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excelsi-or · 4 years

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your type (pt. 1)

Hello friends! I have retuuuuurned. I decided we’d go with the ‘dating you because of a date’ trope story (mostly because I’ve suddenly started OVERHAULING the shit out of the other story I’d proposed to you). It’s a decent-lengthen fic, a little more story-based than snapshot like my past two series.

w.c. 2.6k (LOL, enjoy the set up. We hit the ground running pretty quick after this one.)

pt. 2

note 1: I’ve tried to make all the characters/idols in this one, so if you see a name and recognize it, yeah, it’s probably the idol you’re thinking of. I haven’t done this in my last two fics because I usually prefer not to, but I needed so many side characters to bring this story to life and I doubted you guys would be interested in me creating a bunch of random names and people you didn’t know.

note 2: I don’t ship any of the idols that are ‘together’ in this fic or wind up ‘together’ in this fic.

When love is a game on a university campus, the question is always how many people can you get into your bed?

Her girls are all about this game. Between studying for exams, hobbies, volunteering and hanging out; they are swiping left and right, going on dates, meeting new boys on campus that they’ve never interacted with before.

To be systematic about it—because these are science majors—they’ve been working through varying departments. And they’ve left a specific department for their last year at school: the music department. For two reasons.

1) The hottest boys come out of the music department.

2) The fuck boys come from the music department.

If her girls are all about meeting and bedding various men, the boys in the music department are playing the same game. And she has heard various stories about girls trying to change these music department fuck boys.

She’s dabbled in the dating scene, but has quickly learned that the boys on campus just tend not to be her cup of tea.

“Party at Jackson’s tonight,” Jihyo tells her as she slips into the seat across from her at their dining room table.

“And who are you chasing after tonight?” she asks simply, erasing the subscript 2 she’d put down next to her carbon.

“Do you know Choi Seungcheol?”

She snorts. “I wasn’t born yesterday.”

“We’ve been flirting a little.”

Before she can respond properly, the answer to her chemistry question suddenly comes to her. She grumbles under her breath as she proceeds to erase half a page of work. “Did you go for your testing this morning?”

“Still clean,” Jihyo hums. The woman takes the chemistry homework distraction and uses it to her advantage. “How was that boy you met last week?”

“Eh.” She slowly starts over. “He was whatever. Little too handsy, little too spitty. Kinda boring.”

Jihyo laughs. “I still don’t think you’re giving these boys a chance.”

“Boy’s gotta meet my standard or fuck off,” she chuckles. She tosses her pencil into her notebook and closes it. She props her chin in her hands. “I’m guessing since you’re going to distract me from homework until I say I’m going to get ready that you have someone you want me to meet tonight.”

Jihyo shrugs. “No promises, but Cheol did say to bring my friends tonight so we can play card games at Jackson’s tonight.”

She gets to her feet. “We can do that at someone’s house and not at Jackson’s party.” She heads to her bedroom. “But fine. I’m always down to beat new people at cards.”

Having dabbled in a few music classes, she does actually recognize a few of Seungcheol’s friends. Seungkwan and Hansol come as a pair and don’t date around as much as the others do, likely why she’d taken a liking to them. When Jihyo drags her through the crowd at Jackson’s front door and into the living room, those two boys tackle her first.

She winds up on Hansol’s knee, his hand at her waist to balance her there. “How are you? We haven’t seen you since theory class.”

“I’ve been in the research lab,” she laughs. “You said you’d come visit me.”

“Not all of us are graduating, noona,” Seungkwan argues. “You’re done this year, but we have two years left.”

She ruffles his hair. “Excuses, excuses.”

“Have you met everyone else before?” Seungkwan asks when one of his friends returns with a few beers in his hands.

“Briefly.” She shakes her head when Hansol offers the beer.

Proper introductions are made, and conversation is easy. Jihyo is already in Seungcheol’s lap. His hand strokes her bare legs, likely ‘warming’ them. That excuse always makes her laugh.

Momo walks into the room, a little tipsy already, and scans the room. When the taller woman’s eyes land on her, she breaks out into a smile. “I need you to meet someone.” Without a response, Momo grabs her hand and lifts her off Hansol’s knee, pulling her back through the house.

“You good?” she asks Momo once they’re out of the room and entangled in the sea of people.

Suddenly, Momo stops them before an older looking man who looks incredible uncomfortable to be surrounded by university students.

She stares up at this man and looks between him and Momo. “Who is this?”

“My boyfriend, Heechul.”

Her eyes widen. Momo had been going on about some older man she’d met at a café nearby. And Momo has been asking her to meet Heechul for a while, mostly for approval. Her girls think since she’s picky that she knows how to judge good men. She can’t confirm or deny that.

She holds a hand out. “Nice to MEET YOU!” She has to start yelling, because the music has picked up now that the party’s in full swing.

“Oppa was just dropping Sana and me off and Jihyo said that you were going to be here!” Momo gives her a little push towards Heechul. “Talk to him!”

She tilts her head. “Where are you going?”

“To find Sana and Jihyo!”

Momo pecks Heechul on the cheek and tells him that someone will call to be picked up.

Once his girlfriend wanders off, Heechul looks down at her. She motions towards the door. The man seems confused as to why a little girl is bossing him around, but he leads the way out of the house.

She stands on the front porch, leaning against the beam near the steps. “How old are you?”

“36.”

She almost chokes on her tongue. That is a very apparent 13-year age difference. “Right. Momo said you met in a café.”

“I spilled my drink on her by accident.” Heechul seems hesitant to say more. He leans up and squints at her. “Who are you again?”

“My name doesn’t matter, but I know I have some weight as to whether you and Momo continue to date.” She tilts her head. “Why Momo?”

“Why not Momo? She’s gorgeous, sweet, adorable.”

“What is Momo studying?”

“Something in science, but she’s a dancer at heart.”

She mulls that thought over in her mind. “And what do you do?”

The name is technical, which suggests that his job isn’t CEO. But it sounds stable.

“Kids?”

“None.”

“Married?”

“Never.”

She nods her head and then smiles sweetly. “Nice to meet you.”

Heechul doesn’t call after her like the other boys tend to do when she abruptly ends her weird interview, which reflects his age. But she knows he’s definitely confused by the way he lingers in the walkway.

Inside, her ears need to readjust to the volume. She weaves her way back through the house, the bass trying to alter her heartbeat in her chest. Just as she’s about to join her friends in the living room, she gets stopped by Jeon Jungkook. They’d dated for nearly a year during her second year of university. He’s dating his roommate now, but they’re still close. Jungkook picks her up around the waist and spins her.

“I haven’t seen you in ages! Why does it feel like you disappeared off the face of the planet?” Jungkook demands.

“I’m in hiding!”

“Hiding?”

“Don’t want you to suddenly fall back in love with me and leave Taehyung!” she teases. “Where is he anyway?”

Jungkook pecks her cheek. “Somewhere here! I had to drag him out from under his chemistry thesis!” Kim Taehyung wound up joining the chemistry graduate program at the university. His brain is legendary in the chemistry department.

“Tell him I say hi!”

“Where you going?”

She points to the living room over his shoulder. Jungkook’s brows rise, impressed. When they used to come to parties, they’d spend most of the time in whatever game room existed. Many of the houses they visited owned a pool table, and if people weren’t having sex on it, she, Jungkook, and a few of their friends would play rounds of pool until everyone else was too drunk to shoot straight.

“Aren’t Mingyu and his friends in there?”

She rolls her eyes, a smirk on her face. “Wish me luck!”

Jungkook laughs. “You don’t need it! Those guys would be insane to tangle with you!” He gives her a quick kiss on the forehead and pats her lower back. “I would know!”

They promise to meet up for a late lunch the following day after he’s nursed his hangover, and she rejoins her friends in the living room. Momo drags her to the floor. “What did you think of Heechulie?”

She gauges Momo’s expression. Her eyes are out of focus, which suggests intoxication thus suggesting more emotional responses. “Let’s talk about it tomorrow.”

“Yo.” She looks over at Hansol’s voice and catches the Coke can he tosses at her. The boys all ‘oh’ loudly, and she furrows her brow at the overreaction.

Suddenly, someone is leaning towards her and whispering, “He promised that one of you would be sober.”

She turns and finds herself face-to-face with Mingyu. “Okay…”

“It makes Stress a little more challenging,” Mingyu clarifies.

Stress is a speed-based card game, one that Jihyo had taught her last week. Now that she knows the boys love to play it, she understands where Jihyo learned it. When the woman had taught it to her, Jihyo had said, “I can’t wait until you get to play them!”

It had been such an odd comment at the time, but now that there’s a Stress tourney happening in the living room with 8 decks of cards, she gets it.

And here she is, after three rounds of Stress with various people, sat across from a man she only met properly about ten minutes ago: Jihoon. He’s flushed in the face from the heat of the party, the alcohol, or the anxiety of all the people who have been cycling through the room to watch.

“How drunk are you?” she asks as she shuffles.

Jihoon tips his head both ways. “I’ve had two.”

“Shots? Or beers?”

“Shots.”

She nods her head as she begins dealing.

“Noona, it’s not fair!” Chan whines, leaning into her. They’d played each other in the first round, and even with her going slow, she’d still won. “You’re not as drunk as us.”

Gently, she eases him into Seokmin. “I don’t drink. You guys wanted to play, so we’re playing.” She catches Jihoon’s gaze. “Do you care?”

Jihoon shakes his head. “Nah. Easy win regardless.”

Jihyo’s laugh is short and loud to prove a point. “Even if you were sober, Jihoon, she’d smoke you.”

Jihoon gives his head another shake as Seungcheol shouts go.

And she wins.

She has to squirm out of all the grabby hands that try to toss her into the air in victory. “I’ll be back.” She gets up and starts towards the kitchen. She feels someone following her and finds Jihoon there.

“You shouldn’t go alone,” he states.

She doesn’t question it. It is a house party. Guys she doesn’t know will try anything. She ducks around arms and around hands that try to grab her when they call out to her in greeting. She, however, pounces on Min Yoongi who is standing in the kitchen talking with someone.

“Hey kid,” Yoongi says once he gets over the surprise. “Haven’t seen you in eons.”

She digs around in one of the coolers for a Coke. Her drink had spilled four minutes into the tournament when Seokmin had lost and flailed his arms around, promptly knocking her drink off the table. “Jungkookie and I are going for lunch tomorrow. You should come if you aren’t busy.”

Yoongi hums. “Sure, kid.” He glances at someone over shoulder. “I can move some stuff around.”

She gives his arm a squeeze before venturing back through the mass of humans. When someone bumps into her, causing her to topple backwards, she falls back into Jihoon. His cool hands and broad chest keep her steady and guide her back to the living room. He releases her and returns to his spot at the opposite end of the room.

A beer she hadn’t noticed Jihoon take is passed off to Jeonghan. The boys all have someone in their lap or someone trying to get into it, and a few of her girls have disappeared.

She glances at the clock. Jihyo catches her doing this. “You can go,” Jihyo mouths.

She juts her chin their direction. “You going home with Cheol?” she mouths back.

Jihyo glances down at Seungcheol who is talking to Joshua, and then meets her eye again with a nod.

Immediately, she gets to her feet again and begins saying her goodbyes.

“You heading out?” Jihoon asks from his spot on the floor next to two girls and Wonwoo.

“Yeah. Music’s making my head pound.” She squeezes Wonwoo’s outstretched hand and runs a hand through Seungkwan’s hair as she passes.

Once again, when she glances over her shoulder, she finds Jihoon behind her.

“What?”

“Walking you home.” He’s already grabbing his jacket from the overstuffed hall closet. Some people’s jackets have landed on the floor.

She smirks. “You don’t have to do that.”

“You’re gonna walk home alone at night?” He shrugs his jacket on.

“You’re tipsy,” she snorts. “You should stay here.” She slips past him to find her own coat. It’s tangled in the back. Jihoon nudges her out of the way to grab it. He helps her into it.

“Are you going to say goodbye to say bye to Jackson first?” he asks.

“I don’t actually know him.” She zips up her coat and meets his eye. “You go say bye.”

“Come on.” Jihoon motions with his head for her to follow.

“No, I’m good.”

Jihoon somehow knows that if he leaves her for a second, she’ll be out the door without him. “Let’s go then.”

She doesn’t question him. As they walk back to her apartment, she pops open the Coke can still in her hand. “Just so you know, the walk is twenty minutes.”

“You were going to walk twenty minutes on your own?” Jihoon demands.

She glances over at him. “I didn’t realize you were so chivalrous.”

“And I didn’t realize you were an idiot.”

She snorts. “The walk’s well-lit and I find it’s more comfortable than taking the bus or a taxi.”

“Any walk is nice until it’s not.”

Instead, this walk is almost awkward. With anyone else, it definitely would have been. They say next to nothing the entire twenty minutes, though he does sip the soft drink when offered. At her lobby door, she turns and smiles. “It was nice to meet you. Thanks for walking me home.”

Jihoon studies her for a while. She wonders if this is one of his moves. She’s heard of Jihoon’s reputation through the grapevine. And if this is one of his moves, does this really get the ladies going?

Eventually, the scrutinizing goes on for so long that she slowly backs towards the door to go inside.

“Do you want to go for breakfast?” he calls after her.

“Breakfast?”

“I heard you say you were busy at lunch. How about breakfast?” Jihoon asks.

She glances over her shoulder as she unlocks the door. She lets herself into the apartment and stands half in and half out. “Sure. Goodnight.”

“What? You’re not going to give me a number to call you? You could just say no.”

She lifts an eyebrow. “Not as drunk as I thought. 9 AM here then.”

His brow furrows. “You want me to pick you up?”

She glances up towards the lights above the doorway that name her building. “You know where I live. 9 AM.”

Jihoon nods. “Okay.”

pt. 2

#woozi imagines #woozi scenarios #woozi #Lee Jihoon #lee jihoon scenarios #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #Seventeen #svt

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elfboyeros · 3 years

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How May I Serve You?

Note: So, let me explain! This is taking place in the time between seasons 7 & 8 that like year or whatever. Zane has been doing missions and stuff alone, for a while, and Pixal (because she has been Samurai X) has been popping in and out of his system. Zane is just stressed, worried, and depressed for a large list of reasons and Pixal (were she may be a bit out character) {I write them normally a bit out character regardless} is trying to make him a little relaxed. There is a thing at the end that takes place in like modern show time, got it, good! Anyway, let’s go!

@parachutingkitten

It was now turning to dusk; the titanium ninja had arrived at an abandoned building far away from the likes of Ninjago City. Dawning his semi-new human skin, as his brothers liked to call it, he approached the broken cobblestone path leading to the broken wooden doors of the building. A crumbling building, covered in dead plants, large openings in different areas, and graffiti-stained bricks.

He sighed looking upon the building, “what a shame.” He heard a slight giggle, a feminine giggle, letting eyes fall to the path to the entrance.

She stood there, sliver hair, pure white skins, purple colored assistance uniform, with the one sleeve and half skirt. With a blue film covering her body, with an almost static texture. Marking that she was really there with him, only a hologram. She smirked, bowing, her right arm place behind her back and her left against her chest, her hand over her heart.

“How may I serve you,” she questioned, looking at him through her lashes, “Zane.”

He rolled his eyes, watching her stand up straight, still smirking, “you know that is not necessary, Pixal,” he remarked, his tone one of both annoyance and tiredness, “don’t say it again.”

“I am one theatrics,” she joked, placing her hands behind her back, “and I won’t if it pleases you.”

Zane exhaled, turned leaving walking into the abandoned street, “where are you going,” Pixal exclaimed.

“Away from you,” he said loud enough were his voice bounced off the old buildings.

She let out a loud laugh, following him while matching his quick pace, “that's not a good idea.”

“and why not?!”

Pixal appeared in front of him and unbelieve close at that, making the tall man step back quickly as to not walk through her. He would never walk through her.

“You can’t get rid of me for one,” she stated, “as if you wanted to.”

Zane folded his arms to his chest, “plus you are meeting Kai in that broken-down building,” Pixal added.

Zane sighed walking toward that building, entering the time, with his hologram paramour following close behind him, even looking around as he stood against one of the partial walls with closed eyes, trying to rest.

He could feel her when she settled beside him, or the sensation of her there. She had not actually been beside him in a long while. Although the hologram stuff wasn’t normal, Pixal would do it every once a while, when he truly wanted to talk to someone. She would do it late at night as he sat in bed. Let him vent to the wall and cry against himself as she, either, sat in the window seat or at the end of his bed.

Or that one time where he had run out of the monastery on a whim and made to a cliff, where he just screamed. He did it three times that night. The first: when he got there. The second: Pixal had come out in that hologram form and let him scream at her for a few minutes. He also allowed her to scream. The third was before he left, collapsing to the ground and crying when Pixal hid back into his system.

Although since the events with Acronix and Krux when Zane was left incapacitated and Pixal had disappeared, once she reappeared in Bounty systems, with little explanation, she bounced between the ship's systems and Zane’s. It wasn't until recently she used the hologram form, that she had control of. She would pop up randomly when Zane alone, scared at best and confusing him at worst, because it was after times she had disappeared for a good minute, again with no explanation.

At this point, she was becoming an antagonistic force to Zane then a loving one.

Zane adored the woman and wouldn’t let her go. He respected her, and wish for her to really be there, but there was a sense of secrecy with her now. Mixed with his depression, stress level with the trying to find his Sensei that was lost, and dealing with normal Ninjago shenanigans. A part of him wasn’t pleased with Pixal’s playfulness and it showed.

He felt her hand try to touch his, making him jerk his hand away, “right, no touching,” Pixal muttered, “I’m sorry.”

His only rule with the hologram: no touching. It would reinforce that she wasn’t there, and dispute Pixal wanted to respect his wishes she often forgot about the rule, “the love language of touch,” Pixal remarked with a sighed, “makes something like no touching hard to remember.”

That made his heartbreak more than was ready broken, he would get anything just to touch her, “I know,” Zane sighed.

“That’s new,” she declared, making he look over at her in confusion, “the ring.”

He lifted his left hand to his eye level, leaning back against the brick, “fairly.” he whispered.

A thin black ring place on his left ring finger, only black given his titanium shell, he normally wore, “a ring on the left hand's ring finger, symbolizes marriage,” Pixal mused, “who have you married recently?”

There was ever the hit of jealousy in her voice, it made Zane want to wait on answering, to see if she would become anymore jealous.

“You,” Zane said with a chuckle and a smile, “it is supposed to symbolize my union to you. I saw this as a simple way to symbolize what is between us.”

“We do act like a married union,” Pixal alleged, “don’t we?”

Zane nodded, smiling as he heard her giggle, “I wish you were here,” he expressed, “I yarn for you to be beside me again.”

“As do I,” Pixal cooed softy, watching Zane squat down, his hands covering his face.

“It makes me livid that I didn’t try harder to get you out of my head, sooner.”

“You were busy, it is understandable.”

“And now you keep disappearing for days,” Zane cried, clenching his hands to his chest, “I understand if he other could need your assistance, but the fact that you won’t tell me where you are going, makes me nervous.”

Pixal didn't say anything, “then you come back to me, again with no explanation, almost like nothing happened!”

She once again said nothing as he stood facing her, “tell me where you’re going, when you leave my systems,” Zane insisted, “I know you are going to the Bounty's systems because I have checked, multiple times.”

“I can’t,” she whimpered.

“You can’t or you won’t,” he bellowed.

She said nothing, turning her head away from him

“Tell me where you go,” he demanded in a scream, before grabbing her shoulders.

His eyes widened as his hands fazed through her, right, she’s not really here. She was regaled to like a figment of his imagination, almost as if she weren’t real, to begin with. He stared at her hologamic form tears rolling down his face, staring at her melancholy face on the verge of tears.

Zane had not time to apologize or even speak before she disappeared, as she faded away he heard footsteps approach, “Zane,” Kai said, entering the distressed building, “I heard screaming, you okay.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, whipping his tears before turning to his brother, “I’m fine.”

It had a few good years since that night of the argument that was never resolved. Pixal, very much real, exited the monastery in need of fresh air and a nice view of Zane training, alone. She had thought about that argument a lot recently, for whatever reason, Zane had too. Maybe that’s why his training was slightly more violent.

Pixal descended the small steps to the courtyard as Zane shot ice at one of the training dummies, “that’s a bit violent,” she remarked.

Zane exhaled a breath, “why so violent to the equipment,” Pixal mused.

“I’m thinking,” he replied, not looking at her directly.

“You think most times,” she uttered, “what makes this so different?”

He didn’t want to say it, mostly because he didn’t know how to bring it up. That argument, unresolved in the moment, was irrelevant now. Pixal was here, with him, why bring up that fight. Just open a small wound.

Pixal turned away with her hands behind her back, “I see you wish not to talk,” she assumed, not offended by his coldness, “I will leave you alone.”

Zane knew she wasn’t offended, but that didn’t him feel better about his actions. He straightened himself up, watching her reach the porch, “say it again,” he declared, making her straighten her back and clench her forearms, “just this once.”

It got exactly five-second: Pixal turned on her heels, looking at Zane, her husband, with a smirk. She moved her left arm from her back to her chest, her hand over her heart, he could see her wedding band on her slim finger as it shinned in the sun. She bowed before looking at him through her lashes, before breaking the routine and standing up straight while sticking her hand out to him with an open hand.

“How may I serve you,” she pondered, “Zane~”

#ninjago #pixane #pixal #zane #ninjago pixal #ninjago zane #it's so late #Loved this #your welcome #fanfiction #ninjago fanfiction #angst #fluff #romance

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tloujm · 4 years

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Part XXII: Tryna Make Me a Widow?

Author’s Notes: Last part of the honeymoon era. Back to Jackson for the newlyweds. I have some exciting plot points coming up concerning a certain canonical character, some more angst (gory) and a little love triangle may or may not happen *shrugs*

Warning: Minor gore up ahead.

Genre: A bit of angst because honeymoons aren’t always perf

Summary: You and Joel run into trouble while out and about in an attempt to enjoy each other’s company and nature. Near death experience and the couple’s first fight as a married couple.

Ship: Joel x Fem!Reader

You and Joel decided to take a leisurely hike first thing in the morning before it got too hot. He took your hand in his when the two of you left the cottage and you didn’t let go. After a while of walking through the woods, the two of you found yourselves quite a distance away from where you started. You didn't want to go any further, but Joel was compelled to follow a deer along the hillside.

You looked at Joel curiously after he suddenly stopped in his tracks. His eyes narrowed and focused in one direction. Your eyes followed his line of view to no avail. There was no deer there. As a matter of fact, there was nothing but the ordinary trees. You were about to ask him what was wrong, but he cut you off before you could even make a sound.

“Be very still.” Joel whispered to you, his eyes never moving away from that spot. It was first a slight movement in his peripheral that caught his attention. He thought it was another deer, kin to the one he was following. For the longest moment, Joel couldn’t figure out what it was that he saw, but he knew he saw something. There was no wind; it moved on its own. This knowledge caused him to let his guard up as he peered out into the distance.

“Is it another animal?” You asked in a matching whisper. Joel didn’t respond.

When it finally moved again, he was able to make out the figure. It was a person disguised against a tree trunk. As it moved again, Joel locked eyes with it; The figure knew it was caught. Swiftly, it lifted it’s bow and shot an arrow. Joel moved directly in front of you and instinctively lifted his hand to shield his face. Within seconds, the arrow pierced through his hand. The arrowhead pointed directly in front of his right eye. In a state of shock, he brought his hand down and looked at the foreign object lodged between his knuckles. The shock soon turned to aggression as he looked back up into the woods.

“Stay here and hide.” He commanded as he nodded his head in the direction of a large bush.

“Joel what---” You began to argue.

“I need to know that you’ll be safe. Now, hide!” He quickly looked at you before glaring back in the direction from which the arrow came.

You wanted to protest again when Joel ran off deeper into the woods, but you knew it’d be of no use. Strapped to his back was a scope rifle. As you crouched down next to the bushes, you wished that he would have stayed by your side and used the weapon instead.

The rush of adrenaline gave him the energy and ability to ignore the piercing pain of his wound. He pulled out his pistol as he came up on the figure. It was a man and he didn’t start running away until it was too late. Joel aimed for his leg and pulled the trigger. The strange man tripped over himself and fell, allowing for Joel to catch up. With his unwounded hand, he pistol whipped the man across the face. Blood dripped down his arm from the hole in his other hand. He didn’t hear you approach from the blood pumping through his body. You pleaded for him to stop. You knew the man who attacked the two of you needed to be stopped, but you hated seeing Joel so violent. He compromised by repositioning the gun in his hand to aim the barrel at the man’s head. He was about to shoot when he heard you walk closer to him. He turned and read the look of fear on your face. He was unsure if the fear was from him or the stranger. He only pulled his attention away from you when he began to hear the familiar sound of the infected nearby. He knew that they’d eventually find the wounded body of the stranger that attacked you both and the distraction would be welcome as the two of you escaped back to the cottage. Without hesitation, he shot the man, killing him. It was a better death than being eaten alive. He quickly took your hand in his and guided you back to the cottage.

As soon as the two of you were in the safety of the cottage, it was your turn to do the commanding. You ordered Joel to go straight to the bathroom. He looked at you confused as he watched you barricade the doors and windows. He began to help but you refused and repeated your order. He sat on the edge of the tub with an old t-shirt pressed against his wound to soak up the blood as he waited for you.

“What the fuck, Joel!” You exclaimed as you walked into the room. You sat on the toilet seat across from him and pulled out a first aid kit from under the sink. “What was that back there? We’ve only been married less than a week and you already tryna make me a widow?”

“I’m sorry, (Y/N), I’m confused at what part you’re mad at me about. Frankly, you’re not the one with an arrow lodged between their knuckles.” He retaliated. You snatched his wounded hand away from his chest and broke the tail of the arrow off to make pulling it out easier.

“You weren’t thinking---”

“I was thinking; I was thinking about you! I was thinking about how that man had a weapon aimed right at you and I only had a second to do something about it.” He glared directly at you. “Fuck!” He hissed as you pulled the arrow through his hand, leaving a small, gaping hole.

“That’s not gonna be the worst of it.” You commented under your breath as you pulled out a bottle of peroxide. “You had a scope right there! But you decided to go run after the guy? He could have killed you, do you understand that? And what if there were more of them hiding? You alone would have gone up against a group of God knows how many with one good hand? Not even your dominant one at that. All you had to do was use your scope and take the shot and that would have been it. I would have even done it for you but you were already gone. I was scared for you.” He hissed again as the liquid contacted his skin. You gave it a few seconds before cleaning his wound with a damp cloth.

He let out a sigh and nudged the pieces of broken arrow on the floor. “This would have killed you. All I want to do is protect you, (Y/N). I didn’t mean to snap at you; I just needed to make sure you were safe. I could have used the scope, but I just...I just went for it. Next thing I knew, it was too late for that.” His eyes watched your hands gingerly wrap gauze around his right hand. “I didn’t want him to get another chance to hurt you.” His voice lowered.

After you dressed his wound, you cooked dinner. Again, he tried to help, but you refused. You told him that he needed to rest, but he knew you were still upset with him. You thought about how the day had gone as the food cooked. You understood why he did what he did, but still wished he acted with his head first. You plated the food at the table and ate in relative silence.

After you cleaned up dinner, you found Joel sitting on the front porch with his rifle perched up against the house beside him. His body stiffened when he noticed you there in the doorway. Without words, you let him know you weren’t angry anymore. His eyes scanned yours for a moment before patting his thighs. You walked up and laid down on the bench with your head on his lap. His hand caressed your thigh under the fabric of the sundress you changed into.

“Do you think we’re safe enough to move the rest of the barricades?” You asked.

“Let’s leave them up until mornin’.” Joel replied. “I’m sorry, (Y/N), I mean it. I didn’t mean to scare you back there, but I can’t apologize for wanting to protect you. I’ve...I’ve lost enough in my life and I’ll be damned if I don’t do everything I can to keep what I have left safe.” You just silently soak up his words, not having the energy to respond. The two of you were quiet for a little while before he spoke up again. “What do you think about this place?”

“The cottage? It’s very nice. I love it.”

“Do you love it enough to move here?” He asked. You looked up at him but his gaze was fixed to something off in the distance. “We’d have peace and quiet and nature. With all this land, we can turn it into a ranch maybe. It’s up to you though.” He finally looked down at you.

“I love you so much for this, this nice little bubble that you made for our honeymoon. Everyday we've stayed here was peaceful, but I rather live in Jackson. That’s our home. It has everything and everybody we love.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He nodded.

“...And this cottage here just isn’t big enough to start a family in.” You commented.

He gave your thigh a gentle squeeze. “You do have a point there.” He smiled.

#The Last of Us #The Last of Us II #The Last of Us 2 #The Last of Us Part 2 #TLOU #TLOU II #Joel Miller #the last of us joel #joel x reader #joel x fem!reader #reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction #naughty dog #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction

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mountainpoem · 3 years

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Song of the Open Road by Walt Whitman

1 Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road, Healthy, free, the world before me, The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose. Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune, Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing, Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms, Strong and content I travel the open road. The earth, that is sufficient, I do not want the constellations any nearer, I know they are very well where they are, I know they suffice for those who belong to them. (Still here I carry my old delicious burdens, I carry them, men and women, I carry them with me wherever I go, I swear it is impossible for me to get rid of them, I am fill’d with them, and I will fill them in return.) 2 You road I enter upon and look around, I believe you are not all that is here, I believe that much unseen is also here. Here the profound lesson of reception, nor preference nor denial, The black with his woolly head, the felon, the diseas’d, the illiterate person, are not denied; The birth, the hasting after the physician, the beggar’s tramp, the drunkard’s stagger, the laughing party of mechanics, The escaped youth, the rich person’s carriage, the fop, the eloping couple, The early market-man, the hearse, the moving of furniture into the town, the return back from the town, They pass, I also pass, any thing passes, none can be interdicted, None but are accepted, none but shall be dear to me. 3 You air that serves me with breath to speak! You objects that call from diffusion my meanings and give them shape! You light that wraps me and all things in delicate equable showers! You paths worn in the irregular hollows by the roadsides! I believe you are latent with unseen existences, you are so dear to me. You flagg’d walks of the cities! you strong curbs at the edges! You ferries! you planks and posts of wharves! you timber-lined sides! you distant ships! You rows of houses! you window-pierc’d façades! you roofs! You porches and entrances! you copings and iron guards! You windows whose transparent shells might expose so much! You doors and ascending steps! you arches! You gray stones of interminable pavements! you trodden crossings! From all that has touch’d you I believe you have imparted to yourselves, and now would impart the same secretly to me, From the living and the dead you have peopled your impassive surfaces, and the spirits thereof would be evident and amicable with me. 4 The earth expanding right hand and left hand, The picture alive, every part in its best light, The music falling in where it is wanted, and stopping where it is not wanted, The cheerful voice of the public road, the gay fresh sentiment of the road. O highway I travel, do you say to me Do not leave me? Do you say Venture not—if you leave me you are lost? Do you say I am already prepared, I am well-beaten and undenied, adhere to me? O public road, I say back I am not afraid to leave you, yet I love you, You express me better than I can express myself, You shall be more to me than my poem. I think heroic deeds were all conceiv’d in the open air, and all free poems also, I think I could stop here myself and do miracles, I think whatever I shall meet on the road I shall like, and whoever beholds me shall like me, I think whoever I see must be happy. 5 From this hour I ordain myself loos’d of limits and imaginary lines, Going where I list, my own master total and absolute, Listening to others, considering well what they say, Pausing, searching, receiving, contemplating, Gently,but with undeniable will, divesting myself of the holds that would hold me. I inhale great draughts of space, The east and the west are mine, and the north and the south are mine. I am larger, better than I thought, I did not know I held so much goodness. All seems beautiful to me, I can repeat over to men and women You have done such good to me I would do the same to you, I will recruit for myself and you as I go, I will scatter myself among men and women as I go, I will toss a new gladness and roughness among them, Whoever denies me it shall not trouble me, Whoever accepts me he or she shall be blessed and shall bless me. 6 Now if a thousand perfect men were to appear it would not amaze me, Now if a thousand beautiful forms of women appear’d it would not astonish me. Now I see the secret of the making of the best persons, It is to grow in the open air and to eat and sleep with the earth. Here a great personal deed has room, (Such a deed seizes upon the hearts of the whole race of men, Its effusion of strength and will overwhelms law and mocks all authority and all argument against it.) Here is the test of wisdom, Wisdom is not finally tested in schools, Wisdom cannot be pass’d from one having it to another not having it, Wisdom is of the soul, is not susceptible of proof, is its own proof, Applies to all stages and objects and qualities and is content, Is the certainty of the reality and immortality of things, and the excellence of things; Something there is in the float of the sight of things that provokes it out of the soul. Now I re-examine philosophies and religions, They may prove well in lecture-rooms, yet not prove at all under the spacious clouds and along the landscape and flowing currents. Here is realization, Here is a man tallied—he realizes here what he has in him, The past, the future, majesty, love—if they are vacant of you, you are vacant of them. Only the kernel of every object nourishes; Where is he who tears off the husks for you and me? Where is he that undoes stratagems and envelopes for you and me? Here is adhesiveness, it is not previously fashion’d, it is apropos; Do you know what it is as you pass to be loved by strangers? Do you know the talk of those turning eye-balls? 7 Here is the efflux of the soul, The efflux of the soul comes from within through embower’d gates, ever provoking questions, These yearnings why are they? these thoughts in the darkness why are they? Why are there men and women that while they are nigh me the sunlight expands my blood? Why when they leave me do my pennants of joy sink flat and lank? Why are there trees I never walk under but large and melodious thoughts descend upon me? (I think they hang there winter and summer on those trees and always drop fruit as I pass;) What is it I interchange so suddenly with strangers? What with some driver as I ride on the seat by his side? What with some fisherman drawing his seine by the shore as I walk by and pause? What gives me to be free to a woman’s and man’s good-will? what gives them to be free to mine? 8 The efflux of the soul is happiness, here is happiness, I think it pervades the open air, waiting at all times, Now it flows unto us, we are rightly charged. Here rises the fluid and attaching character, The fluid and attaching character is the freshness and sweetness of man and woman, (The herbs of the morning sprout no fresher and sweeter every day out of the roots of themselves, than it sprouts fresh and sweet continually out of itself.) Toward the fluid and attaching character exudes the sweat of the love of young and old, From it falls distill’d the charm that mocks beauty and attainments, Toward it heaves the shuddering longing ache of contact. 9 Allons! whoever you are come travel with me! Traveling with me you find what never tires. The earth never tires, The earth is rude, silent, incomprehensible at first, Nature is rude and incomprehensible at first, Be not discouraged, keep on, there are divine things well envelop’d, I swear to you there are divine things more beautiful than words can tell. Allons! we must not stop here, However sweet these laid-up stores, however convenient this dwelling we cannot remain here, However shelter’d this port and however calm these waters we must not anchor here, However welcome the hospitality that surrounds us we are permitted to receive it but a little while. 10 Allons! the inducements shall be greater, We will sail pathless and wild seas, We will go where winds blow, waves dash, and the Yankee clipper speeds by under full sail. Allons! with power, liberty, the earth, the elements, Health, defiance, gayety, self-esteem, curiosity; Allons! from all formules! From your formules, O bat-eyed and materialistic priests. The stale cadaver blocks up the passage—the burial waits no longer. Allons! yet take warning! He traveling with me needs the best blood, thews, endurance, None may come to the trial till he or she bring courage and health, Come not here if you have already spent the best of yourself, Only those may come who come in sweet and determin’d bodies, No diseas’d person, no rum-drinker or venereal taint is permitted here. (I and mine do not convince by arguments, similes, rhymes, We convince by our presence.) 11 Listen! I will be honest with you, I do not offer the old smooth prizes, but offer rough new prizes, These are the days that must happen to you: You shall not heap up what is call’d riches, You shall scatter with lavish hand all that you earn or achieve, You but arrive at the city to which you were destin’d, you hardly settle yourself to satisfaction before you are call’d by an irresistible call to depart, You shall be treated to the ironical smiles and mockings of those who remain behind you, What beckonings of love you receive you shall only answer with passionate kisses of parting, You shall not allow the hold of those who spread their reach’d hands toward you. 12 Allons! after the great Companions, and to belong to them! They too are on the road—they are the swift and majestic men—they are the greatest women, Enjoyers of calms of seas and storms of seas, Sailors of many a ship, walkers of many a mile of land, Habituès of many distant countries, habituès of far-distant dwellings, Trusters of men and women, observers of cities, solitary toilers, Pausers and contemplators of tufts, blossoms, shells of the shore, Dancers at wedding-dances, kissers of brides, tender helpers of children, bearers of children, Soldiers of revolts, standers by gaping graves, lowerers-down of coffins, Journeyers over consecutive seasons, over the years, the curious years each emerging from that which preceded it, Journeyers as with companions, namely their own diverse phases, Forth-steppers from the latent unrealized baby-days, Journeyers gayly with their own youth, journeyers with their bearded and well-grain’d manhood, Journeyers with their womanhood, ample, unsurpass’d, content, Journeyers with their own sublime old age of manhood or womanhood, Old age, calm, expanded, broad with the haughty breadth of the universe, Old age, flowing free with the delicious near-by freedom of death. 13 Allons! to that which is endless as it was beginningless, To undergo much, tramps of days, rests of nights, To merge all in the travel they tend to, and the days and nights they tend to, Again to merge them in the start of superior journeys, To see nothing anywhere but what you may reach it and pass it, To conceive no time, however distant, but what you may reach it and pass it, To look up or down no road but it stretches and waits for you, however long but it stretches and waits for you, To see no being, not God’s or any, but you also go thither, To see no possession but you may possess it, enjoying all without labor or purchase, abstracting the feast yet not abstracting one particle of it, To take the best of the farmer’s farm and the rich man’s elegant villa, and the chaste blessings of the well-married couple, and the fruits of orchards and flowers of gardens, To take to your use out of the compact cities as you pass through, To carry buildings and streets with you afterward wherever you go, To gather the minds of men out of their brains as you encounter them, to gather the love out of their hearts, To take your lovers on the road with you, for all that you leave them behind you, To know the universe itself as a road, as many roads, as roads for traveling souls. All parts away for the progress of souls, All religion, all solid things, arts, governments—all that was or is apparent upon this globe or any globe, falls into niches and corners before the procession of souls along the grand roads of the universe. Of the progress of the souls of men and women along the grand roads of the universe, all other progress is the needed emblem and sustenance. Forever alive, forever forward, Stately, solemn, sad, withdrawn, baffled, mad, turbulent, feeble, dissatisfied, Desperate, proud, fond, sick, accepted by men, rejected by men, They go! they go! I know that they go, but I know not where they go, But I know that they go toward the best—toward something great. Whoever you are, come forth! or man or woman come forth! You must not stay sleeping and dallying there in the house, though you built it, or though it has been built for you. Out of the dark confinement! out from behind the screen! It is useless to protest, I know all and expose it. Behold through you as bad as the rest, Through the laughter, dancing, dining, supping, of people, Inside of dresses and ornaments, inside of those wash’d and trimm’d faces, Behold a secret silent loathing and despair. No husband, no wife, no friend, trusted to hear the confession, Another self, a duplicate of every one, skulking and hiding it goes, Formless and wordless through the streets of the cities, polite and bland in the parlors, In the cars of railroads, in steamboats, in the public assembly, Home to the houses of men and women, at the table, in the bedroom, everywhere, Smartly attired, countenance smiling, form upright, death under the breast-bones, hell under the skull-bones, Under the broadcloth and gloves, under the ribbons and artificial flowers, Keeping fair with the customs, speaking not a syllable of itself, Speaking of any thing else but never of itself. 14 Allons! through struggles and wars! The goal that was named cannot be countermanded. Have the past struggles succeeded? What has succeeded? yourself? your nation? Nature? Now understand me well—it is provided in the essence of things that from any fruition of success, no matter what, shall come forth something to make a greater struggle necessary. My call is the call of battle, I nourish active rebellion, He going with me must go well arm’d, He going with me goes often with spare diet, poverty, angry enemies, desertions. 15 Allons! the road is before us! It is safe—I have tried it—my own feet have tried it well—be not detain’d! Let the paper remain on the desk unwritten, and the book on the shelf unopen’d! Let the tools remain in the workshop! let the money remain unearn’d! Let the school stand! mind not the cry of the teacher! Let the preacher preach in his pulpit! let the lawyer plead in the court, and the judge expound the law. Camerado, I give you my hand! I give you my love more precious than money, I give you myself before preaching or law; Will you give me yourself? will you come travel with me? Shall we stick by each other as long as we live?

#song of the open road #walt whitman #poem #poetry #travel #freedom #free #love #beauty #go

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andrewmoocow · 3 years

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Steven Universe Alternate Future chapter 11: In Dreams (originally posted on March 29, 2021)

AN: Hope you all packed your bags dear readers, cause we're gonna go on a real trip. One of my initial ideas for Alternate Future was with the addition as Aquamarine as a more major antagonist, we'd also have a mini-character arc about Peridot blaming herself for Steven's capture at the end of Season 4 even years later, which I felt was kind of a waste of possible character development for the little nacho. Regardless, it's time I finally see it through myself. And trust me, I'm really gonna put Peri through the wringer.

Synopsis: Steven's dream powers start acting up when he and Peridot want to watch TV.

Cast:

Zach Callison as Steven, Stefan

Shelby Rabara as Peridot

Johnny Hawkes as Cookie Cat, Rodrigo

Marieve Hernington as Jasmine

Della Saba as Marine, Aquamarine

The night was dark as Steven strolled through Beach City on his way home after a long day until he heard music. Racing to the beach house, he discovered that colorful flashing lights and loud music were coming from inside the house, and that got him super excited.

"All right!" Steven gasped cheerfully. "Now that I've saved the universe, I finally get to party!" When he raced to his front window, Steven could see all his friends inside dancing the night away. Garnet, Amethyst & Pearl, Lars and the Off-Colors, Lapis, Bismuth & Peridot, Connie, even Onion was breaking it down. Before he could join the fun, however, the door and windows suddenly vanished, leaving behind an empty wooden wall. "Huh? Hey guys, let me in! This isn't funny!"

"STEVEN!" a booming voice echoed from above. When Steven looked up, he discovered that Obsidian's head was replaced with a giant Cookie Cat looking down on him with a taunting grin. "NOBODY NEEDS YOUR HELP! SO WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE?!"

"What?!" Steven cried before the porch opened up like a trap door under him, forcing the boy to fall through the sky screaming.

"STEVEN! STEVEN!"

A little voice broke Steven out of slumber and back into the real world in his bedroom. "Why do I keep having these dreams?" he mused to himself. "Are they telling me something?"

"STEVEN, OPEN UP!" the voice cried out while pounding on the door.

"Peridot?" Steven began to recognize the green Gem's nasally voice as he walked downstairs and let the former Kindergartener in.

"STEVEN STEVEN STEVEN STEVEN!" Peridot chanted, beetling in place while holding popcorn and drinks. "Today's the big day! Did you tape the premiere?!"

"What premiere? I have no idea what you're talking about." Steven said coyly.

"But you promised me!" Peridot whined, not realizing that her half-organic friend might be joking.

"Oh, you mean the premiere of the reboot of the classic Great North teen camping drama Camp Pining Hearts that I recorded," Steven revealed as he pulled out a VHS tape. "on this very tape?"

Peridot gasped at the mere mention of the show she had awaited for so long and began squealing excitedly. "Yes, it's finally here!"

"THE RETURN OF CAMP PINING HEARTS!" the pair declared joyfully.

Steven and Peridot raced upstairs to watch the Camp Pining Hearts reboot when Steven realized someone was missing. "Hey, where's Lapis? I thought she was a big fan of CPH as you are."

"Oh, she declined to attend our viewing because she feels this reboot will be an abomination." Peridot answered as she sat down at the foot of Steven's bed. "You know that United Defenders of the World show? She really likes that too, and that's gotten a reboot much like Camp Pining Hearts, but she doesn't like how that is so dark and depressing because apparently, it's more adult. I mean, come on! Can't we go one minute without any intense violence or Mangolin yelling so many nasty wo-"

"What, she's not coming because one show clouds her judgment of another?" Steven rolled his eyes at Peridot's explanation while putting the tape into his VHS player. "That's a little silly. But I'm glad you were still able to come because I've been having these weird dreams lately. Like, are any of them real or-"

"That's not important Steven!" Peridot shut her fellow fan's mouth. "Now press play already you monster!"

Steven chuckled for a bit before he started the tape, and the theme song for the Camp Pining Hearts reboot began to play while two attractive young actors were credited for the roles of its leads, Jasmine and Rodrigo. Steven excitedly ate popcorn while Peridot waved a Great North flag around as the show began.

Fifty-two minutes later, the credits finally rolled, and Steven & Peridot were left stunned, silent, and disappointed.

"L-Lapis warned me, and I didn't listen." Peridot quivered in shock.

"W-what?" Steven added, just as horrified. "What…."

"WHAT HAVE THEY DONE?!" the pair roared in unison.

"What is with that Rodrigo guy?!" Peridot began complaining and clawing at her face. "He has no charisma! He is clearly inferior to the old cast!"

"And can we just talk about the cinematography?" Steven added just as furiously while Peridot got up and marched towards the TV.

"They changed all the characters, and I don't care about any one of them!" Peridot threw a tantrum and began venting by picking up the set & slamming it to the ground. "How could this happen to us?!" she began to cry her eyes out on the television. "Camp Pining Hearts was my escape when I first arrived on Earth, when my whole world was nothing but chaos!"

"CPH brought us all together." Steven comforted his green friend, though he was sobbing as well.

"And now, just look at this nightmare!" Peridot yelled with a hand to the TV screen when it stopped showing the Camp Pining Hearts reboot. Instead, it began playing Steven's dream from last night. "Wait, Steven, when were you ever an actor?"

"What? No, they didn't!" Steven exclaimed as the dream continued on television. "Is this my dreams?" When Steven watched himself fall from the beach house in his dream, the TV then switched back to Camp Pining Hearts. "Whoa! My dream powers must be messing with the TV signal!"

"How in the world is that even possible?!" Peridot raised an eyebrow at this revelation, but it also gave her an idea. "Wait just a second. Steven, you realize what this means?!"

"I should start wearing a tinfoil hat?" Steven asked, unaware of what the little genius had planned.

"No!" Peridot answered. "If we use your dream powers on the TV, we can make our own Camp Pining Hearts! We'll reboot the reboot!"

"Reboot the reboot?" Steven realized and excitedly stood up. "Peridot, you're a genius!"

"I know." Peridot smugly declared.

"Plus, it would be really fun to fix something small this time." Steven said before Peridot wrapped a lime-colored arm around his neck.

"This shall be the beginning of Peridot & Steven Productions!" Peridot triumphantly declared.

"Yeah!" Steven added, and then he fell from Peridot's grasp.

Later that day, Steven and Peridot were now standing in front of a whiteboard detailing all their plans for fixing the Camp Pining Hearts Reboot, bouncing more plans off each other in regards to shipping.

"So Peridot, you think Jasmine's endgame should be Khaz or Rodrigo?" Steven asked Peridot while looking at a web of pictures of the characters from the reboot.

"It seems the characters are trying to railroad us into a Jasrigo relationship, despite turning everyone else into complete jerks just because they don't agree with-" Peridot began, but then she started getting irritated. "Gah, these characters have no chemistry together! It's like they're being shipped just because they're the leading man and woman!"

"Just can't get into Rodrigo, eh?" Steven asked his writing partner.

"He's just so passive and quiet, it's positively irritating!" Peridot yelled. "He has none of the old cast's personalities that made them so memorable!"

"Sure he may be really quiet and soft," Steven assured Peridot. "but what if we try to do something with his social anxiety and peanut allergy despite them not being connected to the larger story, like make him a foil?"

"A foil, you say?" Peridot raised an eyebrow at Steven's idea. "Okay, I'm listening."

"I got it!" Steven declared before he sat down in front of some pencils and paper and began to draw. "I call him Stefan." He began explaining while drawing. "He's a hunky lifeguard friend with nice muscles that everyone likes and wants to hang out with. His popularity is both a blessing and a curse, yet always makes time to help his buddy Rodrigo boost his confidence." He handed his final drawing over to Peridot, which turned out to be a sketch of a more muscular Steven.

"So he's like your self-insert!" Peridot beamed at her friend's work. "I like your ideas, Stefan!"

As night fell, Steven got back into bed with a bowl of chili in his lap while Peridot inserted the tape into the VCR player.

