his face. The man next to him gave him a shove, and the first man burst into laughter.

The other man, with skin several shades darker than the brunette and a suit far too good looking for this kind of environment, rolled his eyes. He waved a hand, with a silver ring on his index finger, at the camera.

"You already know us," he said. "I'm Mix."

"I'm Holly!" The brunette on the other end said.

"I'm Wren," the orange haired woman said.

"And I'm Steve!" The freckled man grinned wide, his green eyes practically glowing with excitement. "We've got a big story for you guys today."

"Oh, very big," Wren said, before taking a drink from her mug.

"Big like the worst headache you've ever had," Mix said with a smiling roll of his eyes. Wren smacked him on the shoulder without looking away from her drink.

"So." Holly reached up from the floor and pulled up a laptop. The brand logo was covered up with a pineapple sticker. Her eyes scanned the screen as she fiddled with the touchpad, Wren leaning over to see what she was doing.

"Last night," Holly said. "Something weird happened over on the Neophyte_Calling YouTube channel."

"Weirder than normal," Wren said.

"Yeah," Holly said. She glanced over towards Steve, who swiped at the screen of his phone. He looked up.

"We'd show the footage but people don’t seem to like when we do that," Steve said. "Something something spreading the sickness." He shrugged with a smile. "But we've all watched it and we can give you a play by play of what happened."

"It might not seem that dramatic," Wren said, "but the implications are pretty intense."

"I'll say," Mix said.

"Last night, at around ten pm," Holly started, "in the middle of his usual stream, the Neophyte went quiet. The way he does when whatever he's supposedly channeling is trying to talk through him. After about thirty seconds of silence, he started bleeding onto the table from his head, which remember, is mostly off screen. He said, "he's coming," and fell over as the screen glitched out. For another hour there was complete silence before the stream randomly ended."

"Weird shit," Steve said.

Holly nodded. "Very weird shit - but in character for him."

"Now, for those of you that don't know who the Neophyte is," Mix said, "he's the guy you see people calling 'the Prophet' in this fandom. Talks like a drug addict on a high, but many people believe there are secret messages in his words that can be decoded. They say those messages predict the future."

"Not everyone believes this," Holly said.

"I don't," Steve said, hunched over and watching his friends. "But there's definitely something funny-weird about the guy. Very… uncanny valley."

"Sometimes, unprompted, he'll stop talking and do this creepy voice." Holly cleared her throat, and when she spoke again, she lowered her voice, taking on an odd pitch to her words. "Grains of sand in the hourglass of time. Your existence is irrelevant." She shuddered, and let her voice go back to normal. "Something like that."

"That's an awful impression but it gets the job done," Mix said.

"You try doing one better," Holly said.

"The one thing all of these coherent messages have in common," Wren said, "is that they're all addressed to the same person. Someone called Tim."

Steve nodded. "And you can guess who most people think that 'Tim' is."

"It's been ten years since Marble Hornets ended," Mix said. "But it would make sense if it were Tim Wright the Neophyte was talking to. He was the only survivor, after all."

"But that would imply that Tim is watching the Neophyte streams," Wren said.

"And if he's watching the streams, he could be aware of us, too," Holly said.

The four went quiet. Mix looked at the floor. Steve traded a look of discomfort with Holly. Wren took a sip of her mug. She pulled it away from her lips with a sigh.

"If he does know about us," Wren said, "why not come forward and tell his side of the story? He could change the whole game by revealing himself."

"Probably because he's a fucking murderer," Steve said. Mix glared at him, but Steve only shrugged. "You know I'm right!"

"He did kill two people," Holly said, looking at her laptop. "Just because Kralie killed Jay doesn't make what Tim did right."

"But what other choice did he have?" Mix said. "Alex wouldn't have stopped trying to kill Tim. One of them needed to die."

"That doesn't matter to the legal system," Holly said.

"We're getting off topic," Wren said, raising a hand. "It doesn't matter if the Neophyte was talking about Tim from Marble Hornets or not. What matters is that someone is going somewhere and that's apparently good news for the Neophyte or whatever he's channeling."

"You can say the Operator, it's okay," Steve said.

Holly glared at him from over Wren's head.

"It does matter, though, if he's talking about Tim in particular," Mix said. "What if Tim is heading back to Alabama? Maybe he left after the end of the series."

"It's possible," Holly said, "but that's pure speculation. We don't know that."

"Isn't speculation all we do?" Steve said, swinging his legs gently. "Come on, let's give the audience something to chew on. What do you guys think the Neophyte was talking about? The crazier the theory, the better."

Mix frowned. "Well…"

With a shake of his head, the viewer closed the tab. He'd seen enough. Enough to make his eyes burn and hands shake. He took a deep breath, and shuddered, pulling his jacket around himself. It was a warm day beyond the safe confines of this abandoned house, but that didn't stop the chills shooting through him.

Was he afraid? Or was he angry?

With a growl he thrust the laptop away from him and reached for his sketchbook. The pen he'd been using before still rested inside. Forcing his thoughts away from the video, he focused everything in his mind onto his art.

He wasn't a great artist, but his memory was good, and with nothing else to do most days, his skill was getting better. With proper art tools, he could've even gotten great at it. But there was no need for greatness right now. Art was supposed to be healing, and that more than anything was what he needed.

In his mind he captured the image, something he'd seen so many times before. Grinding his teeth, he let the image flow onto the page once more. His favorite thing to draw, the one thing that really made him smile.

Losing track of time was part of the appeal. With the light from his laptop, he could see the whole page, or at least enough of it to work. The ink bled into the paper, the lines assembling into a rough image that soon became a face. He could see it so well in his mind's eye. As if the man he pictured was right in front of him. But he wasn't. And if the man knew what was good for him, he'd stay that way.

The sound of a new message on Discord got his attention. He glanced at the time instead. An hour, flown by, his mind lost in an ink-based daydream. Exhaling hard, he looked back at the art on the page. It wasn't finished. It would probably never be finished. But as it was… it was perfect.

Tim Wright made a very good model, unaware of that as he was.

Running his hand over the page, feeling the indents where his pen dug deep into the paper, he shook his head, and smiled.

"Better not be coming back, Tim," the man, the Maniac, said. "If you do… I'll have to kill you.”

#marble hornets #mh antivirus au #mh fanfiction #marble hornets fanfiction #marble hornets au

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savemefromanepicoftimewasted · 3 years

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My Best Pal

Steve Rogers X OFC Bucky Barnes X Reader Cap was the best thing to happen to Steve, he was the reason Steve had found the love of his life and gotten married. Three kids sitting together in the dining room, laughing at whatever one of them had seen. This was truly his life. a/n:this is the final fic to my Steve and Captain series, and I just want to say to everyone whose read it, thank you so much, this honestly made me cry like a baby when I finished it, but it’s something that I’ve loved to write, and I hope everyone loved it too, thank you <3

Steve took a slow, deliberate breath.

He was taking Rosie, and Aj to their first day of senior year, where had all the time gone? It felt like just yesterday he was holding them for the very first time. Haley was heading into her sophomore year of highschool, that didn’t help ease his anxiety.

“Dad, things are gonna be fine, we’ve been going to this school for years.” Rosie shrugged nonchalantly.

Steve ran a hand over his face, scratching his beard absentmindedly.

“That isn’t what worries me sweetpea, I just miss you guys all the time.” Steve smiled softly, resting his free hand on Rosie’s shoulder.

“We know, mom tells us all the time.” Rosie patted his hand, grabbing her bag from the floor.

All three kids slipped out of the truck, waving behind themselves as they headed inside the school. They’d made friends, but no one ever usually came over to their house.

It wasn’t because Steve was opposed to people knowing that his kids attended the school, it was that the kids were respecting his personal space, his privacy. Being an Avenger had taken a lot from him, and being in his house was the one place no one could bother him.

Steve grabbed his phone, dialing a number he’d know by heart even without the eidetic memory.

“Babe, they’ve been out of the car for two minutes, come home already.” Krista’s voice was soothing, a gentle reminder of what he’d go home to.

“You know how I get when they start school.” Steve glanced at himself in the rearview mirror.

The gray he’d started to notice when the twins were toddlers had slowly started to make it’s way over his entire head, even going as far as making its way into his beard.

He’d accepted it after a couple of years, knowing there was nothing he could do to prevent his aging. Then again, Bucky was in the same boat as him, though the gray seemed to affect him more in his beard rather than his hair.

Y/N, and Krista had started calling them silver foxes, much to the kids dismay. Apparently there’s nothing worse than hearing your mother call your father sexy. They of course didn’t care choosing to annoy the twins, Haley, Becca, and Sammy all the time.

Steve took the long route home, enjoying the scenery that was New York almost absentmindedly. It’d been a long time since he’d been able to just drive away without a real destination in mind. Sure, he was going home to the dogs and Krista, but right now he was simply enjoying the drive.

Maybe he could pick up breakfast for them, something they hadn’t had in a while, a nice treat to distract him from the kids being at school all day.

“Sir, your wife has texted a few times over the past few minutes, it seems urgent.” Steve felt his heart jump into his throat.

“Can you read the texts?” Steve gripped the steering wheel tighter, palms sweating as he stared out the windshield.

Krista:Babe, are you taking the long way home again? You know how I feel when you do that.

Krista:Hey, there was a package delivered, but there’s no note, were you expecting something?

Krista:Steven Grant, there is something inside the box, and I swear to god if you’re not home in the next five minutes.

Krista:If this is a prank you’re sleeping on the couch for a month! “Would you like me to send a reply?” Friday’s voice sounded far away, almost as if she was talking inside of a tunnel.

“Tell her I’ll be home in two minutes.” Steve pressed down on the gas pedal, the speedometer needle rising much higher than he’d ever driven in the truck before.

It could handle the speed no problem, but he wasn’t about to risk anything when it came to his wife’s safety.

Cap and Grant were most likely watching the door intently, even in their old age they were determined to keep the house safe whenever Steve was out of the house. Right now though, he needed to protect them no matter what. They weren’t as spry as they once were, even if Steve could say the same for himself.

He pulled into the driveway haphazardly, parking the truck before jumping out and running over to where the box was laying in front of the door.

Krista had been correct, the box was definitely moving, but there didn’t seem to be anything dangerous about it, no toxic gas oozing out, or any kind of bomb.

“What the hell?” Steve knelt down, gently prying open the top of the box, coming face to face with what seemed to be a German Shepherd puppy. The dog was small, smaller than even Grant was when they adopted him.

He pulled the puppy out carefully, checking for any kind of note to give him an answer as to why there was a dog on his front steps. Besides what looked to be a blanket, there was nothing indicating as to why there was a small puppy on his porch.

“Doll? Do you know anyone whose dog was having puppies?” Steve grabbed the box before nudging his way inside.

“No, cause all of our friends either don’t have animals, or have cats.” Krista stepped around the couch slowly, almost nervously.

Cap came over to sniff the small pup, snuffling when he realized it was another dog. Grant on the other hand was ready to play with him, even if Steve was reluctant to set him down.

“There was no note or anything, he was just kind of sitting out there.” Steve bundled up the pup closer to his chest, frowning when he realized they were shivering.

Krista cooed softly, stroking her fingers over their fur.

“They’re so small, was Grant this small when we got him?” Steve knew immediately she was going to want to keep him, and who was he to deny her? Considering the dog had been placed in their laps essentially.

The other two dogs walked away after a few moments, seeming to realize Steve wasn’t going to let the small dog play with them, at least not yet.

“He’s not underfed, just maybe still growing.” Steve was afraid he’d accidentally hurt the small pup, listening to the soft whines he was letting out.

“Let’s take him to the vet, see if there’s anything wrong with him first.” Krista grabbed any necessities before leading Steve, who was still holding the puppy, out to the truck.

Sure it would’ve been easier to have Friday do a quick scan to check for any abnormalities, or fleas, but they needed to be absolutely certain. Plus, if they’d planned on keeping him, there were plenty of different things to get first.

“God, he’s so small.” Steve glanced down at the pup, noticing how he’d started to burrow himself into Krista’s arms.

Maybe he was scared, of the world, of going somewhere else he wasn’t entirely sure about. The only conclusion Steve could really come to, was that he was curious.

The vet was all too happy to take them back once they arrived, examining the puppy for any fleas, or diseases he might have. He was a trooper through everything, even when the vet mentioned shots.

Well, he may have whined for a brief moment when the needle came into his sights. Steve wasn’t even a fan of needles, and he was a supersoldier.

“From what I can tell he seems to be in perfect health, no fleas, no rabies, not even a hint of anything negative. You said he was dropped on your doorstep?” The vet seemed confused, but also concerned for any of the possible brothers or sisters.

Steve couldn’t tear his gaze away from the pup, curiosity getting the better of him. Would it really be so bad if he had any siblings, another dog to add to the family?

“Steve, don’t you dare.” Krista wasn’t so much glaring at Steve, as she was staring him down slightly disappointed.

“C’mon, Cap needs someone to play with at home.” Steve wasn’t afraid to use his own puppy eyes, knowing it worked every time.

She sighed softly, running a hand through her hair. The dog was in good health, and Cap could use the exercise right now.

“Don’t tell the kids about him just yet, that’s all I’m asking.” Krista stepped over to the pup, fingers dug into his coarse fur.

Steve smiled, content that they’d be able to give this puppy a forever home, even with three rambunctious teenagers.

“How hard could it be anyway?” They’d taken care of three kids all under the age of five at once, this would be a cake walk.

3 ½ Months Later Steve ran after Sarge, nearly skidding across the floor as the puppy sprinted into the kitchen. Krista paid neither of them any mind, stirring together the pie mixture she’d been working on all morning.

“Gotcha!” Steve held Sarge up in the air, laughing when the puppy wiggled and barked.

“You know, it’s christmas morning and the most you’ve done is be outdone by a dog, again.” Krista snickered, pouring the mixture into the pie crust next to her.

Steve scoffed, setting Sarge down onto the ground. No one else had known they’d gotten another dog, everyone more concerned with how Cap was doing. His muzzle was spotted with gray, matching Steve’s own beard and hair.

“The kids are all in the dining room, probably texting everyone to see when they’re coming over.” Steve stepped over to Krista, arms wrapped around her waist as she hummed happily.

Steve knew the first people to arrive were going to be Bucky and his family, they always came almost an hour early. Nothing with being punctual.

“Gifts are all wrapped and ready to be handed out when everyone’s here, though I don’t think Cap’s gonna be up for much fun today.” It was pretty obvious that he chose to relax more often, laying in his bed while Sarge ran around the house.

They’d lost Grant the year prior, he’d given them plenty of love for the years he was on the earth, and everyone was grateful to have spent time with him.

“He’s getting old, but at least the kids were able to grow up alongside him.” Steve didn’t want to ever have to say goodbye to his best friend.

Cap was the best thing to happen to Steve, he was the reason Steve had found the love of his life and gotten married. Three kids sitting together in the dining room, laughing at whatever one of them had seen. This was truly his life.

“Can you really believe that they’re going to be graduating next year?” Krista sighed softly, running a hand through her hair, it was a nervous habit she’d picked up after dealing with three teens.

“I honestly can’t, but we knew they were going to graduate eventually. They’re gonna go off and do big things with their lives, make us proud.” Steve smiled softly, pressing a kiss to her cheek before straightening once more.

Everyone began to arrive quicker than Steve anticipated, the house soon buzzing with activity as everyone snacked on finger foods and passed out gifts to everyone.

“Alright, I just want to say thank you everyone for coming, I’m sure the kids loved their gifts since they’re all preoccupied.” Everyone chuckled, Tony playfully scoffing where he sat by Pepper.

“We’re all family, even if we aren’t blood relatives you’re all my family.” Steve raised his glass, sitting back down beside Krista on the couch.

The holidays used to be a tough time for Steve, Bucky included. Times were tough, people fighting on nearly a daily basis. T’Challa and Shuri had helped Bucky become the man he was today, someone with a family that loved him dearly.

Steve had never pictured himself having a wife and children, always worried about the next mission that came his way. When his best friend Cap was practically dropped into his lap he couldn’t complain, there were more important things to worry about.

“I gotta admit, even after all these Christmases, no present beats getting Cap.” Steve patted his head gently, watching the way he slumped against his very loved dog bed.

“I’d say the same thing, he’s been such an amazing part of this family.” Krista reached down, running her nails across his back gently.

Cap’s tail wagged almost lazily, enjoying the attention he was getting.

“I just hope Sarge doesn’t bother him too much, I don’t think he’d be able to handle too much play time.” Steve frowned slightly, Cap was laying around more often than not lately.

“He’s nearly twenty years old, I think Sarge will get the hint after a few tries.” Sarge was currently lounging by Bucky and Y/N, enjoying his belly rubs that Bucky gave him.

The party simmered down after dinner, guests leaving in small groups until the last ones to leave were Tony and Pepper.

“Good to see you again Cap, Steve.” Tony nodded to Steve before stepping out of the house.

Pepper was already waiting for him, Morgan playing on her phone in the back seat. Steve waited until they drove off before going inside, assessing the damage of the living room.

Sam and Bucky had helped clean up before heading out, mentioning that they had early mornings and needed to be on the road. Steve wasn’t one to complain, they hosted Christmas in their home every year anyway.

“Don’t stay up too late, the kids are already in bed.” Krista pressed a kiss to his cheek, before heading up to their bedroom.

Steve took a deep breath, getting into the mindset to deep clean before crawling into bed.

Cap followed him around for a few minutes before deciding Steve wasn’t doing anything fun and lying down once more. Sarge joined him after a while, curling up by Cap’s side and promptly falling asleep.

Steve finished cleaning at nearly one in the morning, shutting off the lights before heading up to bed.

His life was perfect, it didn’t matter what had happened in the past, everything in that moment was perfect. And it was all thanks to his best friend, Captain.

Captain “Cap” the dog 2019-2039

#steve rogers #steve rogers fic #steve rogers and his dog #steve rogers fandom #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers au #steve rogers fluff #christmas fluff #marvel #tony stark #pepper potts #sam wilson #bucky barnes

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zinniarhee · 3 years

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The Foxes & the Hound || Zinnia & Scout - Ft. Layla

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @zinniarhee @laylacooke @scoutxli SUMMARY: Layla finds Scout in the woods and brings her to Zinnia’s clinic. Zinnia witnesses Scout’s shift back into a human and they realize that they’re one of the same. CONTENT: Blood, Gore.

Ever since she had come to White Crest, the one thing Scout had come to value most had been the numerous forests and access to the ocean and waterways of Maine. She had found the well needed peace and freedom, she had longed so desperately for after her brother died. Though her mind still lacked the ease it deserved, and it wouldn’t until she had figured out the mystery of how and why he had died. But today, she had managed to push all negativity out of her mind, just as she had been taught by her grandmother and father back in the mountains of California, and run free in her true form; a rare, but beautiful black and gray furred fox.

With small legs and feet carrying her swiftly through the forest, Scout ran with wild abandon as a breeze off the nearby body of water blew through her fur; ears back and eyes closed for the briefest of moments. But it was in those few moments of complete freedom that she had felt the cold steel teeth dig into her tiny furred leg, breaking bone, and severing ligaments and tendons, as a sharp cry rang out through the silent overgrown forest of the North East.

Yipping and laying on her side, her small pink tongue hanging out, Scout squirmed slightly, until she realized just how unbearable the pain was when she moved. Help. Me. Through the panting and tears filling her small golden colored eyes, Scout panted for air and relief from the physical pain her body was currently feeling. Please. Don’t let me die here. Alone. Like my brother.

Knowing that Ariana was safe, at least for the most part, Layla had found herself needing her own escape from the town and the people in it. Indy had been tucked away safely in his bed as the teenage werewolf slipped out of the trailer locking the door behind her. Being in the woods already gave her a chance to slip off into a steady jog without having to make a trek through the middle of town. And while she hated being alone most days, sometimes it was nice to just go off on her own and let nature carry her away.

The morning air was cool, but had felt good on Layla’s flushed skin as her body temperature ran higher than the average human’s. Listening to the sounds of birds chirping and animals scurrying along the underbrush had given her the opportunity to just run and not think. However, hearing a loud yip in the distance; one that hurt the animal lover’s heart, caused her to reroute her path to find the source of pain. It was the scent of blood and the whining coming from the small black and gray fox just up ahead, that made her run a little faster, and by the time she reached the animal, she had tears in her eyes.

Kneeling down and seeing the bear trap as the clear culprit to the animal’s pain, Layla ran her hands slowly through it’s fur trying to calm the animal, before making a decision, “I’m so sorry, sweet one. I know this is gonna hurt a lot, but I’m not just going to let you lay here.” Gripping both parts of the bear trap's mouth, the werewolf used all of her strength to rip the trap open, freeing the small fox’s leg.

Scout’s eyes were closing until she heard the sound of something coming through the forest. Another heartbeat. One that was fast. In her mind, she had pictured River coming to save her. Just as he had on many occasions back home in California, when they would run through the vast thicket of redwood trees, brush, and land. But when she heard the voice, her eyes shot open. It was the scent that didn’t match though. This girl smelled like a dog, and it had confused Scout. Maybe it had been all the pain she was in causing her to hallucinate, but one thing was for certain, whoever this woman was, she had just pulled a bear trap off of her tiny leg freeing her from her prison. Running was out of the question though, and she didn’t have it in her to try and flee from the blood loss, injury, and fear. There was also the gratitude and debt she knew she would owe from having this stranger save her, and she was bound to repay it somehow.

“Hey, you’re okay now. I’m gonna pick you up and get some help for you, little one. Please don’t bite me.” Scooping up the animal in her arms, Layla slowly stood up as to not jar the fox and its wounded leg.

Her first thought had been animal control, but she feared they were more likely to put down the animal rather than help it, and she wasn’t exactly on the best terms with Kaden at the moment. Instead, she made her way towards Zinnia’s office. The woman had shown grace when Layla had come to pick up Indy after he had escaped from their home. But today was different. Today she was hoping that this poor, defenseless animal forced into agony at the hands of a hunter’s inhumane trap, would find peace and have a fighting chance.

Blood seeping onto her clothes and arms, Layla maneuvered as best she could, forcing the front door to the office open. There didn’t seem to be anyone around, “Zinnia! Zinnia are you here!? I need your help! There’s an injured fox! She was caught in a bear trap in the woods!” Standing at the front counter holding the animal as still as she could, despite her arms wanting to give out, she had hoped the veterinarian would be there.

Zinnia’s day had been nothing out of the ordinary, nothing like the previous week, at least. Things that had gotten stirred were finally finding their calm, a pattern of days. Zinnia was finally able to throw herself back into her usual routine with little disturbance. She preferred it this way. Though, she had accumulated a select few connections, albeit not on her own terms, that found it in themselves to flounder by her side. It was new, and she wasn’t used to it, but all of which came with the same circumstances; saving that of an animal. She couldn’t say no, couldn’t twitch away from the thought of a forced connection. She had to provide her aid, her service-- something she had promised to creatures who couldn’t provide for themselves. She was their safety net, and she would continue to be such.

The clinic door clinked, and Zinnia was moving from around the back, just as she had done during Layla’s previous visit. This time, she had no dog in the back room. This time, the red head was bringing her a creature, its paw bloodied and mauled. “What happened?” She asked as she crossed the distance. Alcher’s words trickled into the front of Zinnia’s mind, cousin. But this wasn’t a cousin, this was a family member-- they had the same blood, the same form. This poor creature was a part of her, despite her not knowing its pathways in life. She crossed the distance between herself and Layla and hurriedly took the fox into her arms, careful of its paw. If it bit her, she’d heal. Zinnia rushed it to the back room, setting it onto the table carefully. “Lay still,” Zinnia cooed quietly as she examined the fox’s paw. “How long do you believe it’s been like this?” She asked Layla aloud, barely registering whether or not the younger woman had gone into the examination room with her.

Solace fell over Layla’s form once she laid eyes on Zinnia. She knew the woman was someone that could help the small fox, and the teenager wanted nothing more than to see it saved, “I heard a loud noise in the distance and took off running. When I got there, I saw she was stuck in a bear trap.” She carefully passed the fox off to the woman, quite unsure of what type of creature she was, until she noticed the smell of the fox was similar to that of Zinnia. That conversation could wait for another time.

Without thinking, Layla followed the veterinarian back to the room, where she watched the woman lay the wounded animal on the table, “I don’t think she had been stuck for too long, because of how sudden the noise was. I would’ve heard it sooner. I can promise you that. Can you help her?”

Scout was fading in and out of consciousness as she felt her body being carried through the woods. When she was able to open her eyes once more, she had found herself in the arms of another person. Someone who smelled familiar. Whimpering softly with quivering breath, the small huxian lay at the mercy of this woman’s hands. It was the cold exam room table that alerted her of where she was. A vet or doctor’s office. Somewhere she could trust knowing her own father had come from a medical background as well as herself. But it didn’t ease the pain. She was hyper aware of everything when she was awake and letting out a few low barks had left her weaker than before. You’re like me. Help me.

“A bear trap? Zinnia asked, an incredulous expression flitting over her features. “I thought--” She bit her tongue. She had made moves to remove all of the traps throughout the woods, or what she could find. There was no stopping a hunter looking for a kill, she supposed. “I can help her, but I’m going to need you to leave. There’s no telling if she has rabies.” Zinnia glanced over her shoulder, “I’m appreciative that you brought her in, and I will let you know how she is tomorrow, okay? Please go wash up.” She nodded at the blood soaked shirt before she turned her attention back to the fox.

Zinnia continued to assess the injuries to the fox’s leg. She would need to heal it, and heal it fast, otherwise she would more than likely have a break that’d set her up for failure in the woods. It wasn’t like she couldn’t take the fox back to her farm, but if she could help her now, and diminish the pain? Zinnia glanced over her shoulder at Layla, “Let me walk you out.” Just in case the girl decided to linger. She motioned for the younger girl to follow her to the door. “You did well. Go home, change, scrub this off of your skin.” She forced a smile. She needed to help the fox as soon as possible, and the longer that Layla hung around, the worse off the creature would be and more energy it’d take Zinnia to actually help her.

Tears hovered on the brims of Layla’s eyes. She was concerned deeply for the animal, but she knew Zinnia was right. It needed help, and honestly, the teenager had seen enough wounded and dead animals via her parents to last an entire lifetime. Besides, the smell of fresh blood was causing her mouth to water; an unfortunate side effect of being a werewolf, and if she didn’t leave, there was a good chance the fox (and possibly Zinnia) wouldn’t survive, “You’re-you’re right. I just want her to be okay. Promise you’ll call me and let me know how she is?” She followed the woman to the front door without any hesitation. And when she had gotten the answers she needed, she left, feet moving faster than they had earlier with hopes of making it home without anyone seeing the blood on her.

Back in the other room, Scout could feel herself getting woozy from the pain. As a fox, she was small, quick and agile. She could heal herself somewhat quicker, but it usually took time, especially with an injury as bad as this, but at least, if she could shift, she thought that maybe the pain wouldn’t be quite so bad. The healing part on the other hand…

Closing her eyes, Scout pulled what focus she could and let her body begin to shift and mold back into that of a human. Normally, not quite as painful, this time had felt different. But she was back to herself, “Just...I need...something…” Her mind was racing. She was sweating and confused. Did she need to clean the wound first or wrap it? Her training as a paramedic had gone out the door, and instead, she found herself rolling off the table and onto the floor with a hard thud, “Fuck!” At this point it didn’t matter who had heard her. She was just desperate for the pain of a crushed ankle and leg that was dangling, rather than functioning, to go away.

Zinnia nodded at Layla, “I will let you know. Thank you for bringing her in.” Zinnia waited until Layla’s retreating figure was far enough away before she turned on her heel to go back into the examination room. A loud thud sent fear down Zinnia’s spine as she hurried towards the door. Had it gotten scared and jumped down? If it had damaged its paw even more, there was only so much that Zinnia could do for the creature if it was too far gone.

Just as she turned back down the hallway and to the examination room, she stared wide eyed at a naked woman on the ground. The fox was nowhere to be seen. “Oh--” Zinnia gasped aloud. She held onto the doorframe. This woman was like her. Zinnia stared for a beat of a second too long before she walked into the room, careful yet steady strides. “Stay still. Don’t move.” Zinnia grabbed a towel from underneath the cabinet and draped it over the woman’s frontside before she knelt down next to the brunette. “Don’t move,” She hissed again. She wasn’t going to make a show about how this woman was like her, there was no point. Her foot, just as it had been in her fox form, was still mangled in human form. “It looks like your foot is broken,” Zinnia said aloud as she kept her gaze trained on the woman’s injury. “Because you’re like me, I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt.” She flicked her gaze up to meet the woman’s, “If you cross me, you will pay. Understood?”

Scout was already trying to slide her way out, but the feeling of bare skin on a cold tile floor wasn’t pleasant and the sound was worse. She didn’t get far though, and instead laid weary eyes on the veterinarian who had found her way back into the room. The woman who had smelled similar to Scout. Laying back in defeat, she weakly embraced the towel, grateful for the cover it had brought to her bare skin, “Don’t move? I don’t think I’m going anywhere on this fucked up thing, Lady.” She looked down at her own mangled foot and dry heaved just a little at the sight of it. Seeing other people’s injuries, she was fine with, but her own, and she was already turning as pale as the ceiling tiles hanging above. Laying onto the floor flat on her back, she replied, “Why would I want to cross my own kind? I’m not...I’m not evil, okay? My intentions are good. And we both know, I’m going to owe you a favor after all is said and done.” It was a lot to say, and it came out slow and with effort, but she had meant every word of it.

Zinnia’s lips twitched at the ‘lady’ comment, but she resisted the urge to make a comment, because what good would it do? It was clear that the woman was in pain. The brunette’s ability to speak was a gentle reminder as to why she preferred working with actual animals, not shifters, like herself. Though she had a duty to heal this woman, they were kin in a way. Alcher’s words came to mind as she observed the brunette’s foot. As she began to speak again, she flicked her gaze over to watch her expression before she pursed her lips. “Yes, and typically that would make sense, but the world is full of class act manipulators.” Zinnia tentatively reached out for the woman’s foot, careful to avoid the bruised parts, and closed her eyes. She channeled as much energy as she could into the bones, and then into the lacerations. Without opening her eyes, she knew that there was a golden hue illuminating her hands, burrowing deep into the woman’s foot. After a minute or so, she released her hold on the girl’s foot and leaned back, exhaustion curling at her fingertips as they twitched. “You should be okay now.” Zinnia rubbed her forehead with the back of her arm, wicking away the beads of sweat that had formed.

Scout watched Zinnia carefully and with narrowed eyes. In that moment, she knew she was being too trusting. She had heard of nogitsune and the havoc they could wreak, but she was desperate, and she had just wanted the pain to stop, “How do I know you’re not nogitsune? Trust isn’t just a one way street, you know?” Feeling Zinnia place her hands on the mangled foot, Scout winced and moaned in pain, “I don’t think there’s any resetting this thing, if that’s what your plan is.” Tears rolled down her cheeks as she tensed up. However, before she could say anything else, she noticed the bright light coming from the other kitsune’s hands. Her eyes were wide in amazement. It was the first time she had ever encountered a River kitsune, “Kawa…” She watched in a sort of trance, and when all was said and done, she blinked a few times realizing that she was no longer in pain. All that remained was dried blood, “Besides my brother and my family, you’re the only other kitsune, I’ve been around…Thank you.” Her voice was soft and genuine. No fear or stress apparent any longer, “Just let me know when you need me. I’ll be there.” She let her hand fall to her ankle and leg as she had previously felt where the teeth of the bear trap had sliced skin, tendons, muscle, and bone. Now, it looked as if nothing had ever happened.

Truth be told, Zinnia didn’t know all too much about her lineage. She couldn’t remember her parents-- if she had any, that was. Her life had started well into her teens. Anything before that wasn’t worth mentioning. She knew of nogitsune, though-- had been advised to steer clear. There was a clear separation between herself, and whatever they were capable of. “I could say the same to you, couldn’t I?” Zinnia finally commented back after she released her hold on the woman’s leg. “I suppose I should say the same-- I haven’t run… into anybody else, not like me. You.” It was different, the sense of purpose Zinnia now had. The help she had provided Scout wasn’t bogged down by the idea that she was helping somebody who… potentially, shouldn’t have been assisted in the first place. Zinnia observed the way that Scout pressed her fingers into her skin. “It might still be sore, like a residual injury, but overall, your bone will have fixed itself as well as any bleeding.” Zinnia moved towards the sink after taking her gloves off, scrubbing her hands. “What’d you run into anyways?” She asked, hyper aware that they might have something a little more sinister on their hands.

Zinnia was right. Scout hit a tender part and winced slightly, before shifting her weight around and slowly getting up off of the floor. The sheet was providing her only coverage, and she made sure to wrap it around tightly. With a slight limp, she moved back towards the table, she had previously resided on, and put her weight on it for some relief from the lingering bit of pain, “Honestly, you’re the first for me. I mean, besides my family.” She glanced down at the floor thinking of her brother, her parents, and grandmother. Running headfirst towards their problem as a family hadn’t been the smartest move, but she was determined to bring some resolve to the murder of her brother. Glancing up, she put her troubles aside, “A bear trap. I thought those damn things had been outlawed.” She looked back down to her leg, before letting her eyes fall on Zinnia again, “Have you not had any other victims come in yet?”

Zinnia didn’t remember much about her family, didn’t remember much about who was like her, or who wasn’t. She didn’t remember if she had any siblings, any aunts or uncles. She had pushed the majority of those memories out when she had lost herself. It had taken a bit to come back from whatever had happened, but she was here now, wasn’t she? “I’m wondering how many more of us there are, now. If you��re here, I mean.” It could either be a good, or bad thing. Zinnia knew that the town, supposedly, was crawling with hunters. Some of which whose soul purpose was to take out werewolves, or even vampires, but there was always a price tag on a hide like hers. “A bear trap?” She asked, tilting her head. Not only would that be dangerous for individuals like herself, but regular animals, too. Zinnia made a note to tell Kaden that somebody was putting out traps. Maybe he could investigate as to who it was. Besides, she wanted a reason to check in about Abel. “No, nothing else has come in with the same injury, or claims of a bear trap.” She ducked into an adjacent cabinet and grabbed an extra pair of scrubs she kept before returning to Scout, handing them over. “What part of the woods were you in?”

How many. That was a good question, and one Scout wished she had known the answer to, but no one else in this town evoked the same feelings in her as Zinnia did. The moment she was around her, she could sense something different, “Good question, but so far you’re the only other kitsune I’ve come across. And I’ve encountered a lot of damn people since I’ve been here.” Working at a bar had given her that opportunity, whether or not she had realized it at the time. “Yep. Pretty certain of it, until some rando redhead came along with inhuman strength and freed me. What are they putting in school lunches these days? Hulk juice?” she noticed the scrubs being offered and gladly took them. Dropping the sheet shamelessly, she quickly put them on, “Thanks. Wasn’t really looking forward to doing the walk-of-shame through town covered in blood and a sheet.” She folded the soiled fabric and placed it on the table, “As for the woods...uh, behind the University more so on the side of the river. I hate to say it, but maybe the reason you haven’t had more animals come in could be, because heroic teenagers don’t often roam the woods enough to find them, before their hunter does.” Scout’s own words since shivers down her spine.

Inhuman strength. Zinnia made a note of that, wondering exactly what kind of inhuman strength they were dealing with. It seemed as though the majority of those that Zinnia had run into weren’t human at all, but something entirely different. She wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing, all things considered. “Beyond the university?” Zinnia pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth, deep in thought. She would need to go investigate. It wasn’t her job, but the last thing she wanted was for another individual to run into the same issue that Scout had found herself in. Any creature, for that matter, may find themselves in a worse position. “I’ll take care of them.” Zinnia looked up to meet Scout’s gaze. What if Scout had been found by somebody other than Layla? What would have happened then? Shifting back to prove she was human could only do so much-- either scare the hunter, or make him realize he had caught more than dinner. “I’m just glad that you were brought here and not somewhere else.” She was glad to know that Layla had had the common sense to do so, and not take Scout to a sanctuary of some kind. “I’ll be keeping in touch,” Zinnia said after a moment. “I believe it’s probably best that we do, all things considered.” She smiled at Scout. “Is there anything that you need? A ride?”

Whatever she had the unfortunate bad luck of stumbling into, Scout didn’t want for anyone or anything else. She was lucky some kid was out in the forest for a run. She was lucky she had found Zinnia, a fellow Kitsune. So much could have gone wrong, but somehow, a guardian angel was watching out for her. It had also given her the head’s up that she needed to be more careful. This town wasn’t anything like the place she had grown up in. The people here were different and seemed more aware that the things that went bump in the night, weren’t just in your head, “If you need backup, just let me know. Name’s Scout, by the way.” Grabbing a pen and random piece of paper from nearby, she scribbled down her number. “If I hear anything I’ll let you know.” She passed the number to Zinnia. “As far as I know, there’s only two of our kind here. You and me, we gotta stick together.” She had come here on a mission, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t take on side quests, and if it meant saving others like her, then it wouldn’t be in vain, “And uh, there’s a lot of things I need, but right now, a ride would be great.”

#chatzy #para: the foxes & the hound #para: layla #para: scout

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hashoterhatov · 3 years

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A new perspective | נקודת מבט חדשה

He's the bad guy, and the fact that you're a cop won't change that. However, some things are worth fighting for, despite your differences.

Where Eitan shows up at the police station to apologise to you and promises you to be a better man.

Eitan Konfino X Female Reader

“You look like you haven’t slept in days.” Your head shot up from your desk and you were suddenly wide awake - in front of you stood Korin, her arms crossed, a worried expression on her face. “Are you alright, (Y/n)?”

A heavy sigh left your lips as you rubbed your eyes, hanging your head in shame. “I’m sorry about falling asleep. Don’t tell Rabi, please.” “Of course not.” she reassured you, “After all, Dubi sleeps on the job all the time, and he’s still here.”

For now, at least, you pondered about the whispers of Dubi’s rumoured resignation whilst leaning back into your chair, exhaling deeply whilst reaching for the papers you had been resting your head on, shuffling them into a neat pile.

“You never sleep on the job.” Korin mentioned, “Really, what’s going on? Is everything alright at home?”

You turned away and muttered something under your breath before shoving your chair closer to your desk, proceeding to grab a pen and start writing down some notes. “What was that?” Korin carefully quizzed, unable to hear you.

“I had a falling out with Eitan.” you said. “Time and time again, I’ve asked him to change his ways. The shady stuff, the strange businesses...”

“My brother will never change.” Danny invaded your conversation, entering the office with two cups of coffee in hand. “I enjoy having you as my future sister-in-law, (Y/n), but you need to know that he won’t change for you.” He handed one of the cups to Korin, then looked at the other one as if contemplating whether to give it to you, but upon noticing your somber expression, he placed it next to you. “Here, this will do you good.”

“Well, thanks for the reassurance, Danny.” you sighed. “At least you’ve got my back.”

“I would just hate to see you hurt.”

You turned to the picture on your desk - taken in Paris, you and Eitan, happily smiling at the camera. It had been your fourth anniversary, the vacation on which he asked you to marry him. Last summer seemed so long ago, especially with the knot of dread now growing in your gut ever since last night.

“(Y/n).” Yaacov Rabi’s head poked around the door and found you slouched at your desk. “There is someone for you.”

Your eyes widened. “Is it Eitan?” “Yes, and-” “Please tell him to go away.”

“He insisted that he needed to speak with you.”

“What is there to say?”

Catching a glimpse of your fiancé from behind the door, your heart clenched in your chest. His usual smug smirk was not present on his face, nor the scowl he usually wore when he was discontent with something. It was unusually sullen, and he captured your gaze for just a second.

You rose from your chair, brushing past Korin and Danny, who were looking from you to Rabi still standing on the threshold. “Do you need me to send him in?” “Let him go to the interrogation room.” you suggested, crossing your arms. “I will be right with him.”

Rabi closed the door on you and you immediately buried your face in your hands. A frustrated sigh left your lips and you threw your head into your neck, groaning.

“What happened, exactly?” Korin asked, “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“He didn’t cheat on you, did he?” Danny quizzed, anger growing in his voice.

“Of course not.” you told him, “If he had done so, I would’ve let you know.”

You paused, scratching your upper arm awkwardly. “He ah… Eitan came home drunk last night. He had been drinking with Meyron. Wanted me to spend all the money we’ve been saving on some new invention Mey came up with. I said no, and he yelled at me, and he slept on the couch.”

“Well, that’s nothing different.” Danny commented, earning a death glare from you. “It’s a good thing you didn’t accept though. Meyron and his ideas have always been a little fishy to me.” he quickly added, rubbing his neck. “Remember the Torpita incident?”

“I’m going to the interrogation room to see what he wants.” you said, ignoring his question, making your way towards the main hall. “Good luck.” Korin told you, sincere worry audible in her voice.

You rested your hand on the doorknob before slowly opening it, Eitan sitting with his back turned to you. On the wall next to you, the one-sided see-through mirror reflected the expression on his face. Despite the bags underneath his eyes, he looked as ruggedly handsome as you knew him.

He turned around in his seat to face you, though still resting his arms on the table. You let out a shaky breath and approached him, folding your hands on your back.

“What are you doing here?” you asked with a cold voice. “I wanted to see you,” he explained. “I’m here to apologise.” “Here? You couldn’t have waited until I came back home from work?”

His eyes found yours and you felt your breath hitch for a second before you continued to walk around him, halting in front of the table, now fully turning to him. “I felt like you deserved an apology sooner than later.”

“Don’t you have a massive hangover?” you asked bitterly, “Shit, you were just so wasted last night.”

“I can fix it.”

“Can you?”

Your voice was so sharp that it made him stare at you for a few seconds in complete silence, lips slightly ajar before he blinked, shaking his head. “I understand that you’re mad, but please, give me another chance.”

“You insisted that I had to give my hard earned money, which I’ve been sitting on for such a long time, to your brother who has a shady business in the US somewhere!”

“I know, it was stupid. But it sounded like such a good idea yesterday and I couldn’t think straight. I never should’ve brought it up. I never should’ve gotten drunk. I never should’ve yelled at you.”

He swallowed thickly before resuming. “I’m sorry.” he said, “I really am.”

You rubbed your forehead in frustration, hiding the tears on the cusp of falling. “It’s always the same with you, Eitan. I love you, but… I will always be a cop, and despite you being my fiancé, I still disapprove of the businesses you meddle in.”

“I know.” “So why do you still do it?” you quizzed. “I don’t know.” he whispered. “It’s a vicious circle I can’t get out of, I…”

His gaze dropped to the table, where his hands were laid flat on the surface.

“I’ve been thinking and I’m certain of it. I need help, (Y/n). I want to change for you. You deserve a husband who loves you and can take care of you the correct way.”

Your eyes locked with his, yours filled with confusion, and then relief. “You will?”

“Of course.” he said, smiling a little. “Meeting you… Wanting you as my wife... I’ve always looked for purpose. Sought it in money, in gambling, in a lot of illegal activities, but… You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. I want to be the husband you deserve, I want to be a father who our future children can be proud of.”

He reached forward towards you, even though there was still a table in between.

“Stand up.” you told him, and he did, before walking around the desk to face you.

“Can you forgive me?” he whispered, lowering himself on his knees. With his height, you only had to tilt your head down slightly, and you saw genuine guilt in his eyes.

“Please,” he whispered, “(Y/n), I want to change. I want to be the man you deserve.”

You sighed and cupped his cheek, softly stroking it. “I forgive you.” A smile broke out on his face, and you couldn’t help but mimic the expression. He wrapped his arms around you, still sitting on his knees, and embraced you tightly.

“I couldn’t be any happier.” he sighed as you buried your hand in his dark hair, fondly scraping your fingers against his scalp. You leaned down a little to kiss him and lightly brushed your lips against his, his fingers sliding up to your sides.

“Eti,” you whispered as he popped the first button of your light blue blouse, nimbly undoing the black radio off your shoulder. “What are you doing?”

He huffed out a laugh and moved to claim your mouth, tongue immediately requesting entry.

“Eti…” you warningly spoke, but it only spurred him on, his fingers undoing your shirt half-way, slipping into the heat of your bra. “I love it when you talk in that officer-voice of yours. It’s sexy…” he purred, softly sucking on your neck.

You threw your head back at the feeling and he nipped at your bare skin, smiling against you as he stood, arms wrapping around your butt to lift you up in the process - since he stood well above you, it was sometimes a bit tricky to kiss like this, but you were as light as a feather to him, making it no problem.

“Fuck, want to bend you over that interrogation table so badly.” Eitan murmured, hands unclasping your belt. “Make you feel so good…”

“I’m at work, babe…” you sighed, “We can’t…” “We’ll be quick. They won’t walk in on a private conversation.”

His dark eyes found yours, and the boyish smile on his face made your heart melt. “Okay,” you breathed, “Don’t make it too long.”

There was humour tangible in your voice and so he placed you upon the floor, having to break the up-close contact. Your hands felt small around the edge of his jeans, yet you undid them with practised ease. A tell-tale bulge pressed against the denim. You pushed it to his knees and brought your hand to cup his erection through his briefs, which was swelling steadily with need.

With a soft laugh, Eitan guided you towards the table, pressing against your lower back to bend you over it. You moved your pants down to reveal the glistening heat of your core, already preparing for him. “All for me?”

“No,” you joked, earning a sharp slap on your ass from him. You let out a sound between a yelp and a laugh. “You’re cheeky…” you sighed as he slipped off his underwear, taking his heavy length in his hand, pumping it up and down a few times before slipping a finger into your cunt, testing out your response.

“You’re so wet…” he grunted, “Fuck…” You wiggled your ass against him, his cock slipping between your asscheeks, soon resting on your lower back.

Eitan wasted no time - people would come looking - and so he entered you smoothly, and he bottomed out in one movement. You let out a soft moan, moving your hips into him. His fingers gripped at your ass, pulling you back against his body.

He hissed through his teeth and began thrusting into you at a steady pace.

The sound of skin slapping skin echoed through the room as he pounded into you relentlessly, hand slipping around your waist to fondle your clit. The girth of him never failed to split you in half, stuffing you to the brim.

“You’re so tight, baby.” Eitan groaned, gasping for air as you gripped on the desk, letting yourself completely be controlled by his strong hold on you. Your clit throbbed underneath his fingers and you inhaled sharply, stifling your moan as well as you could.

He swelled inside of you, nearly causing you to cum instantly. Pulses coursed through his length, making your toes tingle. The hand that had been fondling your clit came to rest on the back of your head, pulling your hair in a way that was just perfect.

“Eti…” you mewled, “You make me feel so good…”

He gritted his teeth and had to withhold every fibre of his being from orgasming at this very moment - he removed himself from your depths, instantly causing you to turn around as the grip on your hair faded, “Hey!” you said with indignance in your voice, but he soon turned you around to scoop you up again.

You wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you to the wall - the glass of the mirror was cool against your ass as he pressed you against it gently. He slotted his cock fully inside of you again with one fluid motion as a groan fell against your lips. “You’re so perfect.” he whispered, “You’re worth everything .”

Tangling your fingers in his dark, tousled hair, you let out a gasp when he slammed his hips against yours, edging you ever closer to the point of climax. “Everything bad I’ve ever done,” he grunted, teeth on your throat, “Everything terrible I’ve ever done to others… When I met you, the world seemed to shift. It’s like seeing things from a new perspective.”

Your heart swelled at the velvety words and you would nearly forget that he was fucking you against the wall, lips nibbling at the lobe of your ear, the searingly hot huffs of your breaths fiilling your senses.

“I love you, Eti…” you told him. “And I love you,” he responded, “But I think you know.”

A sweet smile tugged at your lips and Eitan pressed his forehead against yours, looking your deep into the eye. His brow furrowed, lips trembling slightly as his pace faltered - a bit more uneven at the trembling of his cock.

You sighed, felt a brush of fingers against your clit, and you came with a soft moan, your delicious blush spurring Eitan on to release himself inside of you. He stilled against you and coaxed you through your high, pleasure making your mind hazy.

“You’re so beautiful.” he told you within a huff of air as he tried catching his breath, and you smiled softly before kissing him.

He carefully placed you down, leaning towards your face to keep his lips attached to yours.

So you stood, cum leaking out and drying on the insides of your thighs, a few minutes living just this moment .

After some intense snogging, you withdrew yourself from him, lips swollen from the kiss and body warm with happiness.

Wordlessly, you helped each other redress. Eitan found a tissue in his jeans and wiped you clean with it, tidying you up as well as he could. You opted to redo your hair to look a bit more presentable, but your current state was so dishevelled that you didn’t doubt everyone would see through it.

“There will be a surprise once you get back home.” Eti told you, “Something to look forward to.”

Smiling, you smoothed out a bit of his hair. “That sounds wonderful.”

He kissed you chastely for a second before you pulled back, softly fingering the fabric of his shirt. It was really time to go back to work now.

Turning to the door, you went to leave the interrogation room.

“(Y/n), back so soon?” Danny said with a huff of annoyance at the sight of his brother, who appeared behind you. “How did you get on?”

“We’ve made it up.” you told him. “Have you, now?” he quizzed, raising an eyebrow. Behind him, Dubi cleared his throat, avoiding eye-contact with you. Self-consciously, you smoothed your hands down your blouse and tucked some hair behind your ear. “Yes, what of it?”

“Razi, I told you to disinfect that table right now, I don’t want to touch-- (Y/n), uh… Hi!” Rabi appeared from his office and halted in his talking as well as his tracks, a distraught Razi following him outside. You looked at Korin, who averted her gaze, and soon, the only one still looking at you was Danny.

“What’s going on?” you questioned as a pregnant silence fell within the room, Razi soon brushing past you to enter the interrogation room. Rabi cleared his throat and rubbed his neck as Korin looked at her nails. “Seriously.” you pressed, “Why are you acting like--”

Your eye fell on the observation room, from which you could see the interrogation room through the one-sided mirror. The door was slightly open, a few fallen chairs visible through the gap, as if someone had left in a hurry. A packet of pumpkin seeds was scattered over the floor, as if knocked over.

“I’m very grateful that you’ve forgiven me, (Y/n).” Eitan broke the silence, hands coming to rest on your waist as he leaned down to kiss your cheek. “I will see you at home.”

He walked towards the exit, turning once more to your colleagues. “A good day, all of you.”

“Not to you.” Danny deadpanned, eyes still glued on your abashed form. With a wink to you, Eitan left the premises.

“What?” you snapped at Danny as he kept staring. He pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, frowning before walking away.

“There’s red marks on your throat and your fly is undone.”

Your hand immediately shot to your neck, covering up the marred skin.

#hashoter hatov #eitan konfino #danny konfino

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pickybearcub · 4 years

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Getting to know Spider-boy: Chapter 1

Summary: Ten minutes. Ten minutes was all it took. She found his backpack in the alley and left before he got back. Now, before Peter knows it, Ned thinks he has a secret girlfriend and Spiderman has to be her kibble runner.

Pairings: Peter Parker x OC

Warnings: None

A/N: So, just wanted to try posting my story here. It’s actually already complete on FF.net, but I’m going through it and making a edits, mostly to grammar and some inconsistencies in the story. I’ll post every few days, just to put a little time in between each chapter. Here we go...

Note: Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

Chapter 2 Masterlist

Hey mom.

I finally unpacked the last box! So I guess I'm officially moved in. The new place is nice, just like your friend described. It's a little small but more cozy than anything. I really like it. It's really different from the heart of the city. A good kind of different though. I'm looking forward to running at a more normal pace.

I got a part-time job at that café I was telling you about. I'm trying to see where I can get a second job to fill in the gaps.

Glad to hear things are going well over there. Aunt Annie must be glad to have you teaching a few students. Tell me about them when you come around.

Anyway, it's almost time for my shift, so... gotta go. Best of luck to you and everyone there.

Love yah~

Nadia clicked "send" before shutting down her laptop. She pulled her dark hair up into a quick ponytail and slung on her bag while she walked to the door. Locking it, she twirled her keys before shoving them into her bag and jogging to the other end of the hall. She hopped down the stairs two at a time and set a brisk pace to her walk.

The young woman breathed in deeply as she walked through her new neighborhood. Soon, she was passing a few familiar stores and small businesses. A bell gave a cheery jingle as she opened the door to the coffee shop she now worked at.

"Good morning, Hannah."

"Morning, dear." An older woman, the owner, greeted from behind the counter. "You're twenty minutes early again."

Huh…

Nadia shrugged, walking around the dining area, starting to set up the chairs. "It's a step up from the half-hour early and waiting for you to arrive and unlock the door."

Hannah gave a light chuckle. "You know you don't need to be so early, though it is nice."

"It's okay. I think I'm still used to all the rushing around I did back home." Nadia lived most of her life in a fast-paced city. Here in Queens, even if it was just ten kilometers away, everything felt calmer. She didn't have to deal with hellish traffic or the morning rush of people on their way to work.

She'd have to learn to adjust and slow down just a little more.

Another bell chimed as she left another shop later that afternoon. A bookstore to be exact. When her shift had ended at three, she'd gone around to explore more of her neighborhood. She got a little carried away browsing through the titles. Especially when more than half the store was filled with used books.

Nadia always thought that secondhand books were more interesting than brand new ones. Some had various marks left from their previous owners. Notes and highlights, dedications, and dog eared pages. Every once in a while, there would be a piece of paper or two stuck between the pages. Most were older and weren't in circulation anymore, which only added to their value even if they were sold at a cheap price.

The dark-haired girl smiled as she walked. She would definitely go by there again so she could actually buy something-

A heavy thump and a huff pulled Nadia from her thoughts, bringing her attention to a familiar young boy who was tugging at two black garbage bags.

"Hey there, Sora." The ten-year-old looked up, grinning when he saw Nadia. The boy's name was really Shaun, she just called him "Sora" because of the game he was currently addicted to.

"Hi, Dia!"

She'd taken a few babysitting jobs when she first arrived in Queens. Shaun had been one of the kids she’d looked after.

"Isn't it your brother's chore to take out the trash?" She walked to him and tried lifting one bag. It was a bit heavy. Definitely a little too big for Shaun to carry on his own.

The boy huffed again, pouting. "He hid my Nintendo again. He said he'd give it back if I took out the trash this time."

Nadia frowned. That wasn't nice.

"I'm at a good part of the game too." Shaun scuffed his shoe on the ground.

The young woman let a gentle smile onto her features before once again grabbing a hold of one bag. "Why don't I take one, and you grab the other. That way, you can get back to your game faster."

"Okay!" The kid grinned and took hold of the smaller bag.

They both carried the bags to the dumpster in the back alley. When the business was done, the boy thanked her and she told him to tell his parents what his brother had done.

Shaun nodded and scampered back out the alley quickly so he could get his handheld back.

Nadia sighed and dusted off her hands on her pants. That boy never listened to her about telling on his brother, Shaun was too nice.

She was about to walk out of the alley when she noticed her shoelaces were untied. Kneeling down to redo them she spotted something by a corner beside the dumpster.

"A backpack?"

She picked it up by the strap and looked it over. It was dark blue, didn't seem very old, and it was relatively clean. Who would throw out a good bag?

But then… it had some weight to it.

Huh…

Nadia hesitated for a moment before she opened it up. There were a few notebooks, a pen, some spare change, and a few pieces of paper.

This wasn't thrown out. Someone owned this.

No. Someone lost this.

Maybe some kid got bullied and the bullies dumped his backpack here.

She slung the strap on her shoulder. She'd check out the stuff more thoroughly when she got home.

Maybe she'd find an ID or something in one of the pockets. It was starting to get dark, so it wasn't logical to leave the bag and hope whoever owned it found it here. Someone else might take it.

Nadia started walking again and thought about what she was having for dinner that night. There was still some pasta leftover from the day before. That would have to do.

**Ten minutes later**

Peter landed nimbly in the alley where he'd left his bag. He let out a breath as he took off his goggles and mask.

Man. The fabric really made for stuffy breathing after a few hours using it-

Oh no…

He looked down at the empty corner of the alley and groaned.

His backpack was gone.

May would ask him how he lost another backpack after just three weeks. He really needed to find somewhere more secure to leave his stuff when he went on patrol.

On the upside, at least he didn't leave any of his Spider-Man stuff in there.

"New backpack, Peter?" Ned said as he put some of his things in his locker. "That's like the second one this month."

Peter scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah… Uhmmm… A dog chased after me and kinda ripped it."

"Oh! But you're okay right?" Peter's best friend asked, genuinely concerned. "You didn't get bitten, did you? I heard that you get five shots just in case of rabies. Was the dog foaming at the mouth?" He shuddered at the thought.

"No, Ned." Peter chuckled. His friend could get a little easily agitated or overly enthusiastic when it came to asking questions.

"Oh. Okay. Good then." The two walked side by side to their classroom. "You've been a little distracted lately. Maybe that's why the dog got you…." Ned mused.

"Enough about the dog, Ned. Let's just get to class." Peter sighed and tugged at the straps of his new backpack. He didn't like how he had to keep lying to his friend about certain things.

But his powers….

Being Spider-Man…

Knowing Ned, telling him wasn't really the best idea.

Besides, he was still getting used to his powers himself.

Nadia knew just how difficult and irritating it could be to lose your notebooks, especially when you were a student. Taking notes was difficult as it is. She riffled through the backpack she found to see if there was something with a name.

"Peter Parker…" She mumbled, finding a slightly crumpled quiz paper. Why did that name sound so familiar?

Sitting on a stool on her kitchen island, she lazily poked at the bowl of noodles beside the few papers she'd pulled out.

"Wow…" A breath of admiration escaped her as she found two more quizzes. Math and chemistry. He got A's on all of them. "You are one smart cookie."

She pulled out a notebook. Maybe there was some hint of which school he went to. She didn't want to go through the phonebook to ring up every Parker listed there. Flipping through the pages to find a doodle of a school mascot or a randomly scribbled school name or event, she twirled her fork through the pasta she had been eating.

Decathlon tm meeting – Friday

Band practice moved to Tuesdays

So part of a decathlon team and a band… Group of friends or school band?

There probably weren't many of the schools here in Queens that had a decathlon team, right? Academic or athletic though… Ugh…

There had to be something else…

Nadia had just been about to stick the noodles in her mouth when she reached a few pages near the back.

Her fork dropped from limp fingers right onto the paper with a splat.

"Crap!" She quickly tipped the notebook up to get rid of the pasta. There was now a reddish-orange spaghetti sauce stain on the page. She rushed to grab a napkin to clean up the mess before the sauce seeped to the other pages.

Underneath the blotch of pasta sauce were a few calculations, notes, and diagrams. The top of the page read-

Web fluid 1.2

---

Tags:

Well...Tell me if you want to be tagged X]

#fanfic #fanfiction #peter parker #peter parker x oc #oc #original character #friendship #family #getting to know spiderboy #tom holland #marvel #mcu #avengers #homecoming #spiderman #spider-man

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canid-slashclaw · 4 years

Text

The Outliers - A Guild Wars Love Story

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapters 10 and 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16 , Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24, Chapter 25, Chapter 26, Chapter 27, Chapter 28, Chapter 29 Chapter 30

Several months later...

"A little more to the right, darling. Oh wait. That just won't do. Nevermind!" Ariyana shouted as she directed several of her workers to re-hang some garlands.

Moments later, her mate Jestin arrived. "Cakes have arrived, dear. Where would you like them?"

She smiled at her husband then pointed towards two large banquet tables. "Put them right there."

"Wait. Isn't that where Ludrick's smorgasbord is supposed to be?"

Ariyana shook her head in frustration. "Gah! So many things to do and so little time to do them in. Use your imagination, my love. I'm sure you can work out something beautiful in that pretty little head of yours."

***

Daniel Grimwald and Ludrick Crushblow rode atop a wagon as the two of them headed towards the grassy meadow that was adjacent to the base of Thunder Falls. Brad, Cynthia, Navina and Krenesh were there to greet them as the wagon pulled into the pavilion area.

"The meat wagon has arrived," Daniel said as he reached over and pulled off the covers. "Thanks to Ludrick here, everything has been put on ice so it doesn't spoil."

"Crap! That thing must weigh a ton," Krenesh commented as he helped unload the contents.

"One and a half ton, to be exact," Ludrick stated while Navina and Cynthia helped him off the wagon.

Brad chuckled. "You gals got the easy part - helping two hansom males, while, Kren and I are stuck carrying a heap of slaughtered carcasses."

"Good and tasty carcasses at that!" Krenesh reminded him.

"Don't let your friend eat everything before you get to the banquet hall," Cynthia commented.

"Bah! With all the work we've been doing, I just might be tempted."

"She wasn't referring to you, numbskull!" Navina quipped.

"If I find Ama's blowtorch anywhere, I might just make an instameal outta this yummy good stuff."

"Do it and die, Brad!" Cynthia chided as she handed Ludrick his cane.

***

"Mom. This dress makes me look like a bloated quaggan," Rachel grumbled as her mother examined the outfit.

"It looks fine on you, sweetie. Now be a good girl and take those audiophones out of your ears."

"But my favorite band just released this single. I'm one of the first in Claypool to even hear these songs."

Her mother looked around for a styling comb. "Have you seen Katie anywhere?"

"Um. I think she's with your soon-to-be daughter-in-law."

***

"This blue flower looks so pretty in your hair," Katie said as she placed a blue violet in Amalthia's golden mane.

"Can you find me a mirror? I would love to see what it looks like."

The little Grimwald clamored off her lap then was off to find a shiny reflective object.

"Oooo. Shiney! I'm a skritt!"

Amalthia smiled at the precocious child as she coaxed her into holding up the mirror to her face. "Why that's lovely. You know that my people love to eat skritt and I'm going to do the same!"

She laughed then playfully nibbled on Katie's head with her large canine teeth. Kaleb's little sister adored the attention that his mate had showered upon her.

Moments later, Ariyana stepped in. "Darling! You look splendid!"

"Ari! So nice to see you!" Amalthia picked Katie up, carefully planted her on the floor then walked over and gave her friend a big hug.

"I see you have a little helper," the sylvari said, eyeing the little girl.

"Oh yes. I could not have done it without her."

Katie found the wedding veil and ran over to place it on Amalthia's head. Kneeling down, the bride-to-be accepted the gift.

"How's that!"

"Oh my. She is going to put me out of business if she keeps that up," Ariyana said with a laugh.

Shortly thereafter, Cynthia and Navina walked into the room each bearing gifts. After a round of group hugs, the presents were set aside and everyone began to get ready for the upcoming event.

"You really outdid yourself, Ariyana. If my man ever gets around to popping the question, you better believe I'll be paying you a visit," Cynthia smiled as she examined Amalthia's bridal gown.

"I still don't get these human rituals. but hey, if it makes the two of you happy then I'm all in," Navina said with a chuckle.

"Kal is gonna die from a serious boner after seeing you in this. Dang girl! Maybe I should find a wizard who can make me grow horns, fur and a tail. Cause you look drop-dead sexy in this getup." Cynthia jested.

"Oh. I'll be giving him plenty of those both on and after our wedding night," Amalthia said with a wink and a wicked grin.

"What's a boner?" Katie asked innocently.

Everyone was at a loss for words.

***

Kaleb wandered around carrying a half-empty stein of lager while eyeing the tent that his soon-to-be wife was residing in. He took another draught just seconds before Brad approached from behind then clapped him on the shoulder. "The man of the hour! How ya doin' bro?"

The slightly inebriated Kaleb shook his head. "Couldn't be better. It's too bad I can't steal a peak at the misses."

"Don't you know it's bad luck seeing the bride before the wedding?"

Moments later, Daniel, Ludrick and Krenesh made their way to greet the groom-to-be. The elder Grimwald looked at his son, shook his hand then took a carnation from his lapel and placed it though one of Kaleb's buttons.

"That suit fits you well, son. Think you'll be sober enough to say your vows?"

Kaleb nodded and smiled. "I'm just nervously tipsy, that's all. I'll be fine once the ceremony starts."

"You are looking well, Kaleb. I'm sure my cub will agree once she sees you," Ludrick said as he handed the young man a flask of herbal coffee. "This is a quick cure for any hangover. Trust me, I've used it plenty of times."

Krenesh stepped in and shook his head. "You and Ama have got to be the oddest couple on the face of Tyria. But even that is secondary to this even odder ceremony. Bah! This thing is so tight around me I can't even move properly."

Brad and Kaleb laughed.

"I can hunt down Ariyana. I'm sure she'll be able to modify the outfit a bit for ya," Kaleb said.

"Nah. I'll be fine. Besides, the sooner I get out of this thing the better."

Suddenly, Brad burst out laughing as he pointed towards a lone male charr who was dressed in what appeared to be a bridesmaid outfit.

Kaleb looked up and said. "Isn't that..."

"...Tovu." Krenesh buried his head in the palm of his hand and closed his eyes.

"A male charr in a woman's outfit. Now I've seen everything," came Daniel's response.

Ludrick clapped the elder Grimwald on the shoulder and said with a half-chuckle. "I think you and I are going to have to follow your son's lead and have a nice strong drink together."

Daniel nodded in agreement.

"Oh man! I'm never going to forget this day!" Brad said in between his uncontrollable bouts of laughter.

"I wish I could," grumbled Krenesh.

"I seriously wish I could."

***

"Tovu! Over here," Bogo shouted as he beckoned for his partner to come join him.

Being careful not to soil the gown, Tovu gingerly stepped over the tufts of grass trying not to trip in the process.

"You look ravishing in that outfit, Tovu."

His partner frowned. "You think so? Everyone looks at me funny. It's not like our females even wear these kinds of outfits anyway."

"Oh, pay them no mind, you silly furball. My suit is rather plain compared to yours," Bogo said somberly.

"Nonsense! That tie brings out the color of your eyes so well."

"You think so? I think it makes me look kinda drab."

Off in the distance, someone was shouting something about where the other bridesmaid was. Tovu's ears pricked out upon hearing the message.

"Sorry big boy. They're calling me. See you at the altar, you big snuggly beast!"

Bogo waved back and winked at his partner. "Give Ama my love!"

***

Amalthia busied herself putting on the finishing touches to her wedding gown. Everyone else had gone to their respective dressing rooms in order to prepare for the upcoming ceremony. As she was braiding the last lock of her long golden mane, she heard someone scratching at the other end of the tent door.

"Come in."

When she looked up, she saw the Grimwald middle child standing before her. She had a pair of audiophones plugged into her ears and appeared to be jamming out to some type of music.

"Oh. Hello, Rachel."

There was an awkward silence for a moment before the teenager responded.

"Hi."

Amalthia smiled then handed her a comb. "Mind helping me with this last strand? It's always a bitch to tame."

The teen was taken aback by the charr's crassness. "Uh, okay."

"I won't bite. I promise," Amalthia said with a noticeable display of her large teeth.

Rachel summoned her courage to speak.

"You don't have rabies, do you?"

"I got my shot yesterday. Doctor said the medicine should take effect within the next week."

"So you do have it."

"You assume much about me, don't you? I never said I did or did not have what you thought I had. Now are you going to help me with that braid or are you going to just stand there wishing you really could just tell your mother to screw off," Amalthia said with a smirk.

The girl was completely speechless.

"Oops. Did I let that slip? Oh well, it must be lagers in me," she pointed to an empty stein by her vanity.

"You really are a lush," Rachel said laconically as she slowly reached her hand towards the charr's golden mane.

"Eh. You can blame my mother for that. I sure do."

"So is your mom mean?"

Amalthia closed her eyes and grinned. "She is as sweet as cyanide in a wine glass and as pleasant as an acidic enema."

Rachel couldn't help but laugh.

"So your face is capable of cracking a smile," Amalthia said.

"Well, even though I don't like you, at least we have one thing in common. My mom pisses me off a lot," Rachel said angrily.

"So what is it about her that pisses you off?"

Rachel shrugged.

"She makes me attend church and tells me the music I'm listening to is made by a bunch of blasphemers."

Amalthia looked closer at the audio box that Rachel was listening to. She noticed the name of the band that was stamped on one of the removable cartridges.

"SynR J-TX. I know their music."

"You do? I'll bet you haven't heard their latest album. My friend knows a friend who knows a friend who works with the band. I was able to get a fresh cut of their latest release."

Rachel switched to another track and began jamming out on that. Amalthia reached over then clicked on the audio box, switching it to another track.

"Hey!"

"Just listen. You've heard the extended release, right?" Amalthia asked.

The teen shook her head.

"They did a remix just recently. So recent, in fact, it hasn't even been cut yet."

"And how do you possibly know this?"

Amalthia gave the girl a wide grin. "I do live in a tavern. It's amazing what I hear sometimes."

"I like their fifth track. It's got a really cool beat."

"It does. Can you dance?"

Rachel nodded. "Well, yeah. Can you??"

The bride-to-be stood up then offered her hand to Rachel, inviting her to dance.

"Watch me!"

Both girls were dancing in sync. Rachel showed one of her moves while Amalthia mimicked her at every step. Soon, they were dancing like a pair of professionals in harmony with the rhythm of the beat.

"How much do you hate your mother?" Rachel asked as they were choreographing their moves.

Amalthia stopped dancing then beckoned for Kaleb's sister to come over to the vanity. She, then' pulled out an old parchment that featured an array of images that she drew when she was still a cub.

"When I was in my fahrar, we were asked to draw what we would do to our enemies once we were old enough to go into battle. Everyone else drew either, Flame Legion, humans, ogres or some other hideous creature," Amalthia smiled deviously. "I, on the other hand, was a bit more creative."

She handed Rachel the parchment that depicted a child-like drawing of one charr cutting off another charr's head.

"That was me beheading my mother with a broadsword. I colored the blade brown in order to depict the blade as being rusty and dull."

Rachel looked at the images, stunned. Amalthia pointed to another one that appeared to show a charr getting blown to pieces by an explosion.

"Oh. I drew that one hoping my mother would, someday, step on a land mine and blow herself up. See the bones and entrails?"

"Um. Dare I ask what this one is?"

Amalthia looked at the image of a darkened charr and laughed. "That one was Mother getting charbroiled by a flamethrower. Get it? Charrbroiled?"

"You are one sick kitten!" Rachel said in her characteristic monotone voice.

"If I am then why haven't you run away?"

Rachel shrugged. "I dunno. I guess you are like a shipwreck. Horrible to watch but I can't take my eyes off it."

"I have the suspicion it's something else. My guess is you resent your mother but are too afraid to tell her so openly," Amalthia stated.

"How would you know? You no nothing about me!" Rachel retorted angrily.

"Oh. I know a mother-hater when I see one. Trust me on this."

"I don't hate my mom."

"But you do resent her for what she's done to you. Always being obligated to live up to those expectations, while your brother doesn't seem to give a damn?"

"Well, maybe. Mom always did get on Kals case about doing things his way. I hate him for being able to resist our mom's authority," Rachel said as tears began to well up in her eyes.

"It's okay, Rachel. Let it out. That's what I did when I was a cub. I let out all my rage and anger through my drawings. Looking back, it was very therapeutic for me," Amalthia said as she rolled up the illustrations then put them back into the drawer.

"Okay, okay. I really think you aren't so bad now. I thought your people were always evil. But in talking to you like this, you seem almost human."

Amalthia smiled and gently reached for Rachel's face in an attempt to wipe her tears away. "I've learned that all intelligent races share the same basic emotions. Even though we each express them in different ways, all of us still feel love, sadness, apprehension and loneliness."

Rachel broke down then cried as she buried her head in Amalthia's chest. The charr gave her a gentle hug as she switched tracks to a more melodious song and began a slow dance with her future sister-in-law.

***

Ulfgar thumbed through the sermon, doing some last-minute revisions as needed. Daniel walked up to the massive norn as his son helped Ludrick navigate across the uneven ground.

"Ah. Three of the finest gentlemen I know. Are you ready for the big one, boy?" The old norn said with a hearty tone.

"When is anyone ever ready? I can't wait to see what Ama's dress looks like. Any idea where my sister's at?" Kaleb asked as he anxiously looked around for the ring bearer.

"Amalthia is giving Rachel the rings now. I think you'll like her attire, Kaleb," Ludrick said with a satisfactory nod.

"Father. Where's mom?"

"She's paying your future wife a visit. It's one of those mother-daughter sort of things." Daniel looked at his son with an air of pride and smiled.

"Take a deep breath, lad. This is supposed to be a legendary occasion, not a funeral."

"Sorry about that, Ulf. It's not the wedding itself that has me uptight so much as seeing so many folks here all in one place. I know that things started off very rocky for everyone, and this whole thing still feels so unreal. Never in a million years did I think we would ever come this far."

Ulfgar patted Kaleb on the shoulder. "And come far, you did. You and Amalthia are the first marital union in Tyira between human and charr. That is no small feat in and of itself."

His father gave him a reassuring hug as well. "Ulfgar's right, son. Through everything, you've never wavered in your conviction. This is as proud a day for me as it is for you and your bride."

Ludrick gave his future-son-in-law a pat on the shoulder as well then saluted with his fist to his chest. "Kaleb. Two years ago, you walked through that door in my butcher shop and everything I had ever known changed forever. You brought light into my cub's heart and hope to this old warrior once more. Even though you may not have fur, large teeth or horns, I feel that deep down you are as much of a charr as I am. If there is anyone on the face of Tyria who is worthy of my cub, it is you Kaleb Grimwald."

Everyone heard a noticeable sniffle coming from the mighty norn. "Baw! You've done and gotten me all sentimental ya old warbeast."

Kaleb gave the charr a tight bear hug as tears dribbled from his eyes and onto his future father-in-law's dark orange fur.

***

The usher called into Amalthia's tent letting her know that the ceremony would begin within the hour. As she was finishing up some last minute details, the usher also stated that Shirley Grimwald wanted to see her privately.

"She may come in."

The tent door opened and in walked Kaleb's mother, who was dressed in a conservative plain long dress. She approached her soon-to-be daughter-in-law then quietly pulled up a chair as she sat directly in front of her.

"That sylvari did an impeccable job making that dress," Shirley said as she began straightening out the pleats along the front.

Amalthia helped her with the hem. "That she did. I really like what she did to the backside. It doesn't bunch up around my tail at all. Not that such a thing is an issue with your people."

Shirley paused for a moment before responding. "About that topic Miss Steelblade..."

"Grimwald-Steelblade, if you don't mind. And Mrs please. It's a title we will all have to get used to," Amalthia said without looking at Kaleb's mother.

Shirley struggled to make conversation. "Please understand, Amalthia. I know you and I do not see eye-to-eye on a lot of things. But I also know that my son thinks the world of you, even though I have yet to understand what he sees that I don't."

"And your point, Mrs. Grimwald?"

Shirley could no longer contain her emotions. "Dammit! I still don't understand why my son picked a woman who is as rude and crass as you. If I were a man, I would object to this whole affair before either of you could take your first vows. That's what I would do, Miss Steelblade."

Amalthia shook her head then said in an unemotional tone. "But you are not a man, thank Pyreshot. I would like to like you, Mrs. Grimwald, but what you've presented me so far hasn't given me reason for changing my perception of you."

"So just what is your perception of me, Amalthia?"

"I think you are a woman who is deathly fearful of change. Look. I did not choose to intentionally seek out a human lover. My love for Kaleb just happened. Not everything that we are taught is necessarily the right path. There are some among us, of all races in fact, who travel to the beat of a different drum. Kaleb and I are such people. The sooner you accept that fact, the sooner you will feel a greater sense of happiness."

"I am trying to accept this, I really am. It's just so hard knowing that he is giving up his chance of having children who are his own. You are giving up your chance as well. Who's to say if this whole thing wears off you won't go..."

"Stop right there, Mrs. Grimwald. In case you were never informed, I cannot even bear children of my own. A war wound saw to that. Here, I'll show you. I developed an infection in my uterus that all but ruined my reproductive ability." Amalthia promptly lifted up her dress then showed Shirley the small scar that crossed her lower abdomen.

Stunned, Mother Grimwald said nothing as she reached out to touch the scar tissue.

"I... I'm soo sorry. I didn't know... Please forgive me for making such a cruel statement," she began to cry once more.

"Ignorant, yes. Cruel? No." Amalthia lowered her gown then reached out and held her soon-to-be mother-in-law by the shoulders, as she looked her in the face. "I don't hate you Mrs. Grimwald. You raised a fine son and I'm very honored to be his wife. Once you get to know me, I think you may actually grow to like me just a little."

The usher stopped by once more indicating that the ceremony was close at hand. Both Shirley and Amalthia waved him off as the two ladies smiled at each other for the first time.

"Be a good wife to my son, Amalthia."

She looked at her future mother-in-law in the eyes and said in a resolute voice.

"I will."

***

Ulfgar stood at the podium all dressed in his finest regalia. Below him, stood Kaleb who was anxiously waiting for his bride to come down the aisle. To his right stood his best men - Brad, Krenesh, Jestin and Bogo. Their outfits were designed to match in spite of the physical size and proportion difference between human and charr. To Ulfgar's right stood the bridesmaids - Cynthia, Ariyana, Navina and the most unusual of all Tovu.

The aisle was lined with soldiers from both the legions and the Seraph. Each one instructed to hold their swords aloft in criss-cross fashion when the bride walked down the aisle.

Moments later, the final wedding theme began to play. Katie began dropping petals of jasmine and lilac flowers as she walked by followed closely by her older sister, Rachel (who was the ring bearer).

Once the two girls found their places. The ode to the wedding march began. Soldiers from both Seraph and legions drew their blades and meshed them together in staggered formation. Kaleb could see the swords withdrawing as his bride drew closer.

Amalthia strode lightly across the pedal-laden carpeted aisle as the last blade drew back from either side of her. She glanced up at Kaleb then gave him a wink. For his part, Kaleb was awestruck by her beauty. The gown she wore accentuated her best features, and reflected the amalgamation of two vastly different peoples. In spite of his old injuries, Ludrick summoned strength to walk his daughter down the aisle.

She helped hold him steady his gait the entire time until he found his seat at the front row. Once she had helped her father to his seat she stood next to Kaleb as the both of them turned to face Ulfgar.

The old norn smiled upon the bride and groom just as he was about to deliver his sermon.

"Today a legend is born. For today, for the first time in recorded Tyria's history, we are gathered here today to unite two souls from two very different peoples. On this special occasion, a human and a charr will be joined, not in bloody combat with each other, but in sacred matrimony."

Ulfgar turned to Kaleb. "The young man standing before me is one whom I have known since he was a pup. Never have I met a soul who is more good-natured, witty and willing to go the extra mile than this young man. I have seen his courage, his generous heart and his willingness to sacrifice himself for the sake of others. Kaleb Grimwald was a boy who did not know what his future would be. He was brash, independent and in many cases, foolish. But all that changed when he met the one soul who gave him a purpose."

The old norn then turned to Amalthia. "This young lady is like no charr I've ever met. In spite of her rather small size, she has the heart of a norn. She is bold and completely unafraid to say whatever's on her mind. Only she could tame the heart of the wayward boy whom I've known since he was pup."

Ulfgar gestured for Kaleb and Amalthia to face each other while holding hands. He took the rings from Rachel then handed the first one to Kaleb.

"There are no words, no ceremonies, no rituals that can adequately express what is about to transpire this day."

"Kaleb Grimwald - will you swear to give Amalthia your heart, your soul and keep her well in sickness and in health? Will you be there to comfort her when she is sad or downtrodden? Will you be there to bring joy and happiness into each other's lives? And will you promise to do these things for the rest of your days? What say you, lad?"

"I do," Kaleb said as he looked lovingly into Amalthia's eyes then slid the ring onto her finger.

"Amalthia Steelblade - will you swear to give Kaleb your heart, your soul and keep him well in sickness and in health? Will you be there to comfort him when he is sad or downtrodden? Will you be there to bring joy and happiness into each other's lives? And will you promise to do these things for the rest of your days? What say you, lass?"

"Of course!" She smiled as her ears twitched and she slid the band onto his finger.

"Then by the power vested in me and the Great Raven Spirit, I now pronounce you man and wife."

Ulfgar, then, smiled and said with a wink. "You two know the rest."

Kaleb and Amalthia embraced in a passionate kiss as cheers erupted from the crowd. The old norn waved for the newly married couple to face the audience then announced in his resonating voice.

"Behold, Kaleb and Amalthia Grimwald-Steelblade. May they both share many happy years together!"

Shortly thereafter, both were given plenty of hugs and well wishes by various friends and family. Kaleb, then, grabbed his wife by the hand and said. "You know what comes next, right?"

Amalthia and her new husband said in unison.

"Get toasted!"

(All chapters have been posted to AO3. Chapter 30 is posted here.)

#gw2 fanfiction #tyrias-library #the outliers #guild wars fan fiction #kaleb and amalthia #charr and human #inter-species love

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thesillygoose3000 · 4 years

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Creature Comforts: Chapter 1

This is the first chapter in a KISS fic that I’m starting up. Paul gets an exotic pet (Vinnie), but it happens to be more than what he bargained for...

WARNING: 18+

Paul pulled his leather jacket tighter around his body. The night air picked up the leaves and spun them around, almost like a mini tornado. He approached the unmarked building, and walked around to the back. He knocked on the door. A sliding panel opened up, a set of ice blue eyes inside.

“Name?”

“Paul Stanley.” The panel closed, and the door opened. The building looked like an old school theatre inside, complete with velvet curtains. Paul looked up. Constellations and galaxies were painted on the curved ceiling, with naked marble statues dancing all around the edges. Columns stood on either side of the stage. The theatre seats were also made of a rich crimson velvet. Paul looked at his ticket. Seat A7. Front row. He sat down in front of the stage, smack in the middle.

This place was pretty ritzy, even for him. Paul enjoyed the finer things in life, but he had never seen such opulence as this. This place was for people who had money. And if he had one thing, it was money.

But he also had a lot of love to give, too. Now, he had a friend, to be sure. Gene Simmons had been his friend since high school, and the two were tight. But it wasn’t the same. He wanted someone, or for that matter, something, to truly love. And hopefully he would find it tonight.

Soon enough, the lights went down, and the spotlight shone on a spot in the middle of the stage right above Paul’s head. A rather portly man walked out, and stood in the center.

“Good evening, ladies and gentleman,” the man said. “I hope you are ready to see some animals tonight.” The crowd went wild. “Good. I don’t want to waste any more of your time, so let’s get started. The first animal we have is this fine creature, a lovely snow leopard named Shandi.” The curtain drew back to reveal a snow leopard sitting in a cage. She was a gorgeous animal. Her fur was shiny and healthy, and her tail slowly wrapped around her paws. She closed her eyes in contentment. “Do I hear $2,000?”

Shandi was truly a fine animal. But Paul didn’t want to bid on the first thing he saw. He watched as other people raised their hands, trying their best to obtain the creature. She finally sold to a woman in the back for $5,000.

The next animal that was wheeled out was a lion. Paul sighed, and rested his head in his hand. Lions were too high maintenance. The rest of the night went by quickly, animal after animal. Paul saw nothing that really caught his eye. Until him.

The last cage was wheeled onto the stage. It was rather small, and was covered by a purple cloth. “Now what we have here is a very special creature,” the host said. “Inside this cage is something the likes of you have never seen before.” With a flourish, he ripped off the cloth to reveal a…oh my God, no way. Paul squinted his eyes to make sure that was really what he was seeing. A naked human, with what looked to be pointed ears and a long, striped tail. Ooos and ahhhs washed over the crowd.

“This human-lemur hybrid is the first of his kind,” the man explained. “His name is Vinnie.” The host began to talk about how Vinnie came to be. Something about splicing genes together in a lab. But Paul wasn’t paying attention. His brown eyes widened, and he leaned forward to get a better look at this creature.

Vinnie’s bright green eyes were lined with black, the bright lights shining in them. His black hair was longer than Paul’s own, and was so fluffy it resembled a lion’s mane. The pointed lemur ears were twitching, no doubt from an overload of sounds. He was sitting down in the cage, his skinny legs in a W formation. The striped, fluffed up tail was wrapped tightly around his thin body. The creature’s plush lips were parted, and his chest was rapidly rising and falling.

“Poor thing is scared,” Paul murmured. Scared as he was, he was still so beautiful. He had to have him.

“Do I hear $5,000?” Paul shot up an index finger.

“$5,500?” Another man raised his hand.

Oh, no. This won’t do. Paul and the man went back and forth for what seemed like ages. Finally, the host asked, “Do I hear $50,000?”

“I’ll do you one better,” Paul said. “$100,000.” The other man put up his hands. He was done.

“Sold to the man in the front,” the host said. Paul smiled. Success. Vinnie was wheeled away to the back. Paul soon followed to claim his creature.

“Be careful,” the woman with the cage said. “He’s a feisty one.”

“Will do.” Paul crouched down to get to Vinnie’s level. “Hi,” Paul said softly. Brown eyes met green. Vinnie growled, his canines showing. He gripped the bars of the cage, his sharp nails digging into his palms. Paul shook his head. “Attitude problem, huh? That’s fine. I can work with that.” He looked up at the woman. “Do you have any clothes for him?”

The woman shook her head. “He’ll be fine.”

Paul frowned. He looked back at Vinnie, who backed up against the opposite cage wall. The tail flicked and thrashed about. His ears were nearly flattened against his skull. “Poor little dear,” Paul said. “I’ll be sure to give you a good home.”

Paul called out a limousine to take them back to his penthouse in Manhattan. The driver’s eyes widened at the sight of the lemur sapien in a blanket. Paul slipped him a fifty. “Don’t tell anyone that I have this, alright? The last thing I need is people knocking at my door.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Stanley.”

When they got back to the penthouse on the 30th floor, Paul unwrapped Vinnie from the tightly-wrapped blanket, and set him down gently on the couch. “Now,” Paul said, “we need to, ah, get you some clothes.” He rummaged through his closet, trying to look for something that would fit. He glanced over at Vinnie, who was taking in his surroundings, cocking his head. God, he was so little. He looked to be about five feet seven inches tall, and his ribs were showing. Whoever had him before this obviously didn’t take care of him that well. Paul searched his pajama drawer. A big white t-shirt would have to do for now.

“Alright,” Paul said. “I’m back. I have something for you.” Vinnie’s eyes widened, and his pupils constricted. He snarled, and let out an ungodly screech. The tail fluffed up once more, and began to thrash about. “Well, I can’t just have you be naked,” Paul said. In one swoop, he held the lemur sapien’s arms down to his sides with one of his, and tried to pull the shirt over his head. Vinnie wasn’t having it. He shrieked, and bit Paul on the hand. “Ouch,” Paul yelped. “Little shit.” But he didn’t let go. Soon enough, the shirt was over Vinnie’s head. Time for the arms. He took one of the bony arms and slid it through one sleeve, then did the same thing for the other arm. Finally. Vinnie fell back first on the couch, panting and sweating.

“There,” Paul said. “Doesn’t that feel better?” Vinnie narrowed his eyes and let out a squeak. Paul shook his head. This one was going to be a handful. He went over to the phone and dialed a number.

“Who is this?” a gruff voice said on the other line.

“It’s me,” Paul said.

“Oh, hey, Paul. What’s going on?” It was Gene.

“You’ll never guess what I bought.”

“A sense of dignity?” Gene laughed.

Paul rolled his eyes. “No, stupid. I bought a human lemur hybrid.”

Silence on the other end of the line. “You bought a what now?” Gene said finally.

“You heard me. You gotta come over and see him. He’s the cutest thing. But he’s got quite the attitude problem.”

“You don’t say.” Gene sighed. “Can it wait ‘til tomorrow? It’s kinda late.”

“Fine.”

“Don’t get rabies.”

“I think it’s too late for that.” Click. Paul sighed. He went over to Vinnie, who was sitting on the couch like a cat, tail swishing. He looked at Vinnie, and Vinnie looked at him back. Paul pulled his mouth to one side. “Can you talk?” The lemur sapien cocked his head and blinked. Paul sighed again. “Okay, let’s try this. Can you understand me at least?” Vinnie looked over at a fly on the wall, mesmerized. Oh, well. He tried. He went over to the kitchen to wash the bite. Blood ran down his wrist into the sink. Paul winced. He opened the cabinet to get a bandage, and was startled by a rapid tapping on the shoulder. He jumped and turned around. It was Vinnie.

“What do you want?” Paul said with a frown. “You bit me.”

Vinnie looked at the floor, rubbed his head underneath Paul’s chin, and began to purr. Paul was confused for a moment, then he hugged the lemur sapien close to his chest. Vinnie put his ear over the Starchild’s heart, listening to the strong beats. He closed his eyes. Paul shook his head. He was going to have his hands full for sure.

#paul stanley #starchild #KISS Band #kiss #classic rock fanfiction #classic rock fanfic #classic rock band #classic rock #the demon #gene simmons #Vinnie Vincent #ankh warrior #fanfiction #my writing #furry

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amirosebooks · 5 years

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Dean’s Old Yeller Principle

“He made me so mad at first that I wanted to kill him. Then, later, when I had to kill him, it was like having to shoot some of my own folks. That’s how much I’d come to think of the big yeller dog.”

— Fred Gipson, Old Yeller, Chapter 1 (Published in 1942)

When I was twelve or thirteen my English teacher passed out copies of Old Yeller as assigned reading. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the book, the quote above from the opening chapter tells you most everything you need to know for the context of this meta post. And for those of us who are still emotionally scarred from the damned book, I’m sorry for dredging up those memories.

Now, before I go any further, a disclaimer: Blah, blah, blah, this meta and interpretation of canon is my own. I’m not trying to “preach” to anyone about why Dean “is allowed” to be an asshole while he’s grieving or going through some shit. Or any other argument that consistently gets thrown back in the face of meta posts like this whenever Dean is being an emotional dick. You’re entitled to your interpretations, feelings and reactions, as am I. I’m merely offering this meta to 1) get it out of my mind 2) point and wave about the nods to this classic book that’s traumatized generations of American children 3) cheer Dean on for turning yet another teaching from the “older, wiser generation” John came from on its head.

Groovy? Okay, now we can move on.

I’m gonna throw the rest of this under the cut for length and to keep people who are sensitive to pets / animals dying in really sad ways from having their days ruined by talking more about the book unless they’re good with having that happen.

Now, as I said in my disclaimer bit, Old Yeller is largely considered classic literature here in the states. My memories of it are a weird mix of vague on the details and strong on the emotions it evoked. From what I remember, the main character was a young teenager when his family brought home Yeller. For whatever reason, our main character hated this dog. I don’t remember the details and they’re honestly not important to this meta. The hate he felt toward the dog is important. So is the fact that the hate slowly turned into love and devotion to the dog. Which made it even more gutting when, on a hunting trip (if I remember correctly) Yeller was bitten by a rabid animal and contracted rabies.

At the end of the novel, the Coates family are once again attacked by a wild animal, a wolf, and saved by Yeller’s bravery. Yeller is bit during the attack and becomes infected with rabies. Travis knows that despite his connection to Yeller and Yeller’s protection of his family, the dog must be killed before it becomes fully rabid and does any harm to him and his family. As the man of the house while his father is gone, Travis takes it upon himself to put Yeller out of his misery with his hunting rifle. Travis is heartbroken by what he has done, but knows that it was the right thing to do for his family. (From here.)

Sound familiar? Good. That’s what I thought too when we got the shot above in the graveyard in 14x20.

[Obviously, rabies, once there are symptoms like Yeller had, is incurrable, so putting him down was literally the only option. And we are talking here about Supernatural, which operates on soap opera rules so anything goes, but let’s just roll with the similarities for the sake of argument.]

I remember telling my husband while we were watching it “Dude, they’re really going to Old Yeller Jack, omg.” (I even made fanart of the moment.)

And then, something incredible happened.

Dean threw out the script yet again and set off season 15 with the dull thud of a gun being tossed into the grass.

Now, I hear you. “That’s great, Ami. Why should we care?”

Lemme tell you a thing, friend.

In order to tell you thing thing, I want to take a trip way back to season 4. Back when the brothers were still nose deep into John Winchester’s gospel of Monster = Evil = Kill The Thing.

(Screencaps are all from Home of the Nutty.)

4x21 - When the Levee Breaks

Sam: Stop bossing me around, Dean. Look. My whole life, you take the wheel, you call the shots, and I trust you because you are my brother. Now I’m asking you, for once, trust me.

Dean: No. You don’t know what you’re doing, Sam.

Sam: Yes, I do.

Dean: Then that’s worse.

Sam: Why? Look, I’m telling you-

Dean: Because it’s not something that you’re doing, it’s what you are! It means- Dean cuts himself off.

Sam: What? No. Say it. (Sam has tears in his eyes.)

Dean: It means you’re a monster. (Transcript from here.)

I remember the first time I watched the show and I got to this episode. That fucking line was such a gut punching moment. And it was such an effective and emotional moment that Ruby was able to extend it later to further manipulate Sam.

Now, the screencap I grabbed for this moment is of Dean in tears (well, that single man tear he’s known for) after labelling Sam a monster for a reason. I want to remind all of us of just how much it killed Dean to have to use that label for Sam. To have to try to rationalize that the boy he raised, his brother, the guy who has been there forever and has always been Dean’s charge to take care of is now the thing that Dean is going to have to put down because he falls under the label of monster.

You know what, let’s go back a little farther, to the first episode of season 2. To this moment:

Remember this look? The one we later learned was thanks to John telling Dean that Dean was going to need to put Sam down? That Sam was going to become a monster? Yeah, ouch.

I added the year Old Yeller was published (1942) to the quote at the top of this meta to help give some context about the time it was written and the world it was released into. I’d also like to make note that in 1957 (or about a year before Henry Winchester jumped forward in time to meet the brothers in season 8 and give them keys to the bunker and had to choose to abandon John when John was still a fairly young boy) Disney released a movie version of the book. It’s absolutely, if the movie exists in the SPN world, the kind of thing young John would have watched and taken some kind of black and white moral guidance from.

It’s the kind of book/movie that John would have probably (note, this is where we start diving into my own headcanons for a moment) made sure the boys were aware of when he started thinking about bringing them on hunts to keep them from freezing because the “person” on the other end of their shotgun is someone’s mom. I could see it being the kind of thing he’d use as a way to show them both that, yes, shit is hard but you have to do the right thing and sometimes that means killing the thing you love. At least, I could picture him thinking that way. (Also, this still makes me wonder about exactly how early John started suspecting there was something different about Sam, but that’s a whoooole other post.)

Moving on and forward to season 6.

6x20 - The Man Who Would Be King

Castiel: The angel-proofing Bobby put up on the house – he got a few things wrong.

Dean: Well, it’s too bad we got to angel-proof in the first place, isn’t it? Why are you here?

Castiel: I want you to understand.

Dean: Oh, believe me, I get it. Blah, blah, Raphael, right?

Castiel: I’m doing this for you, Dean. I’m doing this because of you.

Dean: Because of me. Yeah. You got to be kidding me.

Castiel: You’re the one who taught me that freedom and free will –

Dean: You’re a freakin’ child, you know that? Just because you can do what you want doesn’t mean that you get to do whatever you want!

Castiel: I know what I’m doing, Dean.

Dean: I’m not gonna logic you, okay? I’m saying don’t… Just ‘cause. I’m asking you not to. That’s it.

Castiel: I don’t understand.

Dean: Look, next to Sam, you and Bobby are the closest things I have to family – that you are like a brother to me. So, if I’m asking you not to do something… You got to trust me, man.

Castiel: Or what?

Dean: Or I’ll have to do what I have to do to stop you.

Castiel: You can’t, Dean. You’re just a man. I’m an angel.

Dean: I don’t know. I’ve taken some pretty big fish. (Transcript from here.)

This was after two seasons of Cas fighting by their side. Two seasons of Cas giving heaven the middle finger on behalf of the Winchesters. It was enough time for Dean’s first reaction in a time of confusion on a hunt was to call Cas for help. And it was enough time for Dean to go from assuming Cas was a demon summoned with “bad mojo” to drag him out of hell on behalf of Sam to genuinely starting to care about Cas.

Dean did threaten to take Cas out here if he persisted down the path he was on, but you can tell by the rest of the conversation and just how hard it was to convince Dean that Cas was lying to them that Dean was hoping talking would work and he wouldn’t be forced to put Cas down.

Unfortunately…

6x22 - The Man Who Knew Too Much

Castiel: You doubted me, fought against me, but I was right all along.

Dean: Okay, Cas, you were. We’re sorry. Now let’s just defuse you, okay?

Castiel: What do you mean?

Dean: You’re full of nuke. It’s not safe. So, before the eclipse ends, let’s get them souls back to where they belong.

Castiel: Oh no, they belong with me.

Dean: No, Cas, it’s it-it’s scrambling your brain.

Castiel: No, I’m not finished yet. Raphael had many followers, and I must punish them all severely.

Dean: Listen to me. Listen, I know there’s a lot of bad water under the bridge, but we were family once. I’d have died for you. I almost did a few times. So if that means anything to you… Please. I’ve lost Lisa, I’ve lost Ben, and now I’ve lost Sam. Don’t make me lose you too. You don’t need this kind of juice anymore, Cas. Get rid of it before it kills us all.

Castiel: You’re just saying that because I won. Because you’re afraid. (Behind him, Sam picks up the angel killing sword.) You’re not my family, Dean. I have no family. (Sam stabs Castiel in the back with the angel killing sword. Sam groans. Nothing happens. Castiel pulls the sword out. There’s no blood on it. He puts it down.) I’m glad you made it, Sam. But the angel blade won’t work, because I’m not an angel anymore. I’m your new God. A better one. So you will bow down and profess your love unto me, your Lord. Or I shall destroy you. (Transcript from here.)

Again, Dean tried to argue with the overpowered angel, he tried bargaining, pleading, and appealing to Cas’s fondness for them, but it didn’t work. Sam was the one who was forced to try stabbing Cas and it… also didn’t work.

7x01 - Meet the New Boss

Sam: Dean, look, I know you think that Cas is gone –

Dean: It’s 'cause he is.

Sam: He’s not! He’s in there somewhere, Dean. I know it.

Dean: No, you don’t.

Sam: No, I don’t. But, look, I was pretty far gone sometimes myself, and never gave up on me.

Dean: Yeah, and it turns out that you’re about the Same open book as you’ve always been. Hallucinations? Really? I got to find out from Death?

Sam: What was I supposed to do?

Dean: How about not lie? How about tell me that you’ve got crazy crap climbing those walls?

Sam: Why? You can’t help. You got a lot of pretty severe crap swinging your way lately, and – and I thought –what? I thought why burst the one good bubble you had left? It’s under control.

Dean: What? What, exactly, is under control?

Sam: I know what’s real and what’s not.

Dean: Sam –

Sam: Dean, look, we can debate this once we deal with Cas.

Dean: Yeah, you know how I’m gonna deal? I’m gonna stuff my piehole, I’m gonna drink, and I’m gonna watch some Asian cartoon p**n and act like the world’s about to explode because it is. Hey. You got to be kidding me. “Massacre at the campaign office of an incumbent Senator by a trench-coated man.” There’s security footage. Well, I think reaching Cas is, uh… out of the cards. (Transcript from here. And hopefully my slight censoring the last paragraph keeps tumblr from blacklisting this post into the aether…)

Here’s a sad thought for you, how often do you think–while Cas was terrorizing the country as Godstiel and, later, after he walked into the lake and exploded into Leviathan goo–Dean thought about how he should have listened to Bobby and Sam and taken Cas out before he had the chance to swallow the Leviathans and become super powered? Probably a lot, I’d guess.

This moment, as much as I, personally, hate seasons 6 and 7, went pretty damn far to reinforce this Old Yeller principle in Dean’s moral code.

He had to sit back and watch, literally, while someone he cared about went out of their goddamn mind with power while killing and terrorizing people. He had to do that knowing that there was a moment when he could have done something to prevent it. He could have killed Cas when he had him locked up in the ring of holy fire and they were having one of their many breakup moments.

Dean felt like he could have stopped all of this, but he’d been weak and tried talking it out first instead. And you can’t convince me that he didn’t check the news and every drop of blood Godstiel brought about to the blood on his own hands because of that choice to give Cas a chance to see reason.

10x09 - The Things We Left Behind

CASTIEL: How are you, Dean?

DEAN: Fine. [Cas gives him a look.] I’m great!

CASTIEL: No, you’re not.

DEAN: Yeah, well, I lost the black eyes, so that’s a plus. But I still have this. [Dean reaches over and gently slaps the Mark on his arm.]

CASTIEL: Is the Mark of Cain still affecting you?

[Dean flashes back to his dream from earlier, of the blood covering him, the dead bodies lying around him.]

CASTIEL: Dean?

[Dean blinks hard, coming back to the present.]

DEAN: Cas, I need you to promise me something.

CASTIEL: Of course.

DEAN: If I do go dark side, you got to take me out.

CASTIEL: What do you mean?

DEAN: Knife me. Smite me. Throw me into the freakin’ sun, whatever. And don’t let Sam get in the way, because he’ll try. I can’t go down that road again, man. I can’t be that thing again.

(Transcript from here.)

I may hate seasons 6 and 7, but holy damn do I love season 10. I know it’s not a favorite among many people in the fandom, but it’s one of mine.

This moment, this burger date of sadness and pain, is a big favorite for me. Dean sees the writing on the wall. He’s been a Knight of Hell now. He’s been as darkside as he can get. He’s, likely, being reminded daily of his time in Hell in the last ten years of his stay there where he was torturing souls. And he’s begging Cas to keep him from returning to that place. He’s begging Cas to adopt the Old Yeller principle because he sees it as the only option left if the mark consumed him again. And that kills me.

Let’s take another jump forward to season 13, where Dabb & Co really started putting Dean’s Old Yeller principle into text in a heavy, purposeful way.

13x02 - The Rising Son

SAM Dean, wait a second. (Sighs) The kid came through for us today. Jack saved us.

DEAN No. No, whatever that was, that was a reflex. It was a sneeze. Maybe next time he sneezes, he kills us. Good night.

[DEAN hears a clacking sound coming from a distance. He follows the noise to JACK’s room.] JACK Ah!

[DEAN finds JACK trying to stab himself with a blade. The wounds immediately heal.]

DEAN Okay. What the hell? (he gets in the room) Give me that. You—Don’t be an idiot. Look, A, this is not gonna do anything to you, okay? And B, you… What the hell?

JACK Exactly. What the hell am I? I can’t control… whatever this is. I will hurt someone.

DEAN You know, my brother thinks you can be saved.

JACK You don’t believe that.

DEAN No, I don’t.

JACK So… if you’re right?

DEAN If I’m right… and it comes to killing you… I’ll be the one to do it.

[DEAN leaves.]

(Transcript from here.)

Can I just bask in the glory of the grieving widow!Dean arc from the beginning of 13 for a moment? I’d also like to take a moment to 🙌 Jack for being a wonderful Team Free Will mirror (and mimic) from the word go.

Ahhh…

Okay, moving on.

I loved this bit in 13x02 so much. Partially because it’s such a heavy handed foreshadow to 14x20, but also because it shows so clearly how good Jack is at reading the emotions in the room. He’s, like, three days old at that point, but he’s already having an existential crisis about whether or not he’s evil. He already understands (yes, thanks to jackass grieving widow!Dean…) the whole Monster = Evil = Kill The Thing.

He also shows that he understands the Old Yeller principle. And, for better or worse, he and Dean reach an unspoken agreement here about it. (Again, this is my reading. Your mileage may vary.)

13x04 - The Big Empty

JACK I’m afraid.

MIA/KELLY Why? Why are you afraid?

JACK Sam thinks you were right, that—that I’m good. He wants me to believe it, and I wanna believe it, too. It’s just, I… I’ve hurt people. I didn’t mean to. It was an accident. And I know I should feel bad, and I say I feel bad, but most of the time, I mostly… I don’t feel anything. And that’s why I think maybe… Maybe I’m a monster.

MIA/KELLY Jack. It doesn’t matter what you are. It matters what you do. And even monsters can do good in this world.

JACK You really believe that?

MIA/KELLY I have to. I have to.

[MIA hugs JACK again.]

(Trancript from here.)

Killing me would be kinder than subjecting me to these feelings so soon after being introduced to this fucking character. Omg. Poor Jack.

Now, yes, a huuuuge part of Jack’s opinion of monsters and the whole “What do we do with monsters children? That’s RIGHT, we kill them.” thing is because Dean is an asshole when he’s emotional and grieving and deep into survival mode.

But, that doesn’t change the fact that Jack is still worried about the fact that he doesn’t feel things the way that everyone else seems to. That he has powers no one, including him, can understand. And that he’s killed people without meaning to. He’s afraid of himself just like Dean was afraid of what he was capable of if the mark took him over again.

13x23 - Let The Good Times Roll

(Sam continues down the hallway while Dean turns to another hallway and approaches his bedroom door. He stops as if to listen to something and then continues down the hall, away from his bedroom door. He enters Jack’s room, where Jack is sleeping and talking in his sleep)

JACK Stop! No!

DEAN Jack? (Dean touches Jack’s shoulder to wake him) Hey. (Jack jumps up, anxious and disoriented. Dean holds out his hand towards Jack to calm him) Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy. You’re just having a bad dream.

JACK (breathing heavily) Sorry.

DEAN It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize. I have 'em, too. All the time.

JACK You do?

DEAN Sure.

JACK You, um… What do you see?

DEAN Well, depends. Mostly…mostly people I couldn’t save.

JACK Me, too. Over there in the other world, I said I’d protect those people. But…I saw so many of them die. And…I tried to save them. I…I tried, but… I’m sorry. I wasn’t strong enough.

DEAN Jack… (Dean sits on the edge of Jack’s bed) it’s not about being strong. I mean… Look, I don’t know what you saw over there, and I don’t know what you went through. I know it was bad. But I also know that you came out the other side because you are strong. But even when we’re strong, man, things are gonna happen. We’re gonna make mistakes. Nobody’s perfect. Right? But we can get better. Every day, we can get better. So whatever you’re dealing with, you know, whatever…whatever comes at us, we’ll figure out a way to deal with it, together. You’re family, kid, and we look after our own.

(Transcript from here.)

It’s not about being strong. IT’S NOT ABOUT BEING STRONG.

This is where we veer away from Old Yeller a tiny bit because, again, in the book Yeller had rabies which they could do nothing about.

The moments I’ve highlighted in this post all come back to one motivation. The overpowered person/angel/asshole in question was trying to gain enough strength through supernatural (lol) means in order to have the power to destroy a (perceived) bigger threat than whatever the cost was to get that power.

Sam’s demon blood drinking was supposed to give him the power to destroy Lucifer and get revenge for Mary and John and their lost childhood. It went badly and earned Sam the label of monster and falling, at least temporarily, into the territory of the Old Yeller principle.

Cas started lying to the brothers and working with Crowley so they could gain the power to stop heaven from starting yet another apaocalypse. Cas wanted to keep the Winchesters (Dean) safe from being destroyed in a holy war after being forced to fight his brother to the death. Again, this did not go well and lead to Cas succumbing to the Leviathans’s power and dying front of Dean after losing the Winchester’s trust.

Dean took on the Mark of Cain to defeat Abaddon, the evil that made John grow up without a father. It left him torn between going on a, essentially, soulless killing spree or becoming a Knight of Hell… again.

Hell, even the way Jack came into the world was fraught with Sam lying to Dean about working with the BMoL to have the power and strength to defeat Lucifer/the nephilim. Not to mention the months of lying Cas did after he decided that Jack’s power and strength was the only way they could destroy Lucifer once and for all. Again, this ended with Cas dying in front of Dean and the BMoL trying to exterminate everyone including the American hunters.

That’s the lesson Dean is trying to instill (hypocritically, let’s be honest) to Jack here. Strength and power come at a terrible cost and if you can solve a problem without resorting to that level of fuckery that things will be better.

And, also, that if things do go bad, that Jack is family and “we look after our own.” To Dean, this is where the Old Yeller principle kicks in. It is, in a rather fucked up but well earned way, the best option he knows for making sure another one of his loved ones doesn’t fall under that monster label. That none of them end up with more blood on their hands or bringing about the end of the world, again, because of their soap opera problems.

13x23 - Let The Good Times Roll

JACK I’m sorry.

(Jack walks towards the exit and Castiel goes to follow him)

CASTIEL Jack!

(Dean grabs Castiel’s arm)

DEAN No, hey, just – just let him go.

(Jack is walking through the woods, banging a closed fist into his hand and punching his shoulder)

JACK You keep hurting people! You keep… (Jack flashes back to all the people he has hurt with his powers – Nate, Sam, Dean, the female police officer) hurting… (flash to the male sheriff) (yelling) Why do you keep hurting people?!

(Transcript from here.)

This lesson, the lesson of power and strength not being the best answer because of the cost it comes with is not an easy one to learn. Especially when you were born as a superpowered, emotional Winchester by adoption. Life is scary when that’s the hand you’ve been dealt and using the power you have is an appealing balm to combat that fear.

13x23 - Let The Good Times Roll

JACK (moving towards Lucifer, eyes glowing and hand outstretched)Tell me the truth!

(Lucifer’s eyes start to glow, his head tilts to the side and he starts speaking)

LUCIFER She saw me when I was scouting out the bunker. She saw me and she screamed, and then…so I crushed her skull with my bare hands. And it was warm and wet, and I liked it.

(Lucifer’s eyes return to normal and he looks confused)

JACK You’re not my father. You’re a monster.

LUCIFER (yelling) Come on, man! (Lucifer bellows so forcibly that Sam and Dean cover their ears, his eyes glowing red) Okay. I tried with you. I really tried with you.

JACK Everything you told me was a lie.

LUCIFER Because I told you what you wanted to hear, man. So what?! I killed the girl! Big deal! She’s a – she’s a human! She doesn’t matter!

JACK So am I!

LUCIFER Yeah? And that’s your problem. (pointing at Jack) You’re too much like your mother.

