#can SOMEONE get this pathetic little RAT a HUG?!? yes :) he hugs his friends :) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alfredosauce50 · 3 years

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Hi! I was wondering if you could do some Romano + Prussia x royal reader (separate) headcannons? I'm a sucker for a good forbidden romance and would be happy to see what you want to do with it. Thank you!

Yes, of course! Sorry for the kinda late response--I got carried away writing other things. What a coincidence that I've been doing a lot of exploring in fantasy! The reader is referred to as she/her.

Forbidden Romance Headcanons - Prussia and S. Italy

Prussia - The earnest pickpocket and sheltered princess

Unfortunately, Gilbert is on the wrong side of history. As an albino, he's been an outcast ever since he was born. In an age of superstition and class divide, his parents had no problem abandoning an extra mouth to feed. Especially when they were a demon with magical powers. Left to fend for himself as a baby, he only ever survived thanks to the generosity of an old neighbor. When they passed away due to old age, he had to get on by himself on the streets. Stealing, lying, whatever it takes to get some quick cash. And he's been doing it ever since he was five.

He loved fairytales ever since he was a kid. His guardian always told him these stories before bedtime, after all. They said it was good luck to give the princess a flower, and he remembered this a few years later during the royal parade in town. Pushing through the crowd of onlookers, he held out a small dandelion hoping you would take it. Before the guards could swat him away, you took the flower with a smile. All you remembered from that time was a small and dirty face gleaming up at you. And, of course, a pair of striking red eyes you would never forget.

In his adolescence, he became a thief with quick hands. It wasn't until he took on the most dangerous job of all did he make himself a public enemy. Stealing the royal family's jewels. And he would've gotten away with it if he wasn't forced to take a detour through the princess's bedroom. Unbeknownst to him, you were wide awake. Immediately, you recognized him as the little boy from that day. Without thinking, you hid him in your wardrobe until the guards left. That was the start of a strange friendship forged between two people from two worlds--a dirt-poor criminal and the well-loved princess of a thriving kingdom.

He visits you from time to time by climbing up the side of the castle. When he first did it, you practically throttled him by his collar, screaming, “Do you have a death wish? They'll throw you to the lions if you get caught!”. He simply responds with, “The awesome me never gets caught! That's why I'm here, ja?” Soon, this becomes routine until you learn to trust him.

Gilbert loves gloating about his adventures as a street rat, whether it's about singlehandedly beating up gangs of bullies or outrunning the palace guards. As a sheltered person of royalty, his stories reflect experiences alien to you. But it opens your eyes to things you've never seen, and it's very fascinating.

If he's not telling grossly exaggerated anecdotes of his greatness, he'll bring in board games and cards he “borrowed” from his friends. You've never played with them before as your parents deemed them unrefined. It fills him with pride to see you enjoying yourself so much, especially when he's teaching you how to play.

You don't go out very often, so he always brings back little trinkets and souvenirs. When you found out he stole them all, you would hit him on the head and tell him off. “Where did you get these from? Stealing and giving these to the princess--do you know how stupid that sounds?” Then, you would pinch his cheek until he tears up and admits his wrongs. “I-I thought you would like them, okay? I wanted to give them to you as a present...” The next day, you would accompany him to the shops he robbed and pay the owners back.

He gets upset and embarrassed when he realizes those gifts aren't gifts at all. Not when you paid for them yourself! One of the ways he shows affection is through giving gifts, but that unfortunately clashes with not having money. So he's eager to make something out of himself, even if he has to work as a bottom feeder and face unfair treatment for what he looks like. When you find out, his boss gets one hell of a time dealing with you. After that, he uses whatever small amount he earned to buy something for you.

As he grows out of his old habits, he becomes more honest. In fact, he's so determined to prove himself that he shows up one day with a homemade board game scribbled out on a spare piece of parchment. He's nervous and twiddling his fingers, and that's when you know you have to help him get back onto his feet. He's so touched by your kindness that he shows you a secret he's been hiding forever--he can do magic. It's one of his skills that let him become so good at stealing in the past.

After some practice to touch up his abilities, you try convincing your parents to let him work in the palace as an all-rounder. With the magic dancing in his fingertips, there's nothing he can't do. He has a green thumb, good reflexes, and the horses in the stables listen to him better than the caretaker! He can't forget that you encouraged him to let go of his doubts and previous identity as a petty thief. There's nobody in the world he looks up to more.

On the night of your eighteenth birthday, he's invited to a ball to celebrate. Once again, he finds himself anxious to see you in your dress, especially when he's quite glammed up himself with his suit and hair slicked back. While you teach him how to dance, he tells you he looks ridiculous. But you think otherwise and make it explicit. That's when Gilbert realizes he's completely smitten with you. He embarks on another journey to improve himself until he thinks he deserves you.

South Italy - The plebeian pâtissier and renegade royal

War has ravaged the kingdom and eaten into the state's reserves, leaving inflation rates at an all-time high. The suffering middle and working-class take it up to their rulers in a coup d'état, killing the king and queen. And now, they're searching for the princess amidst the chaos of an ungoverned dominion. Romano couldn't be more indifferent to such a cause, only ever caring about putting food on the table. He works day and night helping out his family's bakery, making what he can to get by. However, he's forced to take a side when he finds a girl on his doorstep on the verge of starvation.

Unable to turn away someone in need, he nurses you back to health. However, he does so with spite, wondering to himself why he has to give what little he has left to a princess. When you feel better after a few days, he's eager to send you off but changes his mind as you leave. Romano can't bear to let you face certain death, or worse, knowing how bitter the townspeople are about the unpopular war. So he welcomes you back with a sharp sigh with his head turned away. “Alright, alright, you can stay. Now stop making that pathetic face, you spoilt principessa--it's depressing.”

He relays a few house rules as conditions for keeping you around. You have to help him with chores. Cooking, cleaning, sewing, everything. Considering you always had someone doing those tasks for you, you're hopeless at it. He'll swat your hand and show you how to do things right with an annoyed scowl. “No, no, no, no, no! You're doing it all wrong. This is how you do it. What do they even teach you in that palace, huh? Books? Maths? Books about maths? Well, they won't keep you alive, you know!”

Because he's so observant and strict, he's a good teacher, and soon, you get the hang of everything. Before, he had to open his mouth to correct you every few seconds, but now, he can just watch you do his work with his arms crossed. It's a little demeaning to have someone watch your every move, but inside, he's relieved you're finally fitting in and not a complete waste of his time and resources. In reality, he never wanted to send you off and hoped he could just handle an extra mouth to feed. Not that he'll ever tell you.

When you're out and about, he makes you wear a cloak to hide your identity. When he's forced to interact with people, he'll hold you close and play everything off without arousing suspicion. Even if your hood falls off, he won't react--he's screaming inside in panic, but he's a great actor when he needs to be. You're totally not the princess, just a crazy similar doppelganger. The cloak is there so that people don't make a fuss. When they leave, he'll turn to you and scream how much of an idiot you are. But really, he was just worried to death--and you have a feeling he was. So you hug it out and leave him cussing with a red face.

As you two grow closer, his cousin Antonio notices how much he cares about you despite his efforts to hide it. It's a problem. He approaches him and warns that if people found out he was hiding the princess, he would get killed with her. Romano heats up and screams, telling him that he already knew what he got into the second he let you into his home. When he's asked why he's still keeping you around, he responds with, “It's not fair that her parents fucked up, and she has to face the consequences. Just like how I never wanted to run this stupid bakery--I wanted to be a painter, not burn my hands in the kitchen all day!”

Unbeknownst to him, you overhear the conversation. The next morning, he discovers that you're gone and loses his head. While he's screaming and crying, he's swarmed with the possibilities of what happened to you. He's a bit of an overthinker, but his paranoia is deserved--were you taken away in the middle of the night? Are you even still alive? He spirals down a path of self-loathing until he confronts how much he misses you, then his regret of never being frank with his feelings. Romano didn't understand what he had until he lost it. To say this was a wake-up call--to be more honest with himself--would be an understatement.

A week later, you return unscathed. Turns out, you left to stay with the owner of a paint shop owner your family always supported and bought from. You present him with a gift of some high-end oil paints, brushes, and canvases. When he sets them all down, he'll pull you into a tight hug, and once again, tell you how stupid you are. While he has you in his coils, you smile to yourself as you pat his hair, happy that you also got something in return. Some transparency. “I just thought I'd give you something... For all the trouble.” You'd say, and he'd shush you with a few hard kisses. “You were never a trouble. I wanted you to stay, so I'm more to blame than you.”

As the political situation of the country calms down, so do the anxieties of angry neighbors pounding on his door. You return to his home much to his content. Now that you're just as good as him at icing cakes, you spend more time running the bakery. This gives him some time to paint, and he can't be happier. Once you both get settled, he discovers another hobby on top of making art. Making coffee! The bakery evolves into a café lavishly decorated with his paintings, and it becomes the most popular establishment in town. You both realize how overrated it is to want to be anything more--you never bring up your title ever again.

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theodora3022 · 4 years

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Playing tricks with the trickster

Summary: Failed escape attempt from yandere Childe. He lets you play your cards, even playing along, just for his own amusement.

Notes: My first genshin piece yay... I had a sweet and terrible dream of me running from Childe in the woods. Also some inspiration was drawn from @cinnamonest‘s this post, one big virtual hug to her! I hope I did Childe justice, what can I say I love manipulative smiling boys. It has become a pattern as I dash from one fandom to another. This is had turned out to be longer then I expected...Ginger boy demands my time and energy too much omg. Mind the warnings, although there is nothing extreme in this.

Fun fact, I was looping to Nintendo game by Alessia Cara when writing this down. I believe it fits the theme of this fic quite well.

Tagging: @akutaguagua a great friend who patiently beta-read this mess of a horror dream and gave me lots of kind praises!

(Offical art belongs to miHoYo! This is a cover page of this video, if there is any issues, contact me and I will remove it at once)

Warnings: Implied past abduction,dub-con touching, mild degradation, drugging(not on reader), implied non-con/dub-con at the end, this is not healthy love and I do not condone this irl.

It has been nearly a month since the youngest Fatui Harbinger had “taken you in”. After a few tries, you were too horrified by the punishments to continuously fight him. You learned on the first day that Childe’s smiling, the friendly mask would come off towards you. Your behaviour would decide if that is a curse or a “blessing”.

So you had quieted down, struggling to restrain yourself from yelling or screaming, carefully not to provoke his anger. Despite being compliant to his orders, you never truly showed him any affection either. Sure, you would sit on his lap if he asked, but you never initiated anything intimate with him. No matter how much Tartaglia spoiled you with clothes, books, jewelry or other luxuries, he is still the one who holds the commanding end of your shackles. It’s the best not to get used to all of that when your sight is set on the door.

Although he has taken your freedom away, you are not kept in a windowless room. On the contrary, you have too many outings now. Wherever he goes, you have to be present in a 2m radius, including meetings. Being a Harbinger is no easy job, so he prefers not having to worry about your safetly during buisness hours. The best way to do that is never let you out of his sight.

“Love, no one should witness our little problems. Well, no one alive that is.” Of course you wouldn’t want to put innocent people's lives at stake. You never dared to act out when you two are in public, and no one would bat an eye if a Fatui had taken a lover.

You had taken an emotionless approach towards him. If Childe wants a kiss on the cheek, you’ll give him a quick light peck. If he wants breakfast, you’ll go make some pancakes with the topping he likes. Luckily, Childe had not done anything too extreme yet. If cuddling to sleep does not count as extreme that is. The only time you slipped up is when he suddenly hugs you from behind when you’re cooking.

You thought maybe, just maybe, by being as boring and dull as you could, this bastard might just get tired of you and let you go. Childe only loves the fun of it right? Or maybe it could lower his guard.

Oh, how naive you are. You should have known better than to underestimate a Fatui harbinger. See, this is exactly why he needs to keep you around. Yes, unfortunately for you, Childe loves you, so very much. Speaking to him with a monotone voice isn’t going to alter that fact.

You have been devoid of emotions as of late. While Childe does appreciate fewer screams for the sake of his eardrums, this schemer can sense you are up to something. Perhaps this is the peace before your “storm”(he thought of it more like a drizzle)

You want to play a game? Okay, why not? Childe cannot wait to see what tricks you got on those sleeves. Are you ever getting away? Does an amateur ever win when they play a game with a professional trickster? Never.

Still, nothing bites like a cornered rat. You are no airhead, and he is fully aware of that. Just not as cunning and observent as him, that’s all.

The way you just kept your emotions sealed up is impressive, even to someone like him. Even when he got hansy, you did not flinch and just stared at the corner. Childe can only catch faint glimpses of anger when you thought he wasn’t looking.

Hm, when are you pulling your trigger? Tonight, or tomorrow night? Not that Childe is impatient, anything from you is worth waiting. But he would need to dismiss his patrolling underlings in the nearby woods beforehand. No extras would be allowed to disturb this game.

There is no chance during the day, a somewhat mutual understanding for you two. Night time in comparison, is a different story.

Anyone’s sleeping hours is their most vulnerable time of the day, Childe is no exception. You do not plan to harm him, not that you don’t want to. But you are willing to swallow the pent up frustration towards him if you would never see his face again after this. Maybe beating up some slimes would help with the release?

You somehow managed to slip a mixture of herbs into his tea. Since he would buy cooking ingredients for you from time to time, you had requested a bunch of herbs along with the ingredients of a sleep inducing medicine you remembered. Although Childe does all he can to keep you near him, there are inevitable hours that he needs to be somewhere without you. He cannot jeopardize your safety with troublesome monsters. On a side note, he loves showing you off to anyone, his colleagues, acquaintances, business partners, anyone he does not deem a threat.

Enough time for you to make those herbs into powder and cover it up with a few spoons of milk. Tea with milk has become quite popular in Liyue as of late. Childe has grown to love them, so you have learned how to mix it up. He always let you handle his food and drinks, saying that he “trusts you”. What you do not know is this is one of the openings he exposed on purpose. It’s not like you can aquire anything deadly under his suffocating supervision.

Your plan will work, or so you think. Childe will not wake up when you wiggle out of his grasp, because dreamland will keep him occupied. All you need is a glider and a usable sword from Liyue and you’ll get your life back. Bottling up extreme emotions has certainly taken a toll on your mind, but it will be worth it if that is the prerequisite of being free.

Something about this being so easy sits ill with you. Have you really been with the youngest Fatui Harbinger this whole time? But that was brushed off your shoulders by the sheer excitement of regaining your long lost freedom. You know Liyue is in walking distance, all you need to do is cross these woods and-

The moment you dive into the forest, you think you heard an amused chuckle.

That smooth voice terrifies you to no end, the same voice you took orders from for the past month.

Oh, how Childe loves seeing you happy. It’s priceless, both literally and figuratively. No matter how many things he buys you, you had not shown him even one small smile. Enjoy your sweet freedom, because it ain’t going to last. You certainly will know your place after this right? If not you are just dumber then he give you credit for.

That glow of relief in your eyes is worth every last bit of this intense dizzying feeling to Childe. To make sure your plan go through, he had drunk the tea without hesitation, quick enough to catch the momentarily excitement you expressed. He knows the game is on, therefore he had given the night patrol guards the entire evening off. Forcing himself to stay concious by digging his nails into his palms, Childe followed you into the woods.

Your potion is quite strong. Excellent, you’ll have to give him the recipe for informational purposes later. Especially how you managed to achieve such effects with a few herbs you had. He never took you to be anything less than a smart girl, but this has exceeded his expectations. Where’s the fun in a game without challenges?

How you storm through the forest wearing that cute terrified expression looks so endearing, it’s surely not his fault if he wants to enjoy this sight to be longer right.

So, each time you feel the slightest at ease due to whatever reason, expect Childe to make some sound to send you running like your life depends on it again. The sadistic man is hunting you down playfully, like a cat chasing a stray mouse to the inevitable corner.

You know he is toying with you. There is nothing you can do to make him shut up though.

“Love, you had scratched your leg. Must hurts by the looks of it.”

“Liyue is that way, you know.”

“Are you tired? If you want to jog in the middle of the night, you should have called me to come along!”

How can he say those things nonchalantly while you are trying to escape from him? Here he is, daunting you with that signature smile he wears so very often. That is when reality slaps you right in the face. No matter how hard you plan, no matter how fast you run, there is no getting rid of him.

When your stamina runs out, a simple pull and push on your left wrist is enough to let you fall onto the ground panting. Even now, you still refuse to beg for mercy. You would take the cold grounds to the warmth of Childe’s embrace anyday.

“Aw, burnt out already? Pathetic. Looks like we need to work on your stamina more. But this is not the place for exercise.”

“Look at me.” His slender but forceful fingers tilt your head up, making you look into those ocean blue orbs. There is anger present in his eyes, but those emotions are more a mixture of delight and that. His smile had also been replaced by a mocking smirk. “You, trying to leave me? Your sense of humor is...well, let’s just call it unique. Lucky for you, you amused me nonetheless.”

“I know what you’re thinking. How I’m a selfish jerk and you hate me. Why be so ungrateful? You get to live in luxury thanks to me, you know. I am selfish, yes, but look how stupid you are. I know you added something extra in my evening tea, my beloved.”

“Come now, we are going to do some exercises suited for a night like this once we’re back home. It is our one month milestone, after all. You had already given me your gift, it is only fair for you that I do the same.”

Childe is not making a sarcastic remark. The thrill of that chase was the best fun he had in months. And you are going to love his gift too, maybe not right away, but surely sometimes after.

You have to mentally prepare yourself for the worst as he dragged you back to the prison, hopefully you’ll still be able to walk properly after whatever Childe got in store.

#yandere #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere childe x reader #yandere childe #yandere tartaglia #this is a dream fleshed out into a fic #i am not sorry

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tennessoui · 3 years

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FeralObi anon here. How do you come up with these so fast?? Are you an infinite number of ideas and worlds in human-shaped form? I love both of those ideas. The first one kills me tho, Obi gets his first kind touch in years from lil Anakin. Also you can have lil Anakin coming home one day with a skulking, snarling nonverbal murder puppy and saying brightly, "He followed me home, can I keep him?" Schmi thinks this is definitely worse than the time he brought a krayt dragon home.

ah! hello! yes this is the first idea of a feral obi-wan who meets anakin when he's still on tatooine. i will also still do the second idea because like. i liked them equally as much rip me

but i told myself these were going to both be very short snippets and instead this one is uh 2k so i'll post the second one tomorrow instead of tonight!

(ficlet where obi-wan is captured by pirates/unspecified forces at a young age and then tortured for a decade before he escapes to tatooine when anakin is like 6. obi-wan, after a decade of torture is....not alright in this fic though he's only here at the end) (2k)

Shmi had known that when she sent her little Anakin away to follow after the stern-faced, warm-eyed Jedi Master, that this would not be the last time she ever saw her boy. She couldn’t explain how she knew, just as she had not been able to explain how she became pregnant, but she knew beyond a doubt that one day, she would see her little boy back in her arms.

She just hadn’t known it would be so soon.

“He died, Master Jinn died,” Anakin mumbles into the front of her dress, unwilling to move his head far back enough from her hug that he could talk clearly. “On Naboo. And the stupid Jedi council refused to train me even after I was so amazing in the air. Mom, I destroyed a blockade! Entirely! And they wouldn’t--they didn’t--” his little face scrunches up and then he’s bawling into his hands.

A slave, a born slave, knows intrinsically the injustice of the galaxy. It is not often they know hope.

“Oh my boy,” she whispers, smoothing a hand over the top of his head. She has questions. She has so many questions about everything he’s just said and what those strangers have put her son through, but the most important thing is a question she cannot wait until he has cried himself out to ask. “Is your chip gone, Ani? Did they remove your transmitter?”

Because she had sent him away from her so that he could be free. And that had been her own twisted version of hope, that her son could know a life she never would again. If the Jedi masters had proven to be just like every other master in the world, she would find herself sobbing into her own hands.

“Yeah,” Anakin sniffles and wipes at his ruddy cheeks, pulling back a few steps. “They removed it and everything. And--”

He pauses and drops his satchel to the ground in front of her. “They gave me credits. To buy you. For my trouble.”

He spits out the last three words like they’re the most disgusting thing in the entire world. As if Shmi’s freedom isn’t laying at their feet, mere centimeters away.

“Republic credits are no good here,” she hears herself say faintly.

“Padme, the handmaiden you met, she talked to the queen about me I guess,” Anakin mumbles, kicking his feet. “And when the queen learned that the Jedi didn’t want me even after all that, Padme says the queen says I’ll always have a place on Naboo. Me and my family. And then she took the Jedi credits and gave me these instead. It should be enough, Mom.”

Shmi sits down on the floor. With shaking hands, she opens the bag and looks inside. Yes. Yes.

There’s more than enough.

There’s enough to buy her freedom and take her boy away from Mos Espa. There’s enough to take her boy away from Tatooine completely.

“I…” she says. “Ani, I…”

“Padme said she’d send a ship for us,” Ani reports as if their lives are not changing right in front of their eyes. “In two days ‘cause I told her it might take a little bit of time to get Ben to come with us. But we can’t leave without him.”

This is said fiercely and with his arms crossed tightly over his little chest.

Shmi stares at him.

“I’ve already left him once!” Anakin says, stomping his foot. “But that was okay, because I knew you would bring him food and water and stuff. But if we’re both gone, no one’s going to be there for him.”

Shmi bites at her lip. There’s a lot of things happening very quickly right now, and she doesn’t know how to process half of them.

Her son has come back, after only being gone for a week and a half.

He has apparently either endeared himself so much to the queen of Naboo that she was willing to give him the money necessary to buy his mother from slavery and also promise him sanctuary on her planet. He says he’s done this by single-handedly ending a blockade, which is something she just cannot even think about right now.

He has told this queen--queen--that he will gladly live on Naboo with his family. Yes. Alright.

His family seems to include his imaginary friend, Ben.

Anakin has been talking about Ben for years now, ever since he was six and a half years old and sent by Watto to retrieve any scraps he could from what looked to be a crashed pod in the Wastelands. She’d let him ramble on about the ghost of a friend, because she’d known it to be something all children go through and experience. She hadn’t thought Anakin a lonely child, not with the friends he made in Mos Espa, but she’d always known that Anakin had a wandering spirit, ill-suited for Tatooine. If he liked to imagine an older man from a strange world hiding in the caves of the Wastes, then she wasn’t going to say anything.

“You have been leaving him food, haven’t you, Mom?” Anakin asks, almost accusatory. “I told him to expect you and everything.”

No. Shmi has not been traveling to the edge of the Wastelands every day during her precious few hours of free time in order to leave food to be picked apart by womp rats and desert critters and not her boy’s imaginary friend.

“Ani,” she says cautiously, quietly, “we cannot...we won’t be able to bring Ben with us when we go.”

Anakin, predictably, does not react well. “Why not!” he yells, backing away from her even further and looking as if she is the enemy. “Padme’s fine with it!”

“Aren’t you a little old for imaginary friends?” Shmi asks desperately, feeling cold suddenly even though the heat of the mid-morning sun has not abated at all.

If anything, her son looks more offended. “He’s not imaginary! Saying...saying that he’s not coming with us...is...is a bunch of poodoo!”

“Anakin!” Shmi gasps.

“Come on,” her boy says forcefully, grabbing at her hand and tugging her towards the door. She gets on her feet reluctantly and has half a mind to pull back just because he needs to learn that this sort of behavior is not okay, war hero or not. “We’re going to buy you from Watto. And then we’re going to go visit Ben!”

---

Buying her freedom takes less time than Shmi Skywalker ever thought it would. It feels distant as well, as if it’s happening to someone else.

It doesn’t help that her Ani is impatient and surly by turn, spilling the coin out onto Watto’s counter and barely waiting for him to finish counting it before he’s looking at the price of renting a four-person speeder parked outside.

“You won’t survive out there on your own,” Watto sneers, even as he’s passing her the kill-switch of her own slave chip. “Days. It’ll be days until the Hutts find out there’s a newly freed slave with no connections out there in the open. Ripe for the pickin’.”

Watto doesn’t have to tell her any of this. She knows. Gods, does she know.

But Anakin seems so sure about possessing the favor of the Queen of Naboo, or at least her handmaiden, which might be close enough to the same thing. She thanks Watto--she thanks him and then doesn’t even know why--and meets Anakin outside.

He’s bouncing around the speeder, little hands clutching his satchel to his chest. “Good!” he says when he sees her, hopping onto the machine and putting the parcel between his feet. “I got Ben something called a fig on Naboo, but I don’t know how long it’ll take for it to go bad. Apparently they’re sweet.”

Shmi goes along with it. Shmi doesn’t know why she goes along with it, but she does. She can see this is important to her boy, and though she’d rather spend the afternoon and early evening saying goodbye to her friends, she will allow Ani to say goodbye to his imaginary friend. Maybe she’ll even talk to it. “Hi, hello, I’m so glad you’ve enjoyed the imaginary blue milk and delicacies I’ve left out for you this past week and half. Oh no, it was no bother. My son insisted.”

The ride is quick--Anakin has always been a driver to push the limits of any engine he comes across--and before she knows it, he’s dismounting on a piece of desert and rock that look exactly the same as the last four pieces of rocky terrain they’ve past.

“Ben!” Ani calls, satchel clutched firmly in his hands as he makes his way deeper into the crevices of the landscape. “Ben, it’s Ani! I’m really sorry that I left! Ben? Ben! I’m back now! Ani’s back!”

It’s actually...quite pathetic, to watch her boy speak so pleadingly to the cold stone faces of the rocks around them, but if this is what he needs to do to say goodbye to his life on Tatooine, Shmi won’t say a word.

“Ben--” Anakin draws in a breath to call again, but then there’s movement out of the corner of Shmi’s eyes, and something jumps from the rock down to land on her boy.

She screams and darts forward, but the thing on top of her son snarls at her in guttural warning.

“No, Ben,” Ani coos, stroking at the face that yes, is human, now that it’s not in unnaturally fast motion. “That’s my mom, Ben.”

Ben--Ben??--growls anyway, pinning the boy--her boy--beneath him with his legs and arms.

“She’s fine,” Ani murmurs gently, one hand reaching up to stoke over the beginnings of a beard on Obi-Wan’s face “Oh Ben, I’m sorry.”

The man on top of Shmi’s child finally looks away from her and at her boy, which is both better and worse.

“Ani,” Ben drawls out, as if the word--or perhaps forming the word--hurts him.

Anakin is happy. Shmi can tell he’s happy without even being able to see much of him. It’s like the very air vibrates with his joy. “Yes!” her son says. “Ani. Ben.” He taps the man’s chest. “Ben. Ani.”

The man buries his head into Anakin’s hair, hands rubbing up and down his sides and his arms and his face.

Shmi needs to say something, wants to say something about this strange man touching boy like he owns him, but the memory of his growl and the flash of his golden eyes stops her from stepping forward.

“Anakin, get away from him,” she hisses instead of stepping forward and tearing the stranger off of her son. She has the distinct feeling Anakin wouldn’t let Ben go anywhere, not with the way his little hands are holding so tight to the man’s shoulders. The man’s shoulders that are covered with one of her old tunics that Anakin had told her became unsalvageable after its last wash.

“No,” Anakin says, tightening his hold on his...friend. “He says you didn’t give him food the entire time I was gone! He’s hungry.”

Shmi thinks there’s a very good possibility that this Ben is going to eat her, but she knows not to say anything of the sort. Not when it’s two against one.

“He hasn’t said anything!” She cries instead.

Anakin huffs at this and pats at the feral’s head. “Maybe not to you, but he talks to me.”

Shmi stares at him and wonders if there’s something she’s supposed to be doing or saying here. The man won’t allow her to tear him off her child, she knows that automatically. But she can’t--she doesn’t know--

“Anakin,” she tries, desperately.

But Anakin doesn’t even look at her, too busy petting over the man, who has at least allowed him to sit up. “Hey, I’m sorry, I thought she would,” he tells him in an undertone. “I really thought she would, but I’m back now. I’m not going anywhere without you again--”

He extends his hand and Ben presses his cheek against it with enough force that it pushes him back slightly.

“You’re coming to Naboo with us, Ben,” Anakin promises, