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windlion · 3 years ago

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Malevolent podcast scream-along part 2, let's go!

Roll out of hospital bed, defeat a demon, stagger out into the morning streets with a complete lack of medical discharge-- yep this fits the genre

Ep title: "The Hill." Could it, perhaps, be a Silent Hill?

Let's just assume John-the-Passenger is providing some convenient CON boosts

And either John gave him control of the hand back or this impromptu jam session is a lot more impressive than it first seems

This hits me every time but you guys did not look into the currency value for the supposed time period and I'm just all ". . . well it's already an AU anyways"

(Otherwise SOMEONE lost a hat with like several years' wages in it and I hope those were smaller bills or Arthur is going to be one even-more-conspicuous MFer)

Speaking of: did you really just waltz into a store and ask for a big ass gun, ammo, flashlights, and a crowbar. Did you. Really.

WITH NO ID AND NO STORY

Could you *at least* have presented that in a less suspicious way!

Jon from TMA and Arthur solidarity in being absolute shit at telling lies

Actually they probably had f' all ID requirements in the time period

And then *everyone* is shady/eldritch as fuck! Woo!

You might mention the murder as a reason to be buying a gun?!

Writer nitpick: this is just personal opinion but I like my bullshit to feel grounded, so there's a solid baseline of reality vs Everything Else. . . but it could also be an entirely valid approach to have the narrator being increasingly unreliable and detached from reality because: Cthulhu.

OH delightful it's Creepy Old Lady, round two

*sounds of distant death* Arthur, "Time to be a good Samaritan and die horribly!"

This clearly is going to end well!

"Everyone is *wrong*" YOU DON'T SAY, JOHN

I am waiting for the partner to Come Back Wrong and for that to be why he's not being charged with murder yet because there was not actually a corpse - aside from the possibly-possessed janitor

Arthur: "This is not fast-forwarding fast enough for me!"

John: "You can only trust me, Arthur."

Time to go find your boat with a head in it!

Okay, fine, any boat can have a severed head in it, just give it time. I believe in you, boys

Just two bros. In a boat. Singing love tunes. Chilling 0 ft apart, because one's possessing the other.

John. Eldritch Buddy. You want to sound a little less like a sociopath there, dude

"This is fucked up, clearly we're in the right place."

*squints* ancient graveyard . . . in the US. . . there for centuries . . . why is it European. . .

did you just get suckered into being the new lighthouse keeper

Rude to go tearing up someone's floorboards!

*facepalm* you are not final girl material, Arthur

just got the job and quit again that quickly, for shame

I hope you're prepared for a long swim

Eldritch entity you swing wildly between anger management issues and "Deep breaths, try not to panic"

"Ohhhh Arthur" that's alarmingly sensual

"No part of you is lost to me" *side-eyes*

One thing that's noteworthy to me is that they're not comfortable with silence, that everything has to happen back-to-back, no pauses. Be more confident, linger uncomfortably in your

"I wonder if the voice he heard is this" OR JOHN YOU DIPSHIT

Time for the next cult hideout!

So the mansion was the Black Goat's, who's in residence here?

Oh that's who, howdy, ma'am

and then they find the homemade porn!

Is no one else concerned with the quantity of A names

. . . are you about to become a triple occupancy?

Tentacles! For everyone!

Good times when your eldritch beastie bestie has a mental time out

"Or we could kill her"

You actually took a surprisingly long time to get to the murder plan, you okay?

Uh, eldritch bestie, you should have raised your alarm earlier if you had concerns

Trading off murder sociopath duties, good times

My dude you are definitely not coming across as the most hinged of individuals

. . . this would be an interesting time to just panic and let Satan take the wheel now that Satan doesn't want to drive

exactly 0 people surprised who was responsible for the first death

"Oh this is going to end well" Glad we're on the same page again, bestie

"You must be this much bitch to get admittance" "WELL I GUESS WE'RE BOTH GOING AREN'T WE"

I will be more surprised if any of these people live than the obvious alternative

*looks up from filing nails* Oh, they're dead? Smeared across every surface in the room? You don't say

"Maybe someone's still alive" Do we need to go through this again? Not genre savvy, are we?

Eldritch bestie you are extremely inconsistent, which I suppose ties in well to insanity and gaslighting

"This is our life now" look at that, commitment!

Meat puppet does not enjoy the meaty aspect v much

. . . Why was it so heavy if it was only half?

Ewwwwwww. That will be all.

"did you see it" "DID YOU FORGET I AM BLIND"

Oh, we're doing this again are we

Eldritch bestie you better be paying your rent

Hand in unlovable hand~~~

No really, Lovecraft, what was with all the tentacles

Oh, someone else paid their rent!

I am somewhat amused that everything swears by Christianity aside from the favored F bombs

Right, so this is definitely someone else's playground, eldritch #. . .4?

"We lose guns more than anything else" XD

"It sounded like you" *waving lighter*

And that's Eldritch #5 on the horizon

Time for a screaming head or leviathan maggots?

Eeeeeeey old friend!

Why you lying, why you always be lying

. . . Okay I was worried that was going to be even worse than it was

Aw bestie with domestic daydreams

What's some B&E after a spot of murder?

John did you just make Arthur piss himself over an opossum

A mole-faced possum, you act like you haven't seen one before!

Why you gotta be running from snuffles, what did snuffles ever do to you but SCREEEEEEE

Oh it's you again! Great unhinged minds think alike

And then we're done with ep 10 and time to stop again~

#Wind is a ridiculous creature #Malevolent podcast #screamalong #any commentary is not to be taken as criticism so much as me peeling the veil back and poking at how things are constructed

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fruit-teeth · 2 years ago

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Chronicles of Love and War (chapter 21)

Angelica awoke as the sun was beginning to rise outside the window. She stretched a little, her thoughts still foggy from sleep, before turning to see Spy asleep next to her. She smiled, curling close to him and gently kissing the back of his neck. He moved slightly in his sleep, smiling faintly, and she wished she could take off his mask and see his real face. Yet, she wouldn’t do that - not without asking, of course. She’d seen his face many times, but she knew how much his identity meant to him.

“I love you,” she whispered to him, though he stayed asleep, stirring quietly again.

Right at that moment, the phone on the end table rang. Angelica glanced over, and she picked it up without thinking. “Hello?”

“Howdy, ma’am,” came Engineer’s voice. “Is Spy awake yet?”

“Hey!” Angelica greeted cheerfully. “Uh, he’s still asleep - what’s up?”

“Well, I just wanted to update him on what went down last night,” Engineer began. “We got my pa out of the hospital, spent the night at the motel, and now we’re getting breakfast at the gas station! We should be back real soon,”

Angelica sighed with relief. “Oh, good! I’m glad to hear that!”

Just then, Spy fully woke up, and he nudged Angelica. “Who is that?” he asked in a hushed tone.

“Oh,” Angelica glanced back at Spy, replying, “It’s Engie, you wanna talk to him?”

Spy nodded, sitting up as Angelica passed him the phone. “Good morning, laborer,” he greeted. “I hope all is well,”

While Dell was updating Spy on what had transpired the night prior, Angelica got up and gathered her things for the shower. She wasn’t trying to listen in on their conversation, but she couldn’t help it.

"Thank you for calling, Dell, and I will also let everyone know what you’ve told me," Spy said finally as the call came to a close. “And...please tell your father that I hope we don't have any bad blood as we work through this predicament."

Angelica turned to look at Spy, watching as he hung up the phone. “Hon?” she asked, tilting her head. “What’d you mean by ‘bad blood’?”

Spy got quiet for a moment, sitting up and, in a rare moment, removing his mask to fix his hair. “It’s rather complicated, but…let us just say I may or may not have stabbed his father at some point.”

Angelica’s face fell, though she tried not to be entranced by the sight of her maskless lover. “Oh, hon…now, why would you do that!?”

“He was on the opposing team,” Spy clarified. “I had to disguise myself as him, and as to not ruin the facade, I had to stab him. Yes, Dell was upset, but he understood why I did it. That’s how these things go in this business.”

Angelica lingered, staring down at Spy’s face. Finally, she replied, “So…was that why he was in the hospital?”

“I assume,” Spy sighed.

When Angelica said nothing and sucked her lips into her mouth, Spy took a step closer to her. “Darling, this is just what this business is. You understand - this was how we met in the first place, was it not?”

“I know,” Angelica clarified quickly. “Rene, hon, I’m not judging you for this job! You know that – but…God, its gotta be pretty awkward when someone who survived one of your attacks is just…showing up again. You don’t think he’s gonna wanna get back at you for this? I get there’s bigger fish to fry, but…”

Spy took her hands into his own, giving them a squeeze. “Speak my true name quietly,” he urged her. “But I can assure you…if he wishes to get back at me, I’ll be prepared for that. I have been around this type of block many times, so to speak.”

Angelica nodded, but she could not dispel the uneasiness she felt. She rooted into him, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head on his shoulder. After a moment, Spy reached up and placed his hand on her head, running his fingers through her black hair.

Following a brief period of silence, Angelica pulled away and cleared her throat. “Um - I’m gonna go take a shower. You coming?”

“In a moment, darling,” Spy clarified, opening up his closet to fetch his special towels. “I have some business to attend to.”

Angelica nodded understandingly, and she opened the door to the hallway to slip out. “All right - meet you in there, sweets.”

Spy waited in the room for a bit after she went to the shower, thinking about what had just happened. Even if it offended her strongly held values, she still understood his work and how essential it was to him. She was truly everything Spy had ever wanted in a lover, and he couldn’t help but smile over how grateful he was for her. He shook himself out of his daze, got his towels and specialty soaps, and walked to the shower room to meet her. It was early still, so they would not have to worry about anyone seeing them together in there.

Not long later, Lar-Nah got up as well and headed to the basement to check on Zelda. She carried her tranquilizer with her, as she was unsure of whether or not they would need to kill Zelda just yet. Lar-Nah's current plan was to knock Zelda out again as Helen hadn't yet issued the order to kill her.

Yet she observed something peculiar when she descended the stairs to the basement: she could hear Zelda, but Zelda appeared to be...laughing. Yes, Zelda was definitely laughing…but why?

Lar-Nah opened the basement door and stepped over the barrier to the small room that was Zelda’s prison. Zelda was seated in the middle of the space, bound to the chair, and sure enough, she was chuckling to herself.

“What’s so funny?” Lar-Nah asked her, closing the door behind her and popping open her case of tranquilizers. “Not that I care, I’m just curious about what you could possibly find so funny.”

Zelda lifted her head, her hair a wreck. “Oh, it’s nothing,” she cleared her throat, the side of her mouth quirked up into a small smile. “I’m just…I keep thinking about how you still have no idea where my sister is. She’s going to find me here, you know, and she will find all of you as well.”

"Well, she's going to be outnumbered," Lar-Nah said as she took out the tranquilizer syringe. “She doesn’t have a team, remember? And without your…magic, or whatever you call it, there’s not much she can do about that.”

Zelda hummed in the back of her throat, before letting out another giggle. She was grinning again, and it looked as though she was about to say something but stopped herself.

Lar-Nah paused, syringe still poised. “...what?”

“Nothing!” Zelda trilled, eerily chipper. “I was just thinking about the pact I made with your husband…”

After a brief hesitation, Lar-Nah snapped her wrist forward and drew Zelda in close to her. “What pact?” she demanded to know, her free hand still gripping the syringe. “I swear, if you don’t tell me right now, I can go right back upstairs and get the truth serum and–”

“And then I’ll you everything you need to know,” Zelda finished, breaking out into laughter again. “Well, I can tell you, but there won’t be much good you can do about it!”

When Demoman heard the basement stairwell door burst open, he was about to get a container of quick oats from a high shelf in the kitchen. He glanced up just in time to see Lar-Nah storming out in a rage.

Curious, he called out, “What happened?”

“I’m going to kill him,” she called back.

“Kill who?” Demoman shouted back. When she didn’t answer, he went back to making the oats, though he kept nervously glancing over his shoulder.

Sniper entered the room a little while later wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt that read, ‘I ate fried clams in New Orleans.’

“Good morning,” he greeted Demo, walking over to the coffee pot. “The coffee machine in my camper’s busted, gotta use this one.”

“Fine by me, lad,” Demo hummed in reply. “Oh, by the way – Lar-Nah is fuming, and she said she’s gonna kill someone. I think Zelda said something to her…”

Sniper paused, before setting the coffee pot down with a grunt. “Hell – I’ll go see what’s up. Hope it’s not too serious.”

He walked to where the lab was, and upon seeing that the door was ajar, he pushed it open. Lar-Nah stood by her desk, the glass covering of her nightshade plant lifted as she cut the leaves.

“Hey,” Sniper called out to her, getting her attention. “Everything okay?”

Lar-Nah lingered for a moment, staring at the nightshade leaves. Finally, she looked back at him. “I think we all need to have a meeting.”

“Why?” Sniper questioned, entering the room. “What happened?”

“It’s…” Lar-Nah trailed off, and she sighed. “I don’t even know if its a concern, honestly. But – the last time you were around Bill-Bel, did you notice any strange symbols carved in his skin?”

“...uh…” Sniper winced, trying to remember. “No? Honestly, I was too pissed off to notice, not to mention all I did was shatter that jar over his head. The jar with the magic inside, not one of the…other ones. Why?”

“Well,” Lar-Nah crossed her arms, turning all the way so she could face Sniper. "I had a strange encounter with Zelda just now, and she claimed she drew some kind of marking on him to keep him from disobeying her or running. She could be lying, or maybe she feels she has nothing to lose. I’m sure the truth serum would clear that up, but this feels too specific to be a lie."

Sniper stood there for a moment, taken aback. After a moment, he cleared his throat. “Uh…is it like, uh…a sex thing? Or–”

“No!” Lar-Nah snapped. “She didn't say that, I mean. She did, however, mention that she made a deal with Bill-Bel when she initially brought him here. The sigil was part of this deal, and he is effectively tied to her forever. I guess that's why he's the mayor of this ridiculous town - she gives him whatever he wants if he does what she wants. I knew he was stupid, but agreeing to something like this is a new type of stupid, especially for him.”

“Okay, okay,” Sniper put up his hand to stop her for a moment. “Slow down and tell me the important part. What exactly got you so riled up?”

"Part of the contract has a condition where, in the event that something should happen to her, he must finish what she's started," Lar-Nah stated after a brief pause.

Sniper took this in, before clarifying, “Does that mean…?”

“If we kill her, Bill-Bel will be the one to summon The Corrupt,” Lar-Nah confirmed. “I don't know whether he even knows we abducted her, but when Bea learns Zelda is missing, she'll let him know.”

“I get that, but,” Sniper scratched his head. “Does he even know how to…do that?”

“That’s what I can’t figure out,” Lar-Nah replied. "I guess Zelda must have left him with some type of instructions to follow if they have this agreement. I wouldn't be concerned if he was working alone because I know how much he dislikes following directions, but if Bea is present, this may go wrong if they can make it work.”

Sniper went quiet for a moment, taking this in. Finally, he said, “Should I call Helen?”

“Yeah,” Lar-Nah sighed. “Or, at the very least– let everyone else know. We should have a meeting about it, I think. Because…”

“Hey, it’s fine,” Sniper cut her off, trying his best to sound reassuring. “Look, I dunno what’s gonna happen, but we’ll deal with it. Got it?”

Lar-Nah nodded, looking back to her nightshade plant. Sniper started to leave, but he turned back to look at her. “Oh, and by the way: did you end up sedating Zelda?”

“Oh–” Lar-Nah shook her head quickly. “No, I forgot. I will go do that now…”

“All right, good,” Sniper turned back to head for the phone.

Zelda was still in the basement, sitting in the chair when Lar-Nah returned. She had the syringe with her again, still clutched in her hand, but she also had a case of the truth serum with her.

“All right, Zelda,” Lar-Nah announced. “I’m going to knock you out, but first, I’m going to see if you’re telling the tr–”

Before she could finish, she noticed that the restraints that held Zelda's feet to the chair were gone, but she didn't have time to respond. Zelda leaped up, and even though her wrists were still cuffed, she smashed into Lar-Nah at full speed, knocking her to the ground.

“You harpy!” Zelda screeched at the other woman, bringing her right knee up to pin Lar-Nah to the floor. “Beast! I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you all! If you harm my sister again, I'll paint this place red with your blood and the blood of everyone here! I would destroy this whole country for her, do you hear me!?”

“Get off of me, you brainless cunt!” Lar-Nah managed to say, though it was difficult with Zelda’s knee on her windpipe. She tried to get away from her, but Zelda ducked her head and rammed her forehead against her nose.

Lar-Nah let out a shout of pain, but thought quickly and shifted just enough so she could bite Zelda on the thigh. Zelda shouted in surprise as she sank her teeth into her and instinctively drew back, allowing Lar-Nah just enough time to slip out from under her and pin her down.

At that very moment, the sound of footsteps rushed down the basement steps, and Demoman ran in. “What happened!?” he exclaimed, before halting to look at what was going on. “Uh– what the…”

Lar-Nah took her sedative syringe and injected it into Zelda's neck, knocking her out. “She got her feet free and went after me!” Lar-Nah explained, though she sniffed, noticing that her nose had started bleeding. “Damn it– we need some better way of tying her down!”

Demoman stepped in, picking up the now-unconcious Zelda and dragging her back to the chair. “How long is that going to keep her down for?” he wanted to know, gesturing to the syringe.

“Four hours,” Lar-Nah replied, pulling a tissue from her pocket and hastily mopping at her nose. “Four hours, at most…”

“Good to know,” Demoman grunted, securing Zelda’s legs back to the chair. “We’re about to have a team meeting, Spy just said so.”

Lar-Nah sniffed again, nodding. “Okay…do we have everyone here yet?”

“No,” Demo shook his head. “But I think they’ll be back soon!” he approached Lar-Nah, noticing her nosebleed. “Oh, hell, did she break your nose?”

“I don’t think so,” Lar-Nah winced, noticing she got some blood on her fingers. “There’s a first aid kit upstairs, right?”

“Aye,” Demo replied, gesturing for her to follow him up the stairs. “There’s one in the kitchen!”

Upon arriving to the kitchen, the two were greeted by the sight of Sonya, who was up and about. She was rummaging through the fridge when she noticed Demo first. “Oh, hello,” she greeted him warmly. “I want to ask one of you – is my son call yet? Did he come back?”

“Not yet,” Demo replied, opening one of the cabinets to look for the first aid kit. "But don't worry, Misha's a good old lad, and I'm sure he'll be back soon..." somewhat irritated, he screwed up his mouth and opened the second cabinet. “Bloody– I could’ve sworn Medic put a first aid kit in here!”

“What is wrong?” Sonya asked, but it was then she noticed Lar-Nah standing there, her nose still bloody. Sonya gasped, closing the fridge and hurrying over to her. “Oh!”

“I’m fine, it’s not broken,” Lar-Nah tried to assure, but Sonya quickly pulled up a chair and had her sit down.

Just then, Spy’s voice came on over the intercom: “We’re having a team meeting! Please come down to the meeting room if you are available, we will begin within the next ten minutes.”

Demoman squinted at the speakers next to the ceiling. “Hell, I forgot we had those!” he shook himself, heading for the doorway. “I’ll get on in there– should I tell everyone you’ll be coming soon?” He glanced over at the two women, watching as Sonya took it upon herself to tend to Lar-Nah.

“Um– yes, I’ll be there soon,” Lar-Nah replied. As soon as Demo left for the meeting hall, Lar-Nah turned her attention back to Sonya. “Look, you don’t need to do this…”

“I want to help,” Sonya insisted. She stood up, getting a wash cloth and soaking it under warm water. Once that was done, she returned to Lar-Nah’s side, pressing the warm, damp cloth against her nose.

They sat in silence for a moment, before Lar-Nah spoke quietly. “Thank you.”

“My son tell me about you,” Sonya spoke up suddenly. “About who you are, and what you did.”

Lar-Nah could only murmur "...oh.” She drew her lips into her mouth, allowing Sonya to tilt her chin up as she swept the blood away.

Sonya hummed, carefully checking the bridge of the other woman’s nose to make sure it was indeed not broken. “Yes. But do not worry,” she pulled her hand away, setting the wash cloth down onto the table beside them. “I do not judge you. I am proud of you for choosing to live and to help him and this team. You should know this, if no one tells you it.”

There was a long pause. After a few seconds, Lar-Nah grasped Sonya’s large hand in her smaller one and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you,” was all she managed to say, trying to sound composed despite the emotions she felt welling up.

Sonya smiled at her, squeezing her hand back. She cleaned the last bit of blood from Lar-Nah’s face, before getting up. “Go to the meeting, now, they are very busy probably…”

Lar-Nah nodded, getting up and turning to leave. "Yes - thank you once more," she paused just before heading towards the meeting room, wiping her eyes covertly.

In the meeting room, a discussion was already beginning. Medic, Heavy, and Engineer were still gone, but Yana and Bronislava continued to fill in for Zhanna.

