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ilalos · 3 years

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Lavender dreams (Anthony Bridgerton x OC)-Part 1/3

Word count: 3.1k

Anthony stormed into his office after breakfast with his mother following close. The proper introductions were made when Miss Grace, or Gigi as she preferred to be called, entered the dining room; he had ignored the little somersault that attacked his heart when he made eye contact with the young girl and instead of acknowledging the feeling chose to finish eating as soon as humanly possible and left the table in a haste.

“How could you not notify me of this visit mother? The responsibility of finding her a suitable match falls on me and I know nothing about this girl, do you?” he tried to keep his voice down, but the exasperation he felt still showed in the form of harsh whispers.

“I didn’t tell you because I know she won’t have a problem finding a suitor that would be interested in her” Violet sat down tiredly looking at her exasperated son.

“And how are you so sure of that?”

“Well, she is an only daughter to a wealthy man, she is a well-read young woman and an amazing piano player, not to mention her dowry is obviously substantial” she gave him a pointed ‘I told you so’ glare “and of course, she is beautiful”

“Even worst then, we’ll have to make sure that whoever marries her-“

“We won’t do anything but I’ll make sure she loves the man she chooses to marry and he does her, that was Rose’s wish and that’s what I’ll do” she stood up not wanting to hear any more of her son’s antics.

Meanwhile, in the drawing-room things seemed to be running smoothly as Gigi read a novel and Eloise sat next to her reading the latest Lady Whistledown, while Benedict draws the pair in his sketchbook.

“Ugh! I can’t believe tomorrow is the day where our whole future is defined by the judgment of the queen” Eloise couldn’t keep her discontent in after reading the suppositions of who could be this season’s Incomparable “Can you believe it? Tomorrow our settling down begins” she sighed dramatically.

“Stop scaring the girl, Eloise” Benedict chastised with a smile, not looking up from his sketch.

“It’s not like I have a choice on the matter, so I try not to worry too much about it” Gigi gave her a small smile as if trying to comfort her.

“Right?! Society makes us feel like we have no choice, we either settle for a boring man who will hopefully be interesting enough to-“

“I don’t think she meant that she is pressured by society, dear sister” chuckled Benedict

“Oh, then pray tell me what you meant Grace”

“My father is very ill” started Gigi with a sad look as she let the book fall on her lap “I’m his only daughter and he wishes to see me married and in love before his passing”

Silence filled the room after Gigi finished speaking, she picked her book back up and resumed her reading when Eloise’s voice suddenly cut through the quiet atmosphere.

“You could marry one of my brothers, you know?” She said it more as thought said out loud than an actual suggestion and it caused Benedict to loudly scratch his pencil against the paper of his drawing.

“I don’t think that would be a wise suggestion sister” he racked his brain trying to come up with a way to explain how adamant he was on NOT getting married anytime soon “I for one wouldn’t want to be the brother in question, no offense Gigi”

“None taken” she giggled “I understand where you’re coming from Eloise but neither of your brothers seems prepared, or willing, to get married this season”

“Well it’s your loss, these dimwits may not look like much but they are somewhat intelligent and also very desirable matches according to Lady Whistledown”

“Well isn’t this a warm welcome?” Colin's voice startled the siblings and their guest as they didn’t expect him to arrive for another month.

Benedict was the first to stand and embrace his brother while his sister seemed to be torn between welcoming Colin and running to the Featherington’s residency to notify her best friend of his arrival, she knew Penelope would appreciate learning the news before the whole ton started whispering about it or even worse reading about it the next day. Standing up she chose to run to her friend’s home and also drag her guest along to not leave her alone with her brothers who were already deep in conversation.

“Tell mother we will be back for lunch!” She ran to the door with an iron grip around Gigi’s wrist only stopping to give a quick “Welcome home brother!”

“It was lovely to meet you!” That was all Gigi managed to get out before being dragged through the streets of London towards the Featherington home.

/////Time jump\\\\\

The picnic had gone wonderfully and Violet could not have been happier, surrounded by all her children and one grandchild. For a moment she forgot the expectations, the pressure of the next day’s events that signified the start of a new season that would, hopefully, be less dramatic than the last.

The men chatted about Colin’s travels as all the older men had already taken the same voyages, in way less innocent intents than him (read: brothel tour) as he seemed truly interested in the culture, the sights, and the history of the places he visited. Of course, he had met many women on his travels and he had laid with some of them but of that, he wouldn’t speak in such proximity to his mother and sisters.

Later that evening the girls had gone to pick up their debut dresses accompanied by the duchess to get as much advice as possible in how to be the Incomparable of the season, Daphne truly didn’t know how she had achieved that and if she had to be completely honest she only went to spend some time with her sister.

When the girls arrived back at the Bridgerton home, Violet decided it would be early supper and early bedtime for everyone because tomorrow was a crucial day for everyone’s life. Lady Bridgerton knew she couldn’t control what her sons would get up to in the late-night but she would make sure that her debutants were well rested before their presentation to the queen, and she made sure of it by personally escorting them to their shared room and verifying they had in fact gone to bed.

Way past the middle of the night Gigi woke up with a start after having a nightmare about her mother’s death, tears were running down her cheeks and her heart was hammering inside her chest so fast it was almost painful. She quickly looked to Eloise’s sleeping form and breathed a sigh of relief when she confirmed that the girl had not been awakened by her. Slowly and quietly Gigi got up from the bed and grabbed her robe, she needed some fresh air to calm down and maybe some milk.

Little tears were still falling from her eyes as she walked to the kitchen but the hammering of her heart had subsided by now, as she passed the office she noticed light coming from the room and with a frown, she went to see who was there at this ungodly hour. It was Anthony who was hunched over his desk holding an almost empty cup of liquor, his other hand supporting his head and messing his once perfectly combed hair, he was looking at some papers that were carelessly thrown over the desk surface with a deep frown.

“Lord Bridgerton is everything okay?” she knew she should’ve just continued her path to the kitchen but seeing him so concerned made her feel a dull ache in her chest.

He was startled by her voice, almost dropping his cup and lifting his head so quickly he got a little dizzy. He took a good look at her and realized a couple of things: first, she had been crying, and second, even in the simplest of robes with dried tears on her cheeks she looked breathtakingly beautiful.

“Miss Gillingham what are you doing awake at this hour?”

“I could ask you the same thing” she hadn’t meant to sound so sassy but her sleepy brain couldn’t process much formality at the moment.

“It’s nothing that concerns you” he said it with no intention of being harsh but her small wince let him know it came out that way “may I ask you, where were you heading to before stumbling into my office?”

“I was on my way to the kitchen to heat some milk, couldn’t sleep”

“I could help you with that” he surprised even himself with the suggestion because he knew he couldn’t even turn on the stove “stay here, I’ll go to the kitchen, it’s no place for a barefoot lady to be in”

She blushed and looked down at her feet that were in fact bare. He got up from his desk and walked up to where she was standing by the door, he gently pulled her inside the room and guided her to sit on the couch, silently instructing her to stay there before taking his leave for the kitchen. After he left she decided it would be nice of her to refill his drink, she grabbed the liquor bottle that sat atop one of the many papers on the desk and poured it in the cup. She knew she shouldn’t be reading what was written on the papers but her eyes couldn’t help but wander around the surface and soon realized what troubled Anthony, someone was stealing from the family.

“You didn’t need to do that, I could’ve poured it myself” she jumped a little when she heard his voice.

“Nonsense, you went into the trouble of getting me...cold? Milk” she had one look at the small glass bottle he held in his hand with a small smile.

“Ah yes” he chuckled “I didn’t want to bother a kitchen maid so cold milk it is”

“I appreciate the gesture Lord Bridgerton” she took the bottle from his hands as he approached her “I understand you not wanting to wake any of the kitchen staff as one of them is clearly stealing from you”

“What are you talking about? Such accusations are not to be said in such a lightly manner”

“I apologize, sir, I didn’t mean to anger you” she looked down at her feet and tears welled her eyes once again.

“What makes you think one of our kitchen staff is stealing from us?” He was genuinely curious about her answer, not sure if he’d believe it but nonetheless curious.

“Here” she pointed to a piece of paper and his breath hitched at her proximity “it says that you bought 50 baguettes from the bakery today”

“Yes, what about it?”

“Well I saw your table this morning and there were no baguettes there, in the picnic he had croissants and for dinner, there were, again, no baguettes” she felt proud of the way he looked down at her in what could only be described as awe “Baguette is a bread that must be eaten within the same day it is bought as it will get stale rather quickly, it is also an incredible amount of bread for a relatively small family to eat” she completed her explanation and stepped back to give him room to see it for himself.

“I believe you are correct but I must know, how did you know this?” All Anthony could think about was how wonderful it would be to have a wife that could understand such concepts of family economy.

“The same thing happened at our state a couple of years back, our housekeeper claimed to buy enormous quantities of food to get the extra coin herself”

“Who caught her?”

“My mom” she smiled “She said men would’ve never noticed because they had no idea how a kitchen works, she did and she taught me that being a good wife meant not only raising the children but also making sure everything in the home is working how it's supposed to, among other things”

“She sounds like a wonderful woman” he wanted to embrace her with how small and sad she looked but he refrained from doing so, it would be highly inappropriate.

“She was” a yawn tore through her and she suddenly realized just how tired she was “Well good night Lord Bridgerton, thank you for the milk”

He took the vessel from her hand, set it gently on the table, and offered his arm to accompany her to the door.

“Goodnight to you too, and please call me Anthony”

She looked up at him one last time before turning and padding to her bedroom as quietly as she could. Meanwhile, Anthony sat back at his desk and chuckled in disbelief, he had spent the past three hours trying to know where the sudden increase of expenses had come from and she had solved it after mere seconds of looking, she truly was a wonderful woman and would be an even better wife. He couldn’t help but think for a brief moment that she could perhaps be a wonderful wife for him.

Morning came quicker than expected and the house was filled with running maids preparing baths, horses being brushed, and food being made. Anthony fired their housekeeper, Violet wanted to kill him as he chose to do so at the worst possible time and that forced her to make her personal maid the housekeeper to keep things running smoothly on such an important date. The girls came down with their hair done wearing robes so they could eat before getting dressed, Violet didn’t want them to spill anything on them but most importantly she didn’t want to have either of the girls fainting in front of the queen due to hunger, so breakfast in a robe was the solution.

Disaster hit Lady Bridgerton’s mind as soon as she saw the way her firstborn looked at Grace, he looked at her as if he was in love with her. She had no problem in her son choosing to court the young heiress but it would look terrible if he were to court her while she was staying in their home, it would certainly give the wrong impression. She rose from the table and grabbed her eldest daughter by the elbow prompting her to follow her out to the hallway where she proceeded to explain that she needed her and her husband to take Grace to Lady Dunbury’s house.

“But why? Is our presence bothering you mother?”

“Of course not dearest, but I must get Grace out of the house to avoid a scandal” at her daughter’s confused face she continued “your brother seems to fancy her and I’m afraid if he chose to court her it would look terrible if she was to be living under the same roof as him”

Daphne understood her mother’s reasoning and agreed that it would be quite scandalous for a debutant to live in the same home as the man who courted her. Back in the dining room, the Duke of Hastings was getting worried by his wife’s absence so he ventured into the hallway to find her and her mother speaking in hushed voices.

“My love! I was just about to send for you” Daphne reached her hand out to her husband and he took it with a wary look “My mother has asked us to take over Grace’s season at Lady Danbury’s house, and I wanted to know if that may be possible”

He wanted to say no, he wanted to avoid staying the whole season under the scrutiny of the ton and also that of Lady Danbury, but he couldn’t deny his wife the chance to spend this time close to her family and for her to take such responsibility was a task he knew she wished to do to make her mother proud. So despite wanting to deny such request he smiled and instead said he’d be honored to help her with such task and would make arrangements to speak with Lady Danbury and send their belongings there while they went to de debutants presentation.

The presentation to the queen goes uneventful until Eloise walks in accompanied by her mother, even though she failed to aid in catching Lady Whistledown The Queen admired the young lady and provided her with a nod of approval, which was an enormous statement coming from the monarch. Next walked in Grace with Daphne and to no one’s surprise, she was deemed the Incomparable by the queen with a simple kiss to the forehead.

The news traveled fast and as soon as both ladies arrived at the ball in Lady Danbury’s home their dancing cards were filled with prospects, well Grace’s was because thanks to Anthony’s ‘assistance’ Eloise’s was impossibly blank. Daphne and Simon had decided to allow Gigi to dance with whoever she liked and they would worry about background checks when the dances turned into gentleman callers.

Anthony spent half of his attention taking good care of his sister and the other half was put into painfully watching Gigi dancing with different men, but what hurt the most was seeing that the man that made her smile the most was his own brother. He watched Colin take her first dance and couldn’t help the jealousy coursing through his veins as he saw them smiling and laughing as he twirled her around the dance floor. Perhaps that jealousy is what prompted him to abandon his sister’s side and approach the purple-eyed girl to ask for a dance.

“I’m so sorry Anthony but my dance card is full for the night” she was truly apologetic even though she had no way of knowing the eldest Bridgerton would want her to save a dance for him.

“May I see it?” He read through the list of names and chose to scratch over Benedict’s name knowing his brother had saved himself a dance with the girl only to save her from another dance with an impossibly boring gentleman, so he wouldn’t mind giving his dance up to his older brother.

“Is that allowed?” She asked with a smile.

“It is when he’s your brother” he dropped the card and handed back her pencil “Do me a favor and save me a dance on the next ball, and all others after that” with a final smile he left her to dance with the next gentleman and went back to his sister’s side.

Part 2

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I wanted to write this in 1 part buuuuut it came out longer than expected 😬 It’ll probably be like a 3-4 part story. If you took the time to read this I appreciate you :):):):):):):):):)

#bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x oc #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton imagine #my writing

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whatamidoingwithmylifeman · 3 years

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MK OC Randomness part 8... I think. Fuck it! We're going with it!

Welcome back to the shit show. Let's go!

also some of these jokes are from lamas with hats

Qiao Fu is my name for the Lin Kuei Grandmaster

Also some of these jokes are based off skits done by Moonkitti on YouTube. Just re-worded a bit

Nozomi: Hey uncle Shinnok! Do your old man voice!

Shinnok, in his normal voice: What old man voice?

Nozomi: Yeah! That one!

------

Nozomi: ooh who's this?

Qiao Fu: That's my old wife.

Nozomi: The one who died long ago?

Qiao Fu: The very same

Nozomi: *eyeing the picture* That's too bad. She looks really cute.

Qiao Fu: I'm sorry, do you find my old wife attractive?

Nozomi: Do you not!?

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Nozomi: I wanna see my little boy!

Shang Tsung: *helping Meat walk* Here he comes!

Nozomi: *scooping Meat up and hugging him* I wanna see my little boy!

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"Revenant" Reiki: WHY WOULD YOU THINK ANY OF THIS IS A GOOD IDEA!?

"Revenant" Michiko: Probably because I'm a dangerous sociopath with a long history of violence.

"Rev" Reiki: Oh.

"Rev" Michiko: I don't understand how you keep forgetting that.

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Shinnok: Shh, do you hear that?

Shinnok: That's the sound of forgiveness.

Melantha: That's the sound of people dying dad!

Shinnok: That is what forgiveness sounds like. Screaming and then silence.

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Shariah: How did you even do this!?

Meat: A dollop of fairy dust!

Shariah: Meat!

Meat: I ripped the tag off a mattress.

Shariah: This isn't funny Meat!

Meat: Who's laughing? Clearly not all the people that just exploded.

Shariah: I'm leaving! I've had enough of this!

Meat: But thank of all the perfectly roasted faces we get to munch on now.

Shariah: What? Why?

Meat: Because we're friends. And friendship is two pals munching on well cooked faces together.

------

"The bar was so low it was practically a tripping hazard in Hell! And yet, here you are limbo dancing with the devil!"- Melantha to Hotaru at a family dinner.

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"Oh no. There are consequences to your actions? Who would've thought?" Krow to Raiden and Flamus, still pissed at them for completely destroying a village that housed the remaining nymphs and nymphlims their husband made.

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Nozomi: I'm just here to collect Michiko

Qiao Fu: *tries to stab her*

Nozomi: YOU'RE AN UNFIT FATHER FU! THAT'S NOT EVEN YOUR DAUGHTER! YOU HAVE A HUMAN CHILD! WHO THE FUCK'S DEMON CHILD IS THAT! WHO ARE YOU STEALING CHILDREN FROM!?

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Michiko: You are not my father!

Qiao Fu: Bring proof you are not my daughter!

Meixiu's ghost in the background: Bitch! You literally murdered her birth father!

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Nyx: Get out

Reiko: Aww come on. Can't I check in on my favorite little sister?

Nyx: If you don't leave me my room Reiko, I will stab you. And when I do it won't look pretty.

Reiko: there's a pretty way to stab people? Like with a butterfly knife or something?

Nyx: yup. Handle and all.

Reiko: oh... OH!

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Nemos: Greetings Thunder God!

Raiden: Eh? Nemos what are you doing here?

Nemos: I'm taking advantage of your guilt-ridden personality to get a head start on being a better realm protector while no one is looking.

Raiden: Nope. New timeline, new Raiden. Go- Go play with your sisters.

Nemos: I'll have you know I've lived 15 lives in which I've played with my sisters, and none of them have been consequential!

Raiden: *sighs* I'm trying to take you seriously. Really. But it just feels like an even smaller Shinnok is yelling at me right now.

------

Hotaru: *busting into the Sky Temple and picking up Nemos* My beautiful son, I am back from my epic battle of driving out the rebels!

