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blackwolfstabs · 1 year

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30 Day Writing Challenge: Day 10

GAME NIGHT

To get some quiet, 11-year-old Sam agrees to play hide & seek with four rowdy 6-year-olds, except all doesn’t go as smoothly as anticipated.

(side note: Tara's technically still 5 bc her birthday's in December and this takes place in September...)

Sam unleashed a heavy sigh that was 40% annoyed and 60% tired as she glanced away from the clock. 7:02 PM, and she had at least 30 more minutes of listening to Tara, Chad, Mindy, and Wes run around like a pack of hyperactive puppies. It was already dark outside, and they had been at it since 3:30 that afternoon… Didn’t they ever get tired? She was beginning to regret agreeing to watch all of them extra late today… Even during, dinner they hadn’t settled for some quiet, regardless of her telling them that it’s not polite to talk with their mouths full or play with their food. And speaking of which…

The thought reminded Sam that she hadn’t put away the leftover macaroni and cheese that didn’t get eaten. At least that would kill some time. She got up from the couch and went to the kitchen, where she threw away the parchment paper that the chicken nuggets had been on first, before going to find a plastic container to conserve the other half of the meal.

Halfway through scraping the macaroni into the tupperware, shouting came from upstairs. It was the kind of shouting that was a mystery as to whether it was the good kind or the bad kind. But it didn’t stay that way for long, for as Sam tossed the used pot into the sink and went to put the leftovers in the refrigerator, a door from above flew open and the noise grew louder.

“Tara!” Mindy called from inside the room they had been in.

“That wasn’t fair!” Tara’s voice cracked in that way it always did when she was starting to cry.

“Look what you did, Chad!” Wes barked.

Chad answered, “What? I won, fair and square! You’re just being a baby about it, Tara!”

The youngest’s voice came from the top of the staircase, seemingly intent on making her way down to go pout about whatever she didn’t win, “Shut up, stupid!”

Now, Samantha shut the door to make way to the stairs as she heard her sister storming down. “Hey!” she snapped, making all four go silent. She found Tara’s teary eyes and crossed arms. “We don’t say that, Tara, it’s not nice,” her voice softened from yelling, but stayed firm.

“Well, Chad’s being mean,” she returned, stomping her foot for emphasis. Then, the so-called bully came to join her.

He defended himself, “No, she’s just mad because I won!” Behind him, Mindy and Wes appeared but stayed quiet.

Sam looked from Chad to Tara. “Tara, what did Chad do that was mean?”

The girl twisted her body in frustration, refusing to look at her friend and her sister as she tried to come up with something. But the truth was, she was just angry that she didn’t win. She always won, and she was proud of that. “Nothing…” she mumbled, while scuffing the floor with her foot.

Her older sister could take some of the blame for her attitude. She always let her win, even when it wasn’t fair. So, she was used to it. There was only a spare amount of times when Sam would stick to her guns and keep Tara from getting what she wanted, but that was usually when she was trying to take something away that she was playing with. Their mother had reminded her that Tara needed to understand the concept of sharing, so every now and then she would make sure her baby sister faced the fact that she couldn’t have everything she wanted when she wanted it. “Okay, so you owe Chad an apology,” she told her, “Tell him you’re sorry for saying mean things to him.”

However, Tara just tightened her crossed arms and turned away from the boy on her right with a whine. “I don’t want to.”

Sam shifted with a semi-aggravated sigh. She knew all 4 of them were overtired, which would encourage them to exhibit inappropriate behavior, but it was giving her a headache now. “Tara, if you don’t tell him you’re sorry, I’ll tell Mom and then she’ll put you in time-out when she gets home,” she warned.

The other’s expression changed a little, and she forced herself to turn around. “Sorry, Chad…”

While it seemed like she was being genuine, Sam wanted it to be sincere by the way their parents taught them. “Mean it,” she said, “Give him a hug.”

And she did. Chad embraced her back with a smile. “It’s okay, Tara,” he accepted her apology. He then stepped back to further promise her, “You’ll win next time.”

Oh, God and if she didn’t? The eldest of the group fought back the temptation to run her hand over her face in dread for what might not come in her favor. However, before they could insinuate another game, Mindy leapt onto the steps.

“Hey, Sam, can you play with us this time?”

Sam’s initial thought was no, absolutely not, because it would just turn into her trying to rein in the 4 of them bickering about who was going to do what or how the game should be played, and she was not in the mood to handle a meltdown. She was sure she’d walk out of the house and leave them to figure it out. But when she looked at them, they each seemed excited at the thought of her getting involved. Just 30 more minutes hopefully… she could keep them entertained for that long, right? She sighed, “You know what, sure.” She turned around to make way back to the living room, aware of the stampede of little footsteps following her, “But I get to pick the game, got it?”

“Okay!” was the unison reply.

Once they were all gathered by the couch, the alpha turned around. “We’re gonna play Hide & Seek. You all are gonna go hide, and I’m gonna seek,” she told them, “Whoever is the last to be found gets to be the next seeker. Sound fair?”

The twins nodded eagerly, while Wes and Tara voiced their acceptance.

“Yeah!”

“Uh-huh!” Then the small Carpenter pointed in the direction of their parents’ room. “You go count in Mommy and Daddy’s room, because we can’t go in there.” She bolted for the stairs again, shouting to her friends. “Come on!”

As Samantha started for her parents’ room, she called out to them, “Stay out of my room, please!”

“Why?!” was Mindy’s questioning voice.

They were at that age where everything was answered with why? “Because I said!” she replied.

“Okay!”

“Count to 100!” Chad told their seeker, before vanishing out of sight.

So, she did. To get a little over a minute-and-a-half break, Sam laid down on her parents’ bed, while counting to 100 in her head, like instructed. For hiders, the quad of kids weren’t very quiet. Thumping and footsteps could be heard both upstairs and downstairs, but to be fair—and keep them hidden for as long as possible to pass the time—she pretended not to hear it.

96, 97, 98, 99…

100.

All was quiet by the time she had reached 55, so she figured everyone had picked a spot and stayed there. There were countless times when she and Tara would play, and Tara would come out of her hiding spot because she’d changed her mind and made Sam go back and recount again. “Ready or not, here I come!” she announced the game’s script, even though she knew they had to be ready otherwise they were just going to be found first. She never really understood why saying those words were necessary. Just some sort of acknowledgement that the seeker is on the hunt should suffice, because saying ‘here I come’ just sounded a little weird, but whatever…

She searched the living room first, checking the cabinets beneath the TV as well as the storage space of the ottoman. Nothing. Then, she moved the curtains and opened the closet. Still nothing. So, she moved to the kitchen.

Clearly, there was no one underneath the table, and the only other place that a small person could hide would be the bottom cabinets. However, not a trace of life was present. Sam turned at the far end of the kitchen island, catching the two places of exit on the same wall. One went into the formal dining room, while the other went to the mud room. Beneath the jackets hanging, there was subtle movement and a pair of small lavender shoes that weren’t familiar to the house.

Mindy.

She came around quietly, like a stalking cat, keeping the essence of the game alive as she ducked into the shadows. She grabbed the black cover-up and pulled it aside, where she found who she guessed was there. “Found you, Mindy.”

The girl laid her hands out in confusion, “How?! It’s so dark in here!”

Her genuinely disbelieved tone actually made Sam laugh with a shrug. “Maybe wear darker shoes next time,” she suggested, as she held the jacket aside and waved her to come out into the light.

She obeyed, nodding at the feedback. “Yeah, that wasn’t very smart of me…”

Immediately, the older female jumped in to assure her, “No, don’t say that about yourself. You’re very smart.” Being Tara’s big sister taught her how important building self-worth was. She had struggled to do it for herself, but with Tara’s already weakened condition from her asthma, she always made sure that Tara never looked down on herself for things she couldn’t control or things that weren’t important. It’d become a habit. “I’ll tell you what,” she began as she leaned down to Mindy’s level. When she received undivided, curious attention, she went on, “How about you continue to look for the others down here and I’ll search upstairs? You’ve got a really good eye, so I know you’ll do really good.”

Meeks-Martin brightened, that sparkle that she was famous for finding its way to her eyes as she gave a small hop of excitement. “Okay!”

“Alright, let’s go!” Mindy’s thrill of being praised encouraged Sam’s thrill of being involved in the game as she turned around to run for the stairs. “We’re a team now, so let me know if you find anyone!”

“I will!” The other’s voice dictated that she had already raced away to begin her new job.

Sam prowled the second floor, checking every closet and behind every door. Her door had stayed shut, so she assumed they had listened to what she said about staying out of there, thankfully… However, Tara’s room hadn’t been off-limits. It would’ve been too predictable for Tara to hide in there, but not Chad or Wes. This thought led her to the threshold for her next stop. Nothing seemed to be moved around from when the 4 had been playing in there earlier, but she had learned a thing or two about kids their age being sneaky. Hell, she was quite the fox when she was that age.

She scanned the bed, behind the curtains and in the closet, but… nothing. She gently kicked some abandoned puzzle pieces aside, before kneeling down for the last place she hadn’t checked. The depths of the most feared place of all children: under the bed.

Not a soul lingered… but there was an empty Goldfish bag.

Sam sighed. “Tara…” They weren’t supposed to eat upstairs, yet this had been there for some time. She slipped the bag into her pocket to continue searching, planning to throw it away in the bathroom trash can. When she got there, she turned on the light and tossed it into the bin, only to be caught off-guard by the shower curtain flying open.

“Rraahhh!”

Not expecting someone to hide in the shower, the growl-like outburst had her flinching with a yelp, but as pleasured giggling followed, she dropped her cringed demeanor. “Chad!” Her jump-started heart took a minute to recover as she shook her head. “You’re not supposed to come out of your hiding spot,” she covered up her alarm with an objection.

But the boy didn’t care as he leapt out of the bath/shower combo. “I know, but I knew you were gonna find me, so I wanted to scare you,” he defended himself.

Samantha just smirked and rolled her eyes. “I’ve already found Mindy, so now we’re looking for Tara and Wes.”

“Oh, Tara’s up here!” he blurted and darted out of the bathroom. “Come on!”

While it was technically against the rules to tell the seeker where the other hiders were, the pre-teen went with it anyway and followed him into the guest bedroom, where he went straight to the pile of pillows at the head of the bed.

Chad leapt up onto the mattress and pounced on the stash, earning a muffled squeak from beneath. “We found you, Tara!” he called in a sing-song voice as he ripped the pillows away to reveal the hider’s curled up body.

From the side of the bed, Sam braced herself for her sister to erupt into an attitude, shouting that Chad was cheating for already knowing where she was. But instead, the young girl busted out into laughter and jumped up from her crouched position.

“Hi, Sam!” she greeted her with a big smile and shining eyes.

Her hair was a mess from being tucked into a ball, which made her older sister giggle as she put her hand up, “Hi.” The two children then slipped off the bed, leading her to inform them, “Wes is the only one left. Let’s go see if Mindy has had any luck.” But right as she said that, the mentioned girl’s voice came bellowing through the house.

“Sam!”

She didn’t sound right though.

This sent the called being’s heart into a race as she turned around and fled out of the room. She could already hear Mindy’s running footsteps coming to the staircase.

“Saaaam!”

“What, Mindy?! What’s wrong?!” She nearly skidded on the stairs, having to stop herself from slamming into the child, who met her a quarter of the way up.

“Wes is stuck in the tree!” she shouted.

It took a brief moment for Sam to process what she had said, but she soon found herself heading for the backdoor with Mindy, Chad, and Tara on her heels. “He’s not even supposed to be outside,” she hissed as she threw the door open and ran into the night. And just like the older twin had said, Wes was clinging to a branch up in the tree in the middle of the yard.

A high branch, at that…

As she approached the trunk, she called up to him. “Wes, you know you’re not supposed to be outside! What are you doing up there?!”

He whimpered, clearly upset with being so high up but also with the fact that he had done something wrong. “I just wanted a good hiding spot…” he confessed, the tears in his eyes becoming present to the rest through his voice. “B-but I can’t get down! I’m scared, Sam!”

If she was older, she’d curse… because she did not want to climb that tree. Being an older sibling, she had been forced to outgrow many of her fears, but she was never able to shake her fear of heights. However, she was the oldest one there right now. Her parents, and Wes’s mom, and Mindy and Chad’s mom were depending on her to make the adult decisions. She was going to be 12 years-old next May, and it was the end of September now. She was the only one who could do this. She couldn’t just leave him in the tree until their parents came. She should be able to handle this… shouldn’t she? “Um… okay,” she didn’t realize she was agreeing to this until she was agreeing to it. “Okay, it’s okay, Wes! Uh…” She glanced around as if there were going to be some ladder or something that would magically spawn out of nowhere. But there wasn’t, just the 3 faces of the other kids staring at her. That told her that they were depending on her too… She looked back up to the boy in the tree. “I’m… I’m gonna come get you! Just hang on!”

The last time she had climbed this tree, she had been in the same situation as Wes was in now. She and Tara had been playing this same game, and she had the bright idea to climb the tree because Tara couldn’t get in the dang tree. That’s when she got very familiar with her fear. Tara had to go get their father, who had to climb up to get her down.

Now, here she was…

Samantha paced up to the tree trunk and took a deep breath. “Oh, God, okay…” she exhaled and lifted her gaze to the obstacle course above. ‘Don’t look down, now,’ she told herself, before grabbing ahold of the lowest branch. This was it.

From above, Wes bit back a cry. “S-Saaam…”

Before she could reply, Tara answered to him from the ground. “It’s okay, Wes! Sam’s coming!”

And that’s when her big-sister-instincts kicked in. Sam dug her nails into the bark and pressed the soles of her shoes into the dips the trunk and limbs provided. Grabbing each branch one by one with a grip as tight as hers had the skin of her palms ripping and her fingers burning like she was touching a hot stove. She swallowed back a whimper as the pain ran deep, but she kept her eyes fixed on Wes. He was her main priority. She threw her arm towards the last branch and grunted as she pulled herself up. Her foot slipped a little, which provoked a startled gasp from her, and she had to stop for a moment to recover.

‘Don’t look down. Whatever you do, don’t look down.’ She rehearsed the words over and over again in her head, her anxiety of falling making tears of her own threaten to take hold of her.

She tried to think of the way she’d seen animals move and climb in the cartoon movies she and Tara watched and tried to mimic that. It seemed to work well, so it couldn’t be terribly different for people, right? She remembered what her father had said when he had saved her from this situation.

‘ "Just breathe, Sam. I’ve got you." ’

She was clinging to his neck when he’d said this, shaking while crying into his shoulder.

‘ "As long as you hold on tight, you won’t fall." ’

Sam took a deep breath and raised her chin, blinking her lurking tears away. Wes didn’t know what she knew, so she had to tell him herself. And the only way to do that was to make it to him and be confident, just like her dad was. So, she did. She clawed her way to where he was and assured him as he jumped onto her. “You’re okay,” she positioned herself to be able to caress him with one arm, “I’ve got you.”

“Yay, Sam!” Mindy shouted from below.

“You did it!” Tara accompanied, while Chad was too busy watching.

Wes was trembling against Sam as she took a moment to collect herself. She was going to have to do things a little differently than what her father did with her because of her youthful strength. “Wes, listen to me, okay?” She kept her balance for the time being. “You’re gonna have to get on my back, so I can climb down. Can you do that for me?”

But he just sniffled with a shudder. “I… I want my mom,” he whined, clutching her shirt as if the rest of the world was out to get him.

“I know,” she tried to soothe him, “I know, and she’ll be here soon. But I’m here right now, and I will get you down.” She could feel the warmth from his tears soak her shoulder. “I promise.” The longer they stayed up there, the more anxious she became. “But you have to do what I say, okay? As long as you hold on tight, you won’t fall.”

The boy nodded and eased away from her figure to do what she told him. Sam kept one arm against him as he made his way onto her back and fastened his arms around her neck. “You ready?” she asked.

“Mm-hmm…”

“Alright. Here we go…” Having the added weight onto her back made the older Carpenter feel twice the strain on her hands as she began the climb down. Not to mention, his hold on her neck made breathing difficult, and the way his legs wrapped around her torso had his shoes pressing uncomfortably into her stomach. However, the most important thing was for him to hold on tight, like she said, so she didn’t hold it against him.

And right as her feet hit the ground, the back door opened.

“What are you doing out here?!”

“Mama!” Tara was the first to turn and flock to her mother’s voice. “We were playing Hide & Seek and Wes got stuck in the tree, so Sam had to get him down,” she explained.

Christina looked up from her youngest daughter to find her oldest kneeling on the ground to let Wes off of her back. Behind her, Judy appeared to speak before she could.

“Well done, Samantha!” the officer praised as her son came running up to her. She picked him up and set him on her hip. “But didn’t I tell you to stay out of trees, Wes?” Her tone dropped when she spoke to him, but softened once more when he nodded and leaned against her shoulder. As the twins and Sam came to join them, she nodded to the eldest, “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Sam replied, regardless of the marathon her heart was still running. She then glanced over to Christina, expecting to be scolded for not being more clear on giving the kids proper directions. However, instead, her head was pet with a soft hand.

“Good girl, Sam,” her mother spoke with a smile.

And all of the sudden, Sam’s heart slowed, and she found herself smiling back, a sense of pride and self-achievement flooding through her to drown out the fear. Tara’s weight then slammed into her side as her waist was encased by her little arms.

“You were so brave!”

She chuckled, “Thanks, Tara.”

Judy cut in to dismiss herself and her son, “Alright, it’s getting late, so we better get going.”

Christina nodded. “Of course.” She then waved the rest to follow them in. “Come on inside! Chad, Mindy, your mom should be here any minute.”

The twins and Tara raced inside, while Judy followed with Wes, and then Christina and Sam.

It had been one hell of an eventful night… and it all started at 7:02 PM.

Okay, so it was one hell of an eventful 30 minutes.

this took me way too long to write rip.

I'm pretty sure I had more to say but I'm lowkey brain-dead atm soooooooo

All my best and blessings to you! ♡ - parker

#scream #scream v #scream vi #sam carpenter #tara carpenter #carpenter sisters #chad meeks martin #mindy meeks martin #wes hicks #christina carpenter #judy hicks #30 day writing challenge #game night #AU: The Way I Am

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whimsicallyenchantedrose · 10 months

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Christmas Reruns 2023 Day 9: Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas (2/3)

Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t! One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia. A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns. So here you go! Enough holiday (mostly) fluff to get you to New Year’s Day. (With a new story posting on Christmas Day.)

Rating: G

Word Count: 2545

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32

Notes: This story was originally written in 2014.

Walking in a Winter Wonderland

“Looks like your boyfriend learned about Christmas,” David said dryly as he pushed open the sheriff’s station door.

Emma elbowed her way past her father to have a look and then barked out a laugh. A veritable forest of mistletoe hung above her desk and chair. David was right; it couldn’t be the work of anyone but her adorable idiot of a pirate.

“Although if he really wanted to get you to kiss him,” David continued, draping his winter coat over the back of his own chair, “he would have hung it inside one of the jail cells. We left the station locked when we went on rounds, so I’m pretty sure this qualifies as breaking and entering.”

Emma grinned. “Cut him some slack, Dad. There are far, far worse things he could have done, don’t you think?”

“That depends,” David replied with a frown.

“Yeah? On what?”

“Whether or not he makes use of the mistletoe when I’m around.”

Emma laughed again, still amazed at the happiness that was her life at the moment. Seriously, who would have thought that Emma Swan, the unloved, unwanted orphan would one day have to deal with an overzealous pirate boyfriend and an overprotective father?

“I’ll make him behave,” Emma promised. “At least while you’re around.”

David grimaced. “You had to tack on that last part?”

“Yep,” Emma replied, taking a seat. “Deal with it Dad; your little girl’s dating a pirate. Bound to be some…um…misbehavior. Probably on both our parts.”

David groaned.

Her dad put up a good show, but Emma knew that’s all it was—a show. The bromance was strong with these two. Emma didn’t know who was happier that her relationship with Killian was still going strong, her or her dad.

A month had passed since Gold’s sorcerer’s hat stunt, and they were all still reeling from it to various extents. She’d had nightmares about it every night for a solid two weeks following the incident. Nightmares where they didn’t make it in time. Nightmares where she, her mom and Belle arrived at the clock tower a moment after Gold had finished crushing Killian’s heart into a fine powder. She’d woken up shaking and bathed in sweat.

If Gold had succeeded…she couldn’t even bring herself to finish the sentence. The very thought scared her more than anything in her life had ever scared her.

It was in that moment when she was frozen in place, helpless to protect Killian, that she gave up the last bit of pretense. She loved him; there was no denying it. Just the sight of him was enough to make the butterflies start tap dancing in her stomach.