(Transcript from here.)

To me, this moment reads as Jack embracing that black and white Winchester thinking. He has yet (even now that’s he’s currently dead in season 15) to grasp the concept of people being morally gray. He sees himself as either embracing the monster side of himself from his bio dad or rejecting that side of himself to embrace Kelly’s human side. The side that can’t hurt people on accident. The side that makes him more like the Winchesters. Because he doesn’t want to fall under than monster label. He doesn’t want to fall under that Old Yeller principle. He doesn’t want to hurt so many people that he will have to die because neither he or anyone else can control him.

Yes, this moment is FAR more complicated than just that, but it’s definitely part of it.

14x10 - Nihilism

DEAN Sam said that one of your reapers really came through with the assist. I’m thinking that was probably you.

BILLIE Don’t tell anyone.

DEAN You broke the rules.

BILLIE I took a calculated risk. I warned you about the dangers of jumping from world to world. But you ignored me, didn’t you?

DEAN Rescuing Mom and Jack, helping out those other folks – I’d say it was worth it.

BILLIE And just look at you now. Do you remember visiting my reading room? The shelves and shelves of notebooks describing the ways you might die?

DEAN Yeah. Upbeat classics.

BILLIE Well, it’s the funniest thing, but they’ve all been rewritten. They all end the same way now – with the archangel Michael escaping your mind and using you as his vessel to burn down this world.

DEAN All of them?

BILLIE All of them. Except one.

(Billie hands Dean a book. He opens it and then looks at her, stunned)

DEAN What am I supposed to do with this?

BILLIE That’s up to you.

(Dean looks at the book again and when he looks up, Billie is gone. He looks back at the book and then looks around, a mixture of fear and confusion on his face)

(Transcript from here.)

Remember what I said about Dean being well aware of the price that has to be paid in exchange for the power and strength to defeat supposedly unbeatable enemies?

Yeah… Dean “knows” that the time has come for him to call his own bluff. The one from all the way back in 10x09 (not that he was bluffing then, but he didn’t have to take action on it then) when he asked Cas to take him out. “Knife me. Smite me. Throw me into the freakin’ sun, whatever.”

We didn’t know that was what this moment was until the next episode. But this is the moment when the Old Yeller principle went into effect again. And you can see how much it hurts Dean, how resigned and heartbroken he is over it.

14x11 - Damaged Goods

DEAN It’s a Ma’lak box. [DEAN closes the door to the box. He and SAM are standing over it.] Secured and warded. Once inside… nothing gets out, not even an archangel. Especially an archangel.

SAM Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ve – I’ve read about these, but – but no one’s ever – they’re impossible to build.

DEAN Yeah, well, not so much.

SAM That’s your plan? You want to be buried alive?

DEAN Buried’s not safe enough. Plan is, pay a little hush money, charter a boat to take me out to the Pacific. Splash.

SAM You and Michael, trapped together – for eternity?

DEAN Yeah.

SAM You do realize how insane this is, right?

DEAN It’s the only sane play I’ve got. Michael gets out, that’s it for this world. And he will get out.

SAM Well, how do you know that for sure?

DEAN Because I do. Because I can feel him in my head. That door is giving. I can feel it giving.

SAM But there has to be another way.

DEAN There’s not, okay? There – Sam you’ve tried. Cas has tried. Jack… And I love you for trying. But none of it’s gonna work.

SAM We don’t know that.

DEAN Yeah, we do.

SAM What?

DEAN Billie.

SAM Billie?

DEAN She paid me a little visit. She said that there’s only one way this ends right. And this is it. This, right here, this box. So, she gave up the special recipe, and all I had to do was the work. It’s fate.

SAM Since when do we believe in fate?

DEAN Now, Sam. Since now.

(Transcript from here.)

Here is the moment. The one where Dean was at his absolute lowest. When he hit that point where resignation about his fate met having to act on his principles.

14x12 - Prophet and Loss

DEAN Well, I will call this a win. Kinda nice. Going out on a high. SAM “Going out” being the operative phrase. DEAN Sorry. SAM “Sorry.” How sorry are you? Sorry that you fight to keep Donatello alive, but when it comes to you, you just throw in the towel? Or are you sorry that, after all these years, our entire lives, a-after I’ve looked up to you, after I’ve learned from you, I-I-I’ve copied you, I followed you to Hell and back… are you sorry that all of that it – it – it means nothing now? DEAN Who’s saying that? SAM You are, when you tell me I have to kill you. When you’re telling me that I have to just throw away everything we stand for, throw away faith, throw away family. We’re the guys who saved the world. We don’t just check out of it! [SAM pushes DEAN.] DEAN Sam, I have tried everything. Everything! I got one card left to play and I have to play it. SAM You have one card today! But we’ll find another tomorrow. But if you quit on us today, there will be no tomorrow! You tell me, uh, you don’t know what else to do. I don’t either, Dean. Not yet. But what you’re doing now, i-it’s – it’s wrong! It’s quitting! I mean, l-look what just happened. Donatello never quit fighting. So we could help him because he never gave up. [SAM moves closer to DEAN.] I believe in us, Dean. [DEAN doesn’t say anything. SAM gets angry and punches DEAN in the face.] I believe in us. [SAM tries to punch DEAN again, but he stops him.] DEAN Hey, hey, hey, hey! [SAM hugs DEAN.] SAM Why don’t you believe in us, too? DEAN Okay, Sam. Let’s go home. SAM What? [SAM pulls away from the hug.] DEAN Let’s go home. Maybe Billie’s wrong. Maybe. But I do believe in us.

(Transcript from here.)

And just like Dean predicted in 10x09, Sam was able to talk him out of sacrificing himself. How was he able to do that? By reminding Dean that they were the fucking Winchesters. They fucked with the cosmic balance constantly and always, always found another way. A way to avoid the Old Yeller principle. A way to live and fight again.

Which, they totally did, but the price of not throwing Dean into the ocean for an eternity of alone time with alt!Michael banging away in his head was their adopted child.

14x20 - Moriah

JACK: You’re not gonna lock me up again, are you?

DEAN: No.

(Dean raises the gun, aims at Jack and exhales deeply. Jack kneels down and bows his head. Dean, looking puzzled, lowers the gun and walks closer towards Jack. When he’s right in front of Jack, he aims the gun directly at his head. At this moment Sam comes speeding into the cemetery, car tires screeching. He gets out of the car and starts running towards Dean and Jack)

SAM: Dean? Dean!

JACK: (to Dean) I understand.

(Sam is still running, yelling for Dean. The music is getting more suspenseful as Dean holds his aim steady at Jack)

SAM: Dean, don’t! Dean? Dean!

JACK: I know what I’ve done.

SAM: No, no, no, no, no, no, no, Dean! Hey, hey, hey! Dean!

DEAN: Stay back, Sam!

SAM: (Panting)

JACK: And you were right all along. (Chuck comes up alongside Sam) I am a monster.

SAM: (to Chuck) Do something. … You’re enjoying this.

CHUCK: Shh.

(Dramatic music plays)

(Dean cocks the gun. He looks Jack in the eye for several seconds and then slowly lowers the gun. At this point, Castiel also comes running towards the area)

(Dean uncocks the gun and tosses it to the side)

(Transcript from here.)

I have yet to rewatch this episode, but from what I remember I don’t think it had completely sunk in to Dean in that moment of choice that Chuck was there revealing that he was invested in the outcome of this showdown between Dean and Jack. In that moment, that split second of choice between following through with what he’d believed for so long for following through with an extension of the order John gave him about Sam back in the hospital back in 2x01, Dean made a choice for himself. And that choice was to believe that they’d find another way. He decided that when it came right down to it, he couldn’t kill his child for making the same bargain for power and strength that he himself had made multiple times over the last 14 seasons.

He was also directly confronted with a similar situation to that from the end of season 6 and beginning of 7 with Cas and the Leviathans, in that when it really came down to it, he wasn’t capable of murdering someone he considered family.

And then Chuck had to go and erase any chance they had in following up on that. He killed Jack so that they didn’t have a chance to find a way to help Jack balance the power he’d absorbed from destroying Michael or living without his soul.

So yeah, from where we sit now with only one episode of season 15 under our belts waiting with baited breath to see where the rest of this end of the road season takes us, it makes sense that Dean, of all people, would be in the middle of an emotional fucking collapse. And that he would be a huge, whiny, pissbaby douchebag about it because that’s the Dean Winchester way.

Does that make his behavior okay? No, of course not. But does that turn any of the rest of them into saints? Nope, of course not. And I, personally, wouldn’t have it any other way. I like that they’re flawed and fucked up and keep getting back up and going back to each other and keep trying. That’s why we’ve had 15 goddamn seasons of this. Because it’s what they do.

#15x01 #spn spoilers #spn parallels #jack kline #dean winchester #spn meta #season 15 #jack the nougat nephilim #my spn meta #tumblr mobile ate this post the first time i tried posting it but it was in the cache on my laptop so it's back!

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carryonmywaywardwriters · 5 years

Text

I Prefer Sir - Sam x Reader (One Shot)

A/N: Throwing this out really quick before I go and make dinner. There’s no editing, and I’m skipping tags for the moment. LHYHM is next up. For now? Feedback is amazing, and I hope you all enjoy <3

Warnings: Embarrassment. Some sexual innuendos. Nothing wild

Word Count: Roughly 1,400

“Relax, baby...it's not that bad.” Cooing softly, you rubbed your hand through the thick hair that covered a large leg. Trying to soothe the beast resting on the table in front of you. Ever impatient.

The St. Bernard mix clearly disagreed. A loud, broken howl of anguish left the beast as you lifted the final paw. Another heavy sigh of resignation left you while you bent your head. There'd be no escape from the noise until you were done if Sir-Sheds-A-Lot had his way. You'd known you'd saved the best for last, for a reason.

Snip here. Clip there. And again.There’s the quick. Ignore the noise. You can do it, Y/N... One more time. Done. Finally.

A kink in your lower back had you arching your spine as you stood tall. Trying to earn a pop as the ear splitting noises faded into miserable whimpers. Despite the damage to your hearing, you couldn't help the small smile that tugged at your lips. He was a little dumb and a lot of head strong, but in the best possible way.

“You seem like you have your hands full today,” The sudden, deep male voice made you spin around, hand still on the St. Bernard out of habit.

There he stood. The Jesus lookalike himself. Sam fucking Winchester. All decked out in the light blue plaid shirt he'd been in the day you'd met him. His dog, just as beautiful, leaning against his leg. As you took him in, you cursed the white, wavy hair that covered your body.

“Ya have no idea,” Came your breathy response while placing the lead back around the thick neck. “Max is a sweet boy...just a little... overzealous.” A glob of drool slid down the drooped lip before a head shake followed. Making you wince a bit as you dodged it. With another dramatic sigh, you pushed at the fur coat that clung to you. Futile was putting it lightly. “If you give me just a minute, I'll put this guy in the back and get you two going.”

Getting Sam going would be an honor. That much you were sure of. You peeked back at him as you unclipped the dog from the harness. Noting just how broad his shoulders were. Gawking was a luxury you wouldn't have, though. Instead, you were yanked back to attention.

“Take your time. We're in no rush.” His hand was huge as he blew off the inconvenience with a friendly wave.

Riot whimpered at his feet, drawing attention to himself. The doting owner didn't hesitate. Dropping down to the couch in the waiting area, and patting for the Shepard to join him. As he pet the thick fur, he eyed up the boxes resting in front of him.

I'll bet his hands aren't all that's bi- Damn it, Max! Slow down!

Max's telepathic abilities were sorely lacking. Instead, he swam across the tile floor. Right into the other groomer. You two were similar in age and stature. Her not toppling over was a miracle in itself.

“Hey, buddy,” She cooed once her balance was restored. Before she could spot the hunk of man meat in front, you stepped forward. Blocking the view efficiently. A dirty trick that she'd catch onto soon enough. Worth it...

“Do you mind putting him away, and then washing Bandit? I'll call Sue, and get this guy going.” Don't look up there. Don't look-

“Come on, Maxxy. Y/N doesn't love you, anymore.” The baby voice worked. St. Bernard in hand, she strode back behind the door.

Resisting the urge to fist bump the air, you turned around, “That's a lie, but I'll let it slide this time.” Indignant tones seemed only make the dimples appear on Sam's face as he set down the book he’d been nosing in. “Besides, Riot doesn't howl in my ear. Does he?” He didn't. Instead, the Australian Shepard wagged his tail furiously. “That's why you're my favorite. Come here, big guy!” There wasn't a second wasted. The moment you squatted down, your lap was filled with a squirming, murmuring ball of fuzz. “He looks great, really. You'd never guess that he'd been hit by a car.” Your fingers caught on a small clump of hair. Summer had its downfalls. “Shedding a bit, today, though.”

“A bit? He covered my room. He's gonna get us kicked out if we’re not careful,” Affectionately said. But, it was a fair enough point. Sam could end up homeless if the owner of the motel got pissy enough. “That's why I need your help. Think you can do something about it?”

“Yeah, I'll give him the works.” A slobbering kiss was your reward. From the wrong man. At least Riot appreciated the extra lengths you were willing to go through. “I'll blow him out real good.” You told yourself it was just your imagination that Sam sat up straighter. “Hit him with the Furminator shampoo and conditioner combo. Do a second blow out. Brush him real good. And see where that gets us.”

“That's my girl.” The breathy, thankful way he said it went straight to your crotch. Fuck me... he's trouble. Trouble that you couldn't help but crave. “You've always got an answer for something.”

“I hope so, or I'd be out of work.” His lips were too pink to draw your eyes from when he smiled your way. Luckily, you knew the old keyboard by heart. “Everything the same?”

“Perfect.” You had little doubts about that. Sam lived for that dog. The care was evident.

Check ins were simple procedures. And it was over with all too fast. Riot whined as Sam walked out the door. Back to every day life. Unaware he'd left two broken hearts behind.

“Me too, bud...me too.” Lolling tongue, he stared up to you. As if asking how long he had to wait until his dad was back. “Let me make a call, and we'll put it in over drive...okay?” As if he understood English, he let you make the call to return Max to his people.

“Is that Riot?” It was rude to smirk when the appalled question sounded. But, yet, you couldn't help it. “That's why you wanted me in the back? You bitch!”

“I'm shameless, I know.” Was your answer as you patted the table. Encouraging the dog to jump up. Of course, he did it perfectly. “Great dog with a gorgeous human... I think I'm in love.”

“Yeah...that's it.” The dry tone only made you laugh more. Or lust.

“God, you missed it. He pulled out the 'that's my girl' today.” A memory that would forever be ingrained in your brain.

Whimpering came from your coworker that time rather than a dog, “He did not."

“He did,” Your eased up Riot's back leg. Getting to work on the nails. It didn't take long at all. He was right on schedule. “Riot better watch it...his dad can't be saying stuff like that. Otherwise, I'm going to end up calling him daddy, too.”

“Oh, really?” The clippers fell from your hand at the low timbre of Sam's voice. There wasn't an opening of the door that you could remember. But, it must have happened at some point. Because he was truly there. I gotta put that bell back up...

“Oh...” You squeaked, lifting your head slowly. Wondering just how much he'd heard. Hoping it was just that last sentence. Still damning, but less damaging than it all packed together. “C...Can I help you?”

His mouth tugged up at one side as he lifted a piece of paper, “I forgot to have you update his rabies.”

“Right...” The heat in your cheeks was undeniable as you pulled away from Riot. Leaving on hand on the dog, you moved over to the computer. “Sorry about that.”

“Don't be sorry...” Your breath caught in your throat at the husky murmur as you pulled up the information on the screen. He waited a moment more. Letting you type in the new expiration date. “Just remember...” His hand pressed over yours when you were done. “I prefer Sir.” All words died on your lips as he squeezed your hand.

With that, he pulled away from the desk. Stuffing his hands in pockets, he left for good. Leaving you gaping...

#supernatural #spn #supernatural reader insert #spn reader insert #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #sam #Sam Winchester #sam winchester fanfiction #sam fanfiction #sam reader insert #Sam Winchester reader insert #sam x reader #sam x you #sam x y/n #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x reader

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looking-to-the-moon-tonight · 5 years

Text

MSA Zombie AU Part 1

(Hey guys! I managed to start this AU and am posting this to see how you will respond. I’ve spent the past week writing and deleting and writing some more and throwing out ideas, so it may seem a little problematic. I’ll keep it under the cut. Enjoy!)

The shop was dead silent, something he wasn't used to even on slow days. The sounds of repairs almost always filled the air, his uncle's booming voice raising above the din to make sure everything was going to plan. When the shop was closed, they normally laughed over dinner and watched some silly sitcom before bed. Lance's snoring could normally be heard right before he fell asleep and he would wake to the sounds of cooking before the shop opened once more. But today was silent and it put an uneasy feeling in his bones.

Uncle Lance was gone for the day, having left late last night to get some things before all the shops closed for good. The rabies threat was starting to get close, rumors of it having reached Austin and Houston causing everyone lock up before it spread to them. Tempo was a ghost town, all the stores closed besides Kingsmen Mechanics and Pepper Paradiso, and even then they were simply giving away product or doing work for free before people hit the roads. Everyone was gone and silence followed in their wake.

A soft whimper filled Arthur's ears and he looked down. At his feet was Mystery, still looking just as depressed as the day he arrived. The poor pup had been lost ever since Vivi had been forced to leave him behind, wherever they were going not allowing pets. She had tried to bring him, snuck him into the car in one of her bags, but they didn't get far. They ended up at the shop, making Vivi hand over the dog before they headed north once more. He'd been like this ever since, dutifully following Arthur around but clearly lost without his person.

He reached down and gently scratched behind Mystery's ears. "It's okay buddy." he said, "Vivi and Lewis will be back once this whole rabies thing is over. I promise." At least, he hoped they would. At least he knew Vivi was heading to Canada, no one knew where Lewis had been taken after the mandatory health evaluations. They had been promised that he was safe and well-cared for, but Arthur couldn't shake the feeling that something else was going on, that the soldiers and the politicians were hiding something big from them. He couldn't shake the feeling that they were all in danger.

Lance had promised that they were fine, that it was just a hoax that people were buying into and would blow over any day now. That had been before it spread into Texas, before rumors of illness spreading quicker than wildfire and tales of the death it left in its path. He was sure that Lance thought he hid it well from Arthur, but he could see the worry on his face as clear as day. It hadn't surprised him when his uncle announced over dinner the previous night that they would be leaving Tempo once he got some supplies. What did surprise him was how protective he became, telling him to not leave the shop, to lock all the doors once he left, and to answer the door for no one, even the people he knew.

He'd been alone ever since he left, no clue what was going to happen but making sure he was prepared. He spent the entirety of the morning packing. Extra fuel, tools for repairs, Lance's and his own clothing, blankets, pillows, food that would last the trip, and a few photos were all packed tightly into the van. He had just finished putting the last of it into the van when he heard someone knocking, no, more like pounding away at the front door. It made him freeze in place, while Mystery pressed himself as close to Arthur as possible.

Staring at the door, Arthur felt torn. While he wasn't overly strict and didn't give Arthur a lot of rules, he knew whatever rules Lance did put into place were law. Breaking them always ended up with an hour long lecture, being forced to do oil changes for a week, and not being allowed to go on investigations with Lewis and Vivi. But he couldn't enforce two of them, their group being separated across the entire country and their shop was dead. A lecture would still suck, but at least the punishment wouldn't be as bad as it normally would.

Plus, his uncle always told him to never turn a stranger away out here. The odds were they were either lost, almost out of gas, or their car had broken down; all things they were more than equipped to handle. The only thing he always told him was that, if he was alone, was to always answer the door with some sort of weapon in hand if he couldn't see who they were. He clearly couldn't see the person, not with all the windows boarded up in preparation for their trip, so shotgun it was.

Mystery tagged along with him to grab the gun, strangely silent now as the pounding grew louder and louder. Arthur stayed just as silent, though part of him felt like he should call out and let whoever it was know he would be just a moment. Another part of him hoped that whoever was out there would give up and move on. Honestly, he was surprised that they had even stopped here, the shop looked just as abandoned as anything else around Tempo. Maybe they had heard him?

He flinched at the loud sound the gun made as he cocked it. The pounding outside intensified and a terrifying moaning filled the air. Mystery pressed himself closer to Arthur's leg, whimpering softly. Gently, he reached down to scratch him between his ears. "It's okay buddy." he said softly, "We're going to be okay."

They both startled as they heard the door give way. Arthur was shaking badly at this point, terrified of whoever it was. Who was so desperate that they would break down the door? And why were they moaning like they were? His entire body was shaking as he brought the gun up and tentatively walked towards the noise. Whoever it was, they were going to regret breaking into Kingsman Mechanics.

It didn't take him long to find the intruder. A strange man in a bloody tank top and oddly colored skin was shambling in their shop, his haunting moans making Arthur's ears hurt. The smell coming off of him made him want to vomit and Mystery had gone from terrified to terrifying. His growls caught the attention of whoever it was, making him turn in their direction.

Arthur couldn't help but scream as the man's face came into view. The face was covered in blood, just like the rest of him, and he could see the flesh underneath the skin. The eyes were glazed over, emotionless as the body stumbled towards them. He could see maggots crawling on the rotting flesh.

He brought the shotgun back up, having lowered it in his fear. "S... Stop!" he said, panicking as he backed away, "Don't make me shoot!"

The man kept approaching, he should have known he wouldn't have listened! His hands were still shaking and his anxiety was skyrocketing. All he could think about was how he was going to die and he never got to see either of his friends again and how he never told them how he felt and how he let let his uncle down and...!

The man lunged and Arthur scrambled back, the gun going off in his haste to get away. Wet matter splattered across his face as the shot rang out, followed by an unnatural silence. He was too scared to open his eyes, fearful that his shot missed and he was about to die and god he didn't want to die!

Mystery barked at him, gathering his attention. He tentatively opened his eyes, he wasn't dead and that awful moaning had stopped. He was immediately greeted to the rotting flesh of the man, a large hole now gracing his head. Blood was splattered across the floor and wall, slowly pooling around the head as well. He clamped his hand over his mouth. He had just... killed someone!

