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albino-whumpee · 3 years

Text

The Master´s party

A little teaser for you.

A grin quirked the man´s lips up when he held his chin in a bruising grip. Sann let out a pathetic yelp as the man pulled his face closer to his.

“You´re an awful liar”

(This one´s long, just heads up for that and just so you know what Albus is taking about at the end, read Of secrets and memories )

This is a series, here´s the Masterlist

Taglist: @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @giggly-evil-puppy @cowboysrappin @haro-whumps @burtlederp @neuro-whump @comfortforthepain @whumps-the-word @whole-and-apart-and-between @broken-horn @ashintheairlikesnow @rosesareviolentlyread @starnight-whump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @as-a-matter-of-whump @whumpasaurus101 @grizzlie70 @twistedcaretaker

TW// Dehumanization, slavery, all the box boy jazz, past abuse, shock collars, defiant whumpee, torture, past abuse, conditioning, anxiety, desrealization, humilliation and dissoci@tion.

The invitation came in a golden envelope.

Albus silently waited for Zarai to read it. He didn´t expect her face to turn from taciturn to horror in the split of a second.

“Absolutely not” she shouted, taking her phone and furiously typing a number as she walked to the studio. Albus glanced at Momo who meowed to be fed.

He was petting the cat while it ate, when he saw Zarai steaming from rage and straightened up in instinct, bracing for a hit that never came.

Zarai let out a loud groan before putting her phone back on the table with a slam that made Albus jump. Slowly his muscles relaxed as he watched the woman rub her temples. He waited a second, just to be sure.

“I can’t believe it. They’re nuts!” She shot her hands up suddenly “Uniform etiquette? That’s- I don’t even know where to start on how wrong that is!” She continued before exhaling a loud, long sigh.

Albus extended her coffee and gulped when he saw her drink it in one go. “I-Is there something wrong with mistress Heleba’s party, ma’am?” He ventured, catching her attention and glad it didn´t come off as misbehaving. She had simply let her chin rest on her hand as she stared at the envelope.

“They want pets to attend the party with uniforms”

Albus frowned. Wasn´t that normal?

“Would ma´am prefer me to stay then?” he tried, picking up the cup to clean it. He knew she wasn´t exactly a fan of pets in the first place, but her discomfort was aimed more at their owners, so a party with too many of them around? He could smell her complaints from miles.

Albus was surprised to hear her sigh instead.

“No, I need you there. I wanted you to meet other potential clients and the agencies we will form partnership bonds with in the future. Especially Dune´s executives, but…” she tapped the envelope with bottled anger. His eyes drifted down to the letter.

“Pets are required to use shock collars as uniform etiquette and security measures to our dear guests”

The man at the party´s reception told Zarai as Albus lifted his chin. The man´s partner putting the leather white collar on Zarai´s hand, as the other checked the electrodes against his neck.

Ah, what a familiar sensation, he thought to himself.

“Is it really necessary? He´s not dangerous…” She asked putting the leather collar on her purse with a deep frown on her face.

“Orders from above ma’am” the security guard limited himself to answer.

Zarai whipped her head back at the boy when she heard the buckles click. His hands twitched but he clasped them tightly over his lap, directing a small smile at his owner.

“It´s fine ma´am. Is just a security measure” he said, but a lump formed on his throat when he saw the remote. Squeezing his wrists tight, he held back the impulse to take the collar off himself.

“This button allows you control the intensity and this one is to make it shoot the electricity. Like this” It was already on the lowest voltage so when the man pressed the button, the collar’s box little LED lights turned red for a second as a short wheeze was forced out of Albus.

You forced me to do this 778900. You keep trying to run off somewhere… Don’t be so impatient. Someone will buy you, eventually. This is for your own good.

Zarai yanked the remote from the man “Enough!” He stared at her in confusion as Albus caught his breath. “There was no need for a demonstration” she shot a glare at the man who offered an apologetic smile before she walked away, dragging the boy with her by the arm. “C’mon, Claude will be waiting inside” she whispered, not expecting to not hear a reply. She stopped a few steps away, noticing Albus trembling figure. She looked around the sea of people and dragged both to a small spot besides the pet’s bathroom.

“Can…can you lift your neck Albus?” The boy complied without fighting. Almost robotically. He blinked surprised, however, when he felt her fingers searching for something on his neck. “There” she said with a triumphant click. “They never said anything about it being on” she said, putting the remote into his own hands “I don´t have a use for this. Keep it hidden for me, would you?” she smiled.

Albus eyes softened as he clenched his hand on the remote. “Thank you ma’am”.

Zarai recomposed after giving him a short squeeze on the shoulder “Let´s go. I don´t want to be here more than necessary. Oh, Claude!” she said, calling the doctor talking with some businesswoman and waving at him as Albus hid the remote on his coat´s pocket.

—-

“Mister Serra! I-I didn´t know” some of the guests told him upon seeing the collar on his neck. He was glad none of the people he considered close was there to see him sport the tag he had tried so very hard to keep hidden.

“I apologize for the confusion” he would say in a bow.

“A pet that can read and work, quite unheard of” a man with a funny mustache said reflexively. Albus recognized him from the archives Zarai had made him memorize about the party´s guests. The vice-president of the adjacent company of the many, Rupert Glass owned. “Pretty interesting tactic from Miss Montenegro to keep your status hidden. Never understood her very well… I might try buy one like you. Normal pets are mostly just for show and I want one that can be useful” he said brushing Albus from head to toe. The boy knew better than to keep his eyes at the same level and shyly let down his gaze.

He wished they could go back home soon.

Even if Zarai treated him well, for most of the attendants he was at the same level of importance as the fine glass on their hands.

A luxury they could afford to break.

They only didn´t because it wasn´t theirs. He, wasn´t theirs. It would be rude if they injured or broke someone else´s property. But they didn´t shy from dragging around by a leash their half-naked, bruised pets.

Some of their eyes nailed on him with anger, but quickly lifted up at their owners pull on their necks.

Albus could still feel the glares the other pets shot at him and tilted his head only to catch a glimpse of light brown hair. Sann was wearing a tuxedo with a white rose on his chest. But as soon as he spotted him, Sann disappeared into the sea of people taking Albus´ breath with him. “I…It has been a pleasure to meet you Mister Darcy, but I must attend some…matters. Miss Zarai gives you her greeting and wishes you good health” he said, offering his hand to stretch. The older man only gave it a look before wrinkling his nose.

“I don´t handshake pets” he said. Albus backed his hand slowly.

“Excuse me. Thank you for your time, sir” he bowed as he had learnt back on the facility before he dismissed him with a flick of his hand.

He quickly walked away to scan the crowd, not finding the freckled boy among them. He tried searching by the special drink fountain for pets in the back, next to the bathrooms. It only served water and tasteless crackers. A clear contrast with the tables overflowing with delicious looking pastries and varied choices of drinks for their masters. But he wasn´t there or at tables, laying his head on Robert´s knees either.

The man sat with another man, carding his fingers through a shivering girl´s hair sitting by his knees with a charming smile on. Albus backed away slowly when the girl convulsed forward and the man next to Robert laughed along him.

He thought maybe he had imagined him, when he felt a tug on his neck.

“Hey, this one´s collar´s turned off” a man with a security uniform told his partner. The man tightened his grip around Albus´ wrist

“What? Did it turn it off?” the man harshly made Albus whip his head to a side. A whimper escaped his lungs. “Ugh, delicate pet alert” He slapped him repeatedly “Did you turn off your collar? Thought you could get away with it? Do you want us to tell your owner what you did? Hm?”

“N-No, no sir” Albus heaved as both men laughed like jackals “Please, let me explain-Ah!” The man holding him twisted his arms to his back.

“Stay, boy, stay. Don´t make us hurt you more than necessary” He yanked his head up so his partner had free way to the collar. He heard it click on again “What a good boy” he cooed, wrapping a zip tie around his wrists “We can´t let this slip, though. We got to tell your owner” he said, holding his head down by the neck and forcing him to walk.

The man roughly shoved him to his knees besides the guard station, a few steps away from the entrance. His breathing got shallow as his eyes darted through the crowd trying to find the familiar black long hair and the blue suit of her partner.

He saw the man talking to the microphone to announce him as if he was a lost child on a supermarket. No. It was more similar to the announcement of a lost wallet.

People stared at him with indignation. Pets stared with apologetic looks before they clung to their master´s arms.

He pulled his knees closer to his chest.

It was like he was back at the facility. Being disciplined in front of other trainees because his handlers were getting bored of him. Getting pushed to the front at the smallest inconvenience to make an example out of him to encourage the others to follow every order their handlers gave them through his own tearing screams.

He felt hands on his shoulders and jerked back so hard he banged his head against the wall.

“It´s me Albus, I´m sorry for scaring you” Zarai said, helping him up as a few spots invaded his sight “Didn´t expect this to happen…I´m sorry” she whispered as he felt the release of the zip tie on his wrists. He rubbed his bruising wrists, which infuriated the woman. “What´s the meaning of this?” She yelled at the guards.

One of them sighed “Ma´am, this is just standard procedure. It shouldn´t leave marks. Maybe albinos bruise too easily”

Albus heard those words and his brain turned off.

Everything was below a thick curtain of fog, the sounds were slurred and his limbs moved involuntarily. It was like living a dream. Was he actually awake? He didn´t know.

He felt his legs walk, his mouth speak and his hand write as Zarai talked. But he wasn´t sure if it was real. He wasn´t sure if the people around him were really there.

Their voices sounded as if they were underwater. Unclear and foggy. A fog, thick as a veil covered the world around him as he walked. After a while, he suddenly found himself leaning against a wall. Just hearing the noise of conversations on the distance, when he allowed himself to wrap his arms around his knees on the floor of a balcony.

He tried to pull air into his suddenly too tight chest.

He hated it.

He hated not knowing why exactly those words put him off like that. Having the feeling he hated to hear it in a certain specific voice. He hated the laughter inside his head that filled his senses. He buried his head in his arms.

“Fuck off” he hissed, not expecting to feel a hand on his back.

He jumped up when he saw Sann on his tuxedo, letting out a lame squeak that made the other grin.

The boy stood up “Sorry…” Sann signed with a frown, his hands twitching in front of his chest as if wanting to say something else but not knowing how, he only stared at him.

Albus waited, just in case, before he looked away and set his eyes on the city “Don´t be, you just surprised me” He opened his mouth and then closed it with a sigh “I´m sorry… Just...give me a second” he said, biting his lip when Sann held his hand.

He brushed his thumbs against his pale hand as if saying “It´s ok, just breathe”

Albus made his lips a fine line before letting it out.

“I might always say hello with food, but you always try to hold my hand” he said in a half giggle, squeezing on Sann´s hand slightly tighter. A smile came to his face and somehow, couldn´t shake it away.

“…Can we stay like this for a bit?” he asked, feeling the fog on his head dissipate slowly.

“Yes” Sann signed before curling his fingers around Albus´ hand.

Albus looked above at the night sky feeling the warmth of the boy´s hand leak into his before he took a deep breath. Despite the sound of the party inside where most likely Zarai was searching for him, it melted with the usual sounds of the city and the rumble of the sea in the distance. He let out his breath slowly, calm settling on his chest.

He wondered since when he had started to feel that way around the other boy. The other pet looked at the cars below with a little smile hanging on his lips. His hair was mussed up, pulled back in a way that framed his face and made his features pop. The sleek attire with the rose delicately set on his chest, was a look that couldn´t be ruined even by the shock collar on his neck intermittently lighting up.

“You look stunning” the words rolled out of his mouth and didn´t notice he had said it out loud until Sann turned to him with wide eyes. He pulled his free hand to his chin to sign a thank you with an even wider smile.

“You. Too” Sann signed as the albino felt his cheeks burn and tried to hide it by fixing his glasses. He squinted when he noticed something about his hand.

“What´s this?” he asked, fishing Sann´s hand and inspecting the new pink circles around his knuckles. Cigarette burns, he identified bitterly. “What happened? A punishment?” His tone urgent as he lifted his eyes and found Sann´s smile had ran away from his face.

He shook his head.

“No? Then why…” Albus asked as Sann pulled his hand away to lean on the balcony, watching the traffic below with a lost gaze and hiding the injured hand. Albus joined him a second later “…just because?” Sann nodded with a shrug that pulled a string on his heart. Albus wondered if that was normal treatment for Sann and felt a sting of guilt.

It was a possibility to end up with an owner like that, the handlers had told them as much enough times, but Sann deserved someone better as owner. He deserved to be able to smile without fear of not looking pretty and eager enough to avoid being hurt.

The thoughts raced through his head before being interrupted when Sann looked up at the fireworks popping in the distance, putting that beautiful smile on his face yet again. He turned to him and finding his worried frown, his gray eyes softened.

He moved his hands up to sign, but then had second thoughts and simply smiled with slightly worried eyebrows.

“I´ll be fine” Albus could almost hear him say as he pointed his head at the fireworks.

As Albus watched the show of colors a dread began to grown in his heart. He was to act as a person, but that didn´t change he was a Pet. Just like Sann and the many others inside. They looked at him with envy and resentment, but Sann...Sann didn´t. Despite the scars on his neck and the rest of his body; the sadness behind his eyes, he still would let him hold his hand and smile at fireworks. The pleasant memories of his time with Zarai began to pop into his mind like the blue and yellow and red lights shining in the night sky.

How could he even change that for him if he couldn´t be free from it himself?

Albus felt Sann tap on his shoulder and he turned, only to find him smiling at him holding the rose of his chest and gently put it on him. He blinked perplexed at the rose, now on his chest, before his eyes found him shrugging playfully.

“Gift. For you” Sann signed as he watched Albus take out his small notebook and pen and extend it for him. It took him a second, but Sann pulled it up so Albus could read it.

“My Master can be very explosive, but he´s a man of his word. He promised me he would give me a bouquet of roses if I could stand the burns…“ Albus eyes widened in horror before Sann smiled again and tapped on the note, urging him to continue “I only got one flower, but do you like it?”

Albus was speechless for a long moment that made Sann tense up and shrink into his shoulders. Albus hand gently guided him to look at him again.

“I love it” he said as Sann´s face lit up “But, the best gift you can give me is your smile” at that, Sann´s cheeks flared up. “S-So, please, don´t do something like that for me ever again. Please...” Sann was stunned by his words and only could looked down as Albus let down his hand and Sann noticed the wild blush expanding on the albino´s cheeks, right before he felt a shock on his neck.

Sann wheezed, bent over the balcony, before he felt yet another shock. As he gasped for air, Sann worried if his Master was hidden in the shadows. The terror of it being true made him step forward, a primal fear screaming at him to rush to his side.

“Wait!” Albus caught his wrist before he could run off. Sann stared at him for a second, heart drumming loudly in fear, agitated, so much more than the composure the albino put as front to his worry as he looked up at him could calm him. Ruby eyes full of determination nailed on him through long, white eyelashes. “Before you go, can I give you a kiss?”

Sann was thrown off the loop and glared back inside, darting his eyes through the crowd in fear of another shock, but when he felt Albus hand on his, his heart eased.

He asked.

He asked a toy like him who couldn´t say no.

Sann returned the squeeze and took one step closer. His hands were small and thin, a bit rough around the edges but so soft. Sann looked at his lips and waited for them to seal with his, but to his surprise, Albus pulled his hand and pressed his lips into his knuckles.

It was a light kiss. Soft and soothing, Sann´s heart melted when he didn´t step closer to kiss him somewhere else and instead only saw Albus pull away.

“See you later”

Sann stared at him for a moment, longing for more, but as Albus let go whispering, “Take care” he knew he couldn´t be greedy. He had to hang on to it until there was a chance they could meet again.

His Master glared at him when he came running to kneel besides him and then tugged on his collar, lifting his chin up as he checked his chest pocket and found it empty. He gripped on either side of his cheeks and pressed just enough on his throat with a severe look on his eyes that made Sann recoil before he clipped his leash to his collar and took him outside.

Sann slowed down when they passed through the security line to return the shock collar, but when the man only tugged on it for him to keep walking, he knew the collar would stay on that night.

When the man opened the trunk for him to crawl and sit on, he saw something grim shine on his eyes.

“Where did your rose go?” the man asked, stroking Sann´s cheek. “Did he like it?”

For the split of a second Sann stopped knowing how to breathe, but the next he was leaning into the man´s hand, shaking his head and then tilting it as if he didn´t understand the question.

A grin quirked the man´s lips

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themagicmistress · 3 years

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He finds her in a back alley dumpster, head down, fur matted in ugly, spotted clumps that speak of long, hungry months and too few meals.

When Magnus fishes out a piece of jerky from his front pocket, she doesn’t even growl at him. Instead, her tail wags lightly, shifting the dust around behind her.

“Hey, buddy,” he mutters, approaching slow. “What’re you doing all alone out here?”

There’s a flash of tooth that has him retracting his fingers, and the jerky is scarfed down as she tears into it, messy. Her muzzle is grey, he notes, the fur around her scruff shot through with thin lines of silver. She sniffs after finishing and then growls when he reaches his hand out.

Magnus freezes. “Hey,” he starts, “it’s okay. I’m alright, I’m not gonna hurt you.” She gives him dubious eyes, pupils big and black, cautious in a way that hurts his soul. “Really,” he promises.

She leans her wet doggy nose forward and sniffs the palm of his hand, leaning her head down and giving him permission to scratch the back of her ears.

Well, he’d always wanted a dog, right? Magnus still wanted a dog, in fact. It’d been ages since he’d gotten to take care of one. Since he’s woken up to paws on his chest, a tail bouncing against his legs. It’d been a long time. Maybe too long.

She doesn’t resist when he picks her up and brings her to the vet either.

The first thing she does when Magnus brings her home is bound across his home. He runs in after her. “Julia!” he calls out, half-laughing despite himself. “I’ve got a surprise! Make sure the studio is closed.” God, he hopes he closed it before leaving.

He rushes into the kitchen to find her with an armful of German Shepherd, hands awkwardly wrapped around fur and a pattern of muddy pawprints up the side of her skirt. Julia turns to him, eyes alight, a delighted little grin dancing across her face. Her fingers are stained with wood polish and the sunlight makes her deep brown skin glow through the kitchen window.

“Is this delightful little lady the surprise?” Julia coos to her, and the dog in her arms licks the side of her face, flat pink tongue leaving a streak of saliva behind. She laughs in bright peals. “Hi, honey, you’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

“You don’t mind?” Magnus edges awkwardly. “Ah, I’m sorry, I know I didn’t ask and this is your home too.” He falters and doesn’t continue. He doesn’t want to bring her back.

Given the mock-offended look she gives him, his girlfriend doesn’t either.

“This cutie? Absolutely not,” Julia clicks her tongue disapprovingly. “Mine now. But maybe yours for a couple seconds. Can you take her? My fingers are sticky and I don’t want to get anymore polish in her fur.”

“Oh! Yeah, here,” Magnus helps the no-longer stray to the ground.

He finally manages to tear his eyes away from Julia and sees a row of wooden bows on the kitchen counter, carefully propped up on long planks as to not get any polish on the table. Reality doesn’t quite come crashing down, because the rebellion is an ever-present weight in the back of his mind, but his chest tightens at the reminder.

Their new dog sniffs slightly at his side. “Just trying to bulk up for the final push against Kalen,” Julia says, turning to wash her hands in the sink. “I have about thirty more in the studio. What do you think?”

Magnus plucks one of the strings. It twangs under his fingers. “Jules?”

“Mmm?”

“I’m not sure if everyone’s gonna be able to fire these?” He says unsurely. “I mean, the workmanship is excellent, and they look great, but…”

Julia frowns at them, tapping at one near the end of the counter to check for tackiness before holding it up. Careful, she pulls back the string and her biceps flex as it draws back with ease. Magnus gulps. Her eyes dance, mischievous and knowing as she puts it back down before she draws a breath.

“Yeah,” Julia grimaces at the row of bows, “I see what you mean. I’ll re-string them a bit later. Forget about work for now, did you have a name in mind for her?”

The dog jumps up onto his legs, paws on his pants and Magnus reaches down a fond hand to scratch between her ears. “I was thinking,” he hesitates, “what do you think about ‘Star?’”

It’s not quite right. It doesn’t feel wrong, but it’s just shy of the goalpost, like biting into banana bread without chocolate chips in it: not bad, but weird. Julia still nods, face warming as she looks at the new addition to their home.

“I like it.”

He’ll find them together on their off-days, few and far between, Star curled in Julia’s lap as she takes the time to read one of those detective novels she loves, but never has the chance to look at.

Star will look at her with pleading eyes whenever his girlfriend strays too far to the door, leash dragging after her. Star follows her around the house too, so much that they’ve had to install another, gated door in the entrance to the workshop because she’ll try to wander in if they’ve forgotten to close it behind them. During strategic meetings for the rebellion, Magnus will look around the planning room and Star will be around Julia’s legs because everyone they know is at the meeting too and they can’t leave her home alone.

The revolution is no place for a dog. It’s no place to have a life either, but then, he plans to do something about that.

It’s apparent to both of them who the favourite is. “Who’s the best girl in the whole wide world?” Julia says to Star, a goopy grinning mess on her feet in their bed.

“Love you,” Magnus says: to Star, to Julia. To whatever gave him a home, a better future on the horizon, a family he loves, and a ring with a wooden rose carved on top, tucked away in the second drawer of their bedside table.

She shifts closer to him, a warm weight at his side.

Julia pulls his chin to her and plants a kiss on his lips, warm and soft. Then, she pulls back and Magnus blinks, dazed but happy.

“Say that again,” She tells him, eyebrow quirked. “But this time, don’t make it sound like a goodbye, alright?”

Magnus grins, a little sheepish. “I love you, Jules.”

A pleased grin spreads across her face. “I love you too.”

The week after Governor Kalen goes down, they take some time off to go to the park, toss around a ball. Magnus actually brought five balls, because he keeps throwing them a little too enthusiastically and they go bouncing outside the gates of the park.

“No, girl,” Julia giggles as Star jumps up onto her pants, “bring it back to Magnus, okay? Oh, alright, fine.” She seems to begrudgingly add another stick to her pile.

A guy nearby grumbles about the lack of sticks in the park and Magnus raises his voice. “Hey, Jules? Didja know they’ve been calling me ‘hero of the people?’” Magnus watches him pale and proceed to fuck off with no small amount of petty satisfaction.

“Yeah, babe! I know!”

“Isn’t that a great name!”

“I like ‘Maggie’ better!” Jules yells back and throws a stick. Magnus gets knocked over as a ball of fur collides hard with him and when he manages to push himself up, she’s laughing so hard her hands are wrapped around her stomach and her face is red.

“Just stand there,” Magnus shouts back, grinning too, “see if I care. Our dog loves me more than you and I’m pretty sure she just gave me a concussion!”

Julia throws another stick and they have learned nothing from their mistakes because this time Magnus really does get a concussion.

He finds her across the bridge that once connected to the Craftsmens’ Corridor, snout between her paws, fur coated in dust so thick she looks like a grey dog instead of a brown and black one. Magnus searches for Julia, upturns every outcropping of Raven’s Roost just in case there’s some chance she might have made it out, that she might have survived. Then, he does the same for Kalen, but for very different reasons. When he can’t find either of them, Magnus cries into Star’s fur.

He sets up a camp on the outside of town, just a little tent, something to put a roof over Star’s head. Magnus sleeps with her at his side and he is always cold, with the damp forest grass soaking through the thin layer between him and the ground, the clothes on his back that do nothing to warm his fingers, and each breath calcifying in his lungs like liquid nitrogen. Star becomes the only warm thing about him.

The first day after he sets up camp, Magnus wakes up to find her gone.

“Star?” he calls out, instantly alert. “Star?” Magnus bounds out of the tent, having slept in his clothes, and yells out to the forest. “Star? Girl, are you out there?” He searches, half-blind and panicked, not realizing where his feet are taking him until he’s there.

She’s at the edge of the cliff again, staring hopefully out over the two posts where a bridge once connected to his home. There is no bridge anymore. There’s no Craftsmens’ Corridor and instead there lies the open ocean, stretching in front of him for endless miles.

He walks to her side in a daze, a dream-like state. The horizon’s wrong, he thinks. From Hammer and Tongs, he could see the ocean, breathtaking and unending. Here, the other stone outcroppings lay scattered and empty to his right, marring his fantasy that for just a second, he’s home again.

“C’mon, Star,” Magnus mutters. She doesn’t move or look at him, just staring out over the water. He can’t find it in himself to tear her away, so he doesn’t. They sit there together until the sun goes down.

The next day, he wakes to find Star gone again.

Magnus keeps going there with her, leaving only to find them food. He goes to the cliffside in his dreams until there is no difference between his waking hours and sleeping hours. He always wakes up, disappointed that his wife’s never in them.

Eventually, he has to drag himself away. Star needs food, actual dog food and that takes money.

At first, he leaves her with the Burringters, a family with a little girl that shrieks in delight at the sight of Star. They’re some of the last stragglers on their way out of town.

“Make sure she has her ball when she’s feeling nippy,” Magnus tells Mrs. Burringter and places a ratty green ball in her hand with long tooth marks gouged into its sides. “Sometimes she forgets how much she weighs, so just— be aware. Of that.”

“Of course,” the halfling woman says, hair done up into a high ponytail, belly swelled with many months of pregnancy. “Where’re you looking to find work?”

“Oh, uh, Birchmore.”

She nods. “I think Greg’s got a cousin up there if you needed help finding something to do. He’s got a little business importing leathers.”

Magnus blinks at the bit of unexpected generosity. “I’m good, thanks. Nice of you to offer, but I’m alright by myself for now.”

Mrs. Burrington eyes him and all of a sudden he’s small again, being stared down by his mother and he almost thinks she’s going to lick her finger and wipe off a bit of dust from his cheek. “You know, if you need something, we’re always here.”

“That’s—”

“Not just us,” She puts a hand to her chest. “Anyone from Raven’s Roost, Magnus. Any of us.”

Magnus isn’t sure what to say. He settles for, “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

The sun rises and sets on the ocean and the two of them are there to watch it every time. Or, almost every time. Eventually, people leave Raven’s Roost and he can’t leave Star alone by herself so he brings her with him when he needs to find work, to buy food and essentials.

A part of him thinks Star needs to grieve, to take that time before moving on with him. Another knows that isn’t the reason he stays.

She’s all he has left of her.

One day Magnus wakes up and Star hasn’t gone, and there is nothing warm about her presence at all. Her paws are on his chest, eyes closed and he knew she wasn’t a young dog, but somehow he’d still managed to miss the rapidly greying hair of her muzzle, the way she dragged her feet back to the tent.

Or maybe Star hadn’t died of old age. Maybe it had just been a broken heart.

He buries her beside Julia’s empty grave, makes her a wooden marker with simple lettering. She loved and was loved, he scrawls across it and the writing is crooked, far too messy for what she’d deserved, but it’s the best he can do.

The next day, Magnus packs up his bag and his tent, hefts his ax over his shoulder, and leaves the sea behind. A part of him already misses it and still, he knows it’s not the town he misses.

Magnus doesn’t turn back when he leaves Raven’s Roost for the last time.

He knows he’ll see them again.

Link to A03 version here.

#My fic #The Adventure Zone #magnus burnsides #fanfic #the adventure zone: balance #animal death

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feminaexlux · 3 years

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All That Matters (Pt 1: I Got Chills)

Happy Valentine’s Day! This is my @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers exchange fic for @nobodyfamousposts. Find this on AO3 here!

Summary: What if Miracle Queen happened 6 months later in the dead of winter?

Part 1 of 3, probably.

⁂

"Ladybug?"

"Yeah, Chat?"

"I have a girlfriend."

"Oh! That's wonderful, congratulations!"

Chat Noir looked… confused, which was odd given the news that Ladybug just got. "I thought you'd be jealous," Chat said eventually. Part of him sounded chagrined, but another part of him sounded a little relieved.

Ladybug tilted her head. "Why would I be jealous? I'm happy for you!"

"Thanks," Chat said with a small smile. "It's new for me, you know? I've never done this before. I feel like I'm going to mess something up."

Ladybug laughed. "You're a good guy, Chat. I think all relationships are going to be hard and there will always be ups and downs. But I think you'll be fine if you work together on the problems." Ladybug then had a concern. "You're not dating her as Chat are you?"

"Pfft, no, no my Lady, the real me is doing that part," Chat laughed.

"Okay, good. Remember you can't reveal your identity to anyone."

"I know, my Lady, I know." Chat sighed. "I wish I could, sometimes. It sucks having to leave her without a good explanation, you know?"

Ladybug paused and considered. "Can I ask how you deal with that?"

"Luckily for me, my fath-- uh, family has a pretty tight leash on this cat. I say that they need me and… she understands." Chat leaned forward and pulled up his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. "She's… sad whenever that happens so I try to make it up to her."

Ladybug laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "That's good. It sounds like the sooner we can take down Hawkmoth, the better."

Chat turned to her and nodded. "Yeah. Agreed."

Ladybug took her hand off his shoulder and rested it back on the roof of the building they were on. They had done some patrols and met back up again to report nothing out of the ordinary. They sat together watching the sunset as they did on the good days.