“So,” Spy took a long breath. “Let’s go over what we know so far: Bea is still out there, and there’s a possibility she and the pathetic fake mayor of this town are going to continue on with Zelda’s plan,”

Scout scoffed. “Yeah, well, he’s too stupid to even do anything! I guess the ol’ lady’s not, but–”

Spy cut him off. “He may be stupid, but he is also an influential member of this town. The people here don’t know who he really is – they think he’s their beloved mayor Bill Waters, not Bill-Bel. All they talk about is the new clock tower he's building, which will bring more jobs and some recognition to the community. To them, he’s their savior, and if we publicly go after him again, he could turn them against us,”

“They already attacked us once,” Demo pointed out. “And we all got away! We can do it again, right?”

“I don’t know…” Spy sighed. “Things seem very different here than they once were. However, it doesn't mean we won't pursue him and Bea. We only need to figure out where Bea is, though I doubt she's moved very far.”

Just then, a loud wheezing noise could be heard in the room. Confused, Spy glanced over, seeing Pyro coughing and wheezing loudly through their mask.

"Oh – Pyro, could you kindly step out for a moment?" Spy made a shooing motion with his hand to avoid looking disgusted by the noisy coughing.

Pyro got up and shuffled out of the room. Scout watched them go, a concerned look on his face, before he stood up as well. “I’m gonna make sure they’re okay,” he informed everyone, before following after his teammate.

The door closed, and Spy sighed. “All right…anyway, where were we?”

Soldier put up his hand. “I have an idea!”

Spy winced. “Urgh…all right, Soldier, what is it?”

Soldier proudly marched up to the front of the room, carrying a piece of paper in his hand. He slammed it down near the desk where Spy was standing, and then puffed out his chest proudly. “I found this outside!”

Spy raised an eyebrow, picking up the paper and skimming the writing. After a good few moments, his eyes widened, and he smiled. “Oh…I see…how interesting…”

“What? What is it?” Sniper wanted to know, curious.

“It would seem,” Spy began. “That there is an opening day party for the new clock tower today. First is a ribbon-cutting ceremony, and then after that is a party. According to this newsletter, Mayor Bill Waters will be attending both events.”

“Ohh!” Demoman exclaimed, eye going wide with excitement. “Are you suggesting we crash this party?”

“Yes,” Spy confirmed. “We are going to infiltrate this event – of course, it all must be done without being seen by the public. I will help with disguises, and we shall be off!”

As everyone began to prepare for the mission, the room quickly became vibrant with talk. Scout and Pyro soon returned to the room, though they were quickly filled in on what was going on. Just then, Miss Pauling stepped in, bag in hand as she looked around the room.

“What’s going on? I just got here,” she set the bag down onto one of the chairs. “Helen said she’s gonna be here later, what did you all decide to do?”

Spy walked up to her, putting the pamphlet into her hand. “We’ve decided to crash a party. Do not worry, I am already devising a plan as we speak. If it goes off with out a hitch, we can handle everything privately,”

Pauling smiled a little, putting the pamphlet into her bag. “Great! Well, I’ll help you out with that, if that’s okay. We’re gonna settle this once and for all!”

Meanwhile, in Teufort, things were just as busy. To start getting ready for the event, several local residents gathered around the clock tower. The town hall was also rather busy that day, and Bea had to weed around several people to get into the building.

“Excuse me,” she called out to the woman at the front desk, getting her attention. “I need to speak to Mayor Waters. Is he here?”

The woman nodded. “Yes, he’s in his office getting ready for the event today. Do you have an appointment?”

“Listen,” Bea leaned in close to the woman, trying to remain composed. “I need to talk to him, it’s very important!”

“Sorry,” the woman sighed, going back to her paperwork. “If you don’t have an appointment, you can’t see him.”

Bea stood there, her face twitching for a moment. Finally, she turned and walked into the adjacent bathroom and shut the door behind her. Moments later, she came running back out, exclaiming, “Hey, someone started a fire in the trash can in there!”

The woman jolted, leaping from her seat and grabbing the fire extinguisher from next to her desk. “Oh, god, not again!”

As the woman took time to put out the fire in the bathroom, Bea took the opportunity to sneak up the stairs. She quickly located the Mayor’s office and knocked on the door a few times. “Mr. Waters! Are you in?”

She got a garbled, barely audible reply. “Who’s there?”

“It’s me, just let me in!” Bea insisted. There was no response, and Bea raised her voice slightly. “Bill-Bel, I swear to God, if you don’t open this door I’m coming in there!”

“It’s locked,” came the reply, a little louder this time. “I’m busy, leave me alone!”

Suddenly, there was a loud clicking sound, and the door burst open. Bill-Bel’s snapped up from where he’d been laying it on the desk, just in time to see Bea standing there. Bea was holding a lockpick, and she looked furious.

“I told you, I’m busy!” Bill-Bel snapped at her, attempting to sound intimidating despite his lack of sleep.

“Yeah, well, this is important!” She slammed the door behind her, walking up to the desk and putting her hands on it. “Zelda is missing!”

Bill-Bel blinked slowly, taking this in. “…missing?”

“Yes, missing!” Bea snapped at him. “I last saw her in the herbal supply store, and when I returned, there were cops around, and the place had been wrecked! Those mercenaries must have got her, and I’m tired of this game of cat and mouse! You need to join me in finding my sister since you've been sitting here doing god-knows-what for the stupid people in this town all this time! Zelda brought you here and gave you everything so you would work for her, and you need to do that!”

There was a long pause. After a moment, Bill-Bel dropped his head back onto the desk and made a pathetic whining sound. “I can’t!”

“Get up— get the hell up!” Bea picked him up by the scruff of his jacket so she could look at him. “Why can’t you!?”

"Because I have to do it," Bill-Bel whispered, peering directly into her eyes in a way that made her uncomfortable. Bea let him drop back into the chair, taking a step back.

“Do what?” She asked, brow furrowing.

“Suppose she’s dead,” Bill-Bel began. “I have to…summon the…thing…”

Bea blinked a few times, letting this sink in. “You mean…The Corrupt? She’s not dead! Besides, I don’t trust you to summon something this powerful!”

“Well, then, what do you want me to do!?” Bill-Bel suddenly shouted at her. “I can’t think, I haven’t slept in…” he squinted, trying to think, before shaking his head. "I haven't slept in a long time, I have a speech to give soon and then a party to attend, what makes you think I have time to—?"

“Listen!” Bea snapped again, startling him back into his seat. “This is more important! You agreed to help my sister in exchange for this new life of yours, now fulfill your end of the bargain and help me!”

Bill-Bel said nothing for a long moment. Finally, he spoke: “My mother saw my future and she didn’t like what she saw.”

Bea stared at him for a moment, her anger dissipating for just a moment. “What am I saying?” She sighed finally, exasperated. “You’re not in any condition to help me, anyway, your brain is scrambled.” She reached into her bag, pulling out a pill bottle and shaking a few pills out. “Here — I have caffeine pills. Take a few of these and get through your day, and then at the end of the day..." She took out another bottle of pills and gave him some of those as well.“Take these sleeping pills so you’re not like this. When you wake up, come straight to me and we’ll find out where those bastards are keeping my sister! Got it?”

"Which one is the caffeine pill and which one is the sleeping tablet?" Bill-Bel asked, squinting at the pills.

Bea rolled her eyes, walking to a water cooler in the corner of the room and getting a cup of water ready. She handed him the water cup and pushed the caffeine pills towards him, saying, "Here, take the caffeine pills now and put the sleeping pills in your pocket for later."

The phone beside Bill-Bel rang as he swallowed the caffeine pills and then placed the sleeping pills in his coat pocket. He cleared his throat and picked up the receiver, answering, “Hello? Yes? Yes, I have my speech prepared, I’ll be right there. All right, thank you.”

He stood up, heading for the door. The phone suddenly rang again, forcing him to pause and sigh loudly. “I…can you get that? It might be my wife…I really need to go…”

Bea huffed, but complied. “Sure, whatever,” as soon as Bill-Bel was gone, she picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

“Greetings,” a strange voice replied. “Is Mr. Bill Waters available?”

“He just left, sorry,” Bea answered, preparing to hang up. “This is his…assistant. Can I take a message?”

“Of course,” the man agreed. "Tell him I'm here to look into some unusual events that an anonymous source reported to my agency,"

Bea paused. “…agency? Who is this?”

“You may call me Lazarus,” the man went on. “My agency was initially contacted regarding a situation in a Teufort park, and we were contacted again regarding an occurrence in a local herbal shop. We have reason to believe that the two are connected.”

Bea stopped, taking this in. After a moment, she responded, “Bill Waters is busy at a ceremony today, but I can meet you. I’ve been investigating this myself. What agency do you work for?”

“That isn’t important,” Lazarus assured her. “Just know that we deal with demons and paranormal happenings. May I ask what your name is?”

“Just call me Beatrice,” Bea said, though she hated using her actual name for anything. “And I think you and I might be looking for the same group of people…”

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angeltrapz · 4 years ago

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howdy 💙 chainshipping ask time: on days when they’re feelin bad, what do they do for the other person? also favorite date night activities? + th first moment post-bathroom where they each realized they’d fallen in love w th other?

hi!! 💜

ooh I think abt this a lot actually. I think th two of them have a tendency 2 bottle things up, so it kind of takes a lil bit fr them to realize tht Hey, Someone Wants To Make Sure I'm Okay and fr them 2 then get to a place where they share how they're rly doing rather than bein like "no everything's fine wdym :)" but once they Do get past tht n r able 2 be honest w each other, it's a lot better fr both of them + honestly its own form of healing.

a lot of th time when Adam's having a bad day, he's either nonverbal or responds w as short of an answer as possible, so th big thing Lawrence does fr him is just let him know he's there when/if he's ready 2 talk + there's no stress 2 tell him what's wrong right away. tht's smth tht's rly important to Adam, n smth he appreciates greatly. often times, along w tht, Adam tends 2 seek out physical contact - so like coming up behind Lawrence while he's cooking breakfast n wrapping his arms around him, holding his hand when they're walking together, sitting close enough so their knees/shoulders/hips brush + just leaning into Lawrence's side altogether, etc. so another thing they do is either cuddle up on th couch or in th bedroom n they watch a few movies together. sometimes Lawrence will read 2 him too. it's rly all abt proximity + lil actions tht in reality r a wordless way 2 say "I'm here, it's okay, we'll get thru this together." Lawrence is patient, doesn't rush him, n stays close by. fr Adam, tht is more than enough + means th world. n it eventually leads 2 him being more comfortable voicing how he feels more often!!

Lawrence's bad days r a lil harder to catch bc even tho he knows Adam's there, he still feels a pretty intense amount of guilt + doesn't often feel tht he has like. a right 2 complain? bc I think, fr a long time, he views himself as th one most responsible fr what happened in th bathroom n how they got there. it takes a while fr him to break out of tht mindset, but th main thing Adam reminds him of is he's still here. bc Lawrence spends a lot of time thinking like, "if I wasn't a bad person, Jigsaw wldn't have chosen me or put my family in danger, therefore it's my fault + I need 2 atone somehow." Adam is aware of this, n they've found tht th best solution is fr him 2 just b very blunt n ask "well was I a bad person? was I so horrible tht Jigsaw chose me based on tht n I deserved what happened next?" n of course Lawrence will immediately be like "no of course not??? nothing u cld've done cld warrant tht?" (kinda like th way u mentioned Adam comforts William) so Adam gets to respond w "tht applies 2 u too, u know. yr not a bad person. nothing you cld've done wld warrant smth like tht, either."

n Lawrence mentally bluescreens th first time he hears Adam say tht bc it's just like. He's Right. if he doesn't think Adam is a bad person + deserved wht happened, why did he? so tht's like th big thing Adam does fr Lawrence. he reassures him tht despite his brain's best efforts 2 convince him otherwise, he is a good person who Adam loves n tht might've made mistakes, but they didn't warrant being chained to a pipe in a fucking bathroom somewhere w his family in danger + being tasked 2 kill his now-bf, christ.

favourite date night activities!! I think they're mostly p lowkey fr th most part just bc of like, th unease of potentially being around A Lot Of Ppl, but every once in a while they'll dress up a lil bit n go somewhere nice fr dinner bc Lawrence is a hopeless romantic + he likes being able 2 do tht fr Adam sometimes. Adam thought it'd be like, wayyyy too stuffy + uncomfortable esp bc it's not smth he's used to, but honestly it's rly fun n they get to spend time together, so in th end it's all fine! plus there's never any pressure 2 like, go all out w dressing up or anything, so tht's nice too. honestly, if Adam wasn't so in love w Lawrence, th way he holds his hand over th table while they skim thru th menu + talk abt what sounds good might make him think he was somehow th main character of a romcom.

a lot of times, too, they frequent this local diner tht Adam used 2 go to fr breakfast all th time when he n Scott were teenagers bc it was relatively cheap, th food was good, + th staff was full of kind ppl. the lighting is lowkey n they usually have some sort of seasonal decorations around th place, n it's just somewhere Adam feels Safe, which of course leads 2 Lawrence feeling tht way abt it too. it's rly nice fr when they still want to go out, but don't rly want to put too much effort into it (tht's not to say th diner is low-quality tho!). they're there so often some of th servers know them by name + are friendly w them, so there's tht too!

their favourite, tho, is nights in where they order takeout or delivery so tht neither of them have 2 cook (Adam is getting better w it, tho Lawrence still cooks fr th majority of th time) n they can just relax. sometimes they lay a bunch of blankets on th floor n camp out there, sometimes they make a pillow fort bc why not, n sometimes they just grab their favourite blanket n curl up on th couch while watching random TV fr background noise or movies. Adam’s head always ends up on Lawrence’s shoulder at some point. Lawrence will have an arm around his shoulder. sometimes Adam will rest his legs across Lawrence’s lap. it’s just being close + enjoying some downtime tht they both rly appreciate.

as fr th first time they realized they were in love each other... in all honesty, fr Lawrence, it was pretty much th moment Adam finally woke up in th hospital n looked at him n said “you came back fr me.” (like yr text game Still Life is Exactly how I see it happening!!) however, th first time Lawrence rly became CONSCIOUS of tht feeling n was able 2 put a name to it was honestly so simple and yet so meaningful. it was Adam standing in his kitchen th morning after he’d spent th night bc he cldn’t get to sleep on his own, too worked up n on edge n afraid 2 be alone.

it’s Adam in only a faded n too-big t-shirt n boxers trying 2 figure out how to use Lawrence’s keurig. it’s th sunlight streaming in frm th window above th sink n framing Adam’s face n turning his eyes this bright honey-green when Lawrence catches them. he’s in th middle of washing the dishes bc he’d been meaning to since th night b4, watching as Adam moves around n learns th placement of everything, his presence so natural-feeling tht it’s hard fr Lawrence to even imagine tht he hasn’t always been there. and then Adam turns 2 look at him bc he can feel him staring, his hands curled around a mug of hot coffee, eyes still half-lidded w remnants of sleep n hair a wild unruly mess, and he smiles - tht is when Lawrence truly realizes tht he loves him. he cldn’t imagine his life w/ out Adam in it. he can hardly remember how it felt to live w/ out him. tht’s when he knows.

I think fr Adam, th moment he became truly aware of how much he loved Lawrence was actually during one of his bad days where he was stuck in th mental bathroom, unable get out of his own head fr much longer than a few minutes at a time. he had gone mostly nonverbal n found the energy needed 2 keep up a conversation was just not smth he had, but instead of Lawrence being irritated by tht fact, he was going out of his way 2 be like, “I know yr not doing well, n tht’s okay, if u want 2 talk to me I’m here but if u don’t I’ll still b here anyways.” n tht’s like smth tht’s so foreign to Adam, ppl being willing 2 understand his struggles w things like speech n eye contact if he’s distressed + who don’t try 2 force him to power thru it, so tht first time he’s just sitting there on th couch, leaning against Lawrence’s side w/ his legs tucked up underneath him n w his weighted blanket covering them both, watching Lawrence fill out th crossword in th daily newspaper n just kinda coasting tht line between being present n checking out, he’s just like. Huh. This Is Nice.

bc no one’s ever rly offered tht kind of accommodation 2 him? esp not his parents, which is part of wht I mentioned earlier abt his tendency to bottle things up. neither of them have 2 say anything; it’s just comfy, reassuring, sitting so close + sharing a space while maintaining a comfortable silence bc Adam doesn’t think he can explain yet. n he looks up at Lawrence’s face, tracing th heavy line of his furrowed brows as he concentrates hard abt whatever word it is he’s trying 2 figure out, th tip of his tongue peeking out btwn his lips as he squints, occasionally mouthing a word or two, n tht’s kind of when it hits him. it’s just kind of like an internal ah, I see. Lawrence doesn’t mind tht he’s like this. he doesn’t badger him fr answers or expect him 2 be th perfect image of good mental health n is perfectly content 2 just sit w/ him as he rides it out. tht’s when Adam really gets tht this is love.

tysm fr this ask I had so much fun w it <3

#saw #adam #lawrence #thank u!!!!#I laid down earlier 2 see if it wld help but it. hasn't so #it's been. a long weekend in several different ways jdkds #I spend a lot of time thinking abt th polycule but I've spend Just As Much if not more time thinking abt these 2 lmao #spent*#long post #again. tysm!!

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lannister-slings-and-arrows · 5 years ago

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Hey you! Ok how about Pedro’s characters and the first time they wink at you. ILY and thank you 🙈

Hey babes! I simultaneously love and hate you for this ask because jfc winking irl is so fucking skeezy but, as with a lot of things I previously thought I despised, when Pedro does it I get a little weak in the knees lol. So now I have an excuse to comb through every gif of him winking. You know. For research. For SCIENCE. (Under the cut, cause fucking HELL. This got loooooong.)

(Gif made by @djjarindin )

Whiskey- On your very first day as a Statesman you make the dubious acquaintance of Agent Jack “Whiskey” Daniels. You’re standing at the window of your new office, flipping one of your knives in the air idly, when a handsome man in tight blue jeans and a black Stetson saunters in without so much as a by your leave. His grin is lazy, charming, and you acknowledge, in the deepest recesses of your hind brain, incredibly enticing.

“Well howdy there, darling,” he greets, thumbs hooked in the front of his belt, drawing your gaze to- is that a flask on his belt buckle? His mustache twitches up on one side as he notices that your eyes landed exactly where he had intended.

“Now what’s a pretty little thing like you doing playing with those pig stickers? You could hurt yourself with knives like that.” He steps closer to you, one hand leaving his belt to brace against the window next to your head so he can lean further into your space.

“Probably the same thing you’re doing playing with those pistols you’ve got under your jacket or that lasso at your hip,” you reply coolly, not backing away from his intrusion into your space. His raises his and he huffs a laugh through his nose.

“Well touché, kitten.” He bends a little at his knees to catch your eyes better and suggests softly in a voice that 90% of you demands you to listen to, “How’s about you and I get outta here and I can give you a tour of the place? Maybe, show you the ropes?” And he then winks at you.

That last 10% of your willpower has something to say to his blatant attempt at getting into your pants.

You slap him.

Javier Peña- You had been warned by more than one person that feminism hadn’t really made its way to Columbia yet when you accepted the portion to field agent and transferred down to the DEA office in Bogota. It was 1990 however, and you kind of expected the Americans you worked with to at least be a little more on board with the times.

That was on you, men were men it seemed, American or Columbian.

The tall blond who introduced himself as Murphy seemed nice enough, he was friendly and a little distracted, and he sounded almost apologetic as he led you further into the office to meet the other member of your team.

“Well hello there, sugar,” a man a couple of inches shorter than Steve greeted you from where he had been leaning on a desk by the door. He stood up straight and sauntered- there was really no other word for how pants that tight made a man walk- closer to the two of you, a wide smile stretched his mustache over his handsome face and showed off the dimples in his cheeks.

Oh lord. One of those men.

“Javi this is-“ Murphy started, clearly trying to diffuse a potential situation but the man interrupted him, and his hand reached for yours, holding it a little longer than necessary.

“A girl too pretty for your married ass to be talking to, Steve.” He still had your hand in between his two large warm ones and you filed that information away for use at a later, much more solitary time. He had the audacity to wink at you and you sighed and rolled your eyes. Ah well.

“I’m your new partner.” Guess feminism still has some strides to make no matter what the nationality of idiot male.

Ezra- You had been stuck on this interminably brown moon for a week and you were going stir crazy. You and your still new partner had landed in a manner that was less than gentle or correct on this nameless rock, and not only was your landing gear bent at an angle a university mathematician would have trouble describing, Ezra couldn’t get the damn thing to start again.

You weren’t any sort of mechanic by nature, that was one of the things he brought to the table, so until Ezra managed to repair whatever was wrong with this hunk of junk the two of you were still paying off, you were stuck sitting on your hands doing nothing. You had no particular desire to go traipsing around this rock by yourself, protection was one of the other things the man added to your partnership, as you had learned early in your mining career that that generally did not end well for people like you.

So there you sat, bored, listening to the click and clank of Ezra’s tools as he did whatever it was that you needed to do to get an impulse engine working enough to take off and dock to an FTL vessel. And listening to Ezra’s constant talking.

He was currently telling you a rather long winded, even for him and that was saying something, story about how an old partner of his woke up every morning and sanitized the floor of their pod with antibac spray before he would let any of the other four men set foot on it.