A horrified sob rose from his throat and his legs gave out underneath him. What had he done?

Part 2

#fanfiction #my fanfiction #zombie au #mystery skulls #mystery skulls animated #msa Arthur #Mostly Arthur at the moment #Vivi and Lewis mentioned #my wrting #my work #looking-to-the-moon

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myprincecandy · 5 years

Text

[ENG] 20190123 SinaEnt/Yuqing Lab interview with ZTAO

[ENG] 20190123 SinaEnt/Yuqing Lab interview with #ZTAO

Link to original: https://goo.gl/Fy2GGN

Huang Zitao: Don’t be too cocky in front of me, newbies! You’re “dead” if I catch you!

Today, I went to have a chat with Huang Zitao

Friends, have you ever accidentally unliked or unfriended your idol because he changed his social media account id?

That has happened to Huang Zitao’s fans.

Recently, Huang Zitao, in conjunction with his upcoming new drama, changed his weibo ID to “Chong Liming is coming”, something that would definitely confused people who don’t follow him (Chong Liming is the character he’s playing)

Paired with that anime avatar, if you’re not a fan, who could tell that this is a star???

Since Huang Zitao changed his id to “Chong Liming is coming” before the drama Yan Shi Fan is due to air.. does that mean that, after it airs, it will change to ““Chong Liming is now here”, “Chong Liming is leaving”, ““Chong Liming goodbye”…. Does he know that even for paying members, you can only change your weibo ID 5 times in a year?

“Why don’t you ask him directly” says my boss, showing up behind me, with a glass of tea in hand.

“eh? My hand shook, and then as destiny would have it, I got the assignment to go to the press conference for Yan Shi Fan.1 minute before it struck one on 22nd Jan 2019, I made my way through loads of floral displays from fans to go meet Taotao. I’ll remember this minute because of the strange mixture of smells from the roses and the packed lunches by the side.

We’ve only just finished setting up the machines when Huang Zitao arrived in a hurry, saying “ah I’m so sorry”, while commenting to me about lunch being too spicy. Then he went asking for water from his staff. Your Tao is still so very interesting and cute.

After sitting down, Tao suddenly stood up again, saying that he wishes to see how his new hairstyle looks. He says that since it’s new, he doesn’t know whether it looks good on camera.

After checking the photograph, he said he’s pretty satisfied with it, and would give his hairstyle, “6-7 points I guess~”

“Didn’t you say you’re pretty satisfied? That’s only a passing score?”

“well it’s for the camera, so it’ll be perfect if I was thinner.” As he said that, he kneaded/pinched his chin.

Sparring verbally with me and then with himself

The new hairstyle is to refresh himself, give himself a new start in the new year. Taotao says that it doesn’t matter if it looks good or not. Him checking the camera is also because he had “rested for slightly more than half a month, and didn’t do much except eat every day.” So he feared that he would look fat in front of the cameras, after all, he still has to be scrutinized by the rest of the world.

“If I were thinner, and my chin was sharper, it would be perfect.” .

Speaking of sharp chins, that reminds me of the much treasured bout of happiness brought about the many videos of Huang Zitao’s Little Elf.

I told him that many folks are waiting for updates to that Little Elf series, so when is he intending to do an update to satisfy the fans?

Adorable as he is, Taotao refused, saying, “if you all feel that that is good, that watch the old stuff. I won’t do it again simply because it got popular after you all watched it. I won’t! He says he is not willing to just simply following what is trending/popular, not even if he is the one who started it!

Fine, Boss Huang is really very strict.

I quietly rebutted, “You previously said that Little Elf is ugly, but yet your actions say otherwise!”

Taotao explained that he was really letting go of himself when talking that way, “you have to know that when I’m recording that, the sound and my expressions are all especially…tsk.. ah! You won’t want to see how I actually look like when recording Little Elf. “

We all know that this year, all the male idol audition variety shows will be highly competitive against each other. I asked him if he had any suggestions for the boys.

Taotao feel that he definitely is supportive if the candidate is grounded with his dream/goal in mind. However, many youngsters these days are very cocky/overconfident. They don’t even greet their seniors when they see them, he feels that that is very rude.

He gave an example. Previously when filming an advert, he overheard a staff member saying that a newbie basically just refused to film on set, and even threw the script at others.

“Why be an idol/artiste in that case? In any way, don’t let me catch them in action. They’re dead if so, really.”

Cried for 8 months, nearly sunk into depression

I didn’t’ forget the purpose of my trip, and so I asked him if he was going to change his weibo id again after the drama “Yan Shi Fan” airs. “

Taotao replied firmly, “Nope! I know that you can only change your weibo id 5 times a year.” So he’ll keep Chong Liming in the “he’s coming” condition, until he finishes watching the drama with everyone.

“So have you thought about what your next ID is going to be yet?”

“Yes!”

“What is it?”

Huang Zitao (so so innocent) , “It’s XXXXX” (am not revealing it for now for Taotao’s sake)

“You do know that by revealing it, everyone will go fight for that ID first?”

Huang Zitao “??? Then why did you trick me???”

After have tricked Taotao, I felt really good, and so I continued to tell him that fans tried to hold on to his previous id “@CPOPKING-黄子韬”, in case he wanted it back.

Taotao said it was alright, “It’s ok, hold on it. That id’s a bit much anyway, there are many news ids out there~”

Looks like Taotao’s really quite satisfied with the character Chong Liming. He’s not even going to look back on that weibo id change.

When asked about how he understands Chong Liming’s character, he says, “He’s someone who’s so much more tired/exhausted living than dead, and cries 3 times a day.”

So he had crying scenes every day, and a major crying scene every 3 days. “I basically cried for 8 months, and nearly got depression.” Huang Zitao said, Jackie Chan even sent him a very long message, telling him how to deal with all the negative emotions that result from acting.

Making his own real person variety show

Before coming for the interview, I have asked fans for questions on weibo, so Taotao answered some here. Such as the concert that everyone’s so concerned about.

Taotao says that there’ll only be one concert this year and it’ll be in June in Shanghai. You all can start planning your schedule~ He says he wishes to rest for the first half of the year, so he won’t be filming dramas. He’s just going to write songs, prep for his concert and he also intends to release an album this year.

That’s called resting?? Ok…

So what does he like to do when “resting”?

Taotao looked at me, perplexed. “Go out! Play! What else? Eat & drink and basically have fun. “

And then he started counting for me, saying that he likes driving, watching movies (having watched Bumblebee and Aquaman recently, he recommends it to fans) and getting friends to go over to his place for a chit chat. But they can only chat now, because he’s gotten the rabies vaccine shot, so he can’t drink.

After “resting”, in May, his company will be cooperating with another platform to present a travel related real person/life variety show, and he has two dramas coming in the latter half of the year.

Even though he doesn’t want to exhaust himself through variety shows, he feels that he should still do at least one per year. Because he likes travelling, so he wishes to do the sort of programme where one really focuses on the travel, with no missions. “It’s the sort of variety show that shows you who’s generous and who’s petty, the kind of loads of details.”

“So are you a generous or petty traveller?” I thought he would say the former, but he’s very clear about the situation. “It depends on who I’m with. If I don’t like that person, I won’t spare a single cent. But if it’s someone I like, then it doesn’t matter. “

So now I have gotten all the key information for you all. I said good bye to Tao and walked out of the interview room, as I heard him say (cutely) to staff, “ahhh haven’t done an interview in ages, I feel I don’t know how to talk much anymore~~”

Now there are plenty of fans outside the interview room waiting to enter the hall. I revealed to the fans as I left, “Huang Zitao’s hairstyle today is very handsome”. Everyone went ahhhhhh!!

So I left amidst all those envious looks..

A video of an interview is coming but here’s an extract of it:

Q: Your first impression of Chong Liming when reading the script?

Tao: In the beginning I had not read the script, it was the producer Liang Zhenhua who told me the story. I took on the project because he absolutely moved me. Chong Liming is the sort who cries three times a day, no joke. I basically have crying scenes every day and a big one every 3 days. He’s actually a very pitiful person. He looks as if nothing matters on the surface, but he’s just holding it all inside. Basically he’s so much more exhausted living than dying.

Q: Do you think you share similarities with Chong Liming

Tao: I don’t think so. I live a happy life (laughs heartily)

Q: You’ve set up a new company in 2018, so what are the plans for the company?

Tao: My dad’s managing it. I’m just in charge of completing my acting projects. The plan is to well, achieve something. Hope the things produced by our company will be well liked and well received, doesn’t disappoint the market and audience. And if I’m in it, then all the more I’ll have ensure it doesn’t disappoint.

Q: Chinese New Year is near, so can you reveal your year end prize with us, Boss Huang?

Tao: My dad’s in charge of that.. I.. I want year end prize too!! Money will do!!! Hahahaha! If it’s a lucky draw, I hope others in the company will get more. If I get something big, I’ll just split it on the spot, but I’m not the lucky kind.

Q: Evaluate/comment on your two variety shows last year.

Tao: Actually, the street dance and produce 101 programs… I don’t think I’m particularly suited to those. They required more outstanding candidates. There’s not much meaning to me being a mentor. I prefer Takes A Real Man, with everyone living and experiencing life together. That sort of show I liked, so I want to make something like that.

Q: Actually everyone likes the sequence of videos which showed you getting startled/a fright. They feel it’s funny. What’s your view on that?

Tao: Pretty good. That’s my natural reaction. I feel that as an artiste, no matter what I do, be it when I’m on a variety show or the gifs produced after, it’s good that it brings laughter to all. At least everyone’s smiling because of me, that’s the energy I bring to everyone I guess.

Q: You’re not scared of being labelled a comedian?

Tao: nope. I have my works.

Q: There will be 2-300 new male idols from all those male audition shows this year. As an experienced senior, what suggestions do you have for them?

Tao: if they have their dreams in mind, then I would support. But a lot of youngsters these days are very cocky. Some don’t even manage basic courtesy, not even greeting seniors when they see them. Very arrogant and rude. For example, I overheard a staff member saying that a newbie basically just refused to film on set, and even threw the script at others. Why be an idol/artiste in that case? In any way, don’t let me catch them in action. They’re dead if so, really.

Q: So promote yourself to all those who will fall in love/like you after watching Yan Shi Fan

Tao: If you all got to know me or like me through Yan Shi Fan, I hope you all can better understand just what kind of artiste I am. When a show is airing, I’ll be super active. But when I’m working, I’ll be totally silent. That’s because of the process of me learning, accumulating experiences while trying to present a better piece of work. I believe my following works will be better and better and won’t disappoint everyone. And I hope everyone can really treat me as an actor, and not a singer who happens to be act. I really want to break that label… so If I don’t manage to with these 3 dramas, then I’ll keep trying.. next year I’ll continue to work hard at filming.. if I don’t break it by 30.. then I guess not then.. (laughs)

Q: So what happens then?

Tao: I tell you, that won’t happen. It will definitely be better and better. Can’t become an actor after Yan Shi Fan finish airing. I cried for those 8 months, almost getting depression. I messaged Jackie Chan who sent me such a long message, saying how I can deal with it. Even though you see that I’m all smiles and laugher when chasing “The Negotiator”.. well, in part that was to promote the show, but secondly, I forget that I’m the character when I’m watching it. When filming Yan Shi Fan, the happiest thing was for me to back and watch a new episode every night. So I was really exhausted filming this, I feel that all that effort will definitely be rewarded!

#ztao #huang zitao #zitao #tao

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atmilliways · 5 years

Note

Are you still doing the prompt thing? If so can you do 46 please?

I am always and forever doing the prompt thing, gentle reader. Sorry for taking so long.

(prompt meme)

This one is “Nathan, baby.” I’ve actually written something for this before, which you can read here if you like, but here’s something fresh off the top of my brain as well. In other news, this was originally going to be a different pairing, but it, ah… took a turn. In other other news, Skwisgaar is a sex addict and no one is surprised.

–

When Toki first joined the band, they all figured he was the youngest out of all five of them. He was scrawny, kind of high-voiced, and relentlessly optimistic. It was the natural assumption. Even Toki had thought that. Then it came out — at some point after their new manager had tracked down Toki’s birth certificate and obtained things like a work visa and valid passport on his behalf — that he was born in late March. Which would have been fine. Except… Nathan had been born in May. Of the same year. The jokes were relentless, and there wasn’t really anywhere he could go in their shitty shared apartment to escape them. Doesch baby want hisch bottle?Mine eyes ams older then yours, can you reads what dats say to me?Dood, I’m gonna have ta see some ID before I letcha have this. Yous, kid! Gets off my lawn!You’re the youngescht, you get up and do it. So, whens am you olds enough to drink legalies?Jest call me Grandpa! … Wait, no, don’t do theat. I’m drunk. … Sonny. Nathan hadn’t wanted to strangle a group of guys to death more since he’d made the varsity football team at fourteen and the older boys had singled him out for hazing. And the most unfair part of it all was that when he confronted Offdensen — whose fault all of this obviously was — in his swanky corner office in the nice part of the business district, the guy wouldn’t let him throttle so much as one of the bastards. “We, ah, can’t afford to miss any performances this quarter,” Charles explained patiently, “and, well, giving any of your bandmates a beating might injure their arms or hands, rendering them unable to play. Crystal Mountain won’t appreciate their newest signed band having to postpone their first official tour.”Nathan growled in frustration. Charles raised an eyebrow. “I could… speak to the rest of the guys on your behalf, if you want.”“No! That’ll just make it worse.” Nathan slouched angrily into one of the chairs in front of the desk. “Fuck. Who cares if I’m younger than Toki? It’s only by a month and a half, and I’ve done way more shit than that fucktard. Did you know we had to explain what sex was to him a couple weeks ago? He didn’t even know.”“I see.” Pausing only to jot down a note for later on a post-it, Charles folded his hands and regarded the frontman seriously. Which Nathan appreciated, because Charles wasn’t giving him any crap or just saying something dismissive and waving him off so he could get more work done. “Perhaps it would help to brainstorm some, ah, ways you might demonstrate that being the youngest doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be taken seriously.”Nathan blinked. “Uh… okay. Well… I’m the leader, right? Dethklok is my band.”“Yes, that’s one point,” Charles said. “But that might be a little on the abstract side. Best to play to your strengths, Nathan.” “You just told me I couldn’t punch or tackle anybody!”“First of all, not exactly. I told you not to punch and tackle your band mates in order to facilitate solving this particular problem, at least for now.” Charles inclined his head just a bit. “Secondly, that would be too easy. You are by far in the best physical condition out of anyone in Dethklok — although remind me to have a conversation with you about the results from your most recent liver panel, once this has been resolved.”Maybe it was shallow, but Nathan perked up a little at the compliment, while at the same time tuning out that bit about his liver completely. “You think so?”Charles nodded and steepled his fingers. “Absolutely. Toki is probably the next strongest, but he’s still recovering from the effects of malnutrition and a few other downsides of living on the streets.”Nathan found himself nodding in agreement. “Yeah, he keeps complaining about those rabies shots. I mean, it’s just a shot, why does he have to be such a pussy about it? I wish I were at risk for rabies, fucking brutal…” “Yes, well.” Charles gave him a perfunctory smile. “I wouldn’t know about that. But I hope this little chat has helped and that, ah, we should be able to stay on schedule for the upcoming tour?”It was pretty clear after that that Charles had work he wanted to get done, so Nathan left. He walked back to the apartment, hands in his pockets, idly mulling over some ideas for a song about getting bitten by a bat and turning into a rabid vampire while knowing he probably wouldn’t do anything with it. What Charles had said in his office had made sense to Nathan, at the time. The longer he walked, though, the more dissatisfied he felt. Advice was all well and good, and getting compliments on his physical prowess was a decent bonus, but it didn’t actually settle anything. So he couldn’t actually hurt any of the guys — that was fine, he could figure out some way around that. He just had to beat them at something. Maybe even just one of them. … Toki. Toki was new, the weak link. All Nathan had to do was prove he was the crybaby. Once was probably all it would take to cement that reputation with the rest of the guys forever. When he finally reached the apartment, he was disappointed to see that the van was gone. They’d pooled their money, back before they’d really had any, and bought one of those white vans that only perverts owned — there had been a token effort to repaint the thing black, except they’d put Murderface in charge of getting paint and he’d gotten the wrong kind, so it looked even shittier but in a dull, lumpy kind of way. But the thing still ran, on a good day, and getting it to start usually meant celebrating with a bar crawl. Which was kind of a bummer to be left out of, but Nathan figured that at least it gave him more time to come up with a plan to take Toki down a notch. Maybe if he started scribbling down ideas in his trust notebook, something good would jump out at him. When he let himself into the dingy three-bedroom, he heard something. A soft, rhythmic squeaking. Heavy breathing… Two sets of heavy breathing. Nathan rolled his eyes in annoyance. It wasn’t exactly unusual for Skwisgaar to stay home and invite a skank (or three) over for some fun while the rest of them were out, but he and Nathan shared a room. He knew from experience that whatever the guy had going on in there could take hours. Better to just barge in with his eyes screwed mostly closed to avoid seeing anything that might scar him for life, get his notebook, and get the the hell out. Ideally without tripping over any discarded granny panties like last time. Ugh. Or maybe it would be someone young and actually still hot… It was a toss-up, really. You never knew with Skwisgaar.He put one hand on the doorknob, the other over his eyes, and bellowed, “Skwisgaar, I’m coming in!”Three things happened immediately. Nathan pushed the door open with a little too much emphasis, sending it against the adjoining wall with a bang. It bounced back and he caught it with both hands to keep from getting smacked in the face. Skwisgaar, with a yell of “WAITS,” tried to jump up and lunge for the door, but got his feet tangled in the blanket. He ended up rolling off the bed and landing on the floor with a hard thud. Toki shrieked and grabbed for a pillow to hide his naked chest. For a moment, there was nothing but deep, awkward silence as Skwisgaar picked himself up and sat on the edge of the bed with the blanket covering his lap. “What…” Nathan looked back and forth between the two guitarists, before finally settling his glare on the lead. “… the FUCK, Skwisgaar! What did I fucking tell you? No screwing anyone who’s in the band! That’s how your last seven bands ended up breaking up!”“Knowds I shouldn’t had tells you dat,” the Swede grumbled under his breath. “And you!” Nathan jabbed an accusatory finger in Toki’s direction. “What the hell are you doing, covering yourself up like a damn girl? You don’t have tits!”“Sorries,” Toki squeaked. He did not release his death grip on the pillow, or lower it even slightly. Nathan pinched the bridge of his nose, unconsciously mimicking something his mother had always done whenever she was particularly exasperated with him. “And god, don’t even get me started on how fucking gay this is. This is really going to fuck with the band dynamics.”“Pft, no it won’ts,” Skwisgaar said dismissively. “We’ve already beens fucking for a weeks and none of yous jackoffs notice, no big deals. Besides—” He smirked. “—I don’ts remembers no complaints to suckings yous off dat one times.”Toki’s eyes widened even further, and he stared at the frontman with a cross between nervous solidarity and mild jealousy. Through the roar of blood rushing to his face, Nathan wondered if it was possible to open your eyes so wide that your eyeballs just fell right out of their sockets. “That’s… different,” he mumbled. “We were both really drunk, so it didn’t count. And… I didn’t realize you remembered. That.” Just thinking about it, to his continued embarrassment, sent some of his blood rushing south as well. Drunk or not, that had been a pretty good night. “Well I does, so whats?” Skwisgaar shrugged, his long blond hair clinging slightly to his sweaty skin. Whatever he and Toki had been doing before Nathan had barged in, he must’ve been really into it. “You had never hads your cock sucks by a guy, and little Tokis here never hads sex with anothers porsons evers. Now you both has. No big deals, you don’t gots to be a bigs baby abouts it.”The word baby made Nathan’s eye twitch, and he was one hundred percent sure that was intentional. Part of that insight was gut instinct; the rest was the way Skwisgaar licked his plush lips and winked lasciviously. Nathan knew he was being manipulated, but it was working anyway. By the time he kicked the door closed behind him he already had his sleeveless t-shirt over his head and onto the floor. “Anyones here ever dones de threesome befores?” Skwisgaar asked with a shit-eating grin. “Noes? Well, pays attentions, school ams in session—”Nathan reached the older man’s bed and shoved him down flat on his back, landing across Toki’s lap. That took care of the leer. He straddled Skwisgaar’s hips and barely had to press down to feel his arousal pushing up beneath the blankets. Toki must have seen it too, because he let out a gasp and followed Nathan’s lead, grabbing for Skwisgaar’s wrists to pin his hands above his head. The younger guitarist looked up at Nathan with an earnest puppy dog look. He really just wanted to fit in and be accepted. Nathan, flushed with pleasure at coming out on top in this situation both literally and figuratively, magnanimously gave him a nod of approval before turning the majority of his attention back to the struggling Swede. “You’re not in charge here, Skwisgaar,” Nathan growled, putting more of his weight on him to prevent any real squirming around. He was starting to regret not taking his jeans off yet — what little movement the trapped guitarist could manage was targeted and stimulating — but there would be time for that soon. Right now he had a point to prove. In fact… He’s the weak link, Nathan realized with a feral, triumphant grin. Skwisgaar, not Toki. Of course! Offdensen had even said it, Toki would probably be among the strongest of all of them once the malnutrition wore off. Murderface was borderline scrawny but the guy bounced back from most things like a rubber ball and always had a knife on him, and Pickles was small but scrappy, and claimed to know twenty-two different ways to kill a man with a broken bottle. But Skwisgaar, his default approach to life was fucking. His libido was legendary, but it was also his weak spot. Anyone who’d ever been within fifty feet of him on the rare occasion a girl took off and left him with blue balls knew that. Making him submit would get him and Toki both to shut up about the whole baby thing, and the other two guys would get bored faster if they were the only ones making the jokes. Teeth still bared, Nathan leaned down and nipped at the pale skin connecting Skwisgaar’s neck and shoulder. He felt Skwisgaar suck in a sharp breath under him and, beneath that, Toki’s legs tensing. The kid was wound so tight that, Nathan realized belatedly, his erection was pretty much right in their faces… Time to see how far this situation could be pushed. Skwisgaar’s eyes widened as Nathan grabbed his chin between one thumb and forefinger. That other time they’d messed around, it hadn’t been anything more than straight-to-business pleasure, and he could tell Skwisgaar was wondering if some sort of kiss was about to happen. It was tempting — just to mess with him, of course, of course, what kind of guy would Nathan be if he admitted to himself that kissing was more than just a means to get ladies to agree to have sex — but no. He turned the blond’s mouth towards Toki and gruffly ordered, “Suck it.” And although Skwisgaar rolled his eyes, his pupils dilated at the command, and he did as he was told. Toki’s head hit the shitty plywood headboard with a thunk. Fuck, Nathan thought as he watched Skwisgaar go to town, rolling into the task with gusto. He really, really wishing he’d taken his jeans off earlier. Last time he hadn’t exactly been in a position to, you know, watch, but he remembered how good those lips had felt.