“What do you think of my first attempt at decorating for the season?”

Speak of the devil.

Killian strode in with the confidence (and looks) of a fashion model. He leaned down, brushed a kiss against her cheek and then straightened with the grin she’d come to learn meant trouble.

“Not bad,” she said, “but you know people usually just hang one sprig of mistletoe, not a whole garden.”

He tsked, and frowned at her playfully. “And where would be the fun in that? I’d prefer to increase my chances of finding myself under it with a fetching lass rather than limit them.”

He pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her. “Speaking of which, it appears you and I are currently standing beneath a particularly hearty specimen. Holiday traditions must be observed, darling. Good form and all.”

She grinned and looped her arms around his neck. “So what are you waiting for?”

His smile turned distinctly wicked. “Not a thing in the world, love.”

A wildfire raged between them at the first touch of his lips to hers. It was always like this between them; like someone had tossed a lit match on a mountain of dry kindling. Emma tilted her head, instantly deepening the kiss, reveling in the feel of his hand in her hair anchoring her to him, his hook at her back urging her closer.

David cleared his throat. Loudly. Whatever adjectives could be used to describe her father, “subtle” was not one of them. Emma pulled away with an apologetic look at her boyfriend, then turned to face her dad. Killian reached down and laced his fingers with hers.

“You guys mind?” David asked with a hint of exasperation. “This is a place of business after all.”

“Funny,” Killian said with a smirk, “you seemed to be singing an entirely different tune that night last week when I walked in to find you and your lovely wife similarly expressing your affection.”

David spluttered. “That’s…that’s different!”

“Aye? How so?”

“It’s different because…because…well, because it just is.”

Killian laughed with such good humor that soon even David joined in. “Look,” her father finally said, “I’m glad you two are happy together, I really am, but could you keep the PDA to a minimum while I’m around? Please?”

Killian sketched a bow. “I shall endeavor to control myself, but confronted with your daughter’s ravishing beauty, I am, more often than not, unable to express my admiration any other way.”

Emma laughed and swatted him playfully. “You are so full of it.”

“Aye,” he returned with a flirtatious wink, “but I noticed you failed to put up a protest at my ‘PDA’ a moment ago.”

“I’ll admit,” she returned, placing her free hand over his heart, a gesture she found herself making more and more frequently since his ordeal with Gold, “kissing you is kind of addicting. So, what’s up? We weren’t supposed to meet for lunch for another hour or so.”

“I’ve come to steal you away, love,” He said, giving her hand a squeeze. “The snow has bathed the woods in a blanket of loveliness, and I wish to share it with my favorite lass.”

“I can’t just go take a stroll in the woods,” Emma said. “For one thing, it’s cold. For another, I’ve got work to do. And did I mention, it’s cold?”

The look on his face was two parts puppy and one part wicked. “If we don’t go, I’ll be forced to hang around and, no doubt, nauseate your father. We wouldn’t want that, now would we? Besides, I’m…more than capable of keeping you warm.”

“Ugh,” David said. “Emma just go with him. I’ll cover for you.”

“Well,” Emma said, grabbing her coat and hat, “if you both insist…”

“We do,” David and Killian said in unison.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Emma had to admit it was beautiful and peaceful out here. And with Killian’s arm draped around her, surprisingly warm as well. On impulse, she reached up and pecked him on the cheek.

“And what was that delightful gesture for, Swan?”

She shrugged. “No reason. Just…thank you. You were right. It’s nice to get away from the craziness of the town for a while.”

He smiled, making the crow’s feet stand at attention at the edges of his eyes. “Darling, when are you going to finally realize that I’m always right?”

Emma rolled her eyes but couldn’t keep the grin from her face. “Don’t hold your breath, pirate.”

“Thought as much,” Killian muttered under his breath.

Emma had never been a big fan of winter. She hated the cold, and the snow drove her crazy—especially now that she was the sheriff and was called to every fender bender and slide-off in the whole damn town. Killian, however, seemed to have an entirely different opinion on the matter. His face was lit up with the wonder and awe of a child as he trudged through the ankle-deep snow and watched the flurries continue to drift down.

“You seem to be enjoying this weather,” she observed, reaching up to feather her fingers through his hair and dislodge the stubborn snowflakes that had evidently decided to take up residence there.

“Aye,” he said, looking down at her with a delighted grin. “Always reminds me of a day I spent with Liam many, many years ago.”

Emma perked up at the mention of Killian’s brother. “You never talk about him. I always assumed the memories were too painful for you.”

Killian smiled tenderly. “Aye, some memories are. It seems no matter how many centuries go by, the sting of his passing will never truly fade. I do, however, have many, many pleasant memories of him, and the day we spent in the snow is certainly one of those.”

“Would you tell me about it?”

“Of course,” he complied without hesitation. “It was one of the last good memories I had of my family. My mum died the following year, and my father was never the same after her passing. At any rate, I was but a wee lad at the time, five, maybe six years old. Liam was a good ten years my senior and I nearly worshiped him. He’d just informed me that he would be leaving in less than a fortnight upon his first ship; I no longer recall her name. He was to be a cabin boy and I’ve rarely seen a lad so excited. I was, of course, devastated that my brother, my hero, would be leaving me in a matter of days.”

“I can only imagine,” Emma soothed. Killian felt things so deeply; his entire heart and soul were invested when he loved. Liam’s departure must have hit him hard.

“Aye,” he said with a grimace. “Anyway, on the day in question, Liam woke me, excited about the newly fallen snow. We two spent the entire day reveling in it—making snowmen and snow fortifications. Engaging in a rather ruthless snowball fight. It was a day I wouldn’t trade for all the rum in the Enchanted Forest.”

“It sounds great.”

“Aye, that it was.”

They lapsed into silence for a time. Emma rested her head against his shoulder, and she felt him brush a kiss against the crown of her head.

“So how was your breakfast with Henry?” Emma asked.

“Informative,” Killian said, and Emma could hear the smile in his voice. “The lad is a wealth of information. He seems quite excited for this Christmas holiday.”

Emma sighed. “Yeah. Seems like it’s all he can talk about.”

Killian looked over at her. “From your tone, I take it you don’t share his sentiments?”

“No.” The word was definitive, emphatic.

“The lad told me as much,” Killian admitted. “He was concerned that you seem unwilling to participate in this realm’s Christmas traditions.”

Emma grimaced. “I was hoping it would be enough for him to get all the Christmas crap at Regina’s or my mom and dad’s.”

Killian stopped walking and turned her toward him. “The lad didn’t come to me because he needs more Christmas; he came to me because he’s worried about you.”

Henry was worried about her? Because of Christmas? “He doesn’t need to be. I’m fine.”

Killian looked at her skeptically. “Swan, I’ve seen you ‘fine’. I’ve seen you happy. I’ve seen you content. You are feeling none of those emotions. This ‘Christmas’ is obviously a source of pain for you. Please, tell me why that is.”

Emma sighed. There really was no point trying to hide anything from this man. “It’s just…I don’t know. Christmas is all about family and happiness and being together and stuff.”

“And these are bad things?” At some point, Killian brought his good hand up to cup her face, and he was gently caressing her cheek with his thumb.

“No…” Emma drew out the syllable. “Not in general, but for an unwanted little girl in the group homes it was torture. I mean, everywhere you turned you’d get assaulted with images of happy little families doing happy little family things. Every time you turned on the TV you’d see commercials and movies and everything else where everyone was perfectly happy and enjoying each other’s company. The songs talk about it being the happiest time of the year, or about how people love going home for the holidays or the love of family. You know what it was for me? It was a slap in the face. It was yet another reminder that I’d never had that and probably never would.”

The compassion in Killian’s eyes nearly broke her. He dropped his hand from her face and gathered her into his arms, holding her tight. She clung to him, drinking in the love he offered her.

“Emma,” he whispered., “there are so many, many people who love you. So many, many people who would do anything to make you happy.”

The tears rushed to her eyes. “I know, and it means everything in the world to me. It’s just—I don’t know. Childhood memories die hard. I don’t know if I can even do all the ‘happy family Christmas’ stuff.”

“But you said it yourself, love,” Killian reasoned, stroking her hair. “Christmas isn’t about perfectly fulfilling the traditions you’re accustomed to. It’s not about living up to the standards you believe the ‘perfect’ families attained. It’s not about fulfilling a checklist of Christmas items. It’s about being with the ones you love; showing them how much you care.”

Killian pulled away. “Let us love you,” he said simply. “Let us show you how much you mean to all of us. Let us build our own traditions, our own memories. Perhaps they won’t erase the pain of the past, but trust me love, the good memories, the beautiful moments—they shine as brightly as the star Leroy attempted to force me to place on the top of Granny’s tree—if you but let them. They are like the sun that blots out the light of the stars. Losing Liam to dreamshade—it was one of the darkest days of my life. The pain of losing my brother, the man who was captain and brother and hero to me, was such that words cannot describe. Even so, traumatic as that day was, it cannot hold a candle to the simple joy of that day spent playing in the snow. ”

“I wish I’d met Liam,” Emma said with a wistful smile.

“As do I love,” Killian said. “He would have liked you—and would have thanked his lucky stars that I’d finally found myself a beautiful blonde savior to point me back to the man I wish to be.”

Emma stroked his face. “He’d be proud of you, Killian. You’re a good man; one of the best and most honorable I know.”

Killian turned his head and brushed a kiss against her palm. “You can have no idea how sweet those words sound coming from your lips. I have but one bit of advice for you, love: don’t run from the love of family and the joys of Christmas all around you. Make new memories, good memories. I can promise you; you won’t regret it.”

Emma reached up and brushed a soft kiss against his lips. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Again with the skepticism, darling? Didn’t we just establish I’m always right?”

Emma chuckled. “Whatever. I’m hungry. Are you going to take me to lunch or not?”

Killian sketched a bow. “My lady’s wish is my command.”

–Up next, Emma and Killian return to her apartment after the town’s Christmas Eve party.

NEXT CHAPTER->

#christmas reruns 2023 #cs fanfiction #captain swan christmas ff #my fanfiction #have yourself a merry little christmas

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causenessus · 2 months

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HI LOVELY NESS IM SO SORRY I DIDNT DO A CHECK IN YESTERDAY💔 yesterday was so hectic and like i’m scared that one of my irls are gonna read this and know it’s me bcuz it’s so specific but you live u love LMDO but like i literally had work from 7:30am-11:30am then 1-5:30 (worse split shift in all of history i didn’t even go home i just stayed at work and napped) then i came home and had a midterm at 7 and i was like SO TIRED LIKE RIGHT AFTER I FINISHED I LAID IN BED AND FELL ASLEEP??? IM SO MAD BCUZ I DIDNT EVEN WASH MY FACE I JUST PASSED OUT like i’m so devastated because i’ve been so good at staying consistent but i missed one day </3

but anyways that was my busy busy day i’m SO UPSET when i woke up and i was like I FORGOT SOMETHING IMPORTANT but i hope you ate yesterday, i hope i was like floating around your head as a reminder to eat bcuz u deserve it and u deserve to be well!! i hope ur day was good as well, make sure you eat today though!! i wanna know what you’ll eat!! yesterday i had pasta once again (leftovers galore) and i had some takeout as well! today im heading to work again </3 (im literally writing this while on the bus to work) but i had a banana this morning and ill eat right after work!

also sorry sorry this one is so long but it was so funny bcuz yesterday when you answered my ask, you said that you were getting ready for work or on ur way to work or something and it was so funny because I WAS ALSO GETTING READY FOR WORK (we are so soul flame)(so twin flame)(me and u are🤞)

anyways i hope today is so so so good for u !! make sure u eat and take care of yourself! xoxo

YOU ARE TOTALLY OKAY LOVE!!! I'M SO SORRY I GOT TO THIS A LITTLE LATE </33 IT'S OKAY IF YOUR IRLS SOMEHOW SEE THIS I'LL BARK AT THEM (i love u live u love 😭😭 that made me laugh)

you were definitely floating in my mind my love!! omg i cannot tell you enough how much i always look forward to hearing about your days <33 7:30-11:30 AND 1-5:30 sounds like such a horrible split omg i'm so sorry 😭😭😭 you're so strong for getting through that i hope your day yesterday at work was also good!! AND THAT YOU ATE MORE!! do not worry i did also eat!! nothing special i don't think my highlight was my dinner last night </3 just eggs and toast bc i'm obsessed and also i think i had a matcha!! and then didn't sleep until 3am and then woke up at 8 rip </3

BUT YES we are so connected like the way we're scheduled to work on the same days??? we're soulmates 😌 i hope you've been having a lovely day!! <3

#I HOPE I DIDN'T MESS ANYTHING MY HANDS ARE FLYING #I LOVE U MANGO ANON I LOVE HEARING ABOUT YOUR DAYS AND I CAN'T WAIT TO HEAR FROM YOU AGAIN <3 #IT'S TOTALLY OKAY THAT YOU MISSED A DAY PEOPLE GET BUSY!!#when i go back to school?? it's over for me </3 goodbye being chronically online #mango anon <3 #answers <3

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blindrapture · 2 months

Text

THURSDAY JULY 14TH, 2011 (Guy Fawkes)

10:02 AM I dreamt of metal orbs flying down out of the clouds, filling the world with electronic noise. I saw this happen out my bedroom window but didn't really pay attention to it. Instead I just played Half-Life.

10:06 AM Donnie's awake. We're ready for the day. This won't be so bad. Together, we can face anything.

10:11 AM everyone’s wearing a Guy Fawkes mask today great I hate you guys

10:15 AM This dude’s giving the masks out. Advertises them as “our symbol.” To tell who’s human from zombie. Okay. I can live with that. Even if it means I can't tell who's human and who's... not? What did I even see last night.

10:20 AM There seem to be less people alive than usual. That is, I see a lot of dead people lying in the streets. a voice speaks to me, do you want to see ..that message keeps appearing in my journal. it means they're here. ..screams.

10:24 AM an alley filled with guts. from the sounds of the crowd, this was human once. maybe a group of three. someone's saying this was caused by the Black Dog. the Omen, someone's correcting.a trail of blood leads out of the alley and off down the street. Donnie wants to follow. fuck. okay. I guess I'll go too. o_e

10:28 AM Gunshots, more screams. We’re definitely going the right way.

10:30 AM People are hiding in the buildings, slamming their windows shut. There's a smell in the air. Something rotten is following us. "Zombie." ...yep. it's just a zombie shambling our way. "More of them." More of them? ..oh. we're surrounded by dead people. and they're just.. picking themselves up off the ground. sigh. fucking Archie.

10:35 AM Where’d Donnie go? Fuck. She must have run off in the frenzy. No no no no no

10:39 AM Barking.

10:41 AM That one didn’t sound like a bark. It sounded like a human trying to be a dog. Tiger Stripes, we’re gonna have to face another Fear. That, or some dude dressed up as a dog.

10:45 AM This is the building where we found the dead mayor or whatever. There's no Door here anymore. The uncanny barking’s coming from the back.

10:46 AM …SHIT DONNIE Big black dog's standing over her, snarling. Get away from her, you bitch.

10:47 AM I FUCKING HATE DOGS WHACK SMACK GIVE ME BACK MY GUITAR MOTHERFUCKERRRRR GET BACK HERE. I want my Tiger Stripes back. ._.

11:03 AM When I got here, the Omen was standing over Donnie, and she was unconscious. She was covered in blood. I was freaking out. But it turned out she was only bitten on the shoulder. It’s.. actually, it didn’t get much flesh. Only a little. The blood must have been from the fucking dog. Anyway, I got her back inside the building, and I found a first-aid kit in a bathroom. She’s good, breathing, cleaned as much as I could without taking off her clothes.

11:08 AM She woke up and asked for some water. She’s fine now. "I saw it when we were crowded by zombies. I wanted.. I needed to make sure I went after it. If I have a chance of actually helping people…" You did the right thing, Donnie. ._. I'm just so worried. It's really risky to go confront a Fear, let alone one we don't even know. "Lots of them have been willing to talk. But this one really is just a dog. Are we sure it's a Fear? It might just be another weird monster from the rabbit hole worlds." People are saying it's a Fear, and I.. guess I trust them on it. We can always ask EAT about it? "You're so trusting of that one…" Well. It's, like. I don't know. I keep thinking these things can be charted, can be explained, can be followed, but none of it is consistent. This one had a chance to kill you, and it only bit you. What is there to understand about the Fears?

11:14 AM Donnie wants to go back out there. I insist we stay, just for a little bit. I will protect you.

11:32 AM Zombies outside. No. Don’t go out. Let them come in. It's just you and me right now.

1:54 PM wrups, Donnie's waking me up; I dozed off a little there. cursory glance, no zombies got in. they shambled off. good. "jordan" yeah? :) "jordan." ..yeah? o: she's looking over at the oh the window it's a guy fawkes mask... face… breathing through its mouth, looking in at us how long has it been standing there "it was there when I woke up" "Please let me in." fdisfdifa that was its voice. are we. are we gonna? "not a chance." right. yeah. good.

1:56 PM CRASH Some dude's got the Fawkes Thing on the ground, outside. They're grappling and attacking each other. Maybe we should at least, like.. take this as an opportunity to sneak out back? Donnie's agreeing

2:04 PM ..what do you think it is? Some kind of Fear that can.. transform your face into a mask? "It reminds me of ghost stories." Like. BBC Christmases. "Yeah. What? I guess." Well, what should we call it? "Uh. Mask.. guys? The names are usually your thing." Hm. Guy Fawkes... but freakish... fucking freakish... a motherfucking ghost… The MotherFawker? ...she's patting my head. "You can call it what you want. I'm not gonna call it that."

2:05 PM She wants to go back to kicking some major zombie ass. Well. ..alright.

2:58 PM Okay, I’ll admit, it is pretty fun to kill zombies just for the sake of killing zombies. .w.

3:09 PM All the zombies are running away. ..oh hey, it’s the dude who stopped the MotherFawker! He’s wearing a Fawkes mask, and he looks quite happy to see us. ..wait a minute.

3:10 PM RUN

3:14 PM THE MOTHERFAWKER, HE IS THE MOTHERFAWKER SOMEHOW MAYBE THERE’S MORE THAN ONE

3:15 PM Wait. Why do we keep running. We should stand and face this thing. Donnie’s all for it. Okay, so let’s do it!

3:23 PM ..I guess he’s not coming. So let’s go to him.

3:30 PM Where the hell is he?

3:35 PM I see nothing. The town seems completely empty.

3:40444444444444444444444 i am alone i have been alone for 13 years, to the day, since 2011 donnie never even existed, that was just a story I told myself, someone to accompany me through a horror story i am completely alone i cant find anyone and it is so cold the snow is falling in england in the middle of july the air is abnormally cold thermometer says were twenty degrees below zero this is cold and no one's reading...

3333333333333333333333333 5:03 PM What. Where am I. What was. That sign mentions St. Louis. Yes. Of course. I'm in St. Louis. It's.. 2011. What the fuck was that? That was, like, spiritually cold. The coldest thing I've ever felt. I’m.. warming up now.

5:11 PM Okay. I feel better. Relatively speaking. I found Tiger Stripes! :DDDD It's covered in dog slobber, and a zombie was kicking it around like an idiot, but, I found it!! But where the hell is Donnie.

5:18 PM I found her. She was in an alleyway, huddled up behind a trash can. She looked kinda.. unstable. So I gave her a hug. We’re all better now. Not sure what the fuck just happened, but we’re better.

5:22 PM The town looks completely destroyed. And now it looks damp, thawing over that sudden ice storm. I think the Fears won. In a matter of hours, the Fears won. And that was only a couple of them. We’re thinking we should start heading out now. Before the Fears pick off stragglers.

5:35 PM We hit the Missouri border. It’s a river. On the other side of this river should be the city of St. Louis. ..’cause we were in East Saint Louis, see.

5:40 PM Okay, found a bridge.

5:43 PM …splashes. Coming from below. Maybe we should just.. walk on. They're just splashes. We don't have to know what's causing every little noise... <:D

5:49 PM ..okay, it's been constant, I've gotta know, going over to the side of the bridge, what the fuck IS that that’s a lot of fish fish fish rising WAVES OF FISH like the headcrabs but FISH AND RISING OUT OF THE WATER AND OH MY GOD THAT’S A GIANT TENTACLE it's all just writhing around down there kinda disturbing to look at

5:54 PM WELCOME TO MISSOURI GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM THE RIVER

5:57 PM now what's that noise "oh my god." oh. tidal wave… that'll put the fear of god in you TAKE COVER

6:00 PM The streets are absolutely flooded now. This is carnage. ..this is EAT. >___<

6:02 PM People are walking out of the river. ..Camper. The Camper are walking out into the streets.