It was partly cloudy and chilly in the early days of winter. The freezing cold hadn't yet settled in but Ladybug knew it was coming in soon. She'd noticed in the previous winter that part of her felt sluggish and her body felt more lethargic in general, even in her powered up super suit. Tikki had said something about how ladybugs didn't do well in winter, and maybe that was why? Okay, sure. Ladybug didn't want to be any sort of liability to Chat or to the city of Paris when it got cold so she was able to convince Master Fu to lend out the other Miraculous on a semi-permanent basis.

Rena Rouge and Carapace were more than recurring heroes now. Ladybug had entrusted the Miraculous to Alya Cesaire and Nino Lahiffe after they promised to protect their identities, each other, the city of Paris, and to not misuse the Miraculous powers for personal gain. She’d done the same for Pegasus, Ryuuko, and Viperion. Ladybug didn’t know who King Monkey was so she had enlisted Fu’s help in tracking him down.

Queen Bee was… on an as-needed basis. Chloe Bourgeois was still an unknown. She had her moments of true selflessness but they'd been rare and unpredictable and that wasn't an ally Ladybug or Chat Noir could trust. They tried explaining that to Chloe once, but it ended when the mayor's daughter threw them out in a fit of tears. They still gave her another chance but the last time Queen Bee was used was with HeartHunter and Ryuuko had to bail them all out when Queen Bee stopped listening to them.

It wasn't going well.

"How are you doing, 'Bug?"

Ladybug snapped out of her thoughts and turned to face Chat. "I'm… okay. It's starting to get cold."

"Maybe you need to find yourself a boyfriend and get some warm snuggles," Chat grinned. "What about that boy you love?"

Ladybug closed her eyes. "He's found someone else," Ladybug said softly. She had a small smile on her face, remembering how it felt to see Adrien and Kagami together. Kagami fit in to his life so seamlessly and Adrien looked happier than Marinette had ever seen.

"I'm… I'm sorry."

"It's alright," Ladybug sighed, looking back out at the sunset. "I think he's happier now." And now Marinette wasn't feeling like the universe kept pushing back. It hurt a little bit to know nothing was going right with Adrien and there wasn't anything she could do to change it. She finally made the decision to stop feeling hurt all the time and allowed herself to let him go. "And I think I'm happier too."

"Okay," Chat smiled, sighing in relief. "That's great to hear. I'm sorry it didn't work out but I'm glad that you're happier. A happy Ladybug is always good news."

"And a happy Chat Noir is always good news as well," Ladybug giggled. "Thanks for letting me know."

"Of course. You're my best friend, Ladybug. I want to tell you everything, but…"

"You shouldn't tell me. It's to protect us," Ladybug stressed. "But… you know you're my best friend too."

⁂

One good thing about no longer obsessing over Adrien was that Marinette had less to worry about. The GirlSquad was no longer a pain in the proverbial butt about getting her to ask him out either. Instead Alya had fixed her sights on improving the LadyBlog and tracking down interviews with the other semi-permanent heroes, though (for obvious reasons) she had way more articles about Rena Rouge than any of the other Miraculous holders. It didn't seem like it was for personal gain as Alya had styled the interviews as asking the heroes advice to inform all of her blog readers how to defend against or prepare for akumas, so Marinette decided she'd let that pass for the greater good.

The only thing that felt a little weird about the GirlSquad sometimes was that Juleka seemed like she kept wanting to talk with Marinette and then backing out at the last second. That probably meant Juleka still felt confused about Marinette dating her brother.

Marinette knew it looked kinda bad to date someone else soon(?) after giving up on Adrien, especially since Adrien started dating Kagami(!), but it just happened so… naturally. Marinette had been the one to keep visiting Luka at the Liberty. Luka had kept inviting her to watch movies with him. They'd just felt like having lunch together often. After months of not-dating Marinette had finally asked, flustered and tripping over her words, if they actually were. Or… If he had wanted to.

"If you want to, I'm game," Luka had said casually, but Marinette had seen the faintest blush on him.

They had both been surprised when she said "Yes."

Their relationship was nice and easy. They had taken it slow. Most of their "dates" were just hanging out, low key chilling around each other, listening to music or working on Lycée homework. He would lend an ear to whatever she wanted to talk about and offered his thoughts and commentary. She'd given him small gifts here and there. They'd gone out ice skating and met up with other friends a few times. She had been worried that she'd been a pretty boring girlfriend overall but he said "If you wanna be here with me and I wanna be here with you, that's all that matters."

Whenever she and Luka were together during an akuma attack Luka did have the penchant for staying with her for as long as possible. He did eventually give an excuse of having to check up on Juleka or his mom and left Marinette to run out as Viperion… and then she would transform into Ladybug and follow after him. If anyone caught on that Ladybug always came in right after Viperion, the other heroes were smart enough to not comment on it. Nor comment on how they always left at the same time. Luka had, after sprinting back to her, breathlessly apologized the first few times for leaving her but Marinette had said it was so brave of him to look out for his family's safety and that'd been enough. Marinette did have to admit to herself that dating another superhero was actually pretty convenient. Chat would never let that go if he found out.

On the bad days it'd been so good to melt into his hugs when she felt the weight of the world press down harder on her. He'd been the calm in her life she so desperately wanted. It hit her like a ton of bricks just how much she needed him when he got taken from her.

⁂

Marinette and Luka were hanging out at Place des Vosges having coffee together after defeating yet another akuma. It had gotten much easier dealing with Hawkmoth most of the other heroes helping out, and the fight was over in practically no time at all. Just when everything calmed down again she and Luka heard screaming nearby and saw people running away from… a swarm of wasps?

They got up and started running, but they were too slow and the wasps were catching up. "Aw crap," Luka yelled. "Marinette watch out!" Luka pulled her into his arms and shielded her from them, getting stung in the process.

"Luka!" Marinette felt his arms drop from her shoulders and she looked up to see his face devoid of any emotion. His eyes turned a weird shade of yellow and he wasn't responding to her shaking him. "Luka!" For one tiny moment he blinked and looked down at her with concern, then his face went slack again. "Oh no, what happened to you?" He turned away from her and started walking off. "H-hey! No! Don't go!" She took his hand and tried to pull him into the bakery but he resisted and kept walking. Another swarm of wasps was closing in on her and Marinette cried out in frustration, letting Luka slip out of her grasp.

Wasps… wasps? Was this Chloe?! Oh no, Marinette thought, turning on her heels to sprint toward the Seine. She transformed while diving in, making sure to use her aqua powerup. She plunged into the river and then looked back up to see the swarm hovering above the water and eventually disperse away. She pulled out her yoyo and slid the cover up, checking if any of the other Miraculous holders were active.

Oh no. None of the other heroes were showing up on her communicator. At least not yet. Oh no. Ladybug let the communicator close and swam in circles, wondering just how she'd be able to handle this on her own if she had to. Suddenly she got a ping and Ladybug whipped out her yoyo, franticly checking which of her allies was nearby. Oh thank goodness Chat Noir was alright. Okay. She swam to meet him as he was heading in her direction and they met up halfway. "Chat! I'm so glad you're okay!"

"Yeah, I'm definitely glad to see you, 'Bug!"

"Th-this is… this is Queen Wasp again, isn't it?" Ladybug fretted and pulled her hair in a mix of frustration and guilt. "I… I thought…"

"We beat her before and we can do it again," Chat said, squeezing her shoulder with his hand. "And… and I have this, if we need it," he said somewhat sheepishly, pulling out what looked like a necklace. It was a choker… a very familiar choker. One she had given to Kagami Tsurugi to keep for the time being. What was Chat doing with the Dragon Miraculous? "I… found this near… a girl after she got stung by one of the wasps."

Ladybug blinked at the choker a few times. All she could think of was the dread she felt when the wasps were after her and Luka. What had Chat Noir gone through? And he had been conveniently nearby Kagami and the Dragon Miraculous and recognized it fast enough to grab it? "We might be able to use this." Ladybug closed Chat's hand over the choker. "You keep this for now, let's make a plan. None of the other heroes show up as active on my locator yet--" As soon as she said it she got a series of pings on her yoyo that indicated that most of the other Miraculous holders were becoming active, all but Ryuuko, and all at the same time and location.

Even Viperion showed up on her locator… she knew that Luka had been taken. Which could only mean…

"This is bad news." Ladybug bit at her bottom lip. "I personally saw that… one of the holders got stung. This means they've captured everyone else with a Miraculous and we're on our own. We'll have to use the Dragon and get any edge we can." Chat nodded at Ladybug and she sighed. "This is going to be tricky. We need to take Viperion out first."

"How are we going to do that?"

Ladybug and Chat Noir looked at each other in silence for a bit. "We have to split up and you have to use the Dragon Miraculous. You can't be caught by the wasps or Pegasus if you're in Wind form and I don't think it's safe to do a frontal assault with Viperion working against us."

"And what about you? What are you going to do?"

"I'm… going to use the Mouse. They can't capture all of me that way… hopefully."

Chat looked pained. "This sounds dangerous, 'Bug."

"Do you have another idea?" Chat shook his head. "Then let's do this for now. We'll have to play this by ear." Ladybug called her Lucky Charm and got a scarf, now waterlogged with Seine water (ew). "A scarf? What the heck am I supposed to do with a scarf?!"

⁂

To be continued (insert Jojo music here)

Actually j/k it's right here

#fxl fic #lukanette #lukanette endgame #endgame lukanette #lbsc exchange fic 2021 #ladybug #chat noir #marinette dupain cheng #luka couffaine #lbscexchange2021

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natusvincere · 3 years

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Why Can’t We Be Friends || Morgan and Vic

Who: @mor-beck-more-problems and @natusvincere When: Current Timing Where: White Crest National Park Hiking Trail What: Morgan and Vic decide to try a walk in the woods to catch up, but the conversation ventures to topics one of them would rather ignore. Warnings: Mentions of domestic abuse, emotional abuse, and parent death.

This wasn’t something Vic did. But Morgan Beck had somehow developed a knack for getting Vic to do all sorts of things she didn’t do- share feelings and admit that she could possibly care for someone else, for one. Plus, there was still that nagging, gnawing guilt about the way they had ended the last time they met up, and it couldn’t be washed away with just a bit of paint and a pretty picture. So, even though it wasn’t something she did, Vic supposed it was Morgan’s compelling pull on her that was to blame, and definitely not that she was growing weak or vulnerable. She sat on a rock where they’d agreed to meet, a healthy mix of excited and nervous energy buzzing within her. As a familiar car pulled up beside her and she whistled loudly. The clumsy, frantic gait of Winnie could be heard within a moment, only seconds before Vic saw her barreling back toward her, carrying a rather large branch. Winnie jumped up on the rock with her, proud and content, and dropped the branch to give her face a quick lick. “Stupid”, she whispered with a smile, giving her a kiss on the forehead.

She stood up, wringing her hands together as Morgan left her car, but Winnie clearly didn’t share her nerves. As soon as she noticed there was another being present, the dog dashed toward the car, barking a greeting that, to anyone else, probably sounded vicious and intimidating. Vic rolled her eyes. “Winnifred!”, she shouted, whistling sternly shortly after. Winnie, for her part, didn’t seem to care, and she continued to barrel toward the car, barking happily.

Morgan was happy to see Vic again. With everything she had going on, her visits to the gallery were becoming more seldom, and she didn’t get the same connection from Vic when their paths crossed there as she did when they spoke online. And lately, Morgan felt like Vic had something she wanted to tell her. She couldn’t settle on what, the woman had so many secrets and repressed feelings, it could be anything. From the way she spoke, Vic seemed like a woman who had suffered a great deal, and was buckling under the weight of it. As she drove up to the park, Morgan wondered if maybe she was going to try and explain some of her pain, so it wouldn’t be so hard to carry.

As soon as she opened the door, she was pounced by a large, slobbering dog. Morgan tried to pet her, but the creature jumped and barked too excitedly for her to get much in the way of ear scritches. “Hi, Winnie,” she laughed. Reaching into her purse, Morgan took out a little strip of dog jerky, which made Winnie bark even louder, jump high enough to paw at Morgan’s chest. With a big smile, Morgan threw it toward Vic and beamed as the dog ran after it.

“I hope that’s okay,” Morgan called, coming up to the woman. “I know you’ve said how friendly she is, but I smell like three different cats and I figured it doesn’t hurt to make a nice impression. Are we friends enough yet for me to hug you?”

Vic watched Winnie practically trample Morgan, feeling equal parts embarrassed and amused as she watched their interaction. No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t convince Winnie to be a calm, intelligent dog. She insisted on being hyper and simple. It was amazing, in a way, to watch the pure joy that radiated from such a silly creature. Morgan didn’t seem to mind, anway.

She attached Winnie to her leash as the dog ran toward her, too focused on her prize to realize what was going on. She brushed Morgan off, scratching Winnie behind her ears as she spoke. “It’s better to fill her up now than for her to find a rogue squirrel on the way that she’s dying to eat, I suppose. You saved us both a lot of distraction by bringing her that.” It struck her, briefly, that she might have reamed anyone else out for bringing her dog a treat without her permission, but it seemed Morgan had already managed to gain special treatment from Vic in more ways than one.

She bit her lip, but then shrugged and let herself fall into Morgan’s hug, awkwardly but fully embraced in it. “I’m not a hug person”, she admitted, eyeing Morgan carefully as they walked. Nothing seemed to surprise the other woman, and no matter the vitriol she sent her, nothing pushed her away, either. She cleared her throat awkwardly. “Have you… been doing okay?”

Morgan laughed her way into a smile as Vic relented and let them embrace. “In that case, I’m even more honored for the privilege. I won’t ask it of you too much, but I really do appreciate it.” She gave her another squeeze for good measure and then let go, settling back onto her feet and putting a little more distance between them as they began their walk. “I gotta say, I appreciate having someone who appreciates the little old school things like just going on a walk. I don’t know too many people like that.” She elbowed Vic, and hoped for the best that it wasn’t too hard.

At the question of how she was doing, Morgan went quiet, unsure of what to say. How was she doing? There was a lot going on, and it felt like she was having to re-evaluate her ethics every week, if not every day. How did any of the so-called principled people she knew handle it? It was no wonder Remmy had left to make things easier for them. “It’s...uh, been sort of a time. But that’s just White Crest for ya. I could really use one of those quiet breaks right now, where the worst thing we have to worry about is fish falling from the sky, honestly.” She shrugged. “But I still have...my art, my job, and...well, I sort of have this literacy side project but that’s a mixed bag at best.” She looked sidelong at Vic. “But how are you? Have you considered, you know, getting out more?”

Vic eyed Morgan as she elbowed her, only able to maintain a serious expression for a moment before she elbowed her back. She quickly shoved her hands into her pockets after the gesture. “Well, most people are assh-”, she stopped, eyeing Morgan again. The other woman kept telling her to open herself up to people, to stop seeing the worst in them. It was such a natural reaction to shove them aside, as so many had done to her. She supposed at some point, it was easier than opening herself up to rejection. She cleared her throat before continuing. “...Most people don’t have time to stop and appreciate the beauty in nature, I guess. Too busy.”

She glanced at her friend, surprised to hear that she hadn’t been having an easy time lately. “Is it… something you’d like to discuss?”, she tried cautiously. “I know you mentioned this is a hard time of year for you.” For whatever reason- Vic didn’t really want to think about why. It caused too many questions about the secrets that Morgan held deep inside. Winnie yanked on the leash, pulling her forward quicker than she expected. She licked her lips before she answered, not too sure on what she’d say before she started. If you consider getting trapped in a nightmare dreamscape with Marley- “I went to the bend last week, if that’s what you mean”, she said sheepishly.

Morgan caught Vic’s thoughtful amendment and smiled, touched and grateful. “Well, in their defense, so much of life these days pulls them away from it. And with everything that hides in the shadows, maybe it’s better for them that they know their limits.” She shook herself out of the middle distance and smiled at Vic again. “But I’m glad we have this in common. It’s nice.”

She thought awhile about how she might go discussing this with Vic. If there were any words that approximated being hunted, or fearing her immortality, the way she ached when she saw aging families and the neighborhood kids graduating kindergarten and pre-k. What human words could she possibly use to explain being pulled away from the very human pieces of the world?

“I’m not sure I know how,” she said at last. “Not because I don’t want to, it’s just...hard to explain and hard to understand. I don’t even understand all of it myself. Why don’t you tell me about The Bend? I see you grinning over there. Did something interesting happen? Or maybe someone?”

“I think they’d be happier if they stopped worrying about what people thought. I wonder if that’s the problem these days”, Vic mused as they walked, shoving her hands into her pockets. “Social media has people so wrapped up in impressing others that most people are just shells of themselves at this point.” What she was saying was bullshit. Even 400 years ago, people were wrapped up in impressing each other. Some of them cared about it more than they did their own children. Social media was as much to blame for society as make-up or magazines were. They were all just extensions of issues that had existed for generations. Morgan’s remark on their commonality shook her out of her thoughts, and she smiled back at her, agreeing with a light nod. It was nice- to share something with someone. Even something as public as nature.

She let her gaze fall forward as they chatted and walked, watching as Winnie made an effort to get a good sniff of every tree they passed, stopping every few moments to look to her for approval. She nodded at Morgan’s explanation, waiting a beat before responding. “I.... understand the feeling of struggling to explain or understand certain emotions around certain events. You’re not alone in that feeling. Not by a long shot.” The worst thing in the world, besides the company being ripped out in front of you, was feeling alone. What was it about being in a room full of people that felt so incredibly isolating?

The corners of her mouth perked up again, despite the situation with Marley having been less than ideal. But the fact that they had found themselves in that situation made her laugh, when she looked back on it, because the universe has a funny way of making those things happen. “I’m not sure you’d believe me if I told you”, she admitted, glancing to her side. “A friend and I ran into each other, and then had a few experiences I’d venture don’t happen in many places outside of White Crest”, she explained.

Morgan couldn’t hide the searching wonder in her eyes as Vic suggested that she might understand the understandable. There was a weight to her words that carried more gravity than anything that came from the humans she’d spoken to. Or maybe after losing so much, Morgan was just that desperate for connection.

The rest of Vic’s words forgotten, she asked, “Do you? Understand? I don’t mean that incredulously. I mean, will you tell me about it? Is that okay? I know you’re a really private person. I don’t want to presume or sound entitled to your history--It’s just, how do you get support for something no one talks about? How do you open up to someone if the words don’t exist to most people? Or if trying would make them see you differently, or stop seeing you at all?” She winced at her clumsy openness. But with the house so empty, with the world so violent and quiet at once, she was growing desperate to fill the empty spaces around her. And maybe that wasn’t fair to Vic, but she couldn’t take her words back now.

Something in the way Morgan’s questions were worded gave Vic pause. She wasn’t sure if it was the desperation behind them or the meticulous way they were arranged, but there was something subtle and hidden there. She looked forward and continued walking, but the atmosphere felt like it was closing in- like water was blocking her ears and everything sounded distant and far away. She cleared her throat; it felt like it echoed through the forest.

“I’m not sure I know what you’re asking”, she said finally.

For a long time, there was silence between them, Vic trying to ignore the intensity of Morgan’s and have a nice, simple, quiet walk, where they didn’t need to talk about feelings and the past. But then she started talking, unsure of exactly why.

“I told you my mother passed when I was very young.” Had she passed? Or was she out there still, running around with the creatures that her father insisted had taken her? “I think my father resented me for it- or he needed someone to blame.” Even just thinking of him made her insides flip with shame and self-hate. She looked down at her hands. “And at first, it bothered me. I wanted to make myself better or worth something, or even a little likable. But nothing… nothing I did was good enough. Ever.” What was she doing? Why was she talking about this? “And then by the time I was no longer a child, I resented him, maybe I resented myself, too, I don’t know. But I wasn’t at all interested in marriage… for obvious reasons, and so I was… stuck with him.” She strategically left out why exactly she was stuck with him. If only 1500s Sweden was like 21st century USA. She could have died as a happy old spinster and not have known the difference.

Why was she sharing this?

“So I guess I mean, I understand having a complicated relationship with a parent.”

Morgan didn’t know how to hide her disappointment, so she turned her face away to look out at the world instead. This wasn’t Vic’s fault. And really, this was something big she was trusting her with. This was a gift. She should be hopeful about this. But she didn’t. She felt foolish and stupid and selfish and tired--stars above, she was so tired and it wasn’t even that late--and trying to correct and re-write her thoughts wasn’t doing the trick.

“I’m sorry,” she said at last. ‘That was cruel, what he did. That was...that just sounds awful.” She sniffled, kept her eyes off in the middle distance as they walked. “That wasn’t what I was referring to, what I was trying to talk to you about but--” She cleared her throat, swallowed thickly. “My mother didn’t want kids. At least that’s what she wrote in her journal a couple of years before she had me. There was this--fuck, I don’t even know how to tell you all about this either--there was a thing. Her mother was very cruel to her. She’d get her things she wanted just to destroy them in front of her, lock her outside the house, and that’s the light stuff. And yeah, the woman had her reasons for being that way. Those were the same reasons my mother didn’t want to even bother with having a baby. But you can’t always get what you want, and I came along anyway. She wasn’t cruel to me in those same ways, though sometimes I wished she would be, so I’d have proof I wasn’t making things up or being too sensitive. And I...I’ve been in and out of therapy for years now, but I still want to get on my knees when something goes wrong or someone leaves and ask what I did wrong, what can I do to make it better, how can I fix it. I want to say I’ll be good. I can be good if you tell me how. I just...become that miserable little girl again. She’s so desperate and she’s never satisfied that she’s done enough, there always has to be something more. It’s exhausting.” She shrugged, letting the subject drop if that’s what Vic wanted. She was too disappointed to follow up with a real question so soon, and maybe she should have thought through this outing more carefully in the first place.

Vic stared ahead, hard and even, as she processed Morgan’s response. That wasn’t what I was referring to. The implication was there without it being said aloud. Morgan had been talking about the giant elephant in the room, her other past… implying that they shared something. Did they, then? Was this the day that she’d find out the thing she’d been fearing most? That Morgan was another vampire, as she expected, and Vic would be forced to turn her into hunters before morning.

Did doing such a thing make her more of a monster than being a vampire did?

“Well then, ...out with it. What were you referring to?” I don’t want to know, I don’t want to know, I don’t want to know.

Vic felt tears rise to her eyes as Morgan talked about her mother and her grandmother, and the scenarios she shared felt so similar to her own, in a way. The cruelty, the disdain, the confusion… what had been the reason they’d all been forced to experience it? Morgan understood the desperate need to please a parent and the longing to be loved and be good enough. Maybe she understood better than anyone else. And again, there was a twinkle of a thought in the back of her mind, one that tried to overtake the one that said Vic would turn her in- maybe this time, it could be different.

“Our stories seem similar”, she commented. At least when it came to their caregivers. “But as an adult, my reactions to people seem to manifest opposite to yours. I don’t care about pleasing the masses, or fixing what they presume I’ve done wrong. In fact, I’d rather let them know outright that they’ll be disappointed to know me, lest I have to handle their disappointment when they try to delve deeper.” Lyra’s singsong voice rang in her ears, saying-‘You claim you don’t care to please them, then in the same breath worry about disappointing them. You’re a walking contradiction, Victoria.’ She let out a shaky scoff and looked to Morgan. “I’m sorry it’s so exhausting. I’m sorry your mother couldn’t have been better for you. You didn’t deserve any of it. And… I think that your kindness still rings through as a testament to the type of person you are, if you don’t mind my saying.”

Morgan ignored the pointed request to explain herself and focused instead on how Vic internalized her fears. It should have been a relief to have someone understand her on any front right now. She only had so many friends left, and she was so busy trying to make sure the new ones really liked her, she didn’t dare dump her problems on them if she could help it. Emotional spirals were supposed to wait until you were at least two months in, right?

“If you’re so invested in the outcome with people you decide it’s predetermined and you try that hard to get ahead of it--that’s a lot of energy. Kind of sounds like you care a lot,” she spoke simply, with no shortage of understanding. “It might be easier if you accepted you’re not as terrible as your father led you to believe and aren’t actually going to disappoint everyone you meet. Let things happen with people without those memories controlling you. You didn’t deserve that either. And you don’t deserve to be trapped and controlled by that for as long as you have.”

But what had she been referring to? How did she step around that ache without making it seem like she didn’t trust Vic? At least, not in a specific way. “What I was talking about was uh...sort of related to my accident. It’s hard to explain to some people and it’s not something I’m good with handling misunderstandings about. I know I just told you how chronically desperate I am for approval and positive attention, and how you should just wait and see with people instead of assuming the worst, but when it comes to my...it’s just really personal and it’s hard enough talking about it honestly without managing other people not believing me or running away or thinking it’s cool or something else besides what it really was. It destroyed my life and almost everything I wanted to do with it. Whatever self-acceptance spin I put on what came after, that’s always going to be true.” Morgan shook her head ruefully. She was tired of losing people. She was tired of having to outpace her own mistakes. She was tired of feeling alone. “I need to know you’ll believe me no matter how batshit it sounds before I talk to you about it. And if you’re not sure, that’s okay, I get it, we don't have to get into it. And most times I do a good job of not letting it bother me, but lately….” Lately her life was falling apart faster than a TV movie and the thought of forever was looking a lot more terrifying.

Vic felt herself roll her eyes at Morgan’s claim, much like a petulant child who was being scolded but didn’t want to admit she was wrong. “It sounds lovely when you word it that way, but I’m not sure it’s all that simple”, she responded. There had been times when she’d tried to let her guard down, to be herself without the walls and the anger and the judgement. But something always happened that snapped her back to it- sometimes she didn’t even realize what triggered the switch at all, just that she couldn’t turn it back off. It was like the first time she tried gardening with Morgan- she couldn’t even remember what set her off. “I suppose I’m not sure I know how to not be controlled by it.” It sounded like an excuse; something she might call someone else weak for.

She knew Morgan had been having a hard time lately because of the anniversary of some accident. Her fingers brushed behind her right ear on their own accord, ghosting by the scar from the bite that still kept her pinned to this earth. Was the accident she kept referring to just a coverup for something much more sinister? Morgan’s neck didn’t hold any scars- she’d looked countless times when she had the chance, but maybe she covered them up the same way Vic did.

The more Morgan spoke, the more panic fluttered around Vic, and both her words and the trees closed in on the two of them at a threatening pace. Vic felt her breathing pick up, and her chest felt heavier with each step they took. She couldn’t take it anymore- she had to get out. Or at least had to know what the fuck this big secret was.

In one motion, she grabbed her dagger from its hiding place and then used her forearm to push against Morgan’s chest, forcing her back against a tree. Their faces were mere inches apart, and from this distance, Morgan’s lack of a heartbeat was even more abundantly clear. “Tell me what you are”, she said through gritted teeth, her voice hushed and raspy. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, and her chest was still heaving with heavy breaths. Why couldn’t Morgan have been a nice, normal human or something non-threatening, like one of those annoying fae? Why did life have to continue to be so cruel and unfair? “Come on, Morgan. You’ve been dancing around it for weeks. I’m not an idiot.” She was meant to sound threatening and cold, but the waver in her voice betrayed her. “You want to get into it, let’s get into it. What. Are. You?” With every word, the dagger danced closer to Morgan’s neck. Still no sign of a scar. Winnie appeared next to them, sitting obediently after taking a moment to lick at Morgan’s fingers.

She didn’t want to tell the hunters about Morgan, but the thought of letting a vampire roam around made her stomach twist and turn the same way it used to when she disappointed her father.

The thought of Morgan dying because of her made that feeling even worse.

Morgan never saw Vic’s turn coming. But then, when did she ever? Her back hit the tree and before she could beg for her life, there was a blade against her chest and Vic’s eyes were burning into hers, overflowing with fear and hatred. Morgan stared at her, stupidly silent as every hope she’d been collecting between them shattered. Her hands went up to Vic’s arm on instinct but she didn’t go through any of the disarming drills she’d learned between Remmy and Mina. She was so tired, and a little blade like that probably wouldn’t be the end of her, and so what if Vic cut her up into so many pieces? What else would change that hadn’t already?

“Why? Don’t you already know?” She whimpered. She wanted to come back with some harsh reply, but she could only break down into more tears. All she wanted was to rest and be loved, just a little, and she had thought that Vic was safe enough to try.

“You came prepared, so you must have been thinking about hurting me before,” she sobbed quietly. “Do you want to? Will that make you feel better?” It would be so easy to let her, and crawling to her empty home in pieces would at least be a change of pace. But Mina would worry, and Deirdre was coming home someday, and she would only be hurting them if she gave up. Slowly, her look of devastation hardened. “Come on. You’ve got to be a real piece of shit hunter if you can’t tell what I am from this close.”

Please don’t cry. Vic’s eyes flashed to Morgan’s, watching as her tears flowed freely. It was her fault she was crying. She looked up to the tree tops above them to stop her own from spilling over. “Would I be asking if I already knew?”, she asked, momentarily bewildered. “Just fucking tell me”, she demanded harshly. “I need to hear you say it”.

With Morgan’s sobbing accusations, Vic felt her head tilt, and her efforts to hold the tears back became useless. “We didn’t have to do this. We didn’t have to talk about it. We could have left well enough alone.” Her words, like her thoughts, were racing and nonsensical. The pressure she had on Morgan’s chest relaxed slightly, though her knuckles were still stark white as they held the dagger. “You’re assuming I want this to happen?”, she asked, eyebrows furrowed as she looked between the dagger and Morgan.

