#it’s Bonnie’s most embarrassing memory | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

anika-ann · 1 year

Text

Love on the Brain - part 9

Ch9: With Friends like These

Type: MCU x Criminal Minds crossover series

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word Count: 6400

Summary: After the successful rescue mission, you must deal with the aftermath – and with some unresolved matters. But you’re not alone and that’s the best and most important part.

Series masterlist

Warnings: series includes criminal behaviour such as stalking or kidnapping; graphic violence, gun violence; (mentions of) death; allusions to dub-con; possible PTSD and flashbacks; sexual innuendos and foul language. Loads of fluff and teasing.

I’m covering my bases here to make sure - probably sounds worse than it is. If you’re interested in specific warnings for individual chapters, let me know.

A/N: divider by @firefly-graphics

"Many people will walk in and out of your life, but only true friends will leave footprints in your heart." — Eleanor Roosevelt

You startled awake with a gasp, hand flying up instinctively to your forehead; to your perfectly unharmed skull.

No blood. No holes.

Just a terrible dream; the image of a gun faded as you stared at the creamy walls of the hospital room with eyes wide open, a soft voice reaching your ears.

“Hey, you’re okay. You’re safe.”

Your head snapped to side so quick you felt dizzy, steadied by a gentle touch on your arm. Achingly familiar pair of blue eyes watched you with concern and reassurance.

Steven Grant Rogers. Perfectly unharmed as well. Just sitting by your bedside like a dutiful guard, hand grounding you with its touch instead of holding a weapon to your head and aiming straight between your eyes.

Fuck, human mind was the scariest, craziest and most confusing place on Earth.

Sighing in relief, you ran your hands down your face, wincing at the pull at your arm, the splint on your left hand rough against your skin.

Of course Steve didn’t shoot you. Of course you were fine, even when in the med bay. But Christ, the dream felt painfully real when his cold eyes stared into yours, the grip on his weapon never wavering despite your pleas.

Steve didn’t rush you, allowing you to just breathe in and out, eyes closed, palms still sticking to your jaw. His thumb stroked your shoulder in soothing periodic motions, grounding you in reality, but otherwise he simply let you process. He didn’t say a word about the few hot tears rolling down your cheeks.

It was the lack of action that had you lower your hands at last, glancing at him again, a shy smile lifting the corners of your lips as he released you.

“Hi,” you pipped up.

He mirrored your smile, a tender barely-there thing, lips pressed together tight as you clumsily wiped at your damp cheeks.

Well, this is embarrassing.

“Hi yourself,” he echoed, head cocked to side slightly. “How are you feeling? …besides awful,” he added as if he realized the cliché of his question and the obvious answer.

It was endearing and entirely Steve and you couldn’t but snort at his attempt of a joke, your smile growing for a split second before it disappeared altogether.

“Stupid. Embarrassed.”

For not seeing the stalker for what she was from the start. For your very unsmooth awakening. For the faint memories of how you completely broke down after the team incapacitated Bonnie, babbling one thing over the other and- oh Christ, Bonnie. A shiver shook your body as the image of blood flashed in front of your eyes, the cold metal caressing your neck… at the way it swiftly moved away to find a new – the original – target.

“Glad it was just my arm. And that it was not--” you. You gulped, gaze falling to the floor as you took a deep breath before facing Steve again. The pity on his face hurt, but you knew he meant well. You cleared your throat. “Sorry. Can I, uhm, can I get some water? And a tissue?”

And a hug, maybe?

“Of course.”

Ever so helpful, he handed you tissues while he undid a bottle of water, unnervingly observant of your every move. It was almost as if he waiting for a you to break down entirely, the same way you had after getting shot and you supposed you couldn’t blame him. You just fucking hated that he had seen you like that, having those moments carved into his brain forever due to his eidetic memory. Embarrassment consumed your whole being, burning hot in your gut. How pathetic you must have look back there?

There was no mistaking his concern and attempts at supportive smile, but there was something in his expression you couldn’t decipher; you couldn’t bear not recognizing it. And you most definitely could not bear wondering whether that something had anything to do with the very intense conversation you had when he had been pressing against your gunshot wound.

You tried to sound as casual as possible when you gave the half-empty bottle back and spoke again; probably failing miserably, but avoiding the elephant in the room like a champ.

“Thanks. How’s everyone?”

The unreadable emotion in his eyes only deepened, much to your dismay; but then his features softened, causing your heart to flutter.

GG was now sitting at your bedside, familiar and safe. Your best friend. And more.

“They’re fine, Sparkles,” he assured you, reaching over to envelop your hand in his own, warm ones. “Little worried. Pretty angry neither of us figured it out until it was too late.”

Little worried.

Fear. The unfamiliar emotion on his face was fear he had tried to cover. Must have been, because it was in his voice now, laced with anger indeed. You turned your hand so you could squeeze his; this time to reassure him.

“But it wasn’t. Late, I mean. Not too late.”

“The fact that you are here begs to differ,” Steve opposed, one eyebrow rising in a mock challenge, voice heavy and serious.

You shook your head, your smile turning sardonic, ugly feeling settling in your stomach.

Kyle Meyers would beg to differ. The eyes, the accusing brown eyes, had screamed at you that he had wanted to live. A hospital, let alone Avengers’ fancy med bay, would have been a blessing for him.

But not everyone was blessed; not everyone had the privilege of having a guardian angel as capable as yours was.

“No, GG. Being here proves my point. I-- in cases like this? I could say I was extremely lucky,” you explained slowly, having Steve scoff and drop your hand as he looked away.

“Really doesn’t feel like it.”

“Doesn’t change the fact it’s true,” you whispered, suddenly feeling cold.

Probably because the comforter was a little thin.

In fact, the comforter thrown over you was the most interesting thing ever. The pattern was fascinating, truly, overlapping abstract shapes in faint blue, creating a surprisingly unobtrusive ‘A’ every now and then as they aligned; you had never noticed it before. The designer must have had a field day creating bedsheets for the Avengers. And when you brushed it with your fingertips, the pattern was rising slightly above the white cloth-

“Hey…” Steve murmured, so damn softly you couldn’t but look up at him. The sheer determination on his face was a funny contrast to his voice. “You’re safe. I promise. Stiles didn’t make it, but if she had, neither of us would let her see the light of the day ever again.”

You nodded on autopilot, your mind miles away, outside your control, as it moved from nowhere to your time in captivity and to the rescue.

You tried and failed not to think about the image of the pools of blood which seemed uncomfortably sharp in your mind: one at Bonnie’s leg, non-fatal, no doubt from someone from the BAU; the fatal one by her head from either Natasha or Clint. You held no judgement; each of your old and new team had their idea of ensuring you were safe and you’d stay eternally grateful to all of them.

But with blood came the fear; intense, all-consuming fear you felt when the gun dug deep into your neck, when it twitched away from it, ready to find a different target. The target.

You gulped, the smile on your lips tasting foreign as you fought to stay in the moment. Steve’s blatant ignorance of just how problematic their rescue was and the potential price he could pay just for being there helped you. Because between fear and gratitude, there was one more feeling clawing to the surface.

“I know you wouldn’t. Thank you. Thank you for coming for me…” you said sincerely, earning a nod and soft ‘of course’ and god, you could punch or kiss that stupid of course from his mouth. “Even if you were being stupidly reckless, again.”

Steve’s eyebrows jumped, shoulders squaring.

“Hotch said it was the best angle to-“

“Oh, I know,” you interrupted him impatiently, irritation spiking. “He wanted her thrown off balance, I would have decided to do the same, I think. It was an insane risk to take on its own, but fine. Whatever. But then you what, just decided to get rid of the only defence you had out of spite or-?”

“Hey now, you know that’s not true.”

“Oh, do I? Because from where I was standing it sure looked exactly like what was happening!” you shot back, having Steve grind his teeth.

“Where you were standing,” he parroted wryly, leaning forward, red rising to his cheeks, “was in a negative distance from a gun, aimed straight at one of the largest arteries in your body and at your spine. If I could have done anything to—if I pretended to believe you, I was hoping she’d-”

You sucked in a breath sharply, incredulous, blood pressure skyrocketing.

He couldn’t be serious. He couldn’t be that much of a reckless idiot, no, not this much, that was just impossible-

He was kidding you. He must have been.

“Oh dammit, Steve! Did you seriously let your guard down and left yourself completely exposed to modified bullets meant to kill you, because you were hoping?! One second, one fucking second and she would have shot you-!“

“It wasn’t me who was in the real danger there GODDAMNIT!” he exploded, fist hitting your mattress so hard the bedframe cried silently in protest.

It hit you like a sledgehammer.

Your breath hitched, but not in fear. You were startled by the outburst, shocked, sure, but not scared. The instant guilt painting Steve’s face, among the different emotions playing on his features, told you how sorry he was to lose his nerve and scare you.

Yet he whispered a quiet apology too as you bit on your lip, his hands retreating back to his lap.

You watched him silently as he forced his clenched fists to relax; a movement deliberate and small, but it drew your eyes to the back of his hands for the first time since you had woken up and it had your mouth go dry.

His knuckles were bruised. Faint but angry red marks with the lightest touch of blue. He was freshly showered and sitting by your bedside when you woke up; for the bruising to linger so long despite the serum, he had had to beat a punching bag within an inch of his life earlier – probably tearing it in the process, again.

He must have been furious; and yet he sat there, ready to comfort you. A little outburst after you provoked him with your own was nothing to apologize for. The only thing to apologize for was him being reckless, albeit with the blessing from your former boss.

What made it worse, however, was that he had been reckless for you. His anger, his fear, the pain in his bones, his life on the line, all that was on you.

Steve was a big boy, able to do make his own choices, but it was the choices and faulty assumptions you had made that had led him to jump into danger head first again. Without a helmet, naturally, because why bother with protective gear, right? Dammit, GG.

“That’s… not entirely true,” you stated slowly, causing his head to snap to your face, ready to argue. “But I hear you. And I’m sorry. I know I should have seen it earlier, and I know you’re mad at me-“

“What? No. Sparkles, I’m not mad at you-“ he protested, but you ignored him, determined to say your piece, hating the tears stinging in your eyes again.

“And I’m mad at myself too. I was too stupid to see it for what it was, I know, but--- can I please get a hug anyway?”

His face twisted in exasperation, mouth open to say something, to oppose you, maybe to agree, maybe to finish what you had rudely interrupted, but then his shoulders sagged and he smiled a fraction; the hint of the perfect lopsided smile you loved.

“Always.”

You grinned through the welled-up tears, all troubles floating away as he leaned forward and you found yourself in his gentle arms, enclosing you in a vacuum of safety. He was uncharacteristically careful, mindful of your injuries, but his embrace was tighter than ever; you reciprocated the hug as much as you could, holding onto him like onto the lifeline he was.

Vainly trying to fully grasp the comfort he was offering from where he was still seated on the chair, you fidgeted; he released the firm grip on you until you tucked your face to the crook of his neck, allowing yourself a generous inhale. When you finally settled, he nuzzled your hair, achingly tender.

“God, Sparkles… what am I supposed to with you?” he sighed, one of his hands moving to cradle the back to your head to him, fingers gentle as they weaved their way into your hair. “You scared the hell out of me.”

That makes two of us.

“I’m sorry… and thank you.”

“For what? For being scared?” he huffed, bringing a smile to your face as the words echoed your own; and you responded just as he had.

“For being worried.”

He released a wavering breath.

The exchange, so remarkably similar to one you had before, brought you right back to the elevator, where he embraced you just as protectively, just as comfortingly and just as affectionately. Where his proximity had become too much, breaking the resolve not to give into your feelings.

Your memories of what happened after Bonnie drugged you should be hazy, but you did remember what you had said to Steve; very clearly in fact. There was no point in denying it; and you didn’t have the strength nor conviction to do so anymore either. Breathing in Steve’s cologne mingled with faint trace of sweat and something distinctively him, you nuzzled further into his neck, counted to three to gather courage and then briefly pressed your lips to his throat; tentative, but leaving no doubt you did so on purpose.

Steve’s arms tightened around you, the periodic motions of his chest ceasing for a moment, his heartbeat racing against your cheek. Then, his lips brushed against your scalp, his thumb petting the sensitive skin behind you ear.

Your heart hammered against your ribcage wild, sparkles of hope and giddiness lighting up in your brain.

This was definitely no friendly gesture; and what more, it was a seal of approval. The same approval, the same affection you had seen in his eyes, in his face, heard in his words, but had failed to decipher before; and had believed in at last, only to have your actions thwarted by an outside force… mostly by Jarvis.

But nothing was stopping you now – and you couldn’t wait another second. Not after you almost died. Not after he almost died. Not after two years of circling in his orbit, his gravity pulling you in with more and more force with each passing day.

“GG?” you muttered into the skin of his neck, having him draw back a bit, just enough to look at you, palm still cradling your jaw.

“Yeah?”

Your eyes roamed his face, the cheeks dusted with the faintest hints of pink. Alluring lips you wanted to taste for so long calling out for you, having you lick your own on instinct. The tiny motion didn’t escape his attention, his gaze flickering down before meeting yours again, pupils widening.

You weren’t sure who moved first, who leaned in; but at last, his lips were on yours, soft and careful as if you’d disappear if he pushed further just minutely.

Your head spun as his two-day stubble prickled against your sensitive skin, just as you had imagined it would; but he got your back and wouldn’t let you fall. Both of his hands now held your face firmly, yet with unmistakable tenderness.

He held you as if you were something precious, something he would never drop, but feared could slip from his fingers any minute. As if you would ever.

Your hands came to life, reaching for his bicep and shoulder, as much as the splint on your hand allowed; it must have spurred him on, because his lips parted slightly, moulding into yours with intent, drawing a small whimper of bliss. You yielded to his gentle strength, revelling in his affection, fighting to stay without oxygen just a second longer now that you got to kiss him at last.

Now that you felt like you were home.

Whether it was the serum or some sixth sense of his, he released your lips just as you needed to breath in, but he didn’t go far; his lips were a whisper from yours, exchanging a few more pecks, your smile growing with each encounter, your heart singing when his thumbs stroked your cheeks, tucked unruly strands of hair behind your ear, nose caressing yours.

Steve practically smothered you with tender affection, overwhelming your body with love and delight. When you couldn’t take it anymore, you kissed his cheek and then rested your forehead against his, both of you smiling wide and basking in the glow of each other’s presence.

“God, GG, we should have done that ages ago,” you chuckled at last, not daring to raise your voice above a whisper as not to break the magic of the moment. Steve echoed your laugh faintly.

“Yeah,” he breathed out, caressing the length of your hair, his other hand never releasing your face. “Let’s do it again?”

Your thoughts exactly; you never heard a better idea in your life.

Damn, you truly loved this man.

“Great minds…”

His lips were back, but the caution was left behind. If the first kiss wordlessly marked you as precious to him, this kiss simply marked you as his and you sank into the sentiment with gusto, breath caught in your throat as your lips parted to accommodate him, your hands pulling at his shoulders despite the echo of pain in your arm.

A small grunt of protest to your mouth, contrasting sharply with the way his body leaned to yours, a shift of weight as one strong hand sneaked under the covers, under your knees, effortlessly lifting you just enough to make space for him on the edge of the bed.

He replied to the startled sound that left your lips with a smile with a cocky edge and a delicate sweep on your tongue that made your knees weak, your heart trembling; your body instinctively pressed to the firmness of his own, now so conveniently close.

It was everything. It was everything you could ever want, a breath of his name falling from your lips when he retreated for the briefest second only for his fingers to dug into your calf, palm burning against the thin fabric covering your flesh, sending tingly heat to your abdomen. A small whimper escaped you when his thumb pressed deeper, his smile, that damn smile, GG, you little loveable shit, making you forget your first kiss happened only about a minute ago.

He kissed you as if it was his only job to turn your brain into mush, to turn your body into something completely pliant to his touch and he was excellent at it.

“Well, you guys don’t play around,” Natasha’s voice commented dryly, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin as you actually winced at the sudden intrusion, your eyes snapping open.

“Hello sailor,” Emily whistled as you licked your lips, gaze flickering to Steve who was still very much holding you ridiculously close and pressing his lips together as if he was holding back a laugh.

He didn’t look guilty one bit, which was fair; you could just keep kissing him for the rest of your life and you’d be perfectly content. But you would have been happier without the audience.

When you tried to scoot away from him, bewildered your face wasn’t on fire with how hot it suddenly felt, he only allowed you to stretch your legs, very reluctantly releasing his grip. He remained in your bed, however, taking your hand and interlacing your fingers together, not bothering to turn to the arrivals.

“I mean… we can come back later-“ Spencer said, almost shy despite the corners of his lips twitching. “We don’t want to interrupt your… your---uhm…”

Oh god, Spencer Reid, certified genius, was at loss of words because of you. This was bad.

“Smooching?” Emily suggested.

“Cannodling?” Natasha added helpfully, only to have Spence grin victoriously as he finally found the words after the longest time you had ever seen him speechless.

“…courtship display.”

“Oh my god, shush you all-“ you muttered as Steve silently snickered.

The sound was like a revelation; the spark of mischief and contentment was a confirmation.

Steve didn’t seem to mind one bit that you were walked on despite the faint colour in his cheeks whispering of a small portion of bashfulness and a wish to be left alone with you too.

Chances were that he was just as consumed by the kiss as you were, certainly, but he was a supersoldier as he loved to remind you whenever you worried about him. Which meant there was also a thick chance that he was at least distantly aware someone was coming.

What a luck it was that the group not only included Natasha, but also Emily and Hotch and, lord help you, Spence. You’d bet that if Steve hadn’t known for sure, he at least hoped your former best friend and crush would be there.

You were in love with a gentle gigantic little shit. And you adored him anyway.

You squinted at him, earning a charming smile – with the faintest apologetic edge. Oh yes, he had known.

“Well, I’m glad to see you’re feeling better,” Hotch commented matter-of-factly, not quite able to control the amused twitch of his lips.

Taking a deep breath as Steve had the decency to move back to his chair at least now when your former boss spoke – though he never let go of your hand – you nodded, eyes skimming all over the newcomers.

“Immensely. Thank you all for coming for me… and, you know, saving my life and all that jazz.”

It was easy to feel light despite the grave situation you had been in, now that you were in a circle of friends… and with Steve by your side. Here, now, the experience could barely touch you. And yet, something must have flickered in your expression, because Steve’s thumb swiped over the back of your hand, gentle and protective.

“You did good out there. You read her for long enough to hold on until we arrived and caught up instantly. You weren’t exactly a damsel in distress. You helped a lot,” Emily noted kindly, earning a smile that was somehow glued to your face ever since Steve kissed you.

“Uhm, I’m just glad it worked – that you guys worked it out.”

“It was a team effort,” Spencer shrugged, grinning from ear to ear, even as his eyes spoke of genuine relief.

“Oh, speaking of which…” Emily hummed nonchalantly, one corner of her lips lifting into a smirk. “There’s someone else who’d like to see that you’re okay.”

You frowned. The BAU team was in the room, Steve as well, even with Natasha; you assumed Clint might have already been gone back to his family even as you hadn’t had a chance to thank him yet, which left…

You grinned slyly, even if your heart felt strangely warm.

“Really? Are you trying to tell me Tony Stark was actually worried about me and came to the Avengers med bay...? Wow, I’m so honoured--- oh my god!”

You squealed, shooting up to sit the straightest possible, your mouth falling open in astonishment when the mysterious person walked in.

And then another one.

And another and then one more and yes, there were tears stinging in your eyes, which had Steve squeeze your hand and you loved, loved your GG, but holy shit you barely even cared at the moment.

“What the hell are you doing in a hospital bed, kid? I thought you were the agent, not the target!” the large man chuckled good-naturedly.

All you could do was to gape – still. “Morgan! I-- what-“

“I can’t believe neither of us visited when it’s only a three-hour train ride or a one-hour flight. Shame on us!” Garcia exclaimed, her bright blue dress with pink flowers only she could pull off lighting up the room, as did her wide smile.

“Aww, we didn’t mean to make you cry,” JJ cooed, grimacing so apologetically that you could tell she was not sorry at all, drawing a chuckle from you.

“Well did you expect, JJ?! When the whole band comes to see me even after I-” practically disappeared on you, you wanted to say as you failed to blink away your tears, but the last member of your former team didn’t give you the chance.

“-got shot? Twice the reason to fly in, kiddo, don’t you think?”

You sighed, not at all inclined to argue when you had them all here – a happy occasion.

“David Rossi. Wow. I… I cannot believe this, it’s so good to see you all.”

“Why don’t we give you guys some privacy? We could use a coffee, or a lunch, right, Steve?” Natasha asked pointedly, breaking your haze for a moment.

Steve shot the redhead a murderous glance – whether it was at the suggestion of him leaving or ratting him out, it was hard to say. You narrowed your eyes at him, too delighted at your visitors to be truly mad. And he must have sensed it, because he met your gaze, not expecting a hell fire… only a smoulder.

It was also very difficult to be mad at him when he had kissed you like that and his lips were still a little redder than usual, gloriously tempting.

“Did you sit here starving the whole time I was out?”

Steve shot Natasha a glare as if to say ‘See what you did?’ and sighed. “I was not and I was not starving-“

At that, you snorted.

“You’re saying that as if I didn’t know how much you normally eat, GG.”