Nathan scrambled back up onto his knees on the edge of the bed and yanked on his zipper so hard it nearly came off, but holy shit it was a relief. For a moment he got lost in just watching and just palming himself through the front of his tented boxers, but then Toki whimpered. What a baby, Nathan thought, and that reminded him of the increasingly forgettable point of all this. He scrambled off the bed to shuck both his pants and boxers in one go, and sat next to Toki at the head of the bed. Skwisgaar was kind of in the way, but Nathan just threw his legs over the guy and used his bony-ass hip as a leg rest. Then he grabbed the rhythm guitarist’s hand and shoved it towards his cock.

The hand gripped, and Nathan groaned. In this, it seemed, Toki needed little to no instruction, presumably because he’d been practicing this particular activity on himself for longer than he’d known what to call it. No willing to be outdone, a second later Skwisgaar’s hand was there too, taking over any of Nathan’s length that needed attention. The frontman even couldn’t muster any shits to give when Toki’s head thumped down on his shoulder, mouth turning wetly against his skin to muffle the squeaky little sounds that Skwisgaar was wringing out of him, or when Skwisgaar started grinding against the backs of his thighs. It felt too good, too warm, too temporary to bother with second thoughts, and he really hadn’t ever had a threesome before.

Maybe this was something to look into doing more often… With, uh, chicks, of course. Obviously. It didn’t take long after that. Toki came with a choked cry into Nathan’s hair, his grip spasming just right to bring Nathan to the edge but disengaging as he slumped bonelessly in the other direction. Nathan growled and groped blindly until he found a handful of blonde hair and tugged Skwisgaar’s obliging mouth over to finish. He felt immensely pleased with himself for managing to turn an otherwise aggravating day around, with very little resistance or backtalk from the other two men. That was real leadership. Nathan’s last thought before he went over the edge was that if anyone was a big gay baby it was probably Skwisgaar, for being so into sucking cock. And for swallowing both times. And getting off to it into his own hand. Nathan waited a few minutes to get his breath back, then languorously got to his feet. He surveyed the battlefield of tangled sheets, strewn pillows, and sweaty, limp guitarists with a warm glow of dominance and superiority, then left without comments to take a shower. It wasn’t until he was under the hot spray and working some 2-in-1 shampoo into his hair that he realized, none of them had the excuse of alcohol to hide behind. He’d been basically sober — at least, as sober as anyone who’s breakfast had consisted of beer and potato chips could be — and he hadn’t smelled anything particularly strong on Skwisgaar or Toki’s breaths. So what did that mean? Shit, what if it happened again?After a moment of silent contemplation, Nathan shrugged and continued washing. As far as he was concerned, his problem was solved. Everyone would still be able to play for the tour, so Offdensen would be pleased, even though this probably hadn’t been what he’d had in mind when advising Nathan to use strength to his advantage. And however things went from this point, he sure as hell wasn’t going to let it fuck up his band.

#metalocalypse #nathan explosion #charles foster offdensen #skwisgaar skwigelf #toki wartooth #my fanfiction #my fanfic

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insomniac-dot-ink · 6 years

Text

Blue Shoes, CH1

Genre: wlw, urban fantasy, supernatural

Words: 3.7k

Summary: A story of a werewolf that is becoming more wolf than girl and a witch with no powers waitressing at a local diner.

How do you save someone from them self when both parties are particularly hard headed and prone to pouts of self-destruction, a study

Tipping:

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Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Chapter 1: The Girl at Table 12

warning for mentions of past injury and puking

When I was seven I passed a cat huddling from a thunderstorm under an old brown truck. It was a gnarled brutish thing with wet fur plastered to it’s back and mud caking it’s side. It must have been caught in a small mudslide or maybe crawling through the trenches of Vietnam. One or the other.

It had deep cuts on its forearms, stark indents that stood out against it’s grey fur, I couldn’t tell if they were new or not. Some of its whiskers looked like they were singed off- by fire or bad kids or a world that threw cats to the devil and locked the door.

Under the mud there were obvious mats and tangled fur that weighed heavy on it, making it look beefier than it was.

It’s eyes were angry slits and teeth bared like a barbed-wire fence, at the time I approached the battered cat because that was the sort of girl I was back then. I put my hand out and looked at it’s huddling mud streaked body, I waddled closer to the car and peaked underneath, “The rain will stop soon.” A promise. The cat hissed softly, it’s lips pulled back against sharp yellow teeth and eyes glowing amongst the dimness. I adjusted my little pink raincoat and don’t even cry when I hear another thunderclap far away.

The cat doesn’t budge, I stick my bottom lip out.

“Come on kitty,” I reached out under the truck, maybe I planned to grab it by the scruff like I’d seen mama cat’s do with kittens. Maybe I thought it needed a hug.

It’s hard to remember exactly why I wanted to touch the mangy thing, but the pain was hard to forget. A red hot sticky shock that shot across the center of my hand, a long bloody gash across the back that tore deep into the skin. I screamed and jumped back, reeling from the attack, the cat hissing loudly and arched it’s back as it stayed in place.

That’s the day I got my first rabies shot.

That cat was mangy, wretched, and looked like it had gone through basic training with a wind storm. I remember that cat when she walks through the door that night and a single thought goes through my head: she looks worse.

It was 3am, closer to 4, and I my eyes were unfocused on a TV monitor as an ad for a bowflex machine comes on. Just 29.99, order now.

We had been watching Comedy Central a second ago but Bernie had heard a word bleeped out and reminded us this was a family establishment. I snorted, because it wasn’t like any kids were hunkering down with us right now.

She came in just as the bowflex lady stretched her muscles and smiled into the camera, sparkling. I was in an ad-induced stupor by the counter at the time- still sulking from having lost the rock-paper-scissors tournament 3 hours ago.

It had almost turned into a knife-fight when Bernie had announced one of us could go home early, meaning avoiding the curfew and not being trapped in here until sunrise.

Of course, I would have been here anyway, I needed the extra shift, but it was the principle of the matter. Being forcibly locked into your place of work with customers was probably one of the rings of hell.

The girl who walked in through door probably had seen some of those rings and then some. I could have gotten her in trouble for escaping around past 11, but I wasn’t about to call the sheriff or curfew hotline or whatever it was they set up.

I blink a couple times and go very stiff.

My mouth hung open and one of the few patrons in the joint gasps lowly. It was the heavy-smoking lady who had been murmuring to the busboy about her lousy husband and last divorce and bad hay fever for hours now.

She falls silent, I blink again.

The figure’s clothes are torn from Sunday to Tuesday, long strips of dirt-caked fabric trailing on the ground after them and hanging loosely off the person’s body, like mummy wrappings. Under the clothes is muddy-cracked skin and visible small cuts.

Her posture was loose and weighted, like something immense rested on her shoulders tops and unbalanced her spine.

She sagged at every corner like a tattered doll filled with sand, her face was covered by chin-length dark hair that was also full of dirt clumps and at least 2 twigs and a couple crumpled leaves. Her head hung almost to her chest and I can’t make out her expression.

I squint my eyes at it all, of course this would happen at 3am. It was always something.

“Are you... okay?” I ask cautiously and wait for something,

She was barefoot and limping toward the counter, I stand up straight and summon up the ancient words: ‘sorry ma’am, no shirt, no shoes, no service.’ But the words don’t come and she keeps walking. I catch her eyes for just a moment as she passes, the briefest heart beat as she glances up through her dirty bangs. Her gaze is dark and bloodshot, veins as bright red as hot irons.

Red as harlot’s lipstick, red as a cardinals breast, red as sin and every time I cut my knee in gym class.

“Fine,” she says in one breathless tired word, finally answering my question and then turning away. She didn’t look fine.

She limps toward the very distant corner table and collapses into the booth, I’m remembering that damn feral cat that mauled me.

“Ronnie,” I turn around in tight circles and try to locate the busboy on duty, he’s standing slacked jawed at the other side of the room. I bustle over in his direction. “Where’s Bernie?” I hiss at him, moments like these made me grateful for a manager.

Ronnie just looks at me dumbly and his eyes dart back over to the new customer. “Casey...”

“Excuse me,” I hear a ragged thin voice croak across the small diner, it sounds like it’s been dragged across the ocean floor- full of salt and brine.

The two homeless men and Dolores eye the newcomer. She seems to sway back and forth in place, “Could I have a water?”

I turn my head slowly, the red bloodshot eyes coming for me again. They are hazy and sunken into her head, like shadows of themselves, I flinch.

“Uh,” I clear my throat.

“If you could… please,” the voice says faintly, I hear someone moving before I do.

Ronnie pivots toward the kitchen and quickly brings out a glass of tap water, he always was a better person than me with his small face and large round blue eyes. He flashes me a look that says he’s not going to be covering my tables all night though.

I take a deep breath and turn toward the kitchens, “Bernie,” I call out and make a beeline for the freezer, “Bernie, we have a thing.”

I wander in past the grills where our one chef on duty is filing her nails down to a blunt point, we ignore each other. Sam immersed in trying to rid herself of fingertips and me in trying not to get lectured on etiquette at just that moment. I hear coughing from the back room and make a sharp turn, kicking a box aside as a reach for the door.

I yank the pantry open, “Hey!” I say loudly as an older woman with a pinched look on her face sits up. She has tight steel gray curls and a flat-iron mouth that didn’t lend itself to smiling.

She shifts her generous body toward me, turning on the floor and facing the light. Her curls are flat on one side where she must have been napping on a sack of potatoes.

“It’s my fucking lunch break,” she says waving her hand in the air, “go handle whatever it is on your own.” I set my jaw, “someone just walked in from, I dunno, the set of a disaster movie,” I shift from foot to foot, “she might be tripping or something.” That should get Bernie’s attention, I would bring up the bloodshot eyes in a moment I needed to.

“Casey,” Bernie says slowly, pitchedly, “you can either handle it or handle my foot up your ass. It’s been eight hours since my last break.” The ‘fuck you’ energy was very high in the air and I take a deep resigned breath.

“If I get stabbed tonight I’m suing,” I say with my shoulders hunched and back straight, Bernie chuckles.

“Duck and weave my girl,” she shakes her head, “it’s not like we haven’t had transients in here before.” Bernie was closing her eyes again, I only sigh. “Handle it.”

“Yeah, but most of them don’t have ‘murder scene’ written all over them.” The rabies shot in the ass feels like a phantom pain right then. Bernie rolls over and starts ignoring me.

I reluctantly wander back into the main area and try not to look into the corner, Ronnie is still eyeing me. His chin is jutted out and he doesn’t stop looking very fixedly in my direction.

“What?” I finally ask and Ronnie raises his eyebrows and his eyes dart over to table 12.

“That’s your table.” He says in his pale, quiet voice.

I grind my teeth, “You’re the one that served her!” I murmur lowly to him and he wrinkles his nose. “You want me to tell Louis you’re shirking your tables again?” It was a threat, his huge eyes shrinking into darts. He reminded me of a little brother threatening to tell mom and I straighten my back.

“Whatever,” I turn away and clench my hands, “fine.” It’s not like I hadn’t handled worse, it was Gilford.

I meander my way back over to the war-zone victim and raise my eyebrows.

She lifts her head slowly and I see thin cut marks along her chin and cheeks. I take my place next to her and lift a notepad up and give a smile, “Welcome to Sue’s Diner, can I get you anything?”

I input the usual phrase and watch curiously to see what would come out.

The girl was already done with her first glass of water, I made a mental note to go get another one along with filling up Arthur’s coffee cup on the way over.

She seems to swallow dryly and I wait for a good minute before anything actually happens. Her eyes are dull and distant, like looking off into a dark ocean. I have a strange memory of one of my classmates having this same look on his face when he was trying an experimental drug called ‘Eevee’ for the first time.

She swallows again and her head tilts to the side, “are you Sue?” I make a face, I had gotten that question before. I lean over her instead, “nope,” I put on The Usual Smile, “jus’ the next best thing.” The girl gives me a lost, almost desperate look, her eyes glaze over and I wait another long moment. “Casey.” I glance down at my employee name tag, “that’s me?” It was a question. Somehow her demeanor was making me feel a little lost too, was I Casey? Was I in purgatory? Was a stuck in a diner with a bunch of strangers and someone probably on the worst drug-trip of their life? Possibly.

It was Gilford.

She reaches out and I take a mild step backward, I don’t know what she’s reaching for, but she comes up empty and then slumps over again.

“Uh,” I take another step back, she reeks of fresh earth, blood, and something I might describe as ‘fungus.’ I consider really calling the cops, she was out past curfew and… up to something, but I’m also not in the mood for making a statement to the cops.

She retracts her hand and takes a deep rattling breath, she looks around, “Can I have an omelette with… eggs?” I take it as a good sign she’s still talking, a bad sign that she was about to make Customer of the Month (a little award among the staff to counter ‘Employee of the Month’).

“What type, hun?” I ask slowly while her looks like her head is about to spin, I wait. “We have Denver Omelette, Vegetarian Omelette, Egg-ceptional Omelette, Pennsylvania Delight, and Mexican omelette.” She nodded her head up and down continually as if processing that and I was afraid it might get stuck in that motion. Another long awkward pause descends.

“What was the first one?” She finally asks.

“Denver Omelette.” “And second one?” She was definitely winning Customer of the Month. I smile instead, “Veggie.” She lulls her head back and seems to contemplate the ceiling, this was taking a lot of waiting.

She clears her throat, “What’s your favorite?” “Oh,” I pretend to think, “If you’re looking for eggs, the Egg-ceptional one is the one for you.” The girl looked ten seconds away from passing out, “can I have that… and pancakes. And hot chocolate. And bacon. And another omelette.” I write that all down and I have feeling I was about to experience Dine and Dash or Dine and Die on Me. “How will you be paying today, cash or credit?” I should at least check.

I raise my eyebrows when the girl pulls out a muddy wallet from God knows where, she yanks out a filthy fifty from the front pocket. “Cash.” She puts her down on the table. “And just… call my name when it’s ready.” “And what’s your…?” The girl’s head was on table, “What’s your name hun?”

She had stopped responding, her messy hair was splayed out on the table and forehead pressed down into the wood.

I consider poking her to check her vitals or something, but touching a sleeping Dirt Monster was also a good way to get stabbed (pictured: waitress, listening to bowflex commercials, pictured: waitress making headlines as ‘cute latina girl in a tragic dirt-and-knife-and-poking accident’).

I turn around and go stiffly back to the kitchen, I knock on the walls as I walk in, “We got an order Sam.” Sam Honey sticks her head of the kitchen window, done with her nail business it seemed. “Lovely!” She was always way too cheery for night shifts, I had a few theories on this but none of them held much water. “I was getting so bored back here.”

I hand over the paper, “don’t spit in it or anything. This ones a livewire.” “Never, I would never,” she looks actively appalled at the idea, giving me the Come to Jesus look and then disappearing with the order.

I hear the shuffling of feet and Ronnie makes it to my side again, like a little shadow that was happy to appear and disappear according to the rules of Social Anxiety.

“Did she say anything weird to you?” He asks curiously.

I shrug, “like what? ‘My shower broke and hey, a diner seemed ideal right now.” “She on something,” He frowns, “cocaine?” I give a thin smile, “My money is on acid.” Sam comes out in a few minutes and she bets on really strong weed. I roll my eyes at that and we get a small pool going.

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

I was shifting from foot to foot.

Hrrrrrnk

I wince, a loud snore fills the restaurant.

Hrrrnk

I hold the plates of hot food a little higher. “Okay,” I breath deeply but not through my nose, “alright.”

Hrrrrnk

She sounded a little like she choking on a piece of wet paper while snorting a packet of koolaid (something I had done and was not proud of).

I bump the side of the table with my hip, “hey,” I bump a little harder, “foods here ma’am.”

I don’t get so much as a wiggle from her, I wrinkle my nose, I didn’t plan on touching her at that exact moment. I put one plate of food down and reach for a sugar packet.

“This is for both of our own goods,” I shake the sugar packet, “so like… you should still tip.” I throw the sugar packet directly at her nose, she twitches.

“Hey lady!” I say again and throw a second sugar packet at her. “Come on.” Third sugar packet.

“Ah!” The packet bounces off her chin and the girl startles awake, throwing herself completely backward and her red eyes darting around quickly. Her chest heaved as she look back and forth, “where the hell am I?” I take a deep steady breaths, maybe she was better now. “Foods here.” I deposit the large tray of eggs and pancakes and a hot chocolate in front of her.

She blinks a couple times, seeming to process this. “Thanks.” I just nod, “there you go hun. Take your time.” It was almost 5am by then, one more hour of the curfew and then I could go home.

She just blinks one more time and picks up a fork with her dirty hand, I contemplate pointing out we had a perfectly good bathroom to wash her hands in.

The girl was already shoving food into her mouth, “it’s June.” I pause, the girl was halfway through choking down one of her omelettes, she mumbles, “June.” “Okay?” “For my name,” she says slowly, “when waking me up. You could have called June.” I just nod ever so slightly, “I’ll keep that in mind.” I turn my back on the odd girl and let her continue eating or whatever it is vacuuming up eggs into your mouth is.

I fill up another coffee cup for Arthur and slip back behind the counter, I exhale deeply as I see the back of Bernie’s head, finally come from her lunch break.

“Looks like we have a full staff again.” I say loudly and see Bernie whip around to look at me.

Her mouth is a hard line, harder than usual, “Get rid of that one.” My heart drops into my shoes, my brow folds in, “you told me to handle it.” I feel like a five-year-old stomping her feet at her mom. “I did. Plus, she does have money.” “I can’t expect you lot to take care of anything, can I?” Bernie was keeping a fine curdling glare on her face, “bunch of incompetents!”

I imagine retracting my hands around the older woman’s throat, “I handled it.”

Bernie keeps going, “She’s not wearing shoes!”

Ronnie shifted back and forth, “she’s got money.” Bernie tuts, “no shirt, no shoes, no service, how hard is that? And what if the sheriff comes in, we’ll have to explain letting in curfew-breakers.”

I make a face, “it’s not like we have to tell them.” Bernie was still mumbling to herself, “and what were you betting on with Sam? Cocaine? Whiskey? Weed? I don’t need that nonsense here.” I could have groaned so loudly my soul left my body, “look, she’ll just eat and leave.” I fold my hands over my chest, feeling the need to defend my choices. “It’s not a big deal.” Bernie grumbles at me, “Casey, what did I tell you? Handle it, did you? No.” I push my sunflower-yellow hair away from my face, “seriously?” She folds her arms over her chest, “seriously.”

I growl, “what do you want me to do?” Bernie jabs her fingers toward the table, “get her out, call an ambulance, do something like you should have done before.” I groan loudly and get torn between making money and joining a ‘punched your boss before you starved on the street’ club. It we weren’t all stuck here and if I wasn’t one of the few people who was long-term at this job I might have had a go at her. Instead, all of our sleep-deprived asses mentally flip each other off and go our separate ways.

The girl is still eating.

Bernie pokes my side before she leaves, “now.” I push my hair back in frustration and go little by little back to table 12. It takes all my willpower not to just take my apron off and declare myself jobless.

I creep up to the same table again, she’s eating slowly, taking one huge bite after the next, stripping pieces off and chewing meticulously, like it hurt her. She is just as worn and malaise as before.

I clear my throat and wait for her to look up.

Like before, she takes a clean minute to lift her head. “Hello?” She seemed lost again, I huff tiredly. “We’re closing in a few minutes.” It was a good a lie as any.

The girl, June, looks back in a daze. “I have money.” “I know.” I itch my wrist, “we’re just… closing.”

“Can’t go.” She keeps eating, “I need… this.” I rake a hand through my split-ends, which were plentiful after too many dye jobs and not enough conditioner.

June was still taking even ginormous bites, I square my shoulders.

“I can get you like… five more minutes, but you do have to leave. The pool should have local showers? Only a few bucks. You could go there.” She shakes her head, “where is this?” She asks in her same cracked, weary tone.

I tilt my head to the side, “the pool is down Warring street and-” “No.” She pauses and covers her mouth, “where is all of this?” “Uh,” I scratch the back of my neck, “Gilford.” She raises her eyebrows, “oh,” she says slowly, “good.” I make a face, I rarely ever heard someone be happy to get stuck in Gilford. I examine her one last time, “the sheriff comes around at 6.” She takes another long moment, “Cool.” “You might want to head out before then.” Her big hazy eyes look back at me and we exchange a very long look, maybe I’m looking for white powder under her nose or the smell of skunk. She covers her mouth again.

“I don’t feel well.” “I know,” I try to sound soothing, “do you need to call someone? We could get you someone.” You just need to go.

She just shakes her head, “Waitress, Casey, I.” “Yeah?” I ask cautiously, June sways back and forth, I prompt again, “yes?”

She looks up at me, eyes empty and distant. “You’re beautiful.” Her face was pale and empty. I tilt my head, “You don’t look so g-”

The girl violently jerks forward and a loud retching wet sound follows, I don’t have a second to react as warm lumpy liquid cascades down onto my blue converse. Eggs and pancakes and hot chocolate slurry hits my shins and my entire body seizes up.

My face contorts, “fuck.”

That’s how I learn the lesson about large feral cats all over again.

#wlw #sapphic #urban fantasy #werewolves #original writing #witches #original story #blue shoes #f/f #my work #supernatural romance #TW for blood

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