"Uh, why are you eating at bedtime?" Peridot questioned Steven's choice of a bedtime meal.

"Oh, you mean my chili?" Steven replied, gesturing to the chili in his hands. "I read that eating spicy stuff before bed makes your dreams super vivid."

"I appreciate your initiative, fellow creator." Peridot grinned at Steven's idea while he continued eating his chili.

"Thanks, Peridot." Steven thanked Peridot before putting the bowl on his nightstand and tucking himself in. "Okay, good night."

"Good night Steven. But remember," Peridot said as she started whispering into Steven's ear. "action-orientated storytelling."

"Hey Jasmine, I hear you love birds." A tanned, muscular version of Steven said flirtatiously to a cute brown-haired girl examining a bird perched in her hand.

"Sure Stefan." Jasmine giggled cutely.

"Well, a little birdie told me downstream that there's a special island somewhere 'round here." Stefan replied, leaning against a tree and giving Jasmine a wink while pointing offscreen. "I hear it's full of rare specimens."

"Did you hear that?" Jasmine gasped elatedly. "Thank you so much Stefan!" Stefan responded by giving Jasmine another wink.

Meanwhile, Rodrigo was by himself at a campsite reading an instructional book on how to date when Stefan came racing to him.

"Rodrigo, I've got terrible news!" Stefan exclaimed, catching Rodrigo's attention. "Jasmine's in danger!"

"Wait, what?!" Rodrigo did a double-take in response.

"She's headed for that island full of dangerous birds!" Stefan revealed, propping one foot on a rock and dramatically pointing to the river nearby. "But if we go downstream, we can surely save her!"

"Okay Stefan, you're the best!" Rodrigo shouted. "Let's go save Jasmine!"

The pair raced for a pair of canoes docked close to the campsite and began rowing through the river to rescue Jasmine.

"Thanks for telling me Jasmine was in trouble Stefan, you're such a great guy." Rodrigo complimented Stefan.

"You're welcome Rodrigo." Stefan replied gratefully. "You're pretty great yourself, y'know, great enough for Jasmine to like you."

"You really mean it?" Rodrigo asked eagerly.

"I can tell by the way she looks at," Stefan began, but then he started getting sidetracked by Blue Diamond with the body of a dolphin, a gargantuan pineapple with Yellow Diamond's face on it, and a pair of White Diamond's feet right next to the fruit. "you? Huh?"

"Stefan, is something the matter?" Rodrigo asked Stefan, or rather Steven, who had now replaced Stefan in the dream.

"Oh no, not again!" Steven began panicking as he started to glow pink yet again, not knowing how things ended up like this.

As Steven woke up in his bed, he found Peridot standing at the side of his bed, looking very excited at how the experiment went.

"Oh my stars Steven, you did it!" Peridot cheered excitedly. "You just fell asleep and started turning pink, which started happening in the dream! Here, I'll show you!" She then ran over to the TV and began playing Steven's dream again. "Our script, our story, it's on the television and it's wonderful!" she kept on praising. "Not sure what you were going for with that bizarre imagery towards the end but I'll admit, seeing Yellow Diamond's face on a pineapple made me laugh."

Amid Peridot's eagerness, however, Steven then started to get drowsy again.

"Steven, are you okay?" Peridot asked with concern.

"Sorry Peri, just feeling a little off." Steven assured her. "Maybe eating that chili wasn't a great idea."

"Yeah yeah, don't believe everything you read online and all that." Peridot japed. "We got none of the money in the world, and all the time in our hands. Hey, I've got a great idea of my own! Picture this, a mysterious young woman with a teardrop tattoo on her face arrives at the camp because she wants to kidnap Stefan for her own dark designs. But before she can succeed, Pierre from the original Camp Pining Hearts comes in to save the day!"

"Uh, okay then." Steven replied awkwardly while trying to make himself comfortable. "But you're right, let's pull off a do-over. We can try as many times as we want until we get it right."

"Less talking, more sleeping." Peridot pushed a star-shaped pillow into Steven's chest and forced him onto his mattress before pulling his eyelids down.

Every time Steven went to sleep, he was back to canoeing with Rodrigo to rescue Jasmine. And every time, Rodrigo was replaced in his canoes by some very unexpected characters.

The first time this happened, Rodrigo was suddenly replaced by Dogcopter, of all things. As Dogcopter flew off using the propeller on his back, Stefan reached out to the flying canine before Steven awakened with bags under his eyes.

The second time, Rodrigo's place was taken by Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl. The three Gems then flew away from Stefan just like Dogcopter did, and Stefan cried out for them before Steven woke up yet again, and the bags were starting to get darker.

The third time, Rodrigo didn't disappear. Instead, he started getting more unnerved as Spinel's massive Injector was present in the background, and Stefan was suddenly replaced with Steven as a baby.

Suddenly, a young woman with a teardrop tattoo on her face, just like what Peridot had described, snatched the baby Steven from the canoe with a maniacal laugh before Pierre, who now looked like he had green-lensed glasses and triangular hair, boldly stepped in and stood up to the woman.

Steven once again woke up, his baggy eyes now at their darkest, while Peridot just sighed in defeat.

The next morning, Steven sat down to some cereal and milk in the kitchen when Peridot suddenly appeared with a big stack of papers in front of her. "Uh, what's all this?"

"I've concluded that a script just wasn't working!" Peridot proudly announced. "So I've decided to take a more visual approach and made a whole series of storyboards for us to use! Besides, I've seen tons of cartoons use more storyboards than scripts, for better or for worse."

"You made all of these in one night?' Steven gasped in amazement at the triangular Gem's feat while looking through the storyboards.

"Duh, I'm good at everything!" Peridot bragged. "Now please study these in preparation for tonight."

"Hey, I got a question." Steven said while putting out one of the storyboards that featured the same tattooed woman from his dream. "Who's this girl, and why does Pierre look so much like you now?"

"Uh, that's Marine, Pierre's new arch-foe!" Peridot answered, awkwardly twiddling her fingers and looking in every conceivable direction. "She is totally not based on anyone we've met before."

"Are you sure?" Steven asked suspiciously while flicking through more storyboards featuring Marine. "Cause her haircut and location of her tattoo kinda reminds me of Aq-" Suddenly, he stopped to discover a new storyboard of Stefan having a romantic moment with Jasmine. "Wait, why is Stefan kissing Jasmine?"

"It's perfect!" Peridot yelled eagerly. "Right as Rodrigo is about to save Stefan from this reverse damsel in distress situation, he discovers that Jasmine got to him first, and they're already kissing too! Imagine, Jasmine defying gender clichés to save Stefan, unaware that they're stroking the fires of Rodrigo's jealousy!"

"I can't do Rodrigo this dirty!" Steven objected to the idea. "It's not only a betrayal of the friendship we gave him and Stefan, but it's also poor romantic drama too!"

"Whoa, take it easy Steven, they're just characters. No need to become so addicted to their love lives!" Peridot tried to excuse herself. "This is a story, and a good story needs conflict!"

"No, I still don't want to do this!" Steven declared angrily, startling Peridot before she came to an understanding.

"Look Steven, I can see you're pretty worn out from last night." Peridot said sadly as she began to get up and walk away. "Let's just scrap the whole project."

"What?" Steven replied in shock.

"There's really no point in continuing if it stresses you out that much." Peridot sighed as she grabbed the door handle. "Besides, I got classes to teach at Little Homeworld anyway."

But when Peridot was close to opening the front door and leaving the house, a flash of pink convinced Steven to change his mind. "No, wait!" he exclaimed, stopping the little Gem in her tracks. "I'll do the scene."

"Really?!" Peridot turned back with a cute smile and stars in her eyes.

"Anything to make you happy." Steven replied wearily. Though he was happy that Peridot was happy, he let out a heavy sigh as he was forced to put his friends before himself yet again.

"Oh no, that dastardly Marine has Stefan captured!" Rodrigo cried as he quickly rowed downstream to save his dear friend. "Jasmine said she's going to help him, but I haven't heard from her since!"

But just as Rodrigo finished his sentence, he finally found Stefan and Jasmine safe from harm, while Marine was left tied up beside them.

"You won't get away with this Stefan!" Marine yelled before she noticed Rodrigo, and had another fiendish idea in the works. "Hey Rodrigo, look! Your best friend's a cheater!"

"What?!" Rodrigo exclaimed, staring straight at Stefan and Jasmine kissing passionately. "Stefan, how could you?!"

"Rodrigo, this isn't what it looks like!" Stefan cried to Rodrigo in Steven's voice, but he wasn't there. And neither were Jasmine and Marine. And right before Stefan was a very angry-looking Connie. "Connie?"

Suddenly, Connie began to grow into the size of a giant and then turned into Obsidian. Stefan meanwhile was turned back into Steven as the Connie-Obsidian hybrid raised a foot and lowered it to crush him.

Steven then woke up in his old room wearing his old pajamas. Just like in the real world, Peridot remained by his side watching the television, but she was eerily silent, a far cry from her usual smug and loud yet cheerful nature.

"Peridot, my dreams are going nuts!" Steven informed Peridot while getting out of bed and walking over to her. "First everyone disappeared, then Jasmine turned into Connie, and she tried to squish me which is how I ended up here!" However, Peridot said nothing and continued facing the television. "Peridot?" Steven asked as he grabbed the green Gem's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

When Steven turned Peridot to face him, her visor and gem were now filled with SMPTE color bars and her expression showed no emotion at all. Steven's old bedroom abruptly vanished, and his PJs turned into his normal clothes as he noticed Peridot emotionlessly marching towards the beach house from the dream he woke up from the previous day. "Peridot!"

"Oh, poor little Steven." A familiar bratty voice called to Steven as he chased after Peridot. From the clouds came Aquamarine, still as haughty as ever and now in possession of her wand once more. "Don't you see? It's all her fault that I kidnapped you, that you had to learn all those horrible things about your mother! And yet not once did her blatant betrayal ever come up again."

"You don't know Peridot like I do, you little twerp!" Steven yelled at Aquamarine as he gained on Peridot, who was about to open the front door. "She's changed ever since we first met. She once tried to kill me like every other Gem who's ever antagonized me, but now she's become so sweet and funny!"

"Oh please, just because you like her now doesn't mean you should completely forget about all the ways she's harmed you." Aquamarine taunted before she restrained Steven with a tractor beam, but his iron will allowed him to resist as he tried to stop Peridot.

"Please Peri, don't go in there!" Steven strained from resisting the tractor beam and reached out to Peridot. "I still really want to hang out with you!" Just then, the floor disappeared beneath Steven and Peridot just like in the earlier dream. Peridot seemingly floated in midair while Steven leaped to the edge of the porch and continued reaching out to her, as the front of the house turned into color bars as well. "We always had something to fix together! The Cluster, the Diamonds, Spinel, but I don't know how I can be anyone's friend without something to fix!"

"Why can't you just surrender already?!" Aquamarine yelled as she tried to reel Steven in like a fish. "Your suffering is all because of her, and she's felt so worthless because of you!" Unfortunately for her, the tractor beam broke and the small, flying Gem was catapulted away from the pair. "We'll meet again brat!"

"I-I just can't do it anymore!" Steven cried to Peridot, unaware of the dream version of Aquamarine's failure to catch him. "I'm just so tired, and now I'm even trying to fix something in my dreams!" He soon started to cry as he got closer to Peridot. "I'm sorry I can't do this for you! Just please don't leave me!"

Peridot remained stoic as Steven kept on grasping for her. "Don't…leave."

The dream ended just like a VHS tape being removed from a VCR before a muffled voice began calling for Steven.

"Steven? Steven!"

Steven was suddenly shook awake with tears in his eyes, and he discovered Peridot leaning over him crying just as much.

"I saw everything Steven, and yes, it is true!" Peridot admitted sorrowfully. "A good reason why I was using your dreams is because I never got over how you were kidnapped because of me! I was so worried the other Gems would declare me a traitor, but they never bothered to bring it up. You know what, we don't have to do this anymore!" Steven then gave her a tight hug. "I don't care about the show anymore, or Rodrigo especially! I just want what's best for you! I'm such a clod!"

"It's okay Dottie, it's okay." Steven comforted his green pal. "I kind of knew something was up when you first mentioned Marine and Pierre, but I didn't know you've bottling this up for so long."

"I know, it's so unhealthy of me." Peridot wept. "I just needed something to vent with, so that's why I wanted to spend time with you. It's okay if you don't want an excuse to hang out anymore."

"But I do want to keep hanging out." Steven assured Peridot. "With or without all this trauma. We're friends, right?"

"I guess you're right." Peridot smiled sadly.

"You still want to watch CPH together," Steven offered. "even if it's terrible?"

In response, Peridot took off her visor and began wiping some tears, shedding the mask she had kept up for her entire stay. "Of course."

"How could you lie to me like this Rodrigo?!" Jasmine yelled crossly at her love interest while Steven and Peridot laughed as it all went down. "I bet you just can't help being an awful person!"

"You just buried a dead body Jasmine, and you're getting mad at Rodrigo for cheating at cards?!" Peridot cackled, pounding her fist on the floor. "Some protagonist you turned out to be! Oh my stars, this show is the worst!"

"This show is the best." Steven smiled contently before the pair leaned up against each other with smiles on their faces.

Like I said, wasted opportunity for more Peridot development. And yes my friends, that United Defenders of the World show was a total middle finger to dark & edgy teen drama reboots of family-friendly properties with fans of all ages. It happened to Archie, it happened to Winx Club and it's even gonna happen to the Powerpuff Girls soon. But I'm getting off topic, this was a pretty fun chapter to write since I love Peridot so much and she has an incredible dynamic with Steven. Speaking of green Gems, next chapter goes into original territory once again as we finally shine a light on a corrupted Gem that's seemingly been erased from existence come Future. That's right Nephrite, come on down!

#steven universe #steven universe future #fanfiction #steven universe alternate future #steven quartz universe #peridot

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bearsinpotatosacks · 4 years

Text

Why Lose Hope?- Chapter 2

Chapter 1 , Part 1 of the All the Little Things Seem so Insignificant Now Series

Jim ran from the transporter, his crew behind him as he raced to reach the bridge. The transporter itself being broken from the strain of trying to deliver seven people to another universe.

He slid in his chair and lent forwards as if it would bring him closer to Bones. They'd somehow managed to get an image on the two versions of him in that universe and had been watching them for the entire ten hours he'd been gone.

It was bittersweet watching him. Bones' smiles were sour and his movements freaked from the weight of the possibility he may never go home. Yet he carried on. He cared for Leonard, for the animals and crops all while telling tales of his universe, his ship all those miles away.

"Scotty, tell me you've got some good news,"

"Well, Captain, it's fixable but it'll take an hour minimum," The pain was obvious in his voice. "The most you could do is watch for the time being,"

"Thank you, Mr Scott,"

He knew what that meant for Bones, another year until he could see anyone he loved again. Although he had spent the entire time with the other Leonard McCoy, perhaps he loved him? Did it count as self love when it was an alternate version of himself?

It had only been a few seconds for them, but when he looked back at the screen,a week had already passed. Spock had done the calculations, a year for them is an hour on the ship, a month is five minutes and one and a quarter minutes was a week.

Leo, their Bones, was sitting on the porch covered in a blanket. He'd taken ill quickly, their hypotheses had been that a planet with worse technology than they had, even regressing back before the third world war, would be less equipped to handle severe illnesses.

Leonard was sitting on the other side of the table with half a scarf hanging off his knitting needles. He was talking about something to do with their farm when Leo broke the calm, coughing and spluttering.

"Here," He handed him a glass of water. "Take a nice long drink and you'll be fine,"

Leo did as he was told and lent back in his chair, face a little paler from the exertion of his remaining energy. The weather had changed rapidly in the time he'd been away, everywhere was blue skies and sunshine.

"How about I give you something to take your mind off things?" Leonard asked, only getting a grunt from Leo. "When did you meet your Jim?"

The crew all turned to face him. Uhura giving an amused glance, Spock something actually questioning and everyone else seemingly on the verge of rolling their eyes.

"When d'you meet yours?"

"It was 2255, I was working on a starbase somewhere, a medicine focused one, and I rush over to see a young man, six years younger than me, trying to escape with an IV line in, bandages on, nasal cannula and osteocalcium cream on his legs. He was also on the verge of passing out and was politely yelling at the guard to let him leave," He looked at Leo. "That was when I met James T. Kirk,"

"Sounds pretty on brand for him," Jim tried not to be hurt by that statement, even if he knew it was true.

"I saw him pretty much every day for about eight months, he was recovering from a serious injury involving radiation, an explosion and some angry octosquidarians. Became quite a good friend of mine even when he got transferred out of the ICU. He left, of course, everybody did on that starbase, yet we still managed to keep in touch and when he had his own ship and needed a CMO, well there was only one man for the job," He said and smiled to himself.

There was something about his age, his grey hair and wrinkles that made his smile more heartfelt. Perhaps it was the knowledge that he'd had more years with his Jim, more loving moments and annoying mishaps. He had nostalgia in his eyes as he sighed and turned to Leo.

"How'd'ya meet your Jim?"

"On a shuttle to Starfleet Academy, I was being forced out of my place in the bathroom-"

"Bathroom?"

"I have aviophobia," He nestled into the blankets further. "Jim's face was covered in blood, he'd been in a fight, and I was kind of drunk and spouted all the ways we could die on the thing and how my wife took everything. Then when we landed I found out he was in the same student apartment as me,"

"He was little shit most of the time, but he's also my best friend and the love of my life,"

He stopped and stared out for a moment. Jim was glad, he couldn't take it anymore. It had only been a few hours without him but he knew it had been so much longer for Bones.

Part of him wondered while they were waiting for the transporter modifications if he'd even love him anymore. Ten years could change a lot in a person, he would know. He went into town and could've easily fell in love with a local, but he didn't. He still loved him and he still loved Spock.

Speaking of which, the other Leonard asked their Bones another question, "When did you realise you loved your Spock?"

"You remember how I had to resurrect Jim?"

Leonard nodded.

"Well, with Spock being a scientist in multiple fields, he could help me in making the serum. He took my place when I was on the verge of collapse from fatigue or hunger or emotion, and I ain't told anyone this, but I meditated with him on the little time I had off and it actually helped,"

Jim smiled at Spock at the image of the two. Bones probably complained that it was useless for an overthinker like him or about the sitting positions being too convoluted for his old joints. Spock had suggested they all meditate together, one of the few couple activities Vulcans were known to do.

"And when Jim woke up and I couldn't handle the pressure of caring for him and the tabloids calling me Dr. Frankenstein and the looks from all the other doctors and pharmacists and every other medic in the hospital. So Spock listened as I ranted and cried and-" He stopped and took a few deep breaths. "And I realised, oh shit, I think I'm falling for him,"

"Well that's very romantic. When did you tell Jim?"

"There was a mission involving loss, they made us see supposed ghosts of people we lost and Spock was determined to say he wasn't affected. But Jim invited him over and after a few hours of awkward silences and denying the connection we were feeling, we admitted our feelings to each other,"

"How about you?" He said.

"Spock had a thing, a Vulcan thing that meant he had to go home-"

"Pon farr?"

Leonard nodded, "Things happened, to survive we had to fake Jim's death, Spock didn't know but when he realised he was alive they finally admitted their feelings for each other. Unfortunately for me I realised I loved the bastards," He carried on knitting with a little more ferocity. "It wasn't until we found a giant space amoeba and Spock won our 'Who's going to sacrifice themselves for the sake of science argument' that I realised I should've told him,"

He chuckled to himself, "Well, we managed to save him, of course, and I took that as a sign and told them they had my heart. And apart from a little bump after the five year mission, we ain't never looked back,"

Jim and Spock smiled at each other. They'd visited Ambassador Spock and willed him to tell them his stories like children on Pesach. About peaceful Sunday mornings when he'd meditate and they'd secretly watch their Leonard get ready for church. And about many trips to Vulcan where the Ambassador would show them off like trophy husbands.

They could tell he missed his Jim and Bones, a nostalgic look always distant in his eyes and his house filled with the various photos and videos he kept on his PADD when he went through the black hole.

At the time, they didn't understand what that felt like, to miss someone with every fibre of your soul. But after watching their Bones survive years and years alone without them, they realised how strangely comforting such an ache was.

The screen in front of them sped up as time drifted on. Relative as ever. Jim took a deep breath as Yeoman Rand handed everyone coffee and settled back in his chair for a long few hours.

I've managed to put a few headcanons of mine into this, like old married mcspirk's habit of Spock meditating, Bones getting ready for church and Jim smiling goofily as he watches his husband get dressed in his sunday best. Also I made up a few things for TOS Mckirk's meeting but the main idea I got from memory alpha is that Jim got hurt in his pre-captain days and met Bones. I would very much like to see this meeting somehow.

This fic will get weirder quite quickly and the schedule I think I might go with is one chapter in the farm universe, one in one of the crew's universe's, back to the farm universe and one in the other crew's universe.

And finally, I added Yeoman Rand! I'm very much in the camp of "I'll add all the recurring characters in tos into aos because someone (JJ Abrams) didn't" so I hope you enjoyed her cameo!

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aurorapillar · 4 years

Text

Title: i swear that i loved you

Fandom: The Mechanisms

Characters: Jonny d’Ville, Billy Vangelis, One-Eyed Jack, Doctor Carmilla, The Aurora

Summary: Small moments in Jonny's life with the people who could be considered his family

Jonathan Vangelis flinched at the sound of the front door slamming open echoed through the house, his heart speeding up as he listened to his father’s footsteps coming down the hall. He knew the man had been at One Eyed Jack’s casino again, and from the apparent anger in his steps it was doubtful he’d had a winning hand.

Jonathan felt anger rising in his throat at the very thought of the money his father had probably lost. He was the one having to repay the man’s debts by working for Jack, and yet he kept on racking them up. He could be remorseful about it at times, sometimes on the rare occasions when Billy Vangelis was actually sober, he’d tearfully apologize for being a terrible father and putting such a burden on his son’s shoulders. Whether there was any truth in those words though, Jonathan didn’t know; despite his apparent regret, his father never tried to stop gambling.

It was possible, of course, that his father didn’t know exactly what kind of work Jack had him doing; but Jonathan doubted it. No matter how drunk the man frequently was, it would be hard to miss the stains on his clothes or the way he’d desperately scrub at his hands in an attempt to get the blood out from under his nails.

“Boy! Why is there no food?” His father’s slurred shout as he stomped into the room was loud enough that the neighbors probably heard it, and Jonathan quickly jumped to his feet and scrambled backwards so that their old ratty couch was between him and the man. There was little way to predicate how volatile his father would act each time he got home, and he wanted to make sure he had a head start on escaping if he needed to.

“There’s no money for it.” He informed his father, slowly inching his way further backwards, he was ready to bolt the moment a hand was so much as raised. “You keep gambling it all away.”

A furious expression arose on Billy Vangelis’s face and Jonathan began reaching behind his back for the door handle, ready to run out into the night any second.

“What’s the point of you working for Jack if you’re not bringing home any money?” He demanded and Jonathan could do nothing but stare at him in shock.

“My work,” He began, speaking slowly and enunciating each word, “Is paying off your debts to him, there is no extra money coming in. Perhaps if you would stop wasting your time betting away everything we own, there would be.” He regretted the words as soon they left his mouth, saw his father begin to step forward and quickly ripped the door behind him open and dashed out of it.

The night was pitch black, but the dark road he ran along was one he’d travelled plenty of times before on previous nights. He wasn’t really sure where he was going, sometimes he had to just stay outside for hours until his father had gone to bed, while other times one of the neighbors would spot him and let him crash on their porch with a blanket.

He both hated and was grateful for those times, it was nice to be able to just go to sleep and not have to stay up waiting, but it was hard having to hear the sounds of a happy family from within the house. It was something he knew he’d never have.

xxxxxxx

“Jonny, my boy!” A bright grin split One Eyed Jack’s face as Jonny walked in through the casino’s back door, his expression tired and blood staining his clothes. “Another job well done!”

A pained grunt was the only response Jonny could give him, as he pressed a hand to his side in an attempt to stop himself from bleeding out. One of the benefits of him being Jack’s go to hitman was that very few people expected someone his age to be the one sent to kill them, most of the time even if they knew someone would be coming for them, they were caught off guard. That hadn’t been the case today though, he didn’t know if people had finally caught on to what he was doing for Jack, or if the guy had just been paranoid, but they’d managed to get a hit on him before he could shoot them.