He opened his mouth to protest; but a faint growl of his stomach rendered his upcoming argument useless. The others were polite enough not to mention it, but you could see a few of them holding back a smile.

And every single one of them watched your interaction with absolute glee and unabashed curiosity, which Steve promptly ignored, leaning closer to whisper only for your ears.

“You gonna be okay here?”

“As okay as I can get,” you assured him just as lowly, your smile growing. “And I promise to stay at my station as told, unlike someone.”

He glared at you for the briefest moment, unreadable; almost long enough for you to regret the jab, but then he shook his head, a smile passing his lips.

“Point taken… but remind me who walked out of the Tower alone and is now in a hospital bed?”

It was your turn to pause; you had to admit you deserved that, but you didn’t let your failure consume you as it had when you had been taken. You weren’t alone now. In fact, you had an army of friends to help you chase away gloomy thoughts.

“Point taken. Go grab a bite, GG.”

“As you wish,” he muttered, pressing a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth as a goodbye; a goodbye that almost made you want to tell him to stay.

But then your face began to burn once again as low ‘uuuh’ sounded from three of your former colleagues; Morgan, Garcia and Emily. The rest just smirked. You would swear you heard Natasha mutter ‘territorial ass’.

Why were you friends with these people again?

Steve squeezed your hand for one last time before he rose to his feet.

“It was nice meeting you. Heard a lot of great things,” he said politely as he nodded to each of the newcomers, addressing them by their name, earning a tiny squeal from Garcia when he did so.

“Likewise, Captain.”

A genuine smile curled Steve lips. “Thank you for your help, Miss Garcia. See you around, all.”

“Okay, okay, let’s just…” Natasha said as she pulled at Steve’s arm, chuckling as he exchanged a last glance with you, no doubt catching your silent thank you for making Penelope’s day. “Nice meeting y’all!”

The moment they were out of sight, you were crowded – and most of the crowd was your favourite technical analyst, who slapped your unharmed arm.

“How could you not let us know you’re dating Captain America?! If anything, I’d expect a call to brag about that!” she complained exasperatedly, her eyes shining brighter than the pink bow in her head.

“Technically, they only finally confessed their feelings about…” Reid interjected, looking at his watch pointedly, “…314 minutes ago.”

“It was very romantic and dramatic,” Emily pipped up, having Penelope’s jaw drop and JJ smirk, her arms crossing on her chest.

“And we hope to hear all about it, don’t we, Garcia?”

“Oh you betcha! All the details!”

You smiled at their antics, feeling giddy and flustered at once at the prospect of catching up with the best ladies in the world. And guys, of course, but you doubted they were as interested.

On a second thought however, Morgan was definitely one to learn as much as possible in order to gather ammo to tease you and Rossi, well, he might be a wise grown-up, but he wouldn’t turn down gossip.

And neither would you.

“Only if you feed me the juiciest gossip from the bureau,” you negotiated, earning excited nods from Garcia. “Oh and please tell me you gave a lesson to another guy who impersonated an FBI agent to get laid?”

“You got yourself a deal, sweetie.”

“A sweet one,” Morgan commented, his grin slipping momentarily, replaced by a brotherly concerned gaze. “But seriously. What the hell happened? How did you end up being kidnapped and shot when you were the one calling about the case?”

You realized they must have just flied in, if no one brought them up to speed. With a sigh, you braced yourself to explain despite your error and the unpleasant memories being the last things you wanted to talk about.

But lord bless Emily Prentiss, it took her one glance at you to understand how you felt; she took it upon herself, swiftly and lowly explaining what had happened. Spence, ever so helpful, handed you the bottle of water from the nightstand along with a cup of jello, noticing you started to fidget with unease; a ghost of cuffs swirled around your wrist as seaweed, ready to pull you under water.

You absently thanked Spence as he helped you, a careful brush of fingers here and there far from accidental, meant to ground you in the moment.

“You’re welcome, Bean,” he whispered gently, causing you to crack a smile again. “Ah, there she is.”

You smiled a little wider, shaking your head, catching the last words of Emily’s report.

“I guess I was too close to the case to see it objectively,” you added with a sigh, causing everyone’s gaze return to you.

“I’d say,” Rossi agreed and you would have felt ashamed, especially in front of him, author extraordinaire, a legend among field agents, hadn’t it been for the compassionate smile and the warmth in his chocolate-coloured eyes. “But we’ve all been there.”

We all made mistakes, he was saying, as if reminding you that he wasn’t an exception to the rule either. And this time, the mistake didn’t have fatal consequences. You smiled at him shakily, earning a wink.

“Well, I’m glad it was just your thumb and your arm,” Morgan commented, a slight furrow to his brow – a sign of worry – his arms remaining crossed on his chest.

“We all are,” JJ added. “We leave you alone for five minutes…”

“Yeah, don’t scare us like that again!” Garcia cried out, pouting – and then waving it off. “But now, let’s leave the gloom behind. Tell me about this huge dramatic love confession--- no, wait, start when the cupid’s arrow hit you for the first time.”

You chuckled, wondering what was there to even say, but Morgan beat you to it, snickering – and leaving the gloom behind indeed.

“Sounds like a euphemism to me, babygirl.”

Somehow, you were both insanely grateful and utterly horrified at the change of topic, despite warmth blooming in your chest at the thought of Steve – and the declaration you had exchanged a few minutes ago, involving mouths but not really words.

“Oooooh, they’re good at those!” Emily exclaimed, her face bright and full of mischief. “I mean…. was it when he shared his fries with you?”

Oh god-

“Get outta here,” Morgan burst out laughing, shooting Reid a pointed look. “You hear that, pretty boy?”

“Will you ever let me live that down?!” Reid cried out, voice an octave higher, gaping as Morgan once again brought up the one instance where Reid practically slapped your hand when you wanted to steal a fry from his plate. “Just so you know, when someone wants some fries, they can just order them.”

“Uh-huh-“

“But this phenomenon of stealing fries is not unusual and is more common in women, who don’t order the fries because they want to appear more attractive to a man by not eating excessively. And at the same time, they appeal to their masculine need to provide food for their partners and family-“

“See and you said it was just the papers who made a big deal out of it,” Emily interjected gently, a smirk to her lips as she watched you. “It actually was a great romantic gesture stemming from ancient male instincts…”

“Emily…” you warned her silently, only to be interrupted by Morgan.

“Oh, I think I’ve seen enough male instincts when Captain Loverboy kissed her to mark his territory before he left.”

“Not wrong there…” JJ sing-sang, having you groan and hide your face in your palms – a feat given your splinter – feeling your cheeks being set aflame with every word added to this ridiculous conversation.

You were sure poor Steve – who was definitely to be blamed for this, you hated him, you loved him – probably had his ears on fire with everyone talking about him.

“Please, you should have seen his face when Reid hugged her--- no, when he called her Bean. First time I actually saw someone physically turn green, I’m telling you.”

“Oh my god, you guys, just stop, please…” you whimpered miserably, only earning several chuckles and a tug at your sleeve.

“Aww, look at her, she’s all flustered-”

“Shut up, Morgan, I regret every time I didn’t take the chance to comment on your walk of shame-“ you muttered, annoyed… a little.

Despite all their teasing, it was difficult not to feel completely elated, because the reason this was happening was that fact you and Steve had-

“Rogers and Jones, sitting in the tree…”

“Oh, oh, Garcia, wait, he calls her Sparkles and she calls him GG-- whatever that means,” Emily stopped her, causing you to drop your hands and shoot her a betrayed glare. “So it’s more like: Sparkles and GG, sitting in a tree, K-I-”

“I’m happy to see you, guys, but I hate you all,” you announced flatly, instantly breaking character when most of them just burst out laughing.

“Oh hold on! Who’s gonna give him the if you break her heart I’ll break your nose talk?” JJ exclaimed suddenly, sounding deadly serious.

“No one!” you cried out instantly. “No one is going to break anything!”

But it was too late; the team of FBI agents, who acted like overgrown children, already started plotting.

Oh boy.

“You know I don’t exactly have the best record in hand-to-hand, but I know of at least fifteen different ways to dispose of a body without trace if-”

“Spence!” you shrieked, not expecting that from him in the slightest.

“I have no qualms about breaking his anything,” Derek announced, ignorant to your exasperation.

“Neither do I,” Emily shrugged.

“And rest assured he would never do as much as read his emails if I got my hands on him, Stark security system or not,” Garcia spoke, uncharacteristically scary. “I’d ruin him.”

“Guys, guys! Come on,” Emily shushed them, hands outstretched to get their attention. “I have no doubt we’d all shoot him dead, but who’s gonna do the honours or telling him that?”

“Hey! No one is shooting anyone! We literally just saved him-“

“Rock, paper, scissors?” Hotch suggested innocently, causing you to gape, a breathless accusation falling from your lips.

“Et tu, Brute?”

His words unleashed a stream of oooohs and hands that suddenly competed for the chance to threaten your… boyfriend, maybe? Just Steve for now? Your GG, always? Which was nice and all and you were so lucky to have them in your corner, but you had just averted one crisis and you’d rather keep Steve safe and sound. You doubted he planned to break your heart anyway – he could never.

“No one is listening to me…” you muttered, a chuckle sounding on your right.

You glanced at Rossi who didn’t participate in the mess unfolding by your bed, only watching with a proud smile.

“You know they won’t when it comes to protecting one of ours, kiddo. You’d do the same, because that’s what family does,” he said gently, looking around as some of your friends did bicker like siblings, before glancing back at you. “That’s what family’s for.”

With a sudden lump in your throat, you followed his gaze back, trailing around the crowded room: several special agents with one of the best trainings available, acting like children, paired up to play rock, paper, scissors. Sans Hotch, who might have suggested it, but would not actually go to Steve to give him a shovel talk; he appeared like a father to the crazy pack.

Looking around, you felt like family was exactly what you were. No matter the distance of two years and three-hour train ride, the BAU still was and hopefully would always remain your family.

→ Next part (epilogue)

Series masterlist // Steve Rogers masterlist // Misc masterlist

Reminder: in the masterlist to this series, there’s a list with pics and characterisation of the complete BAU team (since I swarmed you with several ‘new’ characters in this chapter)

Yeah, I totally lied, the short excerpt I shared about three weeks ago was not from a floofy one-shot, but I could NOT exactly tell it was these two idiots FINALLY kissing, could I? Sorry 🤭

Wanted this to be a chapter slash epilogue, buuut it was getting too long again and I feel like this fic deserves a sweet and short goodbye instead🥰 Epilogue to come.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, folks, thank you for your support 💗

#fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #mcu x criminal minds #criminal minds crossover #criminal minds x mcu #former bau agent reader #bau agent reader #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #captain america x you #steve rogers #spencer reid #emily prentiss #the bau family #love on the brain #anika ann

155 notes · View notes

rere-the-writer · 2 years

Text

Title: Centuries of waiting; rewrite part two

Pairing: Elijah M. x Black!Petite!Reader, Klefaroline, Kol M. x Bonnie B.

Warnings: Fluff, Protective!Elijah, Jealous!Hayley, A bit of Angst

Part one - part three - part four - part five - part six - part seven - part eight

It had been a few days since the auction and you had already fallen completely in love with Elijah and he was already in love with you. At the moment you were out with Caroline, Bonnie, Rebekah, and Freya with Hayley following along. The four women had been helping you settle in with Bonnie helping you the most. Bonnie had been helping you ease the compulsion from your mind with Camille helping you though the memories.

"So you were a ballerina?" Caroline asked smiling at you as you looked at sundresses. You had told Elijah that you used to do ballet before having to drop it to pay off your brother's debts. So Elijah with Caroline's help, the vampire brought you ballerina tutus and other things. Caroline got Stefan to convert one of the empty rooms into a dance studio for you.

"Yes. I was close to getting into the Paris Opera Ballet School but my brother....." You trailed off not needing to finish as the girls understood. Hayley rolled her eyes since finding you, Hayley was annoyed with how Elijah ignored her even more.

"Don't you have a boyfriend that you should get in contact with?" Hayley asked you seeing you flushed and suddenly shy away making the girls look at you.

"Elijah is my....first relationship. My mom was a firm believer in staying pure for your soulmate." You said feeling embarrassed even more when Hayley began to laugh.

"Wow, you are a virgin? Good luck honey trying to get far with Elijah." Hayley said not caring if you were embarrassed and Bonnie moved to comfort you.

"Hey that is pretty sweet of your mother." Caroline said smiling getting your attention and confusing you.

"Think about it! Instead of having your heart broken by some loser or asshole. Your moments with Elijah will be 10x times cuter because there is no heart break attached to them."

"Caroline is right love, besides Elijah won't care. All he sees is you." Rebekah says looping your arm with yours as you smile shyly.

You realized that they were right since all Elijah wanted was you. Elijah loved you more than anything already so you being a virgin wouldn't make him love you any less. Hayley just rolled her eyes again very much annoyed how fast the girls built you back up.

That afternoon you changed into a leotard with flowing slik skirt and you tied your ballet shoes. You turned on some classical music after stretching and you were ready to dance your stress away. You weren't aware that Elijah was watching you from the doorway. Elijah felt his heart flutter seeing the leotard hug your curves nicely, your dark hair in a loose bun. The soft glow from the lights made it seemed like your soft bronze skin was glowing. You moved with grace and Elijah found hisself fall for you even more.

"Nice to see you enjoying the room." Elijah says making you squeal and tripping over your feet. You were startled by Elijah's smooth baritone voice and the vampire caught you easily. You flushed looking up at Elijah feeling him brushing a few strands of hair from your face smiling softly.

"My apologies beloved. I didn't mean to scare you." Elijah says his tone soft but his eyes were dark, predatory leaning down moving his nose along your neck. You flushed wrapping your arms around Elijah's neck when he lifted you up.

"It is fine." You tell him feeling the vampire's breath on your collarbone it made you shiver. Elijah placed small kisses there.

"Fancy a dance partner?" Elijah asked setting you down pushing away the urge to ravish you, to claim you since you looked so tempting. You got on to point holding Elijah's hand smiling brightly up at him.

"I could use one."

You stood by Elijah as you two stood on the catwalk looking down at those who attended Klaus's ball. It was mostly vampires because Klaus wanted to draw out the Elite and of course Dominic Von Baron had showed up. Elijah had a possessive hand on your waist while his lips brushed along your neck. The Original's eyes were dark and predatory seeing Dominic look up at you both. The vampire was honestly surprised that you were still alive, let alone still standing. Dominic thought Elijah would have you locked away.

"You look just gorgeous tonight." Elijah muttered against your skin hearing your heart skip a beat and you flushed. Elijah chuckled pressing kisses on your neck before growling lowly seeing Dominic walk up to you both.

"Mr. Mikaelson, I hope you have been enjoying your little mouse." Dominic said when Elijah glared moving you behind him. Elijah growled eyes flickering to Tristan who was walking up.

"Ah Elijah and Dominic. I see had brought the human which is a shame, I was thinking of buying her myself." Tristan said before freezing hearing Elijah let out a deep growl and you were fully behind Elijah. The Original glared at the two younger vampire not liking how they were speaking about you. His soulmate, like you were some objects to be bought and sold.

"She is my soulmate, what kind of man would I be if I didn't save her?" Elijah said watching both freeze as it was news to them. Dominic swallowed staring at Elijah scared but tried not to show it.

"Now Hayley says she is your soulmate, Elijah." Tristan says seeing Elijah's eyes darken even more.

"She is not. Now if you excuse us." Elijah says gently pushing you along.

"Keep an eye on your little mouse. It would be a shame if...." Dominic didn't get to finish since Elijah had tore out his heart. Tristan watched surprised seeing Elijah wasn't his calm and collected Sire but a deadly vampire.

Elijah was more than willing to show off his power. There was a scream from when Elijah threw Dominic's body over the railing. The remaining Elite was shocked and looked up to see Elijah staring down.

"A lesson to those that threaten my soulmate. I will not hesitate to remove hearts." Elijah said his tone dangerous and eyes dark. Hayley was shocked at Elijah's behavior since this wasn't her Elijah while the siblings weren't so surprised.

"I didn't know Elijah was so willing to kill like that." Bonnie whispered as Kol smirked pulling his soulmate close watching Elijah return to your side.

"Nik may be dangerous but Elijah is the most deadliest out of all of us. Elijah is just better at hiding his monster." Kol says seeing Elijah lead you away from the party since his was now annoyed.

"We won't be seeing them until morning." Klaus said smirking as Kol laughed while Rebekah sipped her drink.

"Let's hope he doesn't knock her up before their wedding." Rebekah joked pulling laughs from her brothers and small laughs from the others. Hayley sat feeling jealousy settle in her chest, the hybrid hoped Elijah would be disappointed that you were a virgin and come back to her.

#elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikaelson x reader #rere's stories #elijah mikaelson fluff #elijah x reader #mikaelson family x reader #the originals x reader #the vampire diaries x reader #the originals imagine

193 notes · View notes

total-drama-takes-takes-2 · 7 months

Text

ttwt character profiles - batch 1

we are SO CLOSE to the grand finale of tta and celebrity manhunt is in the works. in the mean time, ive decided 2 take some inspo from the world tour biographies and write one for each contestant!

ALBERT

What's your best quality? I care about things that most people don't even bother to notice Faves? (music, colour, movie, food)

Indie

dark green

Blackfish

dragon fruit

Describe your craziest dream. I was trying to terraform the moon, but the boots I was wearing were too heavy, so I got stuck on the surface Best memory from childhood? Probably hiking the Appalachian trail with my dad Most embarrassing moment at school? I've had a lot... I guess being dumped wasn't easy. Describe the first job you ever had. I've never had a paid job, but I've been volunteering since I was 12. my first project was a post-concert trash pickup at the Scotiabank Arena Ten years from now, what are you doing? Probably the same thing I'm doing now, but for pay My dream date would be with ___________, doing what? That's a hard question. I guess anyone who likes me back, probably in one of the parks around Toronto. Talking outside is free and easy! It’s the last day on earth. In five words or less, what would you do? watch sunrise in a meadow

AUSTIN

What's your best quality? My mojo, baby! Faves? (music, colour, movie, food)

Anything swanky is fine by me!

Orange, baby. The most sensual color on the rainbow

Pretty Woman

Chocolates are a true aphrodisiac, baby

Describe your craziest dream. Craziest? All my dreams are crazy, baby! Best memory from childhood? The day I woke up with a full jungle on my chest! Most embarrassing moment at school? ...When I realized that jungle is absolutely irresistible to the birds! Describe the first job you ever had. I hung out at the metro station, passing around pamphlets about how hot I am, baby! Ten years from now, what are you doing? Sitting pretty in a first class jet on the way to the Bahamas with my 24 civil partners My dream date would be with ___________, doing what? A right shagadelic bird or two in a first class jet on the way to the Bahamas It’s the last day on earth. In five words or less, what would you do? Round up the ladies!

ASS

What's your best quality? What are you, my mom? Faves? (music, colour, movie, food)

Easy. Grunge.

Am I five years old to you?

Wouldn't you like to know?

Anything non-repulsive.

Describe your craziest dream. I used to have this nasty recurring dream about this knock-out stealing my fiance. I got over that eventually. Best memory from childhood? When I grew out of it. Most embarrassing moment at school? The fact that I ever cared for a second about what those losers think of me. Describe the first job you ever had. I was a barista for a while. Now, I think I'd rather be drawn and quartered than hear the word "venti" again. Ten years from now, what are you doing? Married rich or dead. My dream date would be with ___________, doing what? I hate people. It’s the last day on earth. In five words or less, what would you do?

Celebrate.

BONNIE

What's your best quality? I guess I can be... understanding. Faves? (music, colour, movie, food)

I mostly listen to video game OSTs... some pop, but don't tell anyone I told you that!

Purple

Texas Chainsaw Massacre

Noodles

Describe your craziest dream. Uh, I'll pass on that. Thanks. Best memory from childhood? I guess... I don't know. Christmas. I don't know. Most embarrassing moment at school? No, thanks. Describe the first job you ever had. I was an office assistant at my school. It got me out of class, at least. Ten years from now, what are you doing? Hopefully graduated from college with a good degree. It'd be fun to be a game designer or something like that, something creative. My dream date would be with ___________, doing what? I don't really think about that stuff. Whatever seems fun, I guess. It’s the last day on earth. In five words or less, what would you do?

Hang out with Caesar.

CAESAR

What's your best quality? Um, everything? Where do I start? Faves? (music, colour, movie, food)

I'm not too picky!

Lavender

I couldn't pick!

Goat cheese on rosemary crackers

Describe your craziest dream. I was stuck in a washing machine for like, six hours until someone finally let me out. Best memory from childhood? Getting my first camera. And my first tripod- it's like a light bulb just went off in my head! Most embarrassing moment at school? I tripped in the cafeteria and ruined my silk Valentino shirt on some freshman's chili. Describe the first job you ever had. I started my first YouTube channel when I was twelve. I did outfit reviews in my bedroom. Ten years from now, what are you doing? Hosting the most popular gossip show on TV! My dream date would be with ___________, doing what? Definitely my Bonbon. We'd get pedicures (if they ever let me take them), fro-yo, and then watch something gross and bloody at home. It’s the last day on earth. In five words or less, what would you do?

Probably spend it with Bonnie.