6:03 PM We’re hiding in a shop. I hope they don’t look in the window.

6:06 PM did they see did they hear did they sense us ..no. u_u;; Phew.

6:10 PM I think it’s safe to leave the shop now.

6:15 PM There’s fish flopping everywhere.

6:24 PM I hear struggling nearby. o_o

6:27 PM It’s a Camper and an Anon. Guy Fawkes mask, y’kn …oh that’s the MotherFawker. The mask’s mouth is moving, it’s definitely him. I think the Camper wants to fight it. ..let’s watch.

6:29 PM …the MotherFawker just keeled over and died, right there on the spot. o___o Is it.. safe?

6:30 PM no NO WHAT THE CAMPER JUST ITS FACE ITS FACE BECAME A GUY FAWKES MASK ITS EYES HOLLOWED OUT, BLACKNESS UNDERNEATH ITS NOSE BENT AND MORPHED ITS CHIN AND JAW CRACKED AND GROUND AROUND UNTIL FIXED IN A PERMANENT GRIN IT GREW PLASTIC FACIAL HAIR AND ALL COLOR WENT FROM THE FACE TO ITS CHEEKS oh god we are so running right now

6:35 PM so so the motherfawker is like some kind of virus once it’s done with your body it kills you and hops off to a new host Just what the fuck. o_e;; WHAT IS IT.

6:49 PM PEOPLE. We found real people. They led us down into a bunker. Filled with more real people. They made sure neither of us had so much as a Guy Fawkes mask on us. So these guys are clean. Oh god yes.

6:54 PM This guy here, name is Sean Hayes, says the MotherFawker’s another Fear, called the Host. My virus theory was right, it seems. Sean tells us that this Fear invasion was long in coming. “It was gonna happen eventually; we were an ambitious bunch and the Fears had their eyes on us for a while.”

7:32 PM Apparently, the East/St. Louis branch of the RAF has been winning towns back and tricking Fears into going into completely deserted areas. It hasn’t been easy. They’ve lost many more men than they really should have, and they’ve even resorted to enslaving regular humans in order to have all the men they needed for some of their plans. I remember hearing that Anonymous was Chaotic Neutral at its finest. It does amazing things, but then it can also do some downright horrible things too. So I guess I’m not.. entirely surprised these guys have resorted to slavery. Disappointed, certainly. Disgusted! But. ...that was that corner of the internet for you. But yeah. The Fears have known for a while that this is where a lot of rebels have been hiding. These guys are really just surprised it took them this long to strike. I asked why they didn’t prepare for this. “We did. What we didn’t prepare for was the Omen. “We had no idea that thing even existed until last night. It moves like a cloud, and its eyes burn your mind to look at. We thought it was just a regular dog, but no. It’s a Fear, alright. It snuck into our defenses; as I said, we thought it was just a dog! It can disguise itself way too well. It tore us apart. Our plans were shattered. Hell, it left a lot of us with nothing but minor injuries. That’s what scares us the most. What the hell is it trying to do, y’know?” Y..yeah. .__.;; Note to self: Don’t let Donnie leave your sight.

9:30 PM WHAT THE HELL That dude over there just went crazy. He’s attacking everyone who comes near. I’m.. gonna try to see what I can do.

9:33 PM ..he called me “Rael.”

9:35 PM I bonked him on the head with Tiger Stripes, and then he just.. ran out of the bunker.

9:40 PM ..I’m. I dunno. I’m gonna look around. Donnie’s coming too.

9:51 PM This alleyway leads to an Aztec temple. Rabbit hole. I guess it’s time we drifted out of town.

10:03 PM We’ve been looking around this temple for a while now. It actually seems to be more of a maze than anything else.

10:09 PM The ceiling is getting higher.

10:20 PM The maze stops here. There’s a steel door here. We’re gonna try to break it down.

10:26 PM CRASH! In here’s.. huh. This is the Camper Festival. The crowd looks a lot bigger than last time. On the stage is Muse. They’re playing “Citizen Erased.”

10:30 PM That was a pretty bad performance. o_o Matthew Bellamy apologized for it. “We’ve been doing this every day for two months now.” The crowd is shouting “EXOGENESIS.” The band looks exasperated. Bellamy is saying that they’re tired of playing the same songs. “Don’t you want to hear something else, like.. ‘Stockholm Syndrome?’” “EXOGENESIS!”

10:31 PM Wow, that takes balls. They’re playing “Stockholm Syndrome” anyway! ..what The crowd stood up all at once.

10:32 PM Are they really They’re storming the stage!

10:33 PM …oh my god. As the crowd tears them apart, Muse keeps playing. They’re improvising some of the most beautiful progressions I’ve ever heard. They’re turning “Stockholm Syndrome” into a progressive masterpiece, and yet the Camper doesn’t care.

10:34 PM oh god Bellamy’s piercing scream marked the end of Muse’s career. .__.

10:35 PM Next up is Yes. They look terrified. o_o;; donnie "let's get the fuck out of here" okay

10:39 PM We’re out in the concert lobby. Dream Theater is here.

10:40 PM They look so relieved to see fans who aren’t Camper. .w.;;

10:53 PM We’ve just been standing here, chatting and laughing about things. John Petrucci is an awesome man. :3

10:56 PM I asked how they hope to survive. “Well, we’re just gonna.. keep playing!” LaBrie sounds determined, but not too happy. Mangini says the crowd loves his drum solos, and he loves playing them, so he could go on for a while more. In fact, that seems to be the general consensus. They still enjoy playing, so they can continue for a while.

11:00 PM Donnie asked them what they knew about the upcoming Rapture. Silence. ..John Myung. “It’s coming faster now.”

11:01 PM We’re leaving now.

11:05 PM We’re in the town of Carrolton, Missouri. According to the signs. It’s quiet, as every other town seems to be these days. We’re just looking for a house so we can sleep.

11:11 PM I wish we can figure this Rapture business out.

(Attached: “Camper Festival promised some good bands, even bands who had long since disbanded, and performances were powerful to start out. Show quickly lost steam within few days. Show kept going. Weeks later, show still going. Months later, show still going, bands clearly not into it anymore, made me grow to hate some of my favorite songs. Crowd picky. Food pretty good. Never did get to see DragonForce play. Not ideal, one star.”)

[PREV LOG] [TABLE OF CONTENTS] [NEXT LOG]

#ogtrib #oh god the rapture is burning #ogtrib act 2

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koolkat9 · 2 years

Note

Can you create a fanfiction where your favorite hetalia otp is stuck in a christmas hallmark or lifetime movie?

You know what, I've actually been meaning to do this. Now a full-on fic would require multiple chapters, but I could give you a small section. For context, I'm basing this off a Hallmark themed dress up thing I made once:

Rating: T

Pairing; GerEng

Word Count: 1602

Read on Ao3

A Puppy for Christmas

Arthur Kirkland--or more widely known by his pen name A.K. Walker--had made a plan: Spend Christmas with his eldest brother Dylan in their hometown in the heart of the English countryside and perhaps stir up some new ideas for his next novel. But life had always had that psychotic way of toying with you, and Arthur had been faced with one of those moments.

Instead of his cozy childhood home in the middle of nowhere, he was stuck in a small, but bustling tourist town in Michigan after an emergency landing. Though he’d love to do nothing more than scream, he wasn’t a child, and that wasn’t going to help him. Collecting his suitcase, and tightening his coat around him, he set off into the freezing vortex.

Though the rest of the town lay dark save for the Christmas lights lining the street, one building stayed lit. It was a grand home made of weathered brick, mossy trimming, and a homey wrap-around porch. Vintage, just how Arthur liked his buildings.

Garland strung with golden lights swayed in the wind as Arthur approached. It looked like something out of a Christmas card. Safely under the roof of the wrap-around porch, Arthur could finally read the sign: Beilschmidt-Übernachtung mit Frühstück and in smaller print: Beilschmidt- Bed and Breakfast. Thank God.

Arthur shuffled in, not realizing how cold he was until the warm air of the in brushed against his chilled body. He brushed off the snow from his coat and stomped his boots on the carpet.

“Good evening,” an accented voice called.

Behind the reception desk stood a tall, broad-shouldered man, with light blond hair kept neatly back by gel. His blue eyes pierced into Arthur, far colder than the snowy world he just escaped.

“H-Hello…” Arthur stammered. He felt something wet against his hand, and he immediately pulled it away. Looking down, he found two adoring brown eyes looking up at him.

“Berlitz, don’t scare the guest,” barked the receptionist, “Heel.” The dog obediently trotted behind the desk and promptly laid down. A blink and you’d miss it smile spread across the receptionist's face as he praised his dog. But his sharp eyes and frown quickly returned when he turned back to Arthur. “How may I help you?”

“Uh…I was hoping to get a room. I’m a little stranded at the moment."

“You’re lucky, I have one room left. I hope you don’t mind two double beds.”

The receptionist sounded pissed or at the very least annoyed. Arthur bristled but tried to remain polite “I’ll take whatever you have,” he replied tightly.

“Here you go, room 202, just up the stairs. Breakfast is from 8:00 AM to 11:00 AM.”

No ‘enjoy your stay’ or ‘have a nice night.’ Of course, a handsome, tall, blond receptionist with a body carved by God Himself had to have something wrong with him. Before he blew up over something so small, Arthur made his way to his room for the night.

- - -

As soon as Arthur awoke the next morning, he immediately booted up his laptop only to discover that his flight was still grounded. With a groan, he rose to his feet despite the cloud of jet lag that hung in his brain. He looked over at the clock. Shit 10:30. He quickly threw on some clothes, brushed his teeth, and rushed downstairs, not even bothering to try and tame his bedhead (he always looked like he had bedhead anyways).

He was in such a rush that Arthur didn’t notice the large German Shepherd napping in the sun and the center of the bottom of the stairs. He didn’t notice until he was falling face-first into the pine floor.

But the impact never came. No hard cold floor, no throbbing face, he almost felt like he was floating. Opening his eyes, he found himself suspended mid-fall. Arthur looked back and meant those cool eyes from the night before.

Arthur felt as though he was being strangled under the intense gaze. The receptionist pulled him back up, causing Arthur to collide with his sturdy chest. His face burned.

“Uh…A-Are you alright?” The blond man asked, sounding much more unsure than he had the night before.

“I-I’m fine,” Arthur stuttered out, “I overslept a bit. Jetlag and all that.”

“Understandable, but there is no need to run.”

Feeling like a child who was being scolded, Arthur looked away. “S-Sorry…”

“It’s okay. Now go take a seat, I’ll make you something.” But the receptionist's hold lingered a few minutes too many before he seemed to shake himself out of whatever state he was in, going back to that cool, calculated man from before.

The dining room, just like the rest of the inn, was as if it was trapped in time. Dark wooden floors, cream-coloured walls, tables, and chairs right out of the Victorian-era novels that Arthur had loved as a preteen and well into his adult years filled the room. He took his seat.

“Hello there,” a gravelly voice called from behind, “I sure hope my brother hasn’t scared ya.”

Arthur turned to see a man with eyes as sharp as the receptionist's, but much more fire behind them. “Not at all.”

The man grinned. “Good... I just want to make sure no one feels uncomfortable. Both him and all you guests. Anyway! Can I get you some juice?”

This guy must have been the owner. “Orange is just fine.”

“Coming right up. Now, if you need anything during your stay, just call Gilbert or Ludwig, and we’ll help you out.”

Arthur nodded.

Breakfast came out minutes after Arthur had gotten his juice. Pancakes, covered with apples, cinnamon, and sugar with syrup and bacon on the side. Dipping his finger the syrup and giving it a tentative lick, Arthur concurred it was real maple syrup and not the ‘sugary fake shit’ as his cousin Matthew would say.

He poured a generous amount over his pancakes before digging in. Of course, nothing would beat Matthew’s pancakes, but these were a very close second.

Well-fed, Arthur decided to see what this little town had to offer while he waited for any news that he would make it home for Christmas.

The streets were bustling as residents and tourists alike browsed the colourful storefronts. So many shops full of little knick-knacks, artisan goods, and Christmas decorations you couldn’t find anywhere else. An old-fashioned bookstore that reminded Arthur of the one his late mother once owned particularly caught his eye. He made a mental note to ensure he stopped there on his way back to the B&B.

But what had truly taken Arthur’s interest was when he spotted the receptionist–Ludwig–struggling with a few gift baskets. Without thinking, Arthur rushed over, taking one of the baskets before it fell.

“Danke,” Ludwig said breathlessly.

“You’re quite welcome.”

Ludwig straightened himself out, cheeks flushing slightly. “Um…would it be too much trouble to ask you to help me bring these in?” He nodded towards a small brick house. Or at least it looked like a house, but the outside pens and the sign deemed it an animal shelter.

“None at all.”

A cheery auburn-haired man with a strange curl greeted them. “Ah, Luddie! You brought them.”

“Yep, this is the last of them.”

“Perfecto! Can I get you and your helper to take these to the back?”

Ludwig looked over at Arthur hesitantly.

Arthur nodded and followed the auburn-haired man to the back, Ludwig following close behind.

A cat spotted with patches of orange, brown, black, and white lay on the office chair. It stretched as they entered and blinked at them slowly.

"Hello Pookie," the auburn-haired man cooed, scratching the kitty behind the ears. "Just place them on the table with the rest of them.”

Arthur and Ludwig unloaded the baskets amongst the others. Arthur took a moment to look over them all. One full of toys and games, another full of craft supplies, one for a movie night, soaps and creams, chocolate and sweets, and so on.

“Great! Other than decorating the rec center, we’re all set. Thanks again for everything Luddie.”

“Good to hear. Just let me know if there is anything else you need me to do.”

“You’ve already done so much. And with that storm, I’m sure you’re busy at the inn.” For the first time since they got there, the auburn-haired man’s eyes fell on Arthur. “Oh! You didn’t introduce me to your friend. I’m Feliciano.” He extended his hand to Arthur.

“Arthur,” Arthur replied, shaking Feliciano’s hand.

“I sure hope you’ll be coming to the fundraiser next weekend. We could use all the guests we can get.”

“Fundraiser?”

Feliciano nodded so quickly that it looked like his head would snap off. “Yes! For the animal shelter. We’ve…um…we’ve been struggling a bit. Too many animals, not enough homes.”

“Ah. I-I’ll see. I’m not from around here.”

Feliciano’s face fell slightly. “Oh. Heh, sorry.” He shook his head, and his smile returned at full force. “Don’t let me keep you!”

Ludwig and Feliciano exchanged a few more words before Arthur and Ludwig took off.

“You didn’t have to wait for me,” Ludwig said as they exited the shelter.

“Oh uh…” Arthur wasn’t even sure why he had waited. “I-I uh…I don’t want to get lost on my way back.”

Ludwig tilted his head slightly. Arthur couldn’t blame him, after all, it was just down the street. But thankfully Ludwig didn’t say anything and just started walking.

Arthur stumbled behind, mentally slapping himself for such a lame excuse.

#hetalia #hws #hws england #hws germany #gereng #engger #geruk #hws prussia #hws north italy #hws italy #hallmark christmas movie au #fanfiction #hetalia fanfiction

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jodilin65 · 5 months

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Haha, this is horribly childish of me but I guess the prankster in me can never fully retire. I’m kind of messing with Kim now. Speech-to-text works best on my phone but I’m not always by my phone. I’m also not always on the laptop which works better than my desktop. So I decided that whenever I’m talk-typing on my desktop I will do it in an e-mail since that seems to be the one that works best compared to in Word or Google Docs. Rather than do drafts that I discard, I figure why not drop copies on Kim, right? LOL. Not sure she’ll get it, though, because there have been issues sending emails to those with different email providers in the past.

I deleted the Gmail tracker because it was hit or miss. I tested a couple of emails on Tom and the first one showed it was opened but the second one didn’t even though he did open it. So the messages I sent Kim shortly after realizing I’d been ghosted were probably opened as well.

Fucking honker’s mutt gave a few loud barks out the lanai at 5:30 in the morning. Again, too noticeable. Go home!

Tom is definitely going to have to get a different primary care doctor. He got to his appointment at 9:00 and was still waiting at 11:00. Finally, he just left. Luckily, he still has refills on his medication. This doctor has always made him wait a long time but this was the first time he failed to show up at all. I would be pissed.

My jaw is a little sore today and my TMJ is acting up like crazy. I don’t know if that’s because my surgically-created ear canal is due to be cleaned or if it’s because of the mouthguard. I would still rather that than be tired. Even though the spikes are back I feel rested enough. I had a little tired spell come over me a little while ago and I laid down for a few minutes, got up, made a smoothie, and now I’m okay. To finish up my almond milk, I made a strawberry banana smoothie yesterday. Today’s smoothie was cucumbers and raspberries. It was a little weird. I think my next one will be banana blueberry and then banana peanut butter.

I was telling Tom just yesterday that I miss remembering my dreams as often as I used to even if most of them were negative because I would sometimes get good story ideas from them. I remember two dreams I had last night, one weird, one bad.

Tom and I slept together in the weird dream, and he was still working. He got up and went to work. We were living in some kind of apartment building with a boutique on the ground floor. I went down and browsed around the store when I came across what looked like an amazing sex toy. Eager to try it out, I purchased it and took it upstairs. I crept into our bedroom which was still dark because the blackout drapes were closed and sat on a velvety bench at the foot of the bed. But instead of sitting on the bench, I sat on Tom’s foot which was hanging off the foot of the bed. He woke up and I asked him what he was doing in bed, and he said he worked all day and was tired. I was totally confused because I thought he had just gotten up and left. The dream ended with me trying to figure out where all those missing hours had gone.

In the bad dream, I was walking through a mall by myself when I heard what sounded like intermittent bursts of a machine gun. My first thought was that gangs were shooting up each other. This started while I was at one end of the mall but as I walked deeper into the mall, I realized the sound faded. So I turned back and walked to the end of the mall and opened a door with an exit sign above it. That was when I realized the shots were coming from outside but not on the ground. I looked up and saw dozens of similar-looking white planes that were a little smaller than a standard commercial plane all flying in neat little rows forming a grid. They were shooting down at the ground. Oddly enough, I wasn’t scared. I simply went back inside the mall.

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godeaterazathoth · 11 months

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a new style that came to me, still inspired by kiss me (kill me)

CW// body horror, implied toxic relationship.

youtube

This is a transcript of an audio recording recovered from the scene at ■■■■, ■■■■, on ■■/■■/■■■■, where witnesses reported hearing screams, when authorities investigated, they found multiple bodies stuck together by their ■■■■■ and covered in ■■■■■ and their ■■■■■ filled with ■■■■. This transcript will serve as evidence and as tool for investigation, it will be split into three parts. (part 1, part 2 and part 3) Each part will be concluded with a summary of its contents. Then a conclusion to the evidence will be made to be presented as the accepted version of events.

Part 1

[1]

I [2] love you, and I know you [3] love me too. [4]

1 female speaker in white

speaker is believed to be unidentified female victim 7.

3 the ‘you’ is believed to be unidentified female victim 8.

4 it is clear here that victims 7 and 8 had a romantic relationship. Or did they?

We’ll meet at our spot down by the broken shed [5].

5 the stated landmark allows for the victims routs to be plotted, the shed was at the south entrance of the forest, the victims were found 2 miles northeast from this point.

I’ll take your hand and together we’ll walk on the trail marked on your brothers [6] map.

6 ■■■■■■■■

You in my sun dress and me in your flowered hat. [7]

7 all victims were stripped of clothes, but a sun hat was found not far from the scene, traces of an unknown black substance, see lab results -> ■■■■

You walk me hand in hand past faded warnings [8], I’ll help you over the broken wall [9], we’ll lift the wire fence [10].

8 warnings? Old trail markings maybe. Or something else entirely?

9 passed through old shelter? Too far west not consistent.

10 there were no wire or mesh fencing in the forest anywhere near the scene or the proposed root.

Strike up my Walkman, we’ll watch the blowfly band jive under the silver moon [11].

11 this could simply be poetic imagery, don’t look too deep into it.

Darling. Kiss me. [12]

12 a far more forceful tone than before in the speakers voice brings up questions to the victims relationship. (see note 4)

Here we can see the two victims, 7 and 8, first enter the forest they would be found in later, the two victims appear to be romantically linked, or at least victim 7 believes they are. It can be surmised that the two enter the forest at the south entrance by ■■■■■ street, and slowly make their way northeast throughout the night. Autopsy repot shows 7 and 8 were only killed 30 (approx.) minutes before their discovery, lining up with the screams reported at ■■:■■, we can guess that the journey took both victims 1 hour from the length of the full recording.