Nemos: Tell me, man who sired me!

Hotaru: We were fighting when suddenly Soldier B produced a substance that burned through their skin!

Nozomi: That sounds like my poison...

Hotaru: Oh no! We'd never poison anyone. Only ambush them in the middle of the night, kill them through physical violence, and intimidate them in other wise orderly court proceedings. Poison is bad.

Nozomi: Have you considered maybe, asking him if he poisoned them?

Hotaru: Oh no, I trust him completely.

Melantha: *holding Discordia and Harmonia* But, what if he did?

Hotaru: *small whimper before glaring and shouting* Solider B! Come here and apologize to my wife for making her think about things immediately!

Solider B: Hi, what?

Hotaru: I said apologize to Melantha!

Solider B: Uh yeah, sorry for poisoning the rebels or something..

Melantha: Hey, has anyone seen Nemos?

------

Darrius: It seems one of the soldiers has summoned Melantha to their side.

Hotaru: *spying on the rebels* Gonna go see Melantha. I'm gonna see Melantha at the meeting. Gonna see Melantha. Melantha.

------

OB: I made a perfectly good Titan

Fuyuka: You fucked up my daughter is what you did!

Fuyuka: Look at her! She's traumatized!

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Amara: Don’t worry, I have a few knives up my sleeve.

Leila: I think you mean cards.

Amara, pulling knives out of her sleeves: No, I do not.

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Ermac: Bad things keep happening to us, like we have bad luck or something.

Zyta: Ermac, you don't have bad luck. The reason bad things happen to you is because you're a dumbass.

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Zyta: You love me, right, Ermac?

Ermac: Normally, we’d say yes without hesitation, but we feel like this is going somewhere and we don’t like it.

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Kristy: *steps on her glasses by accident*

Kristy: *inhales* If I knew that this would be the fate that befalls me and these damned glasses, I would've just let the fire reach my left eye and burn it out completely!

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Megumi: I turned out perfectly fine!

Ayeka: Megumi, this morning you thought a ghost made your toast

Megumi: I DIDN’T PUT THE BREAD IN! YOU DIDN’T PUT THE BREAD IN!!!

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Zyta: Stop buying plastic skeletons for Halloween! It's terrible for the environment!

Philomela: Yeah! Locally sourced, all natural skeletons are much more environmentally friendly!

------

Discordia, holding a python: Guys I impulsively bought a snake, what do I name him

Harmonia: You did WHAT–

Nemos: William Snakepeare

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Discordia: Hey Harmonia,

Harmonia: Yes?

Discordia: Can a person breathe inside a washing machine while it’s on?

Harmonia:

Harmonia: Where’s Nemos?

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Discordia: Here’s a fun Christmas idea. We hang mistletoe, but instead of kissing, you have to FIGHT whoever else is under it.

Harmonia: Discordia no.

Nemos: Mistlefoe.

Harmonia: Please stop encouraging her.

------

Store Worker: Would a Ms. Philomela please come to the front desk?

Philomela, arriving at the desk: Hello, is there a problem?

Store Worker: *points to Amara and Zyta*

Store Worker: I believe they belong to you?

Amara and Zyta, simultaneously: We got lost :(

Philomela: I didn’t even bring you guys here with me-

------

Erron, driving Ash and Kamden: So how was your day?

Ash: We almost got surprise adopted!

Erron: What?

Kamden: We almost got kidnapped.

Erron: Oh, okay.

Erron: *slams on the breaks* WAIT WHAT?!

------

Nozomi: Welcome, fellow idiots

Kung Lao: Hello, Nozomi

Nozomi: No, no, not you, you're not an idiot

Kung Lao: You underestimate me

------

Nozomi: What are your goals?

Kung Lao: To pet all the dogs.

Nozomi: No, fitness goals.

Kung Lao: To be able to run fast enough to pet all the dogs.

------

Liu Kang: You know, not every problem can be solved with a sword.

Nozomi: That's why I carry two swords.

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Sareena: Ok, maybe playing ‘whose family is most dysfunctional’ wasn’t the best idea we’ve had. Michiko's been crying in the bathroom for an hour. We can’t get her out...

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Sareena: Do you have any skeletons in your closet?

Michiko: You mean literally or figuratively?

Sareena: Honestly, the fact that I have to specify...

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Sareena: Michiko... Why did you draw a pentagram on the floor?

Michiko: Your text told me to Satanize the house before you returned.

Sareena:

Sareena: I wrote sanitize, Michiko.

------

Sareena: You kill people for money?!

Michiko: I can explain!

Sareena: And all this time I’ve been doing it for free like a chump!

@deepinthefog @merplderpl @yuvononik @dontunderestimatemypoison @feistyfandomthings @toomanyf4ndoms7 @daddydestrey @tora-lotus @calcium1790 @starneko123 @dinogoofy @bar10du @cyberbloodgoddess

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i-mybrunettelady · 3 years

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El’s interview

Tagged by the lovely @thoseofuswhoblossom (if Tonglr isn’t messing things upagain hahah)

OC interview: Elandrin Aien

Draw (or use an old drawing, don’t worry!) or take a screen of your character in an interview setting and make them answer the following questions!

(Durmand Priory post in the Grove)

INTRODUCTION

1. Can you introduce yourself?

- Archon Elandrin Aien of the Durmand Priory, Secondborn of the sylvari and Knight of the Thorn. Pact Commander, but there’s a more prominent colleague of mine with that title and difference matters.

2. What is your gender identity, orientation and relationship status?

- I’m a man. The whole orientation business is just really confusing, why’d I ever have to label my attraction is beyond me, but since some people do (again, why?) I’d say I am what other races call... Gay? And taken.

3. Where and when were you born?

- I’m a sylvari secondborn.

4. What is your weapon of choice and fighting style?

- (he points towards Caladbolg Solana on his belt.) I was trained in stealth combat, but having fire magic and going stealth is actually quite a potent combination if one knows how to make the most of it.

5. Lastly, are you happy?

- (he’s quiet for a moment. he looks softer and earnest as he gives what could only be described as a gentle nod.)

FAMILY AND FRIENDS

1. What’s your family like? What is your relationship with them?

- I don’t have a family. I have Trahearne, I have Liv. If you’re asking for parents, I have the Pale Tree, who is my mother. They wouldn’t be “family�� - whatever that means - if I wasn’t exceptionally close with them.

2. Have you ever ran away from home?

- Grove was safer when I was a sapling. In the outside world, asura could catch you and torture you for science, but in the Grove... I left the Grove later than many would think. It was a difficult time for our race.

3. Would you consider marriage or having children?

- Me? A father? Me, with the patience the size of my fingernail? (he points towards the nail on his pinkie.) A dog, maybe, that one sylvan pup has attached herself to me, but a child.. As for marriage, likewise no. Marriage is pointless if I desire to be with that person, we’ll be together regardless of whether a priest says some magic words or not.

4. Do you secretly hate one of your friends?

- I don’t have a lot of friends. They’re precious. You don’t hate precious.

5. Which friend knows everything about you?

- Trahearne.

ASKED BY FANS

1. Are you literate? Have you been to school?

- (he stares at the viewer, tapping his fingers violently against the table. his lips are pursed and he’s visibly trying to stay still.) Whoever asked that question will find themselves lacking a head very soon.

2. The eeriest prediction you made that later came true?

- (he’s quiet for a while, and when he speaks again, a lot of emotions flash in her eyes and his voice is tight and hissed.) “That jungle will kill you.”

3. What is something you were embarrassingly late to realize?

- That non-sylvari don’t speak my language! It’s actually a rather simple language, just- (he finishes the sentence on the language itself and grins like a gremlin cat.) I know two more.

4. Do you have mental health or physical issues?

- (his stare hardens and he squints suspiciously.) No.

5. What is your current main goal?

- Thaw those Krytans in ice from Lake Doric. Elder Dragon magic is so much fun to research! The “seams” of Jormag and Primordus’ magic are able to tear each other in select places because- You know what? Wait for the paper.

CHOICES

1. Drink or food?

- Drink. Plants needs watering.

2. Cats or dogs?

- Neither. Both are annoying most of the time.

3. Early bird or night owl?

- Night owl. I’m a NIghtbloom and am most productive at night and prefer to sleep during the day, if I can.

4. Optimist or pessimist?

- Realist.

5. Sassy or sarcastic?

- Sarcastic. Sassy is for more.. gentle folk.

HAVE YOU EVER

1. Been caught sneaking out

- Yes. Unsubtle fire magic.

2. Broke a bone

- Yes. Some falls land badly and bark goes- (he makes a breaking sound.)

3. Received flowers

- Some saplings have given me flowers. (he clears his throat.) There was this one warden who made excellent flower wreaths and made one of red roses and other red flowers for me to go with my Hopesday robes that year. He had quite nimble fingers, I have to say.

4. Ghosted someone

- It’s better than committing violence... Sometimes.

5. Pretended to laugh at a joke you didn’t get

- Human nobles tend to think themselves funnier than they actually are. They can’t flirt and they can’t tell jokes. If a human noble wants to tell you a joke, run in the other direction.

TAGS

@medical-unprofessional-rat-man

@elismistscorner

@lysiia

@cetra

@unbound-magic

@heraldofaurene

and anyone else who might wanna do it!

#gw2 #tag game #elandrin aien #oc interview #nero's artsy corner

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jinterlude · 3 years

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Grow a Pear

—Requested by @shadowsremedy: Seokjin + Kuroko’s Basketball + School Gym as part of @bangtan-headquarters Bangtan Anime Club Drabble Event!

—Pairing: Seokjin x Reader (Female OC) [feat. Seungcheol from SVT]

—Genre(s): Humor, Slight-Angst, & Slight-Fluff

—AUs/Tropes: Anime-verse, Kuroko’s Basketball!AU, High School!AU, Basketball Player!Seokjin, Basketball Club Manager!Reader, Opposites Attract Trope

—Warning(s) & Rating: Swearing, Reader threatening bodily harm onto Seokjin, Shameless flirting, & Jealousy from an old middle school rival / PG-15

—Word Count: 1.6K

—Summary: In which news of playing against a certain team sparks a rather interesting memory...

—A/N: This drabble is based on episodes 52 & 53 of KnB, but you do not have to watch the series to understand this story’s overall premise! It is also inspired by Kesha’s song “Grow a Pear” (hence the title LOL) because I immediately think of Kise’s character. Since Seokjin reminds me of that 2D pretty boy, I decided to write a fun story!

“Hey, ___!”

A faint hum exits your lips as your eyes remain fixated on your player statistics book. You flip between a few pages with the gears in your brain working in overdrive, almost forgetting for a split moment that Kaijo’s basketball captain asked for your attention.

“Yes, Sungwon?” You reply, closing the book and tucking it underneath your arm.

Pursing his lips, Sungwon strides over to you, leaning against the stage inside the gym. Don’t you love playing inside an auditorium?

“So…” He begins but grows silent. How on Earth is he supposed to ask you to be the sacrificial lamb? How will he tell you that you’ve been chosen to say the team’s resident narcissist yet talented prodigy that Kaijo will play against Fukuda Sugo? Specifically, they’re playing against a certain someone with a rather colorful history with yourself and said prodigy.

Tiny creases form on your forehead as your brows knit together. You know that carefree look anywhere. More often than not, you become chosen to do a specific task that no other teammate wants to do—talking to Kim Seokjin.

“Now, before you say no—”

“Nope.”

“You didn’t even hear what I have to say.”

“Doesn’t matter. My answer is still the same. No.”

With that, you turn on your heel, and not even a few steps in, you bump into the one person you don’t want to see.

“Princess!”

And to think…

You were having such a fantastic day…

“What do you want, Seokjin?” You question, grabbing the statistics book from your underarm and flipping it open to some random page. You already have the data mesmerized like the back of your hand. You just want to appear busy in front of the arrogant pretty boy.

“Well, besides you finally acknowledging that you’re my girlfriend? A little bird told me that we’re playing against his team in the Quarterfinals,” Seokjin replies, his tone dropping near the end. This serious expression slowly takes over his handsome features, almost sending shivers down your spine.

If looks can kill, then Seokjin is guilty of murder in the first degree...

Thank God he chose to attend a different school. Who knows what will happen if two people who absolutely despise each other play on the same team.

“Remind me to thank Namjoon for that…” You mutter, slightly shaking your head as you slowly draw in your breath. Then, a force, light chuckle escapes your lips, personally finding it rather humorous of the current situation.

“Anyway, so how are you feeling about playing against the dude who has a thing for your sloppy seconds?” You tease, attempting to lighten up the situation.

Seokjin’s brow perks up, “Sloppy seconds?” he repeats, a tiny grin form on his handsome face.

You nod, “Well yeah...I mean, he did steal your ex-girlfriend from you.”

In response, the arrogant basketball player hums. However, this exciting gleam enters the corners of his eyes.

What is he thinking now?

Suddenly, he turns to you, his gaze piercing into yours with this unexplainable emotion glazing over his eyes.

“Oh? I mean, he did come close to stealing you away from me that one day.” He states as this bright smile dances across his gorgeous face.

For a split second, your cheeks become hot. Your heart practically drums against your chest. Shit. Even your palms clam up, sticking to the cover of the player statistics book.

What is this feeling?

Then, it dawns on you. This nervousness is the same emotion you felt when you comforted Seokjin that fateful day—well, supported him in your own unique way…

Tapping your pencil against your chin, a soft growl emits from your lips as you try to figure out the best course of action. The Captain, Kim Namjoon, previously asked you to develop a plan to preserve the Generation of Miracle’s stamina, specifically when using their rather unique talents. At first, you thought Namjoon was flat out insane for asking such a request. Like, you’d have to take into account their height and weight difference. Oh! You couldn’t forget that you also keep in mind their current talent levels. All while these calculations occur during an official game with another team.

Yeah...

Namjoon might as well tell you to put on a fucking jersey while he’s at it.

Rubbing the sides of your forehead, you can’t help but let out a long, harsh breath as this throbbing sensation enters the left side of your head.

“Hey, manager ___.” You hear a familiar voice, interrupting your rather irritating calculations. You look up from the tiny pile of scattered papers containing player statistics. However, you don’t bother spouting words towards the overly cocky player. Instead, you merely hum in response, unknowingly irking the basketball player.

Plastering on a smug grin, the person leans against the stage, quickly glancing at what you’re doing.

“So, is that the special project Namjoon asked you to do for him?” The arrogant male student asks.

“Yep, and shouldn’t you be practicing Seungcheol?” You question back, raising a brow.

Seungcheol scoffs lightly, “Why? I mean, I already earned a permanent spot on the regular team, so…” He trails on, chuckling to himself. He finds the mere thought of his spot being taken away quite humorous.

You mentally roll your eyes. God, you don’t know who’s the bigger arrogant fool. Him or—

“Yo, Seokjin!” shouts Jungkook, running up to the new recruit.

Ah, Kim Seokjin. He recently joined the basketball club just a few months ago. He’s already showing promise despite being a second-year student. Shit. Seokjin’s talents have rapidly progressed to the point that Namjoon took notice of him and was promoted to first-string just last week.

Yet, you can’t quite put your finger on it, but something is holding Seokjin back.

But what?

Before you become entirely lost in your thoughts, you hear Seungcheol’s arrogant voice taunt Seokjin.

Oh, great…

You swiftly stand up from your seat and rush over to the argumentative duo. But as you draw near to the quarrelsome pair, you instantly halt. What is this intense atmosphere lingering in the air?

And why do you suddenly feel something other than agitation towards Seokjin?

“W-what did you say?”

“You heard me, Kim Seokjin. Whoever wins our 1v1 match earns the right to call ___ his girlfriend.”

“Hold on. You can’t just call dibs on ___!” shouts Jungkook in complete and utter shock.

Instantly slapping yourself back, in reality, you snatch a basketball from an innocent player and roughly throw it at Seungcheol, anger visible all over your face.

Sadly for you, the annoying prick catches it with ease, smirking at you.

“What’s the matter, babe? You don’t believe that I can put Seokjin in his place?” He coos, further taunting Seokjin. What sets the handsome prodigy over the edge is when Seungcheol abruptly pulls you against his chest, dropping the basketball in the process. His cheek brushes against yours, making you want to gag.

Just as you’re about to violently elbow him in the stomach, Seokjin shoves Seungcheol away before forcefully throwing the discarded ball at him.

“You start.”

“This should be fun.”

But it was just the opposite...

It was a complete slaughter with Seokjin on his hands and knees, panting and sweating profusely. His eyes widened from the shock of his defeat.

Not only has he lost horribly against Seungcheol, but he also lost you—or so he believes.

“So, how about that date, baby girl? After all, you’re now my girlfriend.” Seungcheol asks, making sure that Seokjin can hear him.

“Yeah, I don’t date dudes who have a thing for other fellas’ sloppy seconds.” You bluntly state, turning towards Yoongi and Jungkook, “I mean, first it was Yerin, right? The one that was going around the entire fucking school saying that she was Seokjin’s girlfriend. Oh, I feel sorry for her since it was just last week, you were chasing after her, and now you’re after me.” You say, clicking your tongue in fake disappointment.

Seungcheol’s arrogant smile vanishes and is now replaced with a scowl.

“Let me ask you this, why are you obsessed with Seokjin’s sloppy seconds? Like there are a million girls in this damn school who, oddly enough, would love to be your arm candy. Yet you go after the ones that either show interest in Seokjin or who Seokjin’s interested in. Like, dude. Stop. It’s honestly creepy to the point that I firmly believe you have a weird obsession with him.” You finish as you walk over to Seokjin, offering him a helping hand.

Seokjin faintly smiles, grabbing your hand, as he pulls himself up. Soon, his smile becomes bright. His sweet smile almost blinds you—and makes your heart skip a beat.

“I knew you had a soft spot for me, ___.”

“Don’t push it, Jinnie boy.”

Softly shaking your head, you playfully shove Seokjin, snapping him out of his thoughts. You then jump down from the stage, having popped yourself up there moments earlier.

“Well, all I have to say is that Seungcheol better watch out. He hasn’t seen your ‘Perfect Copy’ in action yet.” You warmly smile as you make your way towards the exit but soon halt. You glance over your shoulder, maintaining that sweet smile, and say,

“Besides, he’s no match for you with your girlfriend cheering you on from the bench.”

“Right…” He mumbles, totally ignoring your words. Then, it hits him as if someone doused him with cold water.

“Wait! Did you just call yourself my girlfriend?!!” Seokjin hollers, chasing after you.

“I don’t know. Win tomorrow’s match, and I’ll let you know.”

“Oh, that’s cruel, princess…”

68 notes · View notes

harryspet · 4 years

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little doe [4] peter parker

[Warnings] peter parker x named oc, mj fluff, a/b/o dynamic, dd lg dynamic, broken english, oral sex (male recieving), angst

A/N: I’ve been getting so much LOVE for this story and I appreciate it so much! I hope I can continue to please you guys with a few more chapters to this series.

In which chaos runs through the Parker household.

Like, reblog and let me know what you think!

word count: 2.8k

As MJ entered Peter’s apartment, she descended upon complete chaos. Something smelt like it was burning coming from the kitchen, she followed a trail of smoke to find a burning pot of soup that had turned black, “Peter!” She called but received no answer. MJ turned off the stove before walking into the living room. MJ had to watch her every step, there were random items strewn everywhere around the apartment, and she had to dust lucky charm marshmallow off the bottom of her shoes.

The living room was the worst of them all, everything was out of place, the couch was shredded in a few places, curtains off the rods, and everything torn off the shelves, “Doe?” MJ found the girl sitting in the corner, facing the wall, hands in her face, “Why are you in the corner?”

Doe turned her head, her face in a pout, and MJ noticed the mess her hair was and also the fact that there were red and blue markings on her hands, “Bad girl! Stay here! Don’t move!” She mimicked Peter’s voice and MJ noted that the girl was only wearing one of his t-shirts.

Peter’s words were echoing over and over again in Doe’s mind. She felt miserable.

“Why on earth would he say that?” MJ wondered what the hell had happened in the last week that she hadn’t been there. Peter had called her a few hours ago and everything seemed to be fine. Doe’s hands began to form into a balled fist and she nodded over to the middle of the room.

Peter’s most treasured prize, a lego version of the Millenium falcon, was now melted into the coffee table. She couldn’t even recognize it. MJ sighed, urging Doe to stand up. “Did not … mean it. Promise.”

“Of course you didn't. It’s okay,” MJ knew she couldn’t have intentionally done anything to hurt Peter, “Where is Peter?”

Doe shrugged and MJ reached to grab her hand, “Let’s find him.”

Doe pulled away from her quickly, “Peter is mad!” Doe couldn’t face him, not after what she did and how he reacted. The last week had been complete chaos. Her heat had been giving her serious mood swings and it didn’t help that Peter’s work had become stressful, “No, please.”

“Doe-” Before MJ could protest, Doe fell down to her bottom and planted herself there. She crossed her arms over her chest as she planned to hide from Peter for the rest of her life.

“Peter is mad for me,” Doe tried to explain again. MJ mentally cursed, the entire situation completely baffling her. Where the hell was Peter?

MJ sighed, “I promise he’s not mad at you,” No reaction, “Fine, just stay here and I’ll go find him.”

MJ kicked over a few misplaced pillows as she made her way out of the living room. She called for Peter as she walked down the hallway before she heard some rumbling around from his office. She wasted no time in knocking as she barged inside. Much like the living room, it was utter chaos, “Everyone in this house has clearly lost their shit,” MJ stated, watching him pace the length of the room, computer in hand. He hadn’t even noticed her walk in, “Peter!”

Michelle ducked as a web aimed right for her head thanks to startling Peter. Peter finally noticed she wasn’t some enemy and stared with wide eyes, “MJ? You scared me!”

“I’ve been yelling in the apartment for ten minutes! Is your Peter tingle not working anymore?”

Peter frowned but went back to staring at his computer. MJ noted his serious bed head and the fact that his shirt was on backward. There seemed to be million open folders tagged with red letters that spelled CONFIDENTIAL and Peter’s secret arsenal of the inventions Stark made for him was open, not hidden anymore by a bookshelf. MJ approached him, snapping her fingers, “Hello, earth to Peter!”

Peter flashed her an annoyed look, “What is it?”

“You told me to come over, remember?”

“Right,” Peter nodded, “I need you to watch Doe. I’m going … somewhere and I can’t think around her.”

“Is this about your lego toy?”

Peter scowled at her, anger welling up inside of him, “It’s not a lego toy! It’s an eight-thousand piece Millenium Falcon that Ned and I spent thirty hours putting together. Destroyed!” MJ rolled her eyes.

“She wouldn’t do it for no reason. She just doesn’t know how to control her powers-”

“She knows exactly how to control them,” Peter interjected, “What she doesn't know is how to handle her emotions. She tried to make a drawing of my costume on the wall and, when I told her she couldn’t do that, she exploded. She destroyed the apartment and, just my luck, the fireplace was on. She barely lifted a finger when she summoned that fire.”

MJ took a breath, Peter’s words sinking in, “This doesn’t mean you can tell her to go stand in a corner when you’re angry at her. She didn’t know how much that thing meant to you.”

“I didn’t-” Peter shut his laptop, tossing it on his leather couch, and began to rub his temples as he winced at the thought, “I forgot that I had. I’m not angry with her, MJ, my mind is just all over the place. Fury is torturing me and I can’t afford to slip up or he’ll show up here and find out about Doe.”

MJ nodded, finally understanding what had been going on, “Then I’ll stay here with her while you’re gone. You can get Fury off of your back and Doe and I will stay under the radar,” Peter opened his mouth to thank her but MJ raised a finger, “But first, you’re going to say whatever magic words she wants to hear because, for some weird reason, she likes you a lot and cares what you think of her. And as much as I like sadness and pain, she is the purest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on and she is the only person that I don’t want to see sad and in pain.”

MJ followed Peter as they went to search for Doe, who was hiding in the walk-in pantry. MJ leaned in the doorway and Peter crouched down where Doe had tucked herself. Peter brushed a piece of the girl’s bright hair behind her ears, “Peter is sorry for his behavior earlier,” MJ almost snorted as he referred to himself in the third person.

“Doe is sorry. Promise,” Her plan failed completely and it only took about twenty minutes as she wrapped her arms around Peter. He hugged her tightly and felt a lot of his anxiety melt away. Explaining to her that he had to leave for a few days would be difficult but he suspected MJ would make it easier.

“Things are going to be great when I get back, I promise.”

“Hate to make this awkward but both of you look like you haven’t showered in days so maybe we should tackle that challenge first.”

Peter was exhausted when he finally returned back from his two weeks later. He had barely slept the entire time and his muscles were aching, not to mention all the bruises that were still healing. He came in close to dinner time to find that the house was still put together, actually, it was cleaner than usual which was odd. That wasn’t the weirdest part because, as he entered the kitchen, he saw that Doe was wearing shoes.

“Peter!” Of course, Peter accepted her warm embrace but Peter noted her black combat boots, black leather jacket, and finally paired with, you guessed it, a black dress.

MJ looked up from her slice of pizza to say, “I couldn’t get her into pants, sadly.”

Doe was still tightly wrapped around him as Peter responded, “I think you’ve done enough, thanks. I should’ve known you’d turn her into a mini version of you.”

“Peter, we go shopping!” Peter shot a confused and accusatory look at MJ.

“You were cool with us using your credit card, right?” MJ took a calm bite of her pizza.

“You took someone with uncontrolled elemental powers out into public? What if something had happened?”

“It was only for an hour or two … on a few days. She had some anxiety but she got over it quickly. She’s super chill when she’s with me. Plus, you’d be awkward as hell if you had to bra shop with her.”

“MJ, we discussed this-” Before Peter could berate her, MJ grabbed her backpack and her slice of pizza and stormed out of the kitchen.

“Thanks for the pizza and the new clothes, Peter. Bye, kid!”

“Bye-bye, MJ! Good morning!” Doe still had yet to unwrap herself from Peter and, even as her babysitter left, she held Peter tight.

Peter huffed as he heard the front door slammed. He looked down at Doe who was smiling wide, “Pi-zza for Peter? Make happy?”

Peter nodded and they ate pizza together before Peter collapsed onto his bed with Doe in his arms.

Doe thought that since her heat had passed that she might crave his touch less but this was not at all true. The two weeks apart had her craving him and Peter didn’t seem to mind the extra comfort that she brought him after his long mission.

She told him all about her adventures with MJ in the words that she knew and that he could understand. It was all a bit jumbled but Peter still seemed to nod and smile though she could see the worry some of the stories had caused him.

She still liked kissing Peter. He never asked her too but she noticed the way he leaned in when they were looking at each other. He’d hold her head and push his tongue into her mouth, exploring her.

She couldn’t stop thinking as she paced the hallway, just outside Peter’s office, where he was video conferencing inside. She wasn’t to go inside which she knew but she could hear his voice from the outside. Hear the nervousness and crave to ease any anxiety that he had.

It was a total accident that a gust of air rushed past and the door cracked open a bit. She peeked inside to see Peter sitting behind his desk, his fingers tapping at his desk, as he stared at a hologram screen across from him.

She could tell that, whoever was talking to him, a pale woman with brunette hair, “I talked to him, I’m pretty sure he has nothing to do with this situation and, if he did, he wouldn’t have ... “ Peter’s voice trailed off as he saw a totally, conspicuous person crawling into his office.

Peter’s eyes met hers and his eyes became sharp as if to warn her without outward saying it.

“Parker?” Peter’s head darted back up to look at Maria.

“Yes, like I was saying …” Peter continued on the debriefing of his mission as he saw Doe crawl beneath his desk.

She couldn’t hide the fact that sometimes she enjoyed frustrating Peter. As her hands ran up his legs and she felt him flinch, she giggled to herself. His hand slipped under the desk and he waved his hand as if to tell her to stop. She only took his hand, slipping two of his fingers into her mouth as she slowly sucked on them. It was what he did to his own fingers after stimulating her sensitive parts with his hands.

Peter paused his speech for a second before, slipping his fingers away and wiping them onto his pants. He continued to talk to the woman as if nothing had happened. Doe positioned herself between his legs and set her head in his crotch, peeking up at him. Peter scowled down at her and she only blushed.

She nuzzled him into him like a kitten to its owner.

She thought much about what was between his legs and the fact that he never really insisted on her returning the pleasure that he brought her. She felt how it grew harder when she ground against him during her first heat and she felt it press against her bottoms in the mornings. He never let her touch it as he rushed to the bathroom in the morning to take care of it himself.

Doe felt it now, growing harder just because of her proximity to it. Peter continued talking and shifted uncomfortably but that only made it more visible to her. Doe sat back on her knees and began to run her fingers over the outline it created in his shorts.

“Well, we have other agents working this for now and - Peter? Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine- ah!” Doe wrapped her fingers around the outline, slowly stroking up and down. It was fascinating to her and her original plan to bother him for attention quickly took a turn. She wondered if it worked the same way as her private parts did, “I-I’m just not feeling well, Ms. Hill.”

“I’ll leave you to enjoy the rest of your day, Peter. Expect a call from Fury sometime soon,” Peter nodded quickly as he reached to end the call.

Soon, the hologram disappeared but the problem at hand was even direr than the mission he was just sent on.

Peter rolled back in his chair and Doe emerged from under the desk, “Stay away, you evil girl.”

Doe only crawled forward, giggling, “Take care for Peter, please?” She positioned herself between his legs again, sitting up on her knees as her hands reached for the member growing in his pants. It felt a bit softer now and Doe frowned but a few more touches from her, it was hard again.

Peter’s breath hitched in his throat, “Do you even know … what that mouth of yours would do to me? What your hands would do?” He would kill her, he was sure of it, but at least he’d die happy.

Peter thought for a moment before slipping down his pants and his boxers, letting his hard member spring free. Doe wasn’t sure what she was expecting but she didn’t expect he’d be hiding all of this inside of his pants. Peter took her hand and gently wrapped it around the base of his cock.

“Touch it like this,” He instructed her, trying to hold in the sounds he desperately wanted to release. She moved her hand up and down slowly, twisting as he showed her how “You can use your hands or your mouth but both are better … much better. Open your mouth, Doe.”

Peter leaned forward, holding her head, as she opened her mouth. Peter stuck two of his fingers into her open mouth, “Good girl,” he praised her as he went deeper. He was surprised how deep he went before she even gagged and an evil part of him, deep down inside of him, liked that very much. He liked seeing her eyes wide like this and saliva dripping down her chin, “Suck and move that tongue around.”

With some coaching, she easily obeyed.

“That’s what you want to do with me … okay?” She nodded, bringing her mouth towards Peter’s member. She took him into her mouth, “Move that tongue around, Doe -ah! Just like that.”

His moans were encouragement enough as Doe swirled her tongue around his tip before fully taking him into her mouth. Peter gathered her bright hair in his hand, pushing it from her face, so he could see her clearly as she devoured him, “Keep those eyes on me, little one.”

And she did.

He wouldn’t last long like this, he knew it, but Doe seemed to gain more control, not needing much guidance as she eagerly took him in deeper. She was … supernatural.

She gagged as she took in the whole length of him but she kept her tongue swirling around his base even as her eyes watered from the lack of oxygen. Peter almost lost it then but she pulled away with a gasp, “Good, Peter?”

“So good, Doe. So good.”

Doe giggled and went back to tending to him, bobbing her head up and down with the guidance of Peter’s hands wrapped around her hair. He could only handle a minute of it before his hips were bucking and he was releasing into her mouth.

Peter opened his mouth to tell her she could spit it out but he watched as she swallowed it all and with little complaint. Doe was satisfied knowing she could take care of Peter in this way now. She stood up and crawled into his lap, straddling him.

“What am I gonna do with you, huh?”

“Kiss Doe?”

Peter smiled and pecked her lips.

Doe felt like a princess.

Hope you enjoyed! Reblogs will probably be added to the taglist or send me an ask if you want me to be added! Check out my master list for more of my Peter fics.

#dark peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x oc #dark fic #dark Peter x reader #peter parker smut #spiderman #mcu smut #mcu #marvel fanfiction #marvel #marvel smut #au #dahyun #a/b/o smut #avengers a/b/o #peter parker #michelle jones #peter parker x mj

464 notes · View notes

highpope · 3 years

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Silver Keys - Ch. Four

JJ Maybank x OC x Topper Thorton // Soulmate AU

warnings: mentions of abuse, swearing

notes: HI! I rewrote the ending of this ch. instead of finishing my Industry paper. I really hope you liked it :) Let me know what you think!!

Tags: @allycat449-blog @ifilwtmfc @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @auds24 @messagesinthesky @collecting-stories @cognacdelights @sunsetholland @uwubonebabie

(if you wanna be tagged or removed message me)

JJ never liked his birthday. It was just the weight of the day and the pressure to make it memorable. It was never something he could give himself. He didn’t like to make a big deal about it either. It was easier that way. It’s not that he didn’t appreciate what his friends did for him, he really did.

JJ remembers for his 16th birthday his dad was passed out drunk the whole morning and Pope came and picked him up and they went surfing all day. Later they stayed at John B’s, sang happy birthday, and had brownies, his favorite. He had found out later that Kie and June had baked the brownies themselves. It was the best birthday he had ever had.

JJ’s birthdays were always a fight with his dad. Like a sad yearly tradition that left him more bruised than the day before. The day reminded his dad of his mom and how they weren’t in love anymore and that she left him. That’s JJ, the constant reminder of the shitty world they live in.

His mom left them both. JJ always clarified that. If his dad got to be bitter and drink himself to death, then JJ got to be upset about it. Even just a little.

He hadn’t lived with his dad in a few years, only stopping in once and a while to make sure he wasn’t dead, had paid the bills, and kept food in the fridge. He didn’t deserve it, but not doing it made JJ feel guilty.

JJ had made it clear to his friends that he didn’t want to draw attention to his birthday this year.

“We’re not doing any party shit, okay? I just wanna go surf.” He had said Sunday. No one argued, but Kie did insist they at least go to The Wreck Friday for dessert. They all agreed and would stay over at the chateau to get to the beach the following morning. That was before June stood him up for surfing. And before she said she’d go out with Topper Friday night. Pope seemed to be on her side which was just the icing on his sad, sad birthday cake. He said as such to him when they went surfing Tuesday morning.

“JJ, I am not on anyone’s side. There are no sides.”

“But you knew!” JJ responded, his thoughts were circling in his head.

Pope sighed, “I knew that he sort of asked her out back at that party, but I didn’t know he came into the shop yesterday. and,” he gave JJ a pointed look, “I didn’t know you’d be this upset about June going on a date.”

“I’m not. She can go out with whoever she wants to go out with,” he said matter of factly.

Pope just raised his eyebrows and went back to unloading his car. They hadn’t made it down to the beach yet, JJ too distracted to keep walking.

“It’s just Topper man,” JJ fake shivered.

“Listen, no one’s thrilled about it being him, but we at least owe it to June to act, I don't know, neutral about the situation.”

“Okay, okay,” JJ brushed off his comment.

JJ wanted to say that no one knew if Topper was really June’s soulmate or not, but he knew that he would tell JJ not to be rude and accuse him of being in love with his best friend. Which was not the case here.

“No, I’m serious JJ. Don’t make her feel bad about going out with him. We owe it to her. That and about a million other things.”

JJ let that thought roll over in his mind. He was right. June was the most caring person in the world, she had put them all first every single time.

“Yeah, I know.” He paused, “And what if it’s not him?”

Pope was already walking down the beach, annoyed at how long JJ was taking, “then we fuck his shit up.”

JJ laughed at his abruptness because that’s exactly what he would have said.

The both of them spent the next few hours in the water, but JJ couldn’t stop thinking about what Pope said. And that’s why, the next day, JJ got out of bed before noon and drove to the bait shop around the time June would be getting off. He knew she wouldn’t have driven there, it was too nice of a day. So, he sat in the parking lot and waited.

When she was finally leaving, she used the side door. JJ had to run to catch up with her, startling both himself and June.

“Hey!” he called out.

She froze before turning around, “what’re you doing?” “Can I drive you home?”

She thought about it before agreeing.

“I’m sorry,” JJ began when they had gotten out of the parking lot. She was quiet and very visibly tired.

“The JJ Maybank… apologizing?” So, she was still mad.

“Okay, I deserve that. Go ahead, give it to me.”

June stayed silent in the passenger seat, her head leaning against the window, “No, I just shouldn’t have said anything.”

He gripped the steering wheel tighter, “No, it was shitty of me to be all passive-aggressive about it. It really doesn’t matter who you go out with or who you don’t or if it’s Topper or whoever.”

He looked over at her, bouncing her leg up and down and still leaning against the door.

“Are we okay?” he asks

“Always.” It took a moment for her to look over at him but she smiled. JJ cleared his throat and shifted his eyes back to the road. He already felt better, like he could breathe properly again knowing she wasn’t pissed off at him.

“What’re you humming?” He asks.

Her eyes were closed when she answered, “I don’t know. It’s been stuck in my head all day.” and then she started humming again, louder for JJ to hear.

“Oh, I know that song!” He starts to sing along, filling in the words.

June laughs, “I’ve literally never heard that song. That’s wild.”

“It’s your soulmate?” JJ poses tentatively.

“Yeah, yeah I guess so.” She breathed.

When they parked he asked, “Do you really think it’s Topper?”

June shot him a look instantly. He held his hands up in surrender, “I’m not arguing. Just… curious.”

She sighed a little before speaking, “I don’t know. But I’d hate myself if I didn’t try to find out, ya know?”

JJ just nodded his head, she looked as if she wanted to say more, but stopped herself. June climbed out of the truck and yelled behind her, “See you Friday?”

“Of course,” he yelled back. He watched her close the door behind her before driving off.

JJ didn’t go straight back to the chateau. Instead, he kept driving, the radio at the lowest possible setting, all the windows down until he ended up at his dad’s house. He parked a few houses down and just watched. He wasn’t sure if he was trying to build up the courage to go in, or if he wanted to see his dad come out, or what. He stayed for a while, not thinking about anything specific, just breathing in the cool air and watching.

Sometimes JJ wanted so badly to hate his dad. He desperately tries to erase all traces of familiarity, every last thing about himself that could possibly lead someone to Luke Maybank. He hated him. He hated him for giving JJ his eyes and his rough demeanor. He used to wish to be softer, kinder, more gentle. Someone like Pope or June. Instead, he was steel, dented, and hard to fix.

Sometimes JJ wanted so badly to hate his dad and everything he had done to him, that he couldn’t.

On Friday morning, well Friday afternoon, JJ walked into the living room of an empty chateau. Half asleep, he stumbled into the kitchen and pulled out an empty Eggo waffle box from the freezer. Cool. He then dragged his feet over to the cabinets and pulled out what was left of the coffee grounds and began making a pot. He thought about calling Pope and making him bring some breakfast from his dad’s, but then he saw the note on the counter.

went to get groceries. can’t survive on stale Oreos anymore

John b.

Well, that answered that JJ thought as his stomach growled. Stale Oreos didn’t sound too bad now.

About a half-hour later, he heard someone on the front porch and thought it must be JB back from the store, hands filled with groceries.

He flung open the door, “God, I’m starving. What-” He stopped in his tracks. Standing in front of him was his dad. It felt wrong, having him here. In this place, in this safe space that he and his friends had created. Such evil and anger weren’t welcome.

“What’re you doing here?” JJ said when his mouth finally caught up with his brain.

“Is that any way to greet your father?” Luke spoke as if he was reading from a teleprompter. His words were slow and meaningless, slurred together without a thought behind them.

JJ stayed silent, disgust rising in him.

“Heard you were in the neighborhood.”

“No,” JJ said through gritted teeth, “must’ve been someone else.”

“Don’t lie to me, boy. I’m the one who taught you how.” He was inching closer. He reeked of alcohol and sweat.

“You didn’t teach me anything.” He spits.

“Listen to me you little shit” Luke started, laughing as he lunged forward. It was a dark, empty sound. It made JJ’s ears ring. He closed his eyes for a second and the laugh echoed. It encompassed him, became him. JJ saw every fight, every empty beer bottle, every stack of cash blown away, every sleepless night and it overtook him. He was the product of hatred. He was steel, so scratched and dented and kicked in that not even the best people could fix him.

When JJ opened his eyes, his body hurt and his ears were ringing and he thought his lip was bleeding. He was laying on the porch, propped up against the doorframe. Once he was sure his dad had left, he started to get up. Every thought in his head was replaced by the throbbing of his left side. The more he walked, the more he breathed, the quicker it morphed into anger, “Fuck,” he yelled, “He came here! Here. Here. He was here.” He repeated it over and over until the words had no meaning. He left through the backdoor and ended up at the overlook. His mind was racing, replaying the moments from earlier and every moment prior. JJ didn’t want to cry, didn’t want to be the little kid with the shitfaced dad who forgot his birthday. But he was, so he did. JJ cried until his eyes were puffy and his head hurt and the sun had started setting.

Now, JJ was sitting in John B’s spare room. He crawled in through the window, not wanting to run into anyone if they were home. They were probably trying to call, but his phone was in the living room from this morning. He didn’t want to have to tell them, watch as their eyes scanned over him to assess the damage. He looked around the room that had somehow become his own. There were clothes piled on the floor, a few swimsuits left from the others hanging on the door, and empty beer cans littering the ground. The bed frame was broken, making the whole mattress tilt slightly towards the left.

JJ didn’t know what it was like to call someplace home. He was always hesitant, afraid that someone would just pull the rug out from under his feet and he’d be left falling. He never called his childhood bedroom home, it was a house. With four walls and a shitload of bad memories. He wanted to scream, why did he still let his dad have this control over him? He threw a shoe across the room and stormed out before stopping short in the hallway. He could hear a voice in the living room.

“Kie, it’s fine. I’m not going to be late, I just stopped at the chateau to get changed.”

She paused.

“Because it’s faster than driving all the way back to my house.”

“Okay, see you in five.”

Shit, his birthday dinner. JJ tried to retreat to the room, but he wasn’t fast enough. June had already seen him, “J! I didn’t know anyone was here. Thought you’d be with everyone else by now.”

She was holding onto the door frame with one hand and attempting to pry off her heels with the other. She was wearing a sparkling purple dress that he didn’t recognize and her hair was lazily pulled up on top of her head. A wave of nerves flooded his body, but he suppressed the feeling almost as fast as it happened.

He cleared his throat, “Uh, yeah. I was just leaving. Actually.” He grabbed his keys off the counter. He wasn’t sure if she could see his bruised knuckles from there, but he didn’t want to give her the chance.

“I can drive,” she offered softly, “if you’ll wait five minutes so I can get out of this shit,”

He nodded his head, and slowly sat at the counter, “spare’s open if you want.”

She nodded, heading into the room. JJ took this opportunity to bandage his side in the bathroom. It was already bruised, so he put some aloe vera on before taping it up and changing into a different shirt. Pope had mentioned once that aloe vera can help inflammation. Ever since there’s been a bottle in the first aid kit. He liked the smell, reminded him of summer.

He cleaned the cuts on his hand and his lip like he should have when he first got here. The blood was dry on his face and cleaning it only made the cut reopen. Fuck it, he thought and met June back in the living room.

She had changed into jeans.

“Hey, is this mine?” she asked, pointing to the shirt she was wearing. It was a gray high school track t-shirt, “I forgot to pack one and saw this in the dresser.”

“Must be, I didn’t do track, hell no.”

She laughs before linking her arm through his and leading them to the car. JJ couldn’t help but wonder how her date went. She was in good spirits, better than usual he noticed. He wanted to ask, but he was certain he didn’t want to know the answer. He wanted to tell her about his dad, too, surprisingly. But he knew the face that she’d make as soon as the words were out of his mouth. And that hurt JJ more than the possible broken rib.

When they got to The Wreck, Mr. Carerra waved them to the back where the rest of their friends sat. It felt the most normal JJ had felt in a long time like time resets itself when the five of them sit around a wooden table eating ice cream.

He tried to focus on the conversation, on the light music being played through the restaurant, on the crickets outside, anything to ground him to this moment.

“JJ?” John B asked from across the table.

“Hey,” June said a little louder, hitting his stomach to get his attention. He winced slightly before responding, “huh? Sorry. I was, uh, trying to figure out what song was playing.”

Pope and Kie share a look before diverting their attention back to John B who repeated his question, “Are you excited to figure out your soulmate?”

“Oh,” JJ laughed, “yeah. Thrilled.”

“Come on, it’s kind of exciting. You’ve gotta admit that.”

“Yeah, I guess.” His eyes scan the table, stopping at each of his friends. Truthfully, he doesn’t want anything to change. He’d trade a soulmate for his friends any day. It’s the only thing that makes sense.

When Kie's dad finally kicks them out of the restaurant, he makes her stay behind to clean the tables. They all offer to help, but to JJ’s excitement she assures them to go ahead and that she'd meet back up with them in a little. Pope and John B hop in the van and start driving away before the rest of them are even in the parking lot, “See you in ten,” Pope yells from the passenger side.

Once June and JJ are in the car, she makes JJ close her eyes.

“Why?” he questioned.

“Just do it.”

“June, I really-”

“Please?”

He huffed and pulled down his hat to cover his eyes. He could hear her moving around next to him.

“Okay, open.” JJ did as he was told and was presented with a soft gift-wrapped present.

“Happy birthday,” she said sweetly. She was facing him, turned sideways in the driver's seat with her head resting on the chair.

“It’s not my birthday yet.” He said, meeting her eyes.

“I wanted to be first.”

“I told you not to get me anything.”

“I don’t care,” she chuckled.

“June,”

“Take the present, you jerk.”

He pulled back the paper revealing a keychain laid on top of some type of clothes. He held it up to get a better look and realized it was a surfboard with “OBX” written on it like from a tacky souvenir shop, “cute.”

She smiled, “now look at that.”

He lifted the crewneck in his lap, it was a light blue color and had stitching near the colors.

Before he could say anything June interrupted, “Found it in that thrift shop by my house the other day.”

“I love it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, are you kidding?” He laughed a little, “thank you.”

She smiled again, satisfied with herself before turning forward and starting the car.

JJ messed with the rings on his fingers, examining the bruises that had started to form/

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,”

“Have you… heard anything else? Like your soulmate, I guess.”

He felt her hesitate beside him, “Ya know what nevermind. It’s okay, you’re pretty sure it’s Topper and you really don’t have to tell me anything. It is totally okay. I was just-”

“Nervous?”

He sighs, “yeah.”

She clears her throat, “it’s not scary. At all. It is weird though, weird as hell. I mean it’s almost like if you weren't paying attention, you’d never even notice.”

She had the same far-off look John B got when he talked about this shit. It made him uneasy.

“But to answer your question, I’ve only heard it a few times.”

He nodded his head and mulled over what she said.

When he opened the door to the chateau, he was met by everyone standing in the living room, “happy birthday!”

“You distracted me!” He yelled at June shutting the door.

“It was my job!” she yelled back, “I had to give them time.”

He was laughing at everyone’s stupid party hats and the tray of brownies with sloppy “happy bday J” iced on top with a single lit candle. He made a show of blowing it out and pulled the others into a hug. He pretended to be annoyed at the effort, but deep down he had been so excited.

Later, he tried to etch it into his mind. He wanted to remember tonight as the best birthday he had ever had. He smiled as he fell asleep on a mattress that didn’t tilt to the left anymore in a room that he had made his home.

#obx #obx fic #topper obx #topper outer banks #jj maybank #jj obx #jj outer banks #jj x oc #outer banks #outer banks fic #obx soulmate #outerbanks #outer banks soulmate #jj maybank x oc #original character #highpope-fics #highpope #silver keys #silver keys masterlist

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cowboisadness · 3 years

Text

Hang ‘Em High {Arthur Morgan x F!OC} Chapter 20

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x FemOC

Summery: Belle Hawthorne is high society looking to escape her mean husband. A robbery by the Van Der Linde gang could be her chance. Can she escape his cluches and possibly discover what love should feel like?

.....

Chapter 20

Arthur was more alert by the sixth day. Deciding to stay seated most of the time but also getting up to wander around camp with the aid of someone else, despite his displeasure of ‘needing to be babied’ as he put it. He was sitting up in his cot, his back leaning against the wagon with his journal in his lap. Sketching something by the looks of it with the way he carried the pencil across the page and his brows furrowed in intense concentration. He wanted the hangings to be tied back during the day now to let in some fresh air and probably not to feel as alone. He was always the most relaxed when he poured his thoughts and scribbled his findings into that little leather-bound book. No doubt keeping him grounded when everything around him became too chaotic to control. Glad I asked last night if I could see some of his newer drawings despite his soft protests that they weren’t anything worth looking at. The real Arthur laid within those pages. His attention turned to me as I made my way over with two bowls of stew. A smile gracing his face as he closed his journal and placed it beside him.

“Went hunting with Charles this morning. Venison instead of rabbit so hopefully it’s slightly more edible.” I said, handing the bowl to him with a smile to match his.

We sat in silence as we ate, both of us watching the others go about their business all around us. Abigail and John having yet another argument. Molly with her ever-faithful pocket mirror open in her hand as she fixed her hair for the hundredth time today. I never spoke to Molly the whole time being here, but it didn't take long to realise she only wanted the attention of one person here. Sean and Karen sat eating together by the fire, the latter laughing at whatever the former had just said. Javier cleaning his knife.

Micah sulking outside of Dutchs tent as usual. Looking like a lap dog with separation issues.

“Yer hairs nice.” He said quietly beside me, pulling me back from my observations.

I couldn’t help the smile tugging at my lips, looking down to continue eating.

“Thought it could help me be less recognisable.”

“Well, it looks nice on ya. Not that ya didn't before - just - smart idea,” He was stumbling over his words, stopping with a sigh and rolling his shoulder.

He was starting to regain more movement and he was determined to keep it moving despite the pain. No doubt the whiskey he was constantly drinking helped. Seeing him in constant pain from even minute movements had the guilt rattling within me. I needed to tell him.

Placing my almost empty bowl down on the table I looked back out to the camp. Taking in a deep breath before speaking.

“I’ve been thinking...something needs to be done with Frank.”

“You still wanting to kill him?”

“Well, yes,” I sighed “But, I don’t know. He won’t give up, that's clear enough.”

“Seeking revenge don’t help anyone. We will deal with him when the time comes.”

“When will that be? When others are hurt from his orders? When someone is killed?” He sighed then, his shoulders slumping. I watched him and waited. Maybe he had a plan or needed time to think of one. One thing was sure, Frank needed to be gone.

“Let’s go down to the lake.”

We both walk along the lakeside, making sure to take it slow. His energy was still drained from the ordeal and healing and it would take a couple of weeks till he feels more like himself, but he knew that the injury would affect him for months if not the rest of his life. I know why he's suggested a walk and it's not just so he can escape from the constant noise at camp. But no matter how he tries I can't take my mind off what needs to be done. Living in fear until I or someone else is hurt because of this. I took some deep breaths, letting the fresh open air fill my lungs to steady myself in the hopes the waves of panic will be soothed.

“I want to thank you again for bringing me here that night,” I started with a breath, carelessly kicking the rocks at my feet. He hummed for me to continue.

“I’m a different person from who I was not so long ago. You didn't need to entertain what I was asking that night, never mind help me, but you did and it’s a kindness I don’t think I can repay. These people and the things I have learned, I just know I’m a stronger person because of it and it’s mainly thanks to you and I know I have the ability to actually stand up for myself thi-”

“Bella…” He interrupted to stop my rambling knowing full well I didn't even know I was. Total word vomit instead of saying what needed to be said.

Another breath

“I’m going to go back,”

He stopped beside me but didn't speak. Expecting me to laugh and say ‘haha fooled you’ but this was no joke. I waited for some sort of reply but instead, he gave out an annoyed huff, looking down at his feet and then out over the lake as he shifted on his feet. Either from him still being weak or from the growing aggravation that was evident from the scowl on his face I did not know.

“I have to-”

“No.”

“Arthur I can’t just si-”

“Are you a fool? You really think going back to him is the smartest idea?”

“If it means you and everyone else will be safe. Yes.”

“I don’t know where your head has been all this time but in case you aren’t aware this life we live ain’t been safe for a long time. We been fighting O’Driscolls for years an’ that ain’t stoppin’. Pinkertons breathing down our necks and you really think we will be any safer if you go back to that sorry excuse of a man?”

I tried to think of something, anything, to say, but my mouth just kept bobbing open and closed like a fish desperate for water.