“The gentleman in question was a rather odd duck, badger,” he called out to you from half way inside the pod. “Why, in all my years and in all my travels in the black, I must avow never having seen someone so resolved on keeping the extremities of his associates so unsullied. I never cognized if his time running the stars had finally fractured his wits and this was the inevitable concomitant of a life lived as we do, or if it was a tic peculiar to him for all of his life. Still and all, one advantage I did discover at the conclusion of that particular venture: the bottoms of my socks never have been cleaner.”

An unexpectedly loud guffaw punched its way out of your mouth and you dropped the flat rock you had been attempting to balance on a piece of the aforementioned broken landing equipment. Unfortunately, Ezra decided at that exact time to shimmy his way out from under your craft and instead of falling harmlessly back to the ground where you had found it, it bounced off of his rather distracting ass on its way down.

He stopped moving and you were about to apologize, you really hadn’t meant to basically throw a rock at him, no matter how much he annoyed you at times, when you heard his voice float up to you again, a little amused, and a little something else that you had had occasion to notice a few times before but had never thought to classify.

“Badger, did you just take your hand to my ass?” You felt your face flush and wondered if this planet’s atmosphere wasn’t as hospitable to humans as you had thought.

“What?!” You squeaked, voice cracking when it hit a pitch normally very much out of your range.”No! I just dropped a rock!” You heard him chuckle from your feet and refused to look at him as he shuffled all the way out from under to pod and stood to his full height in front of you. He chucked you under the chin and finally you looked up into his eyes.

“Because darling, I strongly advocate any physical contact that you might desire to have with any part of my body you so wish, at any time of your choosing,” he told you with a wink.

Catfish- You had moved to Texas to take up residence on the ranch your grandfather had left you, not out of any real desire to take up the cowboy life. You hated how hot it was, you hated how slowly everyone talked, you hated how big the entire goddamned state was, and if one more goddamned truck managed to take up three goddamned parking spaces at the grocery store one more time you were going to throw a temper tantrum that would make all their southern asses wish they had managed to secede.

That was how you had met Catfish (”No that isn’t my real name; no one but my mama calls me Francisco”). He had been the next asshole in a truck to take up more than what your space conscious Yankee ass had deemed his due.

“Listen ma’am-”

“Don’t you “ma’am” me, how old are you implying I look?!”

“Sorry, miss, if you’re gonna holler at me, could we step a little further away from the truck? I just got that baby to sleep, and if she wakes up starts cryin’ again, I think I’m gonna start too.”

After a meet cute like that, it was inevitable that the two of you would hit it off as well as you did, and so a year later saw you still in a state that you were convinced was trying to kill you (hurricanes, tornadoes, floods, Republicans, and rattlesnakes???), stretched out on Catfish’s beat up couch, more than a little drunk, and a lot happier than when you had left New York to come here.

Catfish set both new bottles of beer down on the coffee table in front of you and smiled down at you with that big grin that summoned both the dimples in his cheeks and made you feel like your heart was growing four sizes larger inside your chest. He took off his ever present beat up baseball cap and tossed it on your lap. His hair was simultaneously flattened and a mess and you were sure he couldn’t look more handsome in this moment if he had an army of Hollywood stylists attack him.

He reached down to he hem of his grey Henley and started to pull it up.

“Whoa there cowboy!” You exclaimed with a grin, sitting up and plopping his hat onto your head for safe keeping. “I didn’t realize I was getting a show when I came over here!” He stopped with his shirt half way off his torso and looked down at you with an eyebrow cocked.

“It’s hot as goddamned balls in here, baby, and I’m wearin’ two of these things. One of ‘em at least is comin’ off.” He pulled it off the rest of the way and straightened his first layer that had attempted to escape with its compatriot before reaching down and grabbing his hat off of your head and flopping onto the couch next to you.

“Hey Fish, how long do you think we have before the baby wakes up?” He shrugged, his head rolling on the back of the couch o face you.

“I dunno, darlin’, why do you ask?” You bit your lip and smiled up at him, playing with the fingers of the hand he had settled on your thigh.

“Oh, well, you know how watching you nearly get stuck in your shirts really does it for me.” He groaned and slapped your leg lightly as you laughed.

“I think we’ve got time for whatever you want baby. Helicopter pilots can go straight up pretty fast you know.” He told you with a wink that you were sure was supposed to be alluring.

Oberyn Martell- The first thing you consciously noticed about Dorne was that it was hot. This was a kind of inescapable heat that permeated your entire body and made you feel like you were cooking from the inside out. You had never before given much thought to what it would feel like to be put into an oven and roasted alive, but without a doubt this is was that feeling. When you went back home to White Harbor you weren’t ever going to complain about the cold ever again.

The second thing you noticed when you put into port in Sunspear- a city quite a bit smaller than most of the cities of the upper six kingdoms the Manderlys sent your father to trade with- was that no one seemed to be wearing a lot of clothes. Which you supposed made sense because you were positively dying in yours.

You quickly changed into a pair of your brother’s breeches and a loose shirt before practically running off the ship and into the dusty warrens of the Shadow City below the walls of the Martell’s castle, eager to stretch your legs after weeks at sea and eat something other than hard tac and salted meat and fish. You figured you had at least a few hours before you would be expected to accompany your father to the castle to haggle about prices for wood and iron and silks and citrus.

The air only got hotter the further from the sea breeze you walked, and as you meandered the twisting and winding bazaars all you could smell were foreign spices and perfumes. Your head was on a swivel trying to take in the sights and sounds of a market radically different from any you had seen before when you walked into a silk covered shoulder. The shoulder belonged to a man nearly a foot taller than you and you wouldn’t have stood a chance at remaining on your feet if two strong arms hadn’t shot out and wrapped around your waist, dragging you back from your rather embarrassing descent to the dusty street and into a warm solid chest.

“I normally have to put in at least some effort in order to sweep someone off their feet, it must be my lucky day that you seem to have decided to do all the hard work for me,” an amused, accented voice said from above you. You felt every word from where your ear was plastered to the bare skin of his chest, his yellow and orange robes belted loosely enough to leave most of his golden skin exposed. You felt your face flush as you shuffled your feet, trying to get them back under you in a way that would allow you to stand and not fall on your face. The man set you back from him gently and you finally looked up

Your savior was beautiful. There wasn’t any other word to describe a face with deep set, smiling eyes that were so deep a brown you really had to look to distinguish his pupils. His nose was curved and prominent, his jaw covered with the same black hair that was cropped closer to his head than you were used to seeing in the North. And his lips were too pretty for a man. They spread into a smile as his eyes met yours, dimples appearing in his cheeks and you were smiling back before you realized it.

“Now,” he said, eyes still laughing. “You are either the worst pick pocket I’ve ever encountered or clearly too taken with the sights around you to be trusted to walk unescorted.” You hoped he never stopped speaking. His voice was deep and rich and at the same time soft and musical and no one in the woods and wilds where you had grown up spoke like he did.

“Uh, yes,” you stuttered and felt your ears burn as he smiled wider, eyebrows in danger of disappearing into his hair. “I mean, no, I’m not a pick pocket! I just, sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going, my apologies.” You stuttered stepping further back from him, hoping maybe some more distance would restore your ability to not make an ass out of yourself in front of this handsome stranger. “Thanks for you know,” you featured vaguely at the ground.

“Oh, you’re very welcome for ‘you know’,” the man replied, somehow injecting a completely different meaning to your innocuous words than you had intended. Your face could have been used to light a campfire by now. You needed to get back and get changed before you did something truly stupid.

“Okay, well, um, sorry, again, for walking into you,” you said, backing away. “But uh, I’ve got to, uh, go...” You sort of waved and took off back the way you came, taking care not to run into any more handsome strangers.

You made it back to the ship in time for your father to lecture you about how dangerous it was to just run off in a “city full of wild Dornishmen! Don’t think that because you’re dressed like a man you’d be safe! That ‘sort of thing’ is common here, daughter!” while you dressed in clothes more suitable to both your station and a meeting with the ruling house of the kingdom.

It was somehow cooler within the sandstone walls of the castle, and you amused yourself on the walk up to the raised dais by listening to the different sounds your company’s boots made on the marble floor.

There was a woman sitting on a carved wooden seat and a tall dark haired man standing behind her, leaning indolently against her chair at the top of the steps you and your father stopped at. You listened to your father make the appropriate greetings, hoping that they could come to favorable terms of trade for items and goods they all wanted. And you felt someone staring at you. You looked up at the young woman in the chair as your father introduced you and you smiled and curtsied less gracefully than your mother would have liked. Your father turned his face to the man behind the chair and began to repeat the introduction when a familiar laughing voice interurrupted,

“Oh, I believe we’ve met already, haven’t we, little pick pocket?” Your eyes snapped up from the marble floor to lock onto those dancing brown eyes from earlier this morning. You felt your jaw drop and your face turn what you were sure was a very unattractive shade of crimson as Oberyn Martell, Prince of Dorne grinned and winked at you.

Din- You had been flying with the Mandalorian and his tiny green baby for about a month when you decided that hyperspace was boring and if you wanted any amusement you would have to take a page out of the little man’s book and make your own fun. You knew that stealing pieces of the ship and hiding them would not be as cute as when the baby did it, so that was out. You weren’t a tall person, but you were still bigger than the green terror so playing hide and seek was pretty close to useless. You were grasping at straws until suddenly it hit you like one of the utensils that the tiny monster liked to levitate around the cabin.

You were going to get Mando to laugh.

You had absolutely no idea how you were going to accomplish this, or even any idea at all what a near silent warrior monk that you were still not a hundred percent convinced wasn’t a droid would find funny, so you decided to just do what you did best; you opened your mouth and let the word vomit out.

You didn’t shut up. If you were awake and not actively hunting someone, you were talking. The baby seemed to enjoy the new amount of noise and animation, but thus far you had only gotten a few sighs and what you thought were exasperated glares from your adult companion. At least, you figured they were glares. His helmet turned to face you and frankly, you were beginning to even get on your own nerves, so he was almost definitely glaring at you under that beskar.

This went on for four days straight until one day the three of you were sitting in the cockpit, watching the stars zip by, and you decided to narrate yourself drinking a glass of water. You had just gotten to the swallowing part and were attempting to put into words what that felt like when he turned around to face you.

“If one more word comes out of your mouth I will cut into into small enough pieces that the baby won’t notice it’s a human that he is eating for dinner tonight.”

You choked. And you definitely spat water all over the visor of his helmet.

You coughed and stared at him, terrified, not sure if these were going to be your last few seconds as a breathing creature, but sure that if they were you at least had the image of the Mandalorian with water and spit sliding down the front of his helmet to console you.

All three of you sat in silence for at least a minute before he leaned forward very slowly. You leaned as far back as your seat would allow.

“That was a joke,” he told you, voice warm despite the crackle of his modulator. “You can’t see it, but I just winked.”

Screw making him mad. You were going to kill the Mandalorian.

Tovar- This was officially one of the worst ways that you could think of to die. You sure that if you were given a few more minutes, and a few less spears pointed in your face to distract you, you could surely come up with at least five different ways that were, in fact, worse, but right now, this seemed pretty awful and didn’t seem likely to get any better.

“I need you to trust me,” your companion murmured in your ear, his hand on your wrist, stopping you from drawing one of your long knives. You cut your eyes quickly to his normally laughing brown eyes and then back to the soldiers in front of you.

“That never works out well for me, Tovar,” you remind him in a quiet hiss. He moves his arm from his side to around your shoulders and draws you close and tight against his much taller body.

“Good day, gentlemen!” He calls jovially to the five armored men blocking their way on the road. You can hear the wide grin that must be plastered on his stupidly handsome face and you send up a fast prayer to God that he doesn’t manage to get you into worse trouble than you were in already. Or that at least William can manage to get you out of it again.

“Halt,” the spear man in the middle orders, and Tovar stops walking, forcing you to as well, still tucked into his side. His left hand strokes your arm casually (you note its not his preferred sword hand which gives you some hope that he might actually have a plan), and he leans a bit more of his weight on you than you think is really called for. Is he pretending-

“Why whatever are you fine men doing in the middle of the road? Don’t you know there’s a war on! Shouldn’t you be off fighting that fierce some mercenary army?” You want to stab him. His entire left side is open and unguarded mere inches away from your favorite knife, you could slide the blade in right there between his ribs, you could have the pleasure of puncturing his lung and watching him slowly suffocate. Maybe he would finally stop talking.

“No one is allowed past this point,” the spear man informed you, still glaring. “Who are you and what is your business here?” The other four soldiers inched closer and you stiffen.

“Don’t,” Tovar ordered you through his clenched teeth, smile still in place. “I can get us out of this, I just need you to play along.”

“If we get out of this I am going to personally castrate you,” you inform him, a clenched tooth smile of your own on your face.

“Anything to get your hands on my cock, eh?” You elbowed him in that unprotected side you had been eyeing before he tried to bargain with the guardians of the road.

“Oh but surely sir, you wouldn’t hinder a poor man trying to get home to his farm?”The soldier looked extremely skeptical.

“If you’re a farmer, I’m the King of England.” Tovar shrugged.

“Alright, so I’m not a farmer. This rather attractive filly is, however, only paid for for another hour, and I had meant to have my way with her at least twice before my time was up. Surely you can understand my need to make all haste now?”

Nope, not castration. Castration and then you were going to make him watch as you fed his balls to goats.

“Don’t bite me please,” was all the warning you received before Tovar looked down at you, winked, and kissed you, lips surprisingly soft, and incredibly distracting. Maybe the castration could wait for a few hours.

Max Phillips- When the higher ups bring in a handsome new manager to boost sales and productivity you aren’t entirely surprised that every employee gets called one by one into his office for a “chat”. He’s new, it tracks that he’d want to get to know everybody.

You are both anticipating and dreading your own 2:30 appointment with the new boss man, you’re positive that out of all your coworkers your performance has been the most consistently decent since you were hired two years ago, but who knows. This was a new unknown element. His goal might be to shake things up to keep people on their toes.

You hear a ‘come in’ after you knock firmly on his closed door three minutes earlier than your scheduled time, and you find him working at his computer, jacket off, a pout on his lips that were frankly too pretty to be on such a distinctively masculine face, and his shirt sleeves artfully rolled up.

He doesn’t glance at you as he waves at a chair in front of his desk. You sit as instructed, and try as you might, are unable to help staring at him as he finishes whatever it is that requires such attention. You take in the tiny tattoo on his left hand with a little surprise. And you try very hard to ignore the shift and play of the muscles of his forearms under his lightly tanned skin. This is your new boss get a grip, you scold yourself, tearing your gaze away to rest on the shelves behind his head.

He sits back with a sigh and his palms hit his desk.

“I am sorry about that. I honestly hate computers, they’re just so impersonal, don’t you think?” He asks with a winning smile, eyes and attention totally on you now. You return his grin with a small, polite twitch of your own lips and raise your eyebrows questioningly at him.

“Anyways, I just wanted to get to know everybody here, you know? Know the real person behind your employee file! Find out what makes you tick, what gets you excited!” You’re only half paying attention to his spiel, but he garners your full and complete concentration when as he utters the word “excited” and he grins salaciously and winks at you.

You’re a little taken aback. You know you should call HR. At the very least that was thoughtless and at the worst, utterly inappropriate.

You are unfortunately intrigued. You know you won’t be calling anyone about this.

Maxwell Lord- You’d been working for Lord Enterprises for about a year before you were moved up to the top floor. You liked to think you were good at your job, you were a quick typist and resourceful, and you were excited about the bump in pay that accompanied your new position.

After a week of following one of the other girls around and learning the ins and out of the executive offices, you were turned loose and given your own duties and assignments. The very first of those were to take a pile of files from the desk of the most senior of the secretaries and make sure it ended up in the possession of Maxwell Lord himself. You hadn’t heard much about the the big boss one way or another, so you squared your shoulders and after knocking firmly, opened the door and entered his office.

Lord was seated behind a dark wood desk that you thought was probably a bit bigger than strictly necessary. He was in his shirt sleeves, waistcoat stretched over a bit of middle aged spread that he nonetheless wore well. His hair was thick, blond, and immaculately styled, and he was talking animatedly on the phone, gesturing with his free hand and you could see his body vibrating slightly as he bounced his leg up and down quickly.

He was a handsome man, and a lot younger than you had expected him to be. And when he looked up at you as you walked further into his office and smiled brightly at you his attractiveness only increased. His eyes were a deep, dark brown and they shone when two dimples appeared in his cheeks with his grin.

You held up the stack of folders in your hand and raised your eyebrows in a question. He gestured to the desk in front of him and you moved closer to set them gently down in front of the man. You observed him check you out from your hair down to you shoes as you walked closer and were a little surprised when no chauvinistic comment popped out of his mouth. This might have been the 80’s, but you were a secretary and knew that women’s rights only meant that you could earn your own paycheck now.

You nodded at him as you set them down and he mouthed ‘thank you’ as he continued to listen to the droning voice you could now hear over the telephone.

And then he winked at you.

Maybe this job would turn up some opportunities for you after all.

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sadisticsmiles · 4 years ago

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Next Heartbeat Chapter 2 (Toshiki Kasumi Fanfic)

How It Began

Maruo Nakano was the stepfather of the quintuplets and he was a physician at his own hospital. He had connections to the heads of schools, politicians, along with other hospitals in Japan. One of his stepdaughters had gotten married quite recently to the son of an acquaintance from high school. Though oddly enough, the rest of quintuplets had tagged along for the married couple’s honeymoon trip. However, the same thing had happened for the high school celebration trip as well.

The rule that formed the quintuplets’ bond was to stick together, always. By that, it was simply a metaphor to stay through when things needed them to. Helping each other and whatnot is what any family would do.

While Maruo’s daughters and son-in-law were still on their trip, he had requested an appointment with Dean Matsunaga and Chief Kasumi at Seimei University Hospital in the morning.

“Maruo,” Dean Matsunaga greeted, “it’s been some time since your last visit! How was the wedding?”

Maruo indifferently replied as he took a seat. “It was wonderful, thank you. Everyone was happy and the honeymoon is still going on.”

Chief Kasumi said, “I’m sorry we couldn’t attend the wedding with all the emergency surgeries going on at Seimei.”

“It’s all right,” Maruo said. “I understand it’s a busy time for your staff.”

Dean Matsunaga asked, “By the way, are the rest of the girls on the trip? I mean honeymoons are for the newlyweds, but…”

Maruo nodded. “It’s just like the graduation trip they had five years ago.”

“I see,” Chief Kasumi noted. “All five quintuplets are together.”

“Hahaha!” Dean Matsunaga laughed. “I find their bond as quintuplets cute. Still, university studies and working different jobs are part of youth; they’re absolutely taxing to humans.”

Ignoring the dean’s casual comments, Chief Kasumi asked, “Anyhow, what brings you here so soon, Dr. Nakano?”

“It’s been nearly a year since you’ve accepted a female resident to the EICU, if I recall,” Maruo noted.

“Indeed it has,” Dean Matsunaga said. “She’s quite a promising young doctor and she learns well.”

“Dr. Takado has mentored her,” Chief Kasumi responded. “Is there a patient from your hospital who needs to be admitted to Seimei?”

Maruo put his hand up. “Actually no. Chief Kasumi, I recall the EICU is full of unique and popular individuals. Why don’t you all take some time off every once in a while? I’ll pay for your food expenses.”

Chief Kasumi and Dean Matsunaga’s eyes widened.

“That’s all…?” Chief Kasumi inquired.

“That’s all. You may tell whoever’s serving your food and drink bills that I’ll be paying.”

Maruo stood up and walked out the door.

A silence was in the dean’s office but it took a few seconds for Dean Matsunaga to smile brightly.

“Well!” he exclaimed. “Let’s go tell the rest of your team to eat out tonight, Kasumi!”

Chief Kasumi averted his gaze and with his perpetual frown on his face, he said. “…I don’t think we should celebrate so soon.”

Dean Matsunaga was baffled. “Huh? Why not?”

“Everyone in the EICU is doing their fair share of operations for the week.”

Dean Matsunaga frowned. “I thought we agreed to cut the workload for you all.”

“I don’t see why it’s a bad idea to keep them working. It’s important to save people while we still can.”

Dean Matsunaga frowned. “Hey, now don’t be a sourpuss. But if there’s nothing we can do about the surgeries that are scheduled, I guess we can wait for another time.”

A few days had passed by since the Nakano quintuplets had gone on the honeymoon trip for Fuutaro and Yotsuba (the fourth sister of the quintuplets). Ichika, the oldest one, had returned to her work as an actress, but she went overseas yet again for her acting career. Nino (the second oldest) and Miku (the middle daughter) ran a café together. Meanwhile, Itsuki (the youngest) was a teacher and she drove to school daily.

It was sometime in the evening when Nino and Miku had gotten a call for a reservation from Eiichi Matsunaga. He and the members of the EICU would eat over at the Nakano Café instead of the Pen, a bar which they frequently gathered together. It was rare to have a switch to where the doctors would dine at, but a change of pace was nice occasionally.

Soon, the door opened and six people entered the café.

“Howdy there, girls!” Matsunaga exclaimed. “How’ve you been?”