Honestly if it wasn’t for how good of a shot Jonny was, he was sure he would have been hurt worse, but he still wasn’t particularly happy with what had happened. His side hurt horribly and he felt woozy from blood loss, he really wasn’t sure how he would make it home, getting to the casino had been hard enough.

“Jonny!” Jack calling out his name shook the boy from his daze, and he was surprised to find the casino owner suddenly standing right in front of him. “Let me see it son.” If it wasn’t such a ridiculous notion Jonny would have almost thought his boss was worried based off of his tone, as he pulled him over to a couch and pried his hand off the wound.

Jonny involuntarily let out a hiss as Jack carefully poked at the wound before gritting his teeth together in an attempt to keep anymore sound from escaping, he didn’t want to show any weakness if he could help it. Jack seemed to find his actions amusing and let out a snort, as he finished examining the injury.

"It'll need to be cleaned and wrapped, but you'll live." The man stood and walked over to a cabinet and pulled out a glass and a bottle of what Jonny knew to be very strong alcohol. Pouring some into a glass, he walked back over to Jonny and offered it to him. “Not going to be pleasant, best if you’re a bit out of it.”

Jonny hesitated a moment, before grabbing the glass and drinking it in one go. The alcohol burned his throat as it went down and he couldn’t help but grimace, he’d never really understood the appeal of drinking. Jack laughed at his expression and reached out a hand to ruffle his hair, an action that left Jonny uncertain how he felt.

He didn’t like Jack, hated the jobs the man had him do and the way he felt like he couldn’t say no to them, but there were occasional moments of kindness that made him feel confused. A plate of food shoved in front of him along with a comment that he was too skinny, a bit of cash surreptitiously slipped in his hand at the end of a job, or help patching up a wound like today.

He didn’t get it, didn’t know the reasons for Jack’s actions, but sometimes he wondered if that’s what a father should actually be like.

xxxxxxx

“Woah!” Jonny d’Ville’s eyes widened in wonder as he took in the snowy planet in front of him; his home planet had been hot and dry, he didn’t know if it was possible for it to snow there, but if it was it had certainly never happened during his life. They visited planets in the past where it did snow, however they’d never been lucky enough to get there during the right season; their current planet however was one eternally stuck in winter.

Jonny was practically vibrating with excitement as he waited for Carmilla to be ready to leave the ship; they were only staying for a day, just long enough for the doctor to pick up some things and to refuel, so every second counted.

“Jonny.” He turned as Carmilla called his name and promptly found himself hit in the face by a warm coat. “It’s freezing out there, bundle up”

“What’s the worst that could happen? I die of frostbite?” It wasn’t like it would stick, he’d just end up reviving after a little while and be fine. Still despite his scornful words he pulled on the coat and buttoned it up, “Can we go already?”

Carmilla gave an amused smirk at Jonny’s ill disguised excitement and opened the ship's door, “Now remember, we’re only staying for one day, so don’t wander off too far. If you’re not back by sunset, I’ll leave without you.”

It didn’t feel like much of a threat to Jonny; she really would do it, he knew that, but he also knew that she’d eventually come back for him. Really all it would do was give him more time to enjoy the snow, and maybe cause a little havoc, so there wasn’t really any downside. Still, Carmilla seemed to be waiting for a reply and so he nodded in agreement.

He wasn’t really sure whether she believed him or not, but she moved out of the doorway and left the ship, with him following close behind. His first steps out into the snow found him sinking up to his knees, and he heard Carmilla laugh at the expression of surprise on his face, he had been expecting it to be a bit more solid.

“Keep up Jonny.” The doctor told him, making her way through the snow with an ease that annoyed Jonny. In the distance he could see the blurry looking city that they were headed for, though he wasn’t really sure whether the lack of clarity in its appearance was due to how far away it was or because of his own eyesight issues. Ever since the incident that had resulted in Carmilla mechanizing him, his eyesight had lost a lot of its sharpness. He couldn’t say for certain the cause of it, the events that had occurred were rather fuzzy; but Carmilla had said when he went down he’d hit his head hard, and he remembered an old man from his old planet had lost his sight after being beaten half to death with a pipe.

It had been several decades since then and there had been no improvement, so he was fairly certain nothing was ever going to change; at least not unless Carmilla did something, but while it was very possible she knew something was up by the way his skills at aiming had decreased, she hadn't said anything and he hadn’t told her. It scared him too much to imagine what she might do to try and fix it, there were enough painful things she put him through on a regular, and even if she said they were for his own good it didn’t mean he wanted more of it.

“I believe I told you to keep up.” The small hint of annoyance in her voice sent a shiver down Jonny’s spine and he immediately quickened his steps.

“Sorry.” He muttered, somehow managing to struggle through the deep snow to reach her side. “Got distracted.” For a moment she just stared at him, before letting out a sigh,

“Just try and stay focused until we get to town please. You can go off on your own then and do whatever you like, but for now I’d like to hurry along and get out of the cold.” Now that Carmilla had mentioned the cold, Jonny realized just how bad it was, even with the coat he’d been given didn’t completely block it out. The worst part was the effect it seemed to be having on the location where the metal of his mechanism met the skin of the rest of his chest, it seemed to burn as if there was heat surrounding them instead of the cold. Absently he rubbed at it with the butt of his palm and the movement caught Carmilla’s keen eyes.

“Is your mechanism having trouble?” She demanded more than questioned, and Jonny winced.

“Just kinda cold.” He muttered, hoping she wouldn’t feel the need to do anything about it, it hadn’t even been a week since the last time she’d performed maintenance and he really didn’t feel like being cut open again so soon. The doctor pursed her lips and gave him a calculating look, before saying words Jonny really didn’t want to hear.

“I’ll have to look into some kind of cold resistant covering, I suppose.” She didn’t say anything more after that and they continued to walk in silence, the city growing nearer and nearer. It seemed it had mostly been Jonny’s eyesight making it seem blurry and it wasn’t actually that far away.

As they entered through the gate, Jonny’s attention was immediately drawn by a nearby shop from which the lovely smell of baked goods was drifting. As she caught sight of the direction his gaze was looking, Carmilla rolled her eyes and shoved him gently in that direction.

“Go on, just make sure…”

“To be back by sunset, I know.” Jonny interrupted, bouncing slightly on his heels in excitement. Carmilla didn’t look exactly pleased at having been interrupted, but she seemed willing to let it go.

“One more thing, if you’re planning on causing trouble…” She paused for a moment, looking at him with a stern expression. “Don’t get caught.”

Jonny grinned.

“Got it.”

xxxxxxx

Jonny’s heart was racing as he ran through the halls of the ship, he didn’t know where he was headed, but he knew he had to hide. He’d shot Carmilla!

He’d never tried to fight back before, not with anything but words, because she’d told him the things she did was for his own good and he’d wanted to believe her. That was most likely the only reason he’d actually managed to kill her, because she hadn’t been expecting it in the least. To be fair though, he hadn’t been expecting it either, he’d just wanted the pain to stop and had reacted instinctively. He didn’t know whether that would do anything to dull the anger Carmilla would likely feel once she revived though, so his only concern was to find someone to hide until she’d cooled down.

Of course, that was easier said than done; Carmilla had been shot in the middle of working on him, and he knew he was leaving a trail of blood behind him that would lead her straight to him. There was no time to kill himself in order to heal though, not when the doctor would revive long before him.

Things were made worse by the fact that he really didn’t have any idea where he was going, they’d only had the Aurora for a very short while and for all that Carmilla seemed to have already figured out where everything was, he had not. If he took a wrong turn then for all he knew he could end up right back in front of the lab.

“C’mon….” He muttered to himself, as he turned a corner and ran down another unfamiliar hallway. “Think of something Jonny.”

As if in response to his plea, a vent over head fell open, offering him a new path. For a moment Jonny hesitated, he knew the ship was alive so this had to be her doing, which meant it could very possibly be a trap; maybe she was trying to lead him right back to Carmilla. It wasn’t like his current prospects were doing him any good though, and it would be nice to have a way to travel without leaving an obvious blood trail. It would be fairly obvious where he’d entered though, so just to be safe he traveled a few more hallways ahead, before backtracking to the open vent and climbing up into it.

It was somewhat of a surprise how roomy the vents were, and while he certainly wasn’t complaining, he couldn’t help but wonder about the reason behind that design choice. As he crawled further though them, a trail of blood which would certainly be a surprise to anyone who ever decided to clean the vents left behind, he found himself becoming more and more nervous; he still had no idea where he was going and nowhere to run if anything were to happen.

He’d just decided to drop out of the next vent he’d come across, when what he’d thought was just part of the side paneling fell open, revealing a passage behind it. For a moment he froze, before letting out a small laugh.

“You really are helping me, aren’t you?” He addressed the ship, feeling almost giddy over the fact that he had someone on his side. He’d been worried the ship had something against him, after all according to Carmilla the Aurora could talk, and yet so far she’d never said a word to him.

The Aurora seemed to hum slightly in confirmation to his comment, and he grinned as he slipped through the hole and dropped down into a new room. A quick glance around informed him that it seemed to be a store room of some sort, one of the ones they hadn’t yet gotten around to sorting through yet. He didn’t know what the boxes held, thought he supposed he’d have plenty of time to find out, but the important thing was they’d provide a good hiding spot. Sitting down in the shadow of on of the larger boxes, he leaned his head against the wall and listened to the vibration of the engines through them. He knew he wouldn’t be able to hide forever, eventually Carmilla would find him and he’d be punished; but for the moment, with the soft hum of the Aurora around him, he felt safe.

#jonny d'ville #billy vangelis #one eyed jack #doctor carmilla #the aurora #mechtober #my writing

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cliodevotus · 5 years

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♡

hello! so, this is my first time writing some content for Tumblr and my first time writing imagine content for the rami malek tag, and i'm kinda nervous hehehe, since i'm a non-english speaker (i'm from Brazil) and i'm not that fluent in english. also, i've never watched The Pacific (guess who can't find it online for free? hehe), so all the character and the trait of Merriel here were based on other imagines i've read about him

so, i think... good lecture, i guess. aaa somebody help my i'm so nervous

word count: almost 2400 words ;

nothing here belongs to me, except the writing and the story, also the video credits goes to l0user (YouTube) ;

Mr. Shelter

《 Snafu Imagine 》

1945

Nobody was waiting for him at the train station. Even thought it hurted to think about, he knew it would be like this since he entered that goddamn ship that sealed to the Second Great War.

It was past 6PM in the afternoon when the train stopped at New Orleans and let some soldiers get down of it and go back to their family. But Merriel didn't have a family waiting for him, not even Jade was there for him, but he couldn't judge her, he knew it was his fault that she was given to a foster home and didn't even knew he went to war. He didn't even said goodbye to Eugene, because he didn't want to wake the poor boy up. So he get off the train like he appeared, quickly and in complete silence.

He couldn't stop thinking about that situation while he started to walk through the station, passing throught the bunch of couples and families receiving their boys and mans alive from that monstrous war. They at least had someone or a home of their own. But Merriel had nothing and nobody.

Well, he had actually one person, a girl to be more specific, but he was trying hard to not think about that girl. It was just a moony teenage romance, nothing that passed from it. She was probably married to some asshole right now and having to take care of at least 5 naughty children. He didn't liked to think that she was married to another guy, but he knew she wouldn't have waited for him for like... 5 years? God, that's a long time. She didn't even send him a letter. During those 5 years, he haven't received anything, not even a letter. It was hard to see the other boys cheering to some picture or letter that they've receive from their girlfriends and he had to pretend he didn't care.

The day was being consumed slowly by one of those starry nights in New Orleans. The train station looked so dark that Merriel had one hundred percent sure that it was dawn or even dusk, or maybe it was just his mind trying to convince him that being in the battleground was better than coming back "home".

He bumped into something; he was distracted, thinking about the whole thing about coming back home and walking at the same that he didn't even noticed that little kid crying in the middle of the street. With the shock, he let his bag fall and hit the ground, almost making him and the kid fall together. His fast movement allowed him to equilibrate and hold the kid at the same time, before both hit the ground.

"Ay kiddo! Careful. Whatcha doin' in the middle of the street like this? You're goin' to get hurt." Scolded the boy, but as soon as he heard the silent cry and sobs, he regreted being so hard with the kid. "Ay boy, are you okay?" The boy just sobbed louder. "Can you tell me what happened?"

The boy turned and looked at him; his appearance was something else. The curly hair, that blue greenish eyes and thin reddish lips. Merriel felt like he was looking at some kind of mirror or something. Even the olive skin was similar to his. Even shocked with his vision, he felt the necessity of making sure the boy was okay. "What happened, kiddo?"

The kid sniffed and showed what he was holding in both of his hands, a teddy bear without an arm in the left hand and an arm without a teddy bear in the right one. The boy sobbed again. "I, I ripped off it's arm accidentally. Mo-momma is going to be angry at me, i-it's her teddy bear a-and I took him out without permission!" The boy started crying and sobbing hard again. Merriel was shocked due the boy's confession.

"Ay, ay, ay. Kiddo, calm down, okay? Lemme see the teddy bear." He asked, while cowering in front of the boy.

The boy gave him the teddy bear, and sobbing, murmured. "Shelter, sir."

"What?"

"His name is Shelter, momma calls him like this."

"Oh." Agreed, looking again to the teddy bear, with a sad mien. "There's anythin' I can do for the poor Mr. Shelter, the teddy bear, maybe a needlewoman can fix, but I'm just a soldier, I can't do anythin' kiddo. Sorry." The boy started sobbing again. "Ay, calm down. The best you can do now is tell your mother what you've done and hope that she forgives you. Ok pal?" The kid calmed down and nodded, while rubbing his eyes full with tears with his hands. "So, here's Shelter." Gave to the kid the stuffed animal back and stand up, ready to start walking to nowhere when little hands grabbed his own big hands.

Merriel was a little surprised with the boy's propose on taking him back home to tell his mother about what he have done to the poor bear Shelter, and even more surprise when, without hesitation, he accepted the propose. The whole way back wasn't made in complete silence, because after Merriel said yes to that crazy propose, the little boy didn't stopped talking and making the 23 years old man speak and answear his questions; he talked a lot, and Merriel realized that their appearance wasn't the only similar thing between them both.

"You know, momma had Shelter even before I was born! It was a gift from her boyfriend, I think."

"A gift?"

"Yeah, she gained it from her boyfriend one week before he was gone. I think he won Shelter for her on some kind of game, she said it was on a 'county fair', and that it was one of the best gifts of her life!" The boy chuckled and keep telling the strange man about his life with his momma, but Merriel stopped listening. It couldn't be. He couldn't help thinking about the girl again; he remembered when he shot those stupid cans and won the skinny brown teddy bear that looked like the poor boy Shelter just to impress her. She was so happy and excited, looking like a child, when Merriel gave her the teddy bear that she even kissed his nose accidentally. He smiled with the memory of her soft lips at the same time the little boy stopped abruptly.

Merriel looked up and saw the house. It was really pretty, actually; two floors, pastel yellow with some white details on some parts of the roof and the delicatef fences of the porch, where some plants and a wooden bench were part of the decoration, and in front of the pretty house, there was the prettiest garden Merriel has ever seen in his entire life.

"Sir?" The boy called Merriel, who immediately stopped admiring the house. "Come with me and tell my momma what happened to Mr. Shelter? Please?"

Merriel sighed. "I can go with ya, but ya have to tell ya ma what you've done."

The boy agreed and they started walking in direction of the pastel yellow house. When the little boy opened the door, a feminine voice echoed from the kitchen. "Alle, is that you?"

Allesandro looked to Merriel, who signed to him to go talk to his momma. Allesandro agreed and entered the kitchen, letting the marine admiring the inside of the pastel yellow house; so clean and organised, full of books and delicate porcelain objects.

"Allesandro!" The feminine voice screaming from the kitchen got Merriel attention back. "What have I told you about taking my things without permission?"

Allesandro sobbed in the distance. "I-I'm sorry momma!"

"And how am I going to fix it now?" Merriel started walkung slowly in direction of the kitchen. The smell of meat and potato patties was the most attractive smell he have smelled in those five years.

Allesandro noticed when he entered the kitchen. "Bu-but he said he knows someone who can h-help!" And one hiccup escaped his mouth. Merriel was shocked when the mother turned to him. It was her, the girl he had been dreaming all over those five years.

He murmured with a whisper. "Y-Y/N?"

"Merriel?" You murmured the same tone as him. Oh God, you've been waiting for that moment for the past 5 years and now he was there, in front of you. You didn't even knew if he was alive, your father didn't let you have any contact with him after he was gone; and now he was there.

"W-why didn't you...?" He whispered, so low that nobody though himself could hear, but you heard. And it hurted. That sad look in his eyes broke your heart, you wanted so much to hug him and said that you were sorry for not writing him any letter even though you didn't have any idea where he was. "You...?"

"Merriel, I-..." You walked 'til him, putting Shelter, the bear, and his ripped arm over the table and totally forgetting about the meat and the potato patties in the oven. You stopped in front of him, wanting so bad to touch him, to kiss that thin lips that are so delicious and vicious again. "... you're back...!" And then you hugged him, feeling the yerning tears coming out of your eyes in abundance. You could feel that he wasn't expecting you to hug him, shocked by the fact that you still remembered him and even though you didn't send him any letter. "I'm so, so sorry! I-I thought of you every night ans wrote you a lot of letters, but my father, h-he..." Merriel hugged you tight, he kinda understood for a moment. Your father was always a little piece of shit with him, but he couldn't judge the old man; if Merriel's daughter started going out and spending time with some guy that was knew for being a troublemaker and a big trashmouth like him he would be pissed too.

"Momma." Allesandro said suddenly, interrupting the moment between you two. "Do you know him?"

You noticed when Merriel became tense looking at your son. He finally realised and you needed to act fast. "Allesandro, sweetheart, could you go to the living room watch some TV? Momma needs to talk with this man in particular."

Even though Allesandro wanted so bad to hear the conversation, he obeyed your order and went to the living room, turning on the TV on some random show. You supposed it was The World in Your Home.

It was weird to look at Merriel after all those years and having to have that conversation in the most inappropriated way. The smell of meat and potatoes patties suddenly remebered you from the dinner you were preparing before he came. When you approximated from the oven, you finally decided to speak. "I'm sorry, I didn't... I didn't knew you were coming back today, so the meal I prepared for dinner isn't the beast one for your homecoming." You joked, and he kinda gave you a quiet laugh.

He grabbed the chair from the dinner table. "So, Allesandro?" He looked in direction of the living room, where your son was watching TV. "You're now a mother, Y/N."

You could feel the pain in his voice. "I'm a mother." You could only say this.

"And his name is Allesandro. How old is he? Five?"

"Four, he'll be five next weekend." You sighted. It was now or never. "He was named like his father."

"Really?" You turned off the oven, finishing the dinner, and turned to him. He looked like he was about to cry, you didn't want this.

"Yes, Merriel Allesandro Shelton." Merriel looked at you surprised; you smiled, holding back your tears. "You're his father, Merriel."

Merriel chin trembled, and some tears were forming in his eyes. The prettiest and happiest smallest smile formed in his lips.

[ • ]

Allesandro was grounded in his bedroom. After the dinner (the meat and the potato patties were delicious), while you were washing the dishes you suddenly realized how weird that situation was. He brought Merriel to your house, even though Allesandro didn't even know him! Merriel, who was listening to his childish stories and trying to find the most passive way of telling Allesandro that he was the father of your son the same time he was trying to fix Mr. Shelter, realized that after you told Allesandro to go to his bedroom.

Allesandro, grounded in his bedroom, was quietly playing with a wooden car toy he has won from his grandpa in his birthday last year, when he heard in the distance the radio from the living room playing a song.

youtube

He was curious about what that radio was doing playing songs so late at the night, so, quietly like a robber, he went out of his room, walked through the corridor and went downstairs silently, like he didn't even existed. Allesandro walked tiptoe in direction to the living room, finally spying inside.

He saw you and Merriel dancing to the melodic voice of Kitty Kallen.

❝Never thought that you would be

standing here so close to me

There's so much I feel that I should say,

but words can wait until some other day❞

Allesandro admired you, his mother, dancing to that strange man so serenely, and smiled.

❝Kiss me once, then kiss me twice

Then kiss me once again

It's been a long, long time

Haven't felt like this, my dear

Since I can't remember when

It's been a long, long time❞

He hated when he was playing in his room and heard you crying above Mr. Shelter teddy bear calling Merriel's name; he planned it for weeks, making sure to find that man you loved so much just to see you happy. And now he realised: he did a good job bringing his daddy back home, even though he got grounded in the end and costed to the poor Mr. Shelter an arm. But making you happy while you're dancing with Merriel made those things look meaningless.

❝You'll never know how many dreams

I've dreamed about you

Or just how empty they all seemed without you

So kiss me once, then kiss me twice

Then kiss me once again

It's been a long... long time...❞

#snafu #merriel shelton #merriell shelton #merriel shelton imagine #merriel shelton x reader #rami malek imagine #ma boi rami malek #rami malek #snafu deserved better #snafu imagine #snafu x reader #rami malek x reader #kiss me once then kiss me twice then kiss me once again its been a long timeee #this song is my jam god #kitty kallen #l0user #5 years #i hate putting gifs on tumblr holy mother

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katehuntington · 5 years

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Title: Ride With Me (part eight) Fandom: Supernatural AU Characters series: Reader, Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Ellen Singer-Harvelle, Jo Singer (Harvelle), Benny Lafitte, Ash Miles, Garth Fitzgerald IV, Castiel Novek, and many more. Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader (eventually) Word count: 5550 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family. Summary part eight: It’s one of those days for Dean where everything that can go wrong, goes wrong. After one hell of a day, Bobby has to break the news to Ash, who doesn’t take the lay off well. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: About Today - The National (final scene). Check out ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: Thank you @kittenofdoomage and @girl-with-a-fandom-fettishfor helping me. You girls are awesome betas. Thank you for your endless patience!

Ride With Me Masterlist

7.30 AM, Monday morning. Several hundred hooves tremble the ground. Earthy colored dust has turned into dark mud overnight as the heavens unleashed a rainstorm that still hasn't stopped from raging down. The cattle moos anxiously, trying to stick together as a herd. Bobby’s dog, Rumsfeld, barks over the sound of it all, his enthusiastic calls trumped by the shouts and whistles of the wranglers. "Yah!” Dean shouts, cutting off young stock that threatens to fan out.

Droplets as big as marbles fall from the grey sky, the water caught in the brim of his hat pouring from it whenever he tips it down. It’s unusually cold this morning without sunshine to burn the night away. The long, leather coat he’s wearing protects him from that, but the rain started coming through the seams on his shoulders and elbows two hours ago and a steady drip down his neck has drenched his shirt already. Dean has been in the saddle since four o'clock, ever since the thunder woke him up and an eerie gut feeling began to unsettle him. Something was wrong, he felt it in his bones. As he stepped out onto the porch, he immediately noticed the distressed young stock on the wrong side of the fence. Apparently, the cattle panicked in the thunderstorm, took down a gate, and escaped the pen, splitting the herd in two. They were absolutely all over the place, roaming over more than forty acres. With a buyer coming in at 9 AM, he had to gather the two hundred cows and bulls fast, if he wanted to avoid a financial disaster. So here they are; wet through, tired and miserable, trying to maneuver their horses on the slick surface. A perfect start for this dreadful Monday.

A sharp whistle reverberates through the valley, requiring his attention. It's Bobby, looking over the mayhem from a small hill, calling his horse to a stand. “Dean, stragglers!” His head wrangler notices three steers swaying away from the herd. Dean turns from the tail of the group and pushes his horse forward, but immediately senses the loss of grip in the slippery mud. Led’s hind legs skid from under his body, forcing the buckskin to the ground. As the horse's knees buckle, the experienced rider decides in a split second not to leave the sinking ship. Instead, he skillfully sticks to the saddle like he’s glued to the leather, and moves his weight to level out the balance. At the same time, he pulls Led’s nose from the ground and gives enough free rein right after, simultaneously pushing his heels into the horse’s flanks, encourages him to give it his everything to get back on his feet. His quick thinking enables the stallion to break the fall and thankfully; Led steadies himself. Dean breathes out; that was way too close. “Well done, bud,” the rider soothes, ruffling the Quarter’s mane, glad that he was able to prevent a possibly painful crash. “Hell of a save,” Benny comments from several yards away. “You alright?” “I'm good,” Dean assures his best friend. “We need to round them up fast before this whole pasture turns into a mudslide.” He pushes Led forward, who picks up speed carefully, smart enough to not make the same mistake twice. It takes a while to make up for the lost time, but then he wings the three bulls, guiding them back to the group. Slowly but surely, the wranglers manage to maneuver the large number of animals back into another secured pen. It’s past eight o’clock when Jo closes the last gate and they can all take a breather. Too bad they cannot head back to bed just yet, the day has only just begun. “Next time you wake me up in the middle of the night, make sure it’s because there’s some hot gal waiting for me on my doorstep,” Ash mocks as he slows his horse down. Dean looks aside, grinning at the guy that’s in charge of the cattle. “You have enough problems controlling your cows, let alone women, Ash.” Benny laughs at that, so does Jo. He’s sure Bobby would have laughed at it too, if it wasn't for the troubling decision that has been made. The ranch owner rests his hand on the horn, taking in his dream team as the rain finally stops falling. Today is the day that he will sell over three-fourths of his cattle. Decades of blood, sweat and tears, sold for a dime. Damage control, they call that. It ain't pretty, but it’s necessary to prevent this place from drowning. What else is necessary is cutting down on personnel. Collateral damage is the term, Bobby believes. There’s that word again: damage. “Is Rufus still dropping by at nine?” Dean, who held up his horse to ride next to his uncle, checks with him. “Yeah, but you know Rufus. Could be eleven just as well,” Bobby mutters, aware of his old friend’s carelessness. “Better ask Ellen to break out the Johnny Walker Blue if you're aiming for a good price,” his right hand suggests, before he halts at the tack up area. The sound of horseshoes splashing on the wet surface draws Y/N’s attention. She parks her broom against the stable wall and peeks around the corner, spotting the wranglers under the Yucca tree, which seems to cry silently as tears of rain drip down from its branches. “Garth! They're here!” she shouts at the stable boy on the other side of the barn. The slender guy pops his head out of a stall, then walks out and closes the door behind him. Like the wranglers, he and the intern got up at four in the morning as well. During the weekend the stables aren't mucked out, which adds to the work on Monday, and with Bobby, Jo and Dean handling the breakout, the two of them had to feed and turn out the animals as well. Getting up early was the only way to get all the work done without falling behind. As the dark rain clouds pass, everyone on the square gets off their horses. Y/N walks up to Bobby, sensing the low morale. No wonder, because all five wranglers are soaked, probably sore and tired too. “I got him.” She takes over his chestnut named Seger. “Ellen has breakfast ready for you.” “Thank you, Darlin’,” the old man mumbles, stiffly making his way to the cafeteria. While tying up Seger, Y/N watches the ranch owner hobble off, wondering why he seems so burdened. When she glances back to loosen the horse’s cinch, a handsome cowboy catches her eye on the other side of the chestnut. Dean takes off Led’s bridle, the last waterdrops rolling from the dip of his hat. Mud splatters have sprayed across his leather overcoat, his boots covered in dirt. There are smudges on his face, along with a weekend stubble still on his strong jaw. The knuckles of his firm hands have a blue shade, so do his lips; he must be so cold after four hours in the pouring rain. With sympathy, she looks at him. “Hell of a morning, huh?” she comments, trying to make small talk. Dean looks up and pauses his action. He seems a little surprised by her voice, as if only just now he realized she was behind the horse next to him. The line parting his lips breaks in a small smile. It’s the first time he hears her use a word as such. His language is terrible, he throws in a variation of the words ‘fuck’ and ‘shit’ wherever it fits. But Y/N on the other hand, coming from upstate, says ‘gosh’ at most, and uses terms such as ‘for heaven’s sake’, which he finds quite cute. Apparently she’s adapting to her company. The wrangler scoffs. “You can say that again.” He unbuckles the cinch and removes the saddle from Led’s back. The mud sticking to the saddle pad is hard to miss and it catches the intern’s eye. Led must have hit the ground at some point, how else would the animal have dirt caked thick in his coat on his entire side? “Did you fall?” she asks. Dean chuckles, slightly amused, while he puts the heavy saddle on the bar his horse is tied to as well. He heard that, the worry in her voice. “Led slipped, but he was able to steady himself,” he reassures. The cowboy returns his focus to the buckskin next to him as he turns the faucet of the water source. Led might be wet through just like his rider, but he’s covered in filth as well, and that's no way to bring a horse back to his stable. He quickly hoses down his Quarter, while Y/N washes Seger’s feet. When she’s done, she follows Benny and Jo as they return their horses to the stable. Coming back to pick up the saddle, Y/N finds her supervisor crouched down next to Led’s left front leg. “Shit…” he curses, feeling the cannon bone. The saddle is left on the bar. Instead, Y/N comes to see what Dean is annoyed with. With just one glance she can determine the swelling on the back of the leg, a little above the fetlock joint. “Tendon?” she assumes, petting the horse on the shoulder. Dean carefully feels the tissue, causing Led to flinch. It’s painful, but with all the fluid that is building up around the injury, it’s hard to tell what exactly is causing the reaction. “Could be. He seemed sound after he tripped,” the wrangler contemplates. “Can you jog him?” “Sure,” she replies, after which she unties the horse. Y/N leads the beautiful Quarter in a straight line and starts to run after a few yards. With the first stride it’s already clear that Led is anything but even. Only the click-clack sound of Led’s shoes on the surface is enough to state the obvious. “Well, that ain't good,” Dean sighs as Y/N walks the palomino back. “You didn't feel him at all?” she checks with the wrangler. “The poor bastard must have worked through the pain. He’s a tough horse,” Dean ponders, running his hand down Led’s face with sympathy. “I'll cool his leg for a while. Can you get a rug for him?” “What about you?” He shrugs selflessly. “I’ll skip breakfast.” “You’re not skipping breakfast. You've been working nonstop since four AM, you deserve a break,” Y/N decides, strong-minded. “I have cooling leg boots which Led can wear while he's stabled. It works better than cooling with water.” “Alright then.” He smiles, appreciating her firm response. He takes over his horse and leads Led back to the barn without hasting him. Silently, Dean turns the Quarter in as his intern walks to the tack room to get the leg wrap and a rug, followed by a stop at the cafeteria to pick up two cool packs from the freezer. On her way over, she notices the handsome wrangler staring at nothing in particular, lost in thoughts. His fingers absently rub Led’s withers, who on his turn bends his neck and seeks the cowboy’s free hand, nuzzling his nose against his skin, as if he is trying to comfort his rider in return. Although it’s a heartwarming sight to see the man having a moment with the beautiful animal, Y/N can sense something is off about him. Not that she knows him all that well, but she can tell that he’s carrying a crippling weight. He’s quiet, for one. No smart answers or perky remarks that could easily be mistaken for flirting. There is also something about his eyes, something weary. “Here you go,” she says, handing over the boot. Dean takes it and straps around the injured leg, while Y/N lays a fleece rug on Led’s back to prevent the horse from cooling down too fast. When the wrangler rises to his feet and lets his fingers glide through Led’s golden coat while waiting for her to secure the rug, the silence is awfully evident. “Are you okay?” she asks carefully. Dean glances up, caught off guard by the question. For a moment he reckons she’s asking because of the almost crash and now Led’s injury, but when his eyes meet hers, he sees that the question is more layered than that. His first instinct is to throw her a cocky comment, that a little mud isn't ever going to bring him down, but he decides against it. He’s not sure if his hesitation is caused by her ability to read between the lines, but the young man suddenly feels vulnerable, intimidated even. “Yeah, I'm fine,” he says. “Let’s eat. Don't know about you, but I'm starving.” She fakes a smile. Of course, she could eat after a morning like today, but she was hoping Dean would take the opportunity to get it off his chest. A pleasant heat and the smell of bacon and toast welcome them like it does every working day, when Y/N pushes open the door to the cozy personnel hangout. Ellen’s breakfast is always something to look forward to, but today it’s a true gift from heaven. The rest of the crew sits down after having changed into dry clothes and wait impatiently for their bacon and eggs, as Bobby finishes his plate first. When the door creaks, Ellen looks up from behind the stove. “Oh honey, look at you,” she says when Dean follows you inside. “Did you drown out there? You're soaked through.” Her nephew hangs his dripping coat and Sheplers on the hat rack above the heater and is welcomed by his aunt with a clean towel, a warm flannel and a pair of jeans “Why don't you freshen up first and put on some dry clothes. Wouldn't want you to catch a cold,” she insists. “Thanks, Ellen.” Dean takes the neatly folded pile from her arms after which he places a short, genuine kiss on her hair and moves to the backroom to change. Y/N can't help but smile when she sits down, delighted to witness the wrangler’s soft side for the second time today. The warmth spreads through her like the hot coffee that she swallows down and settles in the pit of her stomach. She folds her fingers around the mug as she takes another sip, peering over the edge at the man she is losing her heart to as he closes the door behind him. A kick against the shin awakens her from a trance, the action causing her to almost choke on her coffee. Jo sits across the table, her deadly glare demanding to get it together. Flustered and caught, Y/N averts her gaze at the plate that Ellen just set down under her nose. “Dig in while it’s still warm, sweety,” she insists, oblivious of how the intern feels about her nephew. Y/N does so, partly as an excuse to not look Jo in the eye and be confronted with her judgment. But when Dean enters the room again, cleaned up and wearing a comfortable red plaid flannel, she just has to take him in for a second. Before Jo can kick her leg again, someone knocks on the glass window from outside the cafeteria. Everyone looks up at the doorway when an old friend of Bobby’s appears. “Well, I'll be damned,” Ellen says, delighted. “If it ain't Rufus Turner.” The African American with a pearl white smile and a rascal look in his eyes enters the cafeteria. “Ellen Singer, you haven't changed a bit.” Rufus takes his hat off for her, but then he turns to face her husband at the head of the table. “But you on the other hand,” he pats Bobby on the back, “- you got old.” The joke attracts a laugh from the others. “Good to see you too, Rufus,” the ranch owner responds. “Grab a plate and dig in. There’s plenty,” Ellen offers. “I’d love to, but if you don't mind, I wanna get down to business. I've got places to be later.” He puts his hat back on and turns to the rest of the company. “Mind if I steal him for a bit?” “By all means, steal away.” Ellen smiles politely. Bobby gets up and excuses himself. When he has left the room, the workers finish their breakfast. Nobody says anything, and although Y/N doesn't understand what has caused the grim mood, she keeps her mouth shut. Instead, she takes in the people surrounding her. Jo, Ellen, and Dean seem to ignore the elephant in the room, while Garth, Benny and Ash exchange puzzled looks. Rufus’s visit to the ranch has stirred things up. Who is he? A business partner? A trader, maybe? When the break is over and the crew gets back to work, the air is more suffocating than it is on a hot day. It has nothing to do with the weather, though. “Why is Bobby selling stock?” It’s Ash who asks as the gang walks down to the paddocks between the stables. The question breaks the silence, but it also adds to the tension. Jo and Dean exchange a look, but both keep quiet, which isn’t sufficient for the worker with the odd haircut. “That’s why Rufus is here, ain’t it?” Ash pushes, a worry in his tone that seems foreign for the carefree guy. The head wrangler sighs and turns to his friend. “Look, business has been slow, y’all know that. Rufus is here to discuss the value of the cattle, to explore our options,” Dean tries to reassure not just him, but the rest of his staff. When he can read from Ash’s face that his reassurance doesn’t have much effect, he adds a few words he might regret later. “No need to worry just yet. We’ll figure it out. Now let’s get to work.” And so everyone does, some left with a few questions, but the leader of the team has managed to take away most of the concern. All this time, the intern hasn’t said a word. The young woman with a master’s degree in business and a nose for bullcrap only observes. She observes Dean, when he glances at his cousin, troubled, right after Ash walks off to fill the hay barn in the main pastures. She observes Jo, who looks at the ground and keeps quiet, as the two of them walk over to the paddocks to turn the horses in. She observes Bobby Singer and Rufus Turner, who are seated on the back porch of the house, accompanied by a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue, tied up in a dialogue that seems to be a negotiation more than it is a casual chat. She observes the handshake, the ‘glad to do business with you’ grin on Rufus’s face opposite of the defeat in the ranch owner’s eyes. So much for not needing to worry just yet.

The early morning rain has cooled down the dusty lands and doesn’t allow the temperature to rise like it did the previous days. Clouds keep rolling in from the east, cutting off the sun. This weather suits Y/N better and she works extra hard now that her body doesn’t seem like it’s overheating. It gives her a good feeling that she is able to take some of the load from the other workers. Dean even allowed her to train two of the horses, since he had a meeting with Bobby. He didn’t return until an hour before supper. After dinner, Benny and Garth head to the shed to fix the tractor, that on top of everything else, started spilling oil. The rest of the crew is about to retreat back to the bunkhouse, when Bobby calls back one of the workers. “Ash?” he says, his voice matching his serious expression. “Can you come into my office?” “Sure thing, boss,” he responds, joining the ranch owner. Dean can read from Ash’s facial expression that he’s uneasy, but doesn’t have a clue what is coming for him. The ranch hand who is in charge of the cattle probably assumes that Bobby is going to update him on the reason why Rufus was here. Shit, he wishes it was just a simple briefing. Poor bastard… The head wrangler exhales as he walks on, shaking off the cold that hasn’t seemed to leave his body after the rainy morning. Jo follows him silently, kicking the clotty earth with her dragging feet, hands shoved down in the pockets of her denim jacket. Y/N is on his other side, wonderingly looking over at them every now and then. She has kept quiet long enough. So when they step up the stairs to the porch first, she drops the bomb. “So, Ash is getting sacked, huh?” Dean has stopped in his tracks and instantly shoots an angry glare at Jo. “You told her?!” “I didn’t tell her jack shit!” she counters, insulted. “She didn’t need to, Dean,” Y/N backs her up, having turned around before opening the front door. “Livestock sales have plummeted nationwide, yet Bobby is selling now, so times must be desperate. With no cattle to handle it’s only logical that Ash will be let go in order to cut down on costs. I have a business degree, remember? I can do the math. Here, you guys look like you can use these.” During her flood of words, she had strolled to the fridge, taken out three beers, and popped the caps off with an opener. Not sure if he should be impressed or feel threatened by the intern’s knowledge, Dean takes the drink and has a swig of the brew. She’s right about more than a few things; he needed a beer. “Is Bobby breaking it to him now?” she wonders. Dean glances over at Jo, who leans back against the kitchen sink, nursing her bottle. It’s not something they would usually discuss with interns, but since she already seems to be fully aware of the situation and he trusts that she will keep this between them, he confirms with a nod. “Damn…” Y/N ponders, biting her lip as her eyes drift away to nothing in particular. “How long has he been here?” “For about five years now,” Jo thinks back, clearly sad about having to say goodbye to a good friend. “I can remember the day he arrived. He caught Dad’s eye at the Holbrook Rodeo, where he worked in the arena. He couldn’t keep a job long enough to rent himself a roof over his head, mostly because of his looks and his ‘fuck you’ attitude, but he was good with the bulls. That’s when Dad asked him to come work for him and for the first time, Ash found a place where he belonged. He’s been here ever since. Never stayed in one spot this long. Mom and Dad have a habit of taking the misfits under their wings.” It’s quiet for a few long seconds, as Dean recalls Ash’s early days on the property. Then he goes back further, to the day he himself set foot on these lands, with nowhere else to go. They did exactly the same for him as they did for Ash; offered him a comfortable bed, warm food, a rewarding job. A safe haven where they didn’t have to worry about how to get through tomorrow, where they didn’t have to be scared. One would perhaps expect Bobby and Ellen to take Dean in, him being their nephew. But it didn’t matter that the funny looking bullfighter called Ash wasn’t related. He became family, too. “How do you think he’s going to take it?” It’s Y/N who breaks Dean’s train of thought. He ponders for a moment before he answers. “I dunno. He’s a pretty chill guy these days, but this is so much more than just a job.” Dean pauses, putting himself in Ash’s shoes for a moment. Who is he fooling? His friend is going to lose it. “Guess we’re gonna find out in a moment,” Jo says, nodding at the portrait outside. Y/N glances through the dirty window while Dean holds the bamboo fly curtain aside to step onto the porch. It’s Ash who approaches the bunkhouse, but he doesn’t have the swagger he usually has in his stride. The ranch hand is looking down at the ground, the soil he used to call home. Every muscle in his face tensed, balled fists move alongside him with each step. Dean watches the guy for a brief moment, then descends the stairs to meet with him, but Ash does not want any of it. Instead, his friend walks past him, dismissing the head wrangler. “Ash. I--” The words trigger something in the lean guy, because after taking two strides up the steps, he turns around, a pair of piercing eyes startling Dean. “You knew, didn’t ya?” he questions, his voice heavy with frustration. Dean needs a moment to recover, staring up at the cattle worker, but Ash doesn’t grant him that time. “That whole ‘no need to worry, we’ll figure it out.’ It was bullshit and you know it. Hell, I ain’t surprised if you’re the one who decided that it was my ass to fire.” There isn’t much Dean can say to that, because it’s true. He did know, he knew for a long time, and yes, it was him who told Bobby it had to be the man who’s standing before him right now. “We…” Dean pauses to correct himself, because Ash is right; this is on him. “I didn’t have a choice.” “Oh, but you did. Instead of telling me that things were gonna be A-okay, you could’ve told me what was gonna happen. But no, you were too fucking scared to look me in the eye and tell me the Goddamn truth,” the worker says accusingly. Dean stares back at him, his jaw flexing, but then he looks away as he swallows down the guilt. He knew those words were going to bite him in the ass. When he straightens himself again, Jo has appeared in the doorway, with Y/N right behind her. “Ash, we’re all sorry it went down as it did, and we wish it didn’t have to be like this--” “Then why the fuck do I have to leave?!” he shouts at the daughter of the ranch owner, his eyes noticeably shimmering in the lights above the porch. Jo isn’t impressed with his anger, on the contrary; she replies professionally calmly. “I hate to see you go. Shit, we all do. But the ranch isn’t going to survive if Dad doesn’t cut costs,” she reminds him. “There’s barely any cattle left to maintain, and you were hired last.” “Right. The ‘last in, first out’ rule. Then tell me, what the hell is she still doing here?” Suddenly, the newest crewmember is dragged into the argument as Ash nods at Y/N. Her heart skips a beat when it dawns on her what he holds her accountable for; he thinks she stole his job. Shocked, Y/N looks at the man who directed the focus on her. It’s a side of him she didn’t know he had and is overwhelmed by the accusation, causing her mind to fail miserably when trying to form any kind of response. Feeling helpless and exposed, she glances at the other two, desperate for back up. Thankfully, the head wrangler got the message, because seeing Y/N’s expression change from compassionate to fearful, triggers something inside him. “Y/N’s an intern,” Dean returns, the tone of his voice colder than a moment ago. “Y/N is still here because she doesn’t cost Bobby anything.” But Ash disagrees. “She’s another mouth to fill, just like every single one of us. She has a horse here who needs a shit ton of feed--” “- and she works hard for that,” Dean overrules him, staring him down. “Look, man. I know you’re pissed, I get it. But don’t you put this on her, it ain’t her fault.” “Are you saying I don’t work hard for my pay?!” Ash snaps back angrily. “I didn’t say that,” Dean rights, gesturing with a lowering hand to calm down. “I’m saying that down the line, Y/N is a free hand.”

Ash scoffs at that, biting his lips as he looks away and clenches his fists, his knuckles pressed together in order to manage the exasperation. He’s so hurt and upset that he doesn’t even think about the consequences of the words that follow. “Oh, she’s a free hand, alright,” he states, shooting the guy opposite of him a penetrating glare. Jo gapes at Ash, mouth falling open, then turns her head to witness Y/N having the exact same reaction. Dean stares at Ash too, first in astonishment, wondering where he got the nerve to insinuate something like that. Within a second, that emotion is pushed aside by brewing anger. The need to defend her honor causes him to step towards Ash intimidatingly, but Jo gets in between before things escalate. “Whoa, now! Can we just keep it cool and not get nasty?” she demands, having both Dean and Ash at arm’s length. But Ash, apparently, isn’t done. “You’ve always been a screw around, man, but shit, I did not expect you to stab me in the back just to get in a girl’s pants,” he sneers, pushing Dean’s buttons and seriously applying for a punch in the face. “This is fucking bullshit, Ash, and you know it!” Dean counters, so worked up over the allegation that his heart is beating out of his chest. “Okay, that’s it! If you don’t shut your mouth right now I’m gonna pull out that mullet of yours!” Jo warns Ash before she turns to Dean. “And you need to walk it off, right now!” The ranch owner’s daughter pushes him back gently in order to raise her finger at him sternly. He steps away, offering a little air to the suffocating clash, and so does Ash. “Don’t bother, I’ll leave.” He scoffs. “That’s whatcha want, ain’t it?” The cattle worker turns around, the rage slowly seeping from him, leaving the space for sadness and disappointment to fill. Y/N watches the guy, still mind-blown by all the words that were said, but now that a fight is avoided, she can only feel pity. The blame that he put on her and on Dean is only a response to his world crashing down on him. She cannot really condemn him for lashing out. After ten or more steps, the guy in a dirty shirt and a plaid jacket with the sleeves ripped off turns around. Normally everything about the guy is either hazardous or comical, depending on how well you know him, but not now. Not now that his eyes are glistening in pained emotion. “This wasn’t just work, y’know. This is my life. This is home,” he says, his arms spread in desperation. “I thought that all of us here - that we were in this together. That we don’t turn our back on family.” He pauses, eyes fixed on Jo, then on Dean. He continues with a broken voice. “Y’all did exactly that.” With those words, he turns away and heads off to his cattle, like he always does after dinner. Silenced, the three watch him leave, until Dean sighs and looks around lost, as if he hopes to find answers in the earth-colored gravel. He doesn’t look at Y/N, he’s doing everything to avoid her questioning, sympathetic gaze. When the air gets too thin to breathe, he walks away in the direction of the barn, off to his horses. The intern allows her eyes to linger on the defeated figure that becomes smaller as he drags his feet down the worn path to the stables, the grey sky above him that darkens by the minute only adding to the grim atmosphere. Instinctively, Y/N reaches for the handrail of the steps down the porch, intending to follow him, but Jo stops her. “Let him be for a bit.” Y/N halts and listens to her friend, then lets a breath slip from her dry lips. “So no one wins today, huh?” “Nope. Not today,” Jo responds, moving through the doorway after throwing a glance at Ash’s silhouette in the far pasture. “Comin’? I have a bottle of something a-hell-of-a-lot-stronger-than-beer stashed somewhere.” Y/N huffs and turns to join her. Jo pours her some rum in a jar, which she sips on silently as she looks out the window, watching the day end. But the alcohol cannot wash away her thoughts that are with the two ranch workers: the one who lost his friend, and the one who lost everything else as well.

Told you guys there was gonna be angst? Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read part nine here

#Ride With Me #Dean x Reader #Cowboy!Dean #Dean Winchester #Cowboy!Dean x reader #Dean Winchester x Reader #Dean Winchester reader insert #Dean x Y/N #Dean Winchester x Y/N #SPN #Supernatural #Supernatural AU #SPN AU #dean winchester au #Dean Winchester fanfiction #Dean fanfiction #Dean Winchester fanfic #Dean fanfic #Kate Huntington

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alvaar-aldaviir · 4 years

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Wondrous Tails: Listening to Music / Polyamory Discussion

This is going to be my last official prompt entry for the Wondrous Tails of FFXIV event. It's been an absolute blast, and I suppose no better way then to cap it off on a dual prompt my bingo board just gave me. With my Bard. And the weird road he's taken to get here.

Time Frame: Post Canon (years after Shadowbringers) Very minimal spoilers.

Notes: All characters are aged up. Mentioned possible poly relationship between my WoL and the twins. No, there won't be incest, ship what you like but I still don't think it fits the twins' personalities.

Also I have no idea how I keep writing from Alisaie's perspective but it keeps happening and I'm not even going to argue at this point.

Her brother was hopeless in matters of love. It was something Alisaie had long known about him, especially after having to endure the misplaced affections of several of his numerous crushes in the Studium. But watching him around Alvaar was borderline painful by proxy at times.

She’d thought it odd, the way he had immediately excused himself from the lavish hall of the Canopy as soon as Alvaar had taken up his harp and the amused snort the Bard made as he left. Yet another inside joke between them it seemed, and again one she hadn’t the faintest what it meant.