“I’m not a hunter”, she spat, almost offended at the accusation. Hunters were useful, but oafish and had one track minds. “I’m a… I’m not a hunter…. We’re not fucking talking about me. What the fuck are you?” There had to be only one reason why she was delaying sharing, right? Why she was so nervous to share in the first place. Because she was one of them, vicious and plotting and too awful and dangerous to be trusted. But she trusted Morgan when she didn’t think about what she might be. Her stomach felt sick the more her mind fought with itself.

Morgan’s face melted again, hurt with a new kind of betrayal. If she wasn’t a hunter then why was any of this happening? Why was she hurting her? Why was she leaning on their ‘no choice’ bullshit? She twisted Vic’s hand around with a swift snap and snatched the knife free by the blade as she pushed her away. Morgan ran the sharp side of the blade across her palm, good and deep and squeezed out a line of black blood to show before the skin sewed itself clean.

“How’s this for undead 101?” She asked, holding out the evidence. “No, I’ll do you one better.” She ripped off the leather cuff over her wrist and showed Vic the scar in the shape of Remmy’s mouth that she always hid. “And for the record, yes, Victoria! You wanted this to happen! You chose to keep talking to me, you got me out here, you brought a fucking knife just to hurt me!” She threw the knife as far away as she could from both of them. “What do any of those choices say? You’re not some pawn, and you’re not some hunter with a fucked up code to lean on so they can sleep at night!” She approached her again, fearless and still crying. “Tell me how I’m not some thing you wanted to play with and decided to break when you were done. Explain it, because I don’t understand this any other way.”

Vic was taken aback at the sudden shift of power, stumbling back toward the bath that they’d been walking in. Winnie barked and ran toward her, but Vic was too focused on the display in front of her to notice. She was confused, at first, by what she was seeing, but the black blood and instant healing were definitely not symptoms of the very thing she was fearing most. They were symptoms of something else all together.

A new kind of pit danced around in her stomach.

The scar was different than hers… the teeth weren’t right for it to be a vampire bite. “Zombie”, she whispered, finally letting her eyes find Morgan’s again. She’d made this mistake more than once before- the lack of heartbeat usually set her on a fast track of destruction. But it didn’t always mean vampire, and Vic had no interest in ridding the world of anything but the blood suckers. Victoria. “Don’t call me that!”, she yelled, and her voice seemed to shriek and echo through the trees, taunting her for the loss of control. A vision of Lyra, ethereal but disappointed, flashed behind Morgan. More tears came with the accusations, and she shook her head in both apology and defiance, her nostrils flaring as she explained. “I bring a knife everywhere!”, she yelled back, gesturing toward where her dagger was thrown for emphasis. “I bring one to the gallery, and to the park, and even the fucking vet. Do you not know how dangerous this town is?”

She licked her lips, staring Morgan down as she approached her. She felt like she was jumping out of her skin under Morgan’s gaze, and she didn’t know how to answer her questions. “I told you I’m a shit person”, is all she offered at first.

But then, after a long beat of silence, she looked down to the ground below them, letting out a shaky breath. “I assumed you were a vampire”, she said suddenly, as if that would explain everything easily. But when she looked back up, Morgan seemed to be waiting for more. “I didn’t- I never wanted to… I just thought we were going on a fucking walk, Morgan. And ever since we’ve met there was that nag in the back of my mind that you were one of them, and your implications only doubled down my suspicions, but I didn’t want you to have to die so I ignored it. But then you were about to admit something to me, and my mind jumped right to the worst possible thing, and so I panicked. And because I didn’t want you to die, I had to know then. Because you’re too good to die.” There had to be some irony there, clearly, since Morgan was apparently already dead. “I did not bring you out here to kill you. I’m not a killer. I’m not like them.”

Morgan listened to Vic, waiting for the part where all of this made sense. She waited some more. “Why does it matter what I became after I died?” She asked quietly. “I would still be me. I’d be able to feel more, but I wouldn’t be someone different. Why would being a vampire mean I have to die…?” She took a step closer to Vic and looked up into her eyes, pleading for clarity. “You haven’t explained anything, Vic. How is what you’re doing any different from them? And why do you feel like you have to? No one has to kill people for how they were made.”

Vic stood, stoic and confused, as she tried to process Morgan’s questions. How could she not see the difference here? “B-because they’re…” They. We. “...vampires are monsters, Morgan. They destroy lives and families and they need to be stopped.” The implication that she was the same as them hit her like a ton of bricks, and she physically backed away from Morgan, desperate to run away from any comparison. “I’m not like them. I’m not! Everything I’ve done has been to make sure I don’t end up like them.” She felt her breathing pick up again, and noticed Winnie pacing back and forth at her side, nervous energy building up between the two of them. “I tell hunters who they are to get rid of them, and make the world better, because I am not like them!” A sense of dread washed over her as feelings she didn’t want to acknowledge filled her up inside.

There was nothing she could do, really, to escape what she was. She could turn all the vampires on earth into hunters and she’d still be one of them. She’d still be a monster.

A sob escaped her and she turned away from Morgan, both her hands rising to rest on her forehead. “They took my mother!” Or she ran off with them intentionally, desperate to get away from her husband and unlovable daughter. “And I was ready to be gone. I was so close, I was ready, Morgan.” She was saying too much now, sharing privileged information that no one else knew, but it was out before she could stop it.

Morgan came up slowly to Vic and brushed her fingers over the woman’s. “I’m sorry,” she said gently. “I’m so very sorry. It was monstrous, what they did and how they made you feel. But they were just people being cruel. And you’re just a person too. You’re a person like anyone else and don’t have to be cruel. You can be kind and you can help and give instead of taking.” She tugged on her wrists, asking Vic to let her see her. “It’s okay, Victoria. You’re already a person. You don’t have to prove that to anyone. And you don’t have to hurt other people either.” She looked up at the woman, her wet face all sorrow and compassion. “Will you look at me? Please…?”

Vic’s fingers twitched when Morgan’s brushed against hers, desperate to reach out and clutch them. But hand holds and nice words didn’t fix things like they did in books and movies. They were empty promises, filling voids only temporarily until the person at the other end disappeared. She swallowed a lump in her throat, turning around to Morgan with a reluctant eye roll. She didn’t do this. She didn’t show weakness, but as she locked eyes with Morgan, she observed the same emotions on her face that she felt in her heart, and she realized how much Morgan’s knack for getting the undoable done rang true. “I help people”, she insisted, an unrecognizable gravel to her voice. “I’m not trying to prove anything. I’m trying to do what’s right.” There was a pit, gnawing and growing inside her, that she might have been willing to turn Morgan in if it came down to it. Would she have? Just left her out to dry, after all the patience and kindness Morgan had offered her?

Would it have mattered if Vic truly believed all vampires were monsters?

It was too much to think about, and it made things way more nuanced than she wanted them to be. Vampires were bad and she was good for getting rid of them, that should have been that. And she didn’t know how to feel about it, or even what to say now. After a while, she said, “I’m sorry if I hurt you. I...I’m sorry if I made you feel shitty, for what you are. I’ve met plenty of fine zombies.” And plenty of annoying ones.

Morgan lifted a hand to cup Vic’s face when she finally relented. The look of self-loathing didn’t change from species to species, or even age to age, in her experience. And Vic hated herself so very much, it was a wonder she let Morgan in at all. “You send people who are like you to their deaths, Victoria,” she said sorrowfully. “That’s it, right? You were used so cruelly, and the people who were good to you were taken away, and there was no one to give you love or stop you from using your grief to mutilate yourself. And that is so unfair and I am so sorry…” She brushed the corner of the woman’s eye, which seemed ready to overflow with tears. “You deserved so much better, and I’m sorry it wasn’t given to you.”

For several moments she did her best to hold the woman’s gaze. Then she took her hand and put it over her own neck. “I’ve been hunted three times already, Vic. Do you think it would help people if they succeeded? Do you think you should finish the job for them? Because I’m just a person, like you, and like the people you send to die. I’m not better than you or anyone else. Maybe I’ve made better choices, but that has fuck-all to do with how I was turned. So, which is it? Do we deserve to die or not?”

For a moment, Vic let herself sink into Morgan’s touch. There was a tenderness there that she hadn’t let herself experience in years- maybe even centuries. Morgan’s words, and the gentleness of her tone, danced through her brain. But then she heard them. And suddenly, she stood up straight- stoic and cold once again. “Shut up”, she commanded, taking a step back. Morgan was wrong, wrong wrong wrong, and Vic didn’t want to hear it. “You need to shut the fuck up, Morgan. You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” She wasn’t like them, not the hunters or the vampires. She did the right thing by helping the hunters, but she wasn’t a killer. Winnie barked, sensing the shift in Vic’s mood. Why the fuck was she still crying? She pointed her finger at Morgan’s chest, a strangled sob escaping her lips before she spoke. “You think you know everything, don’t you? You think you’ve got it all figured out. Well you don’t. There’s no ‘we’ here.” That part wasn’t true, and she knew it. But her anger was like a blanket that covered the rest of her, dark and weighted and letting nothing else out. At the moment, it felt justified, because Morgan was saying things that could not be true, not if she didn’t want her whole world view to be shattered in an instant. For a while, she stared at her, daring her to continue speaking. “Fuck you”, she spat before she got the chance. Fuck Morgan if she thought she was going to stay there and listen to nonsense like that. She walked past Morgan at double speed back toward the car, letting out a harsh whistle commanding Winnie to follow. As she walked further and further away, she wiped harshly at her eyes, tears still flowing freely from them. She wanted desperately to forget it all, but the pain in her heart already alerted her that again, life wouldn’t be so sweet.

Alone again, Morgan walked around the park until she found the knife she’d thrown aside. Then she sat on the ground, knees pulled up to her chest, and cried. She knew she was right and Vic was scared and guilty more than she was angry, but that didn’t make her world feel any less empty.

#p:morgan #p #p:wcwbf #domestic abuse tw #emotional abuse tw #parent death tw

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ladyxxdaydream · 3 years

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a year-in-review meme - for writers!

I thought up this writing meme for fic writers who might have been staring at the artists having their lovely and well-deserved collages of their work through the year - and wanted to join in the fun! also this works as a great reminder for those of you (and me) who’ve been thinking that they haven’t been writing as much as they want to, and allows you to go back to enjoy your old fic ;D

Rules: pick your favourite sentence from a work you posted / wrote during a month of 2020! if you didn’t write anything in any particular month, don’t worry! tell us what you were doing or use it as free space for runner-up sentences. after that, tag 8 people or more to do the meme!

That being said, here’s mine:

Tagged by: @rikacain !!

I’m tagging -- @flailinginlove @aviss @kiitsvne @stupidbadgers and @tea-blitz who doesn’t use tumblr anymore but WHATEVER. and anyone else who wants to do it! <3

~~~

JAN: (from Heavy Weight)

“Iruka felt Kakashi’s eye on him. Most people feared the Sharingan, and for good reason, but Iruka feared his real eye, his own eye. It had a way of seeing straight past Iruka’s defenses, no dōjutsu required, and deep into his soul.“

FEB: (from Old Pine)

“Do you want children?” Iruka asked, feeling like the timing was right.

Kakashi was quiet for a few moments. Iruka had learned to read Kakashi’s silences for what they were. It wasn’t hesitation like he had initially thought. Kakashi simply liked to think things through before answering immediately. Iruka liked that about him.

“I think we have four already,” Kakashi said, eyeing Sasuke, Naruto, Ino, and Sakura through the glass door.

Iruka laughed, but refrained from clarifying. He knew Kakashi understood what he meant and would answer him shortly. Iruka had also learned that Kakashi had a tendency to be indirect, before he got around to what he actually wanted to say.

MARCH: (from Mouthful)

“So, Kakashi.” Iruka said, unable to stand still any longer. “We both like what we see. Now what?”

He wasn’t usually this forward, but he was feeling it tonight. All of this playful banter was riling him up—it was his favorite way to flirt.

“I like a man whose direct,” Kakashi said, shifting his stance to lean an elbow on the table. “But hmm,” he hummed. “I don’t know.”

He gave Iruka a seemingly bored look, as if the obvious invitation to leave together was lost on him.

“Well, I like a man whose decisive, so I guess that rules you out.”

Kakashi let out a hard, surprised laugh. He downed the rest of his beer, and took Iruka by the hand, pulling him out of the bar without a word.

APRIL: (from A New Chapter)

“I don’t know how to put this,” Sakumo started, “but… what the hell is that?”

Kakashi looked at where his Father was pointing.

“Uh… a diaper…?” Kakashi guessed, not sure where this was going. They had about a million others, in every color and pattern you could imagine, folded and stacked in the closet. Iruka wanted to go the re-usable route, and several of his students mother’s were eager to gift them. Kakashi had been less than thrilled by the extra laundry.

“Yes. It’s a diaper, Kakashi. Very good. Tell me, did you have both eyes closed when you put it on?”

MAY: (From Cake Substitution No Jutsu)

“What’s this?” Iruka asked as Kakashi entered the kitchen, a fully dressed Tomo whizzing past them both.

“Ah, it’s a backpack,” Kakashi said, crossing over to Iruka excitedly. “I saw it on display in a shop window while doing Gai’s scavenger hunt. Its arms and legs are the straps, so when you wear it, it looks like it’s riding on your back.”

Iruka smiled, turning it around in his hands, noticing the zipper and a few pockets.

“That’s actually pretty ador—”

Iruka stopped speaking. The tail was tightly curled up inside plastic casing still.

“Kakashi,” Iruka said, feeling his eyebrow twitch. “Is this… is this a leash?”

“No. It’s a Puppy Pal… with an exceptionally long tail.”

“It’s a leash,” Iruka deadpanned. “A leash for a child.”

“You put Tomo inside a barrier the other day as a playpen,” Kakashi said, a matter of factly. “Why can’t I have some help controlling her?”

“That’s… that’s different!” Iruka exclaimed, feeling his cheeks heat in contradiction. “Would you like it if I put you on a leash, Kakashi?”

Iruka regretted it the second it came out of his mouth. He could practically see the wolfish grin forming beneath Kakashi’s mask.

JUNE: (from Use Your Imagination)

They laid in silence for a while, listening to the sounds of the night through the cracked window—distant cars on the street, a lone dog barking, upbeat music wafting from a floor below them.

Kakashi never wished for time to stop. In fact, he tried to keep himself as busy as possible—he chose a career that ate up most of his life for a reason. But right now? He wished time didn’t exist, hyperaware of how quickly it would pass before Iruka was back on a plane tomorrow.

He traced circles into Iruka’s lower back, watching as the brown skin pressed against his broke out in a wave of goosebumps. Iruka shivered, and then shifted, and Kakashi wondered if he was falling asleep.

He selfishly continued his adorations, wanting to keep Iruka in this realm with him for a little while longer. He expanded his rake, sliding his fingers up Iruka’s spine, skirting around his scar, and back down again.

Kakashi wasn’t one to believe in divine intervention, or soulmates. He’d acted in enough corny films to almost make him hate the notion entirely. But the fact that a man as perfect as Iruka had come into his life so serendipitously—and just as scarred as he was—was something he couldn’t overlook.

It made Kakashi’s heart ache with want, before that ache traveled down, and curled into his gut.

JULY: (from Love Me As You Are)

“And then you demeaned their lives by calling them your soldiers—”

“—is that not what they are?!” Kakashi cut across him, getting upset. “You’re as much a part of this system as I am, sensei! We both know the truth of it, whether we like it or not. I just called it by it’s name.”

“But they’re people too, Kakashi! Kids. They’re so much more than soldiers…”

“That’s not how I was treated,” Kakashi said before he could catch himself.

Iruka’s mouth fell open with a punched sound.

“Kakashi…”

His tone was soft and free of the anger it held a moment ago.

“Forget I said that,” Kakashi said, turning away, his cheeks heating up—the last thing he wanted was Iruka’s pity. “It doesn’t matter.”

“No,” Iruka said, shaking his head as he took a step towards him. “I’m not going to forget you said that. It does matter because you matter. You deserved to have somebody stand up for you too, Kakashi. I’m so sorry Konoha failed you.”

Kakashi’s eyes burned with tears—he bit his tongue, refusing to let them fall. Those words pierced him straight through the heart. It was everything he never knew he needed to hear.

AUG:

um I didn’t write anything this month because my wife and I separated annnd my whole life was uprooted as I moved to a different country ksjdhgkdsj

SEPT: (from I’ll Fall, If You Do)

Their relationship was going really well. There were days where Kakashi still turned him away, usually corresponding with the mornings he had therapy. It was frustrating, because Iruka just wanted to be there for him, for Kakashi to open up to him completely, but he didn’t push. He knew that would only make it worse. They didn’t fight anymore, but Iruka regularly had to correct the language Kakashi used towards himself, and sometimes it was irritating for the both of them.

But mostly… it was amazing. Their chemistry was incredible. Electric. And not just in the bedroom—they were never far from each other, drawn in like magnets, grounded by a simple touch or brush of hands. Kakashi hadn’t even left the room twenty minutes ago, and already Iruka felt the pull.

He jumped up from his seat and went to go find him.

OCT: (From Language Gap)

Iruka glanced out the bus window, his body instinctively knowing where they were about to pass. The building was still empty twenty years later, the brick still scorched, and Iruka’s nightmares were still plagued by the fire despite not being there when it broke out. He’d been sent on a delivery on foot — one steaming container of karē udon — two blocks away. He delivered to the same old lady everyday, and she always kept him longer than necessary, pressing sweets into his palm. When he had come back, the noodle shop was aflame. In his shocked state, he distantly heard something about a grease fire, before he was whisked away by the hand by his childhood friend Asuma, living with him and his father from that day on.

Iruka sighed and stood up, making his way towards the door since his stop was next. He really wished the city would do something about the building. Every time he saw it, it made him feel oddly exposed and vulnerable, like his past was staring straight at him.

He shook his head a little and stepped off the bus.

NOV: (From Brand New Sound)

Kakashi watched in stunned silence for a moment, trying to get his heartbeat under control as color effortlessly flowed from the artist’s hand onto the brick. Whoever this was, they had sort of become one of Kakashi’s heroes. People always said meeting your heroes was never a good idea—bound to be disappointing—because it brought them down to a human level.

But that was precisely what attracted Kakashi to this artist in the first place—the sheer, raw, humanness. The way they tackled hard emotions and vulnerability, baring everything through their work for others to see. It was honest and transformative, and Kakashi spent more nights than he could ever count wandering the streets when he couldn’t sleep, hoping to catch a mural he’d never seen before it was painted over. Sometimes he did, and sometimes he’d sit in front of ones he already knew and found new meaning in them.

DEC: (from Perks of Promotion)

“But why now?” Iruka insisted. “Why ask me out now? Right after I’ve made tokubetsu jounin? When we’ve known each other for years?”

Oh.

Kakashi paused, the realization dawning on him. He didn’t blame Iruka for being suspicious of his intentions; he’d heard the way people said ‘the chuunin sensei’ or ‘the chuunin desk worker’ like it was some kind of insult. It always pissed him off.

Kakashi stared at his feet for a moment before lifting his head again, leveling Iruka with a serious stare. “Because I didn't think I’d live past 21. Because it took me an obscenely long time to become a barely functioning adult. Because I never had the guts before… I-I still don’t, not really, if you can’t tell by how much I’m fumbling around here,” he said with a nervous laugh.

#kakairu #my fic #hatake kakashi/umino iruka #this is VERY long #i dont expect ppl to read it lmao #but it was really fun #*sweats* yeah i picked one sentence.....#also WOW #i published something every month (sometimes twice!!)#except for august #which is... understandable #this was a really cool idea #thanks for tagging me rika :D #writer meme

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queenjunoking · 3 years

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Wolf Taming pt 37

CW: Noncon - Pain - Petplay - Drugs - Kidnapping - Manipulation

Jude

I fought the urge to throw up when the canner kneed me in the stomach. I managed to grab her leash and pull, helping me straighten up while keeping her off balance.

“You stupid fucking mare. You ought to be fucking skinned alive, I doubt you’ll actually amount to much.” I pulled her close and smiled. “You have a long night ahead of you. How about you be a good girl an-”

A pain exploded in my head and I lost my grip on the leash. The canner headbutted me. I tried to get my bearings so I could catch her before she ran, but found the idiot managed to disorient herself as well. I watched her run diagonally down the path a bit before she fell over.

I used my foot to flip her over and sat down on her stomach. I smiled as she gasped and started to thrash to get out from under me. “I can’t wait to report this all to Eos. Z really ruined you, didn’t she?” Callidora tried to say something but the bit in her mouth muffled her speech. “Too dumb to realize you can’t talk? You’ll figure it out. Maybe. You haven’t even started your first day as a pony and you’re already acting out. You’ll soon learn there are worse things.”

She was surprised when I just got off her. I had made my point, I didn’t need to expend the extra energy. I gestured behind her. She looked skeptical, but I made sure I didn’t do anything to cause her alarm. Eventually she turned and froze. The stable hand that fucked up earlier was finally being taken down from the whipping brace. I had fun with her while I was waiting for Callidora to wake up. She had waited for a few hours in anticipation, suffered through the whipping while I milked all the fun out of it that I could, then I just left her there to think about what she did.

“You can’t say anything. You don’t need to. You’re a pony.” I took a step back until she was out of reach. “You have three options. The barn to do your run. The whipping brace to receive your punishment for what you did. Or you can try to run again and learn all about the other special roles a failure like you can fulfill. Personally I’d love to see you run, but I’ll let you make your own decision. Show me which option you want.”

I stood there and watched the gears turn in Callidora’s head. I watched her weakly struggle with her armbinder, trying to see if it was loose enough to escape without it being obvious that that was what she was doing.

She struggled to her feet, falling a few times in the process. The hoof boots took a lot of training to get used too, most of the ponies were incapable of walking without them once their training was complete. Not that I thought she’d make it through training.

Callidora watched as the stable hand was taken from the brace and carried to a small metal box and placed inside before it was locked. She turned to look at the trail leading off of the property. I’m sure safety seemed so close to someone like her. Finally she turned towards the barn and just stood there with her head hung. I slowly approached her to see if she would try and run, but she didn’t. I wrapped my hand around her leash and gave it a tug. She followed me closely back into the barn.

I couldn’t wait to see Z’s prized bitch break.

I wasn't sure what I was expecting after Rhiannon was dragged out of the room. I wasn't expecting Rayne to usher people back into the room we had been in earlier.

The party just started back up. Maids came around with more plates of food. People went back to chatting. I heard a few talking about the incident. Those conversations were quiet. It was generally frowned upon to speak of someone who was probably going to lose their membership to the Society.

Rayne and Flora went back to chatting with others, moving from group to group as the party began to wind down. Normally they would say farewell to their guests as they left, but they would probably be busy by the time everyone started to leave.

It took about an hour for the enforcers to arrive. The Society’s version of a secret police force. Though enforcers tended to be more concerned with keeping the Society hidden. They primarily investigated potential leaks and captured anyone that was deemed a threat.

I had dealt with them before and our relationship was strained to say the least. Getting pulled into a van and having a bag thrown over your head isn’t a great way of starting a relationship. I watched one of them look over at me and start approaching. I couldn’t help but sigh, I had hoped I wouldn’t have to deal with this.

The woman stopped a few feet away from me and pulled out a notebook out of the small purse around her shoulder. “Greetings Miss… Z? The Torturer?” She looked up from her notebook and raised an eyebrow. I wasn’t sure what her deal was exactly. She wasn’t dressed like the rest of them, she looked like she just came from a club. A light blue tube dress and some knee high boots.

“You obviously already know who I am, can we just get to whatever questions you want to ask so I can move on with my night?” My patience was starting to wear thin.

The woman just sighed and flipped to a new page in her notebook. “My name is Seraphina. I’m with the enforcers. Blah blah blah. Moving onto the questio-”

I just decided to interrupt her. She wasn’t cutting to the chase fast enough for me. “I saw what I’m assuming literally everyone else did. The box was empty, Rhiannon had it in her bag. No, I was never in the room. No, I never saw anyone enter that room before the party moved there.”

I could hear the pencil in the woman’s hands starting to snap as I brushed her off. She took a deep breath before she continued. “And, in your opinion, do you believe Rhiannon would have committed this crime against another Society member?”

I shrugged. “Rhiannon obviously likes jewelry, she was wearing a ton of it. She’s doing her probation with a metal smith. Maybe she was just jealous she couldn’t make anything as good as that necklace.”

After a bit the woman stopped scribbling in her notebook. “Thank you for your… assistance, Miss Z. If we need anything we’ll be in touch.”

I watched her walk away. I could see part of a tattoo peeking above the dress, it was a pair of angel wings. Some members went too hard on a theme. She went and joined back with the group of enforcers, I could tell she was irritated now.

I tapped a passing maid on the shoulder and told her to bring me a soda. She scurried off as fast as she could manage without breaking into a run. I walked up the stairs so I could survey the first floor from there. Activity was slowing, but I could see that things were still happening.

“Think Rhiannon did it?” Briar’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

“Mm… no.” I leaned against the railing and looked over at Briar. She was casually sipping on another glass of whatever alcohol they were serving. “Who would be dumb enough too do that?”

“Rayne and Flora seem to think she’s dumb enough. The enforcer’s dragged her out of here just a few minutes ago so I’m guessing they believe it enough.” Briar shrugged and leaned against the railing with me.

“No. Rayne and Eos hate each other. Flora and Eos’s families are both very powerful in this region. Rayne and Emerald’s families are close. Emerald’s family is known for their metal smiths and Eos’s niece just happens to be doing her probation with a competitor.” I paused for a moment as the maid returned with a glass.

“I’m afraid this is all I could find. Master Rayne and Lady Flora don’t often carry soda, but a recent guest of theirs left some of this brand behind. I-I’m not sure if it’ll be to your liking, it’s rather sweet.” I watched the maid gulp as she finished her attempts at mitigating potential damage.

I shrugged and picked up the glass. “It’s fine. Whatever. Go back to whatever you were doing.” She curtsied and quickly walked away. I took a sip from the glass and grimaced. Calling it sweet was an understatement. I had no idea what kind of drink this was but it was unreasonably sweet. I could feel the start of a cavity coming on from just the first sip.

“You were saying?” Briar’s voice once again pulled me back into the conversation.

“Hm? Oh. Yeah. I can’t prove anything, but I doubt that box ever had the necklace in it.” I took another sip and just decided to put it down on the nearby table. Hopefully a maid would see it later on. They’d probably stay up all night cleaning to make sure everything in the house was back to normal by the time Flora woke up tomorrow morning.

“That’s a pretty bold claim.”

“Not really. I don’t know that much about Society politics, but we’re talking about the big families. Rayne and Emerald’s families are close friends.” I gestured towards the woman in purple who was talking to one of the enforcers. “That woman over there went off with Rayne earlier. There was a small commotion earlier when we were changing rooms where that woman bumped into Rhiannon. Emerald probably gave Rayne the necklace, Rayne gave it to that woman, and that woman slipped it into Rhiannon’s bag.”

“Shouldn’t we say something?” I couldn’t really discern the tone in Briar’s voice. It didn’t sound like judgement exactly. She was tip-toeing right now.

“Why should we?” I glanced over at her, unsure why she was even asking.

“Rhiannon is going to get punished for something she didn’t do if you’re right.” I didn’t like the territory this conversation was beginning to enter. It was beginning to feel like all those times she’d question me about things back at the auction house.

It didn't bring me pleasure that she failed her probation and would be sold off. That didn't mean I was going to help her though. By now Society enforcers had probably taken her away to be held until this incident was resolved. Most likely the resolution would involve Rhiannon being sold as a slave and erased from her family tree. No Society family would recognize the existence of someone who had become a slave.

“It’s our word against the word of Rayne, Flora, and the rest of the party of very powerful people. If you haven’t noticed, neither of us are very powerful or high ranked. Not that I particularly care anyway. I’m not here to help Eos’s family, I’m here to ask for help from Rayne and Flora. Even if I cared about Rhiannon, trying to take her side would be a great way to make sure I don’t get their assistance.”

“Rhiannon isn’t Eos.” There was a kind of condescension in her voice. One I had heard before. The sound of someone who thought they were telling you something profound that you didn’t understand, but done delicately like they were afraid you’d break.

“I’m aware.” This conversation was starting to get tedious. Briar’s way of talking to people was grating. Small attempts to get bits of information that she thought would help her come to some big fundamental understanding about who they were.

She didn’t say anymore as we stood there. The party slowly emptied and the enforcers eventually vanished. All that was left was Briar, myself, and the maids cleaning up. We stood there for about half an hour before one of the maids approached us and curtsied.

“Miss Z, Master Rayne has requested your presence.” She beckoned to me and Briar followed a long. When the maid realized she was following she stopped. “I apologize, Miss Briar, but Master Rayne was specific in her orders. Only Z.”

I could see Briar opening her mouth to protest so I held up a hand. “It’s fine. I’m not planning on doing anything rash. We’re just talking.”

She looked at me for a bit before sighing and leaning against the rail again. “Fine. We’ll talk later.”

I followed the maid up two floors and down a hall. I ignored Flora’s art, I didn’t want to spend energy thinking about it. Today had been a very long day and I was running low on energy. It all had to be spent on this conversation.

We eventually reached a set of double doors at the end of a hallway with two maids standing in front of it. When they noticed us walking towards them they knocked on the doors, each grabbed a handle and opened them for us.

Saying the room was grand was an understatement. Though to someone who wasn’t Rayne or Flora I would probably describe it as gaudy. It was like the boutique lounge Flora and I were in earlier, but bright and crystal. It was tasteless and monotone. There was a bar area with bottles and glasses made out of crystal. A huge crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. Sitting on a couch under it was Rayne and Flora.

“Please, Z, sit down.” Flora smiled at me and gestured to the couch in front of them. I acquiesced and sat down across from them. I looked from Flora, to Rayne and back again. I wanted to see what they’d first, starting the conversation could end badly for me.

"Well, it's been a nice enough evening." Rayne put her arm around Flora and pulled her tight. "A branch of the Rosalind family has been clipped. I doubt Eos will put any real effort into getting her back, it'll just make her look bad when she fails. Either way she'll be jailed for a while before anything happens to her.”

"How unfortunate for the Rosalinds." I was running out of energy to play nice with. I just wanted to cut to the chase.

Rayne smirked at me. "Come on, Z. Surely seeing Eos's sister fail so spectacularly must make you feel better."

“Rhiannon isn’t involved with my issue. I don’t care what happens to her. My problem is with Eos and what she did.” I turned to Flora, trying to get the conversation on track. “Lady Flora, you said you were interested in hearing more about Sasha and my problem with Eos earlier, would you still like to hear more?”

“My darling Z.” Flora began as she laid her head against Rayne’s shoulder. “Rayne has informed me of your problems and I wish to help you. Eos’s niece has been arrested and taken away. Any friendliness between us is gone for a while. I never really cared much for Eos anyway. My lovely raindrop has told me that she has something planned to help you out, but has kept me in the dark about it.”

Rayne smiled and snapped her fingers, never taking her eyes off me. After a few moments a woman in a blue suit walked in. It was a professional look, not the look of someone who had come for Flora’s party. “This is Molly. She has written a contract for us.”

“What do we need a contract for?” Skepticism started to rise within me. She said she was going to help me. Why wasn’t she just going to help me?

“Z, the contract is to assure I’ll help you.” Rayne pulled my emblem out of her pocket and held it up so we could all see it before she tossed it to me. “You have completed your obligation to me, you can have your emblem back. Now we’re back at square one.”

I picked my emblem up off the table and went to put it in my pocket before I remembered I was wearing the dress. I sighed and put it back down. “So what now?”

“If I may, Master Rayne?” Molly piped up, her voice virtually monotone.

“You may.” Flora answered excitedly, literally on the edge of her seat. I’d never seen someone excited over a contract before.

“Miss Z.” Molly approached me and placed a small stack of papers on the table. “My group and I are experts on Society rules. We know how to get your slave back.”

My heart skipped a beat. “You do? Then why aren’t you doing it?”

Molly hesitated for a moment before she continued. “Our services aren’t cheap. Master Rayne has offered to pay for it if you fulfill the contract.”

Rayne smirked at me and laid back on the couch. I looked at her and then back to Molly. “And the terms?”

“Oh, Z. The terms are lovely. They’re a second birthday present for my lovely lilac.” Rayne raised Flora’s hand and gave it a kiss.

“Really? Another gift?” Flora’s excitement was obvious.

“Nothing too good for you.” She hooked a finger under Flora’s chin and tilted her head upwards so she could kiss her. It took all my restraint not to interrupt them. Once they parted Rayne turned her attention back to me. “The terms are simple. I’ve always wondered if a breaker can take what they give. If you sign the contract I pay to get your dog back. They start tomorrow morning. You’ll also start tomorrow morning. You’ll be taken to a chamber below the house and be subjected to the breaker or breakers of my choice. The process will end when Molly’s team reclaims your dog.”

The number of questions I had were a tornado ripping through my mind. I carefully tried to choose the ones that mattered most. “How do I know you’ll actually be trying to get her back and not purposefully extending the time?”

“My group’s reputation is on the line, Miss Z. As per the contract you can only be subjected to the breaking progress while we are working. The longer we take the worse we look. You will start at 8 in the morning. You will be given a one hour break at noon until one. At five at night they cannot do anything more to you, but they have the choice of how to store you. They aren’t under obligation to give you a room to stay in.”

“So they’ll probably be leaving me in some cell.” I took a deep breath and chose my next question. “The breaking process is supposed to break one’s spirit so they’ll be a compliant slave. Some of these processes can be quite damaging. What will happen to me at the end of this?”

“Oh Z, you can tap out at any time.” Rayne had the smile of a predator. She knew she had my attention and was going to savor everything she said. “You are a member. If you tap out two things will happen. We will still pay Molly’s team and your dog will be retrieved. However her ownership will be transferred to someone else of your choosing and you will renounce your membership and belong to us.”

“Excuse me!?” A voice came from the hall. Molly had left the door open behind her and Briar stood in the doorway.

“Raindrop you will have to punish one of the maids for not being around to close the door.” Flora frowned and looked up at Rayne. “Spoilsports seem to wander in if we leave the door open.”

“You can’t just give up your membership like that! You can’t own members! It’s against our rules!” Briar looked livid. She was ignoring me, all of her attention was on Rayne.

“Actually, Miss Briar.” Molly turned to Briar. “Members of Z’s rank can have their membership revoked. It is rare, but possible. If she signs the contract and taps out the fact that she signed it in the first place is argument enough that she shouldn’t be a member. Plus Rayne was one of those who supported Z for membership over slavery in the first place. Losing Rayne’s endorsement while she is agreeing to contracts like these doesn’t help her case. The contract is more of a formality in this sense.”

“You can do anything you want to someone being broken! T-these terms aren’t fair!” I picked up the contract and started to read through it as Briar tried to fight back against Molly.

“On the contrary, Miss Briar.” Molly pushed her glasses up and shuffled through some of the papers in her arms. “If you hadn’t interrupted me I would have continued explaining the contract. It states that options that would permanently maim or kill her are off the table. That includes things like burning, branding, high voltage shocks and the like. Arguably we aren’t even allowed to use Z’s own methods as she was fond of using ice cold enemas to deliver harsh crampings and pain. Water of that temperature can seriously injure someone.”

Briar was about to speak up again when I tossed the contract back on the table. “Signed. Pay Molly and we’ll start tomorrow.”

“No!” Briar snatched the contract off the table before Rayne could pick it up. “No one watched you do it, you need an actual witness.”

“Miss Briar, Z said out loud to all of us that she signed it.” Molly interjected, her monotoned droning never wavering.

“Also, Flora was watching.” I gestured to Flora. Briar looked at her and Flora gave her a small, smarmy wave.

“I…” Briar sounded defeated. She was silent for a moment before she turned to Molly. “I refuse to leave her alone. I demand to be allowed to stay while this happens.”

“Fine, fine, whatever.” Flora interjected before turning to Rayne. “As fun as this idea is, raindrop, how is this my present?”

“Oh my sweet sunflower.” Rayne raised Flora’s hand and kissed it once again. “I wracked my brain for weeks trying to think of the perfect present for you. You loved Z’s work, don’t you?”

“Her work is quite lovely. I’ve never had a canvas quite as nice as the ones that she made.”

“You have quite the collection of her work. So I thought to myself, maybe I could have her make more. But as much as I wanted you to have those canvases, it wasn’t quite the right answer. Then it hit me. You don’t get an artist to just infinitely create more art. It devalues the work.” She looked over at me with the predator smile once again, her teeth gleaming.

“No. The greatest piece you can add to a collection is the artist themself”.

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devilishsahbi · 4 years

Text

Dark Wings, Dark Words (1/??)

"I WOULD THINK YOU'D have a nice gallon of vodka or two after that, except you're sitting in an alleyway with a Red Bull and looking at the wall." The demon at the back door grinned at her with a sly smile, watching the half breed flip him off and take another chug of the energy drink. Her fingers slipped clumsily over the aluminum can, wet and darkened with blood, leaving smears wherever she rested her hands. "On a brighter note, I'm glad you saved him. It would have been awful if he had died."

"I doubt any of you care if he did die." [Name] fumbled in her scrubs for a wet wipe of some kind, at least to get some of the more vivid parts on her arms, but came up empty. "You certainly didn't mind when I was elbow deep in his rib cage pulling out that angelic monstrosity."

She pointed lazily to the broken dagger blade laying across from her in the alleyway. Even detatched from its hilt and the hand of the owner, it glimmered dangerously with golden runes along the flat edge, lethal to any demon who touched it except for her. Her human blood came in handy sometimes when she wasn't being hated for it.

"Yes, well, what can I say?" He shrugged. The earrings in his ears glinted under the artificial light of the lamp post outside the door. "I'm the patron demon of sadism."

"Good point." [Name] took a final drink and crushed the can in her palm. She rocked forward onto her feet, wiping her hands on the legs of her pants. Another pair ruined with demon blood. "He should heal up just fine now that that's gone."

"What do I pay you?" Zotiel crossed his arms and leaned against the door. She clearly wasn't going back inside. "Lucifer says you're very expensive to work with."

"Did he?" She laughed and toed off her shoes. Those were ruined too, doused in the blood her patient had vomited when she palpated his stomach. The white was indiscernible from the dark liquid. "Let me keep that blade and I'll consider it paid."

"Deal." Zotiel smiled, holding his hand out to shake. An oddly human gesture, but she accepted it anyways, not the least bit shocked when he squeezed hard enough to make her knuckles turn white. He inhaled deeply, much to her disgust and amusement, eyes fluttering shut. When he opened his eyes again, he gave her a tiny shrug, but wasn't apologetic in the least. "Sorry. Your pain smells amazing."

"I'll take that as a compliment." She pulled her hand free. "Or should I be concerned?"

"No. It was a compliment." His smile grew wider, his eyes darker. "You have my number if you want to explore it a bit more."

Not in this lifetime. She smiled at him one last time, turning on her heel and scooping up the dagger as she went. "Thanks for the offer, but no thank you. I'm going to head out now. Drop by if you're ever in the human world."

"Doubtful, but I'll keep it in mind. See you."

When [Name] was safely around the corner and far away from the storage building, she breathed a sigh of relief. Dealing with Zotiel had been a pain⏤Lucifer loved sending her on jobs that involved the demon, whether she wanted to or not, and got a sick kick out of every interaction she had with him. There had been far too many times where Zotiel got way too close for comfort and inflicted some kind of pain on her, even if it was something as simple as a pinch or poke.

If she'd had a choice, she wouldn't touch him with a thirty foot pole. And for extra measure, another ten feet, because she wasn't sure how far his range extended for sensing her pain. He'd even admitted, shamelessly, to finding even her emotional pain arousing.

The disgust she had felt when he told her that had followed her all the way to Lucifer's office.

"Ugh." She rubbed away the chills that raced up her arms and flicked out a cigarette from her back pocket. She never smoked often, but stressful situations like that one had her nerves on fire. It was why she had never completely dropped the habit, even after going cold turkey. "Why do I even bother?"

[Name] knew why she bothered. Without the underworld, she was nothing. Without the Devildom, she was nothing. The measly human side of her would fizzle away if she didn't have the Devildom to return to. It was the only thing keeping the awful urges at bay anymore. No one could pick out just what she got her power from, but she was abnormally powerful even for a half breed, alluring to even purebloods like Zotiel.

She had tossed around ideas like death or regret, but none of those seemed possible, seeing as she would be infinitely more powerful than she was now if that was the case. Whatever it was, it didn't require physical contact like Asmodeus, or the overabundance of eating like Beelzebub. It just was, and seemed to exist everywhere she went, even in Devildom.

[Name] shook herself roughly and took another puff of her cigarette. She didn't have time to bother with the origins of her power. She had to get to Lucifer's office, report her success, and return to the human world, take a quick three hour nap, and repeat it all over again. If she wasn't half demon, she would be dead ten times over already. Her stamina was astonishing, her lack of sleep even more so.

Luckily, no one questioned the back-to-back forty eight hour shifts she took without a wink of sleep.

She reached the House of Lamentation in record time, pocketing the dagger where no one could see or even sense it. One of her sorcerer friends, Solomon, had been kind enough to provide her with the spell to hide such a relic, but only after he wheedled a pact out of her and promised to only use it if he was dying.

To her surprise, she found Asmodeus and Mammon on the front steps, one sulky and the other irritated, glancing back to the door every so often. They would meet gazes, then look away, and repeat the entire thing. She wasn't even sure they heard her walk up until she was right on top of them, scaring Mammon to the point where he looked like an agitated cat, jumping a few feet in the air.

"Damnit, [Name]! What do ya think you're doin'?!"

"[Name]!" Asmodeus cooed, vastly more excited to see her, his pout taking a one-eighty as he cocooned her in a tight hug. The kiss he pressed to the side of her neck was a greeting at this point, even when he lingered a bit too long for her comfort. "It's so nice to see you again! I was worried Lucifer had fired you when you didn't show up for the raid last week."

"Could'a used your help then," Mammon supplied, in that same accusatory tone. He shoved Asmodeus aside and brought her into a hug of his own, though, even though he was as stiff as a board. He had taken to doing that after she yanked a spear out of his stomach and kept him from bleeding out by loaning him some of her power when he was worryingly weak. "Beel got sick an' Belphie took out a few minions."

[Name] patted his back and smiled when he parted from her, retreating to what she assumed was a comfortable distance for him. Any closer and he'd probably combust on the spot. She scratched her nose, cringing at the smell of blood. "Sorry, I was busy that whole week. My mother hasn't been the best lately."

"Oh! Mrs. [Surname]!" Asmo cheered. He knew the demon woman from a few centuries ago, she remembered, after she'd nearly snapped his neck for getting too close to her with the intent to seduce her. "The patron of disease. How is she?"

"Ya know she could just come back down here," Mammon suggested, leaning against one of the stone statues dotting the front lawn. "That's probably why she ain't feelin' too hot."

[Name] shrugged. "You know I can't make her, and besides… She refused. I do what I can. But why are you both outside?"

Asmodeus went sulky again. "The king released the prince from his bonds last week. If you'd been here, you would have heard everyone gossiping about it! And he's quite good looking, If I have to say myself⏤"

"Lucifer did somethin' to get on his bad side," Mammon finished. He tried to look unconcerned, but she could pick out the worry on his face like a beacon. "Somethin' 'bout defyin' him."

"Lucifer and his insufferable pride," she sighed. She rubbed her forehead, uncaring about the blood smearing across the skin. She could only imagine what Lucifer had told the prince. "Anything else I should know?"

"Yes!" Asmodeus raised a finger. "You probably shouldn't go inside. I don't think Lucifer wants the prince to know you're here, or that you even exist. I'd suggest just going topside and reporting in later."

[Name] groaned. "I have a shift tomorrow, I can't do that. What's so bad about this Prince, anyways? He can't be that bad…"

Asmodeus and Mammon exchanged glances.

"Uh… He's pretty bad." The demon of greed screwed his face up as he recalled something. "I keep reportin' to him, so I'd know. I think ya should be careful around him. He's even got Luci on a tight leash."

Lucifer on a leash was something she couldn't imagine. But with the way that her two friends were talking about him, she figured she'd better take them seriously and just report later, like Asmo had said. She sighed and stretched out her arms, preparing her power to teleport back to the human world.

"Well, I guess I'll just report later." [Name] shrugged and let Asmo pull her into a quick side hug in farewell, feeling the uncomfortable sensation of pulling on her magic reserves. "It was nice to see you two. I'll be back when⏤"

Her mouth froze when the door opened and power pushed past the wards protecting the house. All at once, her teleportation spell fizzled out and she was out of breath, suffocated by the energy that swelled past the barriers. Asmodeus's face twisted up into worry and slight horror, reaching over to steady her before she really lost her balance and face planted.

Not even Lucifer managed to overpower her like this, and he had been one of the first angels, once upon a time. Or he was at least stifling his to where she could converse with him comfortably without succumbing to her baser instincts⏤the demonic side that always purred at the thought of power.

Lucifer came out first, but he wasn't the source. His energy was calm and cool, most of the time, and not boiling hot, as if she were standing too close to a fire in an insulated jacket. He was frowning, displeased, and it deepened even further when he caught sight of her steadying herself on Asmo's arm, winded.

The demon inside her was unusually quiet.

"Whatever ya do, don't provoke 'im," Mammom advised, moving to her other side to rest a firm hand on her shoulder. He completely ignored the bits of gore left on her scrubs. "Don't talk unless he speaks to ya. Just be quiet. He'll ignore ya."

It didn't stop the dread creeping up her legs like phantom chains.

Out next came the source of the power⏤the topic of their discussion.

The Prince of Devildom.

[Name] was sure that if she wasn't so winded, her breath would have hitched at his appearance. He was tall, a few inches more than Beel, and he was already tall enough. His skin was golden bronze, nearly the same color as Mammon's, unusual as nearly everyone else was as pale as the moon. His hair was a deep crimson, reminiscent of fresh blood, and even from her distance, she could tell his eyes were a bright, burning gold.

Her fingers tightened in Asmo's bicep. He mistook it for fear and patted her knuckles soothingly.

His clothes, though, were spattered with blood. The white shirt he wore was ruined beyond saving, and behind him, a butler held a blazer in his arms, stone faced and nonchalant. [Name] probably admired his physique more than she should have, gradually regaining her breath and watching the muscles in his arms flex when he crossed his arms.

He was terrifyingly handsome.

She nearly forgot she was supposed to be breathing for a moment.

The prince ignored Lucifer entirely, a slight that showed as he walked past the former angel and walked down the steps at a leisurely pace. His butler followed, his own power nothing to scoff at, and she realized, belatedly, that they were walking towards them.

This time she felt Asmo and Mammon's grip on her tighten, not her own.

Her concern was for nothing. They walked past without a glance in their direction, the butler not even regarding them with a glance.

She sighed in relief. It was too soon.

[Name] heard a quiet sniff and it didn't belong to Mammon or Asmo. Lucifer's face drew tight. The demons beside her stiffened.

She should have known it wouldn't be that easy.

The prince paused half a foot from them, his head tilting towards her direction. The butler moved as he turned on his heel, poised easily to look back at her halfway.

[Name] swallowed the curse that was bubbling up in her throat.

"A half breed?" She felt his scorching gaze sweep up the length of her body, from her toes to her head, lingering on the blood dyeing her arms red, then at the necklace on her throat. Her mother's necklace. She had to fight not to tuck it in her shirt. "I didn't know Lucifer kept half breeds in his employ."

"Yes." The butler nodded. "A recent addition. A healer."

Asmo's quiet intake of breath wasn't lost on her. Clearly this demon had some sort of knowledge that they didn't.

"What's your name?" Those eyes were fixed on her again, boring into her own like molten gold. Now she really couldn't breathe.

Mammon's tightening grip on her shoulder, close to fracturing bone, told her to answer.

"[Name]," she answered, but it was strangled, breathy as she struggled underneath the power he was letting off. His eyebrows lifted, ponderous, then he turned away. She felt as if someone had left her out to melt on a hot sidewalk.

"Pretty name." His mouth quirked up, just a bit. "Let's go, Barbatos."

[Name] melted just a little more.

And then they were gone, like they had never even been there to begin with. She took a breath and slumped against Mammon, who was for more rigid than Asmo, and rested her hand over her chest, wincing at the ache from having her breath stolen for so long.

"This is bad," Mammon sighed, wrapping his arm around her back when her legs went wobbly. "Really bad."

"Definitely." Asmo shook his head in agreement. "Let's get you inside, [Name]. You can report while you recover."

The whole walk inside, those golden eyes haunted her.

Not even Lucifer's angry frown could stop it.

#obey me #mafia au #diavolo x reader #obey me diavolo

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amarabliss · 4 years

Text

Oaths and Hearts - 12 (Ignis Scientia/REader)

So this is a crossover between FFXV and Dragon Age Inquisition.

You fell through a rift into the fade fighting the demons you swore to protect your world from. When you popped out you were no longer in the lands of Ferelden instead trapped in Insomnia. The gracious king allowed you to say recognizing power when he saw it. One thing led to another and now you were part of the procession of the prince to his wedding years later. Before the final battle, after years of fighting, losses, and love…your friend…your king…Noctis has asked you to change it all…

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

Gladio looked across the fire as his friend pushing his food around. Food that he made and was amazing despite being under so much pressure, “Iggy…”

“Yes?” He didn’t even look up at him.

“We’re gonna go home…” Gladio watched him look up finally, “and you’re going to marry that girl.”

Ignis swallowed looking at him for a long time, “I know that.”

“We’re so close, don’t worry.” Noct sat down next to him with his second helping, “Our plan is solid.”

Ignis looked back into the fire, “I know that too.”

“Then what is it?” Prompto spoke after a minute.

“I can’t help but feel that Y/N is distressed…” He told them as he looked back at the plate in his hands.

“So call her.” Gladio told him knowing exactly why he hadn’t yet, “One five-minute call will not hurt anyone…”

“I can’t risk it. We’ve worked too hard these past months to get everything for Noct. We’ve done so much to prepare…” Ignis sighed shaking his head, “We’re too close to finishing this. I trust her…she’ll be fine.”

Gladio stood up throwing his scraps into the fire, “Then we’ll just have hurry it up to get you and Noct home. You both can’t be leaving pretty women like that to fend for themselves.”

“Insomnia seems like a dream…” Noct said quietly before taking a bite.

“Yes it does…it’s good dream though.” Ignis looked at him with a smile, “One we’ll see again and rebuild.”

“Here, here.” Noct smiled at him clinking his cup against Ignis’.

Ignis gave Noct one final smile before pulling out his phone. He stared at the image of you and him that Prompto had kindly taken of the pair.

They had stopped in Lestallum for the first time. It was close to evening, so everyone had decided sleep was the best option. You wanted to see the view from their room, since yours faced the power plant.

The picture was intimate. Shoulder to shoulder with him, your profiled face was cast beautifully in the setting sun you smiled up at him as he stared down into your eyes. He couldn’t remember what you had said, but it had made him grin. He missed you…

He could only pray to the Six that you were being careful and taking care of yourself and his child. He let out another sigh as he put his phone away going back to his food. He didn’t want you to do everything alone…but what else was he supposed to do? He had a duty to Noct to retrieve the crystal and keep him safe.

But at what cost…

“This is it.” You stared at makeshift camp as Cor pointed to specific areas to be aware of, “It isn’t a whole lot, but it’s as close as we can get without drawing too much attention to ourselves.”

“I see Hunters…do they know what is about to happen?” You frowned hoping Cor hadn’t led anyone here under false pretenses.

“Yes, everyone here wants to see Noct back in Insomnia and on the throne.” Cor nodded helping you down the ramp, “We’ve got Glaives, Crownsguard, Hunters, and volunteers.”

“Volunteers? Really?” You took a deep breath as you felt a wave of kicking.

“People aren’t satisfied with Neif rulers.” Cor watched you carefully, “I would suggest talking to our camp’s doctor, he came from Altissia.”

“I intend to, first I’d like to see what our plan is.” You stepped with him entering the camp. Many people began to stare, something you had gotten use to when you became Inquisitor, but this was different, “I’m not as fragile as everyone thinks.”

“I didn’t say you were fragile, you are simply carrying a potential member of the royal family.” Cor turned to you when you stopped.

Your tone was hushed as you stepped up to him, “How many people know that here?”

“…No one…just me.” He took a step back under your intense gaze, “That may need to change, but it will only include those you consider trustworthy.”

“Fine…” You crossed your arms nodding for him to continue, “But we have to make one thing clear…no one needs to know ever…unless it’s completely necessary, and I mean completely necessary.”

“Understood.” Cor walked over to a tent holding open the flap for you. You stepped inside and had the strangest feeling of déjà vu. A group of individuals stood behind a table looking over a map, “These are our…generals…I suppose.”

They all looked up to you. You recognized the uniforms in front of you, a firm looking man stood as the Glaive, a young woman sported her City Guard symbol, and as always there was Dave representing the Hunters, “Pleasure to meet you all.”

“This is the one who thinks we can get past an entire legion of soldiers.” The man in the Glaive uniform crossed his arms staring you down.

“Mm…” You stepped forward looking at the map, “More like half a legion…I’m Y/N…you are?”

“Oooooo she’s got you pegged already, Tor…” The young woman smiled at him as he glared. She turned to you with bright eyes, “That’s Artorius, I’m Kori, and from how relaxed Dave here got when you walked in seems like you know him.”

You smiled at her a little, “Yeah I’ve ran a few different things for Dave. Good to see you.”

Dave smiled at you before stepping over giving you a big hug. You tensed a little, “You look beautiful.”

“Oh…uh…thank you.” You patted him on the back a little, “Uh…”

“Sorry…” He pulled away looking you up and down, “Last time I saw you, you were sportin’ hiking boots and a raincoat holding out a dog tag to me…You wear your new state well.”

You could feel yourself tearing up a little, so you quickly stepped to the map, “So what’s our first draft looking like?”

“Are you sure you-”

“Artorius, was it?” You interrupted him setting your jaw as he stood square across from you, “If you were going to say anything that has to do with my pregnancy, I advise you to reconsider…now I’m hoping what you were going ask ‘are you sure you’re qualified?’”

Kori snickered a little as Dave moved back next to her. Cor stepped next to you looking at the map, “Maybe you should tell us a little bit about your experience, I’m sure it would put everyone at ease. One thing is for sure, Tor…Nyx trusted her.”

You watched Tor’s face flicker with a pain you were familiar with. The pain you felt when you knew someone who was never coming back, “…you knew Nyx?”

“Yeah, he took care of me…he was like a brother.” You hand went over your stomach protectively, “He gave up a lot to protect Insomnia…none of this would matter without him.”

Tor looked away wiping a hand over his face before he leaned over the table staring at the map, “We can enter here…by boat…the problem is getting past patrols of Magitek units of all kinds. They will wipe the floor with us before we even get close to the citadel.”

“Well why not create a diversion on the bridge?” You pointed at two points on the map, “Then enter here and here, using smaller forces to hide better and pick off what we can.”

“Because it’s still suicide.” You looked at Cor who crossed his arms, “We have to move as a solid force. The Glaive don’t have their powers.”

“Too bad we can’t just phone the king and get a new contract.” Tor took in deep breath looking at Kori, “We have enough Glaive that we could stand a fighting chance if we had the juice.”

“Why are we here?” You leaned over to Nyx as you both stood in the balconies of the throne room. Most of the Glaive was present with their hoods up, “Not that it’s bad to see you all in your uniforms. You all look very serious.”

“Shh.” Nyx smiled a little getting you fall silent. Finally, he leaned over whispering, “We all bare witness to a new Glaive making his contract with the king.”

“Contract?” You looked at him, “You mean…swearing fealty?”

“No…well yes, but there’s more to it.” He watched three young Galahdians step into the throne room, “We have an arrangement with King Regis, rather the ruling Lucian. We swear to serve him and Insomnia, and in return our people get safe-haven and the powers we use to protect the citizens.”

You stared at him for a long time. Enough that it made him give you a strange look, “What?”

“That doesn’t seem like a fair arrangement. You all are the front line, right? And you’ve taken me to the refugee quarter…” You looked away as the Glaives kneeled in front of the king, “You claim to have so many advancements, but your people are crammed into a small barely habitable location.”

“I didn’t say it was fair.” You looked back to Nyx. His face was solemn as each Glaive pulled out their blade from their belts, “We did what was necessary to save our people. Galahd…wasn’t safe…for hearth and home.”

“Nyx…” You reached over to take his hand. He looked at you as your fingers laced with his. You both stared at one another as Regis read off what was required to accept the power he was bestowing.

Nyx looked away finally unable to keeping his emotions in check, “It…it’s not all that bad. I mean…Like you said…Look pretty hot in my uniform.”

“Oh, right…all looks no brains…” You smirked a little making you both start laughing getting a few glares from the rest of the assembly.

“Shh…we’re being serious.” Nyx whispered at you as he tried not laugh. He looked at you as you squeezed his hand again, “Thank you.”

“For what?” You watched as each Glaive stood up reciting an oath to the king, holding the dagger out in front of themselves.

“For recognizing that this all bullshit…but necessary.” You looked at him as he kept a smile but you could see how much he hated all this, “I mean there’s some killer perks, but…it’s demanded obedience, a leash…and we wear the collar proudly to make sure the rest of our people have a chance to one day go home.”

You stared at him as the next Glaive stepped forward to swear his oath, “We should ditch…”

“What?” He looked at you as you began looking around, “No…we can’t…”

“Blame me…” You smirked backing up slowly pulling him a long, “You have to protect me…and I’m fleeing the ceremony.”

He laughed a little following you out, “I thought I was a bad influence.”

“Everything looks good, this Wedge, has been taking care of you expertly.” You snapped out of it looking at the doctor as he put the ultrasound equipment way, “You have a healthy baby boy on the way.”

“Perfect.” You wiped off your belly before pulling down your shirt, “I’ll be back if I need anything…”

“Ah…wait.” He stood up looking at you with concern, “Just because you’re healthy doesn’t mean you’re not on restrictions.”

“Restrictions?” Your eyebrows raised slightly, “You do know we’re about to retake a city, Dr. Reed?”

“I am fully aware of the reasons we have all gathered here and I’m prepared to treat them when they need help.” He smiled at you as he adjusted his glasses, “But you’re a woman in a very special state that only you can experience. You have been in an extremely stressful situation the past few months and that isn’t helpful to you or your child.”

“My whole life has been frontlines…I’m not stressed. Not doing anything, that stresses me.” You stood up looking at him as you grabbed your jacket, “I know what I can handle…I won’t be marching into the line of fire, but I’m not going to stop helping.”

“I just want you to consider taking a step back.” He stood up tapping the medical chart against his hand, “I can’t make you do anything, but you should rest more then not, and drink plenty of fluids.”

“I’ll take your advisements to heart.” You told him as he walked you out of the one structure located in the center of camp, “I just want to reunite my family…and taking back the city will help with that.”

“I understand.” He nodded a little letting the door shut behind him, “Insomnia is not my home, but it was my mother’s. I have a small connection, but she always said Insomnia was a city of hope. Helping everyone here is my way of keeping her alive.”

You smiled at him as he begged you one more time to take care of yourself before letting you leave. Everyone was here for the same reason. Insomnia was their home, and it was a city of hope like he said. But it wasn’t the city, it was its people that made the hope real. You’d figured that out right away with the help of Ignis and Nyx.

They were the very definition of the people of Insomnia. A high born who was tactical and maneuvered the world of politics to try and assist everyone no matter of station. Then a refugee from another world who never wanted anything but to live out his life in peace, took the leashed power in order to never let someone lose what he lost under his watch.

“Whoa there…” You tensed up feeling someone catch you as you ran into them. You looked at them seeing Artorius giving you a small smile as the busy camp moved around you both, “You alright?”

“Yes…sorry…I was…somewhere else.” You swallowed as he let go and the sound of the chattering camp came back to volume.

“Not a problem. Just be careful walking around here. Not everyone is trained and there are a lot of pointy objects.” He smirked as you laughed a little, “I joke, but seriously…take care. If Nyx was your like your brother, he’d figure out how to come back and kick my ass.”

You watched him turn away from you as the question began bubbling up, “Artorius…”

“Tor…” He turned to you again, “Artorius is just too much…and don’t start on how there’s already a Cor…believe me been down that road too many times already.”

“Right…Um…” You stepped close to him glancing around a little, “How much do you know about Glaive contracts?”

His eyes narrowed on you, “Uh…a little…why?”

You cleared your throat as you crossed your arms over your chest, “I…have a theory…but I need to know what is required in order for the contract to work.”

He seemed hesitant, but finally looked around a little before holding up three fingers counting down, “Okay…three things…a person who can wield magic, be on Insomnia soil, and a member of the Lucian line to contract with.”

“Right…so any member could really lend their abilities, as long as the contract is worded correctly?” You glanced up at him, “Even a child?”

“I…suppose…as long as they have a direct tie to the crystal.” He looked at you concerned as he shifted on his feet, “What is this about?”

You looked around for a moment seeing too many people around, “Find Cor…meet me in my tent when you do.”

“Y/N…Y/N!” You didn’t look back as he called after you as you strode off. You had to take a few moments to really think about what you were about to suggest.

You paced back and forth when you reached your tent. Would it be possible? Would it be worth it? How could you present this without letting everyone know about Ignis’ lineage…Would it hurt your son?

What about Ignis?

“Y/N…” You turned looking at a worried Cor entering your tent. He looked you over from head to toe, “What’s wrong? Tor came to me…” “Nothing is wrong.” You shook your head raising your hands to try and calm him down, “I’m fine…everything is fine.”

Cor looked back to Tor, “Then what is going on?”

“Don’t look at me…she’s the one who told me to come get you.” Tor shook his head pointing at you.

They both looked at you expectantly. You took in a shuttered breath before you spoke, “I think…I think I know how to get the Glaive their powers.”

Tor stood up straight as Cor took a step close to you realizing what you were implying as he whispered, “…Y/N…you cross this line there is no going back…”

“That’s why he’s here.” You stared into his eyes for a moment, “We need them…it may be the only way to win…”

“What is going on?” Tor stared at you both as you stepped from behind Cor.

“I can’t tell you how it all works…truth is I hope it doesn’t work because it would be a lot more of burden if everything is true.” You stepped toward him putting a hand on your stomach when you felt a kick, “But my son has Lucian blood…”

Tor stared at you before looking down to your belly, “…that’s…if…who?”

“Wrong question…is it a chance?” You stood in front of him as his eyes met yours again as it all clicked into place what you were suggesting, “Do you think it’s possible that it could work?”

Tor stood there for a long heavy pause before taking a deep breath, “There’s only one way to find out.”

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bittermarrow · 5 years

Text

Antiseptic // (Thomas Hewitt x Reader)

A/n: I’ve got a sad one here for you guys, no clue why I torture myself writing angst, it's a bittersweet thing~ Anyways, this is some pretty heavy stuff and I wouldn’t read it if you’re uncomfortable with or are currently getting over self-harm.

Prompt: You were careful, he wouldn't find out, no one would find out.

Warnings: Graphic mentions and implied practice of self-harm (cutting), sensitive topics centered around depression.

Words: 3800+

. . .

You stared absently out of the kitchen window above the sink as your hands scrubbed robotically at the dinner dishes. At this point, you could probably wash dishes in your sleep but you were particularly distracted today, you just gazed out into the darkening sky as the evening stretched on. Looking down at your soapy hands, and realized that in your daze, you hadn’t even registered the fact that you’d been washing the same dish for the past ten minutes. Sighing and giving your head a small flick to the side as if to physically shake yourself out of it, and placed the spotless plate into the drying rack.

The Hewitt family was a full house, so there was inevitably plenty of tableware that needed to be cleaned every night after supper. Everyone in the house had to pull their own weight, so you were assigned dish-duty— and a well lot of other things at first- as soon as you’d dubiously consented to become a member of the family. Out of all of the skeptical Hewitts, Luda Mae trusted you the least, so you had a lot to prove those first dreadful months of staying with them. It was hard work, and you had a really hard time adjusting to this kind of life, you were a city kid! You weren’t used to living that way, and so it was a huge strain on not only your physical health but your mental health as well.

You hid it well in the beginning, just soldiering through all the things Luda had you do without complaint, and still, she and many of the others were incredibly hard on you about every little thing. You started losing a lot of sleep after your prescription of night meds ran out, and since you were too intimidated to ask to pick up more you just suffered silently. You were sluggish and zombie-like while you did your chores after that, and if Luda noticed she sure as hell didn’t say so. If anything she got even harsher because your sleep-depravity started to negatively impact your work ethic.

Thomas was worried about you and it showed, but you were too exhausted to explain your problems even to him.

And then everything went to shit when you ran out of antidepressants. If you thought the work was bad before, it became downright miserable when you started going through withdrawals from the medication and your urges to cut went through the roof. The day you just gave up while mopping and collapsed from the sheer exhaustion had been the day everything just came out, it was the first time you lashed out and it surprised everyone.

But it got better after that, at least in a really fucked up way. Because Luda Mae let up on you after that, it was like she finally understood that she could trust you. But that wasn't what made the most of a difference, after that night you picked back up and an old habit. You’d sworn to never cut again, you did. But you were younger then, you were medicated then. It was torture, but a sweet kind of misery that came with masochism, the physical pain of an injury made you forget about the emotional turmoil.

But like any pain pill, the relief only lasts for so long until you need another dose, another series of cuts in your case. If you thought hiding it from your birth family was hard all those years ago, keeping it from the Hewitts made it seem like child's play. It was easier when only Thomas cared, but now you have a whole family looming over you.

You had to dress rather oddly to accommodate the relentless Texas heat, and also your compulsion to hide your scar littered forearms. You allowed yourself to lay off the layers of clothing like hoodies and sweatshirts in favor of thin long-sleeved shirts and dresses. They looked a bit strange with jean shorts and the occasional skirt, but you were cool enough and concealed from the waist up so you were happy. Most nights you were brave enough to wear some of Thomas’s plain T-shirts to bed, but you had separate rooms so there really was no risk.

Speaking of the gentle giant you've found companionship in, your relationship was… a bit odd in itself. It was something that constantly danced on the borderline of closely-knit friends and lovers. It was like the… ‘people who like each other and know they like each other, but are too shy to initiate an exclusive relationship,’ trope. But not in an awkward way, you've never felt more comfortable with someone in your life!

Shaking yourself from your escalating thought process, you set the last dish inside the drying rack of multicolored plates. Flicking the water from your hands you wiped down the flat surfaces of the counter and table and gave the kitchen a once over before swiveling in your heel to retreat to your room as soon as possible.

Your arms were itching madly, but you had to remind yourself that you were still in public eyes. Your mind kept flashing with images of the blade you kept under a stack of magazines in your drawer. Your scabs were tingling almost enough to burn with the anticipation of steel possibly re-opening them. This is what addiction feels like, your body begging you for more of that one special thing, for others it's drugs. For you it's pain, the rush of awareness your nerves send to your brain that lets the sting overpower the gnawing emptiness that depression leaves.

You wouldn't wish this burden upon anyone, not even Hoyt who you’d loathed for months after joining this family. This addiction was a slow death that ate you from the inside until it demanded to spread on the outside, the cuts were like breathing spaces for the dark ocean to bleed out. It was a way to release some of the self-hatred that stayed bottled up inside for too long, and maybe that's why it was so addictive.

As if karma simply felt like pissing on your flame today you ran into the exact person you did not want to see right then. You collided with a hard chest just as you turned the corner, and two large hands shot out to your shoulders to keep you steady. Thomas’s dark brown eyes stared down into yours and felt yourself relax in spite of your initial panic, no one has ever been able to do that to you just with their eyes alone.

“Oh, sorry, Tommy! Wasn't paying attention, I just finished up in the kitchen.”

He grunts in response and nods in understanding, his firm grip on your upper arms loosening but not retracting. Simply holding. Things you noticed either because of your body’s hyper-awareness in that area or simply because the only way Thomas can truly communicate with you is through touch and body language. His fingers tug lightly, but not insistently and you gladly comply, leaning into him. You wrap your arms around him and press up against his warmth as his strong arms coil around you and squeeze.

His hugs were the absolute fucking best.

Without realizing it your burning urge to scratch, to cut was dissolving under the pressure of his embrace. That had never happened before. Now instead of longing for something sharp to pierce more holes into your skin, all you wanted now was to drown in Thomas’s affection.

You sighed happily into his chest hearing a similar exhale of what sounded like relief rumble from Thomas’s throat. To him, the moment he got to touch you was the highlight of his day. Touch-starvation made even the smallest kind touches and displays of affection seem almost orgasmic. Not stepping away from him, you simply tilted your head up and rested your chin in his sternum to see him properly.

“Are you done for the day?” You asked eagerly and rejoiced when he nodded with an affirmative noise. He’s practically already given you the ‘okay’ to drag him to your room, but you don't want to be intrusive if he was doing something before running into you. “Is it cuddle time then?”

An excited grumble rises from him and he nods frantically, clearly not opposed to the idea at all. It's all you need to hear before sliding past him and tugging him along to your bedroom, his heavy footsteps making the floorboards creak and groan as he trails after you as if on an invisible leash.

You know full well he’d be unmovable if he so chose to be, he’s a hell of a lot stronger than you. But you have him wrapped so tightly around your finger that you don't have to worry about that. Wherever you go, he goes willingly.

You twist the doorknob and nonchalantly toss it open, leading Thomas into your personal inner sanctum as you called it. No one came in uninvited or without permission from you, so you never had to worry about the two of you being bothered. You give half the credit to Thomas who was a stickler about your privacy, and it was safe to say that most of the family was intimidated by him. The other half went to the Hewitts’ respect for you, which was hard earned. But Thomas has been the only exception to this rule since… well, a long time. A lot of the time he came to sleep with you or vise versa since you had night terrors and he didn’t like being alone at night. This fact compelled you to confide in each other, which normally just meant going to each other’s rooms at 2 in the morning and sliding under the covers.

Friends can do that, right?

You flopped backward onto your bed with a sigh of relief, your back pain already beginning to dull from being hunched over a sink for the past hour and a half. You snort when Thomas follows the suit and the force from his added weight causes you to be pushed off the mattress and into the air before bouncing back down, the springs squeaking underneath you.

You just rolled over and draped yourself over him, wrapping one leg over his and an arm over his sternum. Thomas sighed deeply and wedged an arm under you to hold you close, resting his chin on top of your head. You were content just lying here like this, and never moving.

If only things were that simple.

. . .

Your eyes flutter open when an intense tingling itch shudders down both of your arms, and it’s bad. It was withdrawal, your body was punishing you for not releasing the toxins of your unrelenting negative energy. You let out a soft whimper, beginning to tremble as your blood seemed to gather and pulse in the blood vessels running through your forearms. It was dark in your room, the clock reading 2:31 AM, you must’ve fallen asleep with Thomas earlier. No doubt you felt his huge chest rising and falling underneath your cheek and upper body that was resting on top of him.

Your sleep-drugged mind started racing with flashes of the knife in your drawer, just begging to be dragged across your itching skin. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to push all of the pain, the temptation away. You felt a lump form in your throat, and your eyes began to sting with salt, muffled hiccups forced themselves from behind your teeth as you sucked in too large of an amount of air.

Thomas has never been a light sleeper, especially given the amount of work he does and the strain it has on his energy. But a gut feeling of alertness shook him awake, there were times when he could literally feel when something was wrong. He woke with a start, eyes blinking wildly and his hand immediately noticing the lack of weight— or rather the lack of you.

He relaxed when he spotted you sitting at the edge of one side of the bed, but his initial relief was short lived because he noticed that you were trembling. He sat up in a hurry, brows creasing in concern and his heart clenching painfully when he realized you were crying. Did you have a nightmare? No, you would have woken him up if you did, you always did.

You were too absorbed to notice the bed shifting, too distracted by the six new cuts streaking blood down your forearms and dropping in between your fingers. Everything was tingling, and you felt everything start to numb as you stared at the blade still cradled in your open palm. This was supposed to help, it was supposed to make it better, and for the first few drags of metal across your skin, it was. But now all you can manage to feel is heavy-weighted guilt, you felt pathetic. Where was your self-restraint? This was a private act, something to be done when you knew there was no possible way of being caught.

Your escalating downward-spiral of emotional turmoil was abruptly torn apart when you felt a heavy hand grab your shoulder. You reflexively toss the knife as far away from you as possible and whip around to face a mortified Thomas, you heard the clatter of the blade behind you and winced as his eyes shot over to it.

Everything seemed to slow down as Thomas’s wide brown eyes flickered from the knife to the damaged and bleeding flesh of your arms and back up to your eyes. Your immediate instinct was to scramble away, but his hand held you in place. Thomas made let out a pained whine, and then you saw him start to panic, breath picking up and eyes glazing. Thomas took both of your hands in his and turned each arm over, heart pounding as he only sees more of your blood, it's horrifying.

He starts putting two and two together and his heart almost shuts down, because he knows that you've done this to yourself. There were countless scars, new and old, ranging in size, depth, and severity. The realization that you've been hurting yourself for what looked to be years, and without him knowing was easily one of the hardest things to swallow. And what was worse, he understood.

He’s beginning to hyperventilate, shaking even more than you were. Thomas seemed to collect some sort of rationality because the next moment he was getting up and pickling you up with him. In your haze the only thing you could think to do was cling to him, bloodied arms flying around his neck, legs locking around his middle, and your face buried into his shoulder as he held you up by your thighs. He carried you to the bathroom as quickly as he could, setting you down on the porcelain sink and flicking on the light so he could better assess the damage.

Finding yourself in those next few moments you tried to calm him down, Thomas would be no help to you like this.

“T-Tommy, please calm down, I'm okay! I-I know this looks bad—” He gave you a wild look, not at all reassured or calmed by your words. Of course, you would say you were fine! But he knew you weren't, and you did too, couldn't you see that trying to hide it was crushing him?

You watched with wide eyes as Thomas hunched over the counter, arms caging you as he buried his face in his hands.

He didn't… think… think this was his fault, did he?

You reach out and cup both sides of his face, urging him to look at you. He doesn't comply right away, head stubbornly tilted down in shame. You realize that you aren't going to get through to him unless you clean yourself up, thinking the sight of your blood is what's too much for him to handle right now. So you swallow down all the words of comfort and self-blame and choose a different approach.

“Thomas, I have a first aid kit under my bed, if you go get it I can take care of this.”

Your voice is unsteady, and your throat is sore from crying, but you manage to get the words out. Thomas meets your eyes suddenly and doesn't need to be told twice before he’s rushing out of the room. He's back within seconds almost, holding out the small box of things you'd collected over the past months to tend to your habit. You mutter out a ‘thank you’ but you doubt it helps. Thomas stays close, watching you rinse your arms in the sink, and cringing at the blood that turned the water a murky, dark red.

You take out an antiseptic and dab each cut with it, whenever you flinch or hiss Thomas would jump. Once you believe you've properly disinfected your wounds you start to wrap gauze around one of your arms, but Thomas is quick to take over since this is something he knows how to do. You watch in a mesmerized daze as he wraps up your arms probably better than you could have, and you find yourself gazing lovingly at your gentle giant.

It's an awkward few minutes after you gather your makeshift medical supply stash back into the box and make sure you haven't left any blood anywhere obvious. You'd gotten so used to cleaning up blood that had you put in the effort, you probably would have excelled in a law enforcement department, perhaps even something forensic, cleaning up crime scenes and such. It’s a shower thought, but it distracts you from the silence. You instinctively go to pull down your sleeves but Thomas stops you, his thick hands running gently over the layers of bandages. You resist the urge to push his hands away, to shy away from his touch as you've done to so many others.

“I'm sorry.” You murmur and his eyes dart up to yours, giving you a disbelieving look, like the apology wasn't something he deserved. He grunted and shook his head frantically, hands cupping your face and drawing your guilty eyes back to him.

“I'm sorry you had to see me like that. And- and that I never told you, I-I couldn't tell you, I knew you'd be upset. And I didn't know what I was doing- all of this never should've happened! This has nothing to do with you or anything I just can't stop. Oh god, you must think I'm—”

You don't realize that you were starting to cry again, but Thomas is quick to hug you as close as possible. He doesn't want to hear all those bad things you’re saying about yourself, you don't deserve to feel bad about yourself, you're perfect to him. You relax in his arms after a while, and you just hold each other close.

Charlie must have heard you guys moving around and got up to investigate, but he was not expecting to see you two huddled up in the bathroom at three in the morning. He stands in the doorway, looking quite confused, and you can feel annoyance creeping inside of you at the sight of someone other than Thomas when you're feeling like this.

“Should I even ask?”

You frown and lean over to push the bathroom door shut.

“No.”

You look back up to Thomas who his fingering your bandages again, you understand he felt bad, but he was gonna mess them up at this rate.

“I'm okay, Tommy, really. You fixed me up, I'm fine now.” You gesture to your wrapped cuts with a reassuring smile, but your breath hitches when Thomas shakes his head and places one hand over your heart. It takes a moment to process, but you realize that it wasn't just your wounds he was worried about fixing.

“For what it's worth, you make me the happiest I've ever been since this whole cutting thing started.” Thomas looks up at you, listening intently to each word that falls from your lips.

“It's just… a habit now. Like smoking, or alcohol. You use it to feel better at first, but then you can't stop once you don't need it anymore.” And that's the truth about self-harm, it's not just an outlet, it's an addiction that your body can physically or mentally react to. You look curiously as Thomas rolled up his sleeves a bit more and takes one of your hands, he places it over his forearm and if you look closely enough, you could make out the clusters of thin, white scars littered all over his skin.

It dawns on you that he understands. How could he not? It makes so much sense, you know how he feels about his skin disease, and how much pain and discrimination he’s gotten for it. His motivation to hurt himself in the past is completely valid. But it still stings to think he’s hurt himself before, and for reasons almost painfully clear. How must he feel knowing you still cut?

You smile and lift his scarred arm to your lips to press a kiss to one of the worst ones. Thomas watches you curiously, face heating up some at the feeling of your soft lips against his fleshy arm.

“We really are the same.” You don't apologize for what he went through, or scold, or coddle him over it. And that's because he had the strength or restraint to overcome the urges to hurt himself, unlike you, and for that, you are proud of him.

Thomas sighs and rests his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he takes in the sweet scent of your hair. His nose may have deteriorated away, but his sinuses and sense of smell are still very much intact, and for that he is thankful. The huge man wearing human flesh to conceal his own has never felt so comfortable with someone in his life, he felt like he finally found someone that understands.

“Can I say something crazy?” You ask out of the blue, and he perks up at the return of your normal voice, void of the sadness he’d heard in it before. He nods with a grunt of approval, letting you say what you needed to say. He wished he had prepared himself for what it was.

“I think I might love you.”

He could've died right then and wouldn't have minded one bit, because there's nothing else you could have said that would make him so happy.

. . .

Disclaimer: I'm writing this off of my own personal experience with a self-harm addiction, I'm medicated and doing well now, but you’re never really the same afterwards. Just know that if any of you are going through that and need to talk, I'm always open to chat, don't be a stranger.

#thomas hewitt x reader #Thomas Hewitt #slasher x reader #leatherface x reader #thomas hewitt imagine #slashers #tcm #texas chainsaw massacre the beginning #slasher imagine #leatherface #self harm trigger warning #self harm tw

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douxreviews · 5 years

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The Punisher - ‘Roadhouse Blues’ Review

What an interesting bipolar premiere.

Half of it was a lovely, well-acted glimpse into Frank Castle as a calm, protective, somewhat normal and even romantic traveling man. The second half was a violent return to "an asshole who couldn't stay out of trouble."

I thought Jon Bernthal came off as incredibly attractive in the first half. He radiated adorable-ness and was so sympathetic, with his hard life fully reflected in his face ("rough road") as he was learning to take life one beer at a time. Yes, they gave us the cliché pick-up where Frank rescued Beth the beautiful bartender from the asshole who was hitting on her, but I liked it. Frank even chose not to hit on Beth himself because she'd just been hassled. It was Beth who came on to Frank. Lovely performances by Jon Bernthal and Alexa Davalos.

It was so easy to see Frank having a future with Beth. She was just lovely. A woman who seemed to be concealing her real self behind her long brown hair, Beth taught music and tended bar to make ends meet while raising her hockey-loving little boy Rex alone – remember Frank teaching his daughter to play the guitar in season one? The romantic interlude was fragmented, pretty bits of sex, nothing uncomfortably prolonged. The best part of it was Beth asking Frank about his scars. Frank even told Beth about losing his family without getting into the painful details, suggesting that he really was healed enough to start moving on and living his life. It was so nice that two hours out of town, Frank decided to turn around and come back for Beth.

Which is where the damsel in distress came back in. We never did learn her name, although I'm guessing we will. Frank bumped into her twice before he realized that she was in trouble when the bad guys (or actually, mostly bad women) followed her into the ladies room. I don't have a lot of patience for extended fight scenes but this one, the bathroom followed by the barroom, was well choreographed and far from boring. I was most struck (pun intended) by Frank taking his opponents' head in his hand and slamming them into – well, pretty much everything. Frank was simply incapable of walking away when he saw a young woman in danger. He had to intervene. Guess he's a dog off his leash now.

The episode began in media res with a bloody Frank and the damsel in his van running away from the bad guys, so I spent most of the episode thinking that Beth had died. I was glad that they didn't fridge her; Frank did get her to the emergency room. It's interesting that we were also misdirected with the damsel, thinking that she had picked the lock to Frank's motel room and that he was about to catch her in it. I also liked that the third time the damsel had the opportunity, she was smart enough not to run away from Frank.

(Not that running away from Frank Castle is a bad thing. If I weren't in trouble, I'd run to the other side of the country to get away from Frank. But if I were in trouble, I'd glue myself to his side.)

There was set-up for not one but two villains. The first was the Russian with all the thugs who was after the damsel for some unexplained photographs, which he seems to have gotten from her laptop. We didn't get much about him except that he was giving orders to the local cops, and he had everyone else she was working with killed, which is why the damsel was in distress in the first place.

And of course, there was Billy Russo, still in a coma in the hospital. That was a fascinating, hideous mask he was wearing, but who would put something like that on his face? Was it Madani, who now seems to have a problem with alcohol? Billy woke from his coma after Madani left his room, unless he had been awake already. I liked that shot of his eyes opening behind that mask. I wonder how many episodes until we see his naked face?

Bits:

— How many people died in that bar? I was sorry to see Ringo the bouncer go. That's a lot of death for the cops to cover up.

— The Russian picked up Frank's wedding ring engraved with "To Maria from Frank."

— The damsel called her contact, the guy tied to the chair, from a pay phone that had a skull decal on it.

— I don't usually rave about the music in an episode, but it was terrific, and not just because practically every lyric could have been about Frank Castle. The artist was singer/songwriter Shooter Jennings. His name was on the cheap marquee outside of Lola's Roadhouse.

— Janis Joplin's classic "Me and Bobby McGee" was playing during the barfight. Another good musical choice.

Quotes:

Beth: "You got the 'man of mystery' thing down, I'll give you that."

Female thug: (to Frank) "Dumbass. You're so far over your head you can't even see the light."

Frank: "There's more of them out there." Damsel in distress: "And what? You're just some Good Samaritan who couldn't stand by?" Frank: "I'm just an asshole who couldn't stay out of trouble, that's all."

Damsel in distress: "Will there be more of them?" Frank: "I hope so." That's too bad. I was halfway hoping that maybe Frank was ready for a little peace in his life, even if it would make for a boring second season.

This premiere was terrific, and I can't wait to see the rest of the season. Four out of four skull decals,

Billie Doux loves good television and spends way too much time writing about it.

#The Punisher #Frank Castle #Billy Russo #Dinah Madani #Marvel #Marvel Cinematic Universe #MCU #The Punisher Reviews #Doux Reviews #TV Reviews

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honeywithblueberries · 6 years

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Halloween

This story is dedicated to Cimar of Turalis WildeHopps. Happy Halloween!! ………… “Why are we here?”

The red todd driving the car exchanged a smile with his wife at the whiny question. His oldest son was certainly on the cusp of being a teenager. Something that happened way too quick, in his opinion.

“We’re here,” he explained looking into the rearview mirror at the twelve year old slumped in the back seat, “because I volunteered to help out the Bunnyburrow Sherif’s Department with their Halloween Carnival.”

“But why did we have to come with you?” came the grumbled reply. “This could be that last Halloween I have to go trick or treating and instead of hitting all the good houses, I’m stuck in the boonies!”

“Gregory.”

The vixen in the passenger seat shot a warning look to her son. Though her calm voice never rose, there was enough of a threat in it to have her daughter, Skye, and youngest son, Nick, focus in on her.

“You’re here because we spend every holiday together.” Vivian looked from Greg, who humphed and stared out the window, to Skye, who pulled off her head phones to hear her better. “And because you can get candy anytime. But THESE times will be over before you know it. So watch your attitude, young todd.”

“I’m happy to be here,” chimed in the little kit sitting between his big brother and sister. “Look at all the leaves, Daddy! They’re all yellowy and red!”

Nick had been disappointed at first when he realized he wouldn’t be going trick or treating, having changed into his Zorro costume as soon as he got home from school. But once they loaded up the car and started driving, he had spent the better part of the car ride bouncing in place. His little face moved from one window to the other, trying to get the best view of the big, colorful world rushing by just outside the car. And Matthew had a blast pointing out the streams and meadows yards away from the highway.

“I see ‘em, buddy!” Matthew grinned to himself, a pleased growl rumbling lowly when Vivian reached over to give his knee a squeeze. They smiled to each other again before they both noticed their exit.

“Bunnyburrow!” cried Nick. “Bunnyburrow, Dad! Right there!”

He pushed himself up as much as the seatbelt would allow, his efforts jostling his big sister. Skye grunted in discomfort and nudged him back into his seat.

“We see it baby!” laughed his mother. “Careful or Skye’s going to bite you.”

Big green eyes looked over to his sister, who grinned down at him, showing off every sharp fang. She gave him a playful snap of her jaws, laughing and ruffling the fur on his head when gasped in fear. Pulling him to her side, the vixen looked over at her parents.

“So why did you have to drag me along?” she asked as her father slowed the car.

“You’re here because next year, you’ll be in college,” he answered, pulling into the lot designated for carnival staff. “Which means I’m running out of time to embarrass you whenever I want.” A beaver directed them to a spot after nodding at the pass he displayed on the windshield. “Gotta start making them count now.”

He grinned as his daughter reached over to flick his ear.

“Alright troops!” Vivian unbuckled and turned to look over her seat at the three of them. “Here’s the deal. Skye you’re in charge of your brothers. Greg, do NOT wander off without letting your sister know where your going. And Nick, baby, you stay with your sister NO MATTER WHAT. If I have to collar and leash you, I will.”

Matthew pulled out his wallet and took out three bills. “If you spend this all in one place, you don’t get anymore.”

“Wow,” came Greg’s bland reply. “Five bucks. Time to go crazy.”

“It could be zero bucks,” countered his father sweetly with a smile. His eyes moved to Nick, who was beaming at his money and bouncing again. “And make sure he doesn’t spend it all on sugar. We’re going to be eating actual food and I don’t want him to ruin his appetite.”

“Why does Skye get a twenty?”

“No fair!”

“Shut up, you little insects!” she growled at her brothers. “I get more because I’m older.”

“And she, unlike you, re-painted the kitchen and watched your brother.” Their mother climbed out of the car and stretched, not noticing their father creeping up next to her. She gave a yelp of shock, before laughing when he pulled her into his arms.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m certainly ready for a treat, Mrs. Wilde,” he growled into her ear.

“Mmmm, tempting….” she muttered back before turning in his arms and wrapping her own around his neck, “but not in front of the kits, Officer Wilde.”

“Please, not in front of us….” groaned Skye, her face twisted in disgust.

“Seriously,” agreed Greg.

“There’s kits here, for fucks sake,” chimed in Nick.

Both Vivian and Matthew looked over at their youngest in shock as his siblings snorted into their paws.

“Where did you learn that word!” demanded Matthew, his eyes narrowed on his son.

“From you.” Nick said. Vivian pulled away from her husband and crossed her arms as she glared at him. The todd blinked at his kit before looking to his wife with guilt.

“Anything else you want to teach our eight year old, Matt?”

“He also says shit a lot,” Nick said cheerfully.

Greg and Skye laughed as Vivian scowled.

“Wow!” Matthew exclaimed looking down at his watch. “Look at the time! I really need to check in! Meet up at the information booth and we’ll talk dinner? Love ya, see ya! BYE!”

Vivian shook her head at her husband’s retreating form before turning to her kits.

“Alright! I have to go check in, too. I’m working the Bobbing For Apples booth first, than the Darts game. So if you need me, come find me. And you-“ she kneeled down and took Nick’s paws. “Zorro doesn’t use bad words, so Nicholas Wilde shouldn’t either. Capiche?”

“Yes, Mama,” the kit confirmed hanging his head in shame, with his ears flattened.

“Ok,” she gave him a kiss and ruffled his fur before pulling the hat hanging down his back over his ears. Straightening up, she kissed Skye and Greg. “You guys have fun, be safe, and we’ll meet up at seven.”

With grunts of agreement, Greg and Skye turned to leave, the latter reaching down to clasp Nick’s paw. His mother’s words faded as they walked towards the brightly lit entrance of the Bunnyburrow Halloween Carnival.

And Nick couldn’t remember the last time he was this excited. ………..

Judy couldn’t remember the last time she was this excited.

Halloween was her all time, absolute, no questions asked favorite holiday EVER! It was the one time of year she could wear her police costume and not have everyone give her funny looks for it. And it was the only time she was encouraged to dream big and go for more than what was expected.

Not that she followed everyone else’s advice.

She had been a cop for the past four Halloweens and saw no reason to be anything else this year. Though that was before her favorite big brother announced he was going to be home from college for the holiday. With a surprise that was just for her!

“What is it?” she asked curiously as she opened the box and pulled out the bolero hat.

“This,” explained her brother Jack, “is a capitán’s outfit!”

“What’s that mean?” she asked blinking up at him.

“It means captain. This is what the leader of the army wore a long time ago!” He smiled as her eyes went wide. “And this capitán was the greatest of all!”

Her mouth fell open at, that making the older buck smile wider and nod knowingly. He lowered himself to balls of his feet and beaconed her closer, looking around to make sure no-one was eaves-dropping on them.

“They say she even tamed the Mighty Zorro!” He grinned at her confused look. “Fox.” His little sister gasped in shock. “With his help, she cleaned up Zootopia and made it a better place for all mammals. And, since you two have the same goal, I thought you would like to give the cop costume a break this year.”

Jack pulled the hat from her paws and fit it over her ears. Looking up to the brim of it, her eyes got the sweet, dreamy look he loved so much. Focusing back onto him, she leaped into his arms for a tight hug.

“Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“You’re welcome, Bun-bun.” Kissing her nose, he turned her and put the rest of the costume in her paws. “Now go change. We’re leaving in twenty minutes for the carnival.”

With another yell of delight, she bounced out of the living room towards the tunnels leading to kits’ rooms.

“Why do you encourage it, Jack?” He turned to the disapproving voice of his sister. “Just let her be a cop again so she gets it out of her system and realizes her place is here. On the farm, with her family.”

“Wow, Maple, nice costume.” Jack gave a smile and nod as he looked her over. Knowing the exchange wasn’t going to end in her favor, she crossed her arms and frowned at him.

“I’m not in a costume.”

“Don’t be too sure about that. You definitely look like a frigid bitch to me.”

With a smirk, he strolled away to where his other brothers and sisters were getting ready. The older ones were going to be at Bunnyburrow High for the Halloween dance, while the rest were going to be divided between trick or treating and going to the festival. Jack had elected to take Judy and her litter, with Judy’s friend Gideon tagging along.

“What are you going as, Jack?” Called out his litter mate, Ben.

“Oh, I’m going as a broke college student who just spent his food money on a really cool costume for his little sister.” The buck struck a pose. “Clever, huh?”

His brother laughed before popping his fake teeth in. “Good for you,” he said in a poor Pawsylvanian accent, “I only suck da blood from pretty, pretty does! LIKE YOU!”

Ben scooped up one of their little sisters, who squealed with delight as her big brother tickled and covered her with kisses. Jack laughed and shook his head before looking towards the hallway.

“I’m ready!” shouted Judy as she came barreling out, dressed the capitán’s uniform. Maple shook her head as she ran by and grasped her brother’s paw. “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!”

The group joined her excitement as they started walking to the door. “Guys, I don’t think Judy’s ready!”

“I am too!” she protested, looking up at Jack. “Where’s your costume?”

“This is my costume,” he said, herding his group outside. “I’m Joe.”

“Joe who?” she asked in confusion.

“Joe Mama!” The poor joke earned embarrassed laughs from his older siblings though some of the younger ones, including Judy, giggled.

“Jack, you’re silly.”

“I thought I was Joe?” The response earned him a nudge from her elbow.

“Hey, Jack?” she asked, a paw going to the plastic sword on her hip.

“Sí, Capitán Hopps?”

“Do you think I’ll see Zorro tonight?” She looked up at her brother who shrugged and took the paw of Judy’s litter sister, Silene.

“You never know,” he said with a wink. “Where there’s trouble, Zorro is bound to be close by.”

Look out, Zorro! she thought with a grin. …………..

“Skyyyyeeee……”

Her ears twitched but she didn’t acknowledge her brother’s whine.

“Skye, I wanna go play with my sword!” He gave his trapped paw a tug, groaning when she didn’t let him go. “Skye, come on! I wanna play!”

He gave her a sad look before turning to the group of kits laughing and running around together. Mostly bunnies, with a few lambs, pigs, and goats, they all looked like they were having a great time. And Nick wanted to join them. But Skye refused to let go of his paw, insisting on dragging him everywhere.

“Skye!” he protested, his other paw reaching up to pry at her fingers.

Giving up, he huffed and frowned. Quite suddenly, an idea formed in his head. One that was very, VERY naughty, but would guarantee his freedom. Sneaking another look at his sister, who was admiring some homemade jewelry, he grinned before drawing in a breath.

“KIT-NAPPER!”

His shout startled everyone into stoping and caused Skye to jump in surprise before looking down at him. And, as he had hoped, she loosened the grip on his paw, allowing him to take off in a flash.

“NICK!” he heard her shout in panic as he vanished into the crowd.

But, laughing at his new found freedom, the little fox ran and didn’t look back. ……..

The carnival wasn’t nearly as fun as Judy thought it would be.

Gideon had shown up, but he was dressed as SuperMammal instead of Zorro. Then he goes and spends all his time with her brother Quentin. And Silene and Brook were a heartbeat away from being pushed into the mud if they didn’t shut up about their stupid crowns. Her other litter mate, Sarah, was demanding all of Jack’s attention, not letting their brother set her down for second.

Leaving the little doe on her own, bored senseless.

Taking advantage of being stopped in front of a game booth, her big purple eyes looked around without interest…… until they caught sight of a little figure, clad in black with a long, fluffy red tail and bolero hat.

She gasped as she watched the masked fox kit duck behind a stall, panting as though he had been running. He peeked out as though to make sure he wasn’t being followed, before a smile curled his muzzle and he was off again at a slower pace.

“Zorro……” Judy whispered. Looking over at her distracted brother and siblings, she carefully snuck away. …….

I think I lost her, Nick thought with a grin, happy to be enjoying the carnival on his own terms.

Shouts of laughter drew his attention, making him run to find the source. Ducking through legs and stalls, he skidded to a halt in front of the group of kits playing, more than ready to join.

“Hi!” he greeted, a big smile curving his face and his paw reached up to pull his hat from his head.

Everyone stopped and looked at him, the eyes of some going wide with fear. Many stepped back. A few even ducked behind their friends to hide, only daring to peek out at the newcomer. The sudden pause in activity had the young todd’s smile faltering. Gulping, he tried again.

“Can I play?” he asked, stepping forward.

A brown colored buck frowned and shook his head. “No!” he said forcefully, stepping away from the group towards Nick. “No foxes allowed! Go away!”

“Yeah!” “YEAH!” “That’s right!” “Go away!” “No foxes!”

Shocked by their response, Nick opened his mouth to speak, only to have the brown buck step forward threateningly. And that was enough to have Nick darting back the way he came. Rounding the corner of a booth, he pressed his back to the canvas and fought the sting of tears. From the clearing, he could hear the other children praise the buck for driving him away.

“Thanks George!” “Good job!” “George, you’re so brave!”

He peeked around the corner and sadly watched as they started their game back up. Sniffling, he dragged the back of his paw over his eyes, his mask catching most of his tears. And deciding it would be best to find Skye and Greg, he pushed off to be on his way.

Only to find himself nose to nose with a sword. His paws flew up in surrender as his eyes went to the little grey bunny holding it, a smug look on her little face.

“Ha!” she exclaimed with her free paw on her hip. “You thought you could outsmart me? The great Capitán Hopps?”

Nick kept his paws up and just stared at her in shock. He wasn’t sure what surprised him more, the sword or the expectant look on her face.

“I’ve got you now, Zorro!” her grin and eyes grew wider as she waited for him to respond. Both deflated some when she leaned over to him and whispered, “This is the part where you pull out your sword.”

His eyes narrowed in confusion for a moment, not understanding until she looked at the toy sword on his hip then back up to him. One paw fumbled to draw it out, eyes not looking away from the costumed bunny. She gave him a happy grin when he succeeded, crossing the plastic blade with hers.

“You’ve not won yet, Capitán!” he said finally. “Where there is injustice, there will always be… Zorro!”

She gave a laugh and playful yell as they began to sword fight.

“It’s you who’s bad guy!” the little bunny argued as they fought, her smile only growing wider.

“Not uh!” countered Nick. “Zorro’s the good guy! Everybody knows that!”

Her head tilted in confusion as they continued their fight, moving further away from his hiding spot.

“So who is the bad guy?” she asked, pausing.

The question had him stopping to think it over. “I don’t know. I thought it was you.”

With a shake of her head, she put a paw to her chin and furrowed her brow to think. And while she did, Nick decided to edge a bit closer, curious about the little bunny in front of him. Watching her ponder their foes, the todd felt himself smile. An odd feeling, as just a moment ago, he was in tears. But she seemed nice and had wanted to play.

And she knew what his costume was!

So when she lifted her eyes back up to his, and his heart slammed into his chest, he decided he liked her.

“The bad guys are everyone who’s mean,” she decided. “So it’s up to us to get rid of bullies and look out for the little guys.”

“Us?” Nick asked, his voice hopeful and ears perked. Her smile had his tail wagging in delight as she gave a firm nod.

“Yup. We’re a team now.” She reached out her paw and grasped his, tugging him further into the carnival. And Nick was more than willing to go with her.

“I’m Nick, by the way.”

Still holding his paw, she grinned up at him. “I’m Judy. But for now, you can call me Capitán Hopps and you’re Zorro.”

Sighing to himself, his heart fluttering, the little fox allowed the little bunny to drag him around. And he had no problem with that. ………..

“Nick!”

Skye was looking around frantically, checking under booths and tables, in trash cans and recycle bins, searching every last nook and cranny she stumbled. And there was still no sign of her baby brother.

“Nick!” Near tears, she turned in a circle as though hoping she would see him running towards her. But all she saw was Greg rushing up in the same panicked state she was in.

“Nothing!” he said, answering her silent question. “And no-one remembers seeing a little Zorro running around.”

“Greg! It’s almost six thirty and it’s dark out! Something could have happened to him! He could be in a ditch somewhere, hurt and bleeding. Or someone could have him!”

“Ok, calm down, drama queen!” Greg patted her arm soothingly. “It’s the sticks. No-one is going to hurt him out here. It isn’t like Zootopia, where no-one cares. These bumpkins actually look out for kits.”

“Fox kits though?” challenged Skye, as tears of worry fell. “Some how I doubt they’ll be concerned if they see a fox get kit-napped. Let’s head towards the info booth. If we don’t find him…. we’ll let Dad know.”

Greg winced at that. If they told Vivian and Matthew they lost their little brother, they would kill them both. Skye more gruesomely than himself, but still.

“Nick!” “Nick?”

“Judy?!” A panicked voice echoed back to them, causing both foxes to exchange glances. “Judy, Bun-Bun, where are you, sweetheart! JUDY!”

Skye turned to see a rabbit buck in the same position she was in not too long ago: On his paws and knees, checking under booths and tables. She watched as he back out and straightened up.

“Judy?” He pushed himself up and ran to a booth. “Hey, Mr. Oats, have you seen Judy? I can’t find her anywhere and I’m really freaking out here!”

The elderly goat brought a trembling hoof to his chin. “Now, then,” he began in an old, slow, raspy country drawl that had the buck’s foot thumping impatiently, “let’s see….. Which one is Trudy? Is she the little black and white one? Or is that Brandy? Oh, brandy! Did I ever tell you about the time I won first place in the Trio-Burrow County Fair for my homemade brandy-“

“Yes, yes, you did Mr. Oats, and after I find my sister, I’ll be back to hear it again!” And with that, the rabbit pushed off, leaving the old goat to mutter to himself, not realizing the rabbit had left. “Judy! Judy!”

“Excuse me!” Greg looked over at his sister in surprise, only to find her half way to the buck.

Brow furrowed in worry, he turned big blue eyes to her, his expression just like her own.

“We’re looking for our little brother, too.” she explained. “Maybe we can help each other? You seem to know this place better than we do.”

“Yeah, sure!” he nodded and shook her paw as they began to walk fast paced together. “I’m Jack. What does he look like?”

“I’m Skye and that’s Greg. His name is Nick and he’s a red fox with green eyes and dark tipped ears. He has cream fur under his muzzle and he’s dressed like Zorro.”

Both foxes kept walking, not realizing they had lost Jack. When she didn’t receive a response, they stopped to look over at him.

“What?” asked Greg.

“Your brother’s dressed like Zorro?” he asked, looking at Skye.

She nodded and frowned. “Is there a problem with that?” Her arms crossed, not liking what she thought he was insinuating. Only to be confused when he shook his head and smiled.

“Judy’s dressed up like the capitán.” Jack’s smile grew, fear and tension leaving his body as he nodded at the pair. “I know where they are.”

Greg and Skye could barely keep up with him. ……..

Nick stood just off to the side of a booth. He glanced over at Judy, who mirrored his pose. His eyes scanned the area carefully, watching everyone laugh and enjoy the sights and attractions of the carnival. But he was waiting for someone in particular. A certain brown furred someone.

When she had pulled him away, Judy could help but ask a question.

“Why were you crying?”

Embarrassment flooded him at the thought of her noticing, causing him to duck his head.

“I wasn’t crying,” he mumbled. But the bunny wasn’t convinced.

“It’s okay, Nick.”she whispered, giving his paw a squeeze. “I’m not going to think less of you.”

He looked up at her, surprised she had used his name after insisting on calling him Zorro. “The other kits back there…..” Shaking his head, he sighed and kept walking. “They weren’t very nice.”

The fox was suddenly jerked to a stop, looking over at her in surprise. “Who was mean to you?” she asked with scowl.

His eyes went wide at her expression. “I think everyone said his name was George…..”

“Brown furred?” Nick nodded. “Rabbit?” Another nod. “Wanna get back at him?” One more excited nod as Judy grinned.

And the plan was simple. Judy had some allowance saved up and Nick still had his five dollars. The Hayworth family grew blackberries and sold pies made from them, two for seven bucks. Having spent most of her life being taunted by the buck in question, Judy knew where he and his posse would be. Since it was dark, and Nick’s eyes were better than hers, he would look for him, while she kept an ear out.

Spotting and hearing their target, the pair stood waiting.

“Why did you have to wear such a dumb costume?” Came the domineering voice of George. Both kits peeked out of their hiding spots to see him strutting ahead of the group, sneering at dark wooled lamb dressed as an angel.

“I thought I looked sweet…..”the lamb said in a sad voice. “My mama and daddy said I looked good.”

“Well your mama and daddy ain’t that bright,” he said rudely.

Nick and Judy exchanged outraged looks and nodded.

“NOW!”

As one, the left their spots and slammed their pies into the buck’s face, knocking him back onto his tail. Nick grinned down at him, watching the pie tins fall away. Crust and filling dropped onto his lap, the solider costume he wore destroyed by the dessert. Judy stood over him, paws on her hips and a triumphant grin on her face. The others just watched in shock at what happened.

“And that’s what happens to mean mammals who are meanies to others!” she declared. “What do you have to say for yourself now, George?”

Two brown paws reached up to drag pie from his eyes. And the anger burning in them was unmistakable. “Get them!” He screamed and pointed.

Nick and Judy paused and looked at the other kits, who scowled at the pair. They exchanged worried glances before turning tail and running, George’s group hot on their tails. ………..

“Judy was hoping to run into Zorro!” Jack explained as he lead them to the clearing. “If he had a sword, she would have asked him to play with her! Which means she and Nick should be over-“

Both kits in question darted by the trio looking for them.

“There,” completed Greg looking after them in amazement.

A series of shouts had them looking to the group of costumed children angrily chasing after them.

“You know,” said Skye, relieved to know her brother was okay, “we’re all going to look back at this day and laugh.”

“Someday soon?” asked Jack. Skye shook her head.

“Nope…..” ……….

It shouldn’t have been fun. They had an army of angry kits after them, one of which was covered in pie.

But that didn’t stop either of them from laughing as they evaded their pursuers. Grinning at his new friend, she grinned back before grabbing his paw and dragging them between two stalls. They ducked under the canvas wall, before becoming still. Judy pressed a finger to her lips, Nick nodding in agreement, as her ears perked up slightly, listening to the group pause.

“Where did they go?” demanded George.

“They vanished!” Declared another.

“Well, find them! I’m going to show that little freak and her stupid fox friend to think twice before messing with me!”

The pair hiding bit their lips to keep from laughing as the group moved further away. Once they had gone, they cautiously crept out from the stall and laughed.

“That was awesome!” Nick said once he controlled himself.

“Yeah!” agreed Judy. She looked over at him and blushed. “We- we make a great team.”

She was still smiling as he met her eyes, feeling his belly flip when she blushed again and looked to her feet.

“That’s because we’re partners,” he explained. Holding out his paw, the todd waited patiently for her to accept it. He most certainly was not expecting her bounce forward and kiss his cheek.

Mouth falling open, he stared at her in shock. Judy’s paws went to stroke her ears shyly, still smiling at the ground.

“Thanks, Zorro.” she whispered.

“Anytime, Capitán.” A smile spread over his face as they stood staring at each other, oblivious to the carnival around them.

“There they are!”

The voice broke them from their spell, causing them to look around in shock.

They were very much surrounded!

George, still covered in pie with, stepped forward and pushed his sleeves up.

“Why are you such a freak, Hopps?”