Miku Nakano bowed lightly. “We’re doing well. Anyway, Dean Matsunaga and everyone from the EICU, welcome. Please take a seat wherever you would all like to sit at.“

“Adorable as ever, Miku!” Dean Matsunaga complimented, taking a seat at the table in the middle with his colleagues. “And what about you, Nino?”

Nino Nakano looked at the group and said, “Honestly, you don’t change, Matsunaga. Miku and I just came back from a trip.”

“Kasumi and I’ve heard from Maruo,” Matsunaga said. “You girls really like to go on trips together.”

Toshiki Kasumi, chief of the EICU, added, “But more importantly, congratulations to Yotsuba for getting married.” Similar to Maruo Nakano, he was a stoic, yet young-looking guy.

Sentaro Kyogoku said, “Right, we weren’t able to attend the wedding with work going on. How was the wedding?”

Recalling how all five quintuplets had their final “quintuplet game” as a test for Fuutaro, the groom and the schoolmate who had been hired as their tutor five years ago, was a really sweet memory for Nino and Miku, as well for their sisters. The girls had put Fuutaro in a situation to guess which of them was the correct bride, but seeing how well their bond was with him, he nailed the bride-guessing game and could tell the quintuplets apart from one another.

Nino quickly responded, “I-I’ll get started on the food!” She then sped walked to the kitchen.

Miku glanced at Nino as the latter had disappeared before answering Sentaro’s question. “Ah.” She smiled. “The wedding was spectacular. Yotsuba was happy to make her dream as a bride come true.”

“Is Nino okay, though?” Sentaro asked.

Miku said, “She will be. It’s just a jog down memory lane for us, but let’s move on.” She took out a notepad and pen. “What drinks would you all like to order?”

“A vanilla soybean milk,” Toshiki said.

Sentaro smiled casually. “I’ll have the same as Kasumi.”

Kaede Ekuni, who was quite listless and introverted, said, “Just water for me.”

“Oolong tea,” Munechika Takado, a guy whose face seemed menacing compared to everyone else, said.

“Matcha soda!” Yuuko Benihime exclaimed while she raised her right hand up. She was the female doctor in the EICU and was also Munechika’s protégé. She was more of the eccentric and energetic type of person, but Dean Matsunaga hired her for her skills and (slightly) for the EICU’s sake. Yuuko was quite amusing, and she was similar to Yotsuba in several ways.

“You really love what Miku likes, Yuuko” said Tetsuya Hosho. “I’ll have a coconut juice.”

Matsunaga said, “I’ll have… whatever you recommend for me, Miku.”

Miku walked to the kitchen to prepare the group’s beverages.

Yuuko spoke up as the group watched Miku disappear from their sight. “Is Nino really going to be okay?”

Munechika had a blank expression on his face. “Says the one who ordered matcha soda.”

“It’s actually a good beverage despite the name,” Yuuko gleefully said. “Dr. Takado, if you’d stop ordering from your kids menu food from the Pen, it would be a nice change of pace.”

Munechika folded his arms. “We didn’t get to order any food yet.”

Kaede bluntly said, “Takado’s face is the most intimidating thing that keeps us from getting Nino and Miku to take food orders for us.”

Tetsuya laughed. “Ahaha, I see.” Then he had a more concerned expression on his face. “Though, I wonder what happened on the wedding day.”

Sentaro shrugged. “Who knows?”

Dean Matsunaga smiled thoughtfully. “Kasumi, do you think… it’s that?”

Knowing what Dean Matsunaga was referring to, Toshiki said, “It’s got to be.”

Everyone else but Munechika blinked.

“What’s that?” Yuuko asked as she placed a finger near her lips.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Munechika said. He grimaced at what Matsunaga and Kasumi were referring to.

“I see Dr. Takado knows something,” Tetsuya grinned.

“It’s typical for him to know things we don’t,” Kaede flatly replied.

Sentaro said, “I guess that’s how long he’s known the Nakano quintuplets.”

Yuuko frowned, her eyes still full of wonder. “Hmm? Will someone please explain what that is?”

Munechika flicked Yuuko on the forehead. “You don’t need to know.”

Toshiki blandly added, “Another time, Benihime.”

“Aww, come on!” Yuuko pouted. “I’m dying to know now that Dr. Takado and Kasumi have shut me down!”

“Will you guys be quiet already?!” a voice yelled.

Everyone jolted in their seats with shocked looks on their faces. Though, only Toshiki was devoid of any emotion, so he was totally calm. Nino was back; she stood behind the counter, holding onto a tray full of appetizers. She huffed lightly. As she walked toward the group’s table, one of her feet kicked the floor and she nearly tripped.

“Ah—” Nino’s eyes widened. She was still holding onto the tray.

Most of the doctors saw that she was about to drop the tray, but one of them got up from their seat and swiftly made their way to the rescue. Their hands caught onto the tray, pushing the dishes from lunging forward.

“…!” Nino’s eyes were wide once again as they locked onto the most beautiful light gray eyes any doctor ever had.

“Are you okay, Nino?” Toshiki asked.

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keelywolfe · 6 years ago

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FIC: Situation Normal (baon)

Summary: This wasn’t at all what Stretch expected from a simple knock at the door.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationships, Angst, Brotherly Bonding, Hurt/Comfort

Notes: Why let the Fell brothers have all the fun? The Swap bros deserve a chance.

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

The knock on the door wasn’t exactly ominous or anything. People did stop over to the house from time to time during the day, actual adults, even, not just the neighborhood kiddos. Undyne, Toriel, even Alphys sometimes although that was usually for her to run a test and boy, howdy, was Stretch loving a chance to play test subject in his own living room.

He suspected Edge and Alphys thought they were being kind by keeping him out of the lab, so he was gritting his teeth and bearing it, but damn, guys, no.

Anyway.

Stretch was perfectly capable of playing host to anyone who stopped by, thanks. Especially if there were some of Edge’s cookies to plate up for the latest gossip sesh; he might not have Red’s little network of spies, but Tori hopped up on coffee and sugar always had some tasty dirty laundry to share.

But having a brisk knock interrupt his nap wasn’t exactly putting him in the mood to pull out the cookie tray.

Stretch dragged himself upright with a yawn, kicking the blanket back towards the sofa. It clung stubbornly to one foot, resisting his attempts to get free until he shook his foot hard, almost falling as it finally let him loose.

The knock came again, harder, and Stretch groaned, scratching at his pelvis as he wandered to the door. It took him two tries to unlock it, because of course it was locked, Edge would sooner leave the house without his skull attached before he’d leave Stretch in an unlocked house. It clicked on the second attempt, the door swinging open to reveal his brother, beaming up at him with starry eye lights.

“bro?” Stretch said, sleepily confused. He scrubbed at his face with the back of his hand, trying to wake up enough to go through his mental calendar. It wasn’t their normal day to have lunch, they hadn’t made any plans, so what was…?

“Good morning!” Blue chirped crisply. He pushed past Stretch into the house, wiping his feet in the door rug.

“well, hey, come on in,” Stretch said dryly, biting back another yawn and closing the door after him.

“Thank you, I will. Glad to see you’re enjoying the lovely fall morning!” It was just this side of snarky and that made Stretch grin. Far too many people saw his brother as endlessly sweet, maybe even a little naïve. Stretch knew better, thanks, his bro could be a shit when he wanted and today looked like one of those days.

Blue stood with his hands perched on his hips, surveying the room. Probably taking in the crumpled blanket on the sofa, the half-full coffee cup thankfully set on a coaster. That first moment Blue came in always felt like one of Judgement, his brother looking at their home and deciding its worthiness.

It prickled a little, every time, but Stretch wasn’t sure how to quantify it. If he said something, Blue would probably say he was imagining things. He might not even be wrong, who the hell knew, but it was how Stretch felt, damn it.

Whatever he saw, Blue seemed to deem it worthy. He turned back to Stretch, his starry eyes lights sparkling and said with mock sternness, “I’m hurt, here I am, an uncle, and I haven’t met my chicken nieces.”

“haven’t you?” Stretch said, surprised. He wracked his memories, but yeah, that seemed possible. Any time he’d been sick or otherwise indisposed, Stretch asked Papyrus to take care of the ladies for him, a task he managed with great enthusiasm and probably volume. Not that he didn’t trust his bro, but when Stretch was in the hospital, Blue tended to be there. Any other time it was a habit to call Papyrus as a chicken-sitter was all. “guess you haven’t. sorry, bro, must be agony for you.”

“Terribly hurt,” Blue said solemnly. “Deep inside, except we don’t have any insides because we’re skeletons.”

Stretch snorted. “yeah, bro, and you can’t play an instrument in church cause you’ve got no organs. come on, i fed them earlier, they should be ready for some attention.”

His sweatshirt was a heavy one, but it was pretty chilly out despite the sunshine, so Stretch pulled a jacket out from the closet and slid it on.

“Papy, a hat!” Blue scolded.

“it’s not that cold, i’m fine, bro.” Except for a sudden itch for a cigarette. Stretch ignored it, stepping into his untied sneakers and leading his grumbling brother out the back door. He had a pack upstairs but smoking in front of Blue wasn’t going to be worth the lecture.

The chickens were out in the little fenced yard of their coop and they perked up eagerly at the sight of skeletons and possibility of scritches. They barely waited for him to open the gate, already gabbling. Stretch sat down right on the ground in the fallen leaves, ignoring the dampness creeping through his jeans and laughing as all three of them made a beeline to him.

“So you’re the ones who’ve been making the eggs Papy brings me.” Blue didn’t sit on the ground, crouching instead. His first hesitant stroke over Dumpling’s vibrant feathers firmed as she immediately saw potential for extra affection and turned his way. Blue laughed softly as Nugget jealously pushed in close, trying to impose herself between her flock mate and Blue’s hand. “They’re very friendly, aren’t they. When you first told me about them, I wondered what Edge was thinking, giving you chickens, but they seem like nice pets.”

“guess it is a little odd,” Stretch shrugged a little. Noodle was happy to have his complete attention and he patted her fondly. “but they work for us. not like i was getting a kitten anytime soon.”

Blue didn’t usually care for reminders of Stretch’s little issues, but to his surprise, his brother smiled, a touch sadly, “No, those go to Red, don’t they. I would have thought him more unlikely than you to take on a cat.”

“heh, i think cats suit him just fine.” Matching teeth, Stretch thought with a private shudder. “edge says he’s taking good care of the fuzzball.”

“I’m sure he does—“ before Stretch could parse his brother’s tone, Noodle decided she’d had enough of being ignored by the newcomer and hopped onto Blue’s knee. Her weight was enough to knock him off-balance and he yelped as he fell back into the leaves with Stretch, laughing as Noodle immediately clambered onto his chest to inspect him more thoroughly. Two more chickens joined her and Blue giggled as the three of them walked over him with their scaly little chicken feet.

“heh, looks like they like you.” Stretch reached over to take Nugget before she could settle on Blue’s skull as if it were a giant egg. She settled into his lap amicably enough, crooning blissfully as he smoothed her feathers. ”they like edge, too. try to hop all over him whenever he’s out here.”

Blue shooed the other two brats down enough for him to sit up. “And he allows that?”

Yeah, there was that tone again and this time Stretch frowned. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Not a thing.” As if his sudden breeziness was going to fool his own brother? “I’m only surprised, is all.”

Stretch sighed, rubbing a thumb beneath Nugget’s little chin. If he could thank his therapy for anything, it was he’d learned that trying to dance around a subject only worked if your partner was willing to boogie. And he definitely wasn’t, not about Edge. “you know, you and edge used to be good friends.”

He could see the surprise in his brother’s face, quickly masked as he said, “We’re still friends.”

��no offense, bro, but you sound as friendly as the bubonic plague. i mean it, you two used to hang out, cook together, do your stitch and bitch,” and when Blue opened his mouth to object, Stretch didn’t stop. “don’t try to tell me you both are busy or some shit. you used to be tight, so what happened?”

A kaleidoscope of emotion crossed his face and what it settled on was not one he easily recognized, not on his brother. “Our friendship was a little disrupted when he crushed my brother’s heart and yet somehow still managed to convince you to go back to him, anyway.”

Stretch could feel his own mouth dropping open because what the fuck? “okay, leaving aside that it was none of your business even then, that was years ago. we had a rocky start, yeah, but we’ve been together for a while and we’re married. why the fuck are you bringing that up for now, sans?” And it felt odd, calling his brother by his real name. Stretch couldn’t remember the last time he’d done it and he wondered how it felt for him to hear it. From the way his shoulders hunched, maybe nothing good. “mind telling me what’s going on, little brother?”

That was a deliberate goad. Blue seemed to forget sometimes that Stretch was the damn older brother and he’d managed pretty well when they were younger, back before…well. Before everything. Going through a bad patch didn’t mean he lost older bro privileges forever.

“Nothing is going on,” Blue said hurriedly. He swallowed, too hard, like the taste of it was bitter. “I’m sorry I brought it up, brother, you know very well I’m happy for you. I wouldn’t have stood up at your wedding if I wasn’t.”

Stretch was starting to wonder about that, but anything he might have said went winging out of his head at the first tear that fell from Blue’s socket, trailing down his cheekbone. He watched dumbly as it ran down his jaw, hanging from his chin in a translucent jewel of magic before falling to splash on Noodle, disappearing into her feathers.

Okay, fuck this. Stretch pushed Nugget off his lap, ignoring her outraged squawk, and grabbed his brother, hauling him into his lap despite the protests of the other two chickens. That turned the waterworks on full-force and Blue clung to him, sweatshirt fisted in both hands as he buried his face into Stretch’s chest and wailed like he hadn’t since he was a child.

His brother’s weight wasn’t exactly insubstantial, he was short but he was damn solid. Stretch didn’t give a shit, ignoring his protesting femurs and joints as he held his brother close, rocking him gently. He didn’t know what was wrong, but he knew how to handle this, even if it’d been years since he’d done it.

He hummed softly, as automatic as breathing, a wordless song of comfort that hadn’t changed since Blue, Sans, had been so much smaller, his starry eye lights eager, ready to join the guard and capture a Human.

Yeah, maybe that was a memory best forgotten.

Slowly Blue’s sobs eased into hiccoughs and all too soon he drew away, his face drenched in teary magic. Stretch wiped it away with his sleeve like he had when Blue was only a baby bones, drying his cheek bones. It sent a fresh wash of them down, Blue’s eye lights shrunken to dots as he looked up at Stretch.

“I miss you,” Blue blurted suddenly. He choked out another sob, trying to stifle the tears that kept falling. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t, but I do! I miss waking up and seeing you, I miss coming home and not having you there! It’s so selfish of me, I should be used to it by now, but I miss you, Papy!”

“sans…” Stretch whispered, shocked to his marrow. He didn’t even know what to say. Blue was cringing miserably, like he expected him to be mad, but how could he be? Blue wasn’t wrong, not at all; when he’d started dating Edge, they’d gone from mornings and nights together to not so much, and when he’d moved out, it was even less. They had lunch together once a week and Stretch stopped in more often now that Jeff was living there, but. He grabbed hold of his brother’s shoulders, hauling him in for a tight hug.“i’m so sorry, kiddo. i didn’t mean to abandon you like that.”

“You didn’t,” Blue said with some asperity and wasn’t that his bro all the way, trying to protect him, even from himself. He drew back and scrubbed at his face with a hanky he’d pulled from his inventory. “You didn’t, Papy. You were sad for so long and I suppose I got used to taking care of you. I told you I was being selfish and I am. You were finding yourself and I wanted to hold you back.”

“you didn’t, though.” Stretch scrubbed his knuckles lightly over Blue’s skull. His brother’s grin was watery, but he leaned into the touch.

“I hope I didn’t. I didn’t mean to spring this on you either, only—“ his sigh was deeply conflicted. “Jeff won’t be staying with me long, I think. He and Antwan seem to have gotten over whatever was troubling them and he’s so very happy. Like you were right before you moved in with Edge. I am happy for him, truly. I suppose I was only enjoying having someone living with me again.”

Well, that was a concoction of happy and shitty, wasn’t it, and not a problem Stretch really knew how to fix. Wasn’t like he could put out an ad for ‘Roommate wanted. Must allow mama bear-ing and be willing to eat pasta. No smokers.’

Blue stood up, dusting leaves away briskly. “It’s all right, brother, it’s my problem to deal with.” He grimaced, a trace of shame crossing his face. “Please don’t tell Edge what I said? It was unkind and he doesn’t deserve that.”

“tell you what, i’ll keep mum if you come over for dinner tonight.” Edge wouldn’t mind and if he did, well, Stretch would remind him of Red’s invite earlier that week. If he could do chili dogs with the gremlin, Edge could manage playing nice with Blue. Probably wouldn’t need to manage if they got to talking about recipes.

But Blue only looked unhappy at the offer. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad, Papy. I really shouldn’t have said anything.”

Yeah, that wasn’t gonna fly. “come over,” Stretch insisted, “bring andy and antwan. c’mon, mettaton has a new special tonight, right?” mettaton was no napstatton but he could see Blue wavering and he added the kicker, coaxingly, “i heard it’s a musical.”

That stitched it. Blue glanced down at Noodle, who was inspecting his shoelaces in hopes of finding a wormy snack, then said uncertainly, “If you think Edge won’t mind…?”

“he won’t,” Stretch said firmly. Or if he did, he wouldn’t say. Stretch wasn’t a bad host but Edge would put Martha Stewart to shame when he wanted.

His smile wasn’t quite the starry happiness that Stretch lived to see in him, but it was hella better than crying. “Okay, then, I will. Let me go home and clean up, and I’ll come back over tonight.”

“sounds good, bro.” Before Blue walked off, Stretch caught his arm, hauling him in for another tight hug. Blue returned it with equal ferocity, clinging for a long, long moment. Then he let go, offering a happier smile, and went out the gate to the front.

The second he was gone, Stretch took a shortcut upstairs, then right back down, cigarettes in hand. The tip wavered as he tried to light it and Stretch had to chase it with the lighter flames til it caught, breathing in a cloud of nicotine-laced smoke. He smoked the whole thing, then lit another before he texted Edge.

okay if my bro comes for dinner tonight?

The reply was almost immediate. Of course. I’ll text him and see if he’d like to bring an appetizer.

His soul constricted in his chest, so filled with love that it ached. Because Blue would be happier if he could contribute and Edge knew it, and wasn’t that Edge all the way? Even if his friendship with Blue got sort of derailed by their relationship, Edge never hesitated to be kind.

Fuck, but Stretch loved him so much.

But he only sent a thumbs up emoticon back along with a string of hearts before dropping his phone back into his pocket and focusing on the task at hand. Namely smoking half this pack before going in to scrub down so no one would be able to smell it.

He’d fucked up, fucked up bad, Stretch thought grimly. Made his brother feel abandoned level of fucked up, yeah, that was par for his course. Didn’t mean he couldn’t do better, damn it, and if he felt like shit about it, well, time for damage control.

He wasn’t stuck in a revolving door of resets anymore and his brother deserved to be happy, too. They’d figure it out, he was sure of it.

But after his third cigarette, he went ahead and sent a text to his therapist’s office to set up an extra appointment this week.

Somehow, he got the feeling he was gonna need a chance to talk.

-finis-

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

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is-that-mchanzo · 5 years ago

Text

Just Another McHanzo Fic 😬

Jesse ran his hands through his hair, sitting on the side of the bed and wondering what the hell he was doing. He looked down at where his arm should have been, grabbing the cigar and lighter with the other. He rested the cigar between his lips, biting gently on the end as he lit it, throwing down the lighter to show his annoyance. He was still mad, still filled with resentment so much so that he had nightmares about losing the limb. He supposed it wasn't any one person's fault but he was just so mad about it and he never quite wanted to admit to it because, typically, he was smiling, happy, maybe borderline on childish.He dressed up like he was in the middle of New Mexico and his profession was farmer or ranch hand for fuck sakes, he had to ask himself when the hell he was going to grow up, Jesse already knew the answer, never.

There was too much about his childhood that was good that he couldn't let go of. It didn't start out so good but when he was fifteen he was adopted and Gabriel had been his hero. He had been his strength. Gabriel allowed him to just be himself and he wanted to be a cowboy, he wanted to save the world from injustice. Gabe had always supported that, he encouraged him to be whatever he wanted to be and without him, things had never been okay. He had nightmares all the time and losing his arm had only made it exasperated because Gabriel hadn't been there to smooth over his hair, hold him and tell him everything was going to be alright. He didn't care how old he was, he still needed the man that he had considered to be his father.

He sat on the edge of the bed in the darkness, the only light had haloed in from the moonlight glowing between the slats of the blinds across the large sliding doors that led out onto the terrace and the glowing red of his burning cigar each time he inhaled. He should have been able to get over it, through it. But it had been so hard and it had left him with this sick feeling of an unfilled void. He couldn't imagine a worse pain then losing someone he loved, with everything he had.

He placed the burning cigar in the glass ashtray and grabbed his phone. He couldn't lock it anymore because it was almost impossible to do so with one arm. Jesse looked through his phone book, resting on a name, he was hesitant to press it. It was late or rather, early but he'd said if he needed someone he was there, Jesse thought about it for a few more moments before calling the number and putting it on speaker.