Part 2

(NOTE, at this point it is evident that the sights mentioned from this point onward of the recording yield little useful information. Descriptions appear to be the product of delirium or otherwise altered perception. Psychoactive substances involved? -or something else entirely?)

NO EXAMINATION NEEDED.

Let’s run amongst the melting leaves.

You’re just going to ignore the melting?

Let’s kiss on the dead brown grass.

The air is so sweet, but everything is covered in rotting meat.

They didn’t listen to the warnings.

It got so cold.

Wait

What was your brother’s name? [1]

1 Who???????????????????????????????????????????????????

Why,

Dose this bark feel just like ₕᵁₘᴬₙ ₛᴷᵢᴺ ?

Help me

Why do the trees have veins?

Do you see any bugs on me? I can feel the

oozing

squirming and

creeping

inside me.

She clawed at her skin till it bleeds but it didn’t work.

Ԑ TЯAꟼ

(NOTHING SPOKEN WITHIN THIS NEXT SECTION IS TO BE MENTIONED OUTSIDE OF THIS REPORT. No useful information is present and is strictly a symptom of delusion. DO NOT ATTEMPT to analyse. – don’t listen to them. The department might believe there was nothing to this, but YOU know so much more than them.)

Don’t worry my love it’s all better now,

come here let me hold you,

make you strong.

Let me open you up fill your veins up with the eggs, harden your bones and let you’re your skin slough . [1]

1 Her voice… genuinely thinks… good…

After a second of pain, we can finally be together forever.

Say ‘I love you’.

[END OF TRANSCRIPT]

After investigating thoroughly, no workable leads could be found. Report ends ■■/■■/■■■■

NOTHING HAPPENED, IT WAS AN ANIMAL ATTACK, LOVERS SUICIDE, AN UNFORTUNATE ACCIDENT

AND EVEN IF YOU DID FIND SOMETHING

WHO WOULD BELIVE YOU????

#oc lore #short story #Youtube

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eruden-writes · 2 years

Text

The Unexpected Human Problem - Part 1 - (Yautja x Human)

Summary: The night her abductors die, Rayelle finds herself running for her life. She doesn't know where she is, what is following her, where to go. All she knows is she's not on Earth any longer and the thing chasing her has the capacity to kill.

Tai'qdei never anticipated finding a human when he took the job of tracking and subduing a small contingent of smugglers. It was only when the human attacked and fled fled, Tai'qdei - hopped up on the euphoria of a successful hunt - gave chase, instinct burning at his center.

Will sense return to Tai'qdei before he catches Rayelle? Or will Rayelle be subjected to the yautja's natural inclinations?

And what happens afterwards?

----

Author's Note: I gave in after watching Prey 2022. lol

I'll be uploading this to Ao3 and Wattpad, as well.

CHAPTER CONTENT WARNINGS: Cultural differences lead to non-consensual touching and stripping. Forced tranquilizer usage, but not for sexual assault purposes.

---

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Rayelle’s chest heaved as she careened through the alien landscape, two moons dolefully watching overhead. Behind her, the raucous crashing and thumping stomps of something large breaking branches behind her. As she raced through the trees and half-tripped over unseen things in the underbrush, her brain worked tirelessly to make sense of the world around her.

The trees weren’t a solid trunk of bark and wood nor the leaves flat and green. Instead, the trees - in orange and red and magenta hues - were like huge braided vines, smooth and slippery looking, with drooping branches and spheres that were presumably fruits or leaves. Rayelle wasn’t sure which. The flora around her shared the same deep purple hue of the globules on the trees, which implied leaves to her. Here and there, she spotted a nocturnal bloom. Usually glowing with some sort of phosphorescence.

If the flora wasn’t disorienting enough, the sounds of the world were worse. Around Rayelle, the sounds of life bubbled up around her, mostly in the distance. Buzzes and chitters and sounds that almost sounded familiar, but weren’t. Oh, they very much weren’t. Shadowy silhouettes scurried or flew away from her, but she couldn’t stop to make sense of them. Too many legs, too many eyes, too much of an odd shape that didn’t fit her mental encyclopedia of animals.

And still there was the ever present pounding footfalls and crashing behind her. No matter how she zigged and zagged or tried to lose her pursuer, they always sounded just a few steps away from snatching her up.

Every time she thought they were close, that she was about to feel the large clawed hands wrap around her and yank her back, flashes of blood splattered through her brain.

Bright red splashes, the squish of meat rending, the crunch of broken bones and cartilage, agonized screams and sobbing. All while she was cowering in that damned cage. Then, from the flickering darkness of the broken spaceship lights, a tall and broad figure appeared. Dripping in blood, dressed in black armor.

Chaos ensued, after they broke open the cage and snapped her chains. In the flickering lights, she threw something at the thing - her water dish, probably - and hurtled from her prison. Everything was a blur from there. She just ran, barreling her way down halls and ignoring the carnage until she found an exit and burst into cool, oddly heavy, night air.

It had taken her a few seconds to realize she was somewhere completely alien. But the creaking of the spaceship as that armored thing followed her startled her into another flee.

They were still pursuing her, through foreign terrain and mud and underbrush. Unless it wasn’t so unfamiliar to them. That thought made Rayelle’s stomach drop.

No matter how painfully her lungs ached and her muscles cried, Rayelle could not stop running. Survival instincts drove her forward, pumping her full of adrenaline as she wildly looked for somewhere safe to hide.

Before such a thing could grace her awareness, her worst horrors became fact.

A clawed hand snatched at the back of her shirt. A scream rent from her lips as her arms and legs flailed, making contact multiple times to something hard and fleshy but not creating any effect. Her back slammed into the cold damp ground, the air escaping her sore lungs, as a warm body dropped atop her.

A single hand clamped around her wrists, pinning her easily to the ground.

She threw herself forward and twisted in the creature’s grip. Her back arching, her feet trying to gain purchase on the ground to slide herself away. She might as well have been doing nothing. It barely made her captor struggle to keep her still.

The thing’s free hand went to her chest, their claws easily slicing the thin fabric. Rayelle jerked as she felt the cool air on her chest. Her desperation renewed as she violently struggled against the alien, needing to escape this situation.

Her heart stumbled as a vibration reverberated from the figure above her. A growl?

For the first time since being caught, she turned her eyes tot he figure’s face. She stared, wide-eyed, into the mask of whoever - whatever - had caught her. An evil little voice reminded her they had killed her abductors earlier, too. Not a small feat.Even though she couldn’t see any copious amounts of blood, the iron tang still clung to the figure. It made Rayelle’s stomach churn.

She almost forgot what the thing was currently doing - her brain filled with the blood-drenched memories - before she felt her shirt shift. It pushed away the sides of her torn top, baring her fully to the air. A whimper died in her throat as the alien’s clawed hands trailed down her front. The pinpricks of those dangerous fingertips traced firmly from her clavicle to her stomach, almost hard enough to scratch her.

It made her skin prickle in a confusing way. She gasped in a sharp breath, her back involuntarily arching under the touch.

The thing seemed to be appraising her. Which was nothing new. Rayelle had seen hundreds of aliens since being stolen from her home. Whatever the aliens were looking for, it seemed she couldn’t provide.

And she hoped that would still be the case now. They were assessing her. That was it! Maybe they looked for injuries.

But the longer the thing’s palm stayed on her, the more that hope dwindled. It stroked over her breasts and her eyes wrenched shut, still trying to convince herself it meant nothing. All the while, she tried to ignore how her body responded to the touches. Gooseflesh crawled over her skin and her nipples hardened and her stomach churned with a confusing warmth.

A large clawed thumb ran over a puckering nipple and Rayelle choked back another whimper. Disgust fizzled in her stomach as she felt a growing heat, a telltale dampness start between her thighs. Traitorous body, Rayelle thought as she instinctively pressed her legs tightly together. But the creature caught the gesture, nudging their knee between her thighs.

The hand moved lower, until it traced along the elastic waistband of Rayelle’s underwear. Her eyes snapped open, her upper body attempting to jerk forward, to break free as fresh terror bloomed in her head. But she barely moved. Its hold on her wrists was too strong.

Her sudden action caught the thing’s attention, their head cocking slightly. Its clawed finger slowed, its point catching on the fabric. There was a brief second when Rayelle knew what was coming. Before she could even shake her head or issue dissent, the sound of tearing fabric shrieked through the air. It had yanked her underwear off with ease.

A jolt shot through her body, suddenly aware of the strange planet’s ambient temperature and this thing’s too-close presence. Bare and vulnerable, a tremble arched through Rayelle. Her eyes wrenched shut as the thing - the alien, the creature - raised its hand to its mask. There was a hiss and it shifted, likely taking off the covering.

She braced herself. For touches and unwanted penetrations or teeth and tongue and rending flesh. She didn’t know what to expect, other than the worst. Which was a toss up between being devoured or violated.

Then it spoke. It was a series of clicks and guttural gnarls, reminiscent of the snarls and croaks of crocodiles to Rayelle. With effort, she swallowed, before forcing her eyes to open.

She wished she hadn’t done that.

The thing, the alien, was nothing she could have imagined, even as her brain scrambled to make sense of their features. Their skin ranged in color from a light yellow to burnt orange, textured like thick leather or tortoise flesh and speckled. Long tendrils - black near the head and fading to red at the tips - fell from the ridged structure on its head, which flared and rose into small ranges of horn-esque growths.

It partly reminded Rayelle of a dinosaur, until she saw its mouth.

Oh, the worst was its mouth! Four pincers - mandibles, maybe - with sharp curved ends guarded a smaller, lipless maw. A mouth filled with sharp teeth, ready to bite into flesh.

A whimper tore from her throat, her body instinctively pressing away from the strange creature, further into the gunk beneath her. Rayelle suddenly felt dizzy, the alien world around her spinning. Fear, shock, her breaking point. She wasn’t sure what was happening.

Once more, her eyes closed and the alien clicked at her. But the sounds echoed through her head, sickeningly.

It nudged its knee against her sex again. Rayelle wildly wondered if it could feel the preparatory slick, the heat, and misunderstood. It took her brain another second to realize a warm bulge pressed against her thigh. What her brain understood as an erection pulsed against her leg and Rayelle gave another pitiful, choked sob. Tears burned at her eyes, forcing their way through her eyelashes until droplets dribbled down her cheeks.

She had cried so much in the beginning, when she was first taken. When had she last cried? Days ago? Weeks? There was no way for her to tell.

She had thought she’d simply run out of tears, having to deal with life in a cage until the next horrific living situation met her. Being poked and prodded, watching strange creatures come and go. Being fed tasteless slop and offered tangy tasting water. Most had stared. Some had touched her curiously, with touches ranges from gentle to harsh.

None had seemed interested in fucking, which had been a relief.

But it turned out the tears were just welling up inside her. And here, with Rayelle partially stripped and vulnerable, under this massive beast of an alien, was when they chose to come flooding out.

Another round of clicky growls issued, heavy on the gnarl. She didn’t answer. Didn’t think to answer. Her heart just pounded and the hot wet streams slid over her dirty cheeks. Rayelle choked as she felt the creature shift again.

Thankfully, it was getting off of her. It still kept a firm hold of her wrists, pulling her up with it as it stood. Rayelle continued to whimper, unable to stop the flow of tears as she trembled. So enveloped by distress, she didn’t notice how the alien remained slightly bent, so as not to haul her feet off the ground when it got to its feet. With its other hand, it once again affixed the mask to its face, before hauling Rayelle bodily over its shoulder.

Bent over the thing’s shoulder, strong arms locked against her lower back and behind her knees, shook Rayelle out of her misery. Desperation once again gripped her chest. Her shaking fingers balled up, slamming against the creature’s back as it began to move.

Through her tears, she pounded at the creature’s armored back with her fists as her feet wildly kicked at its front, and she sobbed, “No!”

It was no use, though. Just riding along on its shoulder, Rayelle could sense how solid the creature was. They were solid muscle. The armor added another protective layer. Any hint of somewhere weak to strike would be fortified. Not that she could’ve caused any damage, in the state she was in.

But she continued to flail, her begging cries becoming screams. A small part of her hoped that, maybe, if she made too much of a fuss, they’d just leave her. Too much of a hassle. Let her die on this alien planet.

It was better than the alternative.

A brief window of hope opened as the creature stopped. She felt its shoulders rise and fall with a sigh. Maybe it had worked. Maybe it was going to drop her and stride off into the night. It moved its arm away from her knees.

Her heart sunk as she watched the creature’s free arm shift, the hand going to about where a belt would be. There was clicking, a beep, the hydraulic hiss of something opening. Something metal glinted in the moonlight.

Rayelle didn’t know what it was, what it would do to her. It was a cylinder of clear liquid with something metal on the end. Intuition told her it was like a syringe, a shot, a tranquilizer. She savagely squirmed and tried to shove away from the thing again, but the arm around her middle held tight.

“No! Don’t!” The shriek came out involuntarily as she felt cold metal press against her thigh. A sharp pain sliced into her skin, aching and hot. She could feel the liquid invade her vein, cold and harsh. Her shriek became a wordless scream and, for a few seconds, she hysterically jerked and pulled and fought.

Suddenly, the world started to melt around her. Her movements became sloppy, uncoordinated, before falling slack. Her screams dwindled into slurred yells, then drooling complaints, before she fell silent. She thought she felt the world shift under her. A barely coherent thought believed she was moving, it was moving again.

Rayelle wondered what was going to happen now and if would she ever wake again, as darkness consumed her.

—-

After dressing the human in a shift left by a previous mate and depositing them into the brig,0 Tai'dqei tromped his way back to the cockpit. He wanted to suit out and shower first, but he needed to figure out what to do about this new development. Setting a new destination - the drop-off for his bounty - into the navi system, Tai’dqei sat back in his chair.

Finding a human among the targets hadn’t been expected. He supposed he should have been more careful, given his targets traded in an assortment of things. Though Tai’dqei hadn’t heard of them pushing trafficking.

But if opportunities arose, that gang was sure to swipe it. It was a small solace that their heads and spines were now in his cargo hold, waiting to be cleaned and presented as trophies to his employer.

Tai’dqei’s mandibles tightened against his mouth and a small frustration rumble vibrated through his chest. Still, this caused concerns.

Where had the human come from? Earth? One of the colonies? Tai’dqei doubted they’d been born in captivity. There were a number of aliens that abducted humans - among other species - for the novelty of it. That had resulted in generations of humans, unaware of Earth and necessitating a rehabilitator.

They had been well-fed, from Tai’qdei’s assessment. His hand flexed, remembering the feel of them beneath their palm. Soft and warm, no bones on display through the skin. Their flesh felt weak, easily pierced.

Though he wasn’t sure what someone attracted to humans looked for in one. This one had large round pecs, too soft to obtain much muscle. There was a cinch in their middle, though they still had plenty of softness there, before they widened again at their hips.

After touching them, Tai’qdei supposed he could see the appeal. He hadn’t seen many humans in his life, but most weren’t quite as cushiony as this one appeared. And their scent as he touched her had grown increasingly… curious.

Tai’dqei’s fingers curled into a fist as a sudden thought struck him. Had this been a blackhole job? The damned Thrittens had been advertising ‘time travel’ via blackholes recently and a couple had been on the bounty’s payroll. Wanton time hopping had caused an uptick in temporal crimes.

Tai’qdei couldn’t drop the human off just anywhere before. A human born in captivity was in need of rehabilitation. They would be taken advantage of or trafficked easily on a station.

A human from the other side of the universe - even simply the solar system - could have completely different tech-translators than what was needed. An Earth-bred human was even more underprivileged. They usually only had tech-translators for their planets’ languages, not space travel.

A human displaced from their own time? Unaware of technological advances and without something to translate alien language? Not even aware of historical developments?

Tai’qdei wasn’t even sure if there was a rehabilitator - or anywhere - equipped to deal with that. He had yet to hear of such an occurrence.

All of that aside, there was another annoying thought biting at his mind for attention.

He’d taken their scared fleeing as a mating initiation. In his trade, it wasn’t rare to find someone who wished to show their appreciation in carnal fashions. Not to mention, humans were some of the most pliable and enjoyable sex partners, if rumors were to be believed. And there were plenty rumors swirling around humans.

Tai’dqei wasn’t one to pass up recognition, either. Yet, he hadn’t even taken time to consider why they’d been there.

Removing his mask, Tai’qdei let out a growly sigh. A minor ache throbbed at the side of his face, a reminder to what caused his own mistake.

As soon as the human slammed that metal bowl against the side of his head and fled, he’d misinterpreted. His body had shot out of the spaceship, instinct driving his muscles and lurid excitement in his thoughts.

A violent action followed by a chase were some yautja customs. Grab their attention, make them chase you - hunt you - so they could claim their prize.

That was not necessarily the same for everyone, let alone other segments of his own species. Tai’qdei knew that. The high of a hunt accomplished - knowing the human had seen it and believing they had to be impressed by his skill and power - had blinded his logic, though.

He wasn’t even sure if the human knew what he was. Even though they displayed such horror at Tai’qdei’s face, that didn’t translate to much. Many who knew what yautja were capable of feared them. Which they should.

Irritation coursing through his veins, Tai’qdei shoved himself from the chair. He stalked to his training room, grabbing a spear as his tangled thoughts fought for attention.

As he went through his forms, he tried to disseminate the problem. The first step was figuring out where the human came from. But wherever the human came from, they didn’t know how to communicate with Tai’qdei. No translator, no learning, nothing. And he couldn’t communicate back, since he relied on a Straux nano worm to translate.

It wasn’t rare for some of the more isolated colonies and outposts to not know or have translating mechanisms concerning yautja language. They often had out-of-date models with only the most prevalent languages.

Which meant Tai’qdei needed a form of communication. From there, he could determine what the best course of action would be for the human. Options branched out in his head, but before he could explore too many, he slammed the butt of his spear to the floor. Closing his eyes, Tai’qdei took a deep breath.

There was only one other he trusted enough to buy a translator from and to put it in the human’s head. The option made dread and anticipation swell up in his insides.

Tai’qdei made a low clicking growl, his eyes squinting open. Meeting with Ah’ke with mating instincts unsatiated was going to cause complications. He really shouldn’t wait, though. He didn’t know if the human could withstand the life support of his ship, didn’t know if they’d had any modifications done to them. The sooner he got this over with, the better. At least, that’s what he told himself.

He sent a communication to Ah’ke, before placing his spear back on the rack and heading to the showers. Hopefully, cold water would cool the mating fire in his loins. Tai’qdei doubted it, but he could hope.

#yautja #yautja oc #predator x human #monster fucker #exophilia #monster lover #alien x human #Rayelle #Tai'qdei #After researching yautja I have come to the conclusion #anything goes if you can explain it away #the canon is all over the place!#Did anyone catch the Straux mention?#lol #that's my original alien race - inspired by yautja ironically - from The Crew's Problem #:D

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z-ancunin · 2 years

Text

Stardew Sweethearts (Sebastian x Reader)💛

| Stardew Valley Sebastian x fem!reader | Warnings: implied smut, injuries, blood, fighting | You come home in pretty bad shape after a long night of fighting monsters in the mines. Sebastian tends to your wounds and also realizes just how much he loves you. |

To say you were injured was an understatement. You were beaten, bloody, and bruised from head to toe. One hand presses your left side as you limp home, the other is dragging your sword through the dirt. The burning pain makes it hard to breathe like someone is pressing on your lungs so you can’t get enough air in. Your vision is blurry and dark, but you know the path home like the back of your hand. It was 9:00am when you left for the mines, and it was now 30 minutes past 11. You can feel the exhaustion tugging your eyelids shut as you force your body to keep moving forward. You had to make it home. Then you could rest and tend to your injuries.

“Keep walking Y/n…just a little farther…”

So how did you end up in this condition?

Well, your husband’s birthday was coming up and you wanted to get him something special. You and Sebastian had gotten married on Spring 5, and it was now Fall 18. His birthday was on Winter 10. Sure, you had plenty of time but you didn’t want to wait until the last minute and end up empty-handed. Besides, obsidian was very hard to come by, so you wanted to give yourself as much time as possible to find some.

The day had started out just fine. You’d packed enough food to keep you energized and you had your strongest pickaxe and sword with you. You had everything you needed except-

“I know you're tough, but I still worry about you, sometimes. Don't ever go monster hunting without a life elixir and some sturdy boots, okay?” Sebastian’s voice reminded you.