“And what about your safety?” he continued with a raised voice, taking a few steps forward to close the gap slightly. Making sure no words of his would be lost between us.

“You believe going back to him is better than having me and the others here to protect you?”

Swallowing the lump in my throat and taking in an unsteady breath, I looked away from him and out into the horizon beyond the lake. The reds and oranges filling the clouded sky as the sun began to settle beyond the edge. The distant haze dulling what would be a vibrant and beautiful night thus bringing the promise that the day’s end would be a dark and unsettled one. My mind felt just as hazy.

“This is all my fault,” I whispered to myself, to him and to the descending sun.

“You’re staying here where I know you will be safe” he concluded with a snarl in his voice then turning on his heels back towards camp.

Keeping my eyes on the lake I couldn’t watch him walk away again. My shoulders slumping and determined to not let tears well in my eyes to the point of falling. What did I expect? I had to tell him in the hopes he would have a better idea of dealing with this. Instead, I just got reprimanded like a child and left in the dirt, again.

I couldn’t face walking back into camp just yet so I made my way to the jetty, sitting on the edge with my feet just skimming the water’s surface. Keeping my eyes on the haze as it engulfed everything in the distance.

I must have been there for hours, the nights chill had set in for good and the crescent moon was giving us whatever light it could reflect. Everything was in black and white.

Footsteps on the jetty behind me caught my attention and a voice followed.

“You’ll catch your death out here.”

It was Abigail, coming to a stop behind me but still giving me some space.

“You wanna talk about it?”

I just shook my head.

“Ya know, talking about your worries does help. I know that’s rich coming from me since John and I shout at each other more than we talk.”

I shook my head again, not able to trust my own voice. It was silent between us for a few moments, the only sound being the water lapping at the shore. I thought she might have left knowing she wasn’t going to get anything out of me until I heard her steady inhale.

“This is a nice place to clear your head or get your head in order. Arthur was sat out here just this morning, drawing in that little book of his... Drawing you.” She paused then, waiting for a reply that wouldn’t come before giving up and continuing.

“I’ve been with this gang for many years. He truly cares about you.”

Then she left, her slow footsteps getting quieter and quieter until all I could hear was the water again. Lower lip now quivering.

I stayed in that spot for a while longer, could have been a few hours. The moon now high in the sky when I turned my head towards the camp. It looked quiet. Everyone must have been asleep by now.

So I made my way over, the chill now felt in my bones as I made my way over to my tent. Glancing around the camp to see it empty and quiet apart from the recognisable snores thanks to Uncle.

Everyone was asleep.

I didn't have much to pack. A few clothes and my gun. Tearing a blank page from one of the books Hosea gave me I scribbled hastily onto it.

The coast was clear as I slowly made my way out of the tent, making sure not to wake the girls nearby by keeping my footfalls mute.

But before making my way to the horses I made my way over to Arthurs tent. No light escaping from the bottom of the drapes that were closed meant he must have been asleep.

I peeked inside to see him on his back with a blanket thrown over him. His breathing deep.

Step by step I made my way inside, watching over his sleeping form as I placed the scribbled on paper on the table, the flower in the jar taking place as a paperweight.

Glancing at him one last time before leaving and making a beeline towards the horses.

Someone would be on guard but I wasted no time as I mounted Orion and made my way through the trees so I wouldn’t be seen by whoever was stood on the pathways. Withholding myself from looking back.

@kashasenpai @fallout-cowgirl @averyspicybaguette

#hang em high #hang em high fic #arthur morgan x oc #arthur morgan fic #arthur morgan x original female character #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fic #arthur morgan x fem oc

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toloveawarlord · 3 years

Text

The Jack of My Heart (Ch.1)

You can find my masterlist in my bio!

Pairing: Joanna Clemence x Edgar Bright

Tagging: @plumpblueberry @thetwinkims @youreawizardharr @starry-starry-night24

A/N: I finally have a solid story planned for genderbent Jonah series! Edgar and Joanna are already in a relationship at the start of this story. Cooper Aldrich is the Ten of Hearts, a new oc that resides in this universe!

Enjoy! Merry Christmas!

“Good morning, my Queen.”

Most in headquarters would still be sleeping soundly in their beds, the day not ready to begin for them. The sun was not above the horizon, only soft hues of red and orange brushed along the navy sky signaled the coming day. Joanna removed one last book from the shelf for reference, amber irises flickering over to catch a glimpse of him, widening in surprise at how close he’d become.

Ever so silent.

She took a step back only to hit the wall, caged in as he leaned his arm against the hall above her head. “You didn’t sleep well last night. I do hope it wasn’t on my account,” Edgar teased, brushing a mint strand away from her face. Not many would notice the tiredness on her otherwise perfect features, but the Jack had spent more time than most studying her.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Edgar. I had a lot of work to complete.” What a ridiculous notion.

Why would it matter to her that he’d been away on family business the whole of yesterday and failed to return until an hour ago? She’d only happened to be passing by the window when she’d spotted him coming through the front gate. Of course, she wouldn’t tell him even if she had missed him a minuscule amount.

The Queen of Hearts wouldn’t waste her precious time on something so trivial.

“Oh? What work?” Jade irises focused on the curve of her pink lips, parting and then pressing together in irritation. He didn’t need her to admit it. He knew that she completed all her work in a timely manner, as expected of a Clemence.

It was oh so adorable when she denied her feelings so adamantly.

“You see, I have a theory that you missed me so terribly that it affected your sleep.”

Her nose turned upward. “A fantasy. I’ve no such feelings. In fact, I’d rather you’d be away today as well, as I’ve much to complete and having you begging for my attention-- what are you doing?” Amber eyes were drawn down to where Edgar had sunk to one knee.

He took her hand, placing a kiss to her knuckles before meeting her gaze. “Would you like it if I begged? I surely don’t mind showering my lovely Queen in affection.” He teased as easily as he breathed, but it always worked in his favor.

Joanna bit on her lip as he turned his head to pepper kisses on her thigh over the fabric. His fingers laced with hers, no resistance, or complaints. He could expertly undo her like no one else could.

But their relationship was still very much a secret. Only a handful of those in the army were privy to that information.

The door handle clicked, signaling new arrivals. A small spark of anxiety rose in her chest. Even after she called his name, Edgar only egged her on with a hum of a response and another kiss to her stomach where he’d managed to tug her pink button up out of her waistband.

It was clearly his fault. Utterly, entirely his fault.

Her boot connected with his shoulder, shoving him off balance and onto the floor. Not hard enough to actually harm him, although with the giddy grin on his lips, Joanna imagined he might enjoy it. He must be alright if he could look at her like that.

Like he was daring her to come down there with him, to give into her desire to kiss him until she had no air left and feel his skin against hers.

But the door was shoved open as Joanna managed to shove her shirt back into her pants. It would be suspicious to attempt to throw on her army jacket, so she refrained from reaching for it. Her shoulders relaxed at the sight of Zero and Cooper assisting a half-awake Kyle into the office for the morning meeting.

“This is not your personal quarters,” Joanna fussed as Kyle lazed across the couch, one arm over his eyes and the knuckles of his other hand brushing the floor as he groaned. Amber eyes shifted to the Ten of Hearts staring at her with a curious expression. “Do you need something, Aldrich?”

Cooper crossed his arms, head tilting to the side. “I’m simply trying to remember if I’ve ever attended a meeting with you not in full uniform.” His gaze flickered to his superior on the other side of the desk, but Edgar shrugged his shoulders as if he’d no idea.

Joanna took her jacket off the back of the chair and slid her arms into it. “It’s not any of your concern. Wipe that ridiculous dumbstruck expression off your face before King Lancelot arrives.” She smoothed out the jacket with both hands.

The only noise that filled the quiet space was Kyle’s constant moaning and groaning as he rubbed his temples. All four standing officers straightened when Lancelot entered the room. He took a seat at the desk before speaking. “You are all aware of the letters we received both last week and yesterday. Reports.”

“Well, according to my informant in Black Territory, the Black Army also received similar letters a year back, and they had three cases of arson varying in severity before the guy went underground,” Cooper started, bypassing his superiors to speak first.

It mattered little, so Joanna let it go this time.

“Black Territory was probably a testing ground, but an entire year is a long waiting period for someone who caused so much damage,” Zero continued. Most arsonists accelerated, growing bolder with their targets.

Lancelot nodded in grim agreement. It was unlikely that this person simply stopped causing fires. He could not allow someone so dangerous to roam free within his country. “The decoded letter left us with a location, did it not?”

“Yes, and with permission, I’d like to go investigate it personally. The message was much too easily deciphered, and I believe there could be something of value to be found there,” Joanna said. It would be careless to simply send a soldier.

Cooper didn’t hold back his loud, resigned sigh. “Respectfully, my Queen, it’s clearly a trap.” He’d mapped out the coordinates to find an old sawmill in the countryside. Going there would be doing what this psychopath wanted. “My suggestion would be to wait it out.”

“Wouldn’t we be risking angering him by not showing up at his first location? Arsonists are known for being narcissists,” Zero said.

“They also like to watch their handiwork. This first letter is taunt to see if we are listening. It’s worth going, and I also don’t remember asking for your opinion, Ten.” Her voice sharper than her blade. He had a tendency to speak however he felt, regardless of his rank.

The tension in the room became thick. Amber irises narrowed; the Queen of Hearts annoyed at the defiant expression on Cooper’s features. Two opposite plans clashing into each other.

Lancelot turned to the third highest ranking officer, who hadn’t said a word. “You’ve been oddly quiet.” Most of the time, it meant he was up to no good, but for important matters, it simply meant Edgar was analyzing all the information.

“I’m in agreement with Joanna. It’s undoubtedly valuable to see what is so special about the sawmill.” The Jack was more than intrigued. Whoever this person was, they might cure his boredom for a while.

The King folded his hands together, regarding his officers with absolute authority. “We cannot risk the lives of our citizens. I want this solved as swiftly as possible. Joanna will be in charge of the investigation; you will all report directly to the Queen. Dismissed.”

With his final words, the four officers vacated the office, leaving the sleeping Kyle behind. When the door closed with a thud, only then did Cooper speak again. He did not approve of this plan at all. “You should reconsider. It’s the wrong move.”

“As opposed to what you proposed? Do you really think that ignoring a narcissist is going to bode well for our citizens? We can’t predict how they will respond if we don’t go. I, for one, am not willing to risk a town burning to the ground because you were too frightened to go to the given location,” Joanna snapped in return. The two clashed often but never to this degree.

Cooper looked as though he would draw his sword and challenge her to duel at any moment. Anger swelled up inside him. “You might be my superior, but you aren’t always right, Queen.” Golden irises brimmed with aggravation. This mistake might cost them their second highest in command, and that would reflect badly on the army. But he refrained from arguing more, instead taking a deep breath. “Don’t be reckless.”

And he stalked off in the other direction, needing to cool down before he trained his squad.

“Well, that was certainly heated,” Edgar commented. He never inserted himself unless absolutely needed, especially when it came to Joanna. There were plenty of rumors about the two, saying that their relationship might cloud their judgment.

Joanna brushed her hand through her mint hair, irritation etched into her features. She hadn’t the time to deal with Cooper’s little tantrum. “Zero, I want a list of all the suspicious fires in Red Territory and Central Quarter mapped out by the time I return.”

With a salute and confirmation, Zero left the two as well.

Silence hung in the hallway. Cooper made plenty of valid points, of that she was sure. It didn’t, however, change the truth of the matter. This was not a random location. It had to mean something to the arsonist. The Queen had far too many questions and not nearly enough answers.

It wasn’t until a pair of jade irises were peering into her amber ones, gloved hands holding her face, that Joanna heard Edgar speaking to her.

“I was asking if you would like to-”

“Come with me.”

The Jack of Hearts quieted at her sudden command. Whatever she meant, his answer remains the same, but he’d wait until she’d elaborated. Her porcelain cheeks now tinted with pink. He wanted to kiss her so badly, making her oh so flustered.

“What I mean is, it would be irresponsible to go alone, and another set of eyes would be a little helpful.” Her gaze flickered around, unable to settle. She shouldn’t have blurted that out, as he would tease her endlessly about it. “Not that I need you specifically--”

Edgar grinned, thoroughly enjoying the panic as she tried to cover up what she’d said. But it was too late. “The two of us, alone, on a mission? I would be honored to join you, my queen. Then I can kiss you whenever I like without the constant worry that someone might see.” His lips brushed against hers, but ultimately denied a true kiss.

“This isn’t permission to do as you please! We’ll be working.”

“Of course, but...” Edgar bent to whisper in her ear, hot breath sending a shiver down her spine. He continued to wind up tightly, patient enough to wait until she released all that pent up desire. His voice low, speaking solely to her. “Once we’re finished with all the day’s work and retire to our private room in a small, hidden inn, I promise I’ll bring out that naughty side of yours.”

Joanna lost the ability to focus on anything other than the sound of his voice echoing in her head, repeating the same words over and over, like a sexy broken record. It became too much for her to bear. She shoved him away, turning her back to him as he snickered.

She couldn’t admit it, but she was looking forward to seeing if he’d deliver on that promise.

#ikemen revolution #ikerev #joanna clemence #genderbent jonah #edgar bright #12 days of ocmas #cooper aldrich #he's a riot #they fight all the time #i ship joanna and edgar so much #they are so good together

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geniusgub · 4 years

Text

north//chapter five

new chapter time!! let me know if you want to be added onto the taglist. enjoy and don’t forget to leave your feedback!

also this chapter is dedicated to @babybobbybones because Ruby is always so supportive of my writing and they are always willing to give me honest opinions on my writing and my moodboards so thank u sm!!!!! love u fishy!! dis is for u!

genre: fluff

pairing: season nine spencer x female oc

warnings: none

word count: 5.6k

AMELIA

I fall onto the floor of my studio, leaning my head against the wall and staring up at the easel, a half-painted canvas propped up on it. I scrunch up my nose, tilting my head back and forth to try and find the beauty in the ugly flowers I’ve just painted. I sit up on my knees and reach my brush forward, adding just a few more strokes to the canvas, but my brush happens to be too saturated with water and the paint just drips down to the bottom of the canvas, ruining the entire painting. Whatever, I didn’t like it anyway.

I throw my brush into the water and sit back down against the wall, letting my eyes wander out the window to my left. My eyes dart between the window and the canvas and I wonder whether I should start over on a new canvas or throw in the towel for the day. Before I can either stand to get my keys and leave or stand to retrieve a new canvas, my phone starts ringing beside me. The name Mike flashes across my screen, so I lunge to answer.

"Hi, there!” I quip, and before Mike can even speak, I hear squeaks and screams of children in the background. The sound makes me grin.

"Hey, Lia. How's it going over in Virginia?" He nearly has to shout over the kids around him.

"It's-" my eyes wander back out the window and to the Starbucks across the street. A couple walks out the door just at that moment, clutching cups of steaming liquid and giggling with each other. My smile only grows and my mind wanders off to Spencer and what he might be doing right now while I’m trying to work, "it's pretty amazing, actually. I'm, um, yeah, it's great, Mike,"

"That's,” he pauses, “great, but there’s something else in your voice. What's happening in Virginia? Anything I need to know about?" Mike's voice is teasing, as he always is.

"Maybe," I respond in the same mischievous tone he gives me, my cheeks turning pink. I don’t give Mike another chance to question what is going so well in Virginia, and I just keep talking about the guy that has been on my mind every second since I first laid my eyes on him. "I've, um, I met a guy and I really like him and-"

"Whoa, whoa, you've got a boyfriend? Have we entered a parallel universe? Is this even you on the phone? Whoever is talking to me on the phone- who are you and what have you done with Amelia Stark?”

"I know, I know," I giggle, and I start to kick my feet like an excited child. "I met him at this cafe, and I swear, Mike, you'd love him. He's insanely smart and he's so sweet and he's such a gentleman. And get this, if you're not convinced then this will convince you- he’s an FBI agent."

"Amelia Stark. You're dating an FBI agent?"

"More specifically, he works for the BAU," Again, I let out a dramatic sigh and fall onto my back on the floor, letting myself be pulled into another lovesick daydream. I let my mind wander off to Spencer’s smile and his laugh and his warm touch and how utterly beautiful he makes me feel whenever we are together. "I just- I know I don't really date but-"

"Telling me you don't date is the understatement of the century. You’re not a commitment girl, and you’re a one night stand girl. You've never answered my calls and told me that things in Virginia are amazing and great and you've definitely never told me that you have a boyfriend, much less a boyfriend that works for the BAU,"

"There's just something about him! He's so different from any guy I've ever met before. I never wanted him to just be a one night stand or some guy that I hang out with for a few weeks and then forget about. Spencer is just amazing- he's so gentle with me, and he indulges in the things I like instead of always forcing the things he likes on me, and he always makes an effort to see me even though he's insanely busy,"

"Wow," Mike scoffs out a laugh. "I don't even know what to say. I'm glad you found someone who you like this much. I'm not even gonna bring up the capital L word because I know you're scared of it, but I have a nasty feeling that you might be bringing up the scary L word soon. And I'm even more glad that you've found an FBI agent with a gun who can protect you,"

"Oh my gosh," I shake my head at him, rolling my eyes into the back of my head. "I've never seen his gun, actually,"

"Good. You tell him to keep his gun away from you for quite a while, especially since you’re telling me he won’t be one of your one night stands. Both of his guns, if you know what I mean,"

My jaw nearly hits the floor at Mike’s remark, and before I can even respond, he bursts into a fit of laughter. "I- oh my god, you did not just say that,”

He chokes on his laughs as he keeps talking. "I'm only messing with you, but not really. Form emotional connections before you jump into bed. That’s what I did with Wendy and look at how long we’ve been together,”

I wrack my brain for any kind of number, but I come up empty. “How long have you guys been together?”