"Hello?"

Jesse frowned for a moment, the voice wasn't familiar to him but this was the right number, he had called it before.

Genji?"

He questioned, maybe he just had a cold or something? But it really didn't sound like his friend and he doubted that he would have given his phone to anyone, unless he had lost it?

"No, he left his phone behind. I am his brother. Hanzo"

He had heard Genji talk about his older brother a couple of times but he didn't know anything about him, only that he was older and his name was Hanzo, he was talking to a stranger and he wouldn't have been surprised, nor held it against him, if Hanzo hung up the call.

"Oh, howdy. Nice to meet you. He's told me only a little about you, are you just visiting the States?"

"I recently moved here. I am staying with Genji until I get situated. Your name came up on his phone as a symbol of a cow and a man. What does that mean?"

Jesse chuckled a little. Genji was even more cheerful and childish then he was, that was why they got along so well. Genji calling him cowman wasn't out of the ordinary, it was a nick name that he started calling him and it had just stuck.

"He calls me cowman 'cause I dress like a cowboy. The name's actually Jesse McCree. Most call McCree, actually I don't think anyone but my old man called me Jesse"

"Old man? Your father?"

He nodded his head as if Hanzo could see him before answering him, he supposed it was one of the reasons that he called.

"Was, he died 'bout six months ago. He died while I was in hospital, I didn't get to say goodbye to him or nothin'"

He wasn't sure why he was divulging all this to a stranger. Jesse felt weird but yet it was soothing, it didn't matter that Genji didn't answer, it really did feel good to talk to someone and he was sure if he was really bothering Hanzo, he would have ended the call.

"I am sorry about your father. What happened for you to be in hospital?"

"I had my arm ripped off at work. It got caught in a machine"

He wondered if he had said too much. There was nothing charming about telling someone that he had his arm ripped off especially someone he didn't know. Hanzo had a very soothing voice though, it was gravelly and almost monotone but it made him feel comfortable.

"I had my legs amputated so I know how it feels. I think I had nightmares for a year because of it"

"What happened to your legs, darlin'?"

He grabbed his cigar that had been slowly burning and puffed on it a few times. Hanzo told him that he had them cut off as a threat to their father because he worked in some underground things, illegal weapon and drug selling and trading. His factory accident seemed so vanilla compared to it.

Before he knew it, the sun was starting to rise. They had been talking for at least five hours. They just talked, about everything. Hanzo was only a year older then himself, the brothers were raised in a strict environment and he was an advanced archer. Hanzo had a full sleeve tattoo of a dragon, he loved dragons and he had escaped his duties in Japan to live in the States. He didn't tell his father, Shojiro, he just left. He wasn't sure he was entirely safe, if he really wanted to find his eldest son, a way would be found. It sounded terrifying.

He could hear Hanzo yawn on the other end. Jesse supposed it was time to go but he didn't want to, talking to Hanzo for as long as he did, it really felt like he'd not only made a friend but someone that understood him. They talked about what happen to their bodies and minds after they lost their limbs and he found a kindred spirit in Hanzo.

"Oh, damn. I'm sorry darlin' I kept you up all night. Would it be alright if I called you again some time?"

"I would like that Jesse. I will text you my number"

No one had called him Jesse and he wasn't used to it but when Hanzo said his name, it was nice, it didn't make him adverse to it at all. It was sweet and it made it sort of special because he was either McCree or Cowboy/man to most.

"Good night Hanzo"

"Good night Jesse"

The call was ended and Jesse found himself breathing again, though he didn't even know that he had been holding it in. There was no way that anything that happened could be described in words, there was just something about Hanzo that made everything clear, he had been stuck in the continuous loop of depression, anger and grief and he didn't really stop to think that it happened for a reason.

Maybe he had to lose his arm to connect with Hanzo on a personal level and maybe Gabriel dying was to get him to appreciate life was short and he had to make the most of it instead of drinking himself to sleep every night and wishing Gabe came back, when he knew it wasn't going to do anything.

He took a nap, waking up at ten and decided to clean out Gabriel's room. They had always lived together and it didn't feel weird that it had been the arrangement as he got older. It was just the way they did it and it worked for them both. After speaking to Hanzo, he knew that he needed to do something about it and he knew that there were things like photographs and stuff that could have a place. in other parts of the home.

Jesse took his phone with him as he made his way across the hall, opening the door to the musty bedroom. Everything inside had a layer of dust on it, and with none of the windows opened it looked like something that would be in a horror movie. Jesse opened the windows that had cobwebs on them and let some air and light into the room.

He had messaged Hanzo before he fell asleep but no doubt he had worn his new friend out to the point where it was possible he was still sleeping. Hanzo had been easy to talk to, he was just comfortable to Jesse, he wanted to talk to him again, maybe it was too soon though and he already talked his ear off, maybe he should have asked to have a drink with him or something, got to know him in person? He didn't want to overwhelm him, he decided. Jesse wasn't the easiest guy to get used to and he didn't want to drive Hanzo away already.

He cleaned out the room and though Jesse had been trying to accept the loss, he found himself crying, touching clothes and possessions of his dead parent. He wanted to get rid of it all albeit a few personal things. Jesse felt bad for that thought but the melancholy was too much and he didn't want to feel it anymore, he wanted to be okay again. He didn't intend on Hanzo being the one that became his support, Jesse was sure he was being a burden but they spoke for hours and Hanzo never said anything about wanting to go and he was half the conversation, unless he was too polite to say any thing different.

Hanzo seemed like an honest man, if he wasn't interested in their conversation earlier that morning he was sure that his new friend would have said so, he definitely seemed like the blunt, to the point kind of guy, something Jesse appreciated and found attractive.

His phone made him jump when it rang, he wasn't expecting it but when he saw the name on the screen, he smiled. He was trying his best not to sound like he had just been crying before he answered it, placing it on speaker.

"Hey there, darlin' I'm glad you called, everythin' alright?"

He tried to make sure his voice didn't shake at all. Jesse wasn't sure that it was working but he might have got away with it.

"Yes. Everything is alright. I was thinking about something you said last night. You said that you had never fallen in love before, even to this day. Is that true?"

It was accurate that he had told Hanzo that and the statement itself was true. Jesse hadn't experienced being in love. Sex was one thing but love was another and the two didn't necessarily coinside with one another. He had sex but there was nothing about it that was romantic or loving, he didn't feel that way about anyone he slept with and Jesse wasn't discriminate when it came to sex, if they were sober, of age and consenting then that had been the criteria. He didn't have a lot of sex but he had enough of it to know that there was a huge different between physical and emotional intimacy.

"I'm not exactly anyone's type Han' I ain't classy or even well dressed and I've been told I look a bit like a hobo. I ain't got money or family. I don't have much to offer someone else. I was serious"

"You have plenty to offer. It's not pleasant that you've never been in love, but it is comforting that I'm not the only one"

Jesse smiled, it was comforting to him that he had the same effect on Hanzo as Hanzo had on him. Having someone that meant they could be less alone, someone they could talk to without concern or worry that they'd say something out of place.

"I'm glad I can be the one to make you feel less alone in the world"

It made his heart less heavy. It was this tender moment that he could share with someone that was on the same level as he was. That had the same knowledge to things like losing a limb and not finding someone to share life, in all it's good and bad, with.

"Your voice, it sounds sad, Jesse. What's wrong?"

Fuck, he wasn't hiding it so well, but after last night there was no one else that knew Jesse like Hanzo did. He was friends with Genji but they didn't talk like he did with Hanzo. He wasn't sure if he should confess why he'd been upset or deny it, but when they did talk, he was safe and honest, Hanzo just made him feel confident he could talk about everything.

"I cleaned out Gabriel's room today. It's nothin' darlin', nothin' I can't handle, was just sad, that's all. I hope you got some sleep after I kept you up all night?"

He changed the subject to something else instead of denying that anything was wrong in the first place.

"Jesse. It's going to be alright. You are so resilient and you're a good man, and I enjoyed our night together, getting to know you"

It made Jesse's heart swell. Hanzo liked getting to know him, and it was mutual. He had a real friend in this man that he had never met. They got along well and conversation flowed between them so smoothly. They didn't have to force anything or have awkward silences. They just...worked. Jesse looked at the empty room he had cleared out, maybe this could be a win-win situation.

"I enjoyed gettin' to know you too darlin' say Hanzo..ah..I was just thinkin' you said you're stayin' with Genji 'til you get situated, I dunno how desperate you are to get out of there but I mean..I got a spare room here and it be mighty fine to be able to get you to know you more. Don't 'spose you'd consider comin' to live with me?"

There was silence for a moment, he could hear the soft breathing. Maybe this was too soon? Maybe he shouldn't have just jumped to the idea that they could live together? Jesse wanted to apologize, as he opened his mouth, Hanzo spoke up.

"You would do that? Allow me to come live with you?"

"Of course. We get along well and you need somewhere to live. Gabe's room would just go unused and...well..."

Jesse found himself blushing and rubbed the back of his neck. He was slightly flustered. He didn't know why it made him nervous to say it but it did.

"It'd be my pleasure to have you here, I mean I'd like it, very much, if you'd come live with me"

"Thank you Jesse. I appreciate your offer"

They arranged for Hanzo to move in that Saturday. He insisted that he didn't need help and that he and Genji would be able to handle it, Jesse didn't argue, he knew he'd be little help with only one arm but he could at least help him when he got there.

He had no idea what Hanzo even looked like. He assumed he'd look similar to Genji. He knew that having Hanzo there was going to help. He needed a friend and the eldest Shimada was his perfect companion and maybe he could be for him too.

Between Wednesday and Friday, he and Hanzo had continued to call and text. They were getting closer, the more they talked, the more intimate their conversation was becoming. They started to discuss things like sex and love. Though neither of them had been in love they spoke about how they saw it, how they felt about the idea. Things became very personal for them and Jesse and Hanzo were bonding and for the cowboy, he was starting to feel a few things that he wasn't sure he'd experienced before.

Firstly, he had a best friend that wasn't his father. He had never had a best friend before but Hanzo was definitely it. Secondly he was feeling protective over and attached to Hanzo, he wanted to keep him safe from his father and any associates that may want to harm him and thirdly, Jesse was lusting after him, they spoke about sex and there had been times where it could have led to them having phone sex. He wasn't sure what it was but it happened so naturally. Jesse didn't know what that exactly meant but it was apparent that he wasn't the only one feeling something from this.

When Jesse heard the car in his drive way, he felt nervous. He neatened his flannel and brushed drown his jeans, making sure his boots had a shine and the Stetson was straight on his head. He didn't know if this was going to be impressive by any means or if it was something Hanzo was going to like but this was Jesse, this was who he was. He was nervous, he wasn't sure what Hanzo was going to be like with him in person. Would he completely ignore what they had been doing the past few days?

Jesse exhaled and inhaled deeply, he couldn't believe he was actually meeting him. It was surreal and exciting but nerve wrecking. He didn't know if they were going to continue what they were doing or if now that they were in person, it would mean they were just friends and it would stay that way. They had the same appreciation for love, it was important for them and something sacred, that was meaningful and maybe it wouldn't be love between them, it was all up in the air.

He stepped outside, he looked to the silver blue car that was parked there. The trunk was opened up and boxes were being placed on the ground. Jesse moved down towards them and the trunk was being closed. His breath was taken from his lungs. Fuck.

"Goddamn"

He was staring at beautiful dark brown eyes and his own caramel ones were given the same attention. Hanzo was gorgeous, Jesse was speechless, he was sure he looked stupid just standing there, gawking like an idiot but he'd never seen someone so damn beautiful. That silken raven hair that was tied back in a ponytail. His skin was flawless and smooth, very few wrinkles showing, his eyes were serious but it was like drowning in a pool of molten chocolate and what a way that would be to go.

Jesse swallowed hard and low in his throat. He wasn't even thinking, he wasn't so sure he was even breathing, he was enamored.

"Careful cowman you'll get a boner"

Genji's voice broke his trance and he was properly introducing himself to Hanzo by shaking his hand and then doing the best he could to help take the boxes inside. It wasn't easy but he never said no to a challenge.

He hadn't been able to take his eyes off Hanzo and after only six small boxes, Genji was leaving and they were by themselves. Jesse wasn't sure what to say, since the first time they spoke, he was actually speechless.

"Lemme show you around darlin'"

That was a good start, he thought to himself. He led Hanzo through the house, taking him to every room, pointing out anything that didn't quite work to perfection. He took him through the back door to the large block of land that had a couple of horses on it. He clicked his tongue against his teeth, encouraging both the blazer and mustang to come over and say hello. They greeted him warmly.

"This is Billy and Patrick. Guys this is my very good friend Hanzo"

He could see the archer was a little nervous. Both the boys were harmless. Jesse gently took the smaller males wrist.

"Make sure your hand is nice a flat and what you want to do is run it over the length of his nose, just below the eye and just before his nostrils"

He was guiding Hanzo's hand down the path he said, as soon as he saw the archer was comfortable he released him and allowed him to get acquainted with both his pets. He just watched, mesmerized by him and how quickly he became friendly with the horses, and when he saw his friend smile, he felt like he had been struck in the heart with an arrow. He was...nothing short of perfect.

"They are wonderful, Jesse"

As soon as they were finished greeting the four legged members of the family, they were going back inside. It was getting late and he needed to think about dinner. He felt like he should do something nice. Jesse was so damn nervous, like this was all part of a date only the question was where he stood after it.

Hanzo was looking at all the photos on the wall and just taking his time getting acquainted with the space. Jesse couldn't help but watch him, his eyes drawing down to his legs. They were covered with slacks and he wore shoes but he knew, from their conversation that Hanzo had state of the art prosthetic legs. His arm, there was just a stump there, he might have felt jealous if he were a different man but he was more glad that Hanzo had that.

"Hey, darlin' do you think it be alright if I took you to dinner and we could do talk?"

Hanzo turned to face him, he smiled but so subtly that Jesse only barely saw that was what he was doing.

"Yes, I would like that, thank you"

He already knew what kind of things Hanzo liked. When they talked it had been about everything. Jesse was the perfect gentleman, holding open doors, pulling out a chair for his date and pushing it back in again. They were at a Japanese restaurant and he was out of his element here, he didn't know much about Japanese culture but he wanted to learn, he wanted to connect with Hanzo more.

"We can go elsewhere if you are uncomfortable here, Jesse. I don't want you to feel like you have to do this"

Hanzo distracted his eyes from looking at the decore. It was elegant that was for sure, they had a lot of simplicity in their artwork but it was somewhat breath taking and he did want to learn more about Japan and the difference about their two cultures, he was interested in Hanzo and he knew how infatuated he was becoming.

Jesse was holding back. Maybe that made it awkward but he wasn't about to go ahead and just fall in love with Hanzo and it not be reciprocated or it be something that was one sided. He had heard about unrequited love before and that was something he wanted nothing to do with. It sounded like pure torture and he couldn't do that to himself.

"No, Hanny Bee. It's alright, 'sides it be nice to learn 'bout Japan. Ah...I guess I brought you out though 'cause... Well...'cause you and I...we..I mean we're.."

Fuck. He couldn't even get his words out. He was too nervous. He didn't know what the hell Hanzo was going to say, especially with him fumbling his words and not making any clear sense what so ever.

"We are close now and you aren't sure how I think or feel about you because I haven't said anything or expressed my emotions?"

Hanzo hit the nail on the head with that one. It must have meant he had been thinking about it too.

"Yeah, that's 'bout it darlin'"

"I like you very much, Jesse"

He was waiting to hear a but. He waited a few seconds but there was no but, nothing bad, nothing to tell him that they could only remain friends. His heart was pounding out of control.

"The thing is Hanzo. I think I'm fallin' in love with you. When I looked at you the first time, I ain't ever felt anythin' like that and even talkin' to you. I'm worried that I'm gonna feel this way and you ain't, I guess it will just stop one day if it's one sided. Guess I'm hopin' that maybe you see somethin' more happenin' between us?"

"Jesse...I"

He didn't want to interrupt Hanzo but he didn't want to put him on the spot and he didn't want him to feel like he had to say anything or force himself to feel anything that he didn't actually feel. It wasn't something that he could just stop himself from feeling but if it was unrequited he did not want to guilt Hanzo into anything.

"Hanzo, if you don't feel anythin' for me that's alright darlin'. I don't want you to pretend or feel forced. I just needed to lay it on the line. I've been honest with you all the way so I wanted to be now too"

Hanzo's cheeks were flushed with pink. He looked cute but embarrassed. Immediately he was regretting everything, he should have kept quiet, he shouldn't have gone and blurted all that out like some love sick asshole. He probably made Hanzo feel more uncomfortable, maybe it wasn't such a great idea for him to live with Jesse. It just felt so good and so right and now he was filled with apprehension. Maybe it was too much, maybe it was his missing arm and seeing it in person was too much, maybe his style and personality was just not Hanzo's type.

"I have fallen in love with you too and I have been reserved because I'm not sure how to act, or what is okay and what isn't"

He finally stopped panicking and was able to breathe again. Hanzo actually liked him? He genuinely didn't know what to say but he was so thrilled. This could actually be something. He didn't want to seem too eager but also make himself look like a dick by snuffing out the flames, so to speak.

"You don't need to do or be anythin' but you"

They shared a meal together. Hanzo tried to teach him how to use chopsticks and taught him some Japanese, simple phrases that he could use to say thank you for the food and hospitality. Jesse paid for everything and when they were leaving, walking back home, he made a bold move. He placed his hand against Hanzo's and interlocked their fingers. It was a silent walk back but no words had to be said.

Jesse unlocked the front door and opened it for Hanzo. The other brushed against him on purpose when he went by, Jesse bit his lip as a hand lightly touched his crotch. When the cowboy closed the door behind him and locked it. Hanzo was waiting for him only a few feet in front of him, Jesse slowly approached. He tipped Hanzo's head back by lifting his chin. He looked over the handsome face before pressing his lips to the others and kissing him.

They both moaned into the kiss, kissing Hanzo caused his stomach to flip and his heart to cinch, his erection strained in his jeans and the kisses had become more intense, more heated. He pressed his friend up against the wall roughly, Hanzo wrapped his hands around his shoulders, pulling him in closer.

Jesse moved his hand down, pressing it to Hanzo's hip and pushing their erections together before he was lifting Hanzo and those legs were around his waist. Hanzo held onto him tightly, they disconnected the kiss and he looked into dark eyes they were filled with lust and anticipation. Jesse pulled back his flannel, throwing it to the floor, he looked at Hanzo's body, he didn't know what was under those clothes but he was eager to find out.

"Fuck, I want you darlin', I want you so bad"

He popped the buttons slowly on Hanzo's shirt, it was difficult but he did it. Fingers sunk into the back of his hair and lips were against his ear.

"I want you too Jesse, now"

He opened the shirt, revealing a toned chest, he shoved it down his arms and it dropped to the floor. He admired the tattoo before carrying Hanzo to his bedroom. Jesse hadn't had anyone in his room, it was nothing spectacular but how it was decorated was hardly the concern right now. Next to go were their shoes and socks, pulled off in a speed he didn't know he was capable of.

He placed Hanzo on the bed, resting on his knees looking down at him. He had thought Hanzo was beautiful before but now, now he was really enchanted. He lowered himself towards him, kissing down Hanzo's body to the waist of his trousers. He could see that he was hard, both flattering and arousing. He had never been with anyone like this man before, he was stunning, intelligent, sweet and though he sounded a little stoic when he spoke, he found him to be alluring.

He released the button and pulled down the zipper but suddenly Jesse was self conscious. He stopped himself, sitting back. Hanzo showed his concern.

"Jesse, what's wrong?"

He had told Hanzo everything when they spoke and now he wasn't feeling so talkative, he already had insecurity about his missing limb and seeing Hanzo, that gorgeous face and body, he wasn't sure that he deserved this.

"My arm"

It didn't really need much of an explanation. He didn't know if it mattered or not, he didn't look right especially now, at least that was how Jesse felt. He was only in a tank top and that alone made him feel apprehensive about what they were about to do.

Hanzo didn't say anything, instead he was sitting up and taking down his trousers, they found the floor and Jesse watched as Hanzo released some well disguised latches on his cybernetic legs and they were put to the side. He looked at the limbs, they were amputated just below the knee. Now they were both vulnerable, both naked in the sense there was nothing left to hide.

Jesse removed his tank and released his jeans, they too found the floor and there was nothing left between them. Hanzo touched his hairy chest, and then down to his arm. Jesse had never touched it or allowed anyone else to but he let Hanzo do it.

"You are beautiful, Jesse"

Aaaaannnnd unfortunately that's all that I can post here. You can find my trashy McHanzo fics on AO3 (shamelessly most of it is smut)

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neruran · 7 years ago

Text

Jumping Through Hoops

Series: My Hero Academia

Rating: T

Genre: Gen, Humour

Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Kaminari Denki, brief appearances/mentions of Kirishima Eijirou, Ashido Mina, Sero Hanta, Jirou Kyouka, Bakugou Mitsuki

Other tags: Bakugou Katsuki Swears a Lot, rated for Bakugou’s potty mouth, Future Fic, mildly OOC

Summary: Bakugou walked into work with a sprained wrist one day.

Read on AO3|FF.net

Inspired by Brooklyn Nine-Nine because I love that show, and that cold open is definitely one of the best. Wrote most of this two days ago at 4am and figured it was funny enough to post.

As the above tags state, this takes place in the future when the Bakusquad have their own hero office together. This is irrelevant to the story, but my headcanon is that the agency is named after Bakugou at his insistence, but they’re all his partners rather than his sidekicks. He throws a fit every time someone calls them his sidekicks because he doesn’t need underlings, they’re all people who stand on equal ground with him. They all point out that maybe if they changed the name to something more general people would stop assuming but nope, Bakugou’s too stubborn. Anyway, on with the fic.

It was an ordinary day in the Bakusquad Hero Office (that wasn’t the actual name, but all the heroes in said office except for Bakugou called it that anyway when the public wasn’t listening). At least, it had been until Bakugou walked in looking his usual Morning Disgruntled (as opposed to his Afternoon Annoyed or his Neutral Frowny Disinterest) and a brace around his left wrist. Immediately everyone became curious, because Bakugou hardly ever got any injuries that would require more than a bandaid and the few times he did usually meant extended hospital stays.

“Whoa, Bakugou, you okay?” Kirishima asked, standing from his desk. “What happened?”

“Fucking nothing, I’m fine,” Bakugou grunted as he passed them all, headed for his office. He was the only one of their group to have his own office room, having won the honour in an arm wrestling tournament when they first moved into the space, just barely beating out Kirishima. The rest of them had their desks gathered in the centre of the main room, something they found to be a blessing for socialization and a curse against focus.

“Yeah Kiri, leave him be,” Kaminari said, leaning in his desk as he watched Bakugou step into the office. “If he says he’s fine then he’s fine…”

The others exchanged looks with each other, not at all convinced by Kaminari’s attempt to not arouse Bakugou’s suspicion, but shrugged it off when Bakugou paid them no mind, kicking the door halfway shut. Once satisfied that Bakugou was going to be distracted, Kaminari turned back around, gesturing for everyone to move in closer.

“So I know our man Bakugou isn’t normally very forthcoming with this kind of stuff, but the fact he doesn’t look any more annoyed than usual and isn’t bragging or complaining about his latest arrest could only mean one thing,” he whispered once his friends and colleagues were huddled in.

“He’s...secretly doing some vigilante work?” Kirishima suggested, unsure.

“No, of course not, it means he probably hurt himself doing something stupid or embarrassing, but he’s trying to act like normal so we don’t get suspicious! Like, I dunno, maybe he hurt himself smiling like a normal person or something.”

“How the heck would he hurt his wrist of all things by smiling?” Ashido asked incredulously.

“I don’t know, Bakugou would find a way!”

“Maybe he just took up a new sport or something?” Jirou - who wasn’t part of their crew ordinarily, having her own hero office, but she was collaborating with Sero on a case that week - piped in.

“Like what? Last I heard, there hasn’t been anything called Murderball invented yet, and you really think he wouldn’t brag about a hard-won injury in something like that?” Sero countered.

Jirou shrugged. “Just a suggestion.”

“Oi, dipshits.” They all turned to see Bakugou standing just outside his office, glaring at them. Evidently they hadn’t heard the door creak open in their distraction. “I’m not fucking deaf, I can hear you just fine in my office.”

Kirishima was the only one who at all looked sheepish at being called out for gossipping; Sero, Jirou, Kaminari, and Ashido meanwhile all mimed varying degrees of innocence.

Rolling his eyes, Bakugou stepped closer, holding up his wrist. “Before you start getting some other dumbass ideas, an asshole plowed into me while I was walking home yesterday and I sprained my wrist when I fell over. Wasn’t an emergency and it’s been a stupidly slow week with work so I couldn’t get an appointment to have it healed until the day after tomorrow. Fucking simple as that,” he explained, storming over to the coffee maker and pouring himself a cup. “Didn’t think it was relevant to anything you idiots were supposed to be doing, so I wasn’t assed to explain.” Coffee poured, he turned back to the group, glaring. “Get your asses in gear. Since I can’t use my quirk with my left hand for the next 48 hours unless I want to make the sprain worse, you fuckers gotta pick up the slack, and anyone who’s sticking around to do paperwork will have me getting on their case to get it done.”

Disappointed with the lack of juicy details and properly cowed, the crowd dispersed, Kirishima and Ashido heading out on patrol while Jirou and Sero took to the break room to discuss their case in private. Kaminari pouted, turning in his chair to start work on some paperwork he was behind on.

“Hey Drooly.”

He looked up to see Bakugou standing beside his desk, expression carefully schooled to be unreadable. Idly Kaminari thought Bakugou’s “blank face” looked a lot like Todoroki’s default expression and had to wonder if that was on purpose. “Uh, yeah man?”

Bakugou did a quick glance from side to side, making sure the others were either gone or not listening before he leaned in closer. “Wanna how how I actually sprained my wrist?”

“Yes,” Kaminari answered immediately, eyes going wide in curious glee. Bakugou was confiding in him? Really? He knew they were good friends, but Bakugou generally chose Kirishima over him to tell secrets. This one must have been something big if he didn’t want to tell his best friend.

Bakugou paused a moment, then spoke quietly and seriously. “I was hula hooping.”

Well, of all the things Kaminari was expecting, that hadn’t been one of them, but boy howdy was it so much better than whatever his imagination could come up with. It couldn’t be real, Bakugou had to be pulling his leg. The disbelief must have showed on his face, because Bakugou pulled out his phone and tapped a couple times before showing it to Kaminari, revealing a picture slideshow of Bakugou indeed hula hooping. Kaminari couldn’t believe his eyes.

“My old hag convinced me to try a class out with her since Dad was busy, and it was actually surprisingly fun and relaxing,” Bakugou continued, swiping through the various pictures, likely taken by his mother. “I mastered all the tricks, because I don’t halfass anything. The pizza toss, the scorpion, you name it.”

This was too good to be true. Kaminari could feel himself practically vibrating in his seat at the sheer amazingness of this information. Oh, wait until the others heard this...Awestruck and so excited, he turned to Bakugou with wide eyes. “Why are you telling me this?” he whispered. Had he finally reached the same friendship level Kirishima was at? Was he beyond it?

Bakugou looked him dead in the eye. “Because no one will ever believe you.” And with those ominous words, he clicked delete on the photo album, destroying the evidence.

Kaminari’s face melted into absolute horror, a strangled sound coming out of his throat; Bakugou grinned deviously. “Nonono!” Kaminari wailed, reaching for the phone to try and reverse the deletion, but Bakugou cackled and moved out of the way. “Ugh! No matter, I can recover it, I’m sure it’s in a cloud somewhere!” Being the resident IT had to be good for something besides giving the shitty printer they’d gotten third-hand a little jolt to make it behave or performing percussive maintenance on the stubborn router.

“Nice try, but I already accounted for that. Those were the only copies that will ever see human eyes ever again,” Bakugou jeered. “Have fun!”

“You sadistic asshole!” Kaminari cried after him, dropping his head to his desk when Bakugou merely cackled harder and disappeared into his office, door properly closing this time. He wanted to sob.

Jirou and Sero poked their heads out of the break room curiously. “What just happened?” Jirou asked, voice confused and suspicious. Few good things happened when Bakugou cackled, she had a right to be wary.

Kaminari did sob, because Bakugou was right; he could explain all he wanted, but without evidence to back up his story, their friends would all think he was just making it up. Bakugou hula hooping, and enjoying it at that? You’d have be on some wacky substance to come up with that one. He regretted explaining to Bakugou how hackers and criminals cover their digital footprints and expunge incriminating information. His only other option was begging Mitsuki, and, well, Bakugou got his twisted sense of humour from somewhere. More than likely if he asked, she’d either withhold the evidence or deny it all together just to see him squirm more, especially if her son discussed his plans beforehand.

The next two days involved Bakugou casually dropping the word “hoop” in random conversations whenever Kaminari was in earshot (and twice managing to sneak “hula” in without raising any eyebrows) and relishing in his friend’s slow descent into madness. When Bakugou finally sauntered into work brace-less, Kaminari knew that he looked far too happy and excited than what was deemed normal, but he found he didn't care.

I'm pretty sure Bakugou is a sadistic troll when he's bored or properly motivated. Poor Kaminari. If you're wondering why he picked Kaminari, it was entirely because he was behind on his paperwork and was the least likely person to be able to convince his mother to send copies. Please leave a comment, kudos, or reblog this post if you enjoyed this!

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #katsuki bakugou #kaminari denki #bakusquad #nerufic #no i don't know why the apostrophes and quotation marks are doing that #i keep trying to fix it but nothing happens

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fanfic-from-a-67-impala · 7 years ago

Text

A Supernatural x Reader Story Chapter Thirty-Two: Devil May Care

Word count: 4162

ASxRS Masterlist

Your tires squeal as they turn off the road and into a grassy area, coming to a jolting stop next to the Impala. Sam and Dean rise from the picnic bench when they see you pulling up, an awning shielding them from the morning sun.

Your relief at seeing the boys safe dulls, overshadowed by the flames of rage licking your stomach. You slam your door behind you and stomp toward them.

Dean stumbles backward when you shove his shoulder. "The whole freaking day, you can't pick up a damn phone?" you shout, voice trembling with fury.

"Wha– Hey!" he yelps, catching your elbow when you jab at him again.

You yank your arm out of his grasp. "Two words, Dean," you spit through clenched teeth. "'We're alive.' That's all I needed."

A look of regret on his face replaces confusion as he opens his mouth to speak but can't seem to find words.

A calming breath passes your lips, a wave of relief quenching the fire, and you pull him by the flap of his jacket close enough to wrap your arms around him.

He freezes, shocked, before closing his arms around you, too. "Sorry, (Y/N)."

"Don't 'sorry, (Y/N)' me," you snap into his shirt before pulling away. His eyes droop with weariness but he seems unscathed by whatever events occurred the day before.

"And you," you sneer at the figure lingering behind him. "You scared the crap out of me."

Sam drops his eyes, wide with dread, until you have stepped in front of him, forcing him to look at you. "Never again, you got that?"

"Yes, ma'am," he nods and lets you pull him in for a hug.

You sigh as you let him go, the fire dying out completely. "What happened to you two? I got to the nearest hospital – it was trashed, warding everywhere. No one could tell me where you got to."

"It wasn't us. We were on the road all night," Sam informs you.

Dean shifts beside him, like he knows something more, but speaks up before you can press him. "What about you? I'd, uh –" he gestures to the bruise on your jaw "– hate to see the other guy."

"Angel," you explain. "Dead now. What happened there anyway?"

"Cas got Palpatine'd by Metatron," Dean says. "Turns out, he was brewing up a spell to cast all the angels out of Heaven."

"'All the angels'? That's how many?"

"Don't know. Thousands," he shrugs.

"Damn," you mutter. "And where's Castiel?"

"He crash-landed in Colorado. Metatron took his wings, his grace, his... harp. I told him to make for the bunker," Dean says.

"And Crowley's still..." you nod to the trunk of his car.

Sam furrows his brows in confusion. "Still what?"

• • • • • • • • • • • •

"You getting all this?" you say through your phone.

"I'm still wrapping my mind around the 'angels exist' thing," Tracy says.

"I know it's a lot," you sigh, "but a few years ago, you didn't think demons existed. These things are just another monster."

"Who'll smite me before I can say 'angel'," she says, her voice less shaky.

"Right. Keep your head up out there," you say.

"Got it. See you around, (Y/N)."

You set your phone back on the library table and strike your pen through Tracy's name on a sheet of paper, sighing when you see how many more names you have yet to cross off.

The three of you managed to get Crowley in the bunker, ear-muffed and blindfolded, now in the dungeon, bound in a devil's trap with demon-proof handcuffs. With no other plan to close the Hell gates, you and the boys decided to keep him trapped until he told you the names of all the demons on Earth.

Dean calls around his own circle of hunters across the room, telling them about the angels falling and how to kill them, as you do.

"Got something," Sam announces.

You and Dean turn to him; even Kevin raises his head from the angel tablet.

"Coronado, California. In the last twenty-four hours, it's seen three freak thunderstorms, and almost all the farmers in the area have reported their animals either missing or mutilated."

"I'll take demons for a thousand, Alex," Dean remarks.

"And, get this – this morning, three people dropped dead on a bus outside a Navy base."

You peek over his shoulder at the article on his computer. "Any witnesses?"

"It looks like the driver and any other passengers deserted the scene," Sam says.

You drum your fingers on the table, your eyes darting from the screen back to your list of names. "Why don't you two check it out?"

"You're not coming?"

"I've still got dozens of hunters to call, plus all of Bobby's old contacts," you note. "And somebody's got to stay on the web. With everything going on, these cases are going to start popping up like daisies. The more we can track, the better."

"Good point," Dean comments. "Let us know if you find anything."

• • • • • • • • • • • •

Apparent angel sightings appear throughout the world. After the boys leave, you spend the night with one shoulder holding a phone to your ear as you skim over your computer and mark the sightings on the map in the war room, letting your autopilot move your mouth to repeat the same information to each hunter in your book.

You don't realize the sun has risen again until Kevin emerges from his room. You sent him to bed last night, knowing he hadn't slept since before the angels fell, and now you set a plate of eggs and bacon next to his coffee cup.

"Not hungry," he says, eyes not leaving the tablet and pile of papers below it.

"When's the last time you ate?" You raise an eyebrow at him and, when he gives a yielding sigh, shove the handle of a fork into his hand.

Three more cups of coffee into the day, a lull falls over the pattern of angel activity, leaving you to study the map and pace the room.

Your eyes land on the puncture in the handrail near the door, travelling to the crossbow Kevin aimed at you and Dean when he thought you were intruders.

"Kev, you got a minute?" you call into the library, and gesture to the hall before he can say no. "Come with me."

Once you hear the padding of his reluctant footsteps behind yours, you turn into the gun range. You pick up a gun from the arsenal and check the clip.

"What are we doing here?" he asks, eager to get back to the tablet.

"You are going to learn something that all the AP classes in the world couldn't teach you," you say. "You ever shoot a gun before?"

He shakes his head.

"All right, this is a clip," you explain, holding it up. "Slide it in, like so, and it's loaded." You walk over to one of the booths and take your stance in front of a target. "Then pull the slide, aim –" you shoot into the target's chest "– and pull the trigger. Easy enough?"

He stands beside you, arms crossed. "Why am I here?"

"Because you shot an arrow at a handrail yesterday," you say, and press the clip into one of his hands, the grip of the gun in the other.

He studies them before glancing back up at you. You don't break the gaze, and he knows the sincerity of your request.

As if remembering the steps you took to set up, he turns both items over in his hands before sliding the clip into place and looks to you for approval.

You nod, and he steps in line with the target and mimics your motions, pulling the slide and taking aim. With a bang, the bullet leaves the gun and carves out a circle in the brick wall.

"That's okay," you say. "That's why we're here. Try it again."

He shoots again, hitting the corner of the target; again and again, each shot a staggering journey to the mark. He empties a clip and you hand him another one.

"Listen to me," you say, catching his eye. "I know you hate this – all of this. You never chose this life."

He lowers his gaze, his hands following.

"But I intend on getting you out and behind some white picket fence in one piece."

He shifts his feet so he faces you. "Dean says guys like us are never out."

"Yeah? Well..." you chuckle, "Dean's not the boss of me."

He laughs, lightly, and loads the clip.

"Point is, you've got us. You've got me and Dean and Sam, and we're going to protect you until you get to that light at the end of the tunnel," you say. "But you've got to do your part, and that means target practice. All right?"

"Okay," he nods.

"Good. Empty this clip and we'll pack it up for today."

By nightfall, you both sit in the library, you at your computer, him on the tablet.

A shrill ring cuts through the air. You raise your head to the direction of the sound and find a shoe box at the other end of the table, filled with cell phones. One of the boys' spare phones with its screen lit displays the word Unknown above answer and reject keys.

With a wary finger, you press the green answer button and bring the phone to your ear, waiting to see if you can hear anything before answering. "Hello?"

"(Y/N)," a woman's voice drawls. "What, Howdy and Doody leave their rinky-dink secretary to the phones?"

You feel a chill down your spine, but force it away. "What do you want, Abaddon?"

"World domination, an endless stream of infant blood," she lists. "But I'll settle for you giving those boys a message for me."

"And why would I do that?"

"Because you don't want to see two hunters' brains splattered on a wall any more than they do."

• • • • • • • • • • • •

"Irv Franklin and Tracy Bell," you repeat to the boys over the phone.

"Irv's a friend, don't know Tracy," Dean says.

"She's a hunter, too. She's..." you trail off. "She's a kid."

"What else did Abaddon say?"

"She gave me coordinates. They point to a spot on the outskirts of Eugene, Oregon. I'm headed there now."

"Text us an address. We'll meet you," Dean says.

You tap your fingers against the steering wheel as you drive down the empty highway. "You know this is a trap?"

"Yeah, and you just want to walk right into it?" Sam says.

"Guns blazing," Dean replies. "You guys with me?"

You hear Sam chuckling next to him. "You know it."

The purr of the Impala's engine over the speaker gives you the image of the boys, side by side, Dean with one hand on the wheel, Sam balancing his phone and computer in the passenger seat. The thought brings a smile to your lips.

"Always," you agree.

They wait outside a fence, leaning against the car, when you get there. You take out a shotgun, swing a bag full of salt and holy water over your shoulder, and follow them through the fence.

"The hell happened here?" Dean asks.

All the buildings in sight have mold and rust growing on their sides, and appear to be abandoned. Cracks and bumps have formed in the dusty roads, though no tire tracks or oil spots can be found.

"A local chemical plant sprung a leak years ago," Sam explains. "They evacuated three square blocks. I guess it's still contaminated."

Dean takes a step back. "Wait, so this whole place is poison?"

"Yeah," Sam says. "That's not going to help."

When you turn back to look at them, Dean has a hand hovering over his crotch. You roll your eyes.

"Doesn't hurt," he shrugs.

A crashing thud sounds from inside a nearby diner. You stop in your tracks, shotgun trained on the door.

Sam bursts through first, followed by you and Dean. In the center of the room, two figures sit gagged and bound to chairs.

"Irv," Dean calls, rushing over to him.

You step across to the other figure and undo her gag. "Hey," you whisper to Tracy, who looks more annoyed than hurt.

"Where's Abaddon?" Dean asks Irv.

"Abaddon's been torturing hunters. She's trying to get intel on you boys," he answers.

"Do you know why?"

"I seriously doubt she wants to add you to her Christmas card list," he remarks. "Now you want to make with the rescue or what?"

You pull out a flask from the bag and hand it to Sam, who unscrews the cap.

"Right after you take a shot of holy water, huh?" Dean says.

Sam pours a dose of water from the flask into Tracy's mouth as Dean does the same with Irv.

"Happy?" Tracy says with a glare.

"Sorry about that," Dean mumbles, taking out a knife.

"Don't worry about it," Irv says. "Last thing you need is us popping black eyes."

Tracy and Irv slide out of their chairs, brushing the rope off their wrists.

"You're Tracy, right? I'm Sam Winchester," he says.

"Good for you," she retorts.

You nudge her shoulder so that her eyes meet yours. "Not now," you warn, under your breath, and she rolls her eyes.

"She's new. We did a shifter job in Sacramento together," Irv explains. "Smart, but got a mouth on her."

Sam and Dean exchange a glance.

"Let's gear up."

• • • • • • • • • • • •

Your group of five escapes to the back of the next building, the trap set inside the diner for the demons.

"All right," Dean says, "we gotta flank 'SEAL Team Douche' in there, so, (Y/N), Irv, you and me will go left, Sam and Tracy, you go right."

You don't have time to give her a warning glance before she pushes Sam off from where he began to lead her forward.

"Don't touch me," she hisses.

"Whoa, what's the problem?" Dean questions, both him and Sam wearing confused expressions.

Her resentful eyes skate over you before landing on Sam again. "My family's dead because of him."

You risk a peek around the corner where the demons should walk through the front door of the restaurant any second. Your grip tightens around your angel blade.

"I watched a demon slaughter my parents," she continues, "and the whole time, it talked about how it was celebrating. How some dumb kid let Lucifer out of his cage."

Shock replaces the confusion on Sam's face, followed by an enormous guilt. He looks like he wants to say something, to apologize, but can't find the words.

You want to find some way to reassure him, to remind him that what happened wasn't his fault.

But around the corner, two figures, clad in the blue-and-grey of U.S. Navy uniforms, each carrying a rifle, storm into the diner.

"We don't have time for this," you warn. "Dean, Tracy – this way."

You give Sam's arm a quick squeeze as you brush past him to the opposite side of the building.

Dean and Tracy follow you to the corner, where the diner comes into view. No movement, and no sign of the demons, but the windows are too dark to see into the room.

"I think they're still inside," Dean voices your thoughts as he steps up from behind you. "We wait until they come out, and we pick them off one by one."

The three of you round the brick-lain corner slowly.