Ah. That was your crucial mistake. Normally you always brought at least one life elixir with you while you were exploring in the mines, but today it seemed to have slipped your mind. You were so focused on finding Sebastian obsidian that you had forgotten to bring one with you. Food helped, but a life elixir healed all injuries and brought you back to perfect health. It allowed you to continue on even after suffering major cuts and bruises. Without it, you were at the mercy of the monsters that dwelled in the mines. And if you weren’t careful, you could die. Nothing, not even a life elixir could bring you back after that.

The farmhouse was in view now, the torches on the fence glowing in the dark. Hopefully, Sebastian and your dog Brooks would be asleep by now and you could slip into the house without bothering them.

Oh if only.

As you near the front porch, you trip on a rock, causing you to hit the ground and cry out. Your sword falls out of your hand and lands in the dirt in front of you. Brooks hears you and begins barking loudly. The burning in your left side turns to searing pain. Your hand flies to your left side and becomes covered with blood. The world is distorted and cloudy now, you’re losing too much blood. In your mind fog, you see the house lights turn on and the front door open as Sebastian runs down the porch to your nearly lifeless body.

“Oh my god Y/n!” he falls to his knees and gently scoops you into his arms. His expression is panicked as he looks you up and down before standing and carrying you inside the house. Sebastian sets you down on the couch and runs into the kitchen.

Your head feels like it’s underwater, your vision is blurry and sounds are muffled. Brooks comes to your side, whimpering as she licks your face in an effort to keep you conscious. Sebastian returns to you with a red bottle and puts it to your lips.

“Here, drink this.” he slowly tips the bottle back as you swallow the liquid.

Your body begins tingling as you feel your wounds slowly heal themselves with every sip you take. Before you know it, you’re fully healed and no longer in pain. You stand and stretch the stiffness in your body away.

“Thank you Seb, I-” you’re cut off by Sebastian pressing his lips to yours.

“That was close. Too close.” he wraps one arm around your waist, and the other presses your head to his chest. He doesn’t say anything, he just holds you.

“I’m sorry, I forgot to pack properly. It won’t happen again,” you promise.

Sebastian pulls back to look at you. “What were you doing down there for so long? I was starting to get worried, and then you showing up inches from death gave me a heart attack.”

You look away, slightly embarrassed. “I was looking for some obsidian. For your birthday.”

Sebastian’s expression softens. “Oh dear, my birthday isn’t for a while. Plus what good is a birthday gift if my lovely wife isn’t here with me to celebrate?” he pulls you in for another hug. “I need you here with me Y/n. I can’t run this farm all on my own.”

You laugh and look up at him. He’s taller than you, but you don’t mind it. “I ran this place by myself for a while, I’m sure you could do it without me.” you say lightheartedly.

“No way, this place would be ruined in a day. Maybe you could do it on your own but not me.” Sebastian holds your left hand and touches your wedding ring. “We’re a team now. I need you here with me.” he says in a whisper.

You smile and run your fingers through your lover’s hair. “I’m not going anywhere. Promise.” you poke Sebastian in the arm as your expression becomes playful. “What’s got you all sentimental? You’re not going soft on me are you?”

Sebastian lets out a small laugh. “I’m not, don’t worry. I guess I was just really worried seeing you so hurt.” he looks down at his feet and blushes. “I don't often show it, but I'm really happy that I'm your husband. Marrying you was the best decision I ever made.”

Now you’re blushing and smiling too. “I’m glad you feel that way. I love you.” you give Sebastian a small kiss on the cheek. You feel slightly more energized than before, but you’re still tired. It’s late. “Let’s get to bed, I’m exhausted.”

Sebastian nods and takes your hand, leading you to your shared bedroom. Brooks follows and curls up on her rug at the edge of the bed. You both climb into bed and settle under the covers. You shut your eyes for a moment before feeling like you’re being watched and open them again. Sebastian is on his side, looking at you lovingly.

“What is it?” you ask, turning to face him.

“Do you want to have a baby, Y/n?” Sebastian asks, blushing profusely.

You’re taken back for a moment before you regain your composure. “What brought this on dear?” you reach your hand out and brush some hair out of Sebastian’s face.

“I guess I’m just ready to start a family. Tonight made me realize just how much I love you, and I want to be the father of your children. But only if you’re ready.” he reaches out to hold your hand.

You scoot yourself closer and into Sebastian’s arms to kiss him slowly. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you on top of him. You feel a surge of energy rush through your body, as you straddle Sebastian’s hips. “Yes, I'd like to have a baby.” you seductively whisper in his ear as you turn off the lights.

#stardew valley #stardew sebastian #stardew farmer

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shutupanakin · 3 years

Text

Wasting Your Time ch.1

“Wh— what?” Tommy choked out, his voice hoarse from the lack of use all day.

The man rolled his eyes, as if he didn’t just ask a completely impolite question. “I said, do you have any booze?”

Tommy sat still. He reached into his jacket pocket, his hand finding only a plastic pen. Could he stab this man with a plastic pen?

Tommy pulled said piece of plastic out, visibly holding it up. “I have a pen.” Something about the bemused look on the man's face made Tommy click it, and again, repeatedly.

click click click click click click click click—

...

or; Tommy planned on dying. He meets Wilbur instead.

crossposted on ao3 here

Tommy stared at the yellow line, centimeters away from his feet. The announcement of the incoming train ringing in his ears, feeling the approachment of the vehicle vibrate the concrete under his feet. He forced his head up, glaring at the incoming lights.

Tommy squinted. He threw a glance at the only other person waiting on the 11:25 pm train— a little old lady, Tommy was sure that he had at least a foot on her. Her wrinkled hand clutched a brown cane, the other one on her ruby red purse.

Tommy would hate to inconvenience her.

Tommy stepped a few inches back, safely behind the yellow line. The train slowed to a stop, waiting a few moments before the metal doors pulled open in front of him, clicking with a metallic sound. There were a few stragglers at the front, where the elder woman had gotten, and a couple sitting in the midsection. Tommy ducked his head and grabbed a seat at the back.

Tommy threw his feet up on the empty seat next to him, resting the back of his head against the warm glass. Another few seconds and the doors hissed shut. The train pulled away, the lights in the tunnel buzzing past him.

Tommy mentally tallied how many people were in here with him; the three at the front, with the elder woman who was with him on the platform, and the couple. Six people who’s nights he could've possibly ruined. Delaying a train at this time of night would be rude.

Sam would be sleeping, he had morning classes that he couldn't afford to stay up late for. When Tommy slipped out of their flat his older brother had been snoring away peacefully in his room. The thought of Sam makes Tommy pick at a loose thread on his jacket, pulling it with his fingernail. He didn’t want to think about Sam right now.

Tubbo would be up, definitely. His absent sleep schedule sucked. He was probably in a discord call with Ranboo, talking or playing CSGO or messing around in Minecraft , he didn’t know. On a normal night he’d probably be with them. Laughing so hard and loud that it makes the neighbor's dogs bark. Falling over in his chair… and Sam would sleep right through it, like he always did.

Wasn’t exactly a “normal” night, though.

Honestly, he hasn’t had a normal night in a while. Tubbo, often Ranboo, would text him; “wanna play?” Or “why aren’t you in vc?” And Tommy would reply, “sorry, don’t feel like playing”, or,”can’t, got a bunch of homework.” Sometimes that wasn’t a lie. Then, Tubbo just stopped asking. And of course, Tommy couldn’t blame him, it hurt, yeah, but Tommy unintentionally ghosted them.

He just couldn't stand to be in that call, after the last few times. Tubbo and Ranboo giggling at each other, poking fun with inside jokes that Tommy didn’t understand. Little moments like those would have Tommy faking a yawn and saying goodnight. He didn’t want to ruin their fun.

Tommy’s phone buzzed, the little bit of reception that he got down here snapping him back to his current reality. The train had stopped at the next station, the couple standing and the old woman following. Tommy’s eyes followed them as they left, debating if he should follow. Another buzz. Tommy turned his attention back to his phone.

Tubbo at 11:30 pm

Toommy

Tubbo at 11:30 pm

do u wanna play Terraria

His fingers started typing, beginning a message, but shook his head, shoving his phone back in his pocket. His activity on discord was already invisible. Tommy didn’t know what to say to him. He didn’t want his last possible text to Tubbo to be something as simple as a turndown to play a game.

A thump from across Tommy startled him, the cause of the sound being a man with a mess of curly brown hair mirroring his position across the aisle. His leg up and arm resting on the top of the seat. Brown eyes framed with round glasses met Tommy’s.

"Got any booze, kid?” The train was pulling away.

For no particular, definitely unrelated reason, Tommy wished that he had just gotten off.

“Wh— what?” Tommy choked out, his voice hoarse from the lack of use all day.

The man rolled his eyes, as if he didn’t just ask a completely impolite question. “I said, do you have any booze?”

Tommy sat still. He reached into his jacket pocket, his hand finding only a plastic pen. Could he stab this man with a plastic pen?

Tommy pulled said piece of plastic out, visibly holding it up. “I have a pen.” Something about the bemused look on the man's face made Tommy click it, and again, repeatedly.

click click click click click click click click—

The man waved his hand, leaning forward. “Fucking— stop that! You are annoying.”

Tommy grinned, it didn’t reach his eyes. “I know,” He said, pocketing the pen. “and you are a loser.”

The man gasped in a show of dramatics. Bringing his arm up to his forehead, the brown fabric of his coat covering his eyes. “Oh, woe me, the tragedy, meeting my end to a child!”

Tommy scowled. “You’re a real prick.”

The older man didn’t falter, continuing his tirade. “Poor, poor me. All thy’ve ever wantedth was thy vodka.”

Tommy didn’t know why he egged this on. He could pull out his earbuds and tune out his nonsense until Tommy or him got off the train, whichever was coming first. “Your Shakespeare sucks,” Tommy grunted. “ Wantedth isn’t a word, bitch.”

“Then you know Shakespeare?”

Quickly, Tommy shook his head. “Absolutely not. None of that nerd shit. I just paid enough attention in Lit to know you’re a fucking moron.”

His eyes narrowed at Tommy, or more so, what he was wearing. “What sport do you play?”

Tommy’s eyebrows shot up, what made him ask that? “Pardon?”

He groaned, rolling his shoulders. “Your jacket, you insolent toddler,” He gestured vaguely at Tommy. “what sport?”

Tommy looked down, glancing at the red thread he was picking at earlier. “Oh,” That came out quieter than Tommy wanted, a whisper. “it’s my brothers,” There was Tommy’s voice. “Got it when he was visiting the states.” Tommy shook his head, brushing the thought of Sam away. “And my names Tommy, dickhead.”

The complete ass, he had the audacity to hum at him . “Wilbur Soot,”

Tommy scoffed. “That’s a stupid fucking name.”

“You are a child.” Wilbur chided, there was no true heat behind his words.

Tommy shrugged. “You’re a bitch.”

Another stop, Tommy tallied that as the third one; another stop he hadn’t gotten off at. This wasn’t meant to be a trip, he remembered. The ticket, which sat folded in his pants pocket, was one way. Tommy had bought it out of... what was it? Courtesy? He hadn’t intended to survive long enough for the ticket collectors to come around.

Excuses. Excuses, that’s what this was. Tommy was making excuses, simple as that. He wanted to go through with this, he was sure of it. He’d thought about this for weeks, planned this out for days, he figured out which day and which time of night would have the least people. But there were still people, there was the old lady and couple who had gotten off earlier and the four people at the front and the—

Well, there was Wilbur Soot, who for whatever damned, unknown reason, had sat down across from Tommy. Now Tommy was stuck with him until either of them get up and leave. He silently wondered who would go first.

No one had gotten on, or left. The train moved on.

“So uh, where—“ Tommy stumbled, swallowing. “Where you headed?”

Wilbur shrugged, Tommy furrowing his eyebrows. "Nowhere in particular, just felt like getting on. You?”

The fuck did that mean? Tommy thinks. “So you just... got on, no reasoning. Just like that?”

“Just like that. You didn’t answer the question.” Tommy groaned. Tommy was edging back to wanting to punch his stupid face.

“Not when you answer so vaguely,” Tommy cried. “I’m not going anywhere in particular either, for your information.”

“Really?” Wilbur pushed, incredulously. Like he had the right to be skeptical.

“Really.” Honestly, who did this irritable dickhead think he was? Tommy shuffled, folding his arms. Maybe he will get off at the next stop, he won’t ever have to ever see the enraging presence that was Wilbur Soot and his stupid Reagan and Bush sweater again.

Reagan, Reagan… that was an American President, right? The more and more he observed the man, it could be concluded without a doubt that he was a loser. Not only that, but an irritable one. An irritable loser. What a fate, worse than death. He’d say it was a cursed existence, if you asked Tommy.

Tommy shifted uncomfortably, becoming too aware of the hard plastic seat underneath him. “I just needed to get out tonight. Don’t know why.”

Wilbur rapped his knuckles against the window, in a rhythm that Tommy didn’t recognize. “Running from something? School? Parents?” He grinned. “Girlfriend?”

Tommy’s face twisted in disgust. “I— no no no. To all of those! Down the list, no, no, and no. ”

“Running to something then?” You could word it like that. Tommy frowned, decidedly not answering. “What, were you gonna jump then?”

Tommy knew that Wilbur was joking, but he couldn’t help the way he flinched. “I wasn’t going to jump, bitch— do you do this to every stranger you meet on the rails? Interrogate them for their life story?”

Wilbur pointed his index finger towards the front of the train. “They would not care, you know,”

Tommy’s mouth was dry. “What?”

“Them,” Wilbur gestured. “everyone, they would complain about the delay, they— they would be at best inconvenienced. At worst angry at you .”

“You’re real emo, you know,” Tommy deadpanned. “A right gothic.”

“I prefer poet,” Wilbur corrected. “I am not wrong though, the people here, no sympathy. No empathy. Just inconvenienced.”

“You’re inconveniencing me.” Tommy expressed.

“Because you were going to jump?”

“ Oh —“ Tommy snapped. “That’s none of your business! Stop trying to psychoanalyze me you pretentious prick, what I came down here to do is none of your busin—“

“So you were going to? That is what you came down here to do?”

Whatever battle they were fighting, Tommy was losing, and he was exasperated . “Oh, so, what if I was? Why do you care?”

“Come on,” Wilbur said, swinging his legs over the seat and standing up. How his legs weren’t asleep, Tommy didn’t know. Tommy hit his asleep leg, silently cursing it.

“Wha’?” Tommy asked, narrowing his eyes. “What makes you think I wanna get off with you?”

Wilbur shrugged. “Well, I have nowhere to go, and you have nowhere to go, and to be honest this is getting depressing. And, I would rather not leave a possible suicidal teenager alone. Also, I know a store outside this station.”

Tommy groaned. “Oh no,” He said. “I’m being kidnapped. No, stop, someone help please.” He stood up, shaking the static like feeling out of his left leg. Begrudgingly following Wilbur when the sliding doors pulled open. “Is this the part where your gang comes around the corner in a white van and shoves me in?”

“I don’t have enough friends for that.” Wilbur insisted, leading Tommy up the concrete stairs of the station. Tommy couldn’t help his smile. “I believe you.” Wilbur blew air out his nose, hopefully in amusement.

Tommy checked his phone, the bright light illuminating his face as he and Wilbur stepped out of the tunnel. 12:22 am stared back at him, along with a few more texts from Tubbo. Tommy pocketed it.

Tommy breathed in the crisp midnight air, after almost an hour in the underground, the fresh air felt nice. The area was rural, decently lit for the middle of the night. Tommy turned to look at Wilbur. “So where we goin? Pub? Club? I don’t have a fake ID, big dubbs.”

“No,” Wilbur shook his head, starting his trekk up the hill. “Store, if you can call it that. He is open until three.”

They crossed the street before Wilbur came to a stop, tapping his foot against the ground. “This it?” Tommy asked, reading the sign. Wilbur giving a mmm hmm — in response.

JACK OF ALL TRADES

That was… lame, Tommy thought. “I can’t go in though.” Tommy double-took, stepping back.

“What do you mean you can’t go in?!” He hissed.

“Got banned.” Wilbur replied, as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

“How?”

Wilbur slapped him on the shoulder. “Story for later, my young friend. Maybe refrain from telling Jack I sent you in, though.”

Tommy huffed. “You suck.” He stuffed his hands in his jacket pocket. “You’re not gonna ditch me here are you?”

Wilbur rolled his eyes, holding up three fingers. “I swear on it.” His smile grew, eyes shining.

He sighed. “Why am I going in again?” It seemed rather pointless, to take Tommy to a store he wasn’t even allowed in. With a quick glance through the windows Tommy guessed it was some sort of gift shop, snow globes and odd looking jewelry lining their respective shelves.

Wilbur tilted his head. “Because it will give you something to do other than to ride the tube to the end of the tracks trying to make up your mind.” He answered.

“When you put it like that,” Tommy grumbled, pushing open the door, triggering the bell at the top to ring. The inside was small, and warm. It was definitely homey.

“Hello!” A heavy accented voice greeted Tommy looked up, a shaved headed man wearing a striped hoodie smiling at him. Jack, he assumed. He sat behind the counter, his legs perched up on the counter. He put down the magazine he had been reading. “What brings you here this time of night?”

Tommy’s mouth formed into a ‘o’, he didn’t expect to have to make conversation with another stranger tonight. “Oh, um,” He cringed, running his hand through his hair. “out for a walk, saw you were open.” He lied, Wilbur had said not to bring him up.

Starting to pick at the thread again, his eyes scanning over the snow globes and miniature statues. His attention fell on a bowl of pins, some were round and others were shaped. The scan bars on the back faded or scratched out.

He reached in, moving around the pins. He wasn’t really searching for anything specifically. Tommy rubbed his thumb over the bee shaped pin he had pulled out. “How much?”

“The pin?” Tommy nodded. “Two pounds.” Jack answered.

Tommy blinked. “That’s ridiculous.” He grumbled, opening his wallet. He handed it to Jack, fiddling with the bee pin.

“Have a goodnight now!” Jack called as Tommy left, stepping outside. Wilbur was there, like he said he’d be.

“Did you get banned for complaining about his obscure prices?” Tommy sneered, making Wilbur laugh. “Absolute ridiculousness.”

“What did you get?” Tommy opened his palm, showing the bee. He attached it to his jacket, the needle clicking into place.

“Jackets blank, thought it could use something.” Tommy explained, walking beside Wilbur. “I’ve been completely ripped off, though. You did this to me.”

“No no, mister Jack Manifold did that to you. Not me.” Wilbur expressed. “I merely brought you there.”

“To be scammed.” Tommy insisted.

Their walk back to the tube station was pleasantly uneventful, Tommy didn’t comment on how Wilbur got on the opposite platform they got off of. He guessed that was the sign that this night was coming to an end. They were going back in the direction they came.

Tommy silently wished that they didn’t, that they kept going. The idea of returning home was becoming less and less appealing. The robotic voice echoed through the speakers, announcing the incoming train.

Tommy resisted the urge to make a jumping joke, knowing that would earn him a smack against the head or something. So he stood behind the yellow line, Wilbur at his side. The inside had a single man, at the front alone. Tommy ignored him, hitching his seat at the back, Wilbur sitting across from him.

“This wasn’t how I planned my night, by the way,” Tommy grumbled.

“I know,” Wilbur told. “I am sure this had the better outcome though. I will make you a deal, okay?” Tommy nodded, starting to play with the edge of his sleeves. “If you can make it to the end of the week without, trying to jump in front of another train, or try to kick a chair out from underneath you—“

“That would be a really lame way to die,” Tommy interjected.

“I am giving an example, Tommy,” Wilbur huffed. “If you make it through the end of the week, come back here. Same day.”

Tommy considered it. “Same time?”

Wilbur shrugged. “Sure, although I would not recommend making a habit of sneaking out in the middle of the night.”

Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose, contemplating. This offer— there was no reason he had to take it. He could get off and never see Wilbur again, it wouldn’t change anything. The world will continue spinning, they would both move on, Wilbur would eventually forget about this strange encounter, and so would Tommy.

They stopped, again, no one getting on or off. Wilbur was still waiting for his answer. Tommy didn’t have it.

This was nice though , Tommy thought. It was nice to leave that flat, to get off his mattress. To have a reason to ignore the discord messages from Tubbo and Ranboo. He didn’t have to lay in bed, dreading going to his classes the next day, because he was occupied. He had something to do.

“Alright,” Tommy said. “I’ll take that bet, big man.”

“Deal?” Wilbur reached his hand out, Tommy leaned forward, shaking it.

“Deal,” Tommy gave a toothy smile. “I’ll try not to become a tubeline statistic until next week.”

“That is not funny,” Wilbur warned, although there was no true malice in his tone. “I will have you know statistics are no laughing matter.” Tommy barked out a laugh, the serious expression Wilbur word dropping. If the stragglers at the front were giving bewildered stares at Tommy, he didn’t notice.