Having heard Alvaar’s music many times before she knew it wasn’t that he was terrible. In fact, his cheeky quip of being a ‘Bard of Bards’ sounded fairly accurate as she’d seldom met anyone rivaling the pull and sway of that skilled tenor and accompanying harp. Music hadn’t been any form of her specialty or interest in her studies, but she knew enough to tell when someone was good. Hells any random passerby who stopped in could tell that he was exceptional. A fair few had even found a seat and ordered food and drink to enjoy while they waited out yet another of Gridania’s torrential downpours.

Perhaps it was given his long years as a Bard of battle, raising voice and lyre to inspire and weave bolstering magic with his allies, which lent a persuasive pull to his songs. There was a... sincerity, she supposed. Buried deep in every tune ringing off strings and lyrics resonating in his voice. Age old stories and memories wrapped up in each song and if she closed her eyes it was almost as if she could see them herself.

Far off battles for ancient kingdoms. The journey and trials of heroes. The giddiness of a wild flight through open skies. The sorrow and determination of a Queen of ice.

And though there was no trace of Bardsong in his movements, no telltale hum of potent resonance as he wove supportive spells, she could vaguely read a subtle shift of aether. Not enough to invoke anything, but there nonetheless, shifting about him as if charmed by his song.

It explained a great deal she supposed, if his regular singing could tune and prime surrounding aether. Several of his clever tricks and impressive feats in their adventures made more sense if that were the case.

But even if she enjoyed his songs, it wasn’t in her nature to sit idle while the sun was still up. Rising to her feet after an hour she made for the door. A bit of rain didn’t mean she couldn’t explore the indoor market space or perhaps brush up a few skills in one of the practice yards.

It was just as she was clearing the door that a familiar shock of white caught her periphery, surprised to find her twin on the porch still, seated against the corner of the building and sketchbook on his lap. For a moment she pondered leaving him be before discarding the notion. What was the fun of that? Much more interesting to find if he would be too absorbed in his work to notice her approach when she doubled back to try the south exit and creep up over his shoulder that way.

“From memory, dear brother?” she asked abruptly as she studied his half-finished drawing, smirking as Alphinaud startled and almost dropped his charcoal stick. And even if he quickly and quite huffily clapped the book closed, they both knew the damage was done.

“Invasive as ever, dear sister,” he returned flatly.

“You know Alvaar would likely hold still for a portrait if you asked,” she commented lightly, leaning against the corner wall, and crossing her arms over her chest with a smug air.

“It’s just practice,” he murmured. “Nothing I would need him specifically for.”

“Mmm. So why, if I may ask, are you seated out here, in less than ideal conditions, sketching pictures of a man who’s been sitting fairly still and inside with better lighting?” she inquired.

“I like the peace and quiet actually, and ordinarily the privacy, but it seems rather lacking in it today,” he clipped back.

“Funny, I can still hear Alvaar just fine from here. Almost uncannily so...”

At that he merely shook his head and stared out over the lake the Roost overlooked, expression pensive and clearly not in the mood for their usual banter.

“... You should tell him you love him,” Alisaie stated after a moment, glancing down to meet his surprised stare. “Oh please... I’m your twin. I know you’ve been enamored with him longer than I have whether you want to admit it or not.”

A soft noise left his throat, trying for words and clearly meaning to protest before breathing out a heavy sigh and his shoulders slumping in defeat. It was probably one of the most miserable looks she’d seen on him in some time, and the notion of it grated on her nerves far more than she liked.

“And to what end?” he asked quietly. “I’ve no interest in hazarding the bonds we’ve built and driving a wedge between you and I, Alisaie. He seems quite taken with you, so I’ve no wish to jeopardize that for my own self-interest.”

“We’re casual. There’s nothing there for you to jeopardize,” the Red Mage answered simply.

“But you wish there were,” he returned promptly, meeting her gaze with a moment of resigned and knowing maturity.

It was enough to still her reflexive scoff and the lie that wanted to spring from her tongue. Damn it. Even after all these years he still had those moments of being infuriatingly mature. “... I do,” she answered.

“Then I’m not about to hazard that,” he stated firmly.

Sighing deeply, she lifted a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose a moment. “Alphinaud... just because we’re minutes apart does not make me a child needing to be coddled from the world. Don’t sacrifice your own happiness because you believe mine more deserving. I’m a grown woman, I will be able to handle whatever he may choose.”

Silence filled the space between them, only accented by the hiss of rain and distant hum of harp and voice. Brow knitting in irritation as her brother continued to stay mired in his thoughts with no sign of changing his mind, she blew out a slow sigh for patience.

“Who’s to say he picks either of us anyway? .... Who’s to say he won’t pick us both?” she tosses out flippantly.

“Begging your pardon?!” Alphinaud blustered, staring at her in stupefied surprise.

Giving a one-armed shrug she gestured vaguely with her other hand. “I’m just saying that historically, things tend to work out where Alvaar is concerned. You never quite know how they will until they do, but neither will you find out just sitting around being miserable. And I’m not about to thank you for martyring your own feelings on my behalf, Alphinaud. You’re my brother. My twin. The one constant I can count on if no one else. If the world threatening to end several times hasn’t managed to change that, what makes you think the Warrior of Light could either?”

Glancing at him and the sincere surprise and sentiment in his eyes she looked away with a huff, resettling her stance to ease some of the embarrassment she was feeling.

“Do you mean that?” he asked softly.

“Of course I do and you know it. ... Besides, we’ve shared everything else most of our lives. If we could manage to handle sharing Angelo growing up, I think we could manage this too,” she reasoned casually.

“A dog is a far cry from a mutual boyfriend, Alisaie,” Alphinaud mumbled, face staining a bit red even just speaking of it.

“Well it would certainly make a more sensible reason for sharing the same house now wouldn’t it?” she teased, flashing him a grin at the inside joke.

Blinking at her in puzzlement for a moment, he finally gave a soft chuckle when it clicked. “You still remember that? Gods that was... over a decade ago now I think,” he mused tapping at his chin with a knuckle in thought.

“Of course. And I’m still just as intent on spiting that old bat now as I was then,” Alisaie confirmed.

She could still remember with perfect clarity the words Alphinaud had thrown back at their first instructor. An overly prim and proper Roegadyn woman who had picked and pried at them during and after lessons for always being together. ‘What will you do when you’re grown and married?’ she’d challenged them one day, haughty toned and dismissive as she’d stared down at them. ‘We’ll all live in the same house together of course!’ he’d shot back angrily, as if it were the most obvious solution in the world. Because at the time, and to them, it was.

If they weren’t meant to be together, two sides of a coin, why be born twins at all?

Giving an amused snort at the memory she pushed herself upright fully and stretched. “Maybe we can get another dog too. That would be nice.”

“You’re serious?” Alphinaud asked, tone still wary with disbelief.

“Sure. If you pay for it, I may even let you name it this time.”

“Not about the dog, Alisaie,” he sighed, ruffling his hair in exasperation. “You know what I meant.”

“I meant what I said Alphinaud. If you can be fine with whatever outcome happens, I can be fine with it to. If he picks you, or me, neither of us, or even both of us. It won’t change anything between us,” she answered firmly. “But if you don’t tell him because you’re worried about me, I’ll never let you hear the end of it.”

Sitting back against the wall, the Scholar made a slight face at the threat before he looked thoughtful instead of withdrawn. “I’ll... consider it.”

That was progress of some form at least she supposed, and that would have to do for now.

“Very well! But note I do demand payment for my invaluable advice,” she intoned haughtily, drawing herself up grandly before striding away. “Finish up that portrait and leave it in my inn room before sundown and I’ll waive my travel expenses too. If you need me, I’ll be in the markets.”

She didn’t need to look back to know the put-upon expression he’d be making. Just as she knew that half-finished picture of the Bard would be complete and on her bedside table when she retired to it.

“Hey Ali!” Alvaar greeted her cheerily, face flushed from liquor and a slight slur on his words. He was sitting at a table when she arrived back to the Roost during sunset, leaned heavily against the furniture and various bottles littering around him.

“What did you do?” she asked flatly, hands settling on her hips as she surveyed the scene disapprovingly.

“Nothin! Just... playin and singin and need booze fer my throat,” he chirped, smiling brightly.

“And about drunk off your arse. Come on, let’s get you to bed, it’s getting late.” Stepping closer she moved to help him up but stopped when he pressed a hand to her arm and held fast.

“Nah... ahm good. Dun worry bout me,” he soothed, smiling warmly. “Help will be along soon. Always does when I stop playin.”

Raising a brow at him, she sighed and opted to humor him. While she could certainly haul him to bed with the wiry strength she’d gained with her growth spurt and years of Red Mage training, trying to force Alvaar into anything when he didn’t want to was a recipe for failure. And bruises, as she’d learned once before on accident.

Grabbing up the empty bottles she took them to the counter for disposal, perking up at Alvaar’s next enthusiastic greeting while the proprietress made off with the bottles.

“Hey Alphi!”

Turning to watch her brother finally make his appearance from the stairs, she stayed put at the bar and waited. Noting the way Alvaar brightened in that quiet way of his, nodding and answering whatever questions Alphinaud had for him. The way her twin’s expression softened with a lovesick fondness even as he fretted over the Bard gently while Alvaar leaned into him for support instead of the table.

A few years ago, she’d spotted the easy trust between them. How they could speak without words almost as well as Alphinaud and she could. The confidence in each other and way they both eased when together. It had been an alien feeling, vexing in a way she couldn’t describe. Half worried she was losing her brother, and half convinced the flame of a crush she’d held for Alvaar was already a lost cause.

In some way she still worried, but if the many years fighting side by side against the threats of Source and Shards alike hadn’t diminished any of the bonds between them and only managed to strengthen them instead, she told herself there was little reason to pay it much mind.

“Ah, that’s a sight I haven’t seen in some time,” the Elezen woman behind the counter remarked softly, drawing Alisaie’s attention for a moment. She was an almost plain woman, with cropped ashen brown hair and simple dress, but the air of gentle confidence and friendliness was refreshing in a city that tended to huff at outsiders.

“A few years ago it would be almost weekly they would be here, Alvaar entertaining my patrons until he could barely stand, and young Alphinaud finally swooping in to see him off to bed like clockwork,” she mused aloud as if to no one in particular. “Alvaar used to get so sad when he played late into the night after he went to Ishgard. It was as if the sound of a broken heart was on those strings. It’s so nice that his music has its joy again.”

Blinking at her quietly for a moment, she looked back at the pair with a small nod. “Yea, it is,” she murmured.

“And they’ve grown up so much over the years too. Why, I remember when Alphinaud was still almost elbow height! And he used to boss our poor Bard around all the time and Taelis would get so furious with him he’d stomp out at all hours of the day. Of course, at the time Alvaar barely said a word so it was definitely on his behalf… It took Alvaar so long to come out of his shell from when he first arrived here, a fresh young Adventurer looking to help people. Oh, but then there was that nasty rumor in Ul’dah that had them both taking refuge here years ago… and then a few months after that Miss Y’shtola was recovering in one of our suites. They must have been sitting out here together until almost dawn waiting for her to wake up. They’ve been through here so much I almost can’t remember all the tales I’ve heard accompanying each visit...” she mused aloud, voice cheerful as she spoke of days long past.

There were a few beats of pointed silence that stretched between them, both watching silently as Alphinaud gathered Alvaar’s things for him and pressed the Bards harp into his hands so it could be dismissed dutifully.

“They love each other very much I think,” the proprietress mused aloud. “You can see it plain as day in how they look at each other.”

Feeling her heart sink at the ease of that statement and the truth in it, Alisaie looked away, starting to move before the woman spoke again.

“I wonder what adventures he must share with you, Alisaie, for him to look at you so lovingly as well.”

Turning abruptly to stare at her in surprise, she tried for words a moment and only managed a flustered, “W-how?”

Smiling at her kindly the woman raised a finger up with a gesture of confident intuition. “A Mother knows many things. She can always tell when one of her children is so genuinely in love.” Looking back at the pair fondly she continued. “I have always dearly wished for the happiness of the many adventurers and aspiring heroes who have found their way through these doors. So please, I ask you and Alphinaud both to take care of one of my dearest sons, as I know he will take care of you.”

Studying the gentle and proud demeanor of the woman in puzzlement, she was interrupted from whatever she might have said in reply by a loud cry of, “Ali!”

Looking over she noted her brother’s quiet amusement as Alvaar waved at her energetically in his liquor fueled excitement.

“Come on time for bed! I’m not going without you I told Alphi so!” Alvaar announced loudly, shifting his stance needlessly given the Scholar was mostly holding him up at this point anyway.

“Yes, I’m coming,” she called, casting a glance at the proprietress who still smiled at her fondly. Unable to think of anything to say she offered a nod, quickly making tracks as Alvaar whined her name again. Sweeping up under Alvaar’s other arm, she helped Alphinaud to carry his weight towards the suites. “Come on you, that’s enough yelling. Let’s get you to bed,” she chided.

“Okay!” the Bard chirped overly loud again. “Goodnight Mother Miounne!”

“Goodnight Alvaar! Pleasant dreams!” Miounne called fondly, watching the three make their way off to the stairs.

“Yes, you’ve all made Mother very proud indeed,” she murmured to herself fondly.

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heartofsnark · 5 years

Text

A Hope County Christmas (Part One): The Resistance

Notes: Yes, this is late for Christmas and yes, that means the second part is gonna really fucking late for Christmas. But in my defense, I didn’t get the idea and started writing it until the 26th. It was originally suppose to be just one part, but it got real long and I lost some steam in the second part, so it’s gonna take me longer. So, have this and I’ll post the second part....maybe before 2020. I’ve been talking about my Deputy a lot over on my personal @morbidchild182 but this is the first writing I’ve posted with her. I’m still developing her and working on how I write the characters, so.

Summary: It’s Christmas time in Hope County and as one might suspect, it can be hard to find any Christmas spirit to spare with Eden’s Gate waging their holy war. Junior Deputy Dahlia Hale fully suspects this holiday will be spent just as every last day has been spent since they tried to arrest Joseph Seed. But, between the Rye’s incurable optimism and the Seed’s...fascination with her, she can’t say she expected this.

Word Count: 3032

Warnings: Drinking, play fighting, dumb jokes, dumb christmas shenanigans, Ship Tease between Eli and my Deputy, Some sappy bullshit thrown in for good measure. There will be like Yandere Polyseed bullshit in the second part

A harsh cough echoes in Dahlia’s chest, a hacking noise and her lungs constrict. This is her first winter in Montana and it’s absolutely kicking her ass. Eden’s Gate could only hope of making her feel this shitty. Though, to her surprise the peggies haven’t been particularly active lately.

The Seed brothers are originally from Georgia, the deep south just like her, and she wonders if they’re as badly impacted by the cold as she is. Her leather jacket, uniform shirt and tee shirt under it are doing very little to keep out the chill as she rides her motorcycle through the Holland Valley wilderness. Nick and Kim called her over the radio asking her to head over. She’s hoping everything is alright, she’s not sure how much help she’ll be when she can barely feel her limbs.

She parks her motorcycle by the porch, pulling off her helmet and cringing as the cold air hits her face. There are little twinkling Christmas lights across their porch and the roof, even a few strings around the hangar. They’re beautiful, but a part of her worries about it just drawing in angels.

Dahlia rubs her hands together, trying desperate to regain some heat. Her red and irritated nose suddenly feels wet, is her nose running on top of everything? She goes to rub it away, but there’s a fleck of ice clinging to fingers. Something wet pats against her head, is it raining? She looks up towards the sky. Soft white flakes are drifting through the sky.

Snow.

It’s snowing. She’s only seen snow in movies and TV shows, the white puffy flakes touch her cheeks. Ideas of catching snowflakes on her tongue or having snowball fights flicker through her brain, but she disregards it immediately knowing she doesn’t have the time for horseplay.

“Something interesting up there, dep?”

“Huh,” she startles for a minute, seeing Nick standing on the porch and staring up at the sky, “no, sorry, I just, never seen snow before.”

“What, seriously?”

“Louisiana doesn’t get a lot of snow, seen a few hurricanes though.”

“Shit man, that’s just depressing.”

“As is most of my life.”

“Well, come on in.”

“Sure, but, uh, Nick, do you think the lights are a good idea? Might draw-“

Her voice catches in her throat as she steps into the Rye home, it looks like a Christmas wonderland. A giant ornate tree, Christmas music playing on the radio. A tall tree that the top of which nearly scrapes the ceiling, though it’s bare for some reason. Friendly faces all around; Jerome, Mary May, Grace, Sharky, Hurk, Adelaide, Xander, and Jess in a corner hiding away with Cheeseburger nestled at her side. Peaches is getting ear scratches from Sharky. Everyone except Jess is wearing obnoxiously colored Christmas sweaters.

“Those peggies have taken so much from us, I’ll be damned if they’re taking Christmas too,” Nick declares and she can’t help but smile at his determination.

A few barks ring out and before Dahlia knows it two dog paws have landed on her waist, Boomer demanding her attention. He’s almost as bad as John.

“Hey, boy,” she coos scratching behind his ears and laughing as he gives her a few kisses.

“Deputy,” Kim makes her way over, Boomer moving so she can give Dahlia a big hug, “I’m so happy you could make it out here, I know you’re busy with…everything. It means a lot.”

“Uh, what’s exactly going on, I thought you guys needed my help with something?”

“It’s a trap, Rook,” Jess calls out from her corner and Kim rolls her eyes.

“It’s a holiday party, we have one every year and we aren’t letting the peggies ruin it, here.” Kim hands over a white fluffy sweater, the less ugly of any of the ones she’s seen on her friends. When she unfolds it, she sees a little polar bear face with a sprig of mistletoe by its ear.

“Uh…”

“It’s Christmas, everyone has to wear a Christmas sweater.”

“Except Jess, she threatened to bite me,” Nick says, shooting a slightly fearful look towards the woman.

“I mean, I’d be happy to bite you too, hon,” Adelaide calls out with a flirtatious wink, Kim rolling her eyes as Nick visibly cringes.

“Please, dep, just put on the sweater.”

Dahlia shrugs her shoulders, if her wearing a damn sweater will make them even a little bit happier, it’s more than worth it. The couple has endured enough bullshit with Eden’s Gate, the least she can do is wear a damn sweater. She pulls off her leather jacket and uniform shirt.

“Woo, take it off!” Sharky yells out, grinning like a dumbass and Dahlia’s face flushes red, shooting her favorite pyromaniac a death glare before she tugs the sweater on over her tee.

It’s large, white, fluffy, and feels completely out of place on her. She feels like she looks odd without an outfit that’s at least ninety percent black.

“I can’t stay long,” Dahlia warns as she ties her hair back in a stubby ponytail.

“The lord does permit days of rest, Deputy.”

“Good for him, but I got shit to do,” She tells Jerome as she meanders towards a place to sit, eventually settling somewhere between Sharky and Jess, back tight against a wall and knees pulled up to her chest.

“You deserve a day to take it easy, here,” Kim hands her a mug of eggnog, an odd smell coming off it. It’s probably fine. She takes a drink and the burn of rum hits her, she nearly sputters. Kim laughing at her.

“Can’t handle your booze, Rook?” Grace asks, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Firstly, I legally can’t drink, secondly this is barely fuckin’ eggnog at this point.”

“Eh, who’s gonna arrest you, you?”

“You’re old enough to risk your ass for us, you’re old enough to drink,” Mary May says, taking a swig of her own drink.

Dahlia shrugs, she did drink a little when she was a minor, but stopped when she became a cop. Based on principle alone. But, fuck she’s never actually liked the taste. She’s not convinced anyone really does. At that same time, Nick steps into the room a Santa hat tilted on his head, where he’s stretched over his cap. In his arms are movies, games, and more booze.

“Ol’ Saint Nick!” Sharky yells out and a chorus of groans follow his stupid joke.

“Figure, we’ll watch a movie, get everyone in the spirit, before we play some games.”

“You mean get everyone drunk,” Kim teases, the only one not drinking the spiked eggnog.

“Same thing.” Nick grins and shrugs as he puts some Christmas movie in, Boomer lays against Dahlia’s side as the bullshit movie starts to play.

“What the hell is that woman doing?” An extra looks directly at the camera.

“Who the fuck talks like that?” The acting is awful.

“Oh god, child actors.” The child acting is worse.

“I’m like, pretty sure that’s a federal offense.” You can’t just look through someone’s mail.

“Eh, who hasn’t committed a federal offense.”

“Most people Sharky, most people.”

“Wait that’s the plot, getting her uncle a girlfriend, oh my god.” The plot is stupid

“Ooh, I wouldn’t mind him stuffing my stocking.” The main actor is easy on the eyes.

“Addie, no.”

“Wait, why the hell did he say it was done, if he hadn’t started cookin’ it yet?”

“Fantastic question.”

“What? What? What?!” This makes no sense.

“Holy shit, Adelaide in five years,” Dahlia blurts out when a perverted granny shows up.

“Five years!? How old do you think I am, Rook?!”

“No comment.”

“You don’t look a day over thirty.”

“She’s your aunt, Sharky.”

“Shut it.”

“Is she an elf? Oh my god, is she a fuckin’ elf?”

“Did she just realize she looks like she dressed in the dark?”

“She took her glasses off, so she’s no longer ugly, ‘cause…y’know.”

“The audio is so bad, holy shit, what are they even saying.”

“That looks awful.”

They’re about halfway through the movie, everyone finding every chance to chime in some comment about the crap on screen. She’s drained two mugs of the spiked eggnog, her cheeks red from booze and laughing. Dahlia’s lost count of how many cookies she’s crammed into her mouth.

The movie finishes and she no longer feel like she’s in any state to take on a cult. Not drunk, but tipsy as all hell. Judging by the flushed cheeks around her, no one is any better off except Kim who once credits are rolling suggest making ornaments and decorating the tree.

Trusting drunk dumbasses to decorate the tree, brilliant.

It’s a disaster. Of course, it is.

Jerome makes some decent angel ones, but the religious aesthetic of anything has been ruined for everyone lately. Mary May’s Santa is holding a beer. Jess’s just has ‘Fuck Off’ scribbled across it. Xander and Adelaide keep trying to have sex puns about crafts, too drunk for any of them to be subtle. Grace’s gun ornament is surprisingly well done, but not particularly Christmas-y. Nick’s attempt to make a plane looks like a lumpy disaster. Hurk and Sharky keep trying to put a dick and or flames on everything. At some point someone throws glitter.

It was her.

Sharky tried to draw a dick on her star, so she started throwing glitter at his dumb face. Now there’s glitter everywhere, the Rye’s home will never be free of it. Also, there’s gold glitter glue on her hands and hair where she tried to push it back, because tools are for fools.

Then her radio crackles to life, ah fuck, she tries to rub the worse of the glue off onto her jeans before grabbing it.

“Hey,” she manages to slur even the shortest word and everyone her is snickering.

“Deputy, it’s Eli from the Whitetails.”

“I don’t know any other Eli, you don’t have to clarify, Mountain Man.”

“Right, uh, sorry. Heard about the Rye’s party, knew you were over that way. I, uh, wanted to make sure you weren’t running yourself ragged.”

“Wanted to check in on his girlfriend,” Wheaty teases in the background and Dahlia’s face flushes brighter red, not from the booze. Everyone around her starts to laugh

“Don’t you have something else to do?” Eli retorts and she can practically hear the embarrassment in his voice.

“Don’t worry, Eli, I’m at the Rye’s being supplied with way too much booze.”

“That’s good, well not good that you’re getting drunk, not that I care if you get drunk, I don’t think. I just mean it’s good you’re with friends and y’know what, I’ll stop talking.”

She can’t help but laugh, he hasn’t been this awkward with her since he talked about shaving his beard and wondering if it made him look crazy.

“Hey, maybe next time I’m in that area, we can see if we can convince Chad to make some Christmas grub and have a little celebration at the Wolf’s Den?”

Why did she make that offer, she didn’t even want one celebration, why is she doing this? It’s so impractical, why the fuck would Eli want that? She pushes hair back out of her face, she’s so stupid.

“That sounds nice.”

“It does? It does. Cool.”

“Well, uh, Merry Christmas, Rook.”

“Merry Christmas, Eli.”

The radio call ends, and Dahlia lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, all eyes are on her. Some confused and others smirking at the little exchange.

“Never knew you liked ‘em older, deputy.”