COURTNEY

What's your best quality? I'm a team player! Faves? (music, colour, movie, food)

I like fast-paced music, just in the background when I work

Hot pink

The Devil Wears Prada

Shortbread cookies

Describe your craziest dream. Crazy as in terms of reality, or personal significance? Oh, well- I guess my most "out there" dream was one I had where I was a pirate captain, sailing a crew across the Atlantic Best memory from childhood? Spending time with my friends when my parents were away. Most embarrassing moment at school? A mean girl in my grade ran for class council secretary just because I did... it was so humiliating that I dropped out of the race entirely. Describe the first job you ever had. I sometimes volunteer at the soup kitchen. Ten years from now, what are you doing? Graduated, with my dream job, living in a nice apartment in a big city, and overseeing a cooperative group of like-minded individuals. My dream date would be with ___________, doing what? Not a romantic date, but I'd love to meet my personal hero, Virginia Woolf, for a dinner. It’s the last day on earth. In five words or less, what would you do?

Cook a meal for friends

#ttwt #more to come

18 notes · View notes

tenebraevesper · 4 months

Text

Five Nights at Freddy's: Nothing Remains, Night 13: My Deeds Sent Me Too Far

''I never did go near, 'cuz I know just what I saw. Yet on a day of joy, my life ended to their flaws! Now I'm all alone, fighting monsters in the dark. I wish that I could live, but I fear I've gone too far! (…) I often do pretend, can't you see I'm broken down? I wish this were the end, but continue on I vow. Now I'm all alone, I'm still hiding in the dark. As saddened souls we roam, we can only go so far! (…) Always begging, please, yet the outcome I would dread. I've fallen to my knees, let my pride get to my head. Now I'm all alone, hearing whispers in the dark. I wander through the past, seeing memories afar. All stay strong, we live eternally! All is well in the Afton family! Lives, they fell to pure insanity! All is Hell in the Afton family!''

– Afton Family by KryFuZe (Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria Simulator)

xXxXxXx

Springtrap looked around, curious about the ongoing chaos. Freddy Fazbear's Pizza was busy as always, but they seemed to have run into an issue. A woman was currently screaming at a young employee, who was trying to clean up the pizza that was lying on the floor. He had also noticed that most people were staring at the commotion, with the woman's young daughter being incredibly embarrassed by the scene her mother was making.

''I'm just glad I'm not the one who has to deal with that banshee,'' he told Sam, who was also staring at the screaming woman. Luckily, Kylie approached her to deal with the situation. ''As much as I enjoyed being the owner, dealing with entitled people and choosing beggars was the worst part of the job. God knows how many of them tried to get something for free.''

Apparently, what happened was that the woman claimed that the server gave her the wrong pizza and demanded it to be redone. When the server attempted to take the delivered pizza away in order to remake it, the woman grabbed her, demanding she get that pizza for free, along with the redone pizza, and when the server declined, the woman flipped the plate over, causing a huge mess.

''This needs to go on Reddit,'' Sam said, enjoying her slice of pizza, which she got for a lower price thanks to her employee discount, as well as the free show. ''I'm glad that I'm the animatronic technician and that I don't have to deal with customers, because this is a nightmare.''

In the end, Kylie managed to make the woman shut up, with the security guard escorting her outside and the woman's daughter sheepishly following her furious mother. Sam felt sorry for her, as nobody deserved to live with a person like that woman.

''It seems as if Anthelm isn't really the kind of person who'll bend over backwards to please a customer,'' Springtrap said. ''It's certainly an upgrade from the kind of management that I have seen.''

''Do you think that it is possible that Freddy's, for once, has a competent manager?'' Sam asked him.

''I think we'll have to wait for a while longer before anything can be confirmed. I mean, it's just been a few days since Freddy's has opened,'' Springtrap told her. Sam nodded, noticing that the server had cleaned the mess up and everyone carried on with their usual activities. ''Speaking of which, I do hope that Anthelm will shed some light on the animatronic programming.''

''If it turns out that they're not malfunctioning at all, there is nothing we can really do about the animatronics lashing out at people,'' Sam said.

''Not to mention, if they are indeed as self-aware as we suspected, they won't be just following their programming, but also act on their own,'' Springtrap added, glancing at the stage, where Freddy, Bonnie and Chica were performing. ''I think it'll be rather interesting to see what is actually going on here.''

''You know, I am a little curious about what is going on at Ricky's Wonder Shack,'' Sam told him. ''I mean, they have competition now.''

''I don't think that they are going to be worried that much,'' Springtrap replied. ''After all, Freddy's is still known for it's dark past and, despite having customers, it's not as if people are going to forget so easily what had happened.''

''True,'' Sam said, noticing a faint gleam of purple in Springtrap's eyes. ''Although, considering what Connor had done… I don't think people will forget that either, especially since it's more recent.''

Springtrap sighed, leaning back and crossing his arms.

''Speaking of which, there doesn't seem to be a sign of Connor, the Drawkills or even Raven,'' he said.

''Who knows what's going on with them,'' Sam replied. ''Honestly, I do hope that we won't have to deal with Connor again, but if he's still around, he will probably make himself known in a rather horrifying manner.''

''That's undeniable,'' Springtrap said, frowning. ''However, if he does appear, I'll make sure that he won't last long.''

''There's no doubt about that,'' Sam said, playing with the straw in her soda. ''Just don't do anything rash.''

''Well, you know me,'' Springtrap replied in an assuring tone. ''Something stupid is bound to happen whenever I get involved.''

Sam almost choked on her soda as she started laughing, with Springtrap observing her with an amused look on his expression.

''Yeah, that's true,'' she replied. ''Nevertheless, even with all the additional stress and trouble we have to deal with, I still feel happy having you here and being part of this mess. I know that I'm doing something to improve the situation and that I'm also helping you.''

''Not that I deserve that help,'' Springtrap muttered, his ears lowering slightly as he frowned, staring at the table.

''I know that those who know you would agree that you don't deserve any help, but that doesn't mean that I wouldn't offer you any if I believe that it's necessary,'' she told him, giving him a determined look. ''So, don't worry about it.''

Springtrap just observed her in silence. Even though they had talked about it already, it still felt strange to have so much support. Nevertheless, he was glad to have someone supporting him, as he knew that things would've ended differently if he was once again on his own.

xXx

''So, is there anything?'' Springtrap asked Sam as she checked her e-mails. The two were in the main area, sitting at their usual spot in a booth near the stage. Springtrap did cast a few suspicious glances towards the animatronics on the stage and the prize corner, but none of the animatronics moved or did anything to show any self-awareness. He felt a little unnerved about it.

''Here it is,'' Sam said as she found Kylie's most recent e-mail. She opened the file and played the voicemail.

''Hello? Hello? First of all, I would like to thank you for your work. I have read your report and I have to admit that I haven't thought that there might be an issue with the programming itself or, as you suggested, that there might be nothing wrong with the programming at all. I decided to act upon your request and gather all the documentation about the animatronics. I have left everything I had found in my office. Once you are done reading the documents, I would like you to leave them in the drawer in my desk, please.''

Sam paused the voicemail, glancing at Springtrap. ''We should go get those files before we continue with the voicemail.''

''I'll get them,'' Springtrap said, then hurried down towards Kylie's office. He saw the documents placed neatly on the desk, grabbing all of them and briefly glanced at the pages. So far, everything seemed to be fine, but he knew that he and Sam would analyze those documents in detail in order to figure out what's going in with the animatronics. He returned back to Sam, placing the documents on the table.

''You know, even if we have the documentation, it doesn't mean that it would help us figure out what's going on,'' Sam told him.

''It's worth a try, though,'' Springtrap replied. Sam then played the rest of the voicemail.

''In the case that it turns out that the animatronics were only following their programming, rather than malfunctioning, I doubt that there is much that can be done. It is obvious that our previous technicians were not suited for this job, as the animatronics had recognized them as a danger to other people and themselves. It is rather surprising, considering how the animatronics haven't acted out during the day nor did they lash out at any of our customers, no matter how annoying they were.''

Sam and Springtrap exchanged glances, both grinning as they remembered the woman who threw a temper tantrum over her food. There was a brief pause, as if Kylie thought about what she just said.

''Well, respect is to be earned, isn't it? If you act like an unpleasant person, you will be also treated like that, right? So, moving on, as I said, if your theory is correct, nothing can really be done about it except for closely monitoring the animatronics. As for your duties, you will continue with your night shift, but I'm planning on eventually giving you the day shift, especially in case that something happens. You seem to understand those animatronics much better than I do, so I trust you to keep up with your investigation. Please, if possible, make sure that the animatronics won't lash out at anyone. I know that you are aware of what happened in the past, thanks to neglect and animatronic malfunction, and it would be great if we manage to avoid an accident at this location. If things go well, we might expect some new additions, but that is still up to debate as nothing had been settled down. In any case, I wish you a good night and I hope that this situation can be solved.''

''Honestly, I'm curious what she meant when she mentioned 'new additions','' Sam said.

''I assume that Fazbear Entertainment is planning something and that's why they want this restaurant to succeed,'' Springtrap replied. ''I'm not sure how to feel about that, though.''

''Well, there's no doubt that we'll probably find out soon what they're planning to do,'' Sam told him, reaching for the documents. ''Anyways, let's try to figure out what's wrong with the animatronics.''

Springtrap nodded and reached for a different file. It seemed like each animatronic had their own file with documentation and blueprints that covered the information about the character, endoskeleton, programming and other trivial information. He had grabbed Freddy Fazbear's file, noticing that these animatronics were known as the Showtime Animatronics and were also referred to as the New Generation.

I assume that they gave them the name based on the phrase 'It's showtime!', Springtrap thought as he continued reading Freddy's file. There was a brief description of the animatronic's character, followed by information about the endoskeleton, which wasn't really anything new to him, as he had already examined the animatronics' endoskeletons. However, it was the page that covered the animatronic's programming that interested him the most.

''So, it seems that the animatronics are programmed to entertain and interact with people, as well as having a recognition system and the ability to act independently in the case of an accident,'' Sam said as she read Bonnie's file. ''Well, so far, it is consistent with what we know, but I feel that that's not everything. I mean, there's no way that Puppet should get that aggressive when she saw my scars.''

''Yeah, and I think I have found what we're searching for,'' Springtrap told her, pointing at what seemed to be more of a footnote than an article about the animatronics. ''It should be noted that some of the coding had been taken from an already pre-existing source in order to make the animatronics more authentic and their behavior closer to their predecessors. Fazbear Entertainment is not responsible for any unpredictable action committed by the animatronics.''

''I'm not surprised that they put that disclaimer,'' Sam said in a deadpan tone, frowning. ''However, I am curious about what this pre-existing source is and why they would want to make the behavior of the animatronics similar to their predecessors.''

''I have a few theories concerning the latter,'' Springtrap said, reaching for Foxy's file and checking it. ''It is possible that they want to show that the animatronics are completely harmless, even if they act similarly to their predecessors. However, they decided to also cover themselves by claiming not to be responsible for any strange behavior the animatronics might exhibit.''

''So, it's business as usual,'' Sam said in a sarcastic tone, reaching for her smartphone. She then opened the camera app and took Freddy's file, starting to take photos of the documents, while Springtrap checked Chica and Puppet's files. All of them had the same footnote about the coding and disclaimer about animatronics.

''As for the source, I'm not sure,'' Springtrap added, shaking his head. ''The animatronics are not possessed, but nevertheless, Fazbear Entertainment might have found a way to make them act similarly to the animatronics that used to be possessed.''

''Honestly, I don't like how this sounds,'' Sam told him.

xXx

Static flickered before Connor's eyes, his vision clearing as he looked around the room he was standing in. It seemed as if everything worked the way he had planned it. Not only did the camera he used to monitor Ricky and The Misfits work, he could also control them remotely.

''Excellent,'' he muttered, feeling rather satisfied. However, the feeling of satisfaction vanished soon as he thought about his situation. He needed to continue with his plan if he wanted to stay here. It was extremely important to him to solve this issue as he was aware that his time was running out. Who knew how much longer he'd be able to stay here. After all, he may be haunting that suit, but no one told him about the specifics. What if something goes wrong?

He was annoyed, leaving the room and going towards the room Raven was trapped inside. The animatronic didn't say anything as he saw Connor entering the room, simply glaring at the latter. Connor didn't really care about what Raven thought of him and was more concerned with what Raven could do for him.

''I thought that you might feel lonely, considering how you're trapped here,'' Connor told Raven, who gave him a hate-filled look. ''What? Is there anything you want to tell me?''

''There are several things I would like to tell you,'' Raven replied in a sarcastic tone. ''Unfortunately, I am a family-friendly animatronic.''

Connor scoffed.

''You should be careful with what you say,'' he told Raven, reaching for the metal spike in his chest, gripping it tightly. Raven stared at the spike, knowing that moving it would damage his endoskeleton and wires vital for keeping him functional. Connor grinned. ''Anyways, now that I have all of your attention, I have a few questions for you.''

''Seriously, I have no idea what you want me to tell you. I don't know where-'' Raven's vision was covered by static as Connor moved the spike, almost ripping out several wires.

''That's not what I'm interested in,'' Connor replied coldly, fixing the damage. Raven's vision returned to normal, his eyes glowing as he glared at Connor. The latter just gave him an impassive look. ''I know now that you aren't Bran, but that doesn't mean that I'm not interested in your experience as an animatronic. As a matter of fact, you might be the next best person I can discuss this topic with.''

''What do you want to know?'' Raven asked in an annoyed tone, frustrated that he couldn't punch Connor in his rotten face.

''How did Bran leave?'' Connor asked. ''Why didn't his soul stay attached to the animatronic?''

''How am I supposed to know that?'' Raven replied, only to groan in pain when Connor moved the spike again, his vision filling with static.

''You should know as you went through it,'' Connor replied, his animatronic eyes flaring up.

''All I know is that Bran hated you, so him escaping this Hell was a blessing,'' Raven replied. ''You, on the other hand, will end up in your own Hell.''

He yelled in pain as Connor twisted the spike, tearing through some of the wires. His vision had turned black and he was twitching uncontrollably.

''I have warned you, you pathetic piece of scrap metal,'' Connor told him coldly, observing Raven, who looked like he was in agony. He then fixed the wires, knowing that he couldn't talk to Raven like this. ''So, have you changed your mind?''

''You're insane!'' Raven yelled at him. Connor frowned.

''You really don't know when to shut up,'' Connor told him. ''Should I show you what happens when you anger me again?''

Raven kept silent this time. However, he didn't answer Connor's question either. He knew that Connor would destroy him once he has no use for him and he didn't really care about that. His only regret was that he might be destroyed before he could destroy Connor. However, there was something that interested him and he hoped that Connor might provide him some insight into the matter.

''What exactly are you planning to do? Why do you want to know about Bran's experience as an animatronic? Is it because you're worried about what might happen to your own soul?'' Raven asked.

Connor gave him a strange look, then started laughing. Raven felt as if Connor was starting to lose his mind, having already feared that this might happen. Souls eventually go insane from staying bound too long to their artificial body and he knew that Connor was no different. Then, the laughter suddenly stopped, with Raven feeling an icy sensation spreading through his entire endoskeleton. Connor's eyes started to glow, giving Raven a cold look of tranquil fury.

''I need this,'' he whispered. ''I need to live on, and I'm going to do anything to stay here. My soul is going to stay attached to this suit no matter what happens!''

Raven shuddered. He was aware that Connor was far from the calculating technician he used to know, especially now that he didn't have to pretend to be a normal civilian in order to mask his true intentions. There was another question on his mind, but he was too afraid to ask it, already having an idea what the answer might be. However, it seemed as if Connor was already aware of that.

''You know, it's all about survival, and in order to survive, you have to murder,'' Connor told him. ''Considering Freddy's blood-filled past, isn't it obvious what I have to do to stay here? As long as I have victims, I will live on and my soul will stay attached to this suit.''

''You're a sick, disgusting crazy bastard!'' Raven growled. ''How did you even come to such insane conclusion that you need to kill more people in order for your soul to stay attached to the suit?! You have absolutely no idea what you're doing!''

''Trust me, I do,'' Connor replied, scoffing. ''But, you should better hope that Afton will eventually appear. Everything could be settled nicely, you know.''

''I don't believe you,'' Raven said. Connor didn't answer, simply staring back at the animatronic and grinning.

''You're smarter than you appear to be,'' he said. ''Too bad it won't save you or anyone you care about.''

xXx

A haunting, somber melody was playing on loop, this being Lost In The Manor, dark lullaby music by the Fiechters. Sam felt that it got rather quiet and wanted another lullaby or music box-style song to play over Puppet's My Grandfather's Clock while she and Springtrap were looking over the papers as they placed them back into the files.

''So, what do you think about the issue?'' Spingtrap asked her as he handed her Puppet's file over.

''I guess that we will have to wait and observe,'' Sam replied, glancing at the stage with the animatronics. ''They haven't really done anything so, unless they make a move and become threatening, there isn't much that can be done.'' She then turned to Springtrap, tilting her head. ''What do you think?''

''I agree with you,'' Springtrap told her. ''We'll have to wait and see how this situation is going to turn out.''

Sam nodded and got up, taking the files back to Kylie's office. Springtrap also got up, walking over to the stage and observing the animatronics. He knew that this issue wasn't something that could be solved easily. If anything, it would probably take for Fazbear Entertainment to cease to exist for everything to finally stop. Springtrap sighed, closing his eyes.

It's just wishful thinking…

As he opened his eyes, he realized that the animatronics were gone. Stunned, he stared at the stage, only to notice that the wood on the stage looked much older and worn. The decorations were different as well. Realizing that something was wrong, he looked around, noticing that the place had an eerie resemblance to the '90s Freddy's location. He glanced down, realizing that the animatronic suit was completely gone and he was a human again. Curious, he wondered if Henry wanted to talk to him, although he was somewhat confused why this location was Freddy's and not Fredbear's.

He then heard steps behind him and turned around. To his shock, he was confronted by a familiar young man who had an uncanny resemblance to him, dressed in worn jeans and a purple T-shirt. His arms were crossed and he glared at William impatiently. The latter was still stunned, no realizing that he was probably supposed to say something to his eldest son.

''Michael…'' William muttered.

''Hello, father,'' Michael replied in a surprisingly calm tone. William felt the chills creeping up his spine, but he wasn't sure why he felt like that. If anything, at least it was what made him snap out of his shocked state.

''I-'' As much as William feared and was hoping for this conversation to happen, he never really thought about what he should tell his son, but he had figured that simply being honest would be the best approach. If anything, it worked when he was talking to Sam. ''Well, it's… It's nice to see you…''

He suddenly realized that this was the wrong thing to say, as the last time he had seen Michael, he tried to murder him. He felt quite awkward.

''I can't say that I feel the same,'' Michael replied. William just nodded, knowing that this was going to be a long night. He sighed.

''I know, and I understand why you hate me,'' he said, his head lowered. He couldn't look Michael in the eyes. However, he wasn't going to waste this opportunity. ''What I had done… I just want to tell you that I'm sorry for everything.''

There was no response. William looked up, noticing that Michael was still glaring at him.

''Is that it?'' Michael asked in a cold tone. ''Is that all what you are going to tell me?''

William gave him a confused look at first, only to realize that it wasn't enough, that a simple apology wasn't going to cut it. However, he had also admitted that he wasn't expecting any forgiveness and he was ready for whatever Michael was going to tell him. It's not as if he had anything to lose, as he had already lost his family and he had no one else but himself to blame. He kept quiet.

''You know, the one thing I had promised to myself was that I was going to come find you,'' Michael said in a cold tone. ''I was supposed to be dead, but I wasn't. I've been living the shadows for quite long, always repeating to myself: I'm going to come find you. In the end, I did. I went along with Henry's plan as I had nothing else left. I thought it would be over, but apparently, I was wrong.''

William felt an icy sensation spreading through his chest as he remembered their encounter at the location Henry had created. He may not have cared about Michael then, but now, he hated the fact that he put his son into that situation.

''To be honest, I didn't expect this to happen at all,'' William quickly replied, even though he was aware that he probably should keep quiet.

''Yeah, I know,'' Michael replied, glaring at his father. ''However, unlike last time, I never wanted to search for you again. I had figured that whatever I would tell you wouldn't penetrate that thick skull of yours and that you would remain the arrogant insane idiot you always were. Honestly, I don't know whether it's worse that you were so self-absorbed and stupidly oblivious to the pain of other people or the fact that you just did not give a damn to think about anyone else but yourself!''

William kept quiet, staring at Michael with an uneasy look on his expression. He knew that Michael was right about everything and he figured that he should just let his son talk, or rather, rant, as he had no excuse to defend himself.

''I should've known how much of an awful person and abusive father you were, especially after you neglected me and Sammy, not to mention all that gaslighting after he had died,'' Michael added, his voice filled with rage. ''Say, have you really planned for me to end up as a walking meat suit for a deranged animatronic hybrid?''

''N-No-'' William shook his head, completely stunned. He honestly had no idea that Circus Baby and the other Funtime Animatronics would go that far. Michael had a look of doubt on his expression, clearly not believing him.

''Regardless of that, you cannot deny that you didn't try to murder me in some way,'' he said, with William having to admit that this was the truth, considering his actions as Scraptrap, and just nodded silently. He glanced at Michael, noticing that the latter looked furious, but seemed to be aware that this would be William's answer.