“It was…” He wheezed. “It was kinda funny. If anyone gets to joke about that it’s me, alright? Isn’t that some, therapist shit or something? Using humor to cope? That’s me. I’m doing that.”

“You should try that, seeing a therapist,”

Therapy was useless, at least to Tommy. He didn’t need someone in a fancy office to tell him something was wrong with him, he knew damn well what was wrong with him. No pens, or clipboards, or uncomfortable couches, or ticking clocks and judgemental eyes will be able to tell him something that he didn’t already know.

Tommy thinks Sam knows one, or at least she’s studying to become one. A school friend that Tommy’s met maybe twice. The mere idea of dumping his shit on her, he almost felt bad! No thank you , Tommy thought. He would be avoiding that.

“Nah,” Tommy brushed it off. “I don’t do that. Don’t need that. Won’t do anything for me.”

Tommy didn’t realize how long they had been talking, because when the train slowed into a familiar station, Wilbur pulled himself up. Tommy frowned, watching the man stand next to the doors, waiting for them to pull open.

“So, see you next week Toms?” He teased.

Tommy groaned in annoyance. “We are certainly not at Toms yet, big dubbs.”

“I will get there I’m sure,” He said, stepping out. “Farewell Tommy!” He waved, Tommy’s urge to punch those stupid glasses off his face coming back.

Tommy flipped him off, watching the curly mop of brown hair disappear as the train started moving, the platform and the man with it being replaced by the cement walls.

His stop was next, he realized. Tommy would get off, he would walk home and slip into his bed and would have to pray that Sam’s heavy sleeping habits had not changed; that he hadn’t gotten up and realized that his bed was empty, or that the door was unlocked. The thought of Sam sitting there on the couch, waiting for him to enter the door like some sort of walk of shame—

Tommy quickly checked his phone, looking at the notifications. He breathed in relief, no notifications from Sam. No missed calls, no voice mails, no worried text messages; all things that would indicate Sam was awake and that he knew Tommy was out.

Shakily, Tommy stood up. The doors clicked open, waiting for him to exit. He could just keep going the other direction, he thought. He made no promise to Wilbur to return home.

Tommy stepped out, the doors hissing shut behind him. Wind bristled through his hair as the train moved again, almost taunting him. Look at me! Look what you missed!

He chose not to, though. Tommy didn’t because of a bet, and he didn’t even place money on it. A simple bet of wills was supposed to keep Tommy running till the end of the week. It wasn’t like Tommy didn’t enjoy Wilburs company either, it was… nice, having someone to just talk to, to engage with. He didn’t have to raise his voice or make a scene to get him to listen to him.

He would never tell Wilbur that, though. He was fucking irritating enough.

Tommy shoved his hands in his pockets, leaving the station. He’d come back, alright. If not just to prove something to Wilbur but to himself, maybe.

He really should've put money on it, though.

#tommy #tommyinnit #sbi #sleepy bois inc #sleepy boys inc #crime boys #wilbur soot #wilbur #crime bois #dream #dream smp #dsmp #wyt shutupanakin #shutupanakin posts

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thosewickedlovelies · 4 years

Text

AND THEY WERE WALLMATES: Banana Bread (part 1)

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Rating: probably T for mature themes (implications of sexy times and violence). It will go up later ;)

Summary: You share an apartment wall with Javier Peña, but that doesn’t make it any easier to get to know him. You didn’t think your baking would be the catalyst (read: Javi is jealous that Connie gets all the extras).

Tags: Mention of blood; super vague description of wound care; alcohol; TW for Javi: you have FEELINGS bby

Word count: 2,791

A/N: I guess technically this starts at the beginning of season 1, but I don’t plan on referencing the events of the show, so imagine they’re working on things less intense than trying to catch Escobar. I found Javier really tricky to write for, so I hope this reads okay! I’m so excited about the future chapters I have outlined for this lol pls get hype.

Masterlist

---

You had only been living in your new place for about a month when you got new neighbors. You were glad for the company- the four-apartment building was fairly new, and didn’t feel very lived-in. You did your best to add some personal flair to your apartment, but it still had the effect of reminding you of your own newness to this place, your lack of any deep personal connections.

Your other neighbor didn’t exactly help with that. Javier Peña had lived here for awhile before you moved in, but that was all you knew about him; you didn’t speak much beyond your neighborly greetings and his insinuating smiles. He never hides his lingering glances, but nor does he make any other moves- you sense he’s a safe type, all bark and no bite (without consent). So you always amusedly but politely ignore the invitation implicit in your exchanges. They don’t seem to have a lot of depth anyway, as if he’s just trying for the sake of trying. Granted, he probably never has to do much more than that- you’re very aware of how attractive your neighbor is on the surface. You just prefer to feel a connection slightly deeper than surface level before going home with someone.

You learn more about him from Connie, who tells you that he works at the embassy with her husband, Steve. In “janitorial services.” You raise a bemused eyebrow at that, but respect your neighbors’ privacy and don’t ask further questions. You help Connie get a job at a hospital a few blocks away from the one you’re a nurse at and promise to help her practice Spanish.

The building feels more lively now, and you’re happy to have a confidant upstairs, especially one who’s more privy to the life of your enigmatic hall-mate. You don’t know if it’s the neighborly care you feel for your new friend or if there’s some other unconscious change, but you begin to keep an ear out for Javier. You do share an apartment wall, although you don’t glean much through it. Some standard kitchen rummaging, television noise, the occasional bedroom guest (whose enterprises you try not to listen to, but damn if the man doesn’t have a perfect voice for after-dark activities). The most noticeable thing about him is the odd hours he keeps: sometimes in tandem with Steve’s schedule and sometimes not, you can never predict when he’ll be in or out.

Little do you know, you’re not the only one paying attention. Javier has spent many an evening alone with only whiskey and the television for company, but now there are other things to stimulate his senses. The smell of your baking filtering through the wall, even lingering in the hallway the next morning. The sound of you singing to the radio while clattering about the kitchen. Sometimes he turns the tv down to listen and imagines there being no wall between your two homes. What would his life be like with someone to infuse that kind of sweetness and light into it?

He doesn’t mean you specifically, necessarily. If, once or twice, your face jumps to mind while he’s taking care of himself in bed, he thinks nothing of it. You’re his beautiful neighbor- it’s a fantasy begging to be played out.

But damn if he hasn’t been tempted to make it a reality. He gets to taste your baking sometimes when you leave extras with Connie, and one day she catches his brow creased in a frown, distracted halfway through a slice of walnut banana bread.

“Javi,” Connie repeats, trying to get his attention.

“Yeah.” Javier snaps out of it, looking up.

“You’ve been staring at that piece of banana bread for a full two minutes. Is it gonna do a trick?”

He decides to lean into it, see what Connie’s reaction might be. “Only if the trick is getting me out of my pants. I don’t know a man alive who could resist the shit she makes.” He scoops another forkful into his mouth to prove his point, letting the rich, nutty flavor remind him of other places. Homes. Real homes, made of people, not the solitary kind he lives in now.

She rolls her eyes at his crudeness, but agrees. “You’re right about that. I don’t know where she gets the energy to do this after hospital shifts.”

Javier hides his next thought with another forkful of bread and a noncommittal noise. Wonder if she’d have as much energy for it if she had a man to tire her out. It was automatic, a question he couldn’t help debating with himself. Surely no one who spent that much time in the kitchen could have energy to spare on…other pursuits.

Connie is regarding him shrewdly. He avoids her gaze, focusing on finishing his plate in large mouthfuls to avoid the questions he can feel brewing. But he’s not quick enough. “Has she always brought you extras too?” she asks. Too casually, idling with her fork.

“No,” Javier says dismissively, and it’s not quite a scoff. “She wasn’t here long before you showed up. We’re not as close as you two.” Understatement. Did he sound sour about the fact?

Before Connie can ask any more questions he rises from his seat. “Well, don’t let me keep you. Tell Steve what I said.” With a nod of farewell, he turns and strides out the door.

One night you’re awoken with a start from where you’d fallen asleep on the couch. Heart pounding, you sit up, listening intently. You’d never felt unsafe here, but you’re aware of the potential dangers. What had woken you?

You hear a swear from the hall, and your muscles relax as you recognize Javier’s low voice. There’s a beat of silence, then a scraping, clinking sound. He must have dropped his keys. But then he grunts, and concern sweeps over you. You’re a nurse- you recognize the sound of a man stifling his pain.

There are long delays before each new noise that indicates an action. The doorknob twists as he grunts again, but it’s a moment before the key turns in the lock. It seems to take an age for him to get through the door; his motions sound clumsy before he closes it. Safe in the privacy of his home, so he thinks, he lets out a longer sigh, the pain and exhaustion now obvious in the sound. But you can hear his fumbling through the wall, and you worry your lip between your teeth. It is your place to go see if he’s alright?

Finally you decide that it is. You’re his neighbor and a healthcare professional, and it is your professional opinion that he sounded in-pain enough to warrant a check-up. Plus, you heard him that way before he got inside, you reason. So it’s not as if you were just being snoopy through the wall.

Just in case, though, you grab some muffins you made earlier as a backup excuse (once again mentally thanking whoever left the cookbook in your apartment). 11:30 isn’t too late for a friendly drop-by, right?

You knock softly on his door. “Javier? It’s me.” Nervous energy taps in your fingers. You’re never even been on his side of the hallway before.

There’s a shuffling sound, and the door unlatches. A narrow gap opens, into which Javier plants himself, and you immediately zero in on where he keeps one leg wedged behind the door. He leans into the elbow propped against the doorjamb above his head, while his other hand already holds a glass of what you can smell is whiskey. He looks like he would rather be anywhere but here at this moment. “Neighbor,” he greets dryly, a neutral expression on his face.

“Uhh.” You’ve never been this close to him before, and his appearance catches you off-guard. His usually combed hair is messy, waves tangling over his forehead, and he’s sweaty, the open collar of his shirt damp and the exposed skin gleaming with moisture.

Javier raises an eyebrow expectantly, taking a sip of his drink. His glances down at the plate in your hands, and it prompts you to speak.

“Hi, Javier. Uh, sorry, I know it’s late, but I thought I’d bring you some of these-“ you lift the dish “-before they come with me to work tomorrow. They’re banana bread muffins.” Your voice falters with your confidence. Your eyes can’t help but flicker over his face and chest, taking in the smear of dust on his jaw, the redness of the knuckles wrapped around his glass. Mostly you’re trying not to look at the leg he’s definitely hiding, which you can tell he’s keeping his weight off of.

Javier stares at you, not buying it for a second. His lips purse for lack of a cigarette to wrap around. He shifts the weight he has on his arm- damn, his leg hurts- and wonders what could have possibly prompted you to start bringing him baked goods now of all moments. “Why aren’t you bring those to Connie’s?” Like usual.

“Um, well-“ He sees your gaze finally drop to the leg he’s kept out of view, and too late remembers who got Connie the hospital job.

“I heard you drop your keys, and it sounded like you were in pain,” you confess. “I’m a nurse, Javier. I can help if you need it.” Though apologetic, your tone is firm, face sincere as you offer him aid. Him, your grumpy neighbor who does nothing but leer at you.

Well, he isn’t that proud. Javier sighs, and opens the door further. Your eyes widen as you see the long slice in his pant leg, blood still damp around the wound beneath. “Shit, Javier, what happened? It doesn’t matter, shit, sit down.” You surge forward without waiting for permission, tucking yourself under the arm of his uninjured side and steering him toward a dining room chair. Where he’d been about to sit down down and tend to the cut himself. He supposes your apartments mirror each other, but your familiar reaction to the layout still surprises him.

“Whoa, hey, watch the whiskey,” he exclaims, flailing out the arm holding the glass, taken aback by your sudden manhandling. With one hand still occupied by the muffins, you direct him solely with an around his waist and your shoulder propped under his armpit. He couldn’t have resisted if he tried. If it weren’t for the fiery pain in his leg, your hold would have him feeling a very different kind of heat.

You give him a look that says you won’t be fooled by his blustering as you deposit him onto the chair and the plate on the table. “May I?” you ask, kneeling, hands hovering above his wound.

“Oh, now you’re asking permission?” He scoffs in disbelief but waves a hand in consent, leaning back in the seat.

You scoff right back at him. “Look, I see blood, I make the macho men sit, okay? Why didn’t you go to a hospital with this?”

Javier studies you as you carefully lift the denim to peer at the cut on his thigh. He takes a sip of whiskey to buy time (as well as dull the stinging pain). You’ve put on a robe over what looks like pajamas, but you seem too alert to have just dragged yourself from bed. And yet...was that a pillow mark on your cheek? Just there, arcing from your temple to your jaw…

“Javier?" you're looking up at him, a touch of confusion on your face.

“Did I wake you up?” he hears himself asking.

Her gaze drops again. “No,” you answer. “Well, yes, but I fell asleep on the couch, so it was a good thing.”

Ah, that explained the pillow mark.

Finally you stand. Your hands rest on your hips, heedless of your fingertips smudged red with his blood. “It doesn’t actually look too bad. I have enough supplies here to fix you up. You stay here, take off your pants if you can manage it by yourself, and I’ll be right back.” And with that you whisk away, robe swishing through his front door.

Javier remains where he is, a bit stunned by this turn of events, your sudden insertion into his life. He shakes his head. Maybe whiskey and blood loss shouldn’t go together. He tosses back the rest of his glass anyway in order to wrangle off his jeans.

By the time you return, he feels more composed, if rather uncomfortably vulnerable, sitting in just his boxers with a bloody slice across his thigh. He watches silently as you arrange various medical supplies on the table and pull up a chair across from him. You perch on the edge of it and look at him before doing anything else. “Are you gonna tell me how you got this?”

He’s not about to tell you it was a fluke accident during one of Carillo's interrogations. Somehow, while his back was turned, the guy got free and tried to escape, swinging a knife wildly as he hurled past Javier. The cut was long, ugly, but shallow. He’d live. He couldn’t say the same for the man who delivered it.

Javier considers his answer. “Can’t,” he says. “It’s better if you don’t know.” His gaze skitters away as he speaks.

He works for the government with a poker face like that? “Janitorial work, huh?” you say dryly. Sighing, you reach for the antiseptic. “At least tell me what made it. So I can treat it properly.” You look at him steadily.

Javier looks back for a long moment. “A knife,” he says at last.

You nod, and rip open a packet of gauze. He sucks air through his teeth as the antiseptic sears the wound clean, but otherwise doesn’t speak while you work. Which is fine. You notice he’s drained his glass, and you empathize. Frankly you wish you had a drink yourself right now.

Once you’ve cleaned the cut it’s easier to see the damage. Which is minimal, thankfully. Most of the blood was probably from him moving around when it happened. You explain what you’re doing as you seal the wound closed. Only when you’re almost finished does he speak.

“Why don’t you ever bake me anything?”

It’s so unexpected that your hands still. You stare at him in astonishment, waiting for him to elaborate.

“What I mean is…christ,” Javier mutters. The unflattering fluorescent light overhead highlights the dark circles under his eyes as he scrubs a hand over his face. “You always leave extras of stuff at Steve and Connie’s. Never here.” With me.

You resume your work on his thigh, surprised to feel a tinge of guilt. “You didn’t seem like a baked goods kind of guy,” you reply, hoping you don’t sound too defensive. It was true, after all. Though you never got a sense of threat from Javier, neither did he seem the type who would appreciate domestic gestures of friendship.

He didn’t look offended, however. I’ll try anything once,” he says, the ghost of a familiar smirk suggesting he’s feeling better. But then he leans forward, all traces of smirk vanishing. “And your lemon drizzle cake was incredible.” Javier looks at you seriously. His face is too close for your level of acquaintanceship, but you don’t move away.

Surprised, you assess him anew, wondering if you’re catching a glimpse of the man beneath all the masculine posturing. He’s nicer-looking this way, you muse. His face softer, brown eyes wide and sincere. You hide just how pleased you are at this insight (which you’re sure he has no idea he’s giving you) beyond allowing yourself a small smile.

“Well, maybe next time I’ll bring you some.”

Javier can’t quite find another quippy response, so he just gives a small nod, finding it hard to draw back even after you break his gaze. He tries not to fidget as you place a final strip of tape over the gauze bandage.

“There,” you declare, your work complete. “That should hold you for tonight.” You stand and gather up your supplies, giving him care instructions as you go. “Got it?” You seem much more relaxed than when you first arrived, confidence in your work squaring your shoulders. It’s…compelling, much more so than your usual reserved smiles in the hall.

“Yes ma’am.” Javier nods, not having heard a word. “…Thank you,” he adds, begrudgingly grateful.

You smile wryly at him. “Goodnight, Javier.”

You’ve nearly reached the door when he speaks again. “Javi.”

“Hm?” Pausing, you turn back to him.

He clears his throat. “You…you can call me Javi.”

Your smile is much warmer this time, brightening your eyes, and Javier feels his heart pound. “Goodnight, Javi.”

#javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #narcos fic #narcos #javier peña #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters

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conradscrime · 3 years

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The Keddie Cabin Murders

April 30, 2021

In July 1979 a woman named Glenna Susan Sharp (known to everyone as “Sue”) left her Connecticut home with her 5 children after separating from her abusive husband, James Sharp. Sue and her children decided to move to California, where Sue’s brother Don was living.

Sue first began renting a small trailer but then moved to house #28 in the community of Keddie. The previous occupant was a Plumas County sheriff, Sylvester Douglas Thomas, but when he moved out Sue and her 5 children, John age 15, Sheila age 14, Tina age 12, Rick age 10 and Greg age 5, moved in.

Sue was a single mother of 5, struggling to make ends meet. She got $250 from her abusive ex, was on welfare and used food stamps. She also enrolled in a federal education program that allowed her to take business classes. Her classmates said she was a good student who got excellent grades, however they described her as a loner.

A lot of people in the community didn’t like Sue. They gossiped about her being on welfare and they claimed she dated a lot of men. There was rumours that she slept with men for money or was dealing drugs. Most of the gossip about Sue was the fact that she kept to herself and didn’t have many friends, though Sue didn’t mind this. She didn’t care what people thought of her and she was only looking to improve her life, with dreams of opening her own business to be able to provide for her children.

On April 11, 1981 at 11:30 am Sue and her children Sheila and Greg drove from their friends’ house to pick up her other son Rick who was at baseball tryouts at Gansner Field. On their drive Sue came across her eldest son John and his friend, Dana Wingate, who were hitchhiking from Quincy, California to Keddie. Sue picked the boys up and around 3:30 pm John and Dana hitchhiked back to Quincy where some believe that had plans to visit some of their friends.

The evening of April 11, 1981 Sheila, Sue’s eldest daughter had plans to spend the night at her friends house, at the Seabolt family home, who happened to live adjacent to the Sharp’s home. Sheila left the home after 8pm and Sue was left with Rick, Greg and their friend Justin Eason (some sources call him Smartt) who was staying the night. Tina, Sue’s other daughter, was already at the Seabolt’s watching tv, but she returned home around 9:30 pm.

Greg went to bed around 8:30 pm that night, and Tina at 9:30. Rick and Justin joined Sue to watch tv before they also went to bed around 10 pm. Sue stayed on the couch and was dozing off, but it was believed she didn’t want to fully go to bed until John and Dana returned. Allegedly people noticed some “odd” things that night. People heard a dog barking by Cabin #28 as well as noticing the back porch light was on at 4 am.

At 7 or 8 am on the morning of April 12, 1981 Sheila arrived home from her sleepover at the Seabolt’s to change her clothes as she was planning to go to church with them, when she discovered the dead bodies of her mother Sue, her brother John, and John’s friend, Dana Wingate in the living room. All three had been bound with tape and wire. Tina was not found to be anywhere in the house, and the three younger children, Rick, Greg and their friend Justin were still alive, unharmed in a bedroom. Numerous sources say that the three boys must of slept through the murders though this claim has been contradicted.

When Sheila discovered what had happened she ran back to the Seabolt’s home where Jamie Seabolt got Rick, Greg and Justin out of the house through the window. Jamie admitted he did enter the house through the backdoor at one point, to see if he could find anyone else alive, thus possibly contaminating the crime scene.

Two bloodied knives and one hammer were found at the scene, and one of the knives which was a steak knife had been bent at 30 degrees, clearly showing the brutality of the attack. The blood spatter evidence indicated that Sue, John and Dana had all been murdered in the living room where they were found.

Sue was found laying on her side near the sofa and nude from the waist down. She had been gagged with a blue bandana and her own panties which had been secured with tape. She had been stabbed in the chest and her throat was stabbed horizontally, the wound went through her larynx and nicking her spine. On the side of her head was an imprint matching the butt of a Daisy 880 Powerline BB/pellet rifle. Sheila claimed that the Sharp’s did not have any medical tape in the house so it was believed one of the killers brought it with them.