“Too long,” he deadpans.

“Hey! I hope Wendy isn’t home right now because she would have your head on a stake if she heard you say that,”

“She’s at work right now but she left me alone with all the little monsters. Listen, just make sure you use-"

"A condom! I got it, Mikey. I’m a responsible adult, contrary to popular belief. Can we stop talking about this? Let me talk to the kids! I’ll tell them to stop screaming,” I sit up again and my grimace from the slightly NSFW conversation turns into a wide smile, the giddiness bubbling in my stomach.

"Hey, kiddos! Gather around! Your favorite grown-up person is on the phone!" Mike shouts over the hoard of children in his house, and their shouts get closer and closer to his phone until their voices are blaring through the speaker of my phone.

"Amelia! Amelia! Amelia!"

"Hi, my loves!" I exclaim, "how's everything with Mike and Wendy?"

"Come home, Lia! We miss you!" Reese cries out, stumbling over her words in a way that makes my heart swell.

"You didn't come home for Christmas and we missed you so much!" Tyler squeaky voice adds.

"I know, I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to come home for Christmas, and I missed you guys so much too. But I’m sure Mike and Wendy made Christmas really special for everyone, didn’t they? I'm gonna try to come home soon but I can't promise anything. I have lots of pictures of you all and I think about you every day. I'll draw and I'll paint lots of new things and I'll send them home to you. Does that sound good?" They all shout confirmations back at me, and I manage to pick out a few requests for things like dogs and cats and flowers, and that request makes me remember the failed painting right in front of me. "Great. I'm sitting in my studio right now so I'll get working on those. If y’all have any more requests then tell Mike and he’ll tell me. I love you all, okay? I miss you guys so much,"

The kids all shout goodbyes at me before there's rustling on the other line. "Alright, it's just me now," Mike says.

"I actually plan on sending you guys art, partly because I want to and partly as an apology for not coming home for the holidays. Let me know if you need anything new for the walls, whether it’s at home or at the police station. Need a new piece for your office, Sheriff?" I tease, pushing myself off the floor for the first time in almost two hours, grabbing a stack of new canvases.

"We could always use more of your artwork, sweetheart, you know that. Call more, okay? I know it's hard, but we clearly all love hearing from you. And I wanna hear more about this profiling boyfriend of yours. Maybe I'll look up his file in the FBI database,"

"You don't have access to that database, you’re not a federal agent. Just google his name. I gotta get started on these paintings. I’ll call soon.”

“Wait! I only know his first name! What’s his-”

“Oops, that sucks. Tough luck. Gotta go,” I finally get the chance to throw his teasing right back in his face, a grin coming to my face as he groans dramatically. “Love you, Mikey!”

"Love you, kid. Stay safe,"

"You too. Don't get shot,"

"I won't."

///

SPENCER

///

My fingers drum against the book on my lap as I listen to dial tones over and over, waiting anxiously for an answer. Maybe today is a bad day and we don’t get to talk today, and that’s okay. There’s always tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that. But I was just hoping for a nice conversation today, and every time another dial tone rings in my ear, it’s like another stab to the chest.

“Spencer?”

I perk up at the answer, grinning and setting my book onto the coffee table in front of me."Hi, Mom,"

"Spencer, I've been waiting for you to call me for weeks! You can’t ignore me for that long! You can’t leave your poor, old mother in the wind like that!”

I chuckle at her, happy that today seems to be a good day and she’s even capable of joking around. "Sorry, Mom. I've been really busy with work lately, but I wasn’t ignoring you. How was Christmas? I'm sorry I couldn't make it out,"

"It was good, Spencer. I would've preferred to spend it with you, but I enjoyed it," Mom tells me. "We watched movies and made gingerbread houses and some of the nurses got us gifts,"

"That sounds wonderful,"

"So tell me how you've been, honey. You know I hate talking about me and this dreadful place. I'd much rather hear about you,"

My eyes wander over to the coffee table in front of me, or more specifically the scarf that Amelia had left here when stayed over. It must have slipped off of her head when we were sleeping and fell under the couch, and when she rushed out so I could get going, she didn’t realize she wasn’t wearing it anymore. I hadn't gotten a chance to return it because I got whisked away on a case and I haven't been able to see Amelia yet. I reach for it, feeling the soft silk between my fingers. "Um, it's- huh, it's actually pretty great over here,"

"That's wonderful to hear! What's so great about it?" Mom doesn't get much entertainment in her facility and her main contact comes through me. I'm always open to telling her everything and I try to write her at least one letter every day so she can have something to read if I can’t call her, but I was so hell-bent on keeping Amelia a secret. I thought that maybe if I kept her a secret from everyone, then I'd be taking one more precaution at shielding her from my world, but I know that's useless. It's not worth it to keep Amelia a secret and to lie about the source of my happiness, at least not from my mother.

"Well," I look down at the scarf and picture the way Amelia uses the square of fabric to tie back her unruly curls and the way she always seems to look like an angel, "I've met a girl,"

"I’m sure you meet many girls, Spencer. You’re going to have to be a little more specific than that.”

"Her name is Amelia and she's an artist and I swear, Mom, she's the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in my life. We met at the cafe where I get coffee before work and we got coffee together every day that I was home from a case for two months and we spent Christmas together. I just,” I fully expect my mom to cut me off and start rambling about Amelia and how I should pursue a relationship with her if she is making me this happy, but she doesn’t say anything and it forces me to have to finish a sentence I don’t want to say, “she's the first girl I've liked this much since, you know, since Maeve, and I knew I liked her right away and that’s just- it’s really scary,"

"Spencer, it sounds to me like you might even love her," Mom's voice softens. "I'm not going to try and tell you what you’re feeling, but like I always tell you, a mother knows. I'm happy for you, I really am. You deserve to be happy and have someone in your life to look after you and make sure you're healthy and take care of you. Did you ask her to be your girlfriend?"

"Yeah, last week. But we've known each other for almost three months and every time I look at her, I just feel so, I don’t really know. Whenever I get to see her, I never want to leave when I have to and-" I lay down on the couch and throw my head onto a pillow, the scarf resting right in front of my face. "Maybe I do love her. That's so scary though. I haven't known her for long at all. Can you fall in love with someone after three months?"

"When you first meet someone, you get a first impression, right? Sometimes you can be put off, or you can be instantly intimated by someone, or be intrigued, and so on. Love is a feeling, right? It’s a feeling in the same way that fear and intrigue are. Who’s to say you can’t feel love when you first meet someone? Who's to say you can't fall in love with someone in that same amount of time that someone can scare you? Love is complex and, yes, it’s scary and you've been scorned by it in the past, but don't let that get in the way of this good thing you've got with this Amelia girl,"

"I've never thought of love like that before."

Mom laughs gently. "Like I said. A mother knows," she pauses. "Oh, Spencer, I've gotta go. The nurses need me."

"That's fine," I breathe out a sigh, pushing myself up to a sitting position and pulling the scarf into my lap again. "Thanks for the talk. It was really helpful. I love you, Mom,"

"I love you too, Spencer," Mom says before hanging up, leaving me alone yet again in my apartment.

I push myself to my feet, leaving the scarf on the coffee table, making my way into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee for myself. I lean over the counter and check my watch, counting down the seconds until Amelia is set to show up at my door. And as if the universe is answering my silent prayer, there's a soft knock on the door just a millisecond later. I leave my coffee on the counter and rush to let her in, throwing the door open.

Amelia is standing there, looking as beautiful as ever, wearing a white dress and her black peacoat, camera hanging around her neck and one strap from her backpack draped over her shoulder. She’s beaming at me, almost emitting rays of sunshine from her body, shuffling her way through the door and throwing her arms around my neck in a tight hug. It nearly takes me by surprise, but if I’ve learned anything about Amelia by now, it’s that she’s affectionate and she loves to hug, and I can’t seem to find a single fault in that. I whisper a greeting in her ear, reaching around Amelia’s waist to shut the door, keeping out the cold air that blows inside from the hallway.

"Hi, dove," she chirps, sinking down on her heels when we pull away from the hug.

I cock my head to the side like a puppy, trying to hide my confusion but I’m positive it’s evident on my face. "Dove?"

"It’s just a pet name. Do you not like it? I could call you something else, or I could just stick to your name if that’s-”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Amelia unravels her arms from around my neck and shrugs off her backpack, hanging it right beside my jacket, then crouches down to take off her shoes. “I like it, actually.”

“Noted,” Amelia jumps back up to her feet, now noticeably shorter without her heels, and gives me a cheesy smile. She opens her mouth to say something else but her mouth snaps shut when her eyes travel downwards just a bit. “Spencer, you’re still in your work clothes.”

“Oh,” I follow her line of sight and look down at my trousers, button-up, cardigan, and tie, my gun holster on my hip (but my gun is locked away in a hidden place) and my credentials in my pocket, “yeah, sorry about that. After I got home, I was on the phone with my mom for a bit and I just didn’t get a chance to change yet.”

Amelia’s lips settle into a pout as she follows into the kitchen. “I hope I didn’t interrupt your phone call.”

“You didn’t, don’t worry. Do you want a cup of tea? Anything to drink or eat or-”

“I do but why don’t you go change? I can handle a cup of tea by myself. Put on something other than a dress shirt and a tie. Be comfortable,” she breezes right past me and reaches into the cupboard for a mug, already grabbing the kettle and filling it with water. I just watch her for a moment, slowly unclipping my watch from my wrist and watching the way her white dress slides across her legs with every tiny movement. But she doesn’t turn around again to check on my location and just looks between the box of Earl Grey tea and camomile tea, mulling over which to indulge in tonight. So I leave Amelia to her seemingly challenging decision and hurry off to my bedroom, ridding myself of the work clothes I’ve been wearing for almost thirty hours. I change into plaid pajama pants and a sweatshirt, only glancing in the mirror for a split second to check if my hair is an absolute mess before returning to Amelia.

She’s leaning against the counter with her mug in one hand and her camera in the other, and when I re-enter the room, she looks up at me and grins at the sight of my more relaxed state. “You look cozy. Guess I should have worn my pajamas today.”

I go and lean against the counter beside her, picking up my cup of coffee and looking over her shoulder at the pictures she is flipping through on her camera. At first, most of the pictures are of a redhead I’ve never seen before, posed in a park and modeling for the camera. Then the pictures turn to the sights I see every day and I conclude they must be pictures that Amelia took this morning or on her way here. “These are really good.”

“Oh, thanks,” Amelia’s cheeks turn pink at the compliment as she tosses the camera aside, clutching her cup of tea instead.

“I’d love to see more of your art sometime. I haven’t seen that much but the things that I have seen, I really loved.”

“Maybe one day, when you’re available, you can come to my studio. It’s just a couple of blocks away. I’d love for you to come and see some of what I do when you’re gone,” her head falls onto my shoulder and she scoots closer to me, her arm slowly moving around my waist, pulling me even closer to her. “It’s what I did all day. But speaking of all day, how was your day? How was the case?”

We move into the living room and get under a blanket as I give Amelia vague details about the case we solved this past week. She sits just as close to me as she was in the kitchen and tucks her feet under my legs to warm herself up, and once I’ve decided I’ve told her enough about the serial killer that we captured last night, she starts telling me about her last few days and how she went out to see a bad movie with her group of friends. She keeps moving closer and closer as the sun gets lower and lower and soon enough, Amelia is laying over my lap and my hands are in her hair, brushing the strands out of her face. I can confidently say that it’s the most relaxed and the most comfortable I’ve been this past week, and maybe even in the last few months. Every time Amelia is around and we get to just sit and talk, it’s a breath of fresh air. I don’t get to do this enough. I look up at the clock after being on the couch for a long time, seeing that it’s almost midnight. Thank god I don’t have to work tomorrow.

“Hey,” Amelia hums and looks up at me, her head in my lap and the blanket wrapped mostly around her, “it’s late. Do you want anything to eat?”

She hums once more, sitting up and keeping the blanket pulled up to her chest, her eyelids fluttering like a child fighting off sleep. “Yeah. I could really go for some ice cream. Do you have any?”

“I do, actually. But just chocolate, I think,” I stand from the couch and hold my hands out to Amelia, lugging her off the couch when she puts her hands in mine. She follows me one more time into the kitchen and pulls out bowls and spoons while I grab the gallon of ice cream from the freezer.

“So,” Amelia draws the word out, bumping her hip with mine when she reaches over me for a bowl, “will you tell me about your BAU team? I know their names, but they’re your best friends and basically your second family so I wanna know about them.”

“Oh, really? What do you wanna know?” She grins as I slide the chocolate syrup over to her and she quickly steals it to drizzle it all over her bowl of ice cream.

“Mm,” she hums, far too concentrated on her ice cream at first to give me a proper answer. But when she finishes with the syrup and hands it back to me, she hastily grabs spoons from the drawer and returns her full attention to the conversation, “just about your history with them. I’m not sure, whatever you wanna tell. Whatever’s important.”

We retake our seats on the couch, both of us now evenly draped in the blanket with our ice cream bowls in our hands. Amelia slings her legs over my lap and scoots as close to me as she can get, pressing her cheek to my shoulder. Despite wearing pajama pants, I can feel Amelia’s thighs, exposed by her dress, pressed against mine and it takes my breath away for a moment. I have to shift my position in the slightest so Amelia isn’t too on top of me, and once I’ve moved and I’m more comfortable, I start to let my mind race over what I could tell her.

“Well, Morgan is one of my best friends and he was one of the first people I met when I started working at the BAU. He’s loud sometimes and a little overwhelming but he’s always there for me. For example, during a case, I got anthrax poisoning and-”

Amelia nearly drops her bowl at this revelation and she reaches for my arm, squeezing tighter than ever before. “I’m sorry, what? Did I hear you correctly? Anthrax poisoning? And you’re still alive?” She practically throws her bowl onto the coffee table, quicking whipping around and grabbing my cheeks, pulling my face closer to hers until our noses are touching. “Am I speaking to a robot right now?”

My eyes practically roll into the back of my head. “A robot? Amelia, I can’t even use my DVD player. What makes you think I’m a robot, which is essentially a being made completely of technology?”

Amelia narrows her eyes at me, dragging her thumbs down to my jawline. She looks away for just a moment to eye the DVD player and then returns to me, just as close as she was two seconds ago. “Why do you have that thing if you don’t know how to use it?”

“It was a gift from JJ,” my lips brush against Amelia’s as I speak and even though we’ve kissed a million times by now, the feeling of our lips touching still makes the butterflies in my stomach act up. But her lips taste like chocolate and I can’t help it when I pull her closer and into a kiss. Now, it’s almost like it’s second nature to want to be constantly touching Amelia and kissing Amelia and just being around Amelia all the time.

Amelia abruptly pulls away from our kiss and lets out a loud yawn, her hand flying up to cover her mouth. “Sorry, sorry. It’s impossible to hold back a yawn while kissing.”

“It’s okay, it’s fine,” I wave my hand at her casually, and when she rubs her hands over her eyes and then pushes her hair back, my heart seems to pound just a little bit faster. She’s a little bit bleary as she inhales sharply, falling forward and pressing her temple against my shoulder. “Hey, it’s really late. I can tell you about my coworkers another day. Do you wanna get to sleep?”

“No,” she shakes her head but her body language strongly contrasts her words as she lets herself melt further into my embrace, “I don’t wanna leave you. I missed you a lot today.”

Okay, Spencer. Being bold with Amelia has yet to fail me so why should it now? Just ask her if she wants to spend the night for the first time. It’s with innocent intentions, anyway. No funny business. Just a couple sleeping in the same bed- what’s wrong with that? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. So just ask. Ask! It’s one night and I’ve recently cleaned my bedroom and washed the sheets so everything should be fine for a girl to sleep over. Sleep over? You’re not a ten year old, Spencer. Don’t ask her if she wants to sleep over like you’re a group of girls planning on eating candy and watching movies until three in the morning on the living room floor. Is that what girls do at sleepovers? I don’t even know. Nope, don’t get sidetracked. Just ask.

“Lia?” She hums in response, not even lifting her head from its spot on my shoulder. I’m used to her being boisterous and loud and positive when I’m anxious so I guess I’ll have to muster up enough courage to ask without her encouragement. “It’s really late already and, well, I don’t know what you’re doing tomorrow but would you wanna stay the night? It’s just- it’s past midnight and, you know, 40% of all fatal car accidents happen at night. 60% of adults have driven while drowsy and 37% of adults have fallen asleep at the wheel. I-“ I let out a breath, my chest deflating at her overall silence. “You don’t have to stay over and I could drive you home so you don’t have to drive but, you know, I would just like to know you’re safe.”

I pause once more and wait for some confirmation or rejection from Amelia, but all I’m met with is quiet breaths across my chest. I duck my head down and find Amelia fast asleep on my shoulder and one of the straps of her dress falling down her arm from the odd angle she’s laying at. Of course, what else would happen? I go on a nervous rant and Amelia sleeps through it.

“Hey, hey, Amelia?” I card my fingers through her hair and luckily, it’s enough to rouse her from her quick nap, and she lifts her head from my shoulder, eyes half-lidded. “Did you hear what I said?”

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t. I’m really tired.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was talking about. Do you want to stay the night? I gave you a bunch of statistics on car accidents at night but I’m sure you’ll fall asleep again if I repeat them.”

Amelia lets out a small laugh, pushing herself to a sitting position and rubbing her eyes yet again. “Could you lend me some clothes? Sleeping in a dress is not really my vibe.”