“Hey!” Nick cried, moving to stand in front of her protectively. “Don’t call her that!”

“Shut up, ya dumb fox!”

“And don’t call him that!” Judy moved around her friend and glared at their nemesis. “Why are you always such a big jerk, George? He just wanted to play! Why do have to be so rotten? Why, you’re nothing but a big, brown, stupid, dumb bunny!”

“Oh, you asked for it, Hopps!” A brown fist peeled back…… only to be stop by a large brown paw. The little buck looked up in confusion as his friends scattered and ran away.

“Is there a problem here?” Asked Matthew, his green eyes moving from the pie encrusted bunny to the his son, who was trying to shield Judy.

“N-no, sir….” George muttered, looking terrified.

The uniformed todd rolled his eyes and reached into his pocket. A packet of wet-wipes were pulled out and passed to him. “Here. Clean up, then find your folks. I’m sure they’re worried sick about you.”

“Th-thank you, sir!” And without another word, he took off, wet-wipes clutched in his paw.

Shaking his head after him, Matthew turned back to Nick and Judy.

“And you, young todd, seem to be missing something.” The fox fit gulped as he looked up at his father only to have his ears perk at the sound of a familiar voice.

“Oh, Nick!” Skye and Greg came dashing into view, followed closely by a tall buck with stripes on his face.

“Judith Lavern Hopps!” the rabbit buck scolded, before scooping her into his arms. “Don’t you ever run away from me like that again, you hear me?”

“Sorry, Jackie,” she muttered.

“And I see you three had an interesting night.” The buck and doe looked over to the fox officer. He stood glaring at the vixen with Nick in his arms. Turning to her, Matthew shook his head again. “Didn’t your mother tell you to stay with Skye, NO MATTER WHAT?”

“Yes, daddy,” the kit muttered, looking down.

“Look at me, young todd.” Obeying, Nick raised his head. “I’m very disappointed in you. Both of you.” He looked over at his daughter, who hung her head in shame. “Now, I’m already in trouble with your mother, so I’m willing to put this whole mess behind us. For now. Nick, you’re going to make sure the bathroom is sparkling everyday for the next week. And, Skye, you got the kitchen.”

Sighing, he set his kit down, keeping a grip on his paw. “Now let’s go eat.”

Greg grinned and headed for the info booth, where Vivian would be waiting, his father moving to follow. But Nick and Skye stayed where they were. Skye looked over at Jack, who smiled at her as he set his little sister down.

“Thanks for helping us Jack,” she said with a smile back.

“Thanks for helping me.” he said. “It was nice meeting you. Maybe, next time we can actually talk. Not just run around, looking for kits.”

“I’d like that.” came her enthusiastic reply.

Matthew looked from his daughter to the buck eyeing her, protective indignation rising up. “Let’s go, sweetheart. Mom’s waiting.”

She looked over to him and blushed. Jack was given another wave before she followed after Greg. Starting to walk again, he was brought to a halt by Nick. The little kit tugged his paw free from his father and walked over to Judy. She watched as he pushed his hat from his head and untied his mask. He smiled at her before holding it out, her eyes wide as she took it in her paws. But he didn’t release it, much to her confusion.

Without warning, he pulled it forward, bring her with it and pressed a sweet, chaste kiss on her lips.

Pulling back, he smiled and let it go, running back to his father and grabbing his paw. Dragging his dad, the foxes vanished into the crowd, leaving two very stunned bunnies

“Yup,” said Jack, breaking the silence. “That sounds about right. Tell you what.” Judy looked up at him, still holding the mask, her cheeks and ears bright red. “Let’s never tell Mom and Dad about tonight. Agreed?”

Smiling, she nodded. “Agreed.”

Shaking his own head, Jack reached down to take her paw, guiding her back to their own family’s meeting spot. …….

The car ride back to Zootopia was quiet. Skye and Greg hadn’t witnessed the kiss and Vivian was none the wiser about the events of the carnival. Something the rest of her family hoped would not change. Greg had surrendered the window seat to Nick, he and Skye falling asleep leaning on each other.

With Vivian asleep in the passenger seat, that left just him and Matthew to enjoy the ride in darkened silence.

“That was bold, Nicky.”

He looked from the window to his father.

“Females like bold.” The older todd smiled over at Vivian. “It’s what helped make your mother fall in love with me.”

“Do you think I’ll see her again, Dad?” he asked quietly.

Matthew smiled at that and nodded. “Yes, I do, son. Yes, I do.” …………..

TEN YEARS LATER

“A co-ed dorm, Nicky?” Vivian rolled her eyes as a pair of females looked over at her son and giggled. “Really?”

“It was my only option, Mom,” Nick explained with a box in his arms. Pushing the door to his room open he grinned at his father counting the boxes already brought up. “And this is the best dorm on campus. It’s not going to be all partying. My last dorm was awful, anyway!”

The older todd nodded. “It really was, Vivi. Besides, we’re just here to help him switch. Not judge, remember.”

“I know, I know!” She walked over to her son and wrapped her arms around him. “ And I know you’re going to party tonight.”

“It is Halloween.” confirmed Nick with a grin, earning a poke from his mother.

“Just be safe, be smart, and-” She looked over to her husband, whose face lit up and paw vanished into his pocket. He tossed the contents to his wife, who caught and passed it to Nick. “Use protection.”

“Mom!” his ears burning as they flattened against his head.

“A word I love hearing and I’m not ready to hear Grandma yet.” She patted his cheek and moved to the door.

Matthew followed and gave him a hug. “Have fun. We’ll see you this Sunday for dinner.”

“Bye, baby.”

“Bye, guys.” Once he was alone, he looked at the condoms in his paws. “Like I’m going to need these.”

They were tossed on the bed before he turned to pull out his costume for the night.

“Is it weird I’m going as Maui?” Smiling as he laid it out, a light knock at the door distracted him.

Though not as much as the costumed bunny on the other end. Taking in her cream colored skirt and orange top, with a blue shell necklace around her neck, there was something achingly familiar about her. She glanced up at him with big purple eyes and grinned. Pulling a flyer from the stack in her paws, she held it out.

“Hi! I’m Judy Hopps, you’re new neighbor!”

And just like that, Nick was eight years old again, running away from a bully covered in blackberry pie. With the bunny in front of him.

“I’m Nick, by the way.” he said softly, eyes moving across her face to take in every inch of it.

Her expression morphed from friendly stranger to stunned recognition.

“No, your not.” she whispered with a shake of her head. He frowned only to have her throw her arms around his neck and press her lips to his. His confusion lasted only a moment, before his paws landed on her body, pulling her closer. When their kiss ended, she pulled back to look him in the eyes. “You’re my Zorro.”

“Actually, tonight I’m Maui.”

Laughing, she nodded. “I can live with that. And after tonight?”

“Would you be ok with me just being Nick?”

“Bet your ass I will be.” He grinned at her response and kissed her again, before pulling her into the room and slamming the door shut. ………

A/N: Nick and Judy’s costumes are a shout out to Cimar’s pic, The Masked Fox. Put another chapter out, Cimar!! I can’t wait much longer :)!

#zootopia #nickwilde #judyhopps #jack savage #savageskye #wildehopps #au #alternate universe #halloween #blackberry pie #revenge #soulmates

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scottielambchop · 5 years

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Tite Five Vol. 1

Here's the deal: Unemployment really sucks.

But it's important to keep "flexing my writing muscle." So, I decided to take the blog format I had with my old company and take it here. Which is rad because I can now write all the f-swears I want. But even better, I can rename this stupid fucking thing. So without further ado, I present to you my Tite Five.

Arby’s Subscription Box

Well, the more things change, the more they stay the same. I may not be writing blogs for an ad agency anymore, but that doesn't fuckin' mean I won't talk about fast food.

For those who don’t know me (and now that I’m writing on my own blog, I don’t know why the fuck you wouldn’t), I have sort of backed myself into a corner with Arby's. It all started innocently enough. I wrote a Facebook post asking if anyone wanted to go on a romantic date to Arby’s. Seemed like a funny-enough thing to say. But then I doubled down and asked the same question again a few weeks later. Then again. And again. Soon enough, I became the “Arby’s guy.” Which, to be honest, isn’t the worst thing to be known for. Especially since Arby’s is pretty good and their Pizza Slider is one of the most underrated QSR food items on the market.

Alright, now that I got that little nugget of useless bullshit out of the way, let’s get to this subscription box. For the past couple of years, Arby’s has been fucking killing it in the advertising game. Their hilarious Ving Rhames-voiced copy spots and subsequent transition to more visual stuff with H. Jon Benjamin, their delightfully nerdy paper-craft social posts, and now, their subscription box. That’s right, you fuckin’ heard (or read) me correctly, Arby’s now has a subscription box.

In early January, Arby’s tweeted out they would be sending a subscription box called Arby's of the Month. All you had to do was sign up for $25, and you would get six mystery boxes of seasonal gear from everyone’s favorite roast beef provider. Now, I’m sure you’re wondering, “Who the hell would want that?” Well, let me tell you, a lot of people the hell would want that. It sold out in less than an hour.

Minneapolis' Fallon (my dream agency) has done amazing work with Arby's. They've taken your grandparents’ favorite fast food joint and turned it into something for everyone. By simply getting weird with everything they do, the younger generations have latched on. Honestly, who the fuck would think about sending a subscription box full of roast beef swag, and how the fuck did it work so well? The answer is Fallon.

P.S. If anyone from Fallon is reading this, my portfolio is scottielantgen.com. Hire me, please.

Re-Watching South Park

One of the most beautiful things about unemployment in the digital age is the ability to hunt for jobs across the country while sitting on your couch and streaming a seemingly endless supply of shows. And that’s exactly what the fuck I’ve been doing with South Park.

Now before I begin, I just need to say that, yes, the show’s liberal use of the “f-word,” “r-word,” and countless racial stereotypes DO NOT hold up well to today’s standards. And honestly, I’m not going to defend it. It’s not my place.

Problematic dialogue aside, what I love about rewatching South Park from almost the very beginning (just skip the first three seasons. You're not missing much) is how it’s a perfect current event/pop culture time capsule. I seriously forgot about Elián González, Terri Schiavo, how the popularity of Paris Hilton made everyone fucking terrible for a while, and just the Passion of the Christ in general. But thanks to South Park, those headlines came rushing back in vivid detail.

South Park still holds up as some of the best satire ever created. It’s quick, funny, and often offensive. And I’m pretty sure that’s what Trey Parker and Matt Stone wanted it to be.

Also, Butters and Randy Marsh are two of my favorite fictional characters.

Skittles Commercial: The Broadway Musical

The “Big Game” (who has the money, amirite?) is tomorrow, and it’s like a goddamn advertising cotillion. It’s the day where the entire country gathers around a TV to eat a variety of sauced meats, drink one of three different beers, and watch the newest batch of commercials from some of the biggest brands in the country. I am told there’s also a football game.

This is the day companies spend millions of dollars for 30 seconds of air time. It’s absurd. But it’s the most viewed event of the entire year, so companies feel the need to get their air time. Except for Skittles. They've been doing something a little different.

Last year, Skittles was fed up with the high price of “Big Game” ad placement, and decided to ditch that mess and do their own thing. So, they did what any other rational company who wanted to advertise to millions of viewers would do. They made an ad for just one person (Check it out. It rules). This little stunt got them billions of media impressions, which, in a lot of ways, is just as good as paid placement.

Where does Skittles go after the major success of last year’s stunt? Broadway of course. During halftime, Skittles will present a one-time performance of Skittles Commercial: The Broadway Musical. Lead by Six Feet Under’s own Michael C. Hall (fuck Dexter), this 30-minute musical is slated to be very meta. Their website states, “Through song and dance, the show takes an absurdly self-reflective look at consumerism and the ever-increasing pervasiveness of brand advertising in our lives.”

It’s fucking brilliant, and I can’t wait to hear how it turns out.

Companies Taking a Stand

Other than writing as many “fucks” and “shits” as I want, one of the coolest things about writing this blog untied from any agency has to be freely expressing whatever dumb-fucking-shit opinion I have. Don’t get me wrong, my old company gave me a lot of freedom, but I always felt it best to stray away from any “controversial” or “political” opinions. Now I’m off the leash and ready to spread my leftist propaganda like a mother fucking virus!

There is a great divide in our country. I know it’s always been there, but it seems way worse ever since the 2016 campaign trail. Regardless, with this growing separation between liberals and conservatives/left and right/cool dudes and white people, companies are also taking sides. And I think it’s a really fucking smart idea.

As you’ve probably seen (and possibly burnt your own shoes about), Nike was one of the first major companies to take a stand for what they believed in. Hiring “controversial” athlete, Colin Kaepernick, to be the face of their newest campaign was a really bold move, but it paid off big time.

Yes, they faced a backlash. Fox News was all up their ass about “DiSrEsPeCtInG tHe FlAg,” and Twitter users shared a litany of videos of people destroying the products they already bought and paid for. But overall, the campaign was killer and showed that the company was willing to put themselves at risk for equality and doing what is right—though I’m sure they’re heartbroken your shitty uncle won’t buy their socks ever again.

Gillette was the next big company to pick a side. They took a stance on the truly controversial topic of “not being a shitty dude.” I really don’t know where the backlash for this came from, but apparently, men don’t like being told that it’s wrong to catcall and sexually assault women. For a bunch of “manly-men,” they’re really crying like little babies over a minute-long video. The ad is still pretty new, but it already seems to be resonating well with younger male audiences, but not so much with boomers. Weird, right?

And lastly, Patagonia just announced that they will donate all 10 million dollars they saved on tax cuts to environmental groups. I don’t know how people will find a way to be upset by this, but I don’t doubt for a single second that someone will. The world is a nightmare.

Listen, I know there are always going to counter-arguments.

“Oh, they’re just exploiting a current issue to make money.”

“Oh, you may think they’re doing the right thing, but their internal business model is totally fucked.”

“Oh, not all men.”

“Oh, that money could have gone to hard workers and not a stupid tree or whatever.”

It really doesn’t matter. This is advertising. They are spreading a message. You may not need a razor at this moment, but that spot can also serve as a reminder to be a better man. You may prefer a different brand of athletic wear, but that doesn’t mean you won’t be able to see how much a person has sacrificed to support a cause. You may not be a white Instagrammer, but now you know that some companies are doing honorable things. These companies aren't just selling products, they’re also selling ideals.

Gratitude

As I’ve alluded to throughout this post, I recently lost my job. I wanted to make light of it a little, but I also just wanted to get some things off my chest. The truth of the matter is this: I am forever grateful for the opportunity I was given and the people I befriended along the way. I was able to work with and learn from some of the most talented people I have ever met. I took a huge risk moving to a smaller, one-agency town to take this job—and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I am forever thankful for this time in my life.

One of my biggest New Year’s resolutions was to express more gratitude. As I said before, the country is divided. I can’t seem to hop on any social media channel without seeing some kind of bullshit-fueled fight going on. Everyone seems to be focusing on the negative and no one really cares about the positive (I fully understand the irony of this sentence). But this could change by expressing more gratitude for the people in your life and amazing opportunities.

Listen, I could be really pissed about the current state of the world. And honestly, I am. But I’m trying to express more positivity. Everyone else can complain about our turd of a president 24 hours a day. Why not tell the important people in your life why you’re thankful to have them? It’s a really fucking simple thing to do—and it could possibly start a chain reaction.

Listen, I’m not going to tell you to not focus on the bad parts of your job or whatever because that shit is so much more easily said than done. And it also goes on a job-by-job basis (I couldn’t really think of a positive in working in corporate finance or some soul-sucking shit like that). But I will say this, I’m thankful I was able to work a job where I could see a bright side. I learned a lot and I’m looking forward to the next steps in my career.

I know it seems tough to remain positive in such dark times. But, fuck, this is your life. You’ve only got one of em. Don’t spend it worrying or complaining all the time. Find the positive and try and improve upon that… or don’t. It’s your fuckin’ life. Do whatever you want.

Well, guys, that’s it for my very first Tite Five (but also not, ya know?). I hope this was as enthralling as Chris made it out to be. I love you all. I’ll probably see you next week with another post of sorts. Take care and don’t drink and drive after the “Big Game.”

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benzilla80 · 6 years

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Waterous Trail on Foot 50 Miler – The Resurrection

The Backstory

The lead up to this race had been a pretty solid one by my standards. WTF 100 miler in 2015 was a qualifier race for another 100 miler on the Australian east coast. After nearly a year of waiting, I was accepted to race in the Great Southern Endurance Run (GSER) A 181km 10,000m vertical gain alpine race. Fast forward almost another year and the race is fast approaching this coming November.

I will try not to wander to far from this race, but it was all part of my preparation. My GSER training program involved nearly a year’s worth of ‘racing diet’ Both for financial and racing effort reasons. Since Australia Day Ultra in January until GSER in November, there was to be only one race, and that was a ‘test and tune’ event. WTF50 was perfect. Local, I knew the course and it was a chance to test out some things under race conditions.

Training involved a good base of 100km weeks before training even started. Bread and butter weeks including one interval session, one tempo session and one long run as the foundation. The first few weeks were 6 days a week with easy volume runs filling in between the harder workouts, then I swapped to 7 days a week and targeted at least 2,00m elevation gain. The training week of WTF was a 130k week with an extremely short 3-day taper.

What The Actual Race Day

I got as early a night as I could, and rose on the first alarm, quietly got ready and drove myself to the start line with an instant packet of porridge warming my belly. The drive was dark, wet and not exactly inspiring for what lay ahead.

I arrived at the meet point a bit early and was not sure of the new parking area, eventually, I found the toilets and parking area and Sergio was also wandering about in the rain looking for the start. A few moments later a stream of cars rolled in and it was on. I parked and walked behind my car to get my gear out and stood in a large puddle…. great.

Race director Dave Kennedy (DK) arrived in the big orange bus and we get through the drop bag process quick and easy then take the short walk through the early daw sunlight to the start line proper. It’s raining lightly and I am in two minds about keeping my hooded jacket on or not, I hate running in that thing, yet didn’t want to spend all day wet either, so it stayed on.

Race line brief, I hit my watch to get the location and it has an update waiting for me…. c’mon really? You need to do this now?! (I ended up starting the race without it tracking and got it sorted on the go, but that explains the minute difference between my watch time and gun time)

We set off and I’m about mid-pack and 50 meters into the race the lead guys run right by the first turn and take half the pack with them. I call out and everyone gets back on track among a few laughs. I find myself running with a person I didn’t recognise, Thomas with another lady I didn’t recognise Martina. Both looked springy and ready to go and as Chris and Andrew joined me they pulled ahead. The boys and I had agreed to run together for as long as it worked as a Runningworks Team, which I was happy for. The company was nice and I offered a few tips and laughs along the way. Both those guys had potential to win, and now there were two other factors I had not considered opening a gap ahead. I told the guys to be patient, 80k is a long way.

The first 5km is mostly downhill, so I tried to keep the pace comfortable but not silly. I said to Andrew “forget the split times and think of the split effort, consistent effort is more important than maintaining a specific number, some will be fast, some will be slow so think of the overall effort” I had planned my effort to be above training but stay below racing pace.

Things were going well, Martine came back to the group on one of the last big downhills before the river and Thomas opened the gap more and more. Our group of three crossed the river and began the next long 1.6km climb. I was happy to use my poles and run walk this, Chris seemed eager to run more and Andrew was happier to listen to his wife’s advice “winners walk the hills” Either way, we stayed pretty much together and were on the more runnable stuff into Kingsbury Drive Aid Station holding a nice pace and chatting away. Our average was pretty much 8 hours flat and Thomas was out of sight, a quick glance behind saw a few runners not far back, also in good spirits.

We round the last bend and I ask the guys if they were stopping and both said yes. I mentioned I needed to get my jacket off and have a pee so they might catch me then, but I avoid stopping at stations if I don’t have to. I had packed enough gear to not stop and ran right thought “307 in…307 out”

I would not see the boys again until Goldmine Hill’s out and back leg.

Running solo, I expected to slow down a bit, but managed to hold some pretty good pace on the hard-packed trail between the Kingsbury rd. crossing, around the plantation and into the ‘lil bitch’ (a term I use for my second most disliked part of the course, not an official name haha) the first of two rolling technical hills sections that can be tough in both directions, at least this year was a one way trip for me. A few hiking breaks and 6-7minute km’s saw me through to the Boyd Road section in pretty good shape. It was here my heart rate was elevated when I saw two rather large off leash Rottweilers running towards me with a small third dog in chase…. ALARM! The owner was close by and called the dogs and thankfully they had a great recall and decided against chewing on the skinny runner passing by! Just before leaving the road section I saw Chris’s wife Sandy and the rest of the support team at the junction. I appreciate the cheers guys. This was followed by a right turn and ‘big bitch’.

Part two of the rolling hill sections. It’s really not that bad, and many a runner would take it in their stride, but it’s enough to break your rhythm and technical enough to make you consider your footing and conserving the quad strength, it’s too soon to be burning them up. A few slower km’s and I took the chance to cram in some calories, after all the more you eat the less you have to carry! A couple of great single-track kilometres saw me popping out at the North Dandalup Dam Aid Station. 30km into the race and my first official stop. “307 in” and I was greeted by the lovely Kel, Harms and Jez at the table. “4 minutes behind the leader Ben” They took my rubbish and passed me my drop bag containing a kids sized packet of plain chips, a mini can of ginger ale and one Winners bar. I can’t remember if I had my bottles filled, I don’t think so?! I ate the chips, drank the drink and pocketed the bar “307 out” and was on my way. 30th kilometre was 7:15, so probably puts the total aid stop somewhere between 90 seconds and two minutes before setting out over the picturesque dam wall. 6 minutes behind Thomas.

As I crossed the wall in clear blue skies and tried to take in the views I reflected on two things, one was immediate and one was more philosophical. Firstly, was race related, Thomas was 6 minutes ahead, that’s a pretty solid kilometre gap and I figured I would see him in the next hour, or I would never see him again and the dark house effect had taken place once again like a Survivor blind side. Only time would tell. Secondly was a conversation I had with a hiker one day during training “runners see twice as much but only half as good” SO I made the effort to take in the views on the go, to really see twice as much

From the dam wall to the Out and Back Aid Station is my favourite part of the course. Even though it’s hilly it is still my favourite. Rolling single tracks, perfect for mountain bikers. Bermed banks and bush right up to the trail edge. I didn’t even mind the puddles or diversion around large fallen trees, plus I was almost halfway and the average pace was still sub 8-hour finish.

35.5km and I pop out at the Out and Back Aid Station, this year a full aid station and I cruise right through to complete the out and back leg before stopping. The volunteers cheer and I start the climb over Goldmine Hill, now officially on the local favourite 6 Inch Trail Marathon course heading towards it’s start. I break out the poles and run walk my way over the top and part way down to the 50 mile turn around. All the while wondering “Has Thomas opened the gap and run away, or will I see him any second?” Passing the Dodd’s sign, I see him on the return trip and we both look at our watches. As we crossed I gave him a cheer but I don’t think he heard me as he had headphones in, he was also climbing and probably doing the maths, as was I.

I hit the run and take two steps more, just to be sure and start my way back with that number locked in my mind, I pass the sign and #margiemaths has the gap back to 4 minutes, so I had clawed back the two-minute aid stop but at what cost? Hiking over the top with my poles clicking away I see SJ, it actually took at least 30 seconds for me to place the face and name but I got there in the end and smiled my way over the hill, stowed my poles and ran down the backside of Goldmine Hill towards resupply.

“307 in” and I find a bin to drop my rubbish and grab my drop bag. I pass on the chips and just drink the ginger ale. Helped by Elise and another lady I recognised but could not place a name, I’m bad with names until I hang out with them, sorry for not being able to thank you by name! I donate my ration of snake lollies to the aid station kitty as I still had a few left from the start of the race and stow my re-filled soft flask bottles. DK mentions I am looking in good shape and I feel pretty good at the halfway mark. In the parting seconds of the stop I cross paths with the leader of the 100 mile race, Nate. He is looking fresh as a daisy! With the roar of four people clapping it’s “307 out” and I’m starting the longest leg, 25km to the fabled Treasure Island at Oakley Dam.

The first half of this leg goes smoothly, I see the 100 pack coming past on their journey to Jarradale where I started and they all seem in good spirits and fairly spread out. I wish them all luck and they all cheer back, some saying “he’s right there” or similar but I was yet to see Thomas through he tree’s so I dismissed it as well meaning motivation but maybe not entirely accurate, #margiemaths really was a thing after all! It took until the sharp left turn across the rickety old wood bridge before I caught a glimpse of first place. I didn’t push or try to close the gap. I just maintained the same effort and let the cards fall where they may. At almost 48km we were should to should at the base of a long climb. We hiked for quite a long time (about 9 minutes!) and chatted about all sorts of things while we worked the hill. I took the chance to get some calories in knowing there was some runnable km’s coming up before the Del Park Road crossing. We crested the main climb and started running together, Thomas stayed with me for a while but seemed to drop off the back. Not sure if he stopped on purpose for a toilet break or just slowly slipped behind but the last I saw him at that stage was a cheer as we passed 50.1km, I called over my should “happy distance PB” we laughed and I turned my attention to my own effort and now had to make some decisions.

The section to the road crossing seemed to take a while and I tried my best to just run by feel and not try to run away from Thomas. I felt he had gone too hard too early and would now slip back in the pack as Chris and Andrew would be not far back, they were about 10-12 minutes back at Goldmine when I saw them there. From here I tried to dial the effort back a bit, this was a training run after all so I fell into the habit of looking back (which I always try not to do) and let myself hike more than I would if I was racing super hard. This had a weird effect on me and I hit my first low point of the race. My right wrist was getting sore when using the poles and I had to stop using them after the technical section from Del Park Rd and just ran the gentle climbs like Deadpool with my sticks strapped across my back. Hiking more than I wanted but I was also in a bit of a funk. Running past Tuner’s Hill (Aid 1 at 6 Inch) I berated myself for so many little hikes and committed to run to the Scrap Road crossing, “all the way, no walking, this is all runnable” I wanted to cruise slowly and consistently, but found I would run fast and get tired and the urge to walk was overwhelming. Weirdly, I felt exactly the same here at last year’s 100, and was passed in the exact same spot to slip from 2nd the 3rd (hat tip to Rob) I found the urge and saw a car coming which I think had a relay runner in it, he said “are you coming first?” and I replied “yes mate” trying to smile on the outside and “ gave me a cheer “that’s awesome, looking great” “thanks mate” as I passed by desperately trying to stay running. I knew the road was close now and was confident I was going to hold up my end of the deal and run all the way, before I hit a small rise and without permission my legs stopped running and I turned into a real life Jekyll and Hyde, right there out loud arguing with myself like a crazed lunatic “You f#$%ing P#$%y” “it is a training run, I don’t need to race that hard” “a deals a deal and you folded” Seriously, the weirdest conversation I have ever had and I was all alone. The rise was over and I was back running, chin up chest out in a bit of disbelief regards the last 30 seconds of my life.

I pass the start of the 3 Inch Trail Half Marathon course and begin the climb to the radio tower. I run the flatter stuff and hike the steeper parts, but walked almost a km solid to the top, eating what I can and drinking what I need to. Looking back, doing (now silent) deals with myself. As I pass the tower with the rumble of the conveyor belts to my left I feel the pull of Treasure Island and running down the other side I feel the funk passing. I see the relay guys again at the turn and they tell me I look fantastic and I confess “I’m not exactly feeling it” “I don’t think you are supposed to at 60km!” I cross the conveyor belt overpass thinking that he is right, I’m on target for a 8:30 finish and I had let my nutrition slip a bit that last long leg so of course I was feeling it. I ate another gel to be sure as I passed the ‘scarecrow’ and made the climb up towards Treasure Island.

I roll down the hill and can see signs posted for the runners, all pirate themed as the fabulous Treasure family embrace their name sake Aid Station. The road is lined with cars and there are people moving about. I hear a lady say to her daughters “her comes first place” and I smile. I don’t normally run this end of the field, only ever come first once before so it was a special feeling. I roll into Treasure Island to claps and cheers from a swarm of pirates. “307 in.”

I hand off one bottle to get me to the finish and leave one half full bottle in my vest. Blue is there with my drop bag, Frank fill my bottle and tried to give me a shot of rum, Ben and Shirley are right there packing my vest with my ‘to go’ bag and my other secret weapon, a small bottle of kids red fruit juice. That stuff sends kids crazy at parties, perfect for ultra-runners! I donate another small serve of chips and snakes to the aid station and finish my ginger ale. I mention that I really wanted to hit a sub 8:30 but I’m not so sure now and Blue does the maths for me “two hours to do 16 and a half kays’, no worries” (or to that effect) Going to be close but doable if I keep my head in the game. As I finish my drink Blue says, “don’t let us keep you” and two to three minutes later “307 out.”

Oakley Dam is a short 2km out and back that means you need to leave the marked Munda Biddi Trail. It also means you can once again see some of the field. I was expecting to see Chris or Andrew next, but was surprised it was Thomas, still holding on and still running. Kudo’s to him! Back to the scarecrow that is one of two danger points for navigation and has a history of runners missing the turn. As I was making the final turn back onto the trail I crossed paths with Aaron, but he was coming out of the trail and asked if he was going in the right direction. I confirmed the way to Oakley Dam and thought that was a good catch on his part in correcting the navigation mistake.

From here I was on the last leg, the final pull of the finish was there and the earlier pity party was wrapped up. The food was working and the mission was 16km in under 2 hours but to not destroy myself, maintain the faster than training, slower than race but should someone close the gap be prepared to run hard. The kilometres ticked by and I was happy with the effort. I drank my kids juice, tried to eat a bar but was over the dense food and only ate half of it. Not long later I ate two snakes, no point carrying them all the way and I continued to feel good.

Then it happened and for a moment I thought my race was done. As I neared the turn taken in the 6 Inch race that heads up to Aid 2, I began to cough. I had one almighty cough that was so violent my balls hurt and I doubled over and staggered to the side of the trail. Out of nowhere. I clutch my crotch and suppress the urge to cough again, I didn’t want the pain and I didn’t want to vomit. The urge passed and I got moving again, hesitant but moving. I had no idea where that came from and it worried me for a few seconds, but everything stayed down and the cough was a once off. I had a drink and decided to back off the eating for a little while. Pace came back and I was on my merry way, praying that didn’t happen again!

From here I hit a left turn onto the last of the notable climbs, mixed walk and run to get it done then steady pace, now alert for on coming mountain bikers heading out from Dwellingup. The effort is perfect, I do feel the miles but I’m not ‘running for my life’ Down the first powerline section and I have my final gel of the day and a drink. This section is open gravel road and I left the downhill flow, not even worried about looking back anymore. I feel if anyone catches me from here I can push it home. I just take in the trail, even saw a train! That’s a weird feeling seeing a steam train moving through the scrub where you had no idea there was train tracks! Now enjoying myself I sipped my water and did my best to avoid the run off puddles, one section of single track was impossible to avoid, it usually is so I just ploughed on through. Less than 10km with wet socks was fine, they had been wet most of the day anyway.

Second powerline section and into the Marrinup Maze. Five kilometres to home. One parkrun. Passing through the campground I have one last look back and can only see campers. I enjoy running the winding single track, taking in the berms and not caring about the puddles. Running well I think that this is what today was about. Not winning or leading or any of that stuff, but running well on tired legs. The training part of today. Manage the effort, be running well at the end and somewhere between 8 and 8.5 hours. A win was cream on the cake, or more accurately new shoes on my feet.

I pass the familiar farm with the hole in the shed and pigs, the dog barks at me as I run past, as Alexis predicted and now only 3km to go.

I pass some hikers and their border collie out for a casual walk, must be close now. I hear the noise of a country town and know in my bones it’s close and then I see a yellow trail marker. The original last turn to the finish. Now a four-way junction, and DK’s races have used all four in the past. There is no tape, I stand still in the junction and process my options and decide to follow the trail markers to the train tracks and see some tape at the upcoming road junction. I made the right choice and pop out once again on Del Park Road to a sign 50M to FINISH with an arrow.

I make the final turn and scan around looking for a finish line. The pub is busy, there are people in the park and I look both ways as I cross the train lines then ahead I see my youngest son running towards me, then comes my oldest into view and I choke back a sob. They had other plans that day and I didn’t expect to see them or my wife at the finish. I gathered them around my arms and jogged over the road to the group outside a small building. “where’s the finish line?” “you’re standing on it” and a wave of relief sweeps me as I pause my watch and look down.

It says 8:19.49, which was corrected to 8:20 and change considering my watch took a minute to sort itself out on the start line. Almost an hour faster than my 2014 race. I was pumped with the result, and stoked to have my family there to share it.

A word of warning to runners in DK’s events, if you have an issue with the course marking, be prepared to do something about it! Dave grabbed some tape and joked about sending me back out, but I also know he was recovering from a 200 mile race himself. So, I gathered the kids and Alicia and we took a slow stroll back to the four-way junction to put some tape down for the next runners. Thomas ended up holding second for the last 30km running sub 9 hours on his 50 mile debut.

A special thanks to DK and his wife Belle for putting on a great event, even getting us some sunshine during the day. To the aid station teams who put so much work, time, money and effort into helping us runners. Many are friends already and I can’t thank you enough.

Fast and Dirty Stats

Distance – 81.8km, 8 hours 20minutes, average pace 6:06/km

Calories consumed – Approx. 1,000 – 1,100, (7,000 burnt)

Water consumed – 2.5 litres, Kids Juices – 3, Mini Ginger ales – 3

Shoes – Altra Superior 3.0’s, Innov-8 mud sock with Stone Free Running Gaiters (also recommend Treasure Gaiters if you are in the market)

Shirt – TEAM RUNNINGWORKS tech shirt, Innov-8 Race shell when it was wet.

Poles - Carbon Fibre Z Poles

Vest, Salomon S/Lab 12 set

2 notes · View notes

nanenna · 6 years

Text

Mystery Machine Mishap!

Chapter 3: A New Routine

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 4

Fandom: Undertale Rating: General Audiences Pairing: None Summary: There was an accident at the Lab and now Papyrus is left trying to take care of Sans as a toddler while Alphys tries to figure out what went wrong and how to fix it. To say Papyrus is unprepared is not just an understatement, it’s downright fact. But Papyrus is determined to be the best big brother ever, even better than Sans is when he’s the older on.

As usual, also available to read on fanfiction.net or AO3 under the same name. (links not included because that messes with the search function)

Nearly a week had gone by. Papyrus found that his days fell into a rhythm as he cared for his little big brother. He couldn’t help but feel forgotten by Alphys, she hadn’t called since that first day, she barely updated her Undernet profile anymore, and even Undyne hadn’t heard much from the reclusive scientist. Papyrus wanted to take it as a good sign, that it meant Alphys was working hard on fixing the machine and getting Sans back to normal. But at the same time he would have liked to hear from her. So after laying Sans down for his afternoon nap, Papyrus pulled up the doctor’s contact info and started a call.

“H-hello?”

“HELLO, DR. ALPHYS!”

“Oh! P-Papyrus! What are you… why are you… what’s g-going on?”

“I WANTED TO FIND OUT HOW YOU ARE DOING. UNDYNE TELLS ME YOU SOMETIMES FORGET TO TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF AND I WANTED TO MAKE SURE YOU WERE EATING AND RESTING REGULARLY.”

“Oh, um… it’s fine. I’m fine, Undyne has been over often to make sure I uh… don’t get lost in my work?? She really wants to help me as much as she can, she says with both you and Sans uh… out of commission th-that the sentry stations are really falling apart.”

“OH DEAR, I WAS SO BUSY TAKING CARE OF SANS THAT I DIDN’T EVEN THINK ABOUT HOW MANY SENTRY STATIONS WERE GOING UNMANNED!”

“Y-yeah, I don’t think Undyne has replacements for you either. She wants you both to have jobs waiting for you when uh… when I eventually m-m-manage to fix things.”

“THAT IS THE OTHER REASON I WAS CALLING, I WAS HOPING YOU WOULD TELL ME HOW THINGS ARE GOING. HAVE YOU FINISHED DECIPHERING THE NOTES? HOW BADLY IS THE MACHINE BROKEN?”

“I’ve uh… I’m almost halfway through the notes! I had to use the other blueprints and notes that Sans had already deciphered for me to try and make a cipher for these notes. At first it seemed like it was just a straight one for one alphabet replacement and would be fairly simple, but not all of the translations Sans has written out match up. I was starting to wonder if there were some shifting going on, some sort of extra key I’d need but don’t have, but when I applied the cipher I had first developed to the already translated notes I realized that Sans was summarizing a lot of this stuff, so my cipher actually works! It’s going faster now that I’ve figured that out, the only hard part is just how messy the handwriting is. Whoever wrote all this down has just the worst handwriting!”

“SO NOW THAT YOU HAVE A CIPHER, THINGS WILL MOVE QUICKER? HOW MUCH LONGER DO YOU THINK IT WILL TAKE?”

“Oh, w-well… like I said the handwriting is very m-messy so I have to keep going back and correcting my translations, w-which means my translations are g-getting messy too and uh… even after I finish t-translating all these I still have to start work on the machine itself so uh… it might take a w-while yet.”

“THAT IS FINE, I WOULD RATHER YOU TAKE THINGS SLOW AND GET IT RIGHT THAN TO RUSH AND HAVE AN ACCIDENT YOURSELF!”

“Y-yeah, that’d be just… just awful!” Alphys laughed nervously.

“WELL THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME, DR. ALPHYS. GOOD LUCK!”

“Oh! Okay then, g-good luck to you too! With uh… with little Sans that is. I m-mean, I’m sure you’re taking great c-care of him. And uh… okaygottagohaveagooddaybye!”

There was a faint click as the call abruptly ended, then Papyrus scrolled through his contacts. He hadn’t put much thought into what he was about to do, but it just felt right. Papyrus hit the call button.

“Hey dork!” Undyne’s voice greeted him.

“HELLO UNDYNE!”

“So what’s going on, the little squirt doing okay?”

“OH SANS IS FINE, HE’S DOWN FOR A NAP RIGHT NOW. I WAS JUST TALKING TO DR. ALPHYS AND SHE REMINDED ME THAT I HAVE BEEN TERRIBLY NEGLECTFUL OF MY DUTIES EVER SINCE THE ACCIDENT.”

“Well yeah, you have a baby to take care of. A literal baby! That’s a lot of work!”

“A TODDLER, BUT THAT IS NO EXCUSE TO NEGLECT MY DUTIES AS A SENTRY! SO TOMORROW I’M GOING TO RESUME MY DUTIES. I’M AFRAID THERE IS NOT MUCH WE CAN DO ABOUT SANS, BUT I CAN AT LEAST RE-CALIBRATE MY PUZZLES, DO MY PATROLS, AND WATCH OUT FOR HUMANS LIKE I’M SUPPOSED TO!”

“Well, if you’re sure...”

“DON’T WORRY, I HAVE EVERYTHING UNDER CONTROL! NYEH HEH HEH!” Papyrus hit the end call button, then decided to go upstairs and check on Sans. When he got to the top of the stairs his eye sockets were drawn to the end of the hallway where Sans was staring up at the blank wall, one elbow up which probably meant his thumb was in his mouth again, and a bright orange dinosaur plush toy dragging limply from his other hand. “SANS? WHAT RE YOU DOING OVER THERE?”

Sans turned around at Papyrus’s voice, then slowly toddled over to the taller skeleton and raised his arms to be picked up. Papyrus obligingly picked Sans up and cuddled him close. “WHAT IS IT, BROTHER?”

“i miss daddy.” Sans sniffled as he clung to Papyrus, “where daddy?”

“DADDY IS…” Papyrus hesitated, unsure what exactly to tell Sans, “DADDY IS AWAY. RIGHT NOW.” There, that was close enough to the truth. He didn’t want to outright lie to Sans, but he also had no idea how to tell the toddler that he had no idea where their father was or even if he was still alive at all. Papyrus couldn’t remember it, but he was fairly certain their father had Fallen Down a long time ago. He sighed as he rocked the clinging toddler. “I’M SURE HE MISSES YOU AS MUCH AS YOU MISS HIM.”

Sans made an indistinct noise as he buried his face into Papyrus’s shoulder. Well, the only thing to do was to distract him. “WHY DON’T WE GET SOME STURDY CLOTHES ON AND GO OUTSIDE TO PLAY IN THE SNOW? WE CAN BUILD A SNOWMAN!” Papyrus suggested enthusiastically.

Sans gave a small nod, he did like building snowmen with Papyrus.

The next day, after breakfast was finished and the dishes were washed and put away, Papyrus dressed Sans in the warmest clothes they had. Papyrus knew it didn’t really matter, that Sans wouldn’t even feel the cold, but it made him feel better anyway. Papyrus also pulled out one of the things Gerson had sent over: a toddler leash. Papyrus hadn’t felt the need for it yet, he had stayed pretty close to Sans so far or carried the toddler whenever they went somewhere far. But while he was on patrol and re-calibrating his puzzles… Papyrus attached it to Sans, then clipped the other end to his belt.

“TODAY, SANS, WE ARE FINALLY GOING BACK TO WORK. I WILL RE-CALIBRATE ALL OF OUR PUZZLES! AND WE WILL GO ON PATROL! AND WE WILL BE PRODUCTIVE! TOGETHER!”

“yay!” Sans cheered, and Papyrus was so happy to see Sans be enthusiastic about work for once!

“LET’S GO!” Papyrus took Sans outside and they set off. Papyrus knew they had a lot of ground to cover, so he was striding along at his usual, speedy pace.

“pappus! pappus wait!” Sans’s little legs couldn’t keep up. He tried running after Papyrus, tripped, and fell flat on his face.

Papyrus stopped and went back to pick him up, but Sans was already sniffling and whining about the snow in his orbits and nasal cavity. “NOW, NOW, YOU’RE SUCH A BIG MONSTER! NO NEED TO CRY!” Papyrus gently brushed the snow form his brother’s face, then picked Sans up. “WHY DON’T I CARRY YOU TO THE PUZZLES, THEN WE CAN RE-CALIBRATE THEM TOGETHER!” Sans simply nodded as he snuggled into his brother’s arms.

As Papyrus continued to walk Sans perked up and began looking around in interest, he hadn’t been brought past the ‘Welcome to Snowdin’ sign. Not since the accident, anyway. The scenery quickly became boring, just more of the same snow and trees as the town without interesting buildings to break it up. Sans settled into Papyrus’s arms and let himself be carried. Soon they came to the first puzzle, the slippery Xs and Os one. Re-calibrating it was always a challenge for Papyrus, even without a toddler along for the ride, but Papyrus refused to be defeated. He deftly skated across the ice with Sans in one arm and soon had it calibrated perfectly.

“THERE, SEE? I KNEW WE COULD DO IT!”

“’m bored,” Sans whined.

“WELL THAT IS BECAUSE YOU COULD NOT HELP WITH THIS PUZZLE. I AM SURE THE NEXT ONE WILL BE FAR MORE ENTERTAINING. IN FACT, AFTER I RE-CALIBRATE IT YOU SHOULD TRY SOLVING IT!”

Sans nodded, unsure how exciting that really would be.

Papyrus easily stepped over the spikes to the next puzzle and set Sans down. He started working on the puzzle, leaving Sans to his own devices. The toddler ran back and forth over the tiles until all the ones in the leash’s reach were triangles, then he stomped about in the snow. After that grew boring, he picked up a handful of snow and dropped it onto Papyrus’s back as the taller skeleton knelt over the tiles.

“SANS, PLEASE! I’M WORKING!”

Sans huffed, plopped his coccyx in the snow and crossed his arms. He was now thoroughly bored and his brother was ignore him. After a while that got boring too, so Sans got up and ran to the end of his leash, then zigzagged around Papyrus.

Papyrus finally finished with the tile he was working on and got up to move onto the next one. When he stood he immediately lost his balance and fell face first into the snow. There was something caught around his ankles. Papyrus managed to push himself half up and get a look at what had happened: he was completely tangled up in the leash.

“SANS! WHAT DID YOU DO?!”

Sans just looked up at him with the biggest grin across his face. Papyrus sighed, then untangled himself. He did a quick check of his inventory, he had taken to keeping a couple toys in there for when he needed a quick distraction for Sans. Oh good, he had a pail and little plastic shovel set in there. “HERE SANS, WHY DON’T YOU BUILD A SNOW CASTLE?”

“okay.” Sans took the offered toys and plopped down in the snow. With a sigh of relief Papyrus returned to re-calibrating his puzzle.

“THERE, ALL RE-CALIBRATED! NOW, ONTO THE NEXT PUZZLE.” Sans didn’t resist as Papyrus picked him up and carried him over the spikes to the next puzzle. Having learned from his mistake, Papyrus decided to attach the leash to a nearby tree so Sans couldn’t tangle him up again. Though this shouldn’t take long, this puzzle was much simpler than the one he had just finished.

It turned out this puzzle had taken some damage the more complex puzzle hadn’t. Not only did Papyrus have to re-calibrate it, he had to thaw and repair it first. Eventually everything was finished and the puzzle was good as new. Papyrus dusted off his hands in satisfaction as he looked down at the puzzle. “THERE, ALL DONE! DO YOU WANT TO TRY SOLVING THIS ONE, SANS?” Papyrus turned to where he had left the toddler, “SANS?” The toddler harness was abandoned in the snow, the leash still attached to the tree. “SANS!” Papyrus ran over to the tree, little footprints lead further up the path. Papyrus thanked his lucky stars that today it wasn’t snowing and the tracks were untouched.“IT’S OKAY,” Papyrus told himself as he followed the tiny little footprints, “SANS WON’T BE ABLE TO GET PAST THE SPIKES AT THE NEXT PUZZLE, HE’S TOO SMALL!”

A surge of panic welled up in Papyrus’s chest, the spikes to the next puzzle were down. It needed to be re-calibrated. And Sans’s footprints lead right through the thin layer of snow over the retracted spikes. Papyrus tried not to panic as he kept following the footprints, then a noise caught his attention. It sounded like something was whining and… snuffling? Breathing of some kind, and lots of it. He looked around the next tree and found a pile of dogs gathered around a happily squealing babybones.

“puppy!” Sans declared as he tried to pet Doggo, Dogamy, and Dogaressa all at once.

(Puppy!) Dogaressa agreed as she happily wagged her tail and sniffed at Sans’s hands.

“SANS! THERE YOU ARE! YOU HAD ME WORRIED SICK!” Papyrus ran over and picked Sans up, cuddling his babybones brother close. “DON’T EVER WANDER OFF LIKE THAT AGAIN!”

“Hello Papyrus!” The three dogs greeted as they all rolled onto their feet and got up.

Dogamy held up a paw in greeting, “Why is Sans out here?”

(… so far from town?) Dogaressa continued.

“I’M WATCHING HIM, OF COURSE!”

Dogamy and Dogaressa looked at each other, then back at Papyrus. “Make sure to keep an eye on the little pup.”

(We wouldn’t want him to get lost.)

“I KNOW,” Papyrus assured. “HE CAN BE QUITE THE SLIPPERY SNAIL SOMETIMES, BUT I AM KEEPING A VERY CAREFUL EYE SOCKET ON HIM.”

“Hmmm...” Dogamy hummed to himself, but otherwise said nothing.

Doggo pulled out a dog treat and started to light it, only to be smacked by Dogaressa. (Not near the puppy!)

“Alright, alright. Sheesh!” Doggo turned and started wandering towards his sentry station.

“WELL, I’VE GOT MORE ROUNDS TO DO AND PUZZLEs TO RE-CALIBRATE.”

“We’ll see you later,” Dogamy called.

“SAY GOODBYE TO THE DOGGIES, SANS.”

“bye bye, I love you!”

There was a gasp, followed by, (“We love you too”) as Papyrus carried Sans away.

The rest of Papyrus’s shift went off without a hitch, he managed to keep Sans busy or distracted enough to not wander off again. After stopping off at home to feed Sans and grab a few more snacks and toys, Papyrus carried Sans towards Waterfall.

“gun?” Sans asked as they entered the damp caverns.

“NO, WE’RE NOT GOING TO VISIT GERSON TODAY. WE’RE GOING TO GO SEE AUNTY UNDYNE.”

“aunty!” Sans yelled happily and threw his arms up in the air.

Undyne was waiting for them outside her house, foot tapping impatiently as they entered the little nook her house was tucked in. “Papyrus,” Undyne grit out angrily.

“HELLO UNDYNE, WE’RE HERE FOR MY WARRIOR TRAINING!”

Undyne ground her teeth, “Papyrus I just… I can’t believe you!”

“I DON’T UNDERSTAND, WHAT DON’T YOU BELIEVE?” Sans started fussing as Papyrus stared at Undyne in confusion.

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU’D DO SOMETHING SO… SO..!” Rather than finish her sentence, Undyne yelled at the cavern roof. Sans hid his face in Papyrus’s shoulder, his bones started rattling. “You took a small child with you out into the middle of the woods while you were WORKING! And what’s more, YOU LOST HIM! Do you have any idea how lucky you are the Dogi found him?!” Papyrus tried to speak but Undyne just kept going. “What if the Dogi hadn’t found him? What if someone dangerous had? Or what if he had fallen off one of those cliffs? What would you have done if he had gotten lost in the woods and you couldn’t find him?!”

“THAT’S-”

“And then you brought him to WARRIOR TRAINING?! Papyrus! You can’t bring a toddler to warrior training! He’s a toddler for the Angel’s sake!”

“UNDYNE, YOU’RE SCARING SANS.” Papyrus ran a soothing hand up and down the trembling toddler’s spine.

“He shouldn’t even be here right now. And if you can’t get someone to take care of him for you, neither should you!”

Papyrus’s jaw opened and closed a few times, then he turned and walked away. The walk home was much slower, Papyrus kept pausing every now and then to whisper comforting words to the still trembling toddler in his arms. One of those times was next to the bridge seed puzzle, and Sans finally responded.

“aunty meeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaan!” He wailed loudly, then burst into big, messy tears. Papyrus was relieved, if a little sad that is battle body was going to need to be washed again. The subdued trembling had stopped, and the wailing he knew how to handle. By the time they made it home Sans had quieted down to sniffles and muffled sobs that meant all Papyrus would have to do was clean him up and put on a cheerful face to distract him. Maybe put him down for a nap since he was overdue. “aunty mean,” Sans repeated once they were through the door.

“YES, UNDYNE WAS BEING QUITE FORCEFUL, BUT SHE ONLY YELLED LIKE THAT BECAUSE SHE REALLY CARES AND WAS WORRIED ABOUT YOU.”

“aunty mean,” Sans insisted angrily.

“AND SHE WON’T BE AGAIN, BECAUSE I AM GOING TO TAKE EVEN BETTER CARE OF YOU THAN BEFORE, SO SHE WON’T HAVE A REASON TO WORRY LIKE THAT AGAIN! NOW! LET’S GET YOU CLEANED UP, IT CAN’T BE COMFORTABLE HAVING YOUR SKULL COVERED IN SNOT AND DRIED TEARS!” Sans huffed, but otherwise made no fuss as Papyrus carried him upstairs to get washed up.

The next morning Papyrus walked Sans over to the Libarby, careful to keep his steps slow and small so the toddler could keep up. Inside the librarian greeted Papyrus and Sans cheerfully, “And is Sans here for the daycare?”

“YES, I WAS TOLD I COULD LEAVE HIM WITH YOU WHILE I TEND TO MY DUTIES.”

“Of course,” the librarian chirped cheerfully, “we just need you to sign him in.” The librarian pushed a clipboard over to Papyrus, which he quickly filled out.

“OKAY SANS, BE GOOD FOR THE LIBRARIANS WHILE I’M GONE.”

“no!” Sans attached himself to Papyrus’s boot and glared up at the librarian.

“SANS, PLEASE!”

“Don’t you want to play with the other children?” The librarian’s question had Sans pausing to look up at her inquisitively. “You can walk him back, a lot of children get over their separation anxiety easier when they have other children to distract them.”

“GREAT IDEA! COME ALONG SANS, LET’S GO MEET THE OTHER CHILDREN YOU WILL BE SPENDING THE DAY WITH.” Sans allowed himself to be led into the back of the library where a few other young children were already playing with toys. A curious puppy trotted over to the new comers and sniffed at Sans.

“puppy!” Sans squealed happily before enthusiastically petting the puppy.

“Pets!” The puppy happily squealed back, their tail already thrashing about. Sans was so engrossed by his new playmate that he didn’t even notice Papyrus quietly sneaking away.

When Papyrus returned to pick Sans up that afternoon, Sans dropped the toy he had been holding and ran full tilt into Papyrus’s legs. “HELLO SANS, DID YOU HAVE A GOOD DAY PLAYING WITH THE OTHER CHILDREN?”

“missed you,” Sans grumbled as he clung to his bother’s legs.

“I MISSED YOU TOO, HOW ABOUT WE GO HOME NOW?”

“ok.” Sans held his arms up, refusing to budge until Papyrus picked him up.

“Don’t forget your drawings,” one of the librarians called as she held out a few papers to Papyrus.

“OH! I CAN’T WAIT TO LOOK AT THESE! I’LL PUT THEM RIGHT UP ON THE FRIDGE.” A big, excited grin was plastered over Papyrus’s face as he accepted the drawings.

Sans smiled bashfully and leaned his head against his brother’s shoulder, “love you, pappus.”

“I LOVE YOU TOO, SANS.” Papyrus dropped a kiss on top of Sans’s skull as they left the library.

Once home Sans refused to be put down, so Papyrus simply settled on the couch with Sans in his lap as he began looking through the drawings Sans had made. The first one was a lot of black shapes scribbled all over the page.

“WHAT’S THIS?”

“a bastard!” Sans replied as he pointed to one of the empty spots the black was scribbled around.

“A… A BASTARD?” Papyrus asked in disbelief.

“yeah! it goes bweeeeeeeen!” Sans held his hand up to his teeth and made a “roar” motion.

Papyrus looked back at the drawing, if the black were background and not the drawing itself like Papyrus had originally assumed… “OH, A BLASTER! YOU MEAN OUR SPECIAL ATTACK.” Papyrus summoned a blaster to illustrate his point.

Sans clapped his hands and pointed at the large skull floating serenely in the living room, “bastard! bastard!”

Papyrus dispelled the attack before an accident could happen, it was never wise to summon attacks indoors after all. “IT’S PRONOUNCED ‘BLASTER’, SANS. BLA-STER.”

“baster.”

“GETTING CLOSER.” He flipped to the next drawing, it was three faces. He could tell one was him and one was Sans, which meant the third one must be their father. Since it was just their faces this time there were more details, like uneven pupils inside their father’s eyes. Then again, the pupils Sans drew for his own eyes weren’t even either, it was likely just due to his toddlery hand-eye coordination. Aside from the pupils and what Papyrus could only assume was a pair of square-ish glasses, their father’s face looked very similar to his own, right down to the exaggerated cheekbones Sans had given them both.

“thaz you an’ me an’ daddy!” Sans cheerfully explained as he pointed to the faces.

“I CAN TELL, YOU DREW US VERY WELL.” The next drawing was their father again, this time alone. A full body picture that had their father wearing a long, white coat with dark clothes under it and some sort of square thing in on hand. “AND THIS IS DADDY TOO, RIGHT?”

“yeah!” Sans said excitedly. “when daddy come home?”

“I… I DON’T KNOW.” Papyrus admitted sadly. He really wished he could remember their father, or what had happened to him. Papyrus flipped to the next drawing, the first one to actually have any color in it. “OH! IT’S ME! AND MY BATTLE BODY!”

“yeah!” Sans grinned up at Papyrus.

The older skeleton felt tears welling up in his eye sockets, “THIS IS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL DRAWING I’VE EVER SEEN! I’M GOING TO GET THIS FRAMED!” Papyrus hugged Sans, which the toddler returned while giggling. After they had a moment to calm down, Papyrus flipped to the last picture. “IS THIS GRILLBY?”

“girby!”

The picture featured an orange, vaguely flame shaped blob with a few black shapes below it that could be Grillby’s usual vest and bow tie if you turned your head and squinted. “WE’LL HAVE TO SHOW THIS TO GRILLBY NEXT TIME WE SEE HIM, I’M SURE HE’LL BE VERY FLATTERED.”

“girby,” Sans said again, more quietly this time.

Papyrus picked Sans up and walked into the kitchen, “IN THE MEANTIME, LET’S PUT THESE ALL UP ON THE FRIDGE.” It was already overflowing with the drawings Sans had made, but Papyrus couldn’t bear the thought of taking any of them down. He shuffled the drawings around until there was room for the new ones, which were promptly put on display. “THERE! NOW, WHO’S READY FOR DINNER?”

“dinner!” Sans repeated and threw his hands into the air.

This chapter has some of my favorite lines, including my all fic favorite: bastard! I love it so much! I just... I’m so glad I came up with that. *wipes a tear away*

#undertale #nenna writes #myster machine mishap!#humor and fluff #queue

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kenzieam · 7 years

Text

You and Me and the Devil Makes Three - Chapter 2 (Eric and Fox)

Rating: M (Language, Violence, Lots of Smut)

Genre: Drama/Angst/Humour

Thanks everyone for the re-blogs and support!!! IT IS SO AWESOME!!!

@emmysrandomthoughts @beautifulramblingbrains @iammarylastar @tigpooh67 @bookwarm85 @badassbaker @captstefanbrandt @treeleaf @beltz2016 @girlwith100names @gaia25 @readsalot73 @slayer0507 @stone-met @lostinthebeans @lauraaan182 @girlslovestorys @lacy-love @fuckthatfeeling @sparklemichele @vitaevandal @micolegg @jaihardy @bookgirlthings @queenara4 @bluelassbird @mom2reesie @pathybo @letmagichappen @shaunarcanine @equalstrashflavoredtrash @itschibi @elaacreditava @lilu46 @tonyt1995 @jojogoo65 @littlesouthernrebel @sterek-foreverandever @kirstenisntkirsty @frecklefaceb

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A huge thank you to my beta and Jai-sister @iammarylastar ! Quelle equipe!

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****** TRIGGER WARNINGS - Rough (consensual) sex, Violent sex ********

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Eric stuffed his phone irritably back into his pocket then reached into the back for the first footlocker, fuck it was heavy.

“Hey! Why don’t you get over here and help me?” Eric yelled over his shoulder.

Fox ignored him.

“Hey!”

“What?”

“I said get over here and help me! You’re eating this goddamn food too!”

“That an order, boss?”

“YES!”

Fox grumbled but stood all the same, stomping down the steps and moving to stand beside Eric. She rubbed irritably at her forehead.

“Headache? Oh, that’s right,” Eric chuckled. “You’re hungover, probably cold too, since you wouldn’t ride up front.”

“Fuck off, Lurch.” Fox snarled. She reached for the footlocker but Eric elbowed her out of the way, more to annoy her than anything else and reached into the back. He yanked hard at the case and Fox grabbed the other end as it pulled off the truck. She made a face behind her sunglasses but didn’t comment as Eric started towards the house.

Their paces wouldn’t match and they engaged in a brief struggle of who would control the speed, with Eric yanking one way and Fox the other until Fox snapped angrily.

“You want to carry it yourself, boss-man?”

“Oh, quit it Princess,” Eric grumbled, nearly losing his balance when Fox yanked sharply at the box. She snickered at him and he scowled, yanking it back towards him. Even though Fox was expecting retaliation, the strength of his pull overbalanced her and she stumbled hard, banging her knee against the case.

“Fuck, Coulter! Quit being a fucking dick!”

“Stop being a bitch then.”

“Kiss my ass!”

“Don’t tempt me,” Eric grumbled, looking away.

Reaching the verandah Fox dropped the case unceremoniously and stomped to the door. She turned the knob but nothing happened. Eric smirked and elbowed her roughly out of the way.

“You need this.” He dangled the keys in front of her face, pulling them away with a chuckle when Fox made a grab for them. He held Fox at arm’s length, grinning as she struggled against his grip and inserted the key. It wouldn’t turn. Fox snorted, finally shrugging off Eric’s hand.

“Well? Oh, wise leader? What now?”

“Shut up.” Eric grumbled, trying the key again, this time it turned in the knob, but the door still refused to open. Fox snickered and crossed her arms, enjoying the show.

Eric rattled the knob and pushed at the door, his anger rising. What the fuck else could go wrong??

Suddenly, Fox body-checked Eric, knocking him forcefully out of the way. “For Christ’s sake Nose, let me.”

Eric moved to block her and protest, he had no idea what she was planning but was pretty sure it wasn’t good; but Fox was faster, raising her boot and kicking the door solidly. With a squeal and a splintering sound, the door swung open, banging against the wall.

“Things freeze shut out here in the sticks, especially if there’s no heat.” She brushed past Eric without another word.

It was on the tip of Eric’s tongue to chastise her for damaging property, but he’d been scolding Fox till he was blue in the face, for the last two damn years since she’d transferred, and a fat lot of good it had done so far, so he didn’t bother, only turned back to the truck and bellowed over his shoulder. “One more case, Princess!” ______________________________________________________________________________________________________

After another knock-down-drag-out over supper, Fox and Eric settled into their typical roles of silence and resentment. Going out of their way to annoy and disrupt the other made their first night alone at the cabin an especially tense one, with a little knick-knack falling off a shelf and shattering on the floor when Fox finally screamed a sarcastic ‘goodnight, fuckhead!’ and slammed her bedroom door.

The next day was no better. Circling each other warily when they couldn’t outright avoid each other, the morning dragged slowly. The silence was growing oppressive but both were damned if they were going to talk first and be the one to give in first.

Fox was unpacking one of the footlockers and stacking the food when Eric wandered in after lunchtime. He’d heard thumps and banging while he’d been reading and frankly didn’t trust Fox to do this job properly; although he knew this would end in a fight, his Erudite side could not stand to not get involved, plus, he was bored, riling up Fox right now would be sorely needed entertainment.

Fox’s hand clenched around the can as Eric spoke, suggesting where on the shelf to put it, but she said nothing. The next time Eric spoke up however, her patience snapped and so did she, the can bounced off the wall near Eric’s head.

“You are such a fucking NOSE! You can’t mind your own goddamn business, can you? You like being the boss, don’t you?” She snarled putting her hands on her hips.

“So?” Eric snapped, he hated being called a Nose, especially by a Banjo; but his mouth continued from there, taking him into territory he always tried to stay out of, leaving his brain in the dust. “I hear that’s what you like isn‘t it, to have the guy order you around a bit, make you his whore?”

Fox paled for a half-second before her face flushed with rage. “What the fuck does that- you’re the biggest whore around the compound, a different slut every night, so what about you??”

“What about me?!” Eric roared, his feet taking on a life of their own, reaching Fox in one long stride. A small part of his mind was shaking it’s head forlornly, lamenting his continued goose-stepping down Bad Decision lane, but Eric ignored it. He leaned down, his temper running the show and got nose to nose with her. “You need to shut your goddamn mouth!!”

“Make me!!” Fox shrieked and something inside Eric snapped, had been straining at it’s leash for awhile and was finally let loose.

He crashed his lips to Fox’s, grabbing the back of her head with one hand and pulling her closer to him. Their teeth ground against their lips as their mouths crushed together and Fox exploded. She pushed Eric away and he stumbled back a step, heart thundering in his chest, but before he could recover she launched herself at him and they staggered backwards. Eric’s arms instinctively wrapped around Fox and he stumbled into living room; as the back of his legs hit the couch, he fell back onto it and pulled Fox down with him.

A wave of emotion crashed over him, unbelievable desire, mind-erasing lust and Eric didn’t try to stop it. Goddamn, he was wound tight and needed a release, right fucking now; he’d worry about consequences later. Fox ground down on him, straddling his lap and Eric groaned, their mouths devoured each other’s with bruising force, their tongues sliding against the other’s. They clawed at each other, rough animal noises escaping them. Eric wrapped a hand in Fox’s hair and yanked her head back, attacking her throat and she pushed violently at him, turning the tables and reversing the attack, the feel of her tongue and teeth against his neck sending jolts of fire through Eric’s body, his muscles trembling with anticipation and desire as he gave a strangled groan, his body shuddering against her.

Fox’s t-shirt tore as Eric ripped at it, dropping his head to her bare breasts with a snarl of lust. Fox cried out as he bit her, dragging his teeth savagely along one hardened nipple and started clawing at his jeans. Pulling the zipper down she stabbed her hand inside and grasped him roughly, Eric pulling his head back from breasts enough to hiss.

“Bitch!”

“Fuck you!” Fox snarled back, slapping him across the face then attacking his mouth again, her fingers digging into his cheeks. Turned on beyond all levels of sanity, rock hard, his cock weeping in anticipation Eric tore at Fox’s jeans, drawing blood on her legs as his nails caught her skin. Fox pulled his dick free, her grip savage and feeling fucking amazing at same time and Eric twisted on the couch, throwing Fox in front of him on her knees. Before she could move or twist out of his grip he slammed himself between her legs, throwing them both forward against the arm. Fox shrieked as he bottomed out, balls-deep inside her and tried to twist, no doubt to claw his eyes out, but Eric grabbed her hips and started thrusting violently, moving the whole couch with each snap of his hips.

“Fuck!” Eric hissed, teeth gritted as he fucked Fox with everything he had, all the rage and hate of the last two years, as he punished her with his cock, made her recognize just who the fuck she’d been provoking all this time. But Fox wasn’t afraid and she sure as hell wasn’t submitting, not to Eric Goddamn Coulter, she was fueling her own fire with pent-up fury and frustration and, as Eric threw himself against her, his balls slapping her with each vicious thrust, she twisted underneath him, supple as a cat and rolled them to the floor. Her nails drew blood as she landed on top of him, rocking her hips as she straddled him and pulling him even deeper inside her. Eric slammed his head back on the floor with a guttural growl, a full body tremor racing through him, his heart threatening to burst from his chest.

Fox swung at him and Eric caught her fist in his, caught her other fist with his other hand and their eyes bored into each other’s as they hate-fucked like wild animals, like savage beasts. Using Eric’s grip as leverage Fox rode him hard, lithe and sinuous, each rock of her hips matching each of his powerful, violent thrusts upwards. Snarling and snapping at each other like mating wolves Fox yanked her hands free from Eric’s grip and raked roughly again at his chest; hypersensitive already with mind-blowing hunger he bucked underneath her, roaring in mingled rage and lust. Eric grasped her hips bruising hard and pulled her down brutally against him with each thrust, skyrocketing their already overpowering emotion to even dizzier heights. She was close, they both were, trembling as they glared and writhed, straining against each other, and although their rage and hatred poured like sweat from them, their lust and sexual heat was nearly setting the air around them on fire. Love and hate, rage and lust, two sides of the same coin.

“Fuck you Eric!” Fox hissed as she arched above him, plunging into a screaming orgasm. Eric roared with her, head thrown back, pulled into his own violent release by the wild way she pulsed around him, milking his throbbing cock as he came hard deep inside her, wave after never-ending wave of ecstasy pouring over him and spilling into her. Shuddering Fox collapsed against Eric’s chest and his arms wrapped around her, both panting for breath. The intensity of their explosive sex was overwhelming, and they passed out tangled together on the floor.

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Fox stirred, aching in a thousand different places. For a long moment she had no idea where in the hell she was, but gradually she realized that her pillow was both warm and moving, no… breathing. Fox forced her eyes open, blinking rapidly, then it hit her, like a slap. Me and Eric. Wild images flashed in her mind’s eye, memories of the rough, animal hate sex they’d just had; her heart started to race in her chest, and her body went cold with realization. Lifting her head slightly she reeled in disbelief, she was laying on him, sprawled across his muscular body, their legs tangled together, Eric’s undeniably powerful arms wrapped tight around her. Blessedly, he was still asleep, relaxed and blissfully unaware of her impending freak-out. Fox squirmed, trying desperately to pull away from him before he woke up and shit got real. Her breath caught in her chest as Eric sighed, his arms flexing around her, pulling her tighter against him. A deep groan rumbled in his chest and Fox froze as he nuzzled his face into her hair.

This cannot be happening!!

Fox struggled harder, starting to panic. What the fuck!! Eric grumbled, thankfully still asleep, no doubt drifting in a sex coma that Fox would still be in herself had she not woken early and started losing her mind. NO, NO, NO!!

Breaking free Fox scrabbled away from Eric’s prone body, nearly hyperventilating with dread. Gaining her feet she scuttled to her room, barely stopping herself from slamming the door.

#eric coulter #jai courtney #divergent #eric coulter fanfiction #eric divergent fanfiction #fanfiction #eric and fox

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