John’s throat had also been slashed and Dana had multiple head injuries and had been strangled to death. Both John and Dana had suffered blunt-force trauma to their heads caused by a hammer. The autopsies determined that Sue and John both died from knife wounds and blunt-force trauma but Dana had died from asphyxiation.

Sheila and the Seabolt family both claimed they had not heard any commotion during the night however, a couple who lived nearby in house #16 were awakened at 1:15 am by what sounded like muffled screaming. Keddie cabin #28 showed no signs of forced entry but the telephone had been taken off the hook with the cord cut from the outlet and all the drapes were closed.

Tina, her shoes, jacket and a tool box were missing from the house. A man named Martin Smartt, who was a neighbour to the Sharp family and the step-father of Justin Eason, one of the boys found alive from the attack claimed that a claw hammer had gone missing from his home. The police interviewed Martin Smartt and determined that he gave “endless clues” in the case and seemed to want to throw suspicion away from himself.

The police interviewed the Smartt family along with other locals and neighbours, including the Seabolt family who recalled seeing a green van parked at the Sharp’s house around 9pm.

A composite sketch of two suspects was drawn up based off testimony from Justin, who claims he witnessed the crimes. Justin gave lots of conflicting stories though, saying he had dreamt details of the murders but later claiming that he actually did witness them. Under hypnosis, Justin stated that he woke up to sounds coming from the living room while he was asleep in the bedroom with Rick and Greg. He went to see what the sounds were and saw Sue with two men, one with a moustache and short hair and the other was clean shaven with long hair. Both men were wearing gold framed glasses.

Justin said John and Dana then entered the house and began to argue with the men. A fight broke out and Tina then entered the room and was taken out the cabin’s back door by one of the men. Because Justin’s story changed numerous times and his stepfather, Martin, was one of the main suspects, many believe Justin was threatened somehow, and that’s why his story changed a few times, to cover up for his stepfather. It also explains why Justin and the two younger boys were unharmed during the attack -- if Martin was involved why would he kill his stepson? Martin would of had to leave the two younger Sharp boys, Greg and Rick alone because they were sleeping in the same room as Justin.

These composite sketches were drawn by a man named Harlan Embry who had no artistic abilities and was not trained in forensic sketching. There has never been an explanation as to why the police did not hire an actual forensic sketcher. The suspects were described as being in their late 20′s or early 30′s, one was between 5′11 to 6′2 tall with dark blonde hair and the other was between 5′6 to 5′10 with black greased hair.

Rumours began to start and some believed the murders had been ritualistic or had a drug trafficking motive. The Plumas County Sheriff, Doug Thomas, dismissed all of these stating that there was no drug paraphernalia or illegal drugs found in the home. A family acquaintance claimed that Dana Wingate had recently stolen LSD from local drug dealers but there was no proof of this.

The police spent a lot of time trying to figure out what happened at Keddie Cabin #28 that night and the case was described as “frustrating.” In December 1983 detectives ruled out serial killers Henry Lee Lucas and Ottis Toole has suspects.

The FBI thought Tina’s disappearance was a possible abduction. A grid pattern search of the area was done around the house with police canines but they found nothing.

On April 22, 1984, 3 years after the murders, a bottle collector found a portion of a human skull at Camp Eighteen near Feather Falls in Butte County, around 100 miles from Keddie. Shortly after the discovery, the Butte County Sheriff’s Office received an anonymous phone call with the person on the other end claiming those remains were Tina Sharp’s. This call was not documented in the case and a recording of it wasn’t found until 2013, at the bottom of an evidence box. The remains were positively identified as that of Tina Sharp in June 1984. Near Tina’s remains they found a blue nylon jacket, a blanket, a pair of Levi Strauss jeans with a missing back pocket and an empty surgical tape dispenser.

Keddie Cabin #28 was demolished in 2004 and in 2008 a documentary on the murders came out, with Marilyn Smartt, mother of Justin and wife of Martin Smartt, claiming that her husband and his friend John “Bo” Boubede who was living with the Smartt’s at the time, were responsible for the murders of the Sharp’s and Dana. Martin Smartt allegedly met John “Bo” a few weeks earlier in a Veteran’s hospital where he was being treated for PTSD after serving in the Vietnam war. Supposedly Martin was angry at Sue Sharp, claiming that she was interfering with his marriage as she allegedly would give Marilyn advice on how to leave his abuse. Martin was known to cheat on his wife, have violent outbursts and was even accused of selling drugs. Martin was working as a cook but had been fired a few weeks before the murders.

Marilyn Smartt claimed that on the night of the murders she left Martin and John “Bo” at a local bar around 11 pm and went home to go to sleep herself. Other sources say Marilyn went to the bar with the men herself and invited Sue to join them, but she declined. Supposedly all three came back home and when Marilyn went to bed at 11 the two men went back out to the bar. Around 2am she woke up to find the two men burning an unknown item in the wood stove. Marilyn also claimed that her husband Martin hated John Sharp with a passion. Other sources claim it was actually John “Bo” that didn’t like John Sharp and referred to him as a “punk.”

However in the documentary, Sheriff Doug Thomas said he had interviewed Martin Smartt himself and that he had passed a polygraph test. Martin Smartt died of cancer in June 2000 (other sources say 2006). John “Bo” Boubede died in 1988 and apparently had ties to organized crime in Chicago.

On March 24, 2016, almost 35 years after the murders, a hammer that was matching the description of the hammer Martin Smartt claimed had gone missing was found in a local pond and taken into evidence. Sheriff Hagwood who knew the Sharp family personally believes that this hammer was intentionally placed there.

In a 2016 article published in the Sacramento Bee, it was stated that Martin Smartt left Keddie and drove to Reno, Nevada and while there sent Marilyn a letter that said, “I’ve paid the price of your love and now I’ve bought it with four people’s lives.” Marilyn, who has since been remarried, says she doesn’t recall ever receiving that letter but she did recognize the writing as being Martin’s.

Plumas County Special Investigator Mike Gamberg stated that this letter was never taken into evidence and that the initial investigation of the murder’s in the 1980′s was done poorly.

Martin Smartt’s counsellor also admitted that Martin told him about the murders of Sue and Tina, but claimed he didn’t have anything to do with the murders of John and Dana. He told the counsellor that Tina had to die because she had witnessed the whole thing and would be able to identify him.

In April 2018, 37 years after the murders Mike Gamberg stated that there was DNA evidence found from a piece of tape at the crime scene and it was a match to a known living suspect. The investigation is still opened, with a $5000 reward for any information that leads to an arrest and prosecution in the case.

The police say they know some of the living suspects who were involved in this case and are convinced that they are closer than ever to solving the Keddie Cabin murders.

#unsolved #unsolved mysteries #unsolved true crime #true crime #crime #murder #suspect #evidence

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autumnsart22 · 3 years

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A Dream Come True: Shigaraki x Dabi x Reader part 1/2

So my friend wrote this fic but she didn’t have anywhere to post it so we decided to share it here! All creds go to her 🤪

I’ll post part 2 tomorrow, which is when it gets spicyyyy

“Y/N I am leaving for the night. You know what to do and your paycheck is on the desk in my office.”

And with those final words, a cheeky wink, and the slam of the back door, your boss stalked out of the empty bar. He wasn’t a bad person but a lousy boss and an even lousier business owner. Most of the liquor went into his morning, afternoon, or evening coffee sometimes forgoing the coffee altogether. You overheard some of the other workers in the area saying that this place was gonna go under pretty soon. Even without the boss’s nasty habit of drinking the alcohol, you’re are in a part of town that doesn’t attract many people. On a busy night you might have three or four people come in for a lonely drink. It was a lonely place and a lonely job but it was easy work and the boss always seemed to pay you more than what the job is worth. Just another poor business practice.

Tonight had been the same as usual. You came into work at 6 and set up the bar for opening at 6:30. It wasn’t until 9:45 that another soul entered the bar. He was one of the usuals and it was nice having another human being to chat with while you fixed his drink. He made the routine comments about how you’re still young and shouldn't be working in a run down place like this, and you gave him the same answer as always that you were saving up to finish school, and that it was a fine job. When he left it was back to mindless wiping of surfaces and organizing the glasses and no one to talk to. It was 11:30 now and no one else had entered the bar, but that was normal. It was almost closing time now, and the boss never minded if you shut down 15 minutes early.

You were locking up the liquor, back turned to the rest of the bar when two male voices came from the front door. That’s weird you didn’t hear the door. They seemed to be arguing, and one of them seemed to be in pain based on his frequent groans and strained voice.

“Sorry we’re closing up for the night.” you yelled, continuing the shuffling of bottles.

“And who in the hell are you?”

You had heard that voice before, but that was insane, just a coincidence. However at that moment you felt an arm roughly grab around your waist and a strong lock around your wrists violently pushing them into your back.

“OUCH! WHAT THE HELL?!”

You were violently pushed around, body finally turned to see the man that wasn’t currently restraining you from behind. If this was some dumb cartoon your jaw would have touched the floor. What the hell was going on? All logical thought swept from your brain. How could this be? This man could not be standing in front of you. No you’re dreaming. You must be. You fell asleep at work and you’re dreaming. Okay. Okay. You just need to wake yourself up. Yeah that's it. You tried pinching yourself but you couldn’t move your hands out of the tight grip. The only unrestrained part of your body were your legs. You violently landed a kick to your left shin.

“FUCKING SHIT!!” Was that supposed to hurt that much in a dream?

“If that was aimed at me, you’re pathetic” The deep voice behind you chuckled lightly at the self inflicted kick. You felt the reverberations of the low tone where your body was pressed against his. You knew that voice too! You looked down at the arm still gripping threateningly around your waist. Charred skin ran all the way down to the hand where a ring of staples held it to viable flesh. Oh my god. This can’t be happening. You continued to violently kick yourself, closing your eyes tightly before opening them again, persistently trying to wake yourself up and make sense of this situation.

“Hey. Hey. Hey quit squirming” You felt a leg separating your own, preventing you from further abuse to your shins. The arm around your waist tightened in support since your legs started to give out.

“Crusty come help me out I think she’s gonna faint”

When you opened your eyes, the lights of the bar were harsh against your blurry vision and foggy brain.

“That was a weird dream. What time is it?” you wondered aloud, looking up for the clock on the wall.

“And she’s back, and this isn’t a dream sweetheart.” the deep voice sent a shock down your spine.

No way. Your eyes darted to the two men standing next to the bar. It was only then you realized you were slumped awkwardly in one of the leather chairs scattered throughout the room, ropes replacing the rough hands from earlier.

“Now as I asked you before? Who the hell are you?” This time it was the scratchy voice that shot at you. The familiar lanky form of Tomura Shigaraki was leaning against the bar, this time the edges of his frame curved into shadow and his height adding much more presence than what you could have imagined.

“You… you’re Tomura Shigaraki” you stuttered in shock.

“I asked for your name girl, not mine. Now spit it out” He barked impatiently.

“I-I-mm Y-yy-/N-nn”

“What are you doing here?” He shot again.

“I-I work here” Eyes darting between the two men you’ve studied so closely before, but always through a screen. This can’t be real. They can’t be real. It was rather ironic how defiant your mind was being to the presence of two men you had spent hours watching, reading, and fantasizing about but this was insane.

“No you don’t.” Shigaraki’s voice becoming more and more impatient with your slow and stupid answers.

“This bar has been closed for years.” Dabi stated flatly as though proving you’re lying.

“I can’t believe this. This has to be a dream” you started mumbling to yourself quickly trying to understand how this was reality.

“HEY! This isn’t a dream, you stupid girl! Now tell us why you're in our bar!”

“You’re Tomura Shigaraki and you’re Dabi from My Hero Academia” you started calming down and succumbing to the fact that this was happening even if you were going crazy. Two villains from an anime you watch are standing in front of you seemingly real.

“From wha–– oh nevermind. What’s your quirk?” Shigraki continued to shoot questions at you but none of his words could cut through the hurricane of questions storming through your brain.

“How are you guys real? How are you guys here?”

“I am the one asking questions here. Now tell me what your quirk is?” He said annoyedly, starting to scratch his neck.

“I don’t have a quirk. No one here does”

“What are you talking about? Nearly everyone has a quirk.” Dabi questioned coldly.

“This is the real world. There are no such things as quirks here.” You continued finally allowing yourself to come to the ludacris idea that this was in fact reality.

“Very funny. Dabi what do you say we just kill her?” Shigaraki said with a sadistic grin evident behind the hand, taking a step closer to you. Dabi shrugged leaning against the bar, an air of unamusement lingering in his face.

“WAIT...wait...What if I can prove to you that this is a different reality?”

“Well go on then prove it” Shigraki teased continuing his advance on you.

“You’re Tomura Shigaraki leader of the League of Villains ––”

“Blah Blah everyone knows that” He said annoyed now looming over you, his deadly hands reaching out.

Closing your eyes and turning away from him, you continued to spurt out facts, waiting to be turned into ash.

“Your real name is Tenko Shimura, the hand on your face you refer to as father, you…”

SLAP! Your face stung but your body still seemed to be intact. When you dared to open your eyes, Shigraki’s face was inches from yours, murderous crimson glaring at you from between the fingers of his mask. Pinned into the chair between his two arms gripping the armrests, you were trapped.

“How do you know that?” He said through clenched teeth.

“You’re a character from an anime I watch. I’ve watched you guys for months”

“Liar. You must have hacked us or stolen or….” You could tell he was trying to figure out how you knew information that isn’t in any record or known by anyone.

“I promise. I didn’t do any of that. I am telling the truth.” you continued to plead.

“What about me? Do you know shit about me?” Dabi didn’t seem to be convinced.

“Ummm...Well I know your name is Touya Todoroki and you’re the oldest son of Endeavor and...

“You’re the son of Endeavor?” Shigaraki standing up and looking at him revolted.

“Hey I didn’t say that. She did.” Dabi seemed pissed behind the flat face.

“Okay but SHE seems to know everything about us so…”

“Fine. What do we do then? Kill her?” Dabi asked.

“Fine by me.” Shigaraki shrugs. You stared helplessly as the blue haired man turned back to you still tied in the chair.

“Wait! I know information about other people. I’ll tell you everything I know please”

“Sorry, but I’ve made up my mind”

The excitement was evident in his scratchy voice as he violently grabbed your face smushing your cheeks together uncomfortably. Shigaraki’s cold fingers dug into your skin, nails sharp and ragged. You could see his pointer finger still raised in your field of vision. You shut your eyes tightly as he slowly brought his pointer finger down to meet his others. You waited for something to happen. Were you already dead? Was it that simple? You opened an eye when you felt Shigaraki’s nails dig further into your skin. He was still standing in front of you with his hand still on your face, just as confused as you were on why you weren’t a pile of ash.

“I guess your quirks were erased when...”

SLAP! Where his hand had laid flat moments before was now red and stinging as he landed his second blow to your face tonight.

“Scar face any fire?” he shot, standing up straight again and turning towards Dabi.

“Nope. I am just as useless as you” Dabi returned.

You could see the annoyance fuming in Shigaraki’s eyes as the realization that what you had been stating was true. He was currently stuck in a different dimension with no quirks. You let out a sigh of relief, glad that you didn’t have to be worried about being turned into ash by either men.

“Alright brat” Shigaraki hissed turning back to you. “ What were you saying about information?”

“Well like I said before. You two are characters in an anime in this universe, and that means I know just as much about other characters... I mean other people in your universe. Of course not everything but just what’s been released”

“An anime you say. What’s this show called?”

“Um…” You hesitated knowing he wasn’t going to like the answer”

“Spit it out”

“My Hero Academia”

“Tch. Of fucking course it’s about the heros.” He said the last word with such disdain that it oozed onto the floor.

“Let me guess. All Might is the main character?”

“Well not exactly.”

“Then who the fuck is it?”

“Well….Izuku Midoriya”

“That annoying little green haired brat is the main character?! What makes him so special?”

“Well that’s kind of a long story and the whole premise of the show”

“Well we’ve got time, and we need to figure out how in the hell we got here and how the fuck we’re gonna get back, so keep talking”

“Fine, but first untie me.”

“What did you say?” Shigaraki questioned. A small chuckle came from Dabi who was now playing with the toothpicks you used in drinks, lazily moving them around with his hands, one already perched between his teeth.

“I told you to untie me” You were gaining some confidence since you realized you had the upper hand.

“There are no quirks here and I have no intent on trying to deceive you two, believe me I know what you’re capable of ” They could still harm you in many ways but you were a source of information and someone who understood their situation.

“So if you would please untie me. I promise to help you” At this point you surmised that they had somehow been warped here by someone else’s quirk either in or after some kind of fight. Shigaraki had a growing bloodstain seeping through his jeans, and Dabi had some deep cuts and few staples loose. Dabi and Shigaraki looked at eachother deciding whether or not to trust me.

“Look” You said exasperatedly. You were starting to lose feeling in one of your legs that was pressed awkwardly underneath you, and your shoulders becoming sore from the awkward angle of your arms. “I don’t know how you are here or why it was me you happened to run into, but you need help and are you really gonna try and explain this situation to someone else?”

“She’s right you know” Dabi said casually to Shigaraki who was obviously trying to come up with an excuse to hurt you.

“Fine. Go utie her”

With a heavy sigh Dabi slid off his stool dropping the toothpicks in his hand, the one still pursed between his lips moving idly as he chewed on it. He stalked over to you as Shigaraki sat on a stool at the bar from the growing pain in his leg. Dabi came up in front of you, and you couldn’t help but flush at how close he was. You thought back to the copious amounts of fanfic you’ve read as he reached around you to untie the rope. He was so close you could feel his breath on your neck and hear him chewing on the toothpick. He smelled of worn cologne with a musky yet slightly minty scent mixed with what you presume to be the scent of charred flesh. Once you were free and he was no longer in your personal space, you rubbed your wrists standing up trying to get blood flow back to your legs.

“Thanks” you say casually to Dabi as he walks back over resuming his seat at the bar next to Shigaraki. He doesn’t respond.

You start to walk towards the door at the side of the bar that leads to the boss’s office and the back room where you keep your stuff.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Shigaraki asks sliding off his stool threateningly, but he nearly stumbles when he lands on his ill leg.

“Don’t worry I am just going to grab my stuff”

“Dabi go with her”

“No. She’s not gonna go anywhere. Besides if this is anything like the bar then that room has no exit”

“Tch–” was Shigaraki’s only response. You take this as a concession and push open the door to the back room. When the door closes, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

Dabi and Shigaraki from MHA were real and standing in the room next door. And you were going to help them?! Did that make you technically a villain? How were you supposed to figure out how to get them back? Did you want them to go back? After all you had dreamt of scenarios similar to this many times. Maybe if you figured it out could you go with them? That thought alone was enough to make your simp dreams explode. What weeb gods had blessed you?

Your brain was racing as you gathered your sweatshirt and bag. You popped quickly into the office attached to the back of the room to grab your paycheck. Like you suspected, he gave you a random bonus but you weren’t complaining. You stuffed it into your bag and walked back towards the bar. You took a deep breath before pushing open the door, half expecting to be met with an empty room, but there they were, talking in hushed tones. They immediately stopped when they heard you come back.

“Are you going somewhere?” Shigaraki asked, noticing your bag as you pulled on your sweatshirt.

“This place closed over 20 minutes ago and unless you want the other business owners around here to come poking around, since I always close on time, we should head out”

“And where exactly are WE going?” Dabi asked boredly, staring off at the ceiling.

“I live about six blocks from here. Think you can make it? I have first aid shit at my place” You directed the last part towards Shigaraki.

“Tch-”

“I will take that as a yes.” you said as you turned off the decorative lighting around the bar, and locked the register. You walked towards the front door and you heard the two men shuffle around to follow you. You open the door letting them walk out in front of you. Shutting off the main lights shrouding the bar into complete darkness cept the bright green exit sign above the door, you locked the bar door and turned to see Dabi and Shigaraki looking around at the buildings surrounding the bar. Shigaraki had stowed father into his pocket and Dabi popped up the collar of his jacket to try and obscure some of his scars. You also glanced around taking in the familiar scenery. You never really noticed how similar it was to the shots in MHA. Weird.

Anyways you can think about that later. You started the route back to your house the two men trailing closely behind you whether it was for their own comfort or to make sure you didn’t try to bolt, you didn’t know but you felt much safer with these two with you. Normally you would walk quickly, key in hand, always crossing the street to whichever side had the most light, but tonight you didn’t worry too much about the potential danger lurking on the streets. All of them seemed miniscule to the two men behind you.