“Fuck off.”

“You really shouldn’t have done that to your hair either,” Jess tells her, smirking. Her bangs fall back in her face and Dahlia sees the gold glitter glue now clinging to the dark locks.

“God damn it.”

“Looks like you were too distracted drooling over your mountain man,” Jess mocks Dahlia with an overly sappy voice. Dahlia smirks back, revenge already in her mind.

“Aww,” she cups Jess’s cheeks in her two-glitter glue covered hands, “that was so cute of you.” Dahlia smears it down Jess’s cheeks leaving a mess.

Jess’s green eyes narrow, a weaker woman might freak out at the anger shown in them. But, Dahlia knows too well that there’s a hint of mischief there, it’s all in good fun. The Junior Deputy pulls her hands away from the Survivalist’s face.

“No killing in the house,” Kim warns and that’s all that’s said before Jess is launching over the table to try to grab Dahlia who’s already dropped down and jolted under it, the two switching sides before the deputy breaks into a run.

Their movements are clumsier and slower than usual, booze slowing them down. Dahlia takes the stairs two at a time, giggling as she tries to evade her friend. Jess’s hands nearly latch onto her sweater and Dahlia promptly jumps over the stair banister, boots hitting the floor with a heavy thud.

“No breaking your ankles in the house!”

“Sorry, Kim, oh god!”

Jess is on Dahlia’s back, bringing her down to the ground and laughing as the deputy collapses under her weight. She’s trying to put her in a headlock, as Dahlia attempts to wrestle out of it. The entire party laughing at their horseplay. She swears she hear Sharky or Hurk saying something about needing a mud pit, but she’s too focused on play wrestling to yell at the perverts.

Her radio crackles again and through the struggling Dahlia manages to answer it.

“Rook, heard the Rye’s invited you over for Christmas,” Whitehorse’s voice comes through.

“That they did,” she struggles to respond as she’s using one hand to fend off Jess.

“Hey, sheriff!”

“He can’t see you waving Nick.”

Dahlia cracks, a fatal mistake as Jess uses it to get the headlock.

“Good, I was worried about you, Rook, thought you’d be running around while everyone else took the day off. I know shit’s tough right now but taking time to celebrate the little stuff is what’s gonna keep you going. Merry Christmas.”

“You guys doing anything special at the jail?” She asks as she tries to squirm away, finally just giving up and trying to stand up with Jess on her back and arms around her neck. It’s a piss poor excuse for a piggyback ride, but whatever.

“Virgil’s trying to get someone to cut down a tree, Tracey ain’t having any of it.”

“I can do that.”

“You’re not chopping down a Christmas tree, Rook, Jesus Christ,” Tracey grumbles in the background.

“You’ve already done more than enough, hell, if it wasn’t for you…well there are a lot of people who wouldn’t be here to see Christmas this year. Enjoy your party.”

“Yeah…Merry Christmas.”

Dahlia feels her eyes sting, she doesn’t expect praise or even acknowledgment of the things she’s done. It still seems so foreign, the idea that she’s actually saved people. That people are here, alive and safe, because of her actions. She can never see herself as a hero, but to some people she truly is.

Jess’s arms on her loosen, before the woman just hops right off of her. A soft smile replacing the mischievous little grin. She squeezes Dahlia’s shoulder, a silent understanding that Jess is one of those people. If not for Dahlia, she’d be spending this Christmas in a cage, if she was lucky. But, now she’s spending it in a rare moment of joy and peace.

“Come on, we gotta decorate the tree..”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

Jess and Dahlia rejoin the party, feral energy out of their system for the time being. The tree looks like a mess. Everyone’s ornament a disaster and the whole thing looking like an incomprehensible disaster. Nothing goes together. None of it makes sense, but it has…character. Dahlia goes to hang her own bad star ornament after hanging the last bit of tinsel. But, it’s nowhere to be found.

“Here,” Kim hands it to her, but the sloppily coated star no longer has a string, instead on a little cap to be used as the tree topper. It’s an extremely sweet gesture, but…

“I can’t reach.” Dahlia makes a show of trying to stretch her hand up to touch the top of the tree, only to come up embarrassingly short.

“Don’t worry, I gotcha bromigo,” Hurk declares before hefting Dahlia up onto his shoulders, she can’t help but laugh, but places her messy star at the top of the tree. Hurk putting her back down with ease.

“It’s certainly…different.”

“It always an adventure to see how it turns out every year.”

“I’m sure it.”

Another crackle from her radio.

“Who’s calling now?” Nick asks, taking another drink of eggnog.

“Eh, probably just Dutch checking in,” Dahlia answers it, “don’t worry, I’m at the party and I’m taking a break for Christmas.”

“That’s wonderful to know, dep-yoo-tee,” John’s voice sobers her, like a bucket of ice water’s splashed in her face, the entire party going silent as he drags out each syllable.

“The fuck do you want?”

“Easy now, Little Miss Wrath, I haven’t even done anything and you’re already foaming at the mouth.”

“Yet, you haven’t done anything, yet.”

“Someone who doesn’t believe in prophets, claiming to know the future, how ironic.”

“Get to the point, Johnny Boy.”

“I do hope, you’ll be more patient once you fully join our family.”

“You got five more seconds before I hang up and get back to drinking. One, two,-”

“While we don’t celebrate Christmas quite the same as sinners do, the holidays still marks an important time of togetherness.”

“Good for you…Can I go now?”

“Me, my brothers and sister like to spend this time of year together, as a family.”

“I’m gonna blow my brains out from boredom, Johnny.”

“A family dinner requires the whole family, dep-yoo-tee, even the members who’ve yet to accept their role.”

“Are…are you threatening to kidnap me for Christmas dinner?!”

“Depends, will you come of your own volition?”

“Fuck no.”

“Then, I’m afraid you leave me no choice. I’ll be seeing you shortly, dear.”

#far cry 5 #fc5 #nick rye #sharky boshaw #jess black #adelaide drubman #hurk drubman jr #grace armstrong #eli palmer #mary may fairgrave #jerome jeffries #dahlia hale #kim rye #john seed #my first writing to be posted for the fandom #it's probably garbage #but take it

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grownups-are-the-real-monsters · 5 years

Text

Alone Again (Naturally)

Summary: Bill pursed his lips. “I think-...yes. Yes I did.” He didn’t sound too sure about it which she found odd but decided to let that pass until he brought that up for himself, if ever. “I ran with a group. I can’t give names but I can feel it sometimes. Those summer days and shit.” He chuckled. “Jesus, they must have been my best friends in this shitty world...-Pardon my French if you’re a religious man.” He laughed in an eerie way that time.

Word Count: 2,702

Ships: Bill/Audra, mentions of Reddie

{October, 1964. Still-shot of large suburban home. A pile of dry orange leaves marks the lawn. There is a concave dent in the right side which caused an autumn invasion in the grass, suggesting the playfulness of children in the home-}

Bill Denbrough sniffled to choke back a nervous nose-bleed and set aside the movie script.

His coffee table was glass plated so he could see the mound of crumpled papers that were burrowed into the maroon carpet. He tried hard not to think about the mix of faded words typed across those folds because they’d cost him a social life to write but they’d been seen & rejected.

He was the leading man in this shit-show he called a life and he so desperately craved a cigarette. He’d never been that much of a smokin’ kind of guy but it was just that kind of night.

The body of the lonesome drip he was being was thrown over the bar counter in the Hotel’s finest drink station. That’s where he was physically. Mentally? He was on the porch on that fake October 1964 autumn day. It was much better than admitting to himself that at least six or seven people had already walked past him with expressions of concern and pity. He’d much rather be inside his own story like being trapped an oil painting.

Rather, just the beginning of his story. He’d not want to even touch the ending which had somehow become inexplicably horrifying in the process of writing. It was something he absolutely adored on paper but didn’t want to live for himself...though something about it spoke to him in a familiar voice.

“Howdy partner.” Came an irritably cute voice from over his shoulder.

Sure enough, bathed in the flickering gold lights was the tallest drink of water. Audra Phillips was sporting a criminally cute smirk and bouncing on her toes. There was a lovely painting of a sunset behind her head that framed her well. It was the picture of whatever cowboy western movie Bill couldn’t think of where the lead woman sparks fire in the cowboy’s interest...or whatever.

She strolled on over and leaned her crossed forearms atop his legs which laid across the bar. “I tease, sorry.” She gleamed. He knew she’d done the southern accent to simply bounce off his past jokes about the ghost of a British accent she had now yet didn’t come with at birth.

“Hey, hey, hey Audra. You come for a drinking buddy?” He flicked his empty glass and she let her long honey hair fall a bit into his lap when she twisted to look up at him.

“Not tonight, Bill.” She winked. “Just wanted to see how you were....” Her voice faded as she pinched some loose jean fabric that hovered above his knee. “I just that part in the screen-play where-...” The woman begins to mime stabbing her right eye “The man accidentally stabs himself with those kids craft scissors when he trips, you know...?”

Bill nodded with an amused smirk.

Audra begins to giggle. “Do we, in the film, have the artistic license to change the color of the scissors from blue to purple?” She could barely ask without starting to giggle again and Bill wondered if she’d started to drink before him.

He raised a brow and crossed his arms in a funny way. “No. You see, the blue symbolizes the sorrow that character had been feeling, Audraaaaa.” He pinched her. “Why do you ask?”

She ceased her giggling. “I wanted to see if authors really do hide deep, meaningful symbols in...the simplest of places.” She shrugged and Bill found her presence incredibly endearing.

“They do...but not with that. You could change that. I was lying.” He laughed and heaved his body around to hang his legs over the side of the bar while Audra leaned against it to his right. She giggled again.

“Why do you write such...horrifying stories?” her voice went velvet soft.

Bill considered her question and hummed. “I don’t know. Quite honestly, it does seem pointless, huh?” He took on a minor British accent for some odd reason. “Where do I get off scaring all these people.” He laughed.

“I’m concerned about where it comes from...is all.” She glanced into his eyes and shrugged.

“You think I’m...messed up, Audra?” He laughed though it was astoundingly not funny. His favorite gal just shrugged again.

“There just stories. They scare ya for a minute or two before you forget em’. This is just my time to be...spitting blood into the wind...” He gestured out in the open. “It’s all pointless but...I love it.” His hand fell back into his lap.

“More than a minute or two...those craft scissors might as well be stabbed through my eye right now with how often the image pops up in my mind.” She shook at the thought.

“Pop it goes, huh?.” Bill mocked in her accent again. “Like a balloon...only the balloon is your swelled eye tied to no string but your spindly nerves.” He chuckled, wiping his chin.

Audra gagged. “Disgusting. Keep going, Billy and I might revisit my dinner.” The gag choked into another round of giggles but Bill had danced off in side-tracked thoughts.

“My brother called me Billy.” Was all he said and he figured he’d been silent far too long because his girl glanced up with minor shock and concern.

“George?”

Bill nodded and swung his legs back and forth slowly. The two of them exchanged looks and fell silent again. Outside the hotel, snow was hurling towards the grounds of New York and burying itself between the cracks of the side-walk. There was a particularly nasty crack just outside and around the block. Many ‘walk-arounders’ would trip on it the next morning. Including a man that Bill Denbrough might have once recognized as Eddie Kaspbrak. It’d be a freezing night and an even brisker morning by the look of it.

Audra could’ve asked about the screenplay many crew-members were intensely curious about but upon seeing her friend sitting there, perched on the bar, she decided it was far from a good time. There’d been something so...off about him lately. She batted her eyelashes and turned again to face the bar, slapping her hands in a playful tune to which Bill responded by ruffling her hair.

“It seems to me...-” He started and hooked his gal instantly only to fade his voice out once again. But with the soft look of concern painted across Audra’s young and wonderful face, he decided to suck it up. “I cried for three days straight when my father died, you know that?”

That stopped Audra’s heart for a solid minute or two and he couldn’t blame that wide-eyed deer expression because what a sentence twist.

“That third day...I think a lot of those tears came from the fact that I knew it would soon be my turn to be that tired old man.” Bill shrugged. “I miss when the turn from Summer to Fall was dreaded because of ‘back-to-school’ and not because the threat of seasonal depression was very real for me, y’know Audra?” He thumped his palms against his jeans and was grinning kind of wickedly.

The ‘back-to-school’ girl that had once been in Audra was also long gone because she was approaching thirty-two. So she nodded with understanding.

“I didn’t want to admit that some of the tears might have also been genuine fear to return home for preparations.”

Audra raised a gentle brow and rubbed his thigh for comfort.

“I was scared to go home...to that town, Audra.” He met her eyes and something ignited a frightening flame. “I don’t know why...but I could have thrown up thinking about having to go home just for my fathers funeral...I didn’t want to go at all. Does that make me a bad person?” His speech was starting to frighten his company but it felt uniquely euphoric to get this shit out of him. “Didn’t end up mattering anyway. My parents had moved up to Castle Rock just some months before and didn’t bother telling me. They could be a little...neglectful with me sometimes. I don’t consciously hold it against them.”

Audra reached for his folded hand and rubbed something circles against his skin with her thumb.

“My mother...” Bill leaned back on the beam and sighed. “Bless her but she...” he raised his hand and let it fall back into his lap. “Has just been having such a difficult time accepting that the only man she loved is gone and when you pair that with the long-lost littlest son from years ago...she’s a wreck. I try to encourage...to get her to keep going but...” He spared the phone hanging on the wall nearby a quick glance and scratched under his chin.

“A big brother without a little brother...well he’s lost the years of practice with encouraging talks that he could’ve had with him. So, this thing with my mother is...bigger than me, Audra.” Bill downcast his eyes and Audra could see that small-town living behind them.

She breathed in deeply and gave him the softest smile that she could manage. “Bill, my friend...” She squeezed his hand. “That’s a lot to take in so I can’t imagine how it felt to have that living in your chest. Thank you for sharing it with me. I think of us as...good friends...best friends even?”

Bill nodded his head. It wasn’t quite like the friendships of his childhood which had long since slipped his mind of true clarity but his thing with Audra was it’s own special kind.

“Good.” She nodded back, cheeks blushed. “So let’s take a step back, yeah? Instead of sitting at this bar like a couple of...”

“Sad sacks?”

Audra giggled and thumped his leg. “Yes, Sad sacks. Let’s take a walk in this Christmas snow. Forget the film...” She gestured back towards the halls of hotel room doors. “And let’s go buy those batteries I need from Walgreen's or something.” She shrugged and helped Bill hop off the bar.

“You still haven’t bought those damn things? What has your remote been dead for two weeks now, Audra?” He chuckled, taking her arm in arm as they strolled out of the fancy building.

“I haven’t watched television since! I keep forgetting.”

They laughed into the night. Audra’s warm giggle was enough to blanket the freezing air for a little while.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The convenience store was littered with glittering Christmas bulbs, string-lights and wonderfully home-made crafted wooden Santas.

Audra waited patiently for Bill’s return and flirted with purchasing a particularly adorable blushing Santa Claus while the hot chocolate in her hands kept her warm.

Elvis was singing of those classic Silver Bells that she ached to hear over the loudspeaker. It was enough to make the girl want to move on over to stand right under it which she did...only there was a minor bump on the way who ended up being a man.

She chuckled nervously. “I’m so sorry...I should watch where I’m going, shouldn’t I? Oh my, I got this all over you!?” Audra barely made eye-contact and hovered her hand close to where her hot chocolate had become stains on the guys shirt.

His hand came to block her view and she first noticed the little pinky ring he sported and then she finally picked her head up to find his face. “It’s fine-don’t worry about it. A little hot, is all. But no big deal.” The man sounded a little frustrated as he fanned his shirt away from his chest a little but Audra could tell he wasn’t about to have a fit over it. “If I wore that sweater like my girlfriend had begged me, the cable-knit might’ve soaked up all the chocolate before it even got to touch me, huh?” He was kind of mumbling that more to himself but Audra giggled anyway.

“Maybe so. A free drink for those knitted Reindeer...” She chuckled awkwardly at the sad attempt for a joke but the man genuinely giggled.

“Actually, no deer. Just some snow-flakes...she knitted it herself. Took a class every Tuesday & Thursday’s for a while before she got homesick.” He laughed again and his smile was handsome and kinda dopey but in the cutest way. Audra tilted her head and got a picture of that Norman Bates fellow from that ‘Psycho’ film. She hummed.

“You sure-?”

“Yeah-yes. You’re totally fine. It’s just a shirt.” The man pulled his jacket over the shirt and zipped it tightly as if to display this opinion. Audra nodded with a kind grin before turning back and finding Bill standing at the counter without the new prize of candy bars she’d collected.

“I’ll be off then, thanks for the kindness.” She patted his arm and with his nod of understanding, she took off for Bill once again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“In that small-town of yours...?” Audra started, standing in scary waters as Bill took on a curious eye. “Do you remember having any friends? Or was it...that bad?” She blinked, not sure why she was asking but she didn’t like to think her good friend was just so lonely in a place that reduced him to tears just some time ago.

Bill pursed his lips. “I think-...yes. Yes I did.” He didn’t sound too sure about it which she found odd but decided to let that pass until he brought that up for himself, if ever. “I ran with a group. I can’t give names but I can feel it sometimes. Those summer days and shit.” He chuckled. “Jesus, they must have been my best friends in this shitty world...-Pardon my French if you’re a religious man.” He laughed in an eerie way that time.

“Can you miss people you barely remember?”

“I should think so.” Audra rubbed up and down his arm. “If they were as amazing as you make it sound...then of course. Life passes us by and takes some of our memories but not our feelings.” Audra didn’t want to glance up...in fear that small-town was back in Bill’s stare.

“Eddie....” Bill mumbled, kicking a pebble down the street like it would be their map. Wherever it rolled, whichever street, the two of them would follow it. “I remember-...him. A bit.

Audra nodded, letting him have his map.

“We were gonna build a dam or....I dunno.” Bill sniffled, letting the memory go. “I remember a bike ride where I could barely see through a film of tears...-” He broke to laugh though it wasn’t very funny. “But that might’ve been Richie...? Seemed to me that he might’ve looked at Ed’s the way I look at you.” He shook his head with a grin and kicked his little Eddie memory pebble. They took the next street in which it had rolled.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Audra and Bill were giggling messes as they took on the Hotel’s stairs and flung themselves through the revolving doors. It was the most euphoric sense of relief either of them had experienced in a long time.

Her fingernails picked at the wrapper hanging over her fist which was curled around half a chocolate bar. They went back to silence as they strolled back to the bar and listened to the distant cries of Christmas tunes.

“You gonna be alright to sleep? Or are you going to stay up writing?” Audra poked his arm and Bill shrugged. It didn’t seem to be the confident answer of ‘sleeping sounds good’ that she wanted so Bill poked her back gently.

“I’ll be fine, Audra. Thank you...you know for...” He gestured and his gal nodded to her man.

“No thanks needed.” She leaned against his arm briefly, kissed his cheek and started on her way back to her room. Both of them felt the gentle idea of asking the other to their room but neither had the courage to ask. Instead, Bill watched her walk off with a blushing wave and Audra stole quick glances of him as she left him in that lobby.

#this is like the first writing piece I've finished since this depression #I LOVE IT #???#idk i just do #pls read and reblog if you do too #bill denbrough #audra phillips #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #reddie #the losers club #it chapter 2 #it chapter two #it chapter 1 #my fanfiction

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ive-got-99-problems · 5 years

Text

In The Woods (Rocket x OC)

Max, the hunters, and the characters in the town, the rest belong to Marvel! <3

The art is also done by me.

------

Chapter 16, 4 Years Later (Sexual Content)

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Nebula gazed at the small wooden cabin, smoke slowly rising from the chimney as the clanging of metal against metal could be heard from the truck in front of her. It had taken her a while to find this place, the forest was dense which meant that she had to fly an extra couple of miles before she could land. When she did she then had to deal with the walking and all the stares and questions she received when entering the small town. That in itself took forever, asking people if they've seen a 'fox' with a red scarf and blue jumpsuit made people look at her as if she was insane.

That was until she met an older fellow with a gruff voice and dirty nails with a bullet wound in his shoulder. He told her about the cabin, saying that the girl who lived there might know where he was, hell, he might even be there. Nebula just nodded and walked off, hoping that the man was right and she didn't have to spend all day in the woods trying to find Rocket.

She stared at the truck, the noise coming from it stopped only to be replaced with soft swears, the voice sounded familiar. She walked around the truck and stopped when she saw Rocket, sitting hunched over on the ground and rubbing his hand softly. He looked different from the last she had seen him, he seemed cleaner, less tense, had a little chubby, and his clothes were completely different. Instead of the jumpsuit and scarf she was used to, he was now wearing jeans and a brown t-shirt.

Rocket's head snapped up when he sensed her presence, "Nebula?"

"Rocket," she answered with a nod.

"Wha-What're you doin' here?" He questioned as he stood to his feet.

"We need your help, Rocket," she answered bluntly.

"We?"

"The Avengers have found a way to get the Infinity Stones, they need as much help as they can in order to bring them back."

Rocket scoffed as he reached down and picked up the wrench that laid next to him, walking over to a case filled with tools and set it inside, "Infinity Stones, huh? And how're they goin' to get them back?"

Nebula was silent for a moment, "Time travel."

Rocket burst out into laughter, "Are you fuckin' jokin'!? Time travel!? How do they hell do they know it's even goin' to work?"

"Because they have tested it, Rocket," Nebula answered, "It works."

Rocket just scoffed and shook his head as he rummaged through his tools, "Even if it does work, I already went through all that shit once, I ain't goin' through it again."

"Rocket, if we do this we can bring everyone back," she paused for a moment, "We can bring back the Guardians, we can bring back Groot."

Rocket tensed at the name, the thought of his son coming back to him made his heart skip. He sighed and placed his hands on the small table in front of him.

"And this will work?"

She nodded, "They have everything figured out, they just need you and Thor. They were hoping you would go talk to him, he seems to trust you."

He was silent for a moment as he thought about how if this worked then his family would come back, but if it didn't, then he could lose everything all over again, including Max.

"Rocket!"

His head shot up as he heard the door to the cabin opened and Max emerged. She wore her grape purple satin bathrobe, her hair damp and her green eyes wide as she stared at Nebula. Max had matured a lot over the past four years, both physically and mentally. She had now fully recovered from her father's death and had even begun talking about having children with Rocket.

She stood on the porch, arms wrapped around herself as she watched the two, "You must be Nebula, right?"

Nebula gave her a suspicious look, "Rocket, is this woman a friend of yours?"

He nodded, "Yeah, uh Maxie this is Nebula, Nebula, Maxie."

Max walked down the stairs of the porch and held out her hand as she gave a smile, "It's nice to finally meet you Nebula, Rocket has told me a lot about you."

Nebula stared at her hand cautiously before slowly shaking it, she was quick to pull away and stared down at Rocket, "Rocket, what is your decision?"

"Decision?" Max questioned as she stared down at Rocket.

Rocket winced, "Yeah, uh, I'm going to need to talk to Max about this. Go ahead and wait in the living room while we talk."

Nebula nodded and the three of them entered the cabin, Nebula watching as Max and Rocket made their way to the bedroom that used to belong to Max's father.

Max sat on the bed and watched as Rocket closed the door, his body tense and his eyes avoiding hers.

"Rocket, what's wrong?" She questioned, her face riddled with concern.

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, "Max, Nebula needs my help, she uh, she said that the Avengers found a way to undo all of this shit."

Her eyes widened, "Seriously, how?"

"Time travel."

She looked down at him with confusion, "Time travel?"

"Yeah, I know it sounds ridiculous but it might work."

"Might or will?"

He was silent for a moment, "Well, I'm hopin' it will."

She shook her head, "There's no way in hell I'm going to let you go back in time and square up against Thanos if it only might work."

"I don't think we'll be fightin' Thanos again, it'd be stupid to."

"Stupid is an understatement," she grumbled as she crossed her arms.

Rocket jumped up onto the bed and sat next to her, his hand resting on her arm.

"Maxie, listen to me, if we do this we could bring everyone back, including your father."

Her body tensed, she slowly turned to him, "But what if it doesn't?"

He was silent for a moment, "Then," he paused, "Then we don't. But we can't think like that, you have to trust me that this'll work."

"I do Rocket, I just don't trust the method you're using. I mean, time travel? Can't that fuck up the space-time continuum, and what if someone fucks something up and ends up totally altering our current reality?"

He shrugged, "That's just a risk we'll have to take, it's either that or we continue to live in a broken galaxy."