''May I ask you something?'' William asked in a quiet tone.

''What?'' Michael frowned.

''You made it clear that you didn't want to talk to me anymore and that you were done with everything,'' William said. ''Why did you decide to return?''

xXx

Sam was leaned against the wall, eavesdropping on the conversation between William and Michael. After having placed the files the table in Kylie's office, she walked back to the main area, only for her to realize that her surroundings have suddenly changed. Once she figured out what happened, she decided to wait in the hallway and not interrupt the conversation, as this was a matter between the two. She didn't really feel sorry for William, as Michael was rightfully upset, but she had to wonder how long this conversation would last.

''Why did you decide to return?''

There was silence inside the room, with Sam being curious about Michael's reply.

''Mike sounds really angry at Daddy.'' Stunned and confused, Sam quickly turned around, only to see a little boy and a little girl stare at her. The boy seemed to be rather shy, looking as if he was crying recently, and was tugging at the edge of his black and white stripped T-shirt. The girl was wearing a pink blouse and a blue skirt, with a dark red bow tied in her light auburn hair. Unlike her brother, she had a wide, mischievous grin on her expression, being the one who spoke to Sam.

''I assume you guys are Sammy and Elizabeth,'' Sam said, with the two nodding. ''I'm Samantha Blackburn, but you can call me Sam.''

''We know who you are,'' Elizabeth told her in a rather blunt fashion, with Sam wondering how much influence her experience as Circus Baby and Scrap Baby actually had on her. Sammy just nodded, still quiet and looking rather anxious.

''No offense, but I had expected that only Michael would appear. What are you two doing here?'' Sam asked the two.

''We wanted to tag along,'' Elizabeth replied, with Sammy looking rather uncertain. It seemed more that he was dragged here by his sister. Sam then turned to the entrance, hearing the conversation in the main area resume. She, Elizabeth and Sammy peeked into the room, noticing Michael looking rather tired, but still staring at William with a resolute look on his expression.

''You were the one who wanted to see us,'' Michael said, with William remaining quiet. ''I had contemplated whether this would be a good idea or not, but in the end, I figured that it may be worth a try.''

''You did hear me…'' William muttered, with Michael nodding.

''Michael, you've done well,'' he repeated what his father had told him. ''You're much better person than I am, and I do hope you have finally found the peace you deserved.''

''I'm sorry I couldn't be a better father…'' William said, his voice filled with regret. There was a moment of silence and it seemed as if Michael wanted to start another rant, but he didn't.

''Nothing what you say is going to fix this,'' Michael said in a quiet tone.

''I know,'' William replied. ''I am not asking for forgiveness either. However, I am still glad that I got to talk to you at least once again, even if the conversation amounted to this.''

Michael remained quiet, with Sam figuring that this was her cue to walk out. It didn't help that Elizabeth was rocking back and forth, seemingly impatient to also talk to her father. Sammy, on the other hand, didn't seem to be keen on talking to William.

''Hey-'' Sam cut herself off as she walked into the room due to Elizabeth suddenly running past her and towards Michael, with Sammy following her. William looked rather shock to see his youngest son and his daughter, clearly not expecting that the two would also be here. Michael, on the other hand, looked a bit annoyed when he saw the two.

''I told you guys to stay behind,'' he said.

''We got bored,'' Elizabeth replied, with Sammy shaking his head.

''Lizzy dragged me over here,'' he said, with Elizabeth giving him an annoyed look. Michael just sighed and glanced at Sam, who shrugged. Elizabeth then turned to William, giving him a rather self-satisfied look.

''Hi, Daddy,'' she said. ''I also heard what you said and I'm not suffering anymore. However, I agree with Mike that you were really mean and ignorant. You should have been nicer to us and other people, Daddy.''

There was a moment of silence, with William staring at Elizabeth in surprise, having never heard her speak to him like this, with Elizabeth looking rather proud of herself. Sam was rather impressed, figuring that, while Circus Baby's influence remained, Elizabeth was certainly doing better now that she wasn't part of the animatronic. William just smiled.

''I know, and I'm really sorry for the way I have treated you, Lizzy,'' he told her. Elizabeth just shook her head.

''As Mike said, nothing what you say is going to fix this,'' she added, with William being stunned for a moment. He then nodded in acknowledgement, with a look of regret on his expression.

''Um, Sam…'' Sam turned around, noticing the young boy staring at her with a look of guilt on his expression. ''I'm- I'm sorry for giving you nightmares and hallucinations. I didn't mean to…''

''Sammy, don't worry,'' Sam told him. ''I'm not angry at you or anything, although I am curious about how that had actually happened.''

''Well, I wanted to confront Dad, but I suddenly panicked and Mr. Emily then appeared,'' Sammy told her, his head lowered as he stared at the ground. ''I decided to stay in your room and think about it, and the more I did, the more afraid I got. I broke down and I accidentally caused you those nightmares due to my own fears. It wasn't my intention.''

''As I said, you don't have to worry about it,'' Sam told him in a comforting tone. ''After all, I'm fine and I managed to handle the situation.''

Sammy looked up at her, this time smiling in relief. ''I know how it feels to have nightmares and, while I don't have any bad dreams anymore, I really didn't want to put you through that.''

Upon hearing this, Michael's eyes narrowed and he titled his head, staring at his younger brother with a questioning look on his expression. William, Sam and Elizabeth noticed that, with Elizabeth tugging at his T-shirt and giving him an annoyed look in order to keep him quiet, as he wasn't really in the position to complain about having nightmares. Sammy, on the other hand, didn't notice any of this exchange, looking rather happy and satisfied.

Sammy, Michael and Elizabeth then turned to William, who felt a little uneasy, not really sure how to deal with this situation. He was actually really happy to see his children again, even though it was clear that they still hated him for what he had done. He glanced at Sam, who gave him an assuring look. He then turned to his children.

''I know that my deeds sent me too far and I sincerely apologize for what I had done,'' he told them. ''I am aware that words alone cannot change the past and I am not expecting anything from you. As I said, I'm really glad that I got to see you again and that I could tell you this, even if you don't forgive me. If you want to talk or even just yell at me for being a bad father, I will be here to hear you out. That is, if you're still willing to visit me.''

''We'll see,'' Michael said, sounding irked, with Elizabeth and Sammy agreeing with their older brother. William had a look of defeat on his expression, while Sam seemed to be rather curious and felt a bit more optimistic than William did.

I sincerely doubt that this conversation is over. Whether William is going to mend his relationship with his children depends entirely on him and Michael, Sammy and Elizabeth.

Links:

#Previous Chapter

#Current Chapter

#Next Chapter

#Five Nights at Freddy's: The Untold Story (Masterlist)

#Five Nights at Freddy's: The Untold Story #Five Nights at Freddy's: Nothing Remains #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #william afton #springtrap #showtime animatronics #raven #michael afton #mike afton #elizabeth afton #sammy afton #afton family #crying child

8 notes · View notes

factual-fantasy · 2 years

Text

20 asks with a liiiiitle bit of FNAF lore/hints 😂

So with Bonnie, yeah a lot of his memory leading up to his “accident” has been lost. Presumably due to damage taken to his head. Id say he lost about 2 weeks worth of memory? which is why he doesn’t remember Monty getting damaged or the details of his own accident.. but he does remember Foxy getting banned and how business suffered because of it.

As for Vanny and if she plays a role? And what Bonnie’s “accident” and Foxy’s “incident” actually was? Well, I’d love to tell ya,, but that’d spoil the story! 😅 But don’t worry, there is an explanation for this. For once I actually thought ahead and filled in a lot of the story! Which is why I’m so excited to jump into my next comic XD

@wackigremlinchild Ooooo that’s a good question.

I mean.. aaaa I dunno! I like drawing different aspects of different characters. I like drawing DJMM’s big arms and hands, but I also like drawing Freddy’s face and Monty’s tail.. hmm, but drawing Bonnie’s legs is fun too..

I’d say at the moment.? Maybe overall I like drawing Bonnie. Drawing all the squiggly wires poking out and getting creative with his hand gestures and poses considering he’s missing most of his limbs--

I’d say he’s probably my favorite :}}

@nervousdiplomatpalacehorse

@girlsareprettyneat Thank you! And honestly his tail was fun to draw XD I payed attention to where it was posed from panel to panel so I could make it look like it was shifting from side to side as he talked. My favorite tail shift thing though was the last four panels.. 🥺

Tenk q :}}}

@emotionalmasochiststephi ASKALLASKLASKLKSKSK THANK YOUUUU

(As for the question, nah, I don’t have an AO3 😅 all of my fanfics are posted on my side blog factuals-fanfics which I wouldn’t recommend reading cuz they’re old and embarrassing--)

Thank you so much!! But sadly no, I do not do commissions 😅..

(Post in question)

That picture was half a joke but also half hinting at a potential future comic.

The joke was supposed to be “a spider is scared of a spider haha”. But in reality yeah DJ would be kind’a spooked by it for the same reason why Humans are afraid of spiders. Its a tiny little skittering thing with a lot of legs. Just ehk-- creepy get it away--

But its not like he doesn’t know what it is. He knows that its one of the display music man toys. He may not have ever seen one in person, due to not being physically able to leave the Arcade.. But Moony has been all over the pizzaplex and has definitely told him about all the things displayed in Rock Star row. One of which, being the music man display toys--

Aw, I appreciate wanting to draw something for me.. But I’m just not a fan of fanart.. Sorry bud, but its gotta be a no,,, <:///

Thank you!! And yeah I’ve heard of that! Its called Chomping with Chomper, I saw Mat Pat play it on GTLive!

Thank you! And SAMMME!!

I mean, I’ve heard all the theories and what not. And you know? They’re probably true. Monty probably did do all that in cannon.

But I just.. didn’t want Monty to be the bad guy. I like Monty, and I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt and create a story where he is truly innocent. Despite all the rumors and theories people have about him

I wanted him and the other animatronics to all be the victims in this huge mess that ultimately humans are responsible for.

@toonsforkicks22 Thank you! And don’t worry bud, just keep at it. As I always say sometimes, “You cant go backwards in developing your art skills”

I have not, and for one specific reason. Transformers Animated fans are gonna hate me for this 😅 ---

So a while back I watched all of the bayverse transformers movies and thought “Yo, these are awesome! I should totally watch a transformers show!” So I went online and looked up all the transformers shows and one I found was Transformers Animated.

But here’s the thing, I knew that it was kind’a popular.? Like I’ve seen a lot of fanart of it so I thought it would be a good one to watch.. but MAN I could NOT get over that art style.

I REAAAALLLY didn’t like the art style of the show. I didn’t like the way the characters were shaped. Optimus’s legs, Ratchet’s beer belly and booty shorts- Bumble bees entire head and the Optimus’s LIPS--

Anyway. So judging a book by its cover I tossed the show aside and watched Transformers Prime instead because I liked the art style of that one more... ;- -

Thank you!! I really wanted to try and make DJMM a more expressive character and give him more depth. Considering that the game doesn’t give you a lot to go off of.. so I’m glad I seemed to do well! :}}

Sorry Anon, yeah Refinedtale fanart is not something I’d be comfortable with. <:/

I’m imagining you telling a pal about my blog and they ask to see it, in which you send a link to my blog. If that’s the case I don’t see the problem with it? XD

I can’t really think of any other scenarios in where sharing a direct link to my blog would be an issue..?

@siyuki1234 Daww, thanks! I’m glad you like em :}}}

@mayainsel There is a story to that, but don’t worry its not dark or anything 😅

When I was first designing my Sona I thought the head looked cool but the rest of the body was kind’a plain.. so I wanted to add something.

At the time my hands were covered in band-aids due to excessive hand washing and cat scratches, XD So I thought “Hey! Bandaged hands would look cool!” So I gave my Sona bandaged hands and just called em “artist hands”

@nunyabusiness459 I’m not really sure what inspired me to make Bibi look the way he does.. although I’ve drawn characters that look like Bibi before,

I think I’ve just always liked little black furry critters with big white eyes. They’re fun to draw honestly XD

And when my pen broke I thought I’d try my hand at making an “art doll”. So I just drew a little sketch of one of these critters and got to work.

As for his name I think I was like “ hmm.. gotta name him somethin cute. Like baby. Or bubby, oo- or Bibi. Yeah Bibi sounds good” XD

@thatoneeraser XD Bibi is he/him. And I’m not really sure what he is. He’s just some kind’a weird black furry critter with cat vibes I made, definitely his own species-

#my response #bibi #fnaf security breach

176 notes · View notes

cadmuslabs777 · 10 months

Text

WIP from like 2 years ago, I like it but idk if I'll ever finish it? It's very silly. I just wanted to write something with the wonderland kids gang and also about Jervis and Lex's friendship. Lex would totally be obsessed with helping Jervis to have a normal happy life. (Smallville!Lex anyway) (also Jervis looks like Gotham Fox Jervis bc I love him the most)

Jervis is leaning on the doorframe, he's wearing a simple white t-shirt and jeans and his hair is tied up in a bun. He looks tired but has a soft look in his eyes. "Lex. Look. I'm schizophrenic, I'm a dangerous criminal and I'm a gay man. That's quite the negative combo, there's no way I could ever legally adopt the kids."

Lex is standing on the grass close to the steps leading to the door. He's got his arms crossed and is wearing a long black trenchcoat as usual. He looks at Jervis like he's made a good point, but he's not ready to give up. He never is.

"Well..." he tries to find something in his favor "being gay is not that much of a negative point nowadays, and if they show any hints of homophobia we can sue them... That could actually work pretty well in our favor..."

"I'm still also single." Jervis added before Lex could think any further.

"Oh, yeah... That's usually a negative point too, but-"

"You could marry Jonathan." suggested Sally, appearing suddenly at Jervis' side. Kat was also with her, smiling proudly. Somewhere in the distance baby Alice could be heard happily screaming "Nathan!".

"Ah... I don't know..." Jervis blushed and crossed his arms almost as to comfort himself. "Pretty sure Jonathan would be horrified if I even mentioned something like that."

Kat snorted and Sally looked at him as if saying "sure, if you say so". They were very convinced that Jonathan was secretly in love with Jervis, as were all the other kids.

"Anyways," Sally continued "the idea occurred to me mainly because I don't think Jonathan plans to marry anyone in the far future. He is against marriage, if I'm not mistaken, unless for tax purposes.

"Really?" Lex asked.

"Yeah, we asked him once."

"Oh, please, don't remind me of that, it was so embarrassing." Jervis covered his face with one hand at the memory.

Lex was pensive, so the girls waited anxiously. Behind them, Diego and Bonnie could be seen trying to peek at the conversation.

"You know what? That's not a bad idea. I like it." He said to a proud Sally. "We'll call him over and explain the situation, and if he declines, well, you can always marry me."

At that, Jervis laughed happily and put a hand over his heart. "Aww, you're so sweet."

Lex put both hands in his pockets, looking relaxed and not at all joking. "I'm serious," he said, almost casually "I've been married 3 times and I can assure you that both marrying me and divorcing me can be a great advantage."

The kids got a little agitated but didn't seem to dislike the idea, they simply looked at Jervis expectantly.

"...Oh" Jervis said, feeling both flattered and conflicted. Lex was already doing so much for him. He was that type of friend who was always eager to do literally anything for you. But that came mostly from his fear of losing his only friends and the suggestion made Jervis feel like he would really be taking advantage of him. "Right, but..."

"But first let's call Jonathan." He interrupted him with a knowing smile, as if reading his next words, and stepped to entered the house.

#wip

1 note · View note

pluckyredhead · 2 years

Note

Hank/Todd

who hogs the duvet

Todd, viciously.

who texts/rings to check how their day is going

I was going to say Hank, but Todd is incredibly clingy and also Jen has called him a mother hen, so...Todd.

who’s the most creative when it comes to gifts

Hank, Todd either forgets or gets very cheesy gifts. (See: the necklace he gave Jen, absolutely awful.)

who gets up first in the morning

Hank, Todd is basically nocturnal.

who suggests new things in bed

Hank.

who cries at movies

Hank.

who gives unprompted massages

No one because they both have pronounced startle responses. It's the trauma!

who fusses over the other when they’re sick

VERY MUCH EXTREMELY TODD.

who gets jealous easiest

Todd as a character is pretty much defined by jealousy, so...Todd.

who has the most embarrassing taste in music

Like Jason, these two both debuted in 1983, so in my head they are right there with him rocking out to Bonnie Tyler.

who collects something unusual

I'm not sure Hank has had enough stability in his living situation for this, but I just thought of him collecting 1940s stuff in memory of Sylvester and I got choked up. I guess he could just steal it from Pat.

who takes the longest to get ready

Hank. That hair doesn't artfully tousle itself!

who is the most tidy and organised

I think they're both reasonably neat!

who gets most excited about the holidays

Neither, holidays hold a lot of traumatic memories for both of them. Todd sucks it up and spends Christmas with Jen and the Haydens and/or Alan (and probably goes to mass by himself), but Hank gets to avoid it entirely and go to the movies and eat Chinese food with Al.

who is the big spoon/little spoon

Todd is a couple inches shorter but he's still the big spoon.

who gets most competitive when playing games and/or sports

Hank is a jock, but Todd is a sore loser, so sports are probably not the best idea.

who starts the most arguments

Todd lol.

who suggests that they buy a pet

Hank. Todd says no. They get a pet anyway.

what couple traditions they have

I am giving up on this question, I hate this question.

what tv shows they watch together

This one too. I don't know. Miami Vice. They met in 1984!

what other couple they hang out with

Al and Toni, Jen and whoever she's dating once the awkwardness subsides. (Not Kyle, Kyle does not wish to be double murdered.)

how they spend time together as a couple

Aggressively pretending they are not a couple.

who made the first move

Todd, Hank would never have dared to risk it.

who brings flowers home

Aw Hank, you sap.

who is the best cook

They're both reasonably capable of keeping themselves fed. Hank has better stock recipes but Todd is better at improvising from what's available.

#meme #todd rice #obsidian #henry king jr #brainwave jr

9 notes · View notes

sw124 · 2 years

Text

FNAF Security breach: Baby Gregory AU

Part15: Weave the web

It was hard just sitting around all the time, the plushies and repaired staff bots did keep her company but Charlotte was getting tired of just sitting around watching camera footage. But its not like she had a choice, her legs were mangled. Bonnie repaired some of her legs but given the damage..they were shot.

Bonnie knew this, there was no way he was gonna leave his new friend hanging. His usual scrounging found him some things that could work as some new legs. By this point he knew the sewers like the back of his missing ear, he knew where the trash chutes for Parts an Service was and often found some things. Today he hit the jackpot, there was enough parts to actually make and repair Charlotte’s body.

But not just that, some of the repaired staff bots found some fabrics and other clothing items tossed down in the trash. Well Bonnie knew what he was going to do with those, thats for sure. With his treasure in hand he and the rest of the bots made their way back to the warren, Charlotte was propped up in a chair…playing with a bit of string she found.

“Hey we’re back, good news we found some stuff to repair your body!”

Charlotte looked up, tilting her head to the side a bit.

Bonnie dropped the bag near the work table before going over to her, slowly picking her up and gingerly setting her down on the table. He maneuvered the tabled so she was sitting upright, somewhat so she could watch, he did this more out of building trust rather then comfort. He wanted the person he was fixing to know what he was doing at all times, that and it made conversations less awkward.

Bonnie was just setting out the tools when he noticed Charlottes gaze go towards the parts, not so much the parts but the other things he and the staff bots collected. The assortment of fabrics and clothing, smiling he reached down and handed the clothing items to her.

“Have a look, we sorta collect whatever we can get our hands on, never know what might come in handy. Why not have a look through that, its gonna take a bit to fix you up an-“

He stopped and watched her pull out the different fabrics…an began to either pull at threads or simply rip some of them. Well whatever kept her entertained, Bonnie started working. Her legs were completely shot, no wonder she had trouble getting out of the pit. He started working on the joints, adding springs, new supports and more. The feet were going to be a challenge but nothing he couldn’t handle, he designed them to be like Sun and Moon-

….Sun and Moon….

Geez, this wasn’t the time. But…working on Charlotte’s new feet reminded him of the times he’d help fix up the Daycare attendant. A few times Sun an Moon would damage some part of themselves, not on purpose of course; most of the time it was when they got overly excited and swung their hand or foot around and knock into the play-structures.

Heh…it was kinda funny, most of the time it was Sun who was the one getting hurt but he recalled the time Roxy tripping over herself and mangling her shoulder. She caught the edge of a fountain, it was a simple fix. What made it funny was how she was complaining the whole time, saying she tripped over a kid, then a rock, then a ‘wet floor’ bot. She kept changing it to hide her embarrassment….

…..He missed them…he missed them badly….

No, he had to focus. Shaking his head of the memories he refocused back on the task, he was getting the left foot joint aligned. With his modifications he was sure Charlotte could not just walk but even jump a great distance if she desired. The springs in her legs would make that possible, the hip joints would allow her legs to move in any direction. A ‘contortion’ joint as he called it, this similar joint was what made Moon and Sun so flexible and quick. Given their time spent doing aerial stunts and dances for kids, well Sun would do those, Moon mostly used it to keep an eye on children from above..or snake his way in the play-tubes when playing games with some kids.