“Sure, I can give you some clothes. But let’s go to bed before you fall asleep again,” I grab onto Amelia’s hands and pull her off the couch, leading my half-asleep girlfriend to my bedroom. She waits patiently as I open my closet and reach for a pair of sweats, handing her sweatpants and a hoodie from Caltech. “Here. I’m gonna go clean up the ice cream while you change.”

“Thank you,” Amelia lays a kiss on my cheek before I can leave, and the tingling on my skin persists even when I get into the living room and clean up our ice cream bowls, putting them into the dishwasher.

I suppose that after tonight, there will be plenty of nights spent together. I won’t lie and say that sleeping in the same bed as Amelia isn’t a bit scary. I don’t know what kind of sleeper I am. Will I steal all the blankets and leave her freezing all night? Will I kick her relentlessly and leave dark bruises all over her pale skin? Will she just plainly hate sleeping with me and thus would begin the end of our relationship?

“Spencer,” Amelia’s voice rips me out of my anxious spiral, and when I turn to look at her, my breath is knocked completely out of my chest. Amelia wearing my clothes is quite a gorgeous sight, even if they’re hanging off her body and pooling around her feet. Her hair is up and her face is washed of any makeup and she just looks wildly beautiful. She pops her head into the kitchen and gives me a tired smile, maybe the millionth of the night. “Do you need help with anything?”

I shove my bowl into the dishwasher and then slam it closed, shaking my head at her. “No, I’m good. Let’s just go to bed.” I shut off the kitchen light and swing my arm around Amelia’s waist, bringing her back towards my bedroom and shutting the door behind us.

I watch with wide eyes and a stupid smile as Amelia crawls onto the bed, but right when she gets onto her knees, she pauses and looks over her shoulder at me. “Is there a side of the bed that you prefer?”

My eyes dart between Amelia and the pillows on the bed. Is there a side I prefer? I wouldn’t know. “I don’t think so. I mean, honestly, I’ve never slept in the same bed as anyone before,”

“Me either,” Amelia pouts, her eyes locked on mine as she debates which side to choose. “Well, we’re technically already on different sides of the bed.” She gestures to her place on the right side and me on the left side. I just shrug in response to her suggestion. It’s not a big deal to me whatsoever, just as long as Amelia is comfortable and she doesn’t wind up hating me after tonight.

Amelia, completely exhausted, flops onto her stomach on top of the duvet, wiggling up just a little bit further until she can rest her head on the pillow. I shut off the lights and then crawl into the bed, on my predetermined side, tugging the duvet from under Amelia so she can join me under it. And as soon as she’s under the duvet, Amelia rolls over and curls up beside me, laying her head on my chest and slinging her arm over my stomach. “Thank you for letting me stay over,” she whispers, craning her head to kiss my cheek. “Goodnight.”

The feeling of laying in a bed with another person, especially a person who I feel so strongly about, is such a warm feeling. I’m sure I’ll literally be warm soon, what with Amelia on top of me and a duvet covering my legs. But my chest feels tight and I can’t wipe off the smile on my face, no matter how hard I try. I just beam, knowing that Amelia will be beside me all night.

So I sink further into the duvet and tug Amelia as close as I possibly can, receiving a small snicker from her. But she doesn’t seem to mind the closeness since she curls into me even more and then presses another kiss to the center of my chest. Maybe she can feel my pounding heart under her lips. Her affection comforts me enough to allow me to close my eyes and force out a goodnight, drifting off to sleep with Amelia in my arms.

TAGLIST

@babybobbybones @thematthewgraygube @anepiphany @goldenalvez @reidscardigan @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @stxrryspencer @rxseinbloom @penelopecult @nastyhar @whollytaciturn @thegingerfairchild @matthewreid @shrimpyblog @garcias-batcave @anamelessfacelessnerd @gublergirls @wonderlandhatter @matthewgublerswife

(I’m pretty sure I messed up this taglist so if you weren’t tagged and you should be OR you’re tagged and you don’t want to be, then lmk and I’ll make the appropriate change)

#nikos north fic #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic

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greatsagestonemonkey · 4 years

Text

A Game of Cat and Monkey (Part 1)

So @ninja-knox-ur-sox-off, @neonross, and @purble-turble... this is mostly all your faults.

I was taking a nap a few days ago while suffering from a bad migraine, and I had a dream about the Monkie Kid Pirate AU that’s been going on for awhile here that was a sort of crossover with my mainstream pirate OC and it was... honestly too epic to not write down and throw out there, so here it is! (the first part of it, anyway.)

It was supposed to be easy, not get complicated in a matter of five minutes or less. In and out. Not in, run around, then out with a spray of musket balls in his wake.

Wukong had sent him in the Monkey King get-up to fetch an astrolabe that was supposed to be magic, or enchanted, or something. Whatever. It did something special and he was supposed to get it. And it was supposed to be easy.

Breaking into the mansion of the collector was easy enough, most everyone had gone to bed and what guards there were seemed confident that no one would dare to try to break in that they were easy to slip past.

It wasn’t until MK reached the study, where the astrolabe was supposed to be, that the evening went hard about faster than a sloop catching a good wind.

He stopped dead in his tracks only seconds after closing the large doors behind him at the sight of a silhouette against the large, double-paned windows. He was half ready to relax after going tense at seeing it, expecting it to be a decorative suit of armor, or statue, or something, but that feeling never came as the glimmer of very real, deep, sea blue eyes glinted in surprise at his presence in the moonlight.

They tensed, crouched almost at seeing him as if hoping to shrink back into the shadows unnoticed, and MK reached for the rapier on his belt, drawing it out only maybe a quarter of an inch, just in case. His eyes traveled down the figure’s form, landing and locking onto the astrolabe clutched tightly in their fingers like the claws of an oriental dragon around a pearl. Even with his mask on, he gave his best, charming smile and raised an eyebrow, knowing full well that the figure could likely see his expression with the moonlight pouring into the room.

“Don’t suppose I can just ask you to hand that over nicely, can I?” he asked.

WHOOSSSSHH-CRACK!

He barely--barely--had time to register that something long, fluid in its motion, and metal from the way it was glinting, was flying straight at his head; like a blue serpent gliding through the air at lightning speed. He leaned back instinctively to dodge, back and neck arching back at a practically impossible angle to spare him the blow. His breath caught in his throat as the long object snagged the fabric of his mask, hearing it tear very near to the arch his nose made beneath it. He whipped out his sword, using the blade to smack the object away as it continued to stretch outwards in his direction dangerously and rolled back to safety, free hand flying to his mask to check just how much of it had been torn; and sighed discreetly in relief at feeling only a slight rip in the material while his eyes followed the object as it flew back to its owner.

A whip. It was a whip! As if the sound of the crack ringing through his ears wasn’t telling enough he had to nearly get his nose snapped off by it!

“Hey!” he protested, louder than he had intended. Not that it mattered, since the sound of that whip alone was enough to wake the dead! He was still so stunned by the brazen act that he couldn’t even think of something witty and whip related to say! Nor would he have the time to after completely recovering, either.

The owner of the whip reared it back again, cracking it a second time; but not at him. At the window behind them. The odd, blue metal shattered the glass like a heavy and well aimed club swing, sending it showering over the room and the courtyard below. To anyone who hadn’t seen the action itself, it might have seemed like the window just exploded! MK held up an arm to cover himself as some of the glass showered a little too close, then watched in astonishment as the figure lept right through the now apparent gap in the window ledge. He let out a choked sound of surprise and darted to the edge to watch their fall, flinching as he heard the whip crack again, and was just able to catch sight of it catching on the limb of a tree in the courtyard below, allowing the owner to swing--with almost supernatural ease--up onto the outside wall of the mansion.

MK could only blink and continue to watch in awe as they briefly glanced back at him before disappearing over the wall and vanishing from sight.

“Um… okay then…?” he murmured to himself, taking a moment to move his hat aside just enough to scratch his head in confusion.

He only had that moment though; the sound of running footfalls in the hall outside the room he was in snapped him back into reality and sent him out the window himself. Nice of that stranger to at least give him an escape route after stealing his mark right out from under him!

Now he just had to get back to the ship.

And explain everything to Wukong and the others.

Great…

~~~

Back at the Flowerfruit, MK couldn’t help but feel like a bug under a magnifying glass when he first climbed aboard, empty handed. It was only when he was taking off the Monkey King outfit that he was able to get enough of a word in as the crew bombarded him with questions on how it went, and all that. It stung having to explain when he didn’t know quite how to explain it himself, since he was still largely processing the situation, but he did his best.

“And they used a whip!” he exclaimed, pacing back and forth in the galley as the others sat and listened, watching him walk. “But it wasn’t like a cat o’ ninetails kind of whip, it was like a legit, long whip! Made of metal!”

“A metal whip?” Wukong asked, voice sounding skeptical as he raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah!” MK snatched up his mask and held it out for the others to see. “Look what it did to my mask!”

Tang took the cloth from MK before Wukong could, adjusting his glasses and squinting at the tear with a great deal of scrutiny.

“Hm… He’s right. This is a clean cut. A rawhide whip would have left more jagged tearing,” he said, finally passing the cloth to Wukong. “It had to have been made of metal. Sharp metal.”

“Sharp and strong enough to shatter glass even…” Wukong mused, sighing as he put the mask aside and crossed his arms. “And they got the astrolabe…?”

MK frowned, gaze falling to the floor. “I’m sorry…”

A weight on his shoulder made him look up at Wukong, who shrugged and was smiling at him.

“Relax, it’s not like we’ve lost it for good,” he said. “Chances are, whoever this character is, they’re still on the island somewhere. If it was me, I sure wouldn’t risk skipping port right away. I’d lay low, wait until the heat dies down and until the local constabulary isn’t searching everyone’s person for an astrolabe.”

“Yeah, something like that sticks out way too much to just pass off as usual luggage.” Mei said with a nod. “Like who even uses those anymore…?”

“Point is, we still have a chance of getting it back.” Wukong said, hand slipping off a now smiling MK’s shoulder. “We’ll sweep the town and ask around for a pirate who uses a whip. Shouldn’t be too hard to find.”

“Yeah!” MK nodded, fists pumping towards his chest excitedly.

“In the meantime, let’s get some shut eye. It’s only a few hours until sunrise, and we’ll start our search then.”

~~~

Morning couldn’t come soon enough. He was able to get a few winks at least, but he was itching to get back out there and find this mysterious whip wielding pirate.

It was kind of fun having a new player in the game; new blood to run up against, and he was eager to test his metal against them.

Even if the first time didn’t pan out so well… but that was only because he had been caught off guard! He could do better the next time around! He would do better.

They split up around the port, some of them on their own, some in pairs, to cover more ground. There wouldn’t be much need to go to the richer, or more high end districts in town, since it wasn’t very likely that the noblemen and their ilk would pay too much attention to a seaman wearing a whip. Or to a seaman in general. Taverns and boarding houses would be their best bet.

That didn’t mean it would be easy though. Wukong had been right; soldiers were searching the outgoing ships and any passengers on them. If they weren’t careful they’d likely be recognized, but thankfully their line of questioning wouldn’t likely tie in with the theft of the astrolabe. Even so, part of him was very tempted to just ask one of the soldiers what they knew at least to make this go faster…

He kept going over the previous night in his head. From the moment he entered the study to the moment he had to jump through the window to get away.

He tried to remember everything he could about the figure he encountered; not just the whip they held. Their stance, the way they tried to shrink into the shadows like that. They obviously knew how to sneak around, if they got into the mansion, so finding them might not be all that easy. But then there were the eyes. Blue eyes. Not all that common around these parts. At least not the shade he caught a brief glimpse of. Someone would have had to notice a blue eyes, whip-toting pirate around here at some point… or at least that’s what he would think.

MK snapped out of his thoughts long enough to look up and jog over to Pigsy as he saw him round a corner ahead of him.

“Anything?” he asked, somewhat hopeful sounding.

“Nada.” Pigsy shook his head, arms crossed over his chest. “Either they haven’t seen anything period or won’t say whether or not they have.”

MK sighed. “Maybe they really did skip port already,” he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Maybe…” Pigsy said with a shrug.

A sound pierced the air that made MK practically jump. Pierced… no, cracked.

The same sound he heard last night.

Followed by a loud crash and a shout.

MK and Pigsy both turned around to see what was causing the commotion, as did a small crowd that gathered outside what looked like the back entrance to an inn. From what they could see, a large, bulky pirate had been thrown hard into a few supply crates and barrels, their contents now scattered over and around him as he laid dazed in a pile of splinters; but what caught MK’s attention completely was the sight of a long, blue, metal whip-like cord being coiled back up into the hands of its owner, and from where he was he could just barely see the same glint of sea blue eyes from last night.

“Maybe that’ll teach ya t’ keep your hands to yourself,” the voice, thick with an Irish accent, and that of a woman’s. “Especially when you’ve already been told t’ do so once, ya scut!”

She turned on her heel and marched off, kicking a broken plank out of her path, and attaching the strange weapon back to a holster on her sash-like belt as she went. Pigsy let out a whistle, which in turn snapped MK out of his state of shock.

“She’s got some gumption!” Pigsy said with a chuckle, grunting loudly in shock as MK grabbed and turned him so they were facing each other.

“Pigsy, that’s them! Her! The whip! It’s the same one! I’d swear on it!” MK blurted out, head turning rapidly between Pigsy and the direction the woman was headed off in.

Pigsy tore MK’s hands off him. “Okay, okay, I get it! So now what?”

“Uh…” MK shook his head, scratching his head a few times before looking back at the other. “You get back to the others and tell them we found her, and I’ll follow her and find out where she’s going!”

MK took off without another word, despite protest from Pigsy. He had to push through the crowd a little bit in order to follow the woman down the same road without losing her, his fear of doing so almost making him miss a deep, red gash on the chest of the poor soul who had angered her earlier. He grimaced a bit, mind flashing back to the night before and how that could have been his face… not that he was afraid of a good scar, he already had a handful of them, but still… just… Ouch.

He shook it off and continued to follow her, making sure to keep enough distance between the two of them that he could. She didn’t seem to be too concerned about being followed though, and with that whip of hers he could definitely understand why at least in some respect. Still, he couldn’t believe how easy this was turning out; and if his luck held he might be able to get the astrolabe back himself and redeem himself for last night.

She was heading for the jungle that surrounded the port town. A bit odd. There was nothing out here except… well, jungle. Maybe she had a camp out here someplace? Or was planning to meet someone out here? It didn’t really matter, either way he’d have to make sure to leave a trail for the rest of the crew to follow if they came along to try and find him. He kept the distance between himself and the pirate woman, making sure to duck behind trees and bushes large enough to hide him from her sight, snapping a few small branches in the direction they were heading; and stopping only occasionally to use his knife to leave relevant markings on a tree or two.

MK ducked behind a tree, holding his breath as she came to a sudden stop and turned back. He stayed stock still, only breathing again once he was sure he could avoid gasping from the initial startle, and only dared to peek around the tree he hid behind when he heard the foliage ahead of them rustle. He breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that her moving on meant she didn’t see him, which meant he just had to keep following--

He froze at seeing that she had disappeared entirely.

“What the…?” he looked around, even behind him, to see where she had gone. But there was no sign, nor trace, not even in the dirt where she’d been standing. The tracks just stopped! So where did she…?

Another crack that made him jump, the feeling of something tightening sharply around his ankle, followed by a sharp yank, one that sent him crashing to the ground before pulling him upwards into the air by that same ankle. He yelped aloud, unable to keep the sound from erupting from his mouth as he was hoisted into the air and left swinging like a pinata by one leg.

“Hey!” MK yelped arms flailing out around him before reaching up and attempting to free his leg from the whip coiled around it.

“I wouldn’t, if I were you.”

MK froze again temporarily when he felt cold steel stretch across his throat, letting himself fall backward enough to look at the woman; who stood, whip tight in one hand to hold him up and a blade in the other, glaring at him. MK glared back, unable to keep from making an aggravated, almost pouting sound at her.

“Seriously?! You use a metal whip and a knife?! Oh come on, that’s just cheating!” he whined.

“All’s fair when you’re a pirate, lad,” she said.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, we make our own rules, the code is more guidelines, all that stuff…” MK said with a roll of his eyes.

She let out a sigh. “How about we skip past the banter and get to the point; who are you and why are you following me?”

Shoot. MK had to think fast. Typically he had at least one of three go-to answers to a question like this… they usually worked really well on Red, but this wasn’t Red. This was someone with a blade at his throat and a crazy looking blue, metal whip around his leg, hanging him from a tree. He would have to come up with something else to save his neck… literally.

“I, uh… I-It’s nothing, really! I saw the way you handled yourself in the town back there and I… well, it was really cool! I wanted to ask if you could… you know, teach me how you… did that thing you did!” MK said, putting on as genuine a smile as he could.

“Oh really? Which thing was that?” she asked, lowering the blade only so she could crouch down and look at him at the same level. MK began to sweat. “For someone who wanted to learn a simple wrist flick, you sure were intent on not being seen back there…”

“...Okay, okay!” MK sighed, letting himself sag in the hold of the whip. “It was my friend who was watching you, he thought you were cute, but he’s pants at talking to girls so he asked me to do it for him! Happy!?”

She choked down what was undoubtedly a laugh. He wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not, but he was willing to take what he got.

“Can you let me down now? All my blood is rushing to my head!” he whined. Unbeknownst to her, he had one last trick up his sleeve, but it all relied on her letting him down, and hopefully she bought his second excuse so he could pull it.

After a pause, she spoke again, and he felt slack on his ankle. “Fine.”