You walked in complete silence for the majority of the time. You had so many questions but all of them could wait till you got home. I am sure they have just as many questions for you. You could hear Shigaraki grunt in pain every once in a while, walking becoming harder as time went on. You were about a block away coming up on the small 24 hour grocery/convenience store where you frequently bought snacks and food on your way home from work.

“Hey I need to quickly grab some stuff. I don’t have much food at home. Are you guys hungry?”

Neither responded.

“Okay then.” Neither one objected as you turned into the small parking lot walking up to the store. They both followed you inside like two overgrown shadows. You grabbed a basket and started making your way through the isles grabbing essentials like milk and cheese.

“Feel free to grab some stuff if it catches your eye. There’s Soba cups down that aisle and Shigaraki there’s chips and other snacks there too. I just need to grab something over here” you say pointing towards the other direction. Dabi and Shigaraki glance at each other and stalk off together.

“You know it's getting rather annoying how she knows all this stuff about us” You catch Shigaraki telling Dabi as you turn to go grab all the other items you need. When you return they’re both there, bags of chips and soba cups in hand. It was rather cute how they stood there waiting for you to return. You walked up to the counter to check out and once Dabi and Shigaraki dropped their haul for you to pay, they walked outside to wait for you.

“Good Morning Y/N”

“Oh. Hey Thomas” you say to the cashier you’ve come to know over the many late night trips. He always amused himself by saying good morning whenever you came in after midnight.

“Who were the two guys with you? They seem kinda rough. Is everything alright?” he finished scanning your items as you handed over your card.

“Oh haha. Don’t worry they’re some family friends. They came to visit me while they’re passing through”

“Oh alright then. Well I hope you have a good morning” He said with a cheery smile.

“Good morning” you returned, resistantly. You grabbed the bags of groceries and waved to Thomas, pushing the door open and stepping outside scanning for Dabi and Shigaraki.

You spot them leaning against the side of the store watching some teens try and pick a redbox movie.

“We only have a block to go,” you told them as they stood up straight to follow you.

“Woah!!! Jamie look that dude is dressed up as Dabi!”

We turned to see one of the teens staring at Dabi.

“Look at the guy next to him! That’s the best Shiggy I’ve seen”

You had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from laughing. The look on Shigaraki’s face at a random teen calling him Shiggy was priceless. If only these kids knew. Dabi continued walking down the parking lot and Shigaraki looked like he was about to murder someone.

“Hey do you think we could get a picture with you guys?” one of the teens asked walking towards Shigaraki.

Oh no bad idea.

“Hey guys. Not tonight. Sorry” You intervened quickly, shooting Shigaraki a look that said don’t do it. He seemed to understand because he started to walk towards where Dabi was waiting.

“Aww man. Shigaraki’s my favorite character. Tell them amazing costumes.”

“Will do” you said with a smile and turned to walk towards where the two men were waiting for you.

The rest of the walk had an air of impatience as you all wanted to just get to your destination. You had finally made it to your apartment, unlocking the door and stepping inside. It was a fairly new building so the apartment was rather nice however it was one of the smallest models. There was only one bed and bath but the open concept living room and kitchen made it feel rather spacious. You walked into the kitchen putting away all the groceries as Dabi and Shigaraki looked around surveying your apartment.

“Feel free to make yourselves at home. I’ll grab my first aid stuff. There’s food and drink in the kitchen”

You walked down the hall to your room kicking off your shoes and taking off your sweatshirt. You grabbed the rather large first aid kit from the bathroom and brought it back into the main room. Both Dabi and Shigaraki had shed their jackets and seemed to have found some left over beers in your fridge. Dabi was sitting on the kitchen counter and Shigaraki was sitting at the dining room table, prodding at the wound on his leg.

“Don’t touch it. That's only gonna make it worse” you told him.

“Oh shut up. Don’t tell me what to do” he hissed.

“Fine I guess I’ll fix Dabi up first”

Shigaraki shoots Dabi a look of incredulity and annoyance, to which Dabi only raises his eyebrows and shrugs as he takes another swig of his beer. You set down the first aid kit and grab the extra stuff you bought at the store.

“Do you even know how to do first aid?” Dabi asks, watching you rummage for supplies.

“Yes. I had to get certified in order to work at a summer camp, so don’t worry I know what I’m doing. Although I’m not much help if it’s anything more than stitches. Of course unless you’re drowning or need CPR”

“Okay I get it” he said, taking another sip.

“Can you roll up your sleeves so I can see the cuts?” You turned to dampen a towel in the sink, and when you turned back around you were not expecting to be faced with a shirtless Dabi. You paused for a second, staring, before you heard Shigaraki ‘tch’ snapping you out of simp shock. You shook your head and started to address the wounds to Dabi’s arm and shoulder.

“(another name that’s close to Y/N) it’s time you answered some of my questions” Shigaraki said while sipping on his beer and propping his leg up on another chair.

“ It’s Y/N. Also if your gonna put your feet up at least take off your shoes”

“Whatever Princess” he said snarkily, dramatically kicking off his shoes. It took you a second to register the pet name he had just called you. No get your mind out of the gutter this is the real them, not the fanon fanfiction them. You continued to wipe away the dirt and grime surrounding Dabi’s wounds.

“So... we were recognized earlier by those stupid kids. Just how popular is this show you say we’re from”

“Umm that’s kinda hard to say since it’s within a specific genre but within that genre I’d say very popular, maybe one of the most currently”

“How do we fit into this show?”

“Well you’re the main antagonist as the leader of the League of Villains. The show introduces you through the USJ attack in season 1”

“What about me?” Dabi asks.

“Oh.. well you don’t come in till season 3 I think. Wait actually I think it’s the end of season 2 after the Hosu incident”

A small chuff came from Shigaraki, no doubt in whatever pride there was in being a more prominent character.

“Do you guys have any idea how you got to this world?” You asked.

“Hey I’m asking the questions here, but no. We were on an important recruiting mission when it turned ugly. I called for Kurogiri and we ran through his portal and you know the rest”

“Did you know any of the quirks you were battling against?”

“One guy had a weak poison quirk but I took him out in the beginning.” Dabi stated flatly.

“The two guys in front both had strength related quirks I think,” Shigaraki continued.

“There was that one tall girl in the back behind the pillar. Could have been hers but who knows”

“Hmmm….maybe somehow a quirk mixed with Kurogiri’s. Sorry this next part might sting a little” You said this last part to Dabi dabbing some rubbing alcohol onto the cuts to which he made no verbal reaction but his muscles tensed at the cold stinging.

“So you said the main character was the green haired brat right? So what’s the plot as you say? Why is it all about him and the heroes?”

You pause for a moment thinking. Is it okay to tell him this? He is a villain. Are there consequences to other characters?

“Hello?”

“Sorry...um basically the show starts with All Might choosing him to be his successor as the number one hero. Then it follows him through his path from being weak and quirkless to his journey through UA. That’s when you guys come in as the villains with all your attacks on the school and students”

“What do you mean quirkless? Green top has an annoyingly powerful quirk.” Dabi questions.

“Yeah… he defeated Muscular and that Overhaul bastard” Shigaraki continues.

Screw it.

“Well All Might gave his quirk to Midoriya”

Shigaraki’s eyes widened in interest, but kept silent in his thought process.

A few minutes pass in silence and you finish patching up Dabi and handing him a mirror so he can fix his own staples. He claimed to be pretty good at it now. You move the first aid stuff over to the table where Shigaraki sat.

“Your turn” you say looking down at his leg. He looked up at you defiantly.

“What are you not wearing boxers? Or do you not want me to treat it?” You said pulling a chair to where his leg was resting. He rolled his eyes but stood up and undid his belt and pulled down his black jeans. He was wearing red boxers that looked a size too big as they hung loosely around his lean muscles. You made sure not to stare after being caught earlier. You started to repeat the same process you did on Dabi but Shigaraki was much more vocal about the discomfort you caused as you cleaned the wound.

“You’re cut is deeper. It’s gonna need stitches if you want it to heal properly”

“Whatever” he said in response.“I wanna know more about how people here see us. That kid back there said I was his favorite character. How do people see us in the show”

“Well it depends. Everyone has their favorite characters for different reasons”

“Yea...yea.. answer the question”

“Fine. Most people like you as a villain and as a character. However you’re seen as childish.” A chuckle from Dabi that earned him a death glare. “Dabi you’re more popular and your past is a rather hot topic for fans. However both of you are pretty popular in the fandom. Does that answer your question.”

“What do you mean popular in the fandom?”

“Well you know like fan theories, fanart, fanfiction, etc. A lot of people like you guys. However a lot of it is fan theories, guesses, and headcanons, but people don’t actually know” you said threading the needle for the stitches.

“What kind of theories?” Shigaraki asks hesitantly

“Well for example for a long time it wasn’t actually stated that Dabi was the missing Todoroki child but fans believed it so much that it was basically thought of as fact, and then it became truth. Other theories are less intense like Dabi again for example is presumed that his favorite food is hot soba and yours is junk food or hand food like chips and stuff.”

“How the fuck do you people figure these things out?” Shigaraki asked, wincing at the pinch of the needle.

“Well the food thing was because you have the thing with hands so hand food”

“That’s so stupid” He hissed.

“But is it wrong?” You asked, already knowing the answer based on the grocery trip.

“Tch––”

“Why hot soba for patchwork overthere?”

“Oh because it was revealed that Todoroki, I mean Shoto’s favorite food is cold soba and the whole brothers thing. People connected dots”

“That’s so stupid” Dabi was the one who spoke this time.

“And again were they wrong?” You looked up at him raising your eyebrows knowingly.

“Also those aren’t even the stupid ones. People make up the weirdest shit, some as jokes, others as forms of comfort or just for imagination’s sake. Okay you’re all done.” You say standing up and clearing away the dirty gauze and other first aid supplies. Shigaraki pulls his dirty and bloodstained pants back up over his neatly bandaged leg. You take all the first aid stuff back to the bathroom and return a little bit later to find Shigaraki and Dabi arguing over who knows what. You hear some words like ‘She’ and ‘think’, so you assume they’re talking about you but just as before they stop when you walk back into the room.

“So I set out some towels in the bathroom along with some old clothes my ex boyfriend and my brother left here. They may not be the best fit sorry but it’ll do. If you leave your clothes in the laundry basket I’ll throw them in the wash tomorrow”

“I call dibs on the shower first” Dabi said, hopping off the counter.

“Bastard” Shigaraki muttered.

#shigaraki #dabi x shigaraki #shigaraki x dabi #my hero academia #my hero #shigaraki x reader #dabi x reader #shigaraki x dabi x reader #anime #fanfiction #fandom

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cucumbers-and-olives · 4 years

Text

Enemies To Lovers- Part Two (Charlie Gillespie x reader)

i forgot to post this last night, oops! here it is now...

<<<part one—part three>>>

Summary: Its New Years, and you fare asked to stay in town for the annual New Years party. But what happens before and during the party? Well that’s a story!

Category: it’s a league of its own

Fandom: JATP

Paring: Charlie Gillespie x reader

Word Count: 1,960 (woah)

⚠️PLEASE READ⚠️ Warnings/Includes: if mentions of drinking, drugs, (getting) roofied/drugged, strong language and typos

Please make sure you are comfortable before reading this chapter.

A/N: so it’s a few days late, i hope you guys enjoy this NYE fic a few days after

Mandatory Thanking of the Betas: THANK YOU LOVES!!! you two literally hold me up and help me make my ideas into their finished product, so thank you!

AO3 link here (will be up by 1/7 10pm est, i’m have wifi issues at the moment)

Please don’t repost my work without my permission, in part or whole. My work can also be found on AO3 under the same username. Thank you!

“Y/N!” A woman said entering your room. It had been a week since you had arrived in the Gillespie home. In that short amount of time you had met all of Charlie’s younger cousins (there were only three, but they were a handful), celebrated Christmas the Gillespie way, and gotten into a total of five fights with Charlie over a range of things, but each one had a bigger fall out than the last. You supposed that was why at every meal your spot was next to his, an obvious way that Ms.Gillespie tried to “bring the two of you closer together.”

“Hun, you okay?” Ms.Gillespie said, her hand resting on yours. “You’ve been staring at that shirt for a while.”

“I’m alright, thank you,” You said, placing your shirt into the suitcase that lay on the floor. You were packing to leave, but you could tell that the older woman’s appearance in your room meant that you wouldn’t be leaving on your flight. You held your breath as she spoke.

“I’d like to invite you to stay through New Years. You’ve been such a help with the younger kids, and it’s been delightful to have you here.” She must have been telepathic at that point because she rushed out her next point. “And Charlie has agreed to play nice.”

“Ms.Gillespie, you are so kind, but I don’t think I have enough money-” You said, not wanting to overstay your welcome any longer.

“Nonsense, nonsense!” She cut you off. “I knew you would say this, it’s the kind of person you are, and so Charlie has found you a flight and we are paying for it.” You could tell that there was something that she was leaving out, but you could get hit with that later. Ignoring your work and your family was something that you were good at. And besides, hanging out at the Gillespie house was fun.

“Alright!” You agreed. She sweeped you up in a hug.

“Wonderful! Have you had lunch yet?” You shook your head. “Well that is perfect, I’ve got some sandwiches, so I expect to see you down in a few, okay?”

You nodded, and with that, she left, a smile on her face. You were excited to stay longer, but would Charlie’s promise hold? Would he really be nice for the remainder of your stay?

“Let’s hope so,” You said, closing your door and making your way to the kitchen. You should have been paying attention, but you weren’t. Bumping into someone, you both landed on the floor, your phones and other things flying.

“I am so sorry,” You said, picking up the various items. As you reached for one of the notebooks, your hands met and you finally saw who you had bumped into.

“Is this a game to you?” Charlie asked. His eyes were tear-stained, and you slowly noticed that some of the pages had tears on them too.

“I-” You picked his phone up along with yourself off the floor. “Are you okay?” You asked softly, tucking his phone into his back pocket, where you knew it had been before.

“Does it look like it? God, will you just fuck off! When are you leaving anyway?” He grumbled, his previously sad tone taking on a very harsh one. His hand that used to lay by his side was now in a very tight fist.

“I’m leaving after New Years. Your mom asked me to stay, and she’s paying for the flight back,” You said, answering honestly. You didn’t know what happened when he got angry- really, truly angry. And you didn’t want to see it.

“That’s why she had me- Oh my god, no. Just no.” He barked, stalking off.

“Yeah, you know what, fuck you too,” You whispered hotly, calming yourself down as you walked into the kitchen.

“Cause I don’t care when I’m with my baby yeah,” You sang along with the T.V. You enjoyed dancing to the Wii, and you hadn't minded when Anna had asked you to join. But the same song had played over five times now.

As the song ended, you placed your control down. “Gimme ten minutes, okay? I just gotta get some water,” She nodded, and you stepped out of the room and entered the kitchen.

“Is it this cabinet?” You said, opening the cabinet that you guessed the glasses were in. They weren’t in that one. Or the next, or the next or the next.

“Excuse me,” Charlie said, stepping around you to open a cabinet you could have sworn you had opened. He grabbed a glass and closed the cabinet, and poured himself a glass of water.

You opened the cabinet to grab a glass, but they seemed just out of your reach. You got on your tiptoes, and your fingers just brushed the edge of the glass.

He let out a little chuckle and grabbed the glass, and filled it up. “Thank you,” You said, reaching for it.

“Oh, you thought this was for you?” He feigned shock. “This is for Anna, she asked me to grab her a glass.”

“Are you kidding me?” You shouted after his retreating form. Sighing, you decided you could do without water as you walked back into the game room.

He sat smugly on the couch, sipping at his glass of water.

“Come on, let’s play!” Anna said, tugging at your hand.

“What song?” You asked, looking to the screen as she pressed play.

“I love it when you call me senorita, I wish I could pretend I didn’t need ya,” Anna sang to the track.

You felt the beat and began to follow the moves on the screen. You knew Charlie was staring at you, and so you made everything bigger. More power, more accuracy, more everything.

When the song ended, he walked out of the room, but he backtracked to whisper something in your ear.

“Strictly professional, Ms.Y/L/N. You aren’t that good of a dancer.”

“What do you think of this, Anna?” You said, showing the young girl the sparkling black dress you had on.

“You need more color! And that’s too shiny, and you wore it to Christmas dinner, and-“ She could have kept going, but she caught sight of something in your closet and pulled it out. “This! This is perfect!” Red, off-the shoulder, a leg slit, it was something you would never wear in a million years.

“I’ll… try it on?” You said, and Anna smiled as you stepped into the bathroom.

You pulled it off the black dress and put on the red one, but as you zipped up the back of the dress there was something in the way. A little card.

“Huh,” You were confused as you pulled it out, but as you read it, everything made sense.

You placed the card down to look at yourself in the mirror. The dress fit perfectly, falling down every curve perfectly. It wasn’t you that you saw in the mirror. It was who you pictured in your mind when you thought of yourself.

“Can I see it now?” Anna asked, knocking on the door.

“Yeah,” You said, opening the door.

“Woah,” She gasped softly, looking you up and down. “I think Charlie’s gonna love it.”

Before you could say anything in response, Anna ran out of the room.

“Really?”’ You said as you accepted the call on your phone. “I look amazing, but why?”

“Remind me what you’re talking about?” Savannah asked.

“Your acting is on point, Savannah Lee May.”

“Ooh, full name, I’m so scared!” She laughed. “You look good in red, and I knew you would need a dress for New Years!”

“Ya know, if you want to switch to facetime, all you need to do is ask. And the answer is yes.” You rolled your eyes as she squealed, quickly switching to facetime.

“You look stunning!” She gasped. “I wish I could pull off a dress that good!” She whined a bit.

“Who are you talking to?” Owen hollered in the background.

“Y/N! She looks amazing in the dress, come see!”

“Hey Y/N,” Owen said, stepping into frame. He made a face at Savannah. “If she wears that, you have to deal with Charlie when he calls to ruin my New Years.”

“What does he mean?” You asked. Savannah muted herself and had a heated argument with Owen before answering you.

“When we were drunk one time, Charlie talked about his ex. Specifically, the dress she always wore. A red off the shoulder with,” You cut her off.

“With one leg slit. Well that is specific, and I am not the woman that he wants to see in it.”

“It goes further,” She said. “The only people that heard that conversation were Jer, Caroline, Owen and I. So he’ll know that I did this, and he will call Owen to let out his frustration. He’s a nice guy, in that he’ll only yell at men. Truly yell.”

“Wow. So you are sending me into a death trap?”

“Not exactly-“ Owen’s phone rang, cutting her off.

“It’s him! Get over here and answer the phone for me please, Sav!” Owen shouted.

“Who?”

“Anna must’ve told him. She found the dress in my stuff.” You told her and she sighed, hanging up.

Music played loudly, filling every corner of the house. And where the music was, there were people. Maybe 75 or so, but it was only 11:30, and you had a feeling that number would increase. You didn’t know what, or more specifically who you were looking for as you scanned the room you were in.

“Hey doll, have a drink!” A random man said, and as he walked by he passed a drink to you. A clear but faintly yellow liquid was in the cup. You didn’t want to know what it was.

“Bottoms up-“ You said, about to tip the cup back and down it before someone pulled it out of your hands.

“I may despise you, but I am not about to let you get roofied,” Charlie said, handing you a beer. “Don’t you know that you have to be holding something at one of these kinds of parties?”

“I didn’t realize it was gonna be one of these kinds of parties,” You muttered, taking a swig of the beer.

“It’s always been like this,” He said, watching all of the couples.

“How close are we to midnight?” You asked.

“Maybe 30 miniutes? I’m gonna go see how my family is.” He said, leaving you in your tiny corner.

“10,” The room continued to chant.

You searched the room for Charlie, or at least a familiar face. Couples surrounded you, preparing to kiss at midnight. And you, like a 5 year old, prepared to cover your eyes.

“9,” There was no sign of him, but there were a few men around the room with a similar haircut. You slowly ruled them out.

“8,” His hair was too short.

“7,” His was too dark.

“6,” He was too short.

“5, 4,” You started to give up, just as you saw a couple emerge from one of the back rooms. That couldn’t be him, could it?

“3!” But that was his voice.

“2!” And that was his jacket. Your face dropped as you prepared yourself. You knew what the incoming trainwreck was but you couldn’t look away.

“Happy New Year!” The couples shouted before pulling their lover close.

You watched as his lips met hers. You looked for a bit too long before tearing your eyes away and stalking to your room. But you couldn’t help but look back, and when you did, your eyes met his for a moment.

And the mood shifted.

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