He was just working on the other hip joint…when he noticed it, Charlotte’s little project. She had taken bits and pieces of different clothing…an was making herself some clothes. Her fingers poking threads through fabric like a makeshift needle, from what he could tell…she was making herself a pair of pants it seemed. They looked similar to what Sun an Moon wore but shorter, they were black with spaced lines of white. Saved for the edges that were white and ruffled, Bonnie smiled watching her work.

“Ok, all done!”

He stepped back and looked a this handy work, the legs were skinny yes but no less powerful. If she was going to be down here she needed something for defense, swinging the new legs over…she stood up on them. She wobbled for a moment before getting steady, though the endo was exposed she could walk around perfectly.

“I…never thought I would walk like this again…”

Again? Could she not walk normally before? He watched her for a moment and noted..yes she had a marionette appearance so maybe she was held up by wires, that would make sense. He looked down at her feet, he slipped on some shoes he found. Well more like slippers but with curled toes, very much like the ones worn by Sun and Moon, sadly the stockings were stained black from the sludge but…Charlotte didn’t seem to mind. She was more then happy to walk around on her new legs…then before he knew it she was slipping on her newly made pants.

“Heh, looking sharp there Charlotte-“

“Charlie..”

Bonnie paused. “What?”

“You can….call me Charlie..I prefer to be called that anyway.”

“Ok…Charlie it is then.”

Now this was new, first she says her name is Charlotte but now she wants to be called Charlie? Oh well, her name her rules he supposed. He knelt down and helped button the back of the pants to keep them from falling…..he watched as she reached into the bag and pulled out a Staff head and proceed to detach its face. She was examining the features…before touching her own broken face

Thats when the question came tumbling out of his mouth.

“Kid…how in the hell did you end up here?”

Charlie became still…she turned to him for a moment, she didn’t say anything. She moved away towards the computers. Bonnie worried he overstepped..that is until she began talking.

“I…came here to save someone.”

She found some paint, old paint but paint none the less. White, pink, blue and green….she picked up a rag, dipped it in the white paint.

Charlie began telling her story…as she worked on her new face.

——————————————-

She couldn’t remember how she got there…yet there she was…by a pond…in the woods. Last thing she recalled was Lefty falling apart, her escaping from his mouth…..her fathers voice..his embrace..

An the flames around her…

There was a light, her father calling out her name….she followed it an now…here she was. Standing at the edge of a vermillion pond with a dock…and a old man sitting on the dock fishing. Almost on instinct she walked to him…once beside him she sat…

Both in silence for a while….before the old man spoke.

“I’m sorry to have called you here, you should be with your dad but…I’m afraid there’s something that needs your attention. You out of all of them have not warranted my presence so to speak, an the gifts you gave helped me catch the demon….but I’m afraid its free once more.” The old man’s voice was as dry and withered as an autumn leaf…yet no less gentle.

“…..My…gifts….” Charlie whispered, the memories coming back.

“You gave them comfort, a chance to right the wrong done on to them…but now I’m afraid more harm is yet to come if nothing is done soon…” the old man croaked.

She didn’t hesitate when she asked.

“What must I do?”

She watched as a ghost of a smile came to the old man’s lips.

“Three souls have returned to earth, each given a second chance…however the demon that caused so much pain has followed them and is planning to continue his reign of horror. He plans to use the three souls to return….you must go back, find the demon…and ensure he never returns.” The old man stood up…motioning for Charlie to follow.

As she did..he continued.

“I’ve put them each in three different bodies…sadly one has been compromised but two are still free, you can save them but you’ll have to go through hell to do so…do you accept this task?” Asked the old man…

“If it means no more suffering for them….I’ll do it.”

The old man’s smile broadened..he reached out his hand to her…who took it.

“You’re just like your father…always thinking of others, I see why he’s so proud of you..”

Gently the old man walked into the vermillion water, Charlie beside him…she felt the ground disappear beneath her. For a moment she felt weightless, there was a period of darkness before she felt something cold against her back. Her eyes opened to the sight of millions of stars across a deep blue sky….

She was back…back in the puppet, back in the land of the living so to speak. Sitting up she found herself in a field of tall grass, to her left just a yard away was a road….and a car that was flipped on its top. She moved towards the vehicle, smoke rising from the undercarriage. Two bodies spilled out of each side…it was clear they were dead from the injuries, it wasn’t hard to spot the cut break wires even for someone like Charlie.

Inside she found a third body, this one however was alive, alive, hurt and crying. It was dangling from the straps of their car seat, wailing like a banshee. Given the body’s thin design it was easy to maneuver inside the mangled machine and unhook the straps. The infant gently plopped into her hands…and slowly she brought him to her chest and held him.

The poor thing was scared and cold…but safe and sound, as she maneuvered out of the car she found a little slip of paper near one of the bodies. She glanced over the words, finding it was a little shopping list for a party…at the top of the page in bold letters it read….

Gregory B-Day List

So…thats was the baby’s name, without thinking she tore off the section containing the name and slid it into the infants clothes. The one thing she found horrible in life was living without a proper name, she gently rocked the poor infant. Her clawed fingers slowly raking through his hair, it was enough for him to calm down. Looking up she saw the massive building…but also she saw the silhouette of a rabbit coming towards them. She waisted no time ducking down into the grass with the baby…and making her way to the building.

It was just like the old man said…one was compromised, but she at least knew two were strong enough to fight back. Getting in was…rather easy, a broken vent provided the perfect entry. She crawled for a time before coming to an opening, she wasn’t sure where she was…other then somewhere that needed a large charging station. An just around the corner….was a fancy room colored red, pictures of a bear with a blue star on his face, bow tie and top hat everywhere. Some drawn, some painted, some printed…dolls, action figures, helmets, even an arcade game….and the bear in question with neon lights spelling his name.

Freddy Fazbear

A name Charlie was far to familiar with…but this Freddy was…different, he wasn’t like the toy version she knew yet was just as articulated as he was..even more so. Its chest cavity was wide open and empty…as if on command she made her way to the animatronic…leaned towards the chest cavity and very slowly…

Tucked the tiny baby into its protector.

End pt.15

[This was inspired by art done by @callmebread please check out their channel for more on this AU, Reblogs are greatly appreciated!]

#fanfic #five nights at freddy's

59 notes · View notes

imagine-darksiders · 3 years

Text

Old Timer

Chapter 4 - Together again.

-----------

“Eideard?”

His name tiptoes from your lips in a whispered breath.

You stare at him, your mouth hanging slightly agape and refusing to close, as though the very muscles in your jaw have forgotten how they're supposed to work.

There had once been a thousand things you would have wanted to say to him, if ever given the chance, yet now, in the moment where that chance has actually come about, you find yourself devoid of any words or thoughts.

“You all right there, bonnie?” the maker asks, his lips twitching into a hesitant smile, “Look like you've seen a ghost.”

'A ghost!.... Ha!'

You'd laugh if you didn't think you might faint at any moment. Instead, your mouth opens with the intention to scoff at the dramatic irony of his statement, but what comes out instead is a strangled sob that causes the maker's ears to tilt down in alarm.

“Hey, hey now...” he utters softly, lifting his hand up towards you, his gaze darting to the tears that have begun to roll down your cheeks, “What's this about? Eh? Did old Cruim scare you? Is it your leg?”

Covering your mouth, it’s all you can do to just stare back and shake your head.

As far as Eideard knows, something truly horrific must be happening to you that would warrant the spilling of this many tears. Makers are seldom known to cry, even under the most terrible, unimaginable duress.

Guided by something that's not quite instinct, but stronger than a simple urge to help, to fix, he reaches up to his shoulder until a careful finger hovers gingerly just inches from the skin of your cheek. Then, sucking down a steadying breath, Eideard wills himself to close the distance, hardly daring to inhale again as he sweeps the very tip of his forefinger over your cheekbone and brushes away the wet tear tracks that linger there.

To his utmost dismay, the action only makes you start to cry even harder and he quickly withdraws his hand, worried that he'd somehow managed to hurt you.

He has no idea that by wiping away your tears, he'd unintentionally echoed the very last moments you'd spent with the Eideard from your timeline.

He’d collapsed, laying prone in the soft grass. Your tears had mingled with the blood pooling in his clavicle as you knelt on his chest and wailed, your fists pounding above his heart in the desperate hope that you could bully the fading organ into beating strong and steady once again. You'd gone still however, weeping hopelessly when Eideard's thumb swept gently over your cheek and gathered up the tears there.

The memory is a powerful one, and you have to blink furiously until the blurred image of a dying Eideard is replaced by the very much alive maker staring at you with concern lining his youthful features.

You've seen that expression so often, you never thought you'd miss it so much after you stopped seeing it.

All of a sudden, through no real cognitive decision of your own, you promptly launch yourself sideways along the maker's broad shoulder and collide with his head.

Though reflex tells him to flinch, Eideard forces himself to keep still as thin, delicate arms are slung around his face and a warm body squashes into his cheek shortly after.

He's monumentally glad that he has yet to venture down into the village proper. Standing up here next to the entrance, none of his fellows will be able to make out the rosy flush that has shot up into his ears, should they happen to look.

It isn't as though makers are a species for whom intimacy is a foreign concept, but intimacy outside of social circles is a rare and seldom-witnessed occurrence, whilst intimacy between members of two separate species is all but unheard of.

Despite his uncertainty, Eideard's heart flutters at the thought that he's managed to earn this splendid reward and he momentarily forgets that he's supposed to be worried about you, too distracted by the realisation that he has never known a touch so gentle, yet so fierce at the same time. If he dwells on it for too long, he'll probably grow sad to consider how he's lived his whole life deprived of the sensation of hands pressing indents into his skin.

Of their own accord, his fingertips come to rest on your fragile spine and '...Oh,' he thinks as you bury your face even more firmly against him, '...I could get used to this.'

But when a hitching sob suddenly causes you to jerk beneath his fingers, he springs to attention once more and banishes the desire to push his head urgently into your touch.

“I didn't thank you...”

Eideard freezes at the sound of your voice, trembling and small next to his ear.

“What's that you say?” he swallows.

But it's as though you don't even hear him. From his angle, the maker can't see that your eyes are wide open and staring out towards the village beyond, yet you're completely blind to everything happening around you whilst the same, terrible memory plays cruelly in your mind's eye.

Eideard, laying on the ground, blood trickling from his nose, mouth and even from behind his eyelids, like little rivers running off the face of a mountain. His once pristinely white beard had been so stained with blood, your hands became soaked with it when you clawed your way up his chest, delirious beyond coherency.

“I-I can't remember if I ever thanked you,” you say again in a warbling whisper that causes Eideard's ears to perk up attentively, “For saving us - For... for everything.”

Your slip-up doesn’t even catch his notice, not that you really notice it either, though.

Another sob catches like a rock in your throat and you turn your face away from the village, burying it into a soft, fluffy beard and letting your eyes dampen the old maker's cheek. A cheek that's warm and flushed with colour, a far cry from the cold, pale cheek you remember crying into at the centre of the valley all those long months ago.

Eideard's familiar smell fills your nostrils as you draw a deep inhale through your nose and let yourself bask in the unplaceable scent that reminds you of wood and soil.

You've missed him.

Shit... You've missed him so much.

It's perhaps a blessed thing that you hadn't said that last part out loud and baffled the maker even more than you already have, because not a second later, his throat rumbles with an uncertain chuckle and he says, “S'this how you thank everyone who saves you from a demon? Or am I just a special exception?”

And just like that, the reality of the situation comes flooding back to hit you with the force of a speeding bullet-train, smacking you from your memories and dumping you unceremoniously into Tri Stone once again.

Lurching away from the maker, your eyes snap open and you tear your arms from his face and sputter out a nonsensical string of sounds, earning a bemused grin from Eideard, who twists his head sideways to watch you raise your hands to your face, covering it slowly as rationality cuts through the haze of shock and a horrifying realisation dawns on you.

This is Eideard. But this is not your Eideard. Not yet.

He has no idea that you're thanking him for so much more than he could possibly imagine.

“I-I'm sorry,” you stammer at last, swiping furiously at your eyes, “I just... wanted to thank you for saving me from the stalker. Yeah. B-but, I didn't mean to, uh, hug you like that. I'm... honestly not sure what came over me.”

His expression softens and he quirks his lips into a playful smirk. “Hmm, well, whatever it was, I hope there'll be more.”

'Oh for god's sake.' Mortally embarrassed, you turn away from him and hope that the heat in your cheeks isn't obvious.

For all he knows, you've just draped yourself across his face like a lovesick fool, all because he saved you from a stalker.

But perhaps most mortifying of all, what really disturbs you, is that Eideard – your Eideard, the kindly maker with the disposition of a doting father – is, or rather, used to be a shameless flirt.

An attractive, shameless flirt.

Oh God... You're fairly certain you flirted back.

And it's Eideard...

Your vision starts to swim.

Just then, an enormous fingertip slides beneath your chin and you find yourself helpless to resist as your face is guided back towards him. Red-tinged eyes meet ethereal blue and for one, jarring moment, the stern yet fretful tilt of his golden brows ages the maker's face enough that you catch a glimpse of the old Eideard hidden underneath.

“Hey. Don't you go hiding that pretty face from me,” he rumbles, “I need to know you're all right.”

Your heart does a somersault.

“I'll be fine,” you slur, swaying on his shoulder, “Think I just need to lay down..”

Eideard's bemused expression quickly shifts to alarm when your body goes limp and you begin to tilt sideways, gradually slipping from the maker's broad shoulder. Fortunately for you, Eideard has always been an exceptionally attentive maker, even at this young age, and without missing a beat, he spins his hand around to capture you gently between his fingers.

The motion jerks you back to full consciousness again and you give your head a shake, blinking up into the pale, blue eyes of a highly concerned maker.

“Think it's time I got you to the Shaman,” he suggests.

Sagging heavily against his fingers, you can't help but agree. “I think that's a good idea.”

You wish you could just disappear, save yourself from the mortifying ordeal of knowing that you've been receiving advances from Eideard of all people.

That's... going to take some adjusting to.

Eyeing the village ahead, the maker turns his focus onto the eastern side, where the lights are dimmest and the gaps between each stone hut are frequent and draped in shadow. He hums pensively and begins to walk.

It isn't that he doesn't want his fellow makers to meet you – but he'd prefer to get you to the shaman sooner rather than later and get your leg tended to....

…

And... though he isn't proud to admit it, he wouldn't mind keeping you to himself just a little while longer.

Slowly, steadily, he carries you down the village steps, casting frequent glances down at you to ascertain your condition. Every time, he finds you staring back at him with a spell-bound look in your eyes.

Glowing under the attention, he spares a moment to waggle his brows at you, relishing the squeak that jumps out of your mouth as you hurriedly avert your gaze.

With a warm chuckle, Eideard returns his attention to the walled garden at the far end of the village – and promptly stiffens at the sound of voices calling his name.

“Eideard!”

“You're back!”

He doesn't miss that you turn rigid in his palm, prompting him to lift you a little higher into the air as he shoots you an apologetic glance, slowing his gait just in time to avoid tripping over a trio of tiny, excitable younglings who appear from nowhere and fall into step around him.

“Where've you been!?” a maker boy shouts, and grinning so widely, his cheeks start to turn red. “Did you kill any baddies!?”

Curious, you lean forwards over Eideard's fingers and peer down, only to find yourself biting back the urge to coo out loud at the endearing sight.

The youngling who'd spoken looks as though he'd barely stand a few heads higher than you and he's jogging backwards to avoid Eideard's boots as the older maker continues to advance cautiously down the path. A mess of shocking, copper hair sticks up from the top of his head, though it's clear that at some point, another maker has tried to gather the unruly mess into some semblance of a braid that hangs down to his shoulders and is sloppily tied off with a blue ribbon. The moment your face pokes out from behind Eideard's fingers, the youngling lets out a loud gasp and nearly trips over his own feet, eyes growing round.

“What. Is. That!?” he exclaims, pointing up at you.

“Mind your manners,” the older maker scolds gently, “It's not nice to point. This is my new friend – Oh.” Swivelling his gaze back onto you, he blinks, looking the slightest bit sheepish. “I don't think I ever did catch your name.”

“Huh? Oh, I guess we never really introduced ourselves properly, did we?.” Scratching at the back of your neck, you introduce yourself. “Y/n. My name’s Y/n.”

“Y/n...” he repeats in a dulcet murmur, his attention never leaving you, even as he addresses the boy at his feet, “This is my friend, Y/n, Ulthane.”

The youngling's eyes remain wholly fixed upon you and he utters a small 'oooh' of wonder, standing on the toes of his boots to see you better. And whilst you're just as intrigued with the maker-in-miniature, it's his name that catches your ear.

“Wait... Did you just call him Thane?” you blurt, incredulous.

All of a sudden, another voice pipes up from Eideard's left. “He's not Thane, I am!”

Startled, you glance down to find another maker youngling frowning back up at you and jabbing a finger towards the copper-haired boy. “That's Ulthane. He's my brother.”

With a slow blink, you take in the new youngling as he trots along at Eideard's side.

“No way,” you breathe, letting your jaw drop further and further with each passing second.

Well. It's Thane alright - from the steely eyes that regard you warily, to the walnut-brown hair sticking up from his head like a bird's nest, much akin to his brother's. There's a purple bruise colouring one of his cheekbones, worn proudly, no doubt the mark of accomplishment from a bout of rough-housing with his fellow younglings.

Slowly, with the kind of hesitancy that's fostered from sheer disbelief, you work your lips into a half-smile and utter, “Hi... Thane.”

Flicking his gaze between you and Eideard, Thane fidgets under your stare and drops back a little until he's partially hidden behind the larger maker's boots.

“Ha!” Ulthane jeers, “He's scared!”

In an instant, his brother raises his voice and retorts, “I AM NOT!”

You pick your jaw up and rub tentatively at your forehead, sensing the beginnings of a headache coming on. To think, one day, this boy will turn into the herculean warrior who once bested Death in combat...

“You're pretty,” an airy, feminine voice suddenly pipes up, and you whip your head around and down once again, catching sight of yet another, even younger maker beaming back at you, so small that she's practically jogging to keep up with Eideard's lengthy strides.

“Told you,” the elder in question murmurs smugly, pushing his thumb into your ribs.

Momentarily forgetting about Thane, you flop your jaw around for a few seconds before any sort of thought finally occurs. “Uh... Thanks?” you reply, hastily adding, “Y-you too.”

Pawing her long, blonde hair behind one of her ears, she giggles and ducks behind Eideard and out of sight, though the pitter-patter of her feet mixed between the heavy stomps of his own betray the fact that she's keeping pace close at his heels.

Meanwhile, Thane has finally left the safety of Eideard's shadow and has joined his brother in trying to walk as tall as he can on his toes to see over the older maker's hands, evidently curious about the newcomer in his midst now that your attention has turned elsewhere.

After a moment, he pipes up. “What are you?”

You don't think you'll ever get used to looking down at Thane.

Before you can open your mouth to reply, Ulthane suddenly blurts out a question of his own. “How come you're so small?”

“Um.. well, I -” you attempt, but no sooner do you try to speak than questions begin to take turns flying from their tongues, each fired off far too quickly for you to formulate a single response.

“Are you a maker?”

“Where'd Eideard find you?”

“Where are your tusks?”

“How old are you?”

“Why do you -”

“All right now, you lot. That's enough,” the older maker interjects, coming to a stop at the foot of a staircase that leads up towards the luscious garden you'd seen on your arrival, “I didn't bring Y/n back to the village to be interrogated. Why don't you three wait here while we go and find the shaman, eh?”

Almost instantly, his suggestion is met with a chorus of disappointed moans and objections.

“Aw, but Eideaaaard!” Ulthane whinges, putting a broad grin on your face.

Thane, in the meantime, steps forward to grab Eideard's trouser leg, tugging at it imploringly. “We promise to not ask any more questions!”

You risk a subtle glance up at the maker's face, admittedly curious to find out whether he has always been a pushover, even from an early age. And from the press of his lips and rapidly-tilting brow, it looks as though his resolve is already starting to waver.

“I... I don't mind if they come along,” you suggest at last, earning a delighted gasp from the younglings and a skeptical look from the older giant.

“You sure?” he asks, “Don't want you to be-” Something abruptly tells him that you won't appreciate it if he says 'scared.' So, instead, he mumbles, “- overwhelmed.”

You almost want to laugh aloud. How in the world could you be any more overwhelmed than you already are? You're sitting in a young Eideard's palm, being stared at by a much younger Thane, in a Tri Stone that's twice the size of the one you left.

'Overwhelmed' is a gross understatement.

Instead of voicing that thought however, you simply brush it aside and offer a shrug. “I don't mind,” you say again. And honestly? You really don't mind. There are far more pressing matters weighing on your conscience than a couple of adorable, curious younglings.

Eideard however, still seems hesitant, a direct contrast to the three young makers who, at your words, promptly dart up the steps, with Ulthane in the lead.

“Muria!” he hollars her name boisterously, “You'll never guess what we've found!”

At hearing the confirmation of Muria's presence, your heart soars into your throat but you're quick to rein in your enthusiasm, aware that she, like Eideard, will have no idea who you are.

“We?” you mouth at him, echoing Ulthane's claim.

Eideard's moustache twitches and the corners of his eyes lift up until they're wrinkled with a friendly smile. “Ah, don't mind the boys. They just like to be included.”