She sighed, "Rocket, I want my father to come back, but I don't want to lose you in the process."

He rested his hand on her cheek, "You won't, and if you do, feel free to go back in time and kill me."

She laughed as she gripped his hand, she kissed his palm and looked at him with concern, "If this is what you want, then go ahead, just promise you'll come back to me alive and in one piece."

He smiled, "I promise."

-----

Rocket grunted as he finally managed to get his backpack zipped up.

"Fuck, Max, think you put enough shit in this?" Rocket grumbled as he adjusted his goggles, now back in his old jumpsuit and scarf.

"Can never be too prepared," she smiled as she handed him his pistol. She frowned as she looked at him, fully dressed and ready to leave, "How long do you think you'll be gone?"

He shrugged, "I dunno, for you it'll probably be a day or so."

She laughed, "Should I expect an old man when you come back?"

He chuckled, "I sure as hell hope not, I wanna have kids before I get too old to."

"Well, if you get stuck in the past you have my permission to fuck someone."

"Thanks, Maxie," he smirked as he kissed her lips.

She cupped his cheeks, her fingers running through his fur. He began to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding into her mouth and rubbing against hers causing her to let out a whimper.

"Shit, Rocket," she whispered as she pulled away.

He chuckled, a sly grin plastered onto his face, "What is it, Maxie, you horny for me?"

She scoffed, "Oh shut up Rocket, come on, you better get going."

"Oh no, no, no, I ain't done with you," he purred as he took her hand and led her to the bed.

"Rocket, Nebula is outside waiting for you, we can't-"

"Baldy can wait a couple of minutes, now lay on the bed."

She laughed, "A couple of minutes? How bold of you to assume you can get me to cum so quickly."

He chuckled as he hopped onto the bed, standing over her as she reluctantly laid down, "Oh baby, I know I can get you to cum in less than five."

"Really? I'd like to see you try."

Rocket growled, throwing open her robe to expose her bare breasts and panties.

He licked his chops as he stared down, "Fuck, you're so fucking gorgeous."

Max whimpered as he licked her clothed womanhood, his hands grabbing the waistband before pulling them off completely. His mouth dove into her soft mound, moaning at the sweet smell she admitted. That's when he got an idea. He smirked as he stared up at her, her eyes shut as she moaned his name softly. He grabbed her panties and rubbed them against her wet hole.

Max's eye opened at the foreign feeling, she sat up on her elbows and stared down at him, "Rocket, what're you doing?"

"Just gettin' something to help me if I get homesick," he purred before pushing her panties inside of her tight cunt.

She whimpered, the texture feeling odd against her slick walls. It wasn't long before Rocket had her panties all the way inside of her. She arched her back as he suckled on her clit, wanting her to get the panties as wet as possible.

"F-Fuck, Rocket," she cried as she writhed against the bed.

He chuckled against her clit, "What is it baby, you gettin' close?"

"You, you wish," she panted before letting out a gasp as his canines nicked her sensitive nub.

Rocket groaned against her clit, his cock hard in his jumpsuit, he'd have to rub one out on the ship before they went to pick up Bruce. Her hips snapped upward into his mouth as he pushed against her, his hands on her hips, trying to pin her down.

"Fuck, fuck, Rocket," she whimpered.

"That's it, baby girl, that's it. Come on, I want you to cum on your panties, I fuckin' want you to drench them with your juices. Fuck baby, you taste so fucking good, fuck, come on baby, come on, do it for daddy, cum for daddy."

Her back arched almost painfully as she screamed out, "Fuck, oh fuck, Rocket, Rocket, oh Rocket!"

Her legs shook as her walls tightened around the panties, Rocket still sucking on her little nub until she was whimpering for him to stop. He let go with a soft 'pop,' staring at her pussy before placing a kiss onto her sensitive little nub one last time. She let out a soft moan as he pulled her panties out of her, he smirked as he stared down at them, thankful that they were black so he could see the fluid better.

"Rocket," she whispered, trying to reach for his cock.

"No, no, Maxie," he gently pushed her hand away, "Like you said earlier, Nebula's waitin' for me."

"You asshole," she panted.

He merely chuckled and leaned down to kiss her, "You love me for it."

She smirked against his lips, "Sometimes," the only sound in the room was their labored breathing and soft moans. Rocket eventually pulled away, reluctant to leave her, "Rocket," she breathed, "Please come back to me."

He gave her a reassuring smile as he held her close to him, "I will, Maxie, I promise."

#rocket raccoon #oc #guardians of the galaxy #fanfiction #endgame #avengers endgame #Smut

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toraleistripe · 5 years

Text

Dinner Together

Fandom(s): Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse

Crossover: no

Summary: Noir’s friend Julia ends up Miles’ dimension with him and is afraid that none of them will get home, finding comfort in a lovestruck cartoon pig.

Character(s): Spider-Ham, Julia (OC)

Pairing(s): one-sided Ham/Julia

A/N: Okay, so these two started off as a one-sided ship not long after I saw Into the Spider-Verse for the first time. I just love them together. Originally written 01/09/19.

Warnings: none

Julia sighed heavily, shifting her position yet again. She was sitting on the floor in front of Aunt May's couch, her back resting against it as she looked down at the Rubik's Cube in her hand. Noir was asleep behind her, stretched out across the couch, taking up the whole thing. The monochrome woman slowly turned the cube in her hand, fascinated by the small colored squares. 'I wonder how many more colors there are' She thought, trying to fight back a yawn.

"Hey, doll"

Julia jumped, turning to see the small cartoon pig standing at the end of the couch. "oh, hello, Ham"

"You okay?"

"mm, I'm just fine," Julia said quietly, still slowly fiddling with the cube.

"You don't sound too fine to me. Look fine, hell yes. Sound fine, not quite" Ham smirked and Julia couldn't help but laugh quietly at his flirty remark. "ah, that's what I was looking for!"

"what's that?"

"A smile"

Julia shook her head. "you really are something, Ham"

"So I've been told" The small pig wrung his hands together, suddenly seeming a bit nervous. "hey, uh, I might have something that'll make you feel better"

"Oh? And what might that be?"

"I was hoping you'd ask" He eagerly held his hand out. "Follow me, milady!"

Julia set the Rubik's Cube on the end table, taking the small creature's hand in her own as she stood, having to hunch over a bit since he was so much shorter than her. She wondered what on earth he could have up his sleeve as he quietly led her toward the double doors leading out to Aunt May's back porch. "Ham, what exactly are you-?" Julia started, but she cut herself off when she saw the small round table that had two place settings, two soda cans sitting next to plates with two big slices of pizza each. Two lawn chairs were set up on either side of the table, Ham now standing just behind one, rubbing his arm.

"Uh, Aunt May had some leftover pizza, I-I was hungry, was kinda hoping you'd be hungry too, so maybe, since this is probably the...the last day we'll ever see each other...maybe you'd like to have dinner with me? Besides, it'll give me a chance to turn your frown upside down!"

Julia swallowed, overwhelmed by the gesture. "That sounds wonderful," She said softly. She hadn't eaten since earlier that afternoon and the pizza smelled amazing. "You really didn't have to do this"

"I know I didn't have to, I wanted to," Ham said, pulling out a chair for her. She smiled slightly as she took a seat, slowly picking up the napkin sitting beside her plate. "This is..." Her face scrunched up a bit as she stared intently at the napkin in her hand. "This is blue, right?"

"That's right," Ham said, quickly zipping around the table and plopping down in his chair. "How about this one?" He held up his napkin.

"Um..." She frowned, not recognizing the color at all. "I-I don't know...I don't think I've ever seen that one before"

"This is purple," Ham said.

"Purple" Julia said slowly. "It's beautiful"

"A beautiful color for a beautiful lady"

Julia giggled. "You always know just what to say, don't you"

"I'd like to think so"

The two of them ate their pizza mostly in silence for a few minutes. They ended up moving from the table and sitting on the edge of the porch, their plates in their laps and their soda cans beside them as they started in on their second slices. There really wasn't much of a view, except for the shed and the fence behind it. But they had a pretty good view of the starry night sky, something that they both found themselves lost in as they sat there. Ham was the one that finally broke the silence.

"So, Jules, you gonna tell me what was bugging you before?"

Julia hesitated, setting her now empty plate beside her. "I just...I can't help but worry about what might happen tomorrow..."

"You mean with that collider doohickey?"

"Yes. What if...what if we can't get home?"

"You can't stress yourself out about that, doll" Ham said turning to look up at her. "We're all gonna do whatever it takes to get home, I don't doubt that. And we'll all be together until the end"

"Yes, I know. I'm still..." Julia hesitated. "Scared"

"And there's nothing wrong with that. This is a pretty scary situation. I mean, I may be a goofball, but even I know there's a time to be serious and this is it. And hey" He shyly reached over and put his hand over hers, bright red over pale gray. "I won't let anything happen to you, Julia"

Their eyes met and the young woman couldn't help but smile. That bright smile that made the small animals' heart beat faster. "I won't let anything happen to you either," She said softly. The two sat in silence a moment longer, finishing off the rest of their sodas before she spoke up again. "You know, there's one thing I'd like you to do for me, while we have time. If you're okay with it, that is"

"Honey, for you, anything. Just name it" Ham said, no hesitation in his voice.

"I..." She paused, wondering if what she was about to say was overstepping her boundaries. "I'd like to see your face. I'd like to know what you truly look like before we part ways"

Ham was silent, his ears twitching slightly. Julia suddenly felt nervous, worried that she had upset him. She was about to apologize when the pig reached up and pushed his mask back, letting it fall behind him where it hung down like a hoodie. Two big, cartoonish, yellow eyes stared up at her, a light blush crossing Ham's pink face, his snout twitching nervously. "so, uh, this is...me"

"Wow" Julia quirked an eyebrow, smiling. "And here I was, thinking you couldn't be any more adorable"

Ham's face turned as red as his suit. "You know, uh, y-you're the first one I've ever revealed myself to...no one back home knows who I really am"

"Really?"

"Really"

Julia put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm honored that you have so much trust in me"

"'Course I do, doll"

The monochrome woman leaned down, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I trust you too" She giggled as Ham stiffened, his eyes instantly forming into literal heart shapes, his body rising up and levitating off the ground a few inches as tiny hearts floated around his head. "Do you do that a lot?"

"No," Ham said dreamily. "No one's ever quite knocked my socks off the way you do, Julia"

She giggled, smiling down at him. The clock on the wall in the living room chimed, snapping the pig out of his love-struck daze. "It's getting late. We should try to get some sleep" Julia said. "We have a...a big day tomorrow"

"Yeah" Ham mumbled, frowning slightly. As much as he missed his dimension, he didn't want to think about going back just yet. He didn't want to think about leaving Julia.

The two of them cleaned up the table, quietly making their way into the house and to the kitchen, hoping they didn't wake anyone up. Julia fought back a yawn as she put their plates in the sink, running a hand through her hair. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been so tired and she couldn't wait to crawl into the air mattress in Aunt May's guest room and go to sleep. The older woman had been kind enough to let her, Ham, Noir, Peni, and Peter stay with her for the night. Noir was still asleep on the couch, Peter was up in this dimension's Peter's old room, Julia and Peni were sharing the guest room with Julia planning on sleeping on Aunt May's air mattress so Peni could have the bed, and Ham was thinking of sleeping on the floor in the living room with a blanket and some pillows. "Tired, doll?" He asked quietly when Julia yawned again.

"mm. Very tired" She mumbled, rubbing her eyes. "I hope I can actually get some sleep..." She suddenly looked very embarrassed.

"What? What is it?"

"Nothing. It's just..." Julia rubbed the back of her neck nervously. "It's just, back in my dimension...I have an old stuffed horse that I've slept with since I was a little girl. I know it's silly, but even after all these years, it's...it's hard for me to sleep without him..." Her cheeks turned a dark shade of gray, which Ham took to mean she was blushing.

"Ah, that's nothing to be embarrassed about," Ham said.

"You don't think so?"

"Not at all" He yawned, stretching. "Well, goodnight, Julia. I hope you get some sleep tonight"

"Mm, me too. Goodnight" Julia said softly, smiling at him before she made her way upstairs. She slowly opened the guest room door. Peni was already in the bed asleep, SP/DR propped up at the end of the bed like a loyal dog, powered down for the night. The air mattress was inflated and ready to go on the floor beside the bed, a pillow and a few blankets lying on top of it. 'Here's hoping I can sleep' Julia thought, sighing as she quietly made her way over to the mattress, trying to be as quiet as possible as she fluffed up the pillow and rearranged the blankets. She flopped down tiredly, yawning as she pulled the blankets up over herself, taking off her glasses and tucking them beneath her pillow, figuring they'd be safe there for the night. She moved onto her side and closed her eyes, trying her best to relax. Two minutes went by and she didn't feel very relaxed, even though she was exhausted. All she wanted to do was get some sleep, especially since she and the others had such a big day ahead of them. But no matter what position she got in, she could not get comfortable. "This is going to be a long night" She whispered to herself, sighing heavily. Just as she was about to get up, the sound of the door slowly creaking open caught her attention. She sat up quickly, her senses on high alert.

"Julia?"

The monochrome woman sighed with relief at the sight of the small pig. "Ham, you startled me"

"Sorry, doll" He whispered. "Just wanted to check on you"

A small smile tugged at her lips. "That's very sweet"

"You look exhausted. Trouble falling asleep?"

"Yes," Julia sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I'm so ridiculous, I'm a grown woman, I shouldn't need a stuffed animal to help me sleep. I'm such a fool"

"Nah, of course, you're not," Ham said. "I'm having a hard time sleeping, myself. Being in another dimension, away from home...it's a lot to deal with"

"It is indeed"

Ham rubbed his arm nervously, chucking a little. "You know, I-I just got the craziest idea..."

"Oh?"

"Yeah...I'm no stuffed animal, but, uh, I'd be a hell of a good substitute, you know, if you're interested..."

Julia blinked, giggling quietly. "Is that right?"

"I-I can just go, I mean, if you'd rather not..." Ham said quickly, clearly embarrassed that he'd even made the suggestion.

"Just get over here, you," Julia said. Ham didn't need to be told twice. He was beside the air mattress in a matter of seconds and Julia slid over a bit, pulling back the blankets for him. He slid in beside her, sighing as she put her arm around him, making sure they both had enough room on the pillow. "Comfortable?"

"Um, y-yeah" He mumbled, his ear twitching. "I'm good"

Julia smiled, kissing the top of his head. "Goodnight" She whispered.

Ham swallowed nervously, his heart beating faster as his eyes once again took on the form of heart shapes. "G-Goodnight, Julia". He slowly tucked his head beneath her chin, snuggling against her. The two of them started to relax after only a few moments and it wasn't long before they were drifting off to sleep. Turns out Ham was right.

He was no stuffed animal, but he made one hell of a substitute.

#Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse #Spider-Ham #Spider-Ham x OC #my writing

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summahsunlight · 5 years

Text

Pathways, a series of drabbles

Title: Friendship

Word Count: 2014

Pairings: Kes/Shara, Luke/Sela (OC)

Characters: Kes, Shara, Luke, Sela (OC), Poe, Kaleb (OC), Evelyn (OC)

AO3/Master List

Poe, Kaleb and Evelyn meet for the first time.

Yavin IV, 8 ABY

Nothing exciting ever happened on Yavin IV. Which was perfectly fine for his retired military parents, but for little Poe Dameron, it was the most boring place in the galaxy to live. It was hard when you only had the native wildlife as your friends. Poe was certain that other children his age, on more populated planets, had each other to play with. He wasn’t stupid; he knew that he probably had more freedom to roam his home planet than most kids and his mother always tried to make it up to him by taking him up in her A-wing.

Poe glanced up at the blue skies, his brown eyes watching as the clouds swept by. His mother had indulged his love of ships and flying since the moment he could talk. Someday, he was going to blast off this rock, he was going to go to flight school, he was going to become a pilot—perhaps the greatest pilot the galaxy had ever seen.

It was getting late in the day and he knew if he stayed out in the jungle much longer, well, his parents would start to worry. They might have let him have free range of the jungle, but that didn’t mean they worried less about him. Poe looked down the path towards the ranch, and smiling, took off in a run, leaping over unearthed tree roots and grabbing onto low hanging vines. He laughed with delight as his feet left the ground, as he flew through the air on the vines. He landed just at the edge of the Damerons’ property and blinking into the bright sunlight realized there was ship parked in the nearby clearing—a ship that he did not recognize.

Visitors were also rare for the Damerons, being on the far reaches of the Outer Rim and it was not time yet for their supply order to be delivered. Poe’s brow furrowed as he sprinted towards the front porch, curiosity getting the best of him. His mother had the windows open, letting the warm jungle breeze move through the house. Creeping under one of those windows he could hear voices. Papa, and Mama, of course, but there was another woman and man, and their voices were not familiar to him. However, the way his parents were talking to the couple, Poe guessed that they knew Kes and Shara.

There were questions about how the Damerons had been since they both had mustered out of the military, questions about life on Yavin—Papa and Mama answered them, with laughs and happy sighs; they loved the peace here, they loved being with their son.

And there were more questions, from Papa, on where their friends were going to stay while the Temple was fixed up and their new house was built; a small silence, and then the man asked if Kes and Shara could take them in… but only if his family wouldn’t be a burden to Papa and Mama…

“Of course, you can stay here as long as you like, Luke,” Shara exclaimed. “And you’d never be a burden!”

“How long do think it will take for the Republic to send those supplies to get that Temple up and running?”Kes asked.

“Hopefully not long,” the man replied in a soft, warm tone. “After all, no one has lived in some of those temples for thousands of years.”

Poe lifted himself onto his tiptoes and peeked into the window. Seated at the dining table with his parents was the man, Luke, who wore a black tunic and pants, and one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen in his young life. If angels existed, Poe imagined they would look like her. She had long copper brown hair, pulled back in a loose bun and in her lap, a baby girl slept, peacefully. A little boy with sandy brown hair moved about her legs, munching on a fresh koyo fruit, the juice dripping down his chin.

Shara chuckled and used a cloth napkin to wipe his chin clean. Her brown eyes shined brightly watching the small child move around her table. “Poe gets just as messy when eating koyo fruit. I think you and he are going to become great friends, Kaleb.”

Kaleb simply smiled at his mother and reached for more koyo fruit. Poe’s tummy grumbled, reminding him that he had not eaten any lunch yet. After breakfast, he’d taken off to the jungle, to get lost in his adventures—to defeat the Empire in his X-wing. Now that the Empire had been thoroughly defeated by Poe, he was hungry. He thought about leaving his hiding spot and going inside so he could enjoy koyo fruit with the other little boy, but the woman was asking after him.

“Where is Poe?” the woman inquired, looking around the house.

“Probably half-way up a Massassi tree right now,” Kes said with a warm chuckle. “Always exploring that boy, with his head in the clouds.”

“He tried taking my A-wing up the other day, on his own,” Shara added, with a shake of her head. “Had it in pre-flight mode and everything, all on his own.”

Luke glanced in his direction and Poe dashed out of sight. He was incredibly proud of himself for getting the A-wing into pre-flight mode all by himself, and he was sure he would have gotten it to launch if his mother had not found him. “Smart boy,” the man said, with a soft laugh. “Sounds like he’ll make a great pilot one day, Shara.”

Poe beamed with pride from his hiding spot. His mother and father would tell him he could be anything he wanted, but they never acknowledged he’d make a great pilot. Poe surmised his mother never said it because she didn’t want to upset his father; Kes hated the idea of his son joining the military and becoming a fighter pilot. The former Pathfinder wanted a different life for his son.

Inside the house, Poe heard the scraping of chairs on the floor. Kes was telling Luke that he’d walk him down to the Temple and they could reminisce about old times while they checked for repairs that needed to be done before his students moved in. Poe jumped from the front porch and hid in the bushes his mother had planted, watching as Kes and Luke left, walking down the path towards one of the old, abandoned Massassi temples, recanting stories of their days fighting in the Rebellion and how they both had hated the cold on Hoth. He watched them go before he climbed back onto the porch and then slipped in through the front door.

Shara heard him and turned to smile at her son. “There you are. Come here, little pilot, there’s some people I want you to meet.”

Poe gazed across the room at the woman. The baby girl in her lap had woken up and was now eating some koyo fruit as well. The little boy, Kaleb, was leaning against the woman’s leg, his blue eyes watching the older boy, cautiously. Poe shifted his gaze to the baby; her cheeks pulled into a warm smile and he couldn’t help but smile in return at her.

“I don’t think we have to worry about the children being friends, Sela,” Shara said, ruffling her son’s hair. “Looks like Evelyn already likes you, Poe.”

“I think we’re all going to like the much quieter life here on Yavin then on Hosian Prime,” Sela replied. She gave her daughter a kiss on her head and put the little girl down. “Too much chatter and invasion of privacy in the Capital. Don’t get me wrong, Shara, I knew what I was signing up for when I agreed to marry Luke—you don’t marry the hero of the Rebellion and start a family with him without the holonet breathing down your neck. But stars, it was really starting to affect the children.”

Shara frowned, watching as Evelyn wandered over to Poe, her sticky fingers holding out some fruit to him. “We might be living in the far reaches of the galaxy, but we still get the holonet; their obsession with your children, and Leia, disgusts us.”

Sela ran her fingers through Kaleb’s hair. “It’s why Luke wanted to leave; a quiet place to raise our family but also to rebuild the Jedi.”

Poe tore his eyes away from Evelyn, not caring that her sticky little fingers had latched onto his. He’d only heard stories of the Jedi, from some of the older men down at the colony, and his mother would often tell him tales of Luke Skywalker. Luke. “Are you Skywalkers?” the boy asked, eyes shifting towards Sela.

“Not just smart, Shara, but insightful,” Sela said with a smile that lit up her whole face. “Yes, we’re Skywalkers. I hope you don’t mind we came to live here.”

“You’re going to live here?” Poe questioned; brow furrowed in curiosity. Why would anyone want to live here? Nothing happened on Yavin IV. It was a boring place.

“Luke needs a place to train new Jedi,” Sela answered him, honestly. “Do you think you can show Kaleb around? Show him all the fun places to play?”

“Sure. Can he climb trees? Those are the best places to play. You can pretend to be fighting against the Empire up there.”

“He can’t climb trees—yet—but I bet you can teach him.”

Brown eyes met blue ones. Poe had never actually taught anyone, anything. But if it meant having a friend and not just the woolamanders, well, Poe was going to try to teach Kaleb how to climb trees. He felt a tug on his arm and Evelyn let out a little cry as she stumbled over her small feet. She fell on her bottom and large tears rolled down her cheeks.

Poe glanced between Shara and Sela, a look of guilt and remorse passing over his young face. He didn’t mean to hurt the little girl; he had completely forgotten that she was even standing with him and holding his hand. He had just gotten so excited at the thought of having real friends… “I’m sorry!” he gasped. “Did I, did I hurt her? I didn’t mean to hurt her!”

Sela picked Evelyn off the floor and wiped her baby’s tears. “You didn’t hurt her,” she assured the little boy. “She’s just learning how to walk and she’s a little unsteady on her feet. She scared herself more than actually hurt herself.” She gently touched Poe’s curls. “You’re a sweet boy.”

“As sweet as they come,” Shara said, handing him a bowl of koyo fruit. “Poe, do you think you can take care of Kaleb and Evelyn for a few moments, while I help Sela bring their things into the house?”

“Yes, Mama,” Poe said, munching on his koyo fruit. He watched as Sela placed Evelyn on the floor. Immediately she started to cry when Sela left her sight.

Cautiously the little boy sat down next to the crying baby. Poe smiled at her, softly. “It’s okay, your mama will be right back.” He held out some fruit to Evelyn. Her big blue eyes looked towards where her mother had gone, and then at her older brother, who was lounging over the chair, just watching. “Here, Evie,” he said, giving the little girl a nickname that would stick with her well into adulthood. “You can have some of my koyo fruit.”

Evelyn tentatively grabbed the fruit he offered, her cries not as loud or persistent. She finished her piece and then reached into his bowl for more. Poe continued to smile at her and talk to her. By the time his mother and Sela returned, both Evelyn and Kaleb were sitting with Poe on the floor—the bowl completely empty.

Poe turned his smiling face up towards his mother. “See, Mama, I took care of them. We’re friends now!”

Somehow, Shara knew that they would always be friends, the three of them, and that they would always take care of each other.

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