“Thanks, I--” his expression of gratitude was cut off by a painful grunt as he fell to the ground beneath him with a hard thud. He rolled himself over and onto his knees as she stood back to full height, coiling up the whip again.

Go time.

“Ouch! Did you really have to just drop me!?” he asked, starting to stand, only to bite back a cry of pain and fall backwards again, this time clutching his leg where the whip had been coiled around it. “Oh come on!”

“What’s wrong?” she asked, an annoyed, but surprised tone in her voice.

MK grumbled to make it sound like he was swearing under his breath. “Your whip must have dislocated something…” he growled at her.

She sighed, rolling her eyes and reaching down to offer him a hand up, the same hand that should have been resting on her whip.

Just what he was waiting for.

MK took her hand firmly, typical of someone preparing to hoist themselves up with another’s aid, but instead he pulled as hard as he could, prankly yanking on her arm while his “injured” leg shot out forward at hers, knocking her feet out from under her. She fell with a startled cry, MK using her initial shock from the fall to twist and roll the both of them so that she was pinned beneath him; arm above her head so that she couldn’t reach for her whip again. He reached behind him and pulled out the small dagger he kept with him, intending to put it to her throat only as a means to keep her still, but to his surprise it was met with her own before he could set it in place. He’d been so focused on the whip, and just keeping her from using it again that he forgot about the knife entirely. But with how they were locked together now, it wasn’t like it was that big of a problem.

“You little sneak…!” she hissed, accent flaring with the anger in her voice.

“Easy, I don’t want to hurt you! I just want the astrolabe you stole!” MK hissed back, arm straining to hold her down as she struggled. “Hand it over and I’ll let you alone!”

“Pirate’s honor?”

“Of course!”

“Then no deal!” she growled, giving one hard, last effort shove to push him off of her. But MK was ready for it; all his training with Wukong hadn’t been for naught, after all.

He leaned back, using his weight to drag her up and off balance, still keeping his grip on her wrist so she couldn’t go for the whip. He briefly tucked the knife he held into his teeth, using the sudden momentum from their roll to flip her up and over him in a way that he had complete control of her movement. With another twist of his arm, and making sure to sweep his legs the right way, he flipped her onto her stomach, with her arm twisted behind her and him now sitting on her back. He heard her swear in what he assumed was Irish Gaelic repeatedly as he took the knife out of his teeth again.

“Phew! Good thing Wukong’s training paid off,” he said to himself, before pressing the blade to her cheek to still her as she struggled. “Look, I really don’t want to hurt you! If I did, I would have by now, so just, let me have the astrolabe and we can both just walk away without any bad feelings, alright?”

He paused as she arched her head to look at him with a skeptical look, and he felt himself blush a bit sheepishly.

“...Okay, maybe some bad feelings, but hey, give me credit, I’m trying here!” he said.

She sighed heavily and with agitation lacing her voice, letting her head flop forward slightly into the dirt and grass beneath them. “I don’t have it.”

“What?”

“I said I don’t have it!” she snapped back at him. “Do you really think I’d be dense enough to have it one me with soldiers searching almost everyone in town?!”

“Well then what did you do with it?” MK asked, pulling the blade of the knife back just enough to avoid cutting into her cheek. She grumbled under her breath and he sighed, pressing it back to her cheek with just the slightest bit more pressure. “Come on, I meant it when I said I don’t want to hurt you…”

“There’s a mile long beach south of here that’s right littered with rocky crags and tidal pools. That’s where I stashed it.”

“Hm… that’s actually pretty smart.” MK said, though he couldn’t deny the annoyance he felt. “It just means I’m gonna have to have you lead me to it yourself, rather than letting you go right away like I was hoping to.”

“So it would seem,” the woman hissed up at him.

MK sighed, briefly looking over his shoulder, half hoping someone from the crew would show up by now, thanks to the trail he left, but he couldn’t count on Pigsy finding them right away and filling them all in. He was probably on his own for now. Not that he couldn’t handle it… just so long as he kept his wits about him with this one.

“Okay, I’m going to let you up, and you’re going to lead me to the astrolabe,” he said, sheathing the knife but keeping his grip on her arm and staying on top of her. “But!” he added, using his now free hand to detach the whip from the holster on her belt. “I’m going to be keeping this with me so you can’t use it!”

With that, he got up off of her, quickly, and stepped back to let her up. He kept his hands tightly around the whip, examining it carefully and briefly as she pulled herself up onto her feet again and brushed the dirt off her vest.

It was like nothing he’d ever seen before; a light metal that felt way less durable than it probably was, segmented to allow the whip itself to stretch when swung the right way, and probably allowing it to cut all the more cleanly too. But what struck him the most was the color of the metal. It was a deep, blue-green color, veined with lighter colors that almost glowed and flashed like the surface of water under direct sunlight. He couldn’t help but whistle at the unique object before turning his attention back to the woman as she faced him, a scowl plastered onto her face.

“Look, if it makes you feel better, I’ll make sure that you get some sort of reward to compensate, alright?”

“Keep talking like that and people will think you’re too soft to be a real pirate, lad. Now are we gonna move on or do you intend to make me chat with you for the rest of the afternoon?” she asked.

“Fine.” MK said with a sigh, gesturing her forward with his free hand. “Let’s go.”

He followed her through the jungle, keeping a tight grip on the whip in hand, an eye on her, and another eye behind them as they walked. He was still making sure to leave a trail so his crew could find them, but the fact that they hadn’t yet was really making him nervous. He tried not to show it, though. He tried his best to make it look like he was doing his best to memorize their surroundings, or something, just in case she pulled any tricks.

He glanced down at the whip in his hand again curiously, then back at her, clearing his throat a bit.

“So… what crew are you from?” he asked, the extended, awkward silence making him even more nervous, so he decided to try and break it. She wasn’t cooperating though, remaining silent. “Or do you work alone? Solo pirate, or just the treasure hunter type?”

He heard her sigh and could swear by the way her head tilted back slightly that she just rolled her eyes at him. He huffed in annoyance, rolling his own eyes for a moment before propping his arms behind his head casually.

“You’re from Ireland, right?” he asked, deciding to change tactics. “I can tell from your accent. From what part?”

“...My kin originally hailed from Louth, but my grandfather was born in Galway,” she finally replied, causing MK to perk up a little.

“Ah, I’ve heard of Galway, but not Louth… where’s that?”

“Further East. It was once known as Ulster...” she said, then clicked her tongue and looked back at him. “Is there a point to these questions of yours?”

MK shrugged. “Not really… just curious,” he replied. She raised an eyebrow at him.

“You’re an odd fish, you know that?”

MK shrugged again, continuing to follow her. “And you’re not? I mean… don’t take it the wrong way but I’ve never heard of a pirate using a whip before,” he said, glancing at the whip in his hands again briefly. “And what the heck is it made of? I’ve never seen metal like this before...”

“That��s what makes it so advantageous,” she said, looking back at him with a proud smirk. “No one who knows as much as they think they do about pirates would ever see it coming.”

“Can’t really argue with that…” MK said quietly, mind flashing back to the previous night, when she first caught him off guard, then looking at her again. “But you didn’t answer my last question.”

“And I don’t intend to. It wouldn’t be professional if I gave away all my trade secrets,” she said, smirking at him again and tapping a finger to her nose.

“Fair enough… but if you won’t tell me what it’s made of, then will you at least tell me where you got it?” he asked.

She shrugged, stopping to turn and face him, eyes falling on the whip itself. “I stole it from another pirate on my first venture as one, a long, long time ago. It’s got plenty of sentimental value for me…”

MK squinted at her and clutched the whip tightly. “Oh no you don’t,” he said. “You’re not getting this back until I have the astrolabe!”

“Worth a try,” she said with a defeated sigh, starting to turn back around, when she stopped, looking beyond MK and scowling slightly.

“What?”

“Your friends found us at last, it seems,” she said.

MK tightened his grip on the whip, making sure she wouldn’t make a grab for it as he turned around to look and see for himself. It was about time that they caught up! He had this well in hand, but he sure could use the extra help if he needed it…

A shadow darted behind a tree, and another behind a large stone, a bit too slow for him to not notice them, and to not ascertain that they were not members of his crew.

But he unfortunately did know who they were.

“Down!” he whispered loudly, turning and tackling the woman to the ground as gently as he could, while still trying to keep the whip out of her reach.

“What the bloody hell do you think you’re--?!” she almost snapped aloud, if not for MK slapping his free hand over her mouth.

“Sssh!” he whispered harshly, looking over his shoulder briefly before crawling off her enough to drag her behind a tree. “Those buccaneers are no friends of mine!” he whispered again, then looked at her, letting go of her mouth. “Unless they’re yours?”

She shook her head, a surprising look of alarm crossing her features. “But if they’re not yours, then whose are they?” she asked, voice hushed now.

“It’s a long story.” MK said, swallowing. “But basically their captain is… and old “friend” of my captain’s, and they…” he paused and sighed. “They know I’m important to him… so they’re likely here for me.”

“Well, if I’d known I was being held hostage by a celebrity I would have been more polite,” she actually joked, craning her neck to peer around the tree they were hidden behind.

MK bit his lip and chewed nervously, fist clenching around the whip in his hand, also craning his neck to look around the tree and watch as what looked like nearly a dozen different shapes and shadows seemed to be lurking just a cable’s length away. It wasn’t hard to imagine what would happen if they caught up with them, and that was where his brain did that thing where he started to think up all the different scenarios that he didn’t like to think about…

Firstly, he wasn’t sure if he could trust this woman to fight by his side if they were caught. For all he knew, she was actually part of Macaque’s crew and was leading him into a trap all along… but then again she didn’t seem the type. And another thing that bothered him was that if she wasn’t part of Macaque’s crew, he would be convinced she was with him, and there would be absolutely no way he’d be able to convince Macaque to spare her or just let her go. And if she wasn’t really part of this then he didn’t want to get her involved… even if she was his only key to getting the astrolabe back.

Stupid conscience…

He shoved the whip back into her hands quietly, crouching in a way that prepared him to jump up and run in another second. He watched her eyes go wide in confusion at his action, looking at him in further confusion as he took this stance.

“What are you…?”

“Look, they’re after me, not you.” MK said, past bared teeth. “So I’ll draw them off, and you make a run for it.”

“Don’t be foolish there’s at least a dozen of them!” she whispered back, but made no move to stop him. MK shrugged with what--to her shock--appeared to be a genuine smile.

“Heh, being foolish is kind of one of my better qualities!” he said, taking off before she could protest on his behalf again.

He didn’t really think as to which direction he was running in, just so long as he was gaining as much distance as he could. He didn’t really have a plan at this point, but he knew the coast was nearby. If he could make it there he had a good chance of being able to double back towards town and either losing his pursuers in the crowds or getting the attention of his crewmates. But of course, he had to actually make it without getting caught first… Pigsy was right, he should have probably waited for the others, but there was no time to worry about that now; he had to keep moving!

A shot rang out and he heard a branch he ducked beneath snap as he ran. He bit back a yelp and changed direction, sliding down a ditch in his path before continuing to run. That was way too close for comfort! But he liked to imagine that Macaque wanted him alive for whatever reason and was now either scolding the pirate whose shot came too close or cutting him down in some way…

And then the thought of actually being taken alive by one of Wukong’s greatest enemies made his stomach lurch. As did the thought of whatever the outcome of being captured alive would eventually be! That thought alone spurred him onward, pumping him with adrenaline that gave him a burst of speed that was just enough for his pursuers to lose sight of him…

But at a cost that he realized only too late.

It wasn’t until he was tumbling off the edge of the cliff that he even realized that it was there. The fall itself wasn’t fatal, just by the distance, but he hit the rocky ground beneath hard. Hard enough for something in his bones to crack, painfully. He cried out loudly and abruptly in pain, though manage to strangle the remaining sound by slapping his hand over his mouth, body curling on itself as his free hand shot to his now--quite clearly broken--leg.

No. No, no, no, not like this!

With some difficulty and still strangling any pain filled screams that tried to escape his vocal cords, he managed to sit himself up and drag himself to the base of the cliff. Tears of agony and frustration stung the corners of his eyes as he pressed himself against the rock, looking up and praying to whatever god was listening that none of his pursuers saw or heard him fall. Especially now that he couldn’t run anymore. Not with a freshly busted leg!

He chanced a glance away from the top of the cliff above to look at the leg, grimacing a bit at seeing it twisted in a way it… really shouldn’t have been. He’d had broken bones before… but usually from stupid stuff. Stupid mistakes or antics on his part, things he could laugh about later with his friends, or even be scolded by them for, but this was different. Serious. His friends weren’t here to help him set this, or to help him limp to safety, he was on his own.

On his own with a least half a dozen pirates led by one who would probably use him to get to his friends now that he was an easy capture with this stupid, broken leg!

A shadow briefly graced the top of the cliff, vanishing before he could get a good look, or hide himself against the rock better, and he felt his heart stop.

They’d seen him.

They would be down here any second.

This was it…

MK hesitantly reached for the dagger he had with him, hands still shaking from the pain in his leg. He wasn’t going to possibly meet his maker and say he didn’t go down without a fight, even if it was going to be a brief one…

“That looks bad, lad.”

The way she had snuck up on him was so quiet he began to wonder if she wasn’t some sort of ghost. He gasped aloud, catching his breath so he didn’t scream from surprise, his own held silence further helped by her placing a hand gently over his mouth, two fingers over her own with a whisper of “shush”, to him. MK set down the dagger as she pulled her hand away, sniffling and choking back a pained sob as the woman with the whip knelt beside him.

“Wh-What… are you doing here…?” he asked, wincing as she--as tenderly as possible--examined his leg.

“Irish stubbornness,” she replied. “I wouldn’t be a good daughter of Eireann if I just let you face such odds on your own.”

MK couldn’t fight a smile and a single, happy sob that escaped him. “H-Heh… thanks…” he said.

“Don’t thank me yet,” she said, pulling one of his arms over her shoulders to help him up. “Now let’s get under some cover and take care of that leg…”

The way the high tides had beaten the shore in past years left the cliff face jagged, full of holes and crags, plenty of places to hide, if you could get to them easily. Which, without help, there was no way he could have. The woman managed to help him under a ledge that would be just enough to hide them both, laying him out flat carefully, so as not to agitate his leg further. Once he was set down as comfortably as possible, she left his side briefly to pick up some pieces of driftwood they had passed on their way there. After that, she returned to his side, sitting in front of him, hands hovering over his leg.

“I have to set this,” she said seriously. “Brace yourself.”

MK nodded, bracing himself as instructed, fists clenching at his sides and gritting his teeth together. She nodded back, carefully taking him by his injured leg, and twisting it abruptly with a “snap” that he felt shoot up his whole body. He didn’t scream, though. He didn’t make a peep. It wasn’t the first time he’d broken something, after all. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt, of course. It hurt a lot! He had to squeeze his eyes shut to fight a few tears that threatened to leak out, but he kept quiet, fists finally unclenching as the pain subsided to a more bearable level.

“You’re a brave one,” the woman said, an impressed tone to her voice as she undid the sash around her waist, tearing some of it off, which she then wrapped around his leg.

“Thought I was foolish?” MK asked, voice a bit cracked, but still managing a smile.

“Aye, that too. Still, not bad.”

MK chuckled softly as he watched her use the pieces of driftwood she’d gathered, and the torn parts of her sash to make a sturdy splint for his leg. He felt a few twinges of pain as she tightened the knots, making sure they would hold, but he was grateful that the worst was over at least. She seemed to be too as she sighed and brushed her hands together.

“There, that’ll hold for a while,” she said matter of factly.

“Thank you,” said MK, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m… sorry, about earlier. With the whole… taking you hostage, thing...”

She shrugged. “Eh, pirate’s life.” MK managed a chuckle.

“Fair enough,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “But seriously, thank you for the help… um... I don’t think I caught your name?”

“Matilda,” she said, extending her hand to him. “But my friends call me Sea Cat.”

“Xiaotian.” MK replied as he took her hand and shook it. “But my friends just call me MK.”

“Cute.” Sea Cat said with a chuckle as they released hands. MK coughed down a blush he felt coming on.

“So, um… now what? I won’t be able to run with his leg…”

“Best thing to do is to just lie low until it starts to get dark.” Sea Cat said, settling herself down opposite MK. “Easier to slip past them that way.”

“Not if they find us before then.” MK said.

“Who said anything about finding us?” Sea Cat asked with a shrug, making him tilt his head in confusion at her. “Once I’m done catching my breath, I’m headed back up the cliffs.”

“You’re just going to leave me here?” MK asked, a bit horrified.

“With that leg? Don’t insult my honor!” Sea Cat said, winking at him. “What I’m going to do is try to leave a false trail for them to follow so they don’t find this little hideaway. Once it’s clear again, I’ll come back for you and help you back into town.”

MK sighed a sigh of relief he didn’t realize he had been holding in. “Oh,” he said.

“You’ll have to stay put until I get back though. And stay quiet.”

“Don’t worry, I will. But…” MK paused as she started to get up, crawling past him carefully so as to not accidentally jossle his leg. “What if your plan doesn’t work?”

She turned back to look at him. “I’m sure you’ll think of something,” she said, giving him a smile and another wink before vanishing from sight simply by stepping round the bend. MK opened his mouth to shout after her in protest, but decided against it, instead sighing loudly and leaning against the side of the small alcove.

“Bloody Irish she-pirate…” he murmured to himself.

End of Part 1

#hope you enjoy #my writing #crossover story?#monkie kid pirate au #my OC #@purble-turble i got inspired by your design/backstory for macaque #hope that's ok #@ninja-knox-ur-sox-off #@neonross #more to come!

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