Gradually, he begins to take the steps after the youngest maker, watching vigilantly as she struggles to keep up with the brothers, whose legs are far longer than her own.

Sadly, she must have misjudged the distance between herself and one of the steps, because when she leaps up onto it, only half of her boot makes it with her, and there's a heart-lurching second where she begins to tip backwards again, her chubby arms flailing as she tries to propel herself out of losing her balance.

“Careful!” you gasp.

But then, to your relief, Eideard stoops and throws his hand out, halting her fall with the back of his knuckles. “Easy there, Elanya. What’ve I said about looking where you’re going?”

Gently, he pushes her upright once again and she tosses him a bright grin over her shoulder before scampering up the stairs, as though she hadn't almost fallen down them mere seconds ago.

Standing to his full height, the maker watches her all the way up the stairs, releasing a sigh of relief when she arrives at the top with no further incident. Tipping his head down, he's about to begin his own ascent when he catches your eye and hesitates with one foot poised to carry him forward. You're lounging back against his fingers, an elbow balanced on the edge of his thumb and your fist propping up your chin, giving the maker your most knowing stare.

“What?” he asks.

In response, you merely lift your shoulders in a shrug and say, “Oh, nothing. It's just nice to know I'm dealing with a gigantic softie, that's all.” Of course, you've known that all along – but it does provide you some comfort to know that it won't be age that softens Eideard's heart. Evidently, he's always been of a gentler nature than most.

Furrowing his brow doesn't hide the glint of playfulness in his eyes as he begins to take the steps two at a time, shaking his head.

It doesn't escape your notice however, that he never disputes the claim.

#darksiders #darksiders 2 #Old timer #Eideard #soft boYo!#Reader #g/t #Ulthane #Thane

58 notes · View notes

kirythestitchwitch · 3 years

Text

Til I Tasted You: Chapter 2

Bonnie talks Caroline into trying out a "To Find A Mate" spell. The traveling through time part was completely unexpected, as was who the spell reveals. Chapter One on AO3

Uh hi so, this is like three years later! I got inspiration and like was well, I might as well do that sequel everyone asked for!

Thank you @cupcakemolotov and @certifiedceraunophile for your advice and encouragement!

Tags: Time Travel, Mates, Woodsy Makeouts, Magical Accidents, Human Klaus Mikaelson, Vampire Caroline Forbes, things do not go as planned, Werewolf Mates, this isn't a slow burn this is two idiots , tanding around on fire, very tense conversations on porches, You ever just YEARN?, it's yearning hours, Hybrid Klaus Mikaelson, Yeah the 'does he find out?' chapter is here

Caroline parked her car in front of the house and breathed for a minute in the dark, forehead pressed to the steering wheel. She'd had to haltingly explain to Bonnie while wrapped in her comforter what happened.

Embarrassed, horrified, and intrigued in equal measure, Bonnie had seemed to understand what she meant when she tried to explain the way touching him had felt. “It’s the mate bond. It how they… know,” she said awkwardly, gesturing to one of the books still on the floor.

A horrible thought occurred to Caroline. “So you knew. You knew that Tyler wasn’t, because we didn’t...” she trailed off, but Bonnie seemed to understand.

“I knew,” her friend nodded guiltily. “I thought maybe someone new might help, after he...” She bit her lip, obviously thinking how badly that had backfired.

"Damon's going to want to use this," her friend had whispered. And not for the first time, Caroline wondered how much of herself she had to give up for Elena’s happiness. Klaus wasn’t good, he wasn’t kind, but according to very adamant magic, he was hers. And he’d tried to kill her twice.

She could deal with this tomorrow, she thought, finally climbing out of the car. First period history tests didn’t care that your world had been upended, they only cared about essay questions about the political tensions of France in 1789. As she set her foot on the top porch step, Klaus’ voice came out of the dark. “Having a pleasant evening, Caroline?” Her head snapped up.

Klaus leaned casually in the shadow of one of the porch posts, like showing up unannounced at 9pm when she was in a crisis didn't make him a big creepy weirdo. His eyes perused her appearance before refocusing on her face. Something a little like hope, like satisfaction, dawned on his face. "Leave something in the woods?"

Caroline inhaled sharply. Under Bonnie's borrowed shirt she could still feel echoes of his hands gripping her close, could still taste him when she licked her lips, and it felt like the most searing of damnations to still somehow want him. She scoffed anyway. "Did everyone go hiking today? I must have missed the invite."

The corner of his mouth twitched. "That is not the yellow shirt you were wearing this morning. Rebekah was quite... detailed."

She looked away, flush crawling up her cheeks in mortification. "I guess it was too much to hope you had forgotten?" Perversely, desperately, she had wanted him to have remembered.

Klaus didn't seem to breathe and then with a quick step he erased the concept of personal space. "If you think I have forgotten a single moment of what it felt like to touch you in all the time I have had to contemplate what you mean to me, you have not been paying attention." He lifted his hand and with careful fingers touched one of her curls as one touches something precious and burning.

She swatted his hand away. "I think I've been paying attention every time you tried to kill me, Klaus!"

"Do tell," he said neutrally, rubbing his fingertips against his thumb before dropping his hand.

Crossing her arms, she glared at him. This close to him the urge to reach for him was prickling under her palms again and that way lay madness. “You kidnapped me and tried to use me in your murdery hybrid ritual,” she said.

His fingers twitched again, and he shoved them in his pockets. “Yes, I can see how having you and my hybrid safely tucked away from the Salvatore’s incompetence for an afternoon was actually mistaken for an attempt on your life,” he said mildly.

“They snapped my neck and manacled me to a wall, and I was supposed to think ‘Ah, Klaus is trying to save my life, of course, that’s completely obvious!’”

Klaus lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “It seemed expedient at the time.”

Caroline rolled her eyes. “Okay, then please explain making Tyler bite me over a pissing contest you had with Stefan.”

For the first time, Klaus looked away, lips pressed firmly together. “There was never a moment where I would have let you die.”

“Hey no, you don’t get to pull that ‘You were never in any danger’ crap,” she snapped. “I was terrified and I was dying, and you...” You made me want to start living again, was what she couldn’t say.

“He called you his girlfriend,” Klaus’s golden rimmed gaze practically collided with hers with a fury she could feel like radiant heat on her skin. “His girlfriend, like such an infantilizing word could describe what you could be to someone, like you were his. I gave him the chance to prove me wrong, to show me he could defy me for your sake. He failed.”

It took a moment for Caroline to speak again. “You had him bite me because you were jealous?” she asked, incredulously.

Klaus shifted his weight, and then clenched his jaw, gold fading from his eyes. “As if I could be jealous of a boy who has no concept of what it is like to touch the sun and then spend a millennium looking for daylight in every strangers’ face.” His arms bunched as he held himself still, and Caroline remembered what they felt like under her hands, warmth and crystal clear belonging humming at her fingertips.

She closed her eyes and tried to breathe through the swooping feeling in her stomach. “You can’t just… you can’t just say things like that when I’m furious with you,” she said looking back at him, frustrated, mad, and horribly, undeniably charmed.

Giving her ample time to move, Klaus leaned in slowly until his breath feathered against her face. “When you left me in that forest,” He said lowly, “It was with a name, a bit of fabric, and a yearning I had no reference for. I went home and I died that night, and days later when the wolf came clawing out of me, I awoke tied to a post with the bone deep knowledge of what I had gained and what I had lost.” He licked his lips and she could hardly breathe.

“For a thousand years you stayed lost, and I kept your shirt until time unwound it and the faintest scraps remained. So do not presume to tell me that Tyler has something for me to be jealous of when he fled at the first hint of shame.” Very carefully he took a step back, hands sliding from his pockets to clasp behind his back, as if those few precious inches would make the difference.

Caroline dug her nails into her arms and held onto her anger with both fists. “Klaus, you’ve done… so many terrible things since you came into our lives and you, you did them knowing who I was. You killed Elena, you killed Jenna, you tortured Stefan, you turned Tyler into a minion, and… me. You hurt me.” Mulishly, she set her jaw against the gnawing pit behind her breast bone. “Just because I did some dumb spell that says we’re-” She cut herself off, unable to erase or fit the enormity of time travel into the universe’s neon sign sized hint that they were mates.

More evenly she said, "You chose to do those things and you didn't choose me."

Something cracked open behind his eyes, a yearning of a thousand years laid bare. Voice low and rough, he said, "And if I did? If I did choose you? Would my mate also choose me?" He watched her so carefully, this monster that even death didn't want, and she remembered the way he had barely touched her, not so long ago in her bed.

Carefully, Caroline stepped close, unclenching fingers, unwinding her arms. Klaus went hunter still, waiting while she brought a hand up to his face and deliberately cupped his cheek. The pleasurable rush this time was instantaneous, honey-gold and thick through her veins, leaping skin to skin with a roar of here here here is what I was looking for. With a shudder, Klaus closed his eyes and leaned into her palm, breathed in the scent of her pulse, lips pressed to the base of her thumb. It was relief, it was torture, it was like putting out a hearthfire by burning down the house.

This was a mistake, a miscalculation. The ache of arousal twisted through her, opening a chasm of need in her that didn’t answer to principles or objections, that knew his silver tongue could make better promises on her clit until she begged for his cock. A core deep knowledge that he would deny her nothing she wanted in this and more than she could know to ask for.

Drawing in an unsteady breath (don’t moan don’t moan) she pulled her hand back, the pads of her fingers scraping against the scruff of his face. He didn’t quite follow her hand, letting her go. The wolf in his eyes, he watched her clutch her hands to her chest and it looked like triumph.

“Will it always be like that?” Caroline asked shakily.

Klaus made a considering noise in his throat. “It is said there is some element of intent to it, after a certain point,” he said, the smugness back in his voice. “If it’s what you want.”

She narrowed her eyes, ignoring that rude inner voice that whispered how much she did want. “I guess we’ll see.”

He smiled at her, charm tucked in his dimples as he rocked back on his heels. “I look forward to seeing how I can make things up to you, Caroline.”

And then with a whisper of wind she was alone on her porch, her blood still singing in memory of his heat on her skin.

#my fic #klaroline fanfiction #klaroline fanfic #mates trope #me constantly: drag him Caroline #klaroline #tvd for ts #klaroline for ts #i had to get out of bed to post this shit bc i forgot before i got in bed

42 notes · View notes

sweetchup · 3 years

Text

A Helping Hand: Ghosts of Past // Day 3 ☀️

Type: Shalnark x reader

Au?: Savior Au

Word Count: 1,700+

Warnings: Angst, Previous Character death, this came out as a much sadder chapter than I meant

Author Note: This will hit all sorts of feels for many people, so I’m not sorry. But, I hope you guys like it anyways.

<—(Pt.4.2) / (Pt.4.3🌙)—>

A Helping Hand Masterlist

The loud sound of purring echoes throughout the room as you scratch and pet at Chloe. Laying in bed, with the sun seen slowly rising up through the windows, you reminisce about last night.

First, it was dancing in the grand ballroom. Well… attempting to dance, If it weren’t for Shalnark and his quick instincts, you surely would have fallen flat on your face and embarrassed yourself. Though, sadly, you two couldn’t dance for long due to his injuries but it wasn’t all that bad.

Instead, you two stood to the side, people watching and having a couple of drinks. Shalnark told you much about Meteor City and his childhood with some of the troupe members. Some were happy memories, others were sad but you were just glad he had told you something about him not many have heard.

Then when it started to get too crowded in the ballroom, Shalnark and you left to check out the many booths in the hallways. You two had great fun doing that; from gawking at the prices to imitating scenes from historical paintings, you just couldn’t stop laughing.

Finally, just when the theater show was about to start in the main auditorium, you were surprised when Shalnark was pushing you forward to another area. Taking you outside the building, he carefully looks over his shoulder before breaking out into a sprint. Racing after him, you are confused as to what is happening until Shalnark stops at a park, plenty away from the building.

—.—.—.—

Looking around as he giggles lightly, you watch curiously as Shalnark pulls a necklace out of his pocket.

“Shal! I swear if you—!”

“Shhh. Shhh” Shalnark hushes you, maneuvering behind you to put the necklace on. “Don’t give us away. I shut down the cameras at the place and on the way but you never know who is around.”

Huffing, you glare down at the necklace around your neck. Perfectly hanging over your bosom layed two sleek iron bats with them cradling a heart encrusted gem in their wings. The gemstone, an expensive pure rose quartz, almost seemed to glow under the bright city lights. You hated to admit it but the necklace was gorgeous.

You sigh to yourself, quickly shaking that thought out of your head, “Shal I can’t have this. You, of all people, should know how rare and expensive pure Rose Quartz is. I could— Hey are you even listening?”

You look appalled as Shalnark simply grabs your hand and begins walking off. Shaking a hand through his gelled back hair, he brushes his hair back into a messy version of its original form.

“What do you think we should grab for dinner (y/n)? I’m pretty hungry.” He asks, his blue eyes seeming to glow brightly even under the city lights.

“Shal I swear—“

—.—.—.—

Suddenly, you feel something warm and heavy lean on your back, snapping you out of your thoughts. You look over your shoulder and huff out a laugh.

“Good morning sleepyhead.” You coo out, reaching up and running one of your hands through Shalnark’s bed head.

“Mornin’” He grunts out, his voice deeper than normal due to just waking up. Shalnark attempts to open his eyes to see but after the sunlight nearly blinds him, he instead chooses to wrap his arms around your waist and nestle his face back into your shoulder. After a couple of more moments of enjoying each other’s presence, you suddenly feel the making of a smile etch it’s way onto Shalnark’s face.

“I see you are still wearing the necklace I gave you.” Shalnark mumbles out, bringing his hand up to play with the necklace in between his fingers.

“Oh shut up.”

Shalnark lets out a hefty chuckle, only to regret it when you start to get up. Letting out a whine, he lets go of the necklace to hold you tight to him as you continue to try to escape, “Don’t Leave! Come on (y/n), don’t you wanna be the Bonnie to my Clyde.”

“Nope.” You pop out, finally wiggling your way out of his grip and sitting up on the bed. Looking down at Shalnark, you can’t help but let out a giggle at his offended expression, “I’ll be the Bethany to your Clyde however.”

“The Bethany to my Clyde?” Shalnark repeats amused as he leans back on his forearms. The sheets falling down to reveal his shirtless chest in the process.

“Yep. Instead of approving and joining you on your risqué thefts like Bonnie…” You pause for a second as you sneakily grab the pillow next to you. “I’ll make sure to scold you real hard!”

With a loud thump, you jump on top of Shalnark and hit him square in the face with a pillow.

It’s quiet for a while not a sound is heard. That is until you eventually break and collapse onto Shalnark’s chest in a fit of giggles. As you are attempting to calm yourself down, Shalnark lifts the pillow off his face and chucks it to somewhere else in the room.

“Well, I would still fin—“ “Mew!”

Before Shalnark can even start his sentence, Chloe cuts him off with a loud call causing you to look over at her. Laying on her side, her tail twitches back and forth wistfully, showing how unhappy she was at the moment.

“Aww are you jealous I’m giving Shalnark more attention to you, Chloe? Come here Baby.” You coo out, getting off of Shalnark to press kisses all over Chloe’s face. All the while, Shalnark scowls as he looks on, clearly jealous that you had left him.

“Thief…” He grumbles out under his breath, already planning ways on stealing you back.

—.—.—.—.—.—.—

“I hope Chloe will get along with the other cats alright…” You sighed out, still worried even though it’s barely been over an hour since you dropped Chloe at a local pet day care center.

“It will be okay. It’s better than keeping her trapped in that hotel all day after all.” Shalnark answers with a smile as he swings an arm over your shoulder. He looks around at the area surrounding you two before mumbling under his breath, “Now where was it exactly…”

After walking a little while further down the street, Shalnark suddenly stops.

“Ah! This way.”

Still lost in your thoughts, you unconsciously follow where Shalnark was leading you, not noticing him taking you past a “No trespassing sign” and into a lot full of old abandoned buildings.

It wasn’t until he started to enter one of the buildings, that you even noticed where you were going. Uneasy, you look around you, pausing your search only as he stops in front of a large empty area in the building.

“(Y/n). I would like to introduce you to our troupe hideout.” Shalnark says grandly as he enters, “Well… one of them. We usually change it from place to place.”

Slowly, you take in the room around you, listening lightly as Shalnark talks your ear off. He tells you about where some of the members sat and all the arguments they got to around here.

However, his words soon fade out of your mind as you take notice of something in the corner of the room instead. Walking over carefully, you look down at the many dried up flower petals and burnt out candles. What was this?

“Oh. Damn it, I told Feitan to secure it more carefully.” Shalnark muttered out suddenly, scaring you lightly as you didn’t notice him next to you. You watch curiously as Shalnark fishes through the many flowers. “Ah. There it is.”

You can’t help but feel the breath knocked out of your lungs as you watch what Shalnark pulls up from the petals.

“A cross…” You mumble out agasped. You technically shouldn’t be surprised. After all, you knew one of Shalnark’s members was killed back in the republic of padokea so there could be more. But, at the same time, it felt… almost uncomfortable in a way, standing in front of a grave of someone you didn’t know.

“All… Set.” Shalnark grunts out, securing the cross back in place. It’s quiet for a couple of minutes before Shalnark speaks again. “You know… out of all the troupe members I think Pakunoda would have loved you the most.”

“P…Pardon?”

“Ah. Sorry sorry.” Shalnark mutters, taking a step back before taking a seat in front of the petals. It takes a couple of moments but hesitantly, still unsure if you should, you join him.

“Pakunoda was my designated partner on troupe missions. So, over the years, I got to know her more than most of the members.” Shalnark explains, twiddling one of the petals in his hand. “She was pretty serious about the troupe. Even being so cold at times it would even surprise me. Though… I think that surprise was due to the fact that I knew she had the biggest heart of the troupe…”

Shalnark falls backwards onto the ground, a confused yet also painful look on his face.

“I-I… still don’t understand why she sacrificed herself for the boss. I honestly don’t and not sure if I ever will.”

Sitting there you allow Shalnark’s words to slowly sink into you. You were unsure about what to say especially since you don’t know Pakunoda that well but, at the very least, you knew you had to be there for Shalnark.

Hesitantly, you lay yourself on the cold ground close to Shalnark; Allowing him to hide his face in the crook of your neck. As you begin to run your hand over his back, already feeling it slightly begin to shake under your soothing touch, you think to yourself.

“Shal…” You murmur out, pausing for a second as you stare at the broken stained glass window on the ceiling, “Let’s buy some new flowers for Pakunoda’s grave before we leave. I think… she would appreciate it if we clean it up for her.

You hear Shalnark let out a light chuckle, “Yeah… she would appreciate that a lot. She could be quite the clean freak at times…”

Taglist: @meromelodi, @quartetstarheaven , @yumezai , @lvndrhwis , @writtenappreciation , @jojo-sinner, @pastelbear12 , @aly-kurta , @bbunnycore , @feifood , @akobere7u7 , @aleksa784

#hxh #hunter x hunter #phantom troupe #shalnark #shalnark ryuseih #shalnark x reader #a helping hand

45 notes · View notes

mymelodyheart · 3 years

Text

All I Want For Christmas Is You Chapter 1 ~Sparks Will Fly~

Notes

Hey guys, I'm back with a Christmas Ficlet, "All I Want For Christmas Is You," starring our favourite couple, Jamie and Claire.

It won't be my usual long story, but it's my wee gift to my readership who'd been following my journey in writing and always encouraging me with their insightful comments and kudos.

Please don't be disheartened when I don't always reply back to your comments, as I spend every spare time I have writing. When I'm not writing, I'm dealing with this thing called life and taking care of my loves. But I promise you, I always look forward to reading your feedback, and if you have any questions of any sorts, I will answer them. If you see any mistakes or you wish to impart something I'm doing wrong or give me some ideas, please bear in mind I welcome constructive criticism, and I welcome opinions. I would even thank you for it, and I promise you I won't take it personally. The reason I say this is because I wholeheartedly wish to improve my writing and what a better way when my readers can share their thoughts with me.

Without further ado, I wish you all happy reading.

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

James Fraser stepped into the pub followed by his older brother Willie. Although it was still early evening, there was already a small crowd all hyped up into a party mode. The multiple flat TV screens on the walls were showing world championship darts without the sounds. Instead, the speakers blared with Wham's Last Christmas song with the random interference from the resident DJ. While a handful of men milled around the bar holding their pints, the women sat at the table chattering animatedly and sipping long drinks and port. With Christmas Eve only two days away, there was a sense of excitement and goodwill in the air, typical of the festive season.

"Check out those birds at three o'clock."

Jamie cocked his head at Willie's words.

Two wide-eyed bonnie lassies stood next to the pool table sipping cocktails as if awaiting their turn for a game. Living in a tight community where everyone knew everybody and their business, Jamie immediately discerned the girls were visitors.

Willie unzipped his jacket. "I saw blondie first."

Jamie followed his brother's line of sight, but his eyes darted back to the dark-haired lass with the palest skin he'd ever seen, her tresses done up in a messy bun. Her long legs, accentuated by tight black jeans, grabbed his complete attention. She had a cropped red cable-knit sweater on and boots caked with mud which meant she must have been watching the shinty game earlier along with the rest of the village folks.

"Bloody hell, look at her," Willie murmured.

Blondie wore a purple turtle neck top that showed off her nice breasts, and jeans that hugged her hips snuggly. Jamie grinned. "Och, ye like 'em curvy, but I like her mate more. Shall we talk to them?"

"Aye, let's do that before one of those lads get there first."

Jamie made a move forward.

"Hang on a minute," Willie's hand slapped across Jamie's chest, stopping him mid-saunter. "Yer ex ... she's back here for the holidays. She's sat at the bar with her mates. Are ye sure ye're ready for this?"

"Aye, aye. It's been over between us for ages," Jamie replied, not taking his eyes off the dark-haired lass. He hadn't thought about his ex for a long time and whatever he thought he'd felt for her back then, was nothing but a distant memory.

"This is just a bit of fun, alright? Dinnae get to attached. Blondie and her mate are probably tourists."

Willie had seen him go through hell over a year ago with his ex, who he thought had been the one for him. She had turned his life upside down, affecting his job, and his ability to stay sober after she'd cheated on him. Once Jamie got his act together, he'd sworn off serious relationships and decided to concentrate on work.

"Fun. Fun sounds good," Jamie muttered. When Willie didn't release him, he looked at his brother square in the eyes. "How about ye?"

"What about me?"

"Ye haven't chatted up a lass in a very long time. Are ye sure you still know how to?" Jamie asked, trying to keep a straight face.

Willie shoved his shoulder and feigned offence. "Ye cheeky git! Cannae chat any lass up when I know everyone here, now, can I?"

Jamie nodded toward the two girls. "Weel, what are we waiting for?" He took a deep breath and kinked his head sideways to the left and then to the right. "If we're just gonnae stand here like a couple of numpties and discuss, we'd be too late by the time we get there."

"Mmm, never seen ye this eager to meet a lass before," Willie grinned.

Jamie looked back at the women and noticed they were beginning to garner attention from the lads nearby. The dark-haired one made a move around the pool table followed by her mate, and he was powerless to stop his gaze wandering down to the gentle curve of her arse.

Willie straightened his posture. "Let's go," he exhaled as he made a move.

Jamie followed suit and lined up next to his brother. As they got closer, he watched as the dark-haired lass skirted past a group of pool players with a polite smile, then wrote her initials in chalk on a blackboard mounted to the wall, claiming the next game. CB, she scrawled.

She wrinkled her nose and laughed at something her friend said as she started moving towards the bar. Jamie's frown deepened when the lass didn't see the sports bag put into her path. A few steps more, and she would trip and fall flat on her face. But not if he could help it.

"Hey!" Jamie shouted, abandoning Willie's side. "Hey, ye!"

She took another step, looking over her shoulder to acknowledge what her friend was shouting at her.

"Ah, fuck!" Jamie gritted his teeth and hurried towards her in quick long strides. He had no choice but to jostle a couple of bodies out of his way as she showed no signs of hearing him. He caught her as her foot connected with the bulky bag, his arms sliding under hers and pulling her up.

Her forehead bounced off his chin. "Oh, Lordy, Lordy." She let out a lungful of air and dug her fingernails into his forearms, her breath on his neck feeling like a double shot of heat warming his insides. "I'm such a clumsy oaf."

"Hey mate, shoved that bag under the table will ye, before someone breaks their neck," Jamie shouted over the top of her head at the owner of the bag, his voice sounding a tad harsh. With her front plastered against him, Jamie could almost feel her shock subside, giving way to the vibration of her laughter. Still holding her close, he puffed out a sigh and whispered into her ears. "Next time, ye should look at where ye're going. Ye could have landed on yer face, and that wouldn't have been a pretty sight."

Still laughing, her shoulders shook, presumably finding the situation hilarious. "We left our Airbnb earlier in a hurry, and my contact lenses are at the bottom of my suitcase. I'm farsighted, you see, but I'm too vain to wear my specs."

"Enough to fall flat on yer face? "

A few heartbeats passed. "If I say yes, are you going to start yelling again?"

"Aye."

"Alright then ...no."

Realising he still held the lass in a firm grip, Jamie let her go slowly to reassure himself she was steady on her feet. She kept her head down as she took a step back to rummage through the handbag slung on her shoulder. When she got hold of what she was looking for, she put on a pair of specs and blinked up at him through round, black-rimmed eyeglasses. As their eyes met, he felt something crank in his chest. He must still be wound up from the shinty game earlier because, on a sucked-in breath, an uneven sound passed through his mouth. A Dhia. She had the most beautiful amber eyes, and they reminded him of the colour of the finest heavily peated single malt whisky, Islay had to offer.

"Oooh!" she whispered.

Aye, tell me about it. "What's yer name?"

"You're one of the shinty players from earlier."

"Uh-huh." He tamped down the urge to laugh. "Yer name?" he repeated.

If the spellbound look in her eyes meant she was stunned by what she saw, she wasn't the only one. "Oh, yes. Sorry. I'm Claire. Beauchamp. Claire Beauchamp."

"Claire." For some reason, colour bloomed in her face when he said her name. "I'm Jamie Fraser."

"Hi." After a few seconds of just staring at each other, she recovered first and slapped a hand to her forehead. "Oh, shoot, where are my manners? Thank you. Thank you for saving me from an undignified fall." Her lips twitched, and her eyes twinkled. "If I had died of embarrassment, at least no one would care since nobody knows me here."

"I would care." Someone collided into him from behind, making him close the distance between them and her head tilt back to maintain eye contact. She was a tall lass, but still, he was a head taller than her. "So ... ye're here on holiday?" he asked.

"Yes, I am ...until Boxing Day. And then we're going to Edinburgh for Hogmanay. And then flying back to London on Three Kings from Glasgow." He heard her swallow. "I have a thing for Christmas in Scotland, you see."

"Is that so? What else do ye have a thing for?"

"Probably a lot of other stuff," she whispered, clutching her handbag in front of her. "But I'm having difficulty thinking of them right this minute."

"And why is that?" God, she's breathtakingly beautiful.

"I guess I'm still rattled by that near fall." She shrugged her shoulders, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Or have you forgotten all about that already?"

Jamie couldn't stop his grin. "No, not at all." In his periphery, he saw his brother and Claire's friend chatting. He wondered if he could whisk Claire away. This lass is something else. She wasn't staying here for very long, and he wanted to get to know her and make every second count.

He cleared his throat. "Look, Sassenach ..."

"Sassenach?"

He felt heat glid at the back of his neck. "Sorry ... it's a Gaelic word. It means an outsider or someone from not around here. In case ye misunderstood, it's not my intention to make it sound like ye're not welcome here. Let's just say I meant it as a pet name. Endearment, if ye will."

He regarded her as her eyes searched his face, and she made no effort at all to hide her perusal of his lips. When a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, and her eyes lit up into a wicked glint, his chest expanded a hundred-fold. "I like the sound of that ...Sassenach," she breathed as she rolled the Gaelic word in her tongue.

"Mmm, so, you're from London, huh?"

She shoved her hands in the back pocket of her jeans and rocked back on her heels. "Yeah. I'm originally from Oxford. But I live and work in London as an editorial assistant for a publishing company. How about you? What do you do, besides playing shinty?"

"I'm a tree surgeon. My brother and I run an arboricultural business."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, wow! I've never met a tree surgeon before. So I guess you must love your job to make it into a business?"

"Aye, I do," he smiled, basking in her open interest in his life. "I love the outdoors and the fresh air, whatever the weather. How about ye? Do ye like yer job?"

She paused and frowned in contemplation. "It's alright," she shrugged. "It's a job that will bring me closer to fulfilling a dream, I guess. I want to be a fulltime writer one day ..."

It was his turn to be surprised. "Maybe ye should move to the countryside if ye want to be a writer. Far too many distractions in London, don't ye think?"

She grinned. "Yeah, I suppose so. But I'm enjoying London at the moment, and I'm not quite ready to give up the city life. Just yet. Maybe one day." She glanced at her watch. "Umm ...you must have somewhere to go."

He wasn't ready to let her walk away, so he forced a worried cast into his face. "Eh, ye look still shaken up. We should probably get ye something stiff to drink ...and my phone number."

Her eyes widened, and after a tense split second, laughter burst out of her lips, loud enough to turn heads in their vicinity. She brought her hand over her mouth to stifle the giggle but failed. The sound was so infectious, his own low rumble accompanied it, and he couldn't help but think, there's never been a time he felt such a powerful connection with another person.

"Actually I'm with my mate here," Claire said finally, jerking a thumb over her shoulder and twisting around to the direction of where her friend stood. "She's my French flatmate. But it looks like she's already found someone to talk to." She paused and squinted her eyes. "Oh ...I recognise that bloke she's with. He played shinty too, didn't he?"

He waved at Willie and signalled him and Claire's friend to come over. "Aye, that's my older brother."

Claire's gaze shot right back to him. "Really?" With a smile that showed off perfect teeth, she pushed her specs higher on her nose. "I wouldn't have thought. I don't have a sibling, and I just presumed your whole family would have the same gorgeous auburn hair like yours. Well, alright ..." She crimsoned to her hairline as she looked at his approaching brother. "I see some similarities now ...height, broad shoulders and the colour of your eyes."

Jamie felt a pinch of unease. Even though her vivacity was endearing, he wasn't ready to feel drawn to anyone this deeply or to care at such an alarming rate and intensity. After his last relationship broke down, there hadn't been anyone that piqued his interest ...until now. And she would be leaving in a few days. Chatting to her was only meant to be a night of enjoying the company of a beautiful lass or perhaps a diversion in whom he could lose himself into for a short time. But the moment he'd looked into her eyes, warm feelings drove into his heart while burning urges grew low in his tummy. This lass was a breath of fresh air and sexy and exactly what he needed. He mentally shook his head to clear his brain. Looking beyond the top of her head, he blurred the image of seeing this as something more. The long-distance relationship was a no-go. He was a country lad at heart, and she belonged to the city.

"Jamie?" She was staring at him as if he'd lost some of his ability to think clearly.

"I'm sorry ...still listening. It's just that I'm not used to a beautiful lass pointing out my physical attributes," he reassured her with a smile.

That beautiful blush blew across her face again. Jamie found it adorable. How could she be direct and shy at the same time? "I didn't mean to sound so bold. It must have something to do with me living in the city for so long ...you know, us Londoners tend to have no filters."

He winked at her. "Dinnae fash, lass. I kinda like it." And he meant it.

She was about to respond when Willie and Claire's friend reached them, huge smiles painted across their faces like they'd hit it off.

The blonde girl took a step forward towards Jamie. "Hi! Claire and I enjoyed watching you guys play shinty earlier. I didn't realise it would be so aggressively physical. By the way, I'm Annalise," she smiled warmly, holding out her hand.

Jamie took it. "Aye, that it is and difficult to play when the grounds are too soggy. It could get pretty messy in this dreich weather." He shook her hand. "I'm Jamie ...please to meet ye."

"Likewise," Annalise replied, glancing at her friend.

Willie introduced himself to Claire, then brought his attention to their situation. "Looks like yer glasses are empty, ladies. Can we invite ye both to join us for a drink?"

Jamie saw Annalise elbow Claire with a conspiratorial look. When Claire nodded, Annalise batted her eyes at his brother. "Sure. That would be nice. I'd like a vodka and tonic please."

Willie grinned like he'd just received an early Christmas present and Jamie understood the feeling.

"Sassenach, what would ye like to drink?"

Before Claire could reply, Hugh, one of the lads in his shinty team, tapped her on the shoulder. "It's ye against me now, lass."

Claire swung around and looked at the cue stick being handed to her, and her eyes lit. Turning back to Jamie, she grinned. "This won't take long, but I'll have a single malt, neat, please." Then she stood on her tiptoes and gave him a peck on the cheek. "This is for good luck."

He froze. It was an innocent kiss, but it packed quite a punch.

"Oh ...and yeah, it's a belated thank you again for breaking my fall," she quickly added, suddenly, appearing unsure like she doubted the gesture.

A slow grin roused to form on his lips. "Ye can thank me by going out with me ...tonight," he said, without thinking.

She blinked.

"I'd like to show ye something."

Her brows wrinkled as she studied his face.

"I'd really like to get to know ye better and take ye out," he said. "Please allow me." If she said no, he was quite certain he was going to beg.

"Alright."

He smiled as relief surged through him. "I'll wait for you until ye finish yer game," he said. "We'll leave after we've had a drink with my brother and yer friend."

"Where are you taking me?"

"Somewhere Christmassy."

She gave him a wary look, and he laughed.

"Listen." He leaned in close. "I'll get yer friend to take a picture of my driving licence if that will make ye feel better."

He was about to pull out his wallet to retrieve it when she stopped him with a wave of a hand. "I trust you."

"That's a good start."

She rolled her eyes and laughed, and he couldn't tear his eyes away from her.

Slowly backing away from him, she smiled. "Let me play this one game first, and then I'll be with you."

With his heart in his throat, he watched her progress as she walked towards the pool table and swapped a few quick words with her opponent, who seemed to be humouring her. After the lively exchange, Claire pulled up the sleeves of her sweater to her elbow and rubbed her hands together. Before she began chalking the cuestick, she gave him a wink. That mere display made the muscles in his belly clench, literally whooshing the breath out of him.

A slap on his back tore his gaze away from Claire. "Easy now lad," Willie said in a low, amused voice. "Ye look like ye could use the same drink as her."

Jamie glanced back at the subject of their conversation. "Aye, but make mine a double," he whispered.

"On it," Willie replied, laughing as he walked off.

What the bloody hell? He should be withdrawing himself away from this attraction because this mad instant bond between them was like an overloaded electrical fuse, capable of incinerating him alive. He'd already learnt his lesson from his last relationship. He'd been there and done that, but yet he didn't have the will to stop himself from finding out how their connection would play out.

Oh, Christ, this is bad. So, so bad, I'm in so much big trouble. Taking a huge sigh, he found himself a stool nearest to the pool table and watched Claire steal the show from the best snooker player in Broch Mordha.

#melodyheart #all I want for christmas is you #claire beauchamp #jamie fraser #Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser #outlanderfanfic

80 notes · View notes

ponds-of-ink · 3 years

Text

Quick Setback Drabble Thing: “Fooled by Footwork”

Vanny sashayed as a smoky voice resounded in her earphones. It was her day off from Fazbear’s, thanks to some intern messing up the production line. Which meant, for her, more time to practice in that bunny costume. Today was a movement check with and without the mask on. Right now, she was on the no-mask section.

Glitchtrap watched her with the most exasperated expression. “Vanny, I have a feeling you’re trying to trick me somehow,” he said, putting a hand to his eyes. “The music sounds like something I would enjoy, but I know that melody from anywhere. It’s that… sweet-talking one, isn’t it?”

Vanny stopped her sidestep dance and looked at her frustrated coach. “The ‘sweet-talking’ one?” she repeated, putting her hands on her hips. “What song are you talking about?”

Glitchtrap flickered. “Y-you know, th-the…” he began, but his memory failed him. What was the title of it again? Or what did he even call it? “Th-the ‘Spring-Bonnie’ one,” he stammered, finally remembering a nickname. ”Not the actual Spring-Bonnie tune, you know—“

Vanny’s eyes instantly lit up. “Ohh!” she called out before giggling. “That one. Well, why don’t we find out?” She walked over to the little plush rabbit and put the earphones in its cloth ears. All was quiet until the music kicked in. Glitchtrap looked startled, then completely conflicted. It was that little radio-charts number he so utterly despised, but the way it was performed in that old-style swing…

As Glitch contemplated his taste in music, Vanny scooped up the plush and danced with it. She focused on her “partner” and pretended it was Glitch for fun. “My, Mr. Trap, your footwork is wonderful this evening,” she smiled jokingly. “Did you take lessons from the real Spring-Bonnie? You make his moves so look easy and light!”

Glitchtrap snapped out of his trance. He scoffed at the imaginary pair. “That’s because Spring-Bonnie was a genuinely ‘hefty’ rabbit while your ‘friend‘ has his legs floating in mid-air,” he sneered, half-playing along and half-offended. “What you need is a mix between the two. Someone not too light to miss his beat and not too heavy to unintentionally tip you over.”

Vanny paused. “And who would that be?” she asked, hiding a laugh.

”Who do you think?” Glitch sniggered. He stepped to the rabbit plush and tapped its head. Instantly, the song reset to the half-way point. He tapped a foot rhythmically until it felt right to jump in. Like a three-way tango, he tried to shadow ”Mr. Trap‘s” moves until Vanny dropped her partner. Obviously, Vanny was not going to make such a mistake so easily. They silently ‘quarreled’ with their moves until something unexpected happened.

Glitch, far too deep into the dance to even notice, somehow shifted his appearance into a mix of the animatronic Spring-Bonnie and himself. He only realized it when he spotted the plush dropped onto the floor and the way Vanny eagerly received him as her partner. Thankfully, this was right as the song was nearing its close. “I really didn‘t know that I could do this,” he sputtered, tugging his now-larger vest in disbelief. “I knew I unlocked some shape-shifting capability thanks to that party on the 8th, but…”

“You didn’t expect to turn into Spring-Bonnie’s younger brother,” Vanny finished, picking up the plush from off the carpet and brushing off any debris. “I guess that’s why you never liked that song until now. It always brought out a different side of you.”

”If you mean the side of me that is easily embarrassed, sure,” Glitchtrap shrugged, returning to his ’natural’ form. “I think we’ll call this part of the test done. I think I’ll even say that you’ve already passed your deception test, so long as you don’t bring this little incident up to anyone in your ‘special friend’ group.”

”No promises,“ Vanny grinned slyly.

Glitchtrap sighed. He knew that was coming. “I’ll allow that,” he said with his buck teeth gritted. ”Now, go ahead and take a break. We’re both going to need one after what just happened.”

Vanny nodded and placed the toy down. She removed the earphones from its ears and carried them in her hand as she left the room. Her humming was the last thing Glitch heard as he teleported away. Who knew that one song could cause such a quick escalation?

#fnaf setback saga #glitchtrap #fnaf vanny #blame postmodern jukebox for this one #check them out if you haven’t already #i just got inspired by one of their covers #hee hee #more dancing Glitchtrap go brrr #fnaf security breach #drabble

7 notes · View notes

clxser · 2 years

Text

〔 mary elizabeth winstead, 42, cis woman, she/her ) bonnie chamberlain was seen listening to smalltown boy by bronski beat. bonbon is a comedienne & tv personality and known to be witty & reclusive. ( rosie, 22, gmt, she/they )

further information under the cut;

TW: Homophobia, mentions of bipolar, unhealthy family dynamics

BASIC INFORMATION:

FULL NAME: Bonnie Margaret Chamberlain

NICKNAME(S): Bon-Bon, if you want her to hate you.

BIRTH DATE: June 22nd

AGE: 42

ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: Cancer

GENDER: Cis woman

PRONOUNS: She/Her

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Homoromantic

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Homosexual

OCCUPATION: Former comedian, current TV writer & host

BACKGROUND:

BIRTH PLACE: Alberta, Canada

HOMETOWN: Alberta, Canada

PARENTS: Jebediah Smythe, Evangeline Smythe

SIBLING(S): 2, neither of which she still considers family

CHILDREN: Daughter (Unnamed WC)

PET(S): 4 dogs - Annora, Anahita, Euphemia (all newfies) and Meatball (the husky)

OTHER IMPORTANT RELATIVES: Her inlaws.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE & CHARACTERISTICS:

FACE CLAIM: Mary Elizabeth Winstead

EYE COLOR: Brown

HAIR COLOR: Brown

GLASSES/CONTACTS?: Reading glasses

DOMINANT HAND: Right

HEIGHT: 5’6”

BUILD: Slender, rectangle

TATTOOS: None

PIERCINGS: Several on her ears

MARKS/SCARS: N/A

NOTABLE FEATURES: N/A

PERSONALITY TRAITS:

POSITIVE: Observant, witty, analytical

NEGATIVE: Sardonic, reclusive, gloomy

ALIGNMENT: True neutral

MBTI: INFJ-A

TEMPERMENT: Phlegmatic

EXTRAS:

HOBBIES: Reading, journaling, hiking

HIDDEN TALENT(S): If she had any more, she’d be using them.

BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT: Making it into a writer’s room

BIGGEST REGRET: Not proposing sooner

MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT: Any of the pageants she was forced to compete in.

FAVORITE MEMORY: Her wedding.

BIOGRAPHY:

Bonnie became convinced while she was still young that she was born in the wrong family. She could remember picking at her dinner over the table while her mom chuckled through a story of her, kicking and screaming through tears as she tried to force her into a ballgown. In the end, she got the dress on, but little Bonnie wouldn’t go on that stage in heels. She had to have her sneakers on, her makeup also needed doing at least 3 times, but for all that crying, she never won a thing! Thank goodness her little sister came along to take up the mantle. They got a full trophy case, and Bonnie got to rest.

She was just the smart, sensible type, her father said. She was a good girl, the kind he could proudly have by his side as he gave his sermons each Sunday; she wasn’t flashy, or determined to make a tartish spectacle of herself. This would stop all of the laughter dead, and result in the rest of dinner culminating in tense silence, but that was just fine. That was how Bonnie spent her early years anyway.

St. Paul was a town for people like her family. Retired beauty queens turned home-makers and preachers made the rules, while aspiring quarterbacks and darling daughters were set to inherit them. There wasn’t much room for Bonnie, and whether their intentions were good or not, they all liked to let her know that. Her interests were weird, she was too quiet, and not quite pretty enough to get away with it. The unremarkable one. That was fine by her.

High school gave a glimmer of hope. She liked her classes, and her teachers liked her. Most surprising of all was her 10th grade English teacher, who gave her detailed feedback and encouragement on every short story she turned in. Then was theatre, something she briefly got involved in - first it was a few pitches she made on the delivery for some of her classmates in their production of Much Ado About Nothing, which led to her theatre teacher incorporating her ideas, which culminated in her being requested to stand in as Don Pedro when the original actor had to back out last minute. She got to the stage of tech rehearsals, and loved every second of it, before her brother saw fit to tell their parents she was playing a boy in the school play. Aghast, they stormed into the principal’s office, and quickly killed that dream, along with any connections she’d made with the theatre kids at her school when her parents made enough of a stink to have the production cancelled altogether.

There was talk of pulling her out to be homeschooled, because she might be on the path to deviancy, but Bonnie thankfully managed to talk her parents out of it. The bargain was that she could stay, if she just tried a little harder to be normal. One more shot at pageants, her mom said, much to her little sister’s devastation - she hadn’t turned out so homely, maybe she had a shot.

Bonnie didn’t win that pageant, but she did have her first kiss backstage when everybody else had already cleared out with her fellow competitor. Another girl.

They never spoke again. They were too shit-scared to. Going to different schools made that easy enough, but every now and then Bonnie would spot her around town, in the midst of a bustling group of happy, normal friends, even though their eyes would lock every time. They shared a terrifying secret, after all, and that was the only time they could make sure the other wasn’t giving it away.

She ignored that, of course. She wanted to stay at school and keep writing, to polish that craft and get 8 blissful hours of freedom from her parents every weekday. She wanted to gun it for college, and never look back. In her junior year, she won a short story contest that she never told anybody she entered, which helped her to get there. Apparently, it was a huge part of her scholarship to the University of Toronto, which was a huge part of the reason her parents let her go.

The countdown to moving in was excruciating, and process of actually doing so was tortuous. Her parents muttered and griped with each trip to and from the car about all the “freaks” they saw around, especially that girl across the hall. The one with the wild hair and the sparkly eyes who already had music playing in her dorm, who smiled and laughed with her parents as they carried their boxes to and fro. With very firm instructions not to get mixed up with people like that, finally, her parents left.

Bonnie opened up to the world slowly. She went to her classes and kept her head and hand down, she sat near people who looked like they were having fun and tried to imagine doing the same. She watched the beautiful, wild girl from across the hall, who’s name turned out to be Margaret and liked to hang around in their hall’s kitchen while she cooked. They talked, and gradually, Bonnie thawed.

She didn’t realise they were friends until Margaret said so, and she didn’t realise she was friends with her friends until she apologised for interrupting their hang-out, only to be told she had to stay. It didn’t make sense - she was boring compared to them, quiet and gloomy, she brought nothing to the table. That was, until she got the confidence to speak. All it took was one quip, sometimes, just a little something she noticed, and she could have the whole room laughing. It was a powerful feeling. She loved it.

Suddenly, she was branching out. She knew people in her classes, people would approach and speak to her of her own free will, she’d make them laugh and they’d remember her for something other than being the least perfect person in the room.

Getting into comedy was sort of an accident. It started with a few friends from her Understanding Shakespeare class inviting her to a bar after class, only to find it was an improv night. A few weeks later, and she was on stage with them, and an obsession struck. It was one thing to make her friends laugh, but a crowd? Unreal.

It grew from there. Short stories turned to skits, which turned to sets, which turned to open mic comedy nights. They were terrifying and exhilarating, and although her start was clumsy, she had support. Not every friend could make it every week, but Margaret did. She was that little beacon of safety in the crowd, who always laughed even if her voice cracked or the delivery didn’t flow quite like she thought it would. It was during one of those sets that Bonnie realised she had found her favourite person, although what that meant for her, she didn’t know just yet.

That became a little clearer one night when they were out on the courtyard late at night, engaging in some ill-advised under-aged drinking in plain sight. Somebody made a comment about exactly how gay they were, and Bonnie spluttered over her beer, with an incredulous, “whoa, you can just say that?” This was when she found out, much to the group’s amusement, that about half of them were gay, and the other half didn’t know they were yet. When they asked which kind she was, all she could get out was a feeble, “I don’t know.”

There were ups, and there were downs. When the first few months of sheer exhilaration and heart-pounding nervousness passed, a crash followed, like somebody had robbed all the adrenaline from her at once. She had days where she could barely draw her curtains, let alone get any words out on the page, and then fear set in. The idea that one day, somehow, all of these good new things she’d gotten involved in would be taken away. It would be like that stupid play all over again.

At least Margaret was there. She would draw the blinds and drag her out of bed, and get her far, far away from everything. Somehow, she seemed to know the coolest spots, with the freshest air and the nicest views, that seemed to shock her back to life if the physical effort of getting there didn’t do the trick. It was one of those little trips, miles from anything or anyone they knew, where Bonnie finally felt brave enough to take her hand. She didn’t say anything, she wasn’t ready for that, but it was the first shift towards what she really wanted.

The first time Bonnie kissed her was after she spent the night hunched over Margaret’s bathroom sink, dying her hair a bright metallic blue and laughing along as Margaret translated and narrated one of her anime shows from the other side of the room, loud enough for Bonnie to hear. It was only when they cut it short and dried it into its new colour for the first time that she felt herself enough to go through with it.

Her first summer back home was unbearable. Every day there was a tearful fit about her hair, or an attempt to scrub it clean, and some kind of guilt-trip about what had happened to their little girl. Unwisely, she breached the subject of her sexuality over dinner with a “well, what if I was?” comment, which was resolved with a simple, “then you wouldn’t be welcome at this table, sweetie. Could you pass the potatoes?”

When they found out for real, two summers later, it turned out they really weren’t lying. Her father and brother chucked her things out from her old bedroom window while her mother bawled on their doorstep, and her little sister sneered. That was that.

Margaret’s family, gracious as they were, agreed to take her in, and that was where Bonnie learned what a family ought to look like. It was a double-edged sword, a safe and loving place to be was a reminder of what she’d never had before. As much as it saved her, it sent her spiralling. They took her worst episodes in stride, better than she deserved, and watching them try so hard to look out for her was the main push for her getting help. Being diagnosed with bipolar was a sudden blow, but when she thought back, it made unfortunate sense.

She graduated with a degree in English, and not a clue what to do with it. About a year passed, and Bonnie realised she was stagnating. Piggybacking off of Margaret and the generosity of her family started to bring more and more guilt, until she finally decided she had to give them a break and put herself out there, if she wanted any chance of making her hobbies her life’s work. Hitting the pause button with Margaret was agonising, one of the hardest things she’d ever do, but there was a bittersweet understanding between them that, some day, she’d come home.

LA was kind of crazy. Her apartment was crammed and definitely not up to code, but the city was just crazy enough to keep her busy. She worked as a barista in the day and honed her craft at night, between open mic nights and making new friends, trying to work her way into something real. It didn’t necessarily work out the way she silently hoped it would, but towards the end of her time there, she’d managed to book a small handful of even smaller paid gigs, and eventually found herself working as a writer’s assistant. It was an exhausting ride, and those low days felt lower than ever, which was the main reason it didn’t last. She had just barely wormed her way into pitching a few lines in the writer’s room when she hit her wall. Within a weekend she was all packed up, her ride was booked, and she was on her way back to Toronto.

The rest of her life started then. It wasn’t seamless - both she and Margaret had changed, and there was a lot to talk about between them, but it started to work again. Before too long they had their own place. Margaret was working towards her PHd, and in an ironic twist, Bonnie basically followed her parents’ dream for her: she doted on her at home, with meals waiting and scripts clumping together on their computer. She performed where she could in odd places, until she got her first little break on a radio show, of all things. She went from a recurring contestant to the presenter when her predecessor retired, and that was when she found her niche.

The show had a steady sort of popularity, that lent itself to progression. She found herself as a guest again, but this time on TV, in between recording sessions. The pressure that came with that was insane, and had that same push-and-pull effect on her as most changes in her life, but there was always Margaret to go home to, who would brush away those mutterings of self doubt and loathing like nothing else could.

She was nervous to propose. Apparently, the speech she gave was beautiful, although she was so blindingly nervous she couldn’t remember much other than the way her hands shook around the ring box, and ending it with, “and who wouldn’t want to be married to a doctor, right?”

Going into hosting on TV was a jump, but by the time that job opportunity landed in her lap, Bonnie was halfway convinced she deserved it. After all, she was married to the coolest woman she’d ever seen - she could do anything.

#about: ʙᴏɴɴɪᴇ #sero.intro

5 notes · View notes

banditthewriter · 4 years

Text

Trust Is Earned - Charles Vane - 10

This is it! The end of it! I wrote this fic so quickly fully expecting maybe one or two people to read it so I am just... moved and in awe of how many people have interacted with this fic. Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoy the conclusion!

Warning: Violence.

Also, check out under the tag list on this post for a surprise!

*gif not mine*

Enjoy!

------

Noise from the deck didn’t filter down to the hold, but the sound of a cannon blast did. You shrank down as if the blast would blow right through where you were, but nothing came. No crash, no explosion of wood. The blast had struck the water. Nearby, perhaps, but not close enough to do damage.

A warning shot. From who though?

You’d thought that noise didn’t filter down from the deck but it turns out that they just hadn’t been very loud. Now you could hear yells and the sound of feet thundering back and forth. The voices grew to the point that you could make out very clearly someone yelling that there were two ships.

Hope rushed through you. You sat up and tried to strain your hearing for more. It was fairly quiet for a while to the point that the hope started to be dashed.

Gun shots. You swore and ducked down again even though you knew you were fairly safe where you were. At least you didn’t hear anymore—

The blast of a cannon broke that chain of thought, but it sounded like it came from the ship you were in. The other ships would have to return fire if only to protect themselves. A glancing shot here could tear a hole into the side of the ship where it would start taking on water. You started to make as many mental contingencies as you could.

You needed to be prepared for anything.

The ship seemed to shudder under you in a flash, causing you to crash into the bars of the cell. Was it a cannon blast that you missed? Then, as if to answer your question, the noise went higher. In it all, screams became more clear. It sounded like even more gunfire and even swords clashing.

The vanguard. The ship you were on had been boarded. Whether it was friendlies or not, you still didn’t know, but at least there was a possibility.

Stomping came in your direction and you looked at the door in anticipation. When it was flung open, the captain of The Tempest stormed in. He shut the door behind him but he didn’t have time to lock it before it was kicked open.

Behind the door was the best thing you’d ever seen. Covered in blood and holding an even bloodier sword stood Charles Vane. Behind him you could make out Lucky and Flint.

You nearly sagged in relief. Right then you knew that you were safe. The two ships mentioned had to be The Ranger and The Walrus. There was no way The Tempest could survive that.

No way this captain could survive it.

As Charles stormed forward, you quickly darted a hand out of the cell to get his attention.

“Charles, wait, don’t,” you called until he turned to look at you. “Get me out of here and then I’ll explain.”

He didn’t seem happy with that but he didn’t argue with you. While he kept his sword pointed at the unarmed captain, Flint and Lucky came over to get you out by busting the lock on the cell. Once you were out, you stepped past the two men and went over to Charles.

“Now?”

You reached out and wrapped your hand around where his hand was, pulling the sword from him. There was barely any change on his face, but you could see by the way his eyebrows furrowed that he was confused.

You were about to clear that up for him.

When you turned to the captain, you could see that his shoulders weren’t as tense. He looked at you, his mouth open and gratitude spilling from his lips.

With as much strength as you could muster, you thrust the sword into the man’s throat. Blood sprayed out and onto your nightgown but you didn’t even notice. All you did was kneel down so that you could look him in the eye as he choked on the blood that spilled from his mouth and throat.

“That was for Pope,” you said with such force that he flinched back, causing further damage to his wound.

There was no surviving that. Satisfied that your own debt had been paid, you stood up and turned around to face the men in the room. Flint looked impressed. Lucky had a look of gratefulness and respect. And Charles…

Looked a lot like he wanted to kick everyone else out of the room and have his way with you.

“Can we leave? I really want to go back home.”

As one the three men spread out so that you could walk through them, Charles at your back. His hand went to the small of your back to lead you and you took comfort in the touch.

On deck you saw that most of The Tempest crew had been killed. You wished you could feel bad for it but you were unable to. You looked around for the familiar faces of the two crews and even found the rest of your crew waiting for you.

“Thought you’d never get on a ship again,” you teased Emmett as you approached them.

“For you ma’am? We’d sail the seven seas.”

You greeted them each with a smile and your hand. Each one shook it before they pressed their lips to it, a show of respect and loyalty that made tears gather in your eyes.

“As nice as this all is, what do we do with The Tempest? Sink her?”

You looked over at Jack and smiled at him, earning a grin back. Anne rolled her eyes but even she had a small smile for you.

“Not while we’re on her,” Flint said as he looked to either side where the two ships were. “Let’s clear off. Take anything of worth. We’ll commit the rest to the sea.”

You didn’t even bother pretending to think about which ship you’d go to as you turned towards The Ranger. Not that you’d have much choice since Charles was there to escort you that way. He walked you over the bodies of the fallen Tempest men, across the board, and then through his ship to the captain’s quarters.

“How’d you find me?”

He led you over to the desk and sat you down, checking over you to make sure that you weren’t injured. The only injury that you had was where you were cracked in the head by a pistol but it was just tender to the touch with some dried blood in your hair.

“One of your crew recognized one of your abductors as a crew member of The Tempest. Once we knew that, we got Eleanor Guthrie to give us their course. Not sure why they decided to drop anchor here, but it was easy to find them.”

“He said they were meeting a man who he was going to sell me to as a slave. I was going to be brought to the colonies.”

You didn’t bother telling him that the captain had threatened you with how horrible it would be for you. It could be seen on your face.

Charles reached out and grabbed your chin gently to make you look at him.

“That’ll never happen. I’m going to keep you safe.”

You thought about the captain in the hold of his ship, soon to be fired upon until it sank. There was a hole in his throat where you had thrusted Charles’s sword, hope dashed from his face as he died.

“I’m going to become able to protect myself,” you declared right then and there, a promise between the two of you. “I’m tired of being scared of what might happen. I want to learn.”

You could see pride on his face as he stared at you.

“You will.”

------

“Drink?”

You looked over at Charles as he rolled over to grab a bottle of rum from beside his pallet on the floor of his tent. You shook your head as you tugged a thin sheet over your naked form.

“No, I don’t really drink,” you admitted as you shifted on your side to watch him. “I’m a lightweight but I don’t particularly like not being able to remember what I’ve said or done.”

He laughed as he rolled over, taking a swig from the bottle as he did.

“That makes sense,” he said as he put the bottle on the floor above his head.

You narrowed your eyes as you looked him over, trying not to get distracted by all the naked skin before you.

“What do you mean? I haven’t had a drink since I met you.”

It was his turn to turn on his side. As he did, his hair fell off his chest and revealed the brand on his chest. You’d noticed it earlier when the two of you started to remove each other’s clothes, but you hadn’t thought anything of it. He’d told you on the short journey back to Nassau about his past with slavery so you’d known it was there. But now you were looking at it, you were sure you’d seen it before.

Not just any version of it though. You remembered this exact brand. Braids tickling your chest as someone moved above you. A deep raspy voice asking you what you wanted him to do.

“You!” You gasped it out as you covered your mouth. “It was you that night at the inn, wasn’t it? And you’ve known this entire time?”

He laughed as he grabbed the hand over your mouth, pressing a kiss to the palm.

“I didn’t know you didn’t remember. I thought you just wanted to ignore it.”

You remembered how you felt when you learned he hadn’t realized that the kiss hadn’t been a dream. Now you knew what it felt like to be on that end of things.

That night you’d slept with someone, some of the best sex you couldn’t remember, it had been Charles. Like fate was pulling strings and laughing at her own jokes, she had thrown the two of you together before you’d even realized what it was you wanted.

“I’m so embarrassed. I can’t believe I didn’t remember you,” you said with a bit of a self deprecating laugh as you tucked your face into his chest.

“Will you remember it this time?”

You pinched his arm before you leaned up to kiss him, not caring that the sheet fell from your body. How could you possibly care about that when you had him with you?

------

Wind whipped through your hair as you sat on a barrel on the deck of The Ranger. Anne and Jack were sword fighting, your attention on how Anne moved as you tried to commit it to memory. She had been training you how to fight and to be trained by Anne Bonny was an honor.

Even Jack was reluctant to pick on you now.

When the pair started to argue about particulars of the fight, you shook your head and walked off towards the railing. The two of them were known for fighting for hours before they ran off to fuck and make up. Instead of watching their strange form of foreplay, you decided to watch the ocean rush by.

Your hands on the rail, you tried to think of all the changes you’d gone through in the past few months. Your shop was being watched by your crew except Lucky who stayed with you while you sailed with The Ranger. And here you were on a pirate ship, sailing into the unknown on a hunt.

The wind rustled the skirt of the dress you had worked tirelessly on. It was beautiful and simple, not the dress of a pirate but not the dress of a lady. You felt like it showed the truth of who you were, who you had become in the past months.

Hands fell to your waist but you didn’t even jump. Charles liked having you at hand so you were used to being touched. His mouth brushed your cheek and then your neck before he looked out over the ocean with you.

“Imagining you’re a bird in flight?”

You smiled at the reminder as you placed your hands over his, tugging his arms more securely around you.

“No. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere but right here.”

Permanent Tag List! @hermioneshandbag @onebatch--twobatch @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @citation-is-here @mightymelly @realduckvader @hxbbit @thepuffyeyedpuff @the-three-eyed-ravenclaw @yessy2012 @gingerstarlight @siriusement @marauderskeeper @xinyourdreamsx @wickidlady @sassygirl25 @maraudereestauderelb @holamor @lea----b @coffeenmoscato @presstocontinue @elisemockingbird @assbuttwithwings @geeksareunique @witch-of-letters @delicatelilyflower @l-l-c-m-w-b @whovianayesha @hiddenprincess @yannii04 @brighteststarinthesky @kilyra @gallxntdean @sweetvengeancee @lady1505 @thedarklightwithinus @ateliefloresdaprimavera @siriuslyimmoony @elodieyung @fudgeflyss @madamrogers @thatwrestlingfan91 @teranya @sophiabulbu69 @delusionsofnostalgia @effielumiere @i-padfootblack-things @aya-fay @sergeantbuchanans @raquelbc2003 @iwishyoucouldbekissed @taman-a @newtstarmander @blushingskywalker @queencocoakimmie @funerals-with-cake @arrowswithwifi @swiftyhowlz @cheyfleur @dark-night-sky-99 @celestegolden @king4thesirens @beautifuldesastre @ashkuuuu @nerdypinupcrystal @iblogabout-stuff @curlyhairedblueeyedangel @myplaceofheavenorhell @also-fangirlinsweden @traeumerinwitzhelden @binbons-is-theloml @lostinthoughts23 @aikeia @christinawxxx @dontlwtitbreakyourheart @rhabakoli @j-finco @sweetybuzz25 @supernaturalonice @jeanettexkillian @jigsawlover10 @gollyderek @polireader @witchygagirl @carlaangel86 @listenbigfoot @hiddleless @meganlpie @arsaky-lou @angelic-kisses13 @countryday @random-quartz @peaceinourtime82 @outwicked @supernaturaldean67 @cafeconsoya @russosprettydiamondnow @yesixoxo @heyitslexy @mamaraptor @hot-and-spiceyyy @luminex3 @love-dria

@stormfire6

And, as a surprise... a little snippet of the next Charles Vane fic that I’m working on! It’s nowhere near done, but hopefully this will be enough to catch your interest for now!

***

The sand felt coarse under your feet. The top layer was warm but underneath was cool and felt nice against your skin. You walked along the edge of the water, your shoes in one hand and a handful of your dress in the other. If your parents caught you, you’d be forced to listen to a lecture for an hour or two, but you had no intention of being caught.

In the morning you would be on a ship headed out into what was to you the great unknown. It would leave from a port in Virginia and, after a few other stops on the way, would take you to England. To a future you never asked for.

To a man you never asked for. Your parents thought it was a good match but you didn’t agree. Mostly because you’d never met the man, couldn’t even recall his name.

A marriage for love was never in your cards, but this? To be auctioned off to the highest bidder and shipped across the world to a country you hadn’t stepped foot in since you were an infant?

It was unimaginable.

You would be given into the care of your aunt and uncle in England and they would see you married off to the man your parents had picked for you. They didn’t even care enough to see their only daughter married in person. All they cared about was that it was done in a timely manner and that you did what you were told.

You’d spent your whole life doing what you were told. You were tired of it. You never expected to have a life of adventure and freedom, but you felt like you were being shackled.

From the distance you heard your name called by someone from the household. You sighed as you sat down in the sand to put your shoes back on.

In the morning you would be thrust into a world not of your choosing. You had just wanted to enjoy the last bit of your independence while you still had time.

It seemed that the time had passed.

Keep a look out for... Eye of the Hurricane

#charles vane #charles vane x reader #charles vane imagine #charles vane fanfic #black sails imagine #my writing #trust is earned

128 notes · View notes