"Listen, for the record," Dean says, glancing at Tracy before turning his eyes back to the diner again, "Sam's not the only guy who thought he was doing right, and watched it all go to crap. That's just part of –"

"Being a hunter," she finishes, and nods in your direction. "You sound like her."

His eyes dart up to you, then back to her. "It's part of being human. Look, you want to be pissed off at Sam, that's fine. But if you want to go after somebody, you make sure they've got black eyes. Gotta know who the real monsters are in this world, kid."

You stare at him in awe of his way with words. Though they weren't meant for you, they give you hope.

The three of you step forward, Dean in the front, Tracy behind him, and you at the rear. You follow them, keeping a close eye on your group's blind spots.

A sickening crack sounds through the alley and you snap your gaze forward in time to see Dean tumble to the ground, a leather-wrapped red head saunters out of hiding.

Beside you, Tracy fires devil's trap bullets into Abaddon's midriff, one after another, until she pulls the trigger and the empty chamber only clicks in response.

Abaddon lifts her shirt to reveal where the six bullets barely wedged themselves into a bulletproof vest. "Kevlar," she laughs, and lets her shirt drop. "Beats magic bullets."

She steps toward Tracy with a murderous grin, but you block her path with a jab of the angel blade through her chest. She glows orange, groaning in pain, and doubles over long enough for you to shove her shoulder backward.

She stumbles back, where Dean uncaps a flask and flings holy water at her face.

As the water steams off of her skin, Dean shoves a set of keys into Tracy's hands. "My car is three blocks over. Go get more bullets, more holy water – get everything."

Almost recovered from the blow, Abaddon lurches toward Dean, who has his back turned to her. You start at her with the angel blade, but she casts it to the side and grasps your wrist, holding it back, leaving you open for her to send her fist into your stomach.

Buckled over, you reach behind you for your gun, but your fingers barely brush the grip before she slams a forearm across your chest, pinning you against the wall high enough for you to thrust your knee at her lungs.

You hit her jaw once, twice, hearing her laugh between each barely pained grunt. With smug upturned lips and a crushing force, she grasps your neck and lifts you off your feet. You pry at her fingers, to no avail. Her eyes dart to something behind you, though, and she throws you to the side.

You only see the ground surging toward you before you black out.

A bright light pierces your vision, bringing you back to consciousness, and you squeeze your eyes shut against the glare. Over the low ringing in your ears you hear voices.

"An angel?" Abaddon growls.

Dean speaks in a strained but undaunted voice. "You think we'd roll up to this mouse trap without some backup?"

Glass shatters, and you feel the fragments pepper your back. Further behind you, the shards crunch under boots, as if someone stumbles across it.

"(Y/N)?" Dean says. He tugs your shoulder so you lie on your back. "Hey, you with me?"

The sunlight sends an excruciating jolt through your head as you force your eyes open to a squint. You roll to your other side and see the faded green walls of the diner, the windows gone and the blinds a tangled mess.

Dean snakes an arm under your back and helps you to your feet.

"Abaddon?" you murmur.

"She's gone. For now," he adds, his hands still a firm grip on your shoulders. "You good?"

The headache dulls to a throb, bouncing around your skull like a ping-pong ball. The side of your face stings to the touch and your hand comes away spotted with red. "I'm fine."

His eyes linger on yours a moment longer before he releases you and turns in the direction of the diner. "Come on. We gotta get to Sam."

You follow his slow jog to the building. He cradles his right arm in his left.

"How's the shoulder?" you ask.

He stretches out his arm, wincing so slightly you almost don't notice. "It's been better."

The two of you burst through the broken door of the restaurant. The body of a demon lies sprawled across the counter, and another at the foot of a table. Sam stands over the last one, blood-covered demon blade in hand.

"They were going to kill him, Dean," he says, only he looks different, more stoic, and doesn't speak with the rush of words you have come to expect from him, especially after the adrenaline rush of a fight. He even holds the knife differently, like an instrument rather than a weapon.

By the time he turns to face you, you have your gun pointed at him.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean warns. "Put down the gun. I can explain."

An angel, Abaddon said. You hadn't processed her words until now.

Sam, or whatever stands in front of you, remains unfazed.

"Who are you?" you demand, not making a move to lower the weapon, though you know it won't hurt the angel. "Don't."

He draws back from the step he began to take toward you. "My name is Ezekiel. I'm an angel."

"I got that," you snap. "Skip to the part about what you're doing in Sam."

His eyes dart to Dean.

"Relax, (Y/N). He's trying to help," Dean says.

Warily, you pry your eyes away from the angel to glance at Dean. "You knew?"

"Look, after the trials, Sam was in bad shape," he explains. "The only way to save him was to let Zeke in so he could heal him."

"Angels need consent before they occupy a vessel, don't they?" you question. "Sam never would've agreed to it, not even if it would save his life."

You have turned your gaze back to Ezekiel, so you can't see Dean, only hear his silence.

"While Sam was unconscious, I entered his mind and gave him a choice," Ezekiel continues. "Live, or die."

"You tricked him," you simplify. "So, this entire time, you've been pretending–"

"Sam has been the Sam you know, in every way that matters," he says. "I divert his consciousness on occasion, when I need to speak with Dean."

"What's keeping him from casting you out?" you ask, but the answer dawns on you, bringing about a sick feeling, before either of them can respond. "He doesn't know."

Lowering your gun, you look across to Dean for the confirmation you don't need. He shifts his feet, avoiding your eyes.

"Dean, what the hell?" you exclaim.

"What, did you have a better plan?" he argues. "You were going to let him die."

"It was what he wanted! Do you have any idea what it feels like to have something inside–" you cut yourself off, lowering your tone when you feel anger breaking your voice. "Do you know how many lines you're crossing here?"

"Don't you think I know?" he hisses. "Don't you think I've been over all the ways this could go sideways? Not to mention every demon kill – that's on me, too."

"Oh, don't even get me started on that one," you groan.

He pauses to take a breath, allowing you both to settle your agitation.

"Look, Sammy's alive, okay? And he's better. I thought we were on the same side here," he remarks.

"We were on the same side when someone shoved a knife through his back. But now?" you trail off. "How do you even know we can trust this guy?"

"You can trust me," Ezekiel insists. "But there is no reason for Sam to know I'm in here."

You turn back to Dean, finding it difficult to watch Sam's body being... manipulated. To see his once comforting hazel eyes emotionless. "You expect me to lie to him?"

"It's like you said – he'd cast him out, and then he'd die. Is that what you want?"

"It doesn't matter what I want," you snap. "It matters what Sam wants."

"Sam wants to live."

"What, on angelic life support? You really think so?"

"I can't lose my brother again!"

His words take you back, forcing you to remember what you've forgotten in your frustration. Dean is human. He was about to lose his brother. And he did something stupid.

You must stare at him for a second too long because he allows his face to soften under your fading glower.

"I won't tell him," you agree, though some of the bitterness remains in your voice.

Ezekiel takes a step forward, now that you have calmed down enough not to shoot him. "Allow me," he says, and raises a hand to the scratched side of your face.

"No," you yelp, instinctively, backing away from the angel into the edge of a table. "Just... don't."

You see him drop his hand, peering only in his direction, still unable to look at him in Sam's body. You turn your attention instead to the duffel bag and an array of weapons on the counter.

"Let's just pack up and move out," you mumble.

#Supernatural #Supernatural fanfic #Spn fanfic #Supernatural x reader #Spn x reader #series #A Supernatural x Reader Story #writing is hard

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imagines-never-die · 8 years ago

Note

While searching through wreckage of a recent war site, Hanzo/McCree/Lucio find a person who begs them not to bring them to a medical place. The stranger somehow persuades them to just go to their home and as they clean up, the man sees that they have huge bird/bat wings and the person has become almost fully healed from being injured in a matter of hours! Thanks! {Angel Anon}

(Oh hello again, AngelAnon~ So nice to hear from you! This kind of sounds like an OC idea? Are youplanning an Angel OC? I can totally help match them for you if you want. This one turned out to be pretty long, though, so I put it under the cut.)

Hanzo

The archer surveyed the wreckage around him,his breaths heavy and his fingers sore from exertion. It had been some fightand he was the last one to leave the war site. He had been told to look for anysupplies to scrounge or any possible survivors, but there were none that hecould find. Sighing, he began the trek home when he saw a meek little head popup from the rubble.

The stranger glanced around nervously andshakily, their [color] eyes darting this way and that. Hanzo watched them for afew moments until they pulled themselves from the rubble and collapsed on thesurface. Now that he could see the rest of them clearly, he saw that their bodywas covered in dried blood and dirt. Beneath all that grime, they wore astrange sort of dress that ran from their neck to their knees, hanging looselyaround their form. It had one large zipper running down the back. Suddenly, herealized they could be survivor he was supposed to be looking for, and herushed over to them.

“Are you alright?” he asked as he knelt downnext to them.

The stranger flinched and sat up, giving him asuspicious glare.

“Do not worry,” he assured them, “I willnot hurt you,”

They just continued to glare at him, theirlips wavering slightly before muttering, “O-ok…”

“You’re hurt badly,” he pointed out, “Iwill take you back to the city and find you–”

“No!” they suddenly gasped, scrambling awayfrom him, “Not the city! I can’t go anywhere where more people might seeme,”

Hanzo cocked his head in confusion, “Whynot?”

“I just can’t! You sh-shouldn’t have seen meeither!” they exclaimed, “J-Just leave and pretend you never saw me!”

“Leave you?” he echoed, “Why would Ileave you? You could die from those injuries,”

“I-I’ll be fine,” they insisted firmly,hugging their knees to their chest.

Hanzo let out a small groan and pinched thebridge of his nose as he stood up. Why was she/he being so difficult?

“At least let me take you back to myapartment,” he offered, “I have medical supplies there that could help. Itwill not be as effective as proper medical attention, but at least I won’t beleaving you out here,”

Glancing around worriedly, they nodded slowly,and got to their feet. They were hesitant to let Hanzo carry them or even touchthem at all, so he merely offered his arm for them to lean on. Even when theyreached his apartment, the stranger continued to look about them nervously,darting like a skittish cat through the door once he let them in.

They insisted they could tend to their ownwounds and asked that he just leave them to get cleaned up. So, Hanzo went backto his room and waited for about an hour and a half. After that time hadpassed, he figured they’d have finished cleaning themselves up. Maybe theycould use some tea; probably an extra calming type for their nerves.

When he entered main room, tea in hand, he wasastonished to find the medical supplies unused. At first he worried that theyhad just let themselves die, but when his eyes moved to the stranger, he nearlydropped the tea he was carrying. All their wounds were completely gone, leavingtheir skin smooth and unscathed. Even if he had taken them to a hospital, itwould have taken days for them to recover like that!

But that wasn’t even the most shocking part.The large zipper to the back of their baggy dress was open and two giant batwings had unfurled from within it! The wings lay strewn across the carpet,little veins running through the leathery black skin. Meanwhile, the strangerlay on the floor, their lungs slowly rising and falling as they slept.

Hanzo didn’t even know what to make of it! Washe dreaming? Carefully, he set the tea down, and studied the wings. They lookedlike your average, enlarged bat wings…Felt like them too. Smooth yet ruggedlike fake leather; bony in some spots. Then his hands wandered to where theirwings met the back, his hand pushing the dress to the side a little to get abetter view.

Where the wings were implanted didn’t looknatural. It was like someone had dug them into their shoulder-blades thenhaphazardly stitched and spliced them into place. Just as his fingers began torun along where their normal flesh met their wings…

“Augh!” the stranger jumped awake, sending Hanzoflinching backwards.

The whirled around, their face flustered asthey tried to hold up their dress at the front.

“Y-You creep!” they shouted, “What thehell w-were you trying to do?! What, do you have a thing for backs?!”

“I-I…” Hanzo stammered, his face turningred, “Forgive me, I just–the wings were there, and I–well I didn’t evenknow what I was–”

“Wings?” they repeated, then their facesuddenly paled.

Quickly reaching back, they felt their wingsand their mouth formed a little “o” shape.

“They…came out?” they whimpered, “Yousaw?!”

“Y-yes, but that’s not a bad thing, is it?” heasked.

Suddenly they started to flap their wings andwith each flap the wings grew smaller and small until they completely retractedinto their back and disappeared.

“I can’t believe I let them fall out while Iwas sleeping!” they gasped as they frantically zipped up their baggy outfit.

“What…What are you?” he asked.

That question seemed to make themuncomfortable. They slumped their shoulders and hugged their sides, rockingthemselves back and forth gently.

“Y-You shouldn’t have seen me,” they mutteredunder their breath, “You sh-shouldn’t have seen my wings…”

“Why not?”

“I…I’m a geneticexperiment from Talon, but I escaped this morning,” they mumbled without makingeye contact, “I stowed away in one of their ships, but I didn’t know itwould lead me to one of their fights…”

Hanzo sat there, taking all that he/she had told him. So he had been harboring a fugitive that whole time. No wonder they were so jumpy. But at least now he knew what to do.

“Here,” he handed them a cup of tea, “You can stay here and rest for one more day, and then I’ll contact headquarters,”

They opened their mouth to protest, but he raised a hand to stop them.

“Don’t worry. Overwatch will keep you safe; you have my word,” he said, “And you’re knowledge of Talon could prove invaluable to them. But for now, just rest. My name is Hanzo Shimada by the way. I am sorry for not introducing myself sooner,”

“[Name],” they said in response, “Thank you for saving me, H-Hanzo,”

McCree

Jack groaned when he saw Jesse’s caller ID on his cell phone. What did he want now?

“Hello?” 76 grunted into his phone.

“Howdy, Morrison,” McCree said on the other end, “So, uh, I’ve got a bit of a problem and I need your advice…”

“What is it?” he grumbled.

“You know that mission we were just in? Well I was surveying the reamnants like you said, and I found someone,” he explained.

“Then take them to medical like I said,”

“Well I woulda,” McCree grimaced, “But uuuh…they were very insisting that I hide them and it all seemed a little fishy to me,”

Now the story seemed a little more interesting to Jack and he perked up, “So where did you take them?”

“Back to my ranch,”

“You took them to your personal home?!” 76 barked, “Agent, that’s a risky move! They could be undercover!”

Yeah, yeah I know!” Jack could practically feel McCree rolling his eyes on the other end, “But they were beat up pretty bad, and if I didn’t take them back here to get patched up, then there wouldn’t be much else I could do. Besides, that’s why I’m calling. They’re cleaning up right now which leaves a good chance me to go routin’ through their stuff. What kinda stuff would I be looking for if they were undercover?”

“I guess an ID card of sorts or some kind of pendant,” Jack shrugged, “Most Talon agents wear the company logo on them in the form of a charm or necklace, but you might also find a card with it, too. Look for any confidential files with an undercover mission, too, anything that instructs them to infiltrate an Overwatch agent’s personal abode,”

“Huh,” McCree nodded, “Got it,”

“Call me back if you find anything,” was Jack’s last order before hanging up.

That left McCree sitting in his kitchen, glancing down the hall to the bathroom. He knew the stranger was in their cleaning up, and all he needed to do was slip in and grab their bag. With any luck, they wouldn’t see him, so it was time to put some of his old Blackwatch skills to use. Gradually, he moved down the hall to the bathroom where he could hear little water ripples.

Backing himself up against the wall, he slowly edged the door open just enough for him to reach his arm through. So far, it didn’t seem like they had noticed. He could see their black backpack, so he slowly reached out for it, easing through the crack in the door more and more. Sure, he got it, but made the mistake of looking up.

“The hell?” he mumbled then slapped a hand over his mouth.

He almost couldn’t blame himself for saying it out loud. They had fucking angel wings on their back! Big, white, feathery wings hanging off their back and pooling into the tub around them! Of course they heard him and spun around, disturbing the water around them.

“W-W-What do you th-think–” they stammered, flapping their wings angrily, “G-Get out!”

Jesse yelped and ducked out, totally abandoning the pack he was supposed to have grabbed. He tried calling Morrison back to update him on the…odd situation, but he wouldn’t pick up. When the stranger finally emerged, wearing the same pants and backless shirt from before, their face was red and they looked pissed.

“What is wrong with you!” they shouted, “Can’t a guy/girl get some privacy?!”

“S-Sorry, really, I-I just wanted to–um…” he stuttered as the stranger waited impatiently for an answer, “Well…truth is I was gonna go through yer things and check if you had any evidence for being an undercover agent from Talon,”

They scoffed, “Do I really look like an undercover agent to you?”

“Well I dunno, you had those big ol’ wings on yer back!” he retorted.

Their face turned a darker red and they averted their eyes.

“So…you saw…” they snarled.

“Of course I did! The big white feathers hangin’ off yer back? Duh,”

Sighing in annoyance, they grabbed their backpack and slammed it down on the kitchen table. They unloaded all its contents, even shaking the bag upside-down a few times. There was a passport, snacks, money in the form of a variety of currencies, a silenced pistol, a guidebook to America, and some spare clothes. But nothing that Soldier: 76 had warned him about.

“See? Nothing that points to Talon,” they snapped, “So why would my wings of all things point to them?”

“Ok, ok,” he eased off a bit, “Just uh…wasn’t expectin’ you to be half bird,”

“Half angel,” they corrected him.

“Yeah, alright,”

“Well I am. Don’t you work with people with special powers in Overwatch?” they pointed out, “Aren’t you used to that?”

“So yer sayin’ you were born with this?” he asked.

“I’m saying that you should mind your own business, McCree,” they ordered, “Look, I’m grateful for you hiding me while I regenerate–”

“Wait what?”

“–But I’ve got to fly now, literally. Can’t stick around here much longer,”

With that, they grabbed their backpack and put it on backwards so that it hung off the front of their shoulders. Then they headed for the door with Jesse hot on their heels.

“That’s it? Not even an explanation for why your here?” he whined, “Not even a thank you?”

They stopped just short of the door and took a deep breath. Then they turned to him and looked him in the eyes with a heartfelt sincerity.

“Thank you, McCree,” they gave him a small bow, “I know I haven’t told you much yet–not even my name–but trust me, things will start to make sense very soon,”

“What do ya mean?” Jesse asked.

“I can’t explain that now,” they shrugged as they opened the door.

They walked outside, standing in the ranch’s driveway, and their ivory wings erupted from their back again. They looked so pretty and plush, it almost made him want to run his hands through them.

Looking back at him, the stranger said, “But I will explain soon. You play a bigger part in this war than you think, Jesse,”

They knew his first name?

“Wait, how you know my–” he started to ask.

But in one flap of their wings, they took off from the ground, leaving behind a cloud of dust. Just like that, they were gone, but he was sure they’d be back.

Lucio

Lucio didn’t question in much at first when the stranger requested to be hidden. They seemed so jumpy and afraid that he just wanted to calm them down, so he took them back to his place for the time being. He figured he’d just call the hospital in a bit anyways. If this person needed some time to settle down, he’d give it to them. After all, he found them in the wreckage of the Numbani Museum, where a big fight had just gone down. They had probably seen some shit in there.

He left them in the living room his Sonic Amplifier switched to the healing setting. Last he saw them, they were sitting criss-cross next to the speaker, allowing the light tunes to slowly cure their wounds. But when he came back with some water and blankets, he was surprised to hear that the music was switched off.

“Hey, you should keep that on if you…” he started to say when his voice suddenly died in his throat.

Well for starters, their cuts had totally closed up and they looked totally healthy. But what was weirder was that he had walked in on them changing shirts. But what was weirder than that were the chestnut-colored bird wings sprouting from their back and falling gently to the floor.

“U-uh sorry!” he felt his face heat up and he turned around, trying to hide the oncoming blush.

“It’s alright,” was their calm response.

At least they had chilled and weren’t stuttering and shrieking anymore.

“You can look now,”

They were wearing a shirt now, but a small part of the back was open for their bird’s wings to come out. The stranger fluttered them gently and smiled.

“You like ‘em?” they asked sweetly.

“Uuuuuuuuh…” was the only thing that came out of his mouth.

The stranger just giggled at him and stretched their wings out as big as they could make them, “Go on, you can look at them all you like until you get used to them,”

Lucio just placed a hand under his chin and leaned against the wall, his eyes still unable to move from the wings.

“I’m…not entirely sure I will,” he mumbled.

They just laughed at him again and folded the wings at their sides, “I always get the funniest responses from these. But listen, you can’t tell anyone you saw these. It’s a secret.”

They put a finger to their lips and went “shhh.” Lucio could only nod along.

“Got it. Um, w-why exactly do you have those?” he asked nervously.

“Born with ‘em,” they shrugged, picking at some of the feathers at the ends, “I’ve been looking for my biological parents–or creators–to find out why I’m like this. I came to the Numbani Heritage Museum for answers, thinking my wings resembled a bird native to here, but…”

Their cheery exterior suddenly dropped, and their body shuddered upon remembering their museum experience. Lucio grew worried and approached them.

“Hey, it’s ok now, you’re away from them now,” he comforted them.

“Who were they?” they breathed.

“Talon,” he sighed as he took a seat next to them, “They cause trouble everywhere they go,”

“What were they after?”

“Doomfist’s gauntlet,” he answered bluntly, “Those grunts just won’t take no for an answer. They just keep comin’ and comin’ to take it,”

“That sounds troublesome…” they mumbled.

“Yeah,” he droned, before perking up, “But you can stay here as long as you need to recover, of course.”

“That’s very kind of you,” their smile returned, “But I should be going soon. After all, my wings also somehow heal me, and I’m all better now. I’ll probably spend the night on the couch, but I’ll be gone in the morning. My past isn’t going to discover itself,”

“Heh, yeah I guess,” Lucio shrugged before getting up again, “But listen, if you need anything, just let me know. Food, tunes, birdseed–”

“Heeey…” they pouted.

“Sorry, sorry,” he chuckled.

#overwatch imagine #hanzo #hanzo shimada #mccree #jesse mccree #lucio #lucio correia dos santos #request

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italian-shitstorm · 8 years ago

Note

Is it too much if I ask all the OC questions for Frank? Lmao

It is 3 in the morning, you are lucky I love you and love talking about my OCs haha also this one is super long so it’s definitely going under a read more. Sorry I couldn’t do that to the last one.

1. Does your character have siblings or family members in their age group? Which one are they closest with?

He has an older brother but they do not get along at all. They honestly hate each other so. But he does have two younger cousins, Mariposa and Santiago, who both live in Spain and he talks to them a lot and they visit as often as they can. Also Cassandra isn’t really his sister but he likes to think of her as his younger sister and is very protective of her.

2. What is/was your character’s relationship with their mother like?

When he was younger he loved his mom a lot and wanted to spend as much time with her as he could. As he got older and his parents started leaving him alone with his brother fro longer amounts of time he began to slowly start disliking his mom. When they found out he was gay she kept blaming him and saying that he was sick and they could fix him. After that he just started hating his parents so much and wanting nothing to do with them.

3. What is/was your character’s relationship with their father like?

See above. He doesn’t get along with his dad either. It’s probably a lot worse. His dad was the one who mistreated him the most and was definitely the most abusive to Frank. When his dad found out he was gay he threatened to kick Frank out of the house if his relationship continued. When Frank’s grandmother (his dad’s mom) was in the hospital and really sick, Frank’s dad showed up unexpectedly and ended up getting in a fight with Frank. That got him kicked out of the hospital and he wasn’t allowed to come back and long story short Frank literally hates his dad so much.

4. Has your character ever witnessed something that fundamentally changed them? If so, does anyone else know?

Mmmmm boooyyy this poor boy has seen so much in his life it’s a miracle he’s even able to function. He’s been through so much with his family and all the shit his brother has dragged him into. But things are turning out great for him right now and his life is finally becoming more normal.

5. On an average day, what can be found in your character’s pockets?

His cell phone, and an extra pen and maybe some crumpled papers if he’s at work. If it’s a normal day and he’s not at work it’s still his cell phone and his wallet. Also his keys if he hasn’t lost them yet.

6. Does your character have recurring themes in their dreams?

Dreams?? Food??? Ethan??? Idk man

7. Does your character have recurring themes in their nightmares?

Being alone, people leaving, thunderstorms, police sirens and lots of gunshots

8. Has your character ever fired a gun? If so, what was their first target?

He has and he honestly does not like guns at all. It was probably some target his brother had set up when he was trying to teach him how to shoot.

9. Is your character’s current socioeconomic status different than it was when they were growing up?

No, he’s still rich. Maybe when he was younger he wasn’t as worried about money or material things, but he definitely is now.

10. Does your character feel more comfortable with more clothing, or with less clothing?

Um? I’m really not sure what this means? Like I guess it depends on the day and his outfit?

11. In what situation was your character the most afraid they’ve ever been?

When He ended up having to leave and he was worried that something would happen to Ethan and Tyler. He tried to break things off with Ethan and told Tyler he couldn’t be his friend anymore than just disappeared. Alex was holding both of them over his head and Frank was so scared what would happen to them if he didn’t comply. It was literally the hardest thing he’s ever had to do and he hated himself and his brother so much. It took a long time for him and Ethan to fix things and get back together and it took a long time for Tyler to forgive him.

12. In what situation was your character the most calm they’ve ever been?

I can’t think of a specific time but when he bakes it calms him down. Frank is a stress baker and so he bakes to help himself relax and it usually works and chills him out enough for him not to be scared or anxious anymore.

13. Is your character bothered by the sight of blood? If so, in what way?

When he was younger he was but unfortunately now he’s a lot more desensitized.

14. Does your character remember names or faces easier?

Definitely faces. He sees a lot of people a day as a waiter, but he remembers a lot of faces.

15. Is your character preoccupied with money or material possession? Why or why not?

Yes, both, because he’s a greedy asshole who likes to show off

16. Which does your character idealize most: happiness or success?

Both??? maybe?? This is a bit hard. He wants to be happy more than anything, but he wants to fight that urge deep inside that keeps telling him he’ll always be a failure and never amount to anything.

17. What was your character’s favorite toy as a child?

????? he probably had way too many

18. Is your character more likely to admire wisdom, or ambition in others?

Ambition

19. What is your character’s biggest relationship flaw? Has this flaw destroyed relationships for them before?

Boy howdy. THis boy is an attention whore. It has definitely caused a lot of problems between him and Ethan and caused a lot of problems with himself. It’s also put a strain on his friendship with Tyler after he started dating Haven. It’s just because he was ignored by his parents so much and now he just constantly craves attention from his favorite people. And when they don’t give it to him he freaks he fuck out.

20. In what ways does your character compare themselves to others? Do they do this for the sake of self-validation, or self-criticism?

It depends. Most of the time he’s comparing himself to others it’s to make himself feel better. He’s really bad about that and likes to think that he’s better than everyone else (even though deep down he really knows he’s not.)

21. If something tragic or negative happens to your character, do they believe they may have caused or deserved it, or are they quick to blame others?

When he was younger he always used to blame himself. But now if something bad happens, it’s usually Alex’s someone else’s fault and he will definitely blame them.

22. What does your character like in other people?

He doesn’t like a lot of people tbh. He’s super suspicious of everyone and the only people he really likes are his friends, select family and probably the lady who cuts and styles his hair.

23. What does your character dislike in other people?

Everything. He hates everyone

24. How quick is your character to trust someone else?

He’s not. He doesn’t trust really anyone that he doesn’t know

25. How quick is your character to suspect someone else? Does this change if they are close with that person?

He starts off always suspecting everyone but if you get closer to him he might trust you a little more but that’s highly unlikely.

26. How does your character behave around children?

He doesn’t particularly hate kids, but he’s uncomfortable around them

27. How does your character normally deal with confrontation?

He will jump into a fight so fucking fast it’s ridiculous. He’s always DTF (down to fight)

28. How quick or slow is your character to resort to physical violence in a confrontation?

He will jump up in your face but when it comes to a fight but he doesn’t particularly like to resort to physical violence. He will never be the first to throw the punch if that’s really what this is asking. Because of his past he is very defensive and doesn’t like to physically fight or hit people.

29. What did your character dream of being or doing as a child? Did that dream come true?

He wanted to be an astronaut tbh. He loved learning about space and was super into learning about the solar system. But as he got older he realized that it was just a kid’s dream and he would never become one. That and it took way too much school and he ended up hating school.

30. What does your character find repulsive or disgusting?

Liars what a hypocrite. Drugs of all kind. Alcohol. Bugs. Also people that sit on kitchen counters. Don’t ever sit on the counter in his house or while he’s there.

31. Describe a scenario in which your character feels most comfortable.

Whenever he’s able to just relax with Ethan honestly. Although Ethan can get on his nerves sometimes, he’s really the only thing that can truly make Frank feel comfortable.

32. Describe a scenario in which your character feels most uncomfortable.

Being around people he doesn’t like. When people yell at him or start arguments with him. When he gets caught in a lie. When he gets super anxious and unsure about what is going on.

33. In the face of criticism, is your character defensive, self-deprecating, or willing to improve?

Very defensive. He hates being told he’s wrong.

34. Is your character more likely to keep trying a solution/method that didn’t work the first time, or immediately move on to a different solution/method?

It really depends on what it is. He doesn’t have a lot of patience tbh so he would probably give up super easily.

35. How does your character behave around people they like?

If he likes you he will joke around a lot and tease you, but he doesn’t mean it in a bad way. It’s how he shows his affection. He will honestly let his walls down when he’s just with his friends. And maybe, once in a great while, someone will get him to smile.

36. How does your character behave around people they dislike?

If he doesn’t like you you better run

37. Is your character more concerned with defending their honor, or protecting their status?

Again, not really sure what this means???

38. Is your character more likely to remove a problem/threat, or remove themselves from a problem/threat?

depending on the situation, he removes himself hoping it will make the threat go away. Is he gets hurt, he could care less, but if it were Ethan, Ty, or Cass, he would definitely fight to keep them safe.

39. Has your character ever been bitten by an animal? How were they affected (or unaffected)?

I don’t know?? Never thought about this

40. How does your character treat people in service jobs?

He’s a server and his fiance works at an auto shop. He knows how stupid people can be and he knows how frustrating it is when you have to deal with them. He is always polite to service workers and tips very generously from the fact that he does the same exact thing.

41. Does your character feel that they deserve to have what they want, whether it be material or abstract, or do they feel they must earn it first?

Honestly, he feels like he’s been through so much shit already in his life that he deserves everything he wants. His motto would literally be the Treat yo self line.

42. Has your character ever had a parental figure who was not related to them?

Tyler’s mom and Ethan’s mom both acted as moms to him since his own was never there for him. Every year for mother’s day he buys them bouquets and makes them cakes.

43. Has your character ever had a dependent figure who was not related to them?

Cass is very dependent on him and Ethan. Both boys treat her a lot like a younger sister and she lives with them after she had no where else to go.

44. How easy or difficult is it for your character to say “I love you?” Can they say it without meaning it?

Boy howdy he sure can say it without meaning it. But in all honesty it’s really hard for him to say it out loud. The only person he says it the most to is 1) his grandma and 2) Ethan. And even then he doesn’t say it often. He doesn’t have to though because once you get to know Frank you realize that he says “I love you” through his actions and I think that means a lot more than him saying it.

45. What does your character believe will happen to them after they die? Does this belief scare them?

He’s really not religious, but he is very scared of dying. Growing up, his Grandma would always tell him that he would go to heaven after he died. When his parents found out about his sexuality they said he was damned and would go to hell. He didn’t really believe them but he’s just scared because he doesn’t know what awaits him. And he’s really not eager to find out any time soon

#OC things #is it obvious that Frank is my favorite?#idk man #He's just the most like me #in a lot of aspects #and I love him so much #Plus he's one of my first OCs man #I gotta show him all the love

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caffeinated-muse · 7 years ago

Text

To Be of Two Worlds

Chapter: 2

Word count: 2450

As expected I had arrived before Hank and the rest of the them. The station was mostly dark, the only illumination came from some desk lamps in the main office area. I headed to my desk and flicked the base of my lamp onto the highest brightness setting and sat down.

"I guess it wouldn’t be a bad idea to start on the report," I sighed. "Cause lord knows Hank wont do it til the last minute."

Pulling out my laptop I started typing, standard information first; state of the scene, initial ideas, and such on. However, it became clear to me that I wasn’t quite in the right frame of mind to be doing this. Flashes and snippets of image and sound would yank me away from my desk and into different places. Back to my old apartment on a Sunday morning, coffee brewing behind me a card game laid out and light-hearted arguing; to a night tainted in blood and smoldering framework; machines and test after test; Hank practically smothering me in an embrace; but then one image struck me dumb. It was recent, that android stepping out after Hank. He had seemed stiff in the moment, as if his body wasn’t quite used to moving around also slightly unsure of how to interact with the people bustling around the area. His eyes betrayed the strict down to business attitude he tried to show, there was a softness in those brown orbs a light curiosity like that of a child. Wasn’t that what he was? Manufactured and shoved out into the world shortly after, true he had the body of a man but in mind and heart he knew no more about how the world worked than a child, knowing only what he had been told.

"Kid have a coffee you’ll need it."

"Wait what?" I spluttered, started out of my mind palace. "Ooh iced coffee!

Thanks Gavy! I snatched the cup out of his hand and happily sipped at the straw."

"Don't call me that," Gavin hissed and turned around, running a hand through his hair. "Just the way you always you get it kid. But we should get going the rest of them should be here soon. He turned and walked in the direction of the interrogation room."

I stood up and grabbed a small purple box from my desk and after shoving it in my pocket bounced after Mr. grumpy guts Gavin Reed.

"Do you really need to take those damn cards with you everywhere?" He scoffed and jabbed the outline of them in my jacket.

I pushed his hand away and pulled out my cards. "Yes, I do Reed. And you know exactly why." I opened the box and pulled out its contents, sixty purple sleeved pieces of cardboard and began to shuffle them by mushing segments of the deck back into the main bulk. At this Gavin groaned. "Or would you rather I stare at my phone the whole time? Cause I could totally do that."

"Can it LaChance. How the hell are you even doing that anyway? Doesn't the, you know get in the way."

"Its called a glove smart one. And what my mush shuffle? Does it bother you?"

"Yes. Yes, it does." He growled and opened the door to the interrogation room.

"Good, you know I live to bother you." I blew him a kiss and sauntered into the room setting my cards down on the table in front of the viewing window and shedding my black leather jacket to reveal a black sweater. After that I plopped my tired body into one of the two chairs behind the viewscreen. Gavin took the seat beside me looking bored as ever.

"Sup love birds ya miss me?" Hanks obnoxious mocking alerted me to his presence.

"Okay first off, eww love birds with this creep? Hell no. No offence Gav."

"Some taken."

"Can it grumpy guts wasn't talking to you. And secondly Hank, I don't miss you, I wait anxiously with baited breath for your next terrorist like strike of sarcastic vocabulating." While this was going on the deviant was led in and placed in the chair. Hank made to doff an invisible hat and stepped into the chamber with the Android in question. "It'll take a while for him to start getting anything out of it. Connor coffee run with me, I need an extra set of hands."

"Two-"

"Gav, I know how you take your fucking coffee, let's go robocop." I snapped.

Connor and I walked out and back toward the break room. The office was dark once more, my desk light having an automatic shut off. The breakroom light flickered to life as I stepped in illuminating the somewhat shabby couch pushed into the corner, I guess the whole out of sight out of mind thing was at play here. There were a few well used tall round tables with equally tall chairs that I never used. Mostly due to the fact that I wast much more than a foot taller than the damn things. And on the counter sat in all it's over used, overworked, please-retire-me glory was our ugly avocado green coffee pot. Jiggling the faulty cord, I set to work filling it with water and measuring out the coffee.

"Lieutenant, may I ask a uh personal question?" Connor had piped up.

"Sure, but grab me the yellow mug from the top shelf first. Mug first questions second. "

He reached up and grabbed it with ease setting it down on the counter. "I wanted to ask about the glove. Why haven’t you taken it off yet?"

"That my friend is a conversation for another time." The pot spluttered to life and the smell of our low quality purchased in bulk coffee beans filled the air. "You can ask anything you want but the arm is off limits for now. It's, touchy."

"I don't think I understand you detective. Just about everything I need to know about you is in your profile." He stood in what I could only assume was the Android equivalent of processing how to English words. The led on his Temple pulsed a vibrant yellow. "Anything extra is merely trivial."

"Ah, but Connor it if was truly trivial and unnecessary, why did you want to know about the curious case of why no one has seen my right arm bare and hand ungloved in eighteen years?" I began measuring out sugars and cream into the mugs. "Is it perhaps because you think it would help us bond? Well it won't. Only three people here in the precinct know the story behind it in full and I'd like to keep it that way."

He stood there stock still once more the led spinning from blue to yellow and then a garish red. Probably scanning my file over again. Everyone does that, thinking they can hack the system into revealing the details about that day. But the thing with that data is that it doesn't exist in the electronic system, I had Fowler stash that stuff away in paper form inside one of the lock boxes in the evidence room for that particular unresolved case.

"Lieutenant, I need to at least know why there isn’t a report from you regarding the last time the Bloodmar case was opened. There are reports from all of the other members of the team including Lieutenant Anderson and Detective Reed." He adjusted his tie even though there was really no need for him to do that. I guess it was just a filler motion he picked up from the few humans he’d have interacted with since his activation, I doubt Kamski would have wanted such an annoyingly useless social cue programmed into an android. But then again this was Kamski, bastard does stuff just cause he can. "And we all know about Reeds unwillingness to actually file his paperwork."

"The only thing you need to know about that incident was that there was a series of mistakes, a bomb that went splode, and a metric crap ton of hospital fees that all landed on me and my tiny ass body." I hastily grabbed two of the mugs and started walking out, leaving the confused android in the break room. Hey robocop grab those mugs and head back. "You so much as allude to the Bloodmar case before the week is out I will dislocate your plastic knee are we clear?"

His led flashed yellow for a moment but then it returned to its normal blue as he followed me back to the interrogation room where Hank was just about ready to rage quit. I handed Gavin his coffee and sat down sipping mine after the other officer took his cup and we left Hanks mug off to the side. Apparently not much has happened, Hank did his usual sit there and stare at the android for a while and tried to goad it into talking. When that didn’t work he just sat there dejected before coming back in to where the rest of us were.

"Having problems old man?" I snickered. "Want the droid to take a pop at it or shall I head in? By the way this is yours." Handing him the coffee with one hand I tapped the deck against the table.

"Let Connor have a chance at this. Hes supposed to be the deviant catcher. Let him crack the damn hunk of plastic."

Connor stepped into the room, but frankly I couldn’t care less what he did in there I doubted he could do much against the crazed android. I wasn’t disappointed with the performance we were given.

It started out slow, with Connor staring at us for a moment from his side of the viewscreen and then casually looking through the file on the table before sitting down and attempting to talk. Connor then pulled the file in front of the suspect and began showing the photos of the crime scene. I stopped paying attention at that moment but was quickly brought back in when the file was slammed back onto the table with a loud exclamation of 28 stab wounds and threats of being disassembled and the subsequent android death. Good stuff I guess but I was getting bored just sitting there.

"Hank, can I join the android party?" I pleaded putting on my best puppy dog eyes. "I’m getting bored sitting here."

Hank just sighed and pointed at the door and I popped up quickly to go join the android party. But Gavin had to be Gavin.

"You cant just let her go in there like that Hank! "

"Gav last I checked this case didn’t have your name on it anywhere. So, can it before I dump coffee on you." With that I placed my hand on the scanner and after the door slid open I stepped inside. "Howdy buddy whats up?" I leaned against the back wall behind Connor and flashed our resident robomurderer a wicked grin miming a head shot in his direction with finger guns.

"Lieutenant what are doing here?" Connor didn’t even turn around, just continued to give the android a death stare.

"Got bored wanted to have some fun with Mr. talkative over here." I sauntered over behind our suspect. And whispered into his ear, "Just say you killed him honey, otherwise I'll get to have even more fun taking you apart in the basement than I am watching you squirm. Or you can stay silent and I get my fun, your choice."

"He-he tortured me every day..."

"Ooh do go on, I’m listening." The android shifted slightly in his seat as if he wanted to stand. I grabbed the back of the chair and sharply tipped it back. "No moving, only talking sweetie. That is unless you want to see my lab."

"I did whatever he told me, but there was always something wrong. Then one day he took a bat and started hitting me. For the first time I felt scared. Scared he might destroy me, scared I might die, so I grabbed the knife and I stabbed him in the stomach. I felt better so I stabbed him again and again until he collapsed." The android looked down and refused to move after that.

"Whelp Hank, Connor we got what we wanted lets get out of here. Pity I don’t get a new play thing. There’s always next time I guess." Gavin and the other officer came in and attempted to relocate the android to its holding cell. However, it decided to resist this.

As the droid jerked away from the lower officers touch I laughed at the struggle. Things were going to get good, I could feel it. And I was rewarded when after falling from the chair the android stood up the officers gun in hand, safety off and it trained on me. Connor shifted almost like he was going to jump the android but I held up my right arm in a signal to stand down. It all happened so quickly after that, I saw his finger twitch and brought my right arm into a defensive position just as he pulled the trigger. The bullet ripped part way through my arm but I felt nothing as I watched the damn android then turn the gun on itself.

Hank swore loudly but I didn’t care I was already walking out of the room and heading toward my desk after hastily putting on my jacket and scooping up my cards. Connor however was hot on my tail and this was the last thing I needed Mr. curious robocop to be doing.

"The fuck you want Connor?" I had made it to my desk, with my back turned to him shoving my stuff back into the backpack I carried. "I don’t have time for this."

"You've been shot Lieutenant you’re not going anywhere without an escort."

"That's not my name. and I will go wherever I damn well please!" slinging the bag onto my back and fitting the helmet back onto my face I began walking out, right arm dangling useless at my side.

"Ember I cannot let you do this-"

"Do what? Avoid medical treatment? Watch me! No doctor would take me right now anyway." I climbed onto my motorcycle and started it up, used to only being able to use my left arm it was a breeze. "Not now not ever."

"Stand down you need help."

"I need to get home that’s what I need, not any of your damn help." And with that I sped off my arm fluttering limp at my side, leaving Connor standing befuddled in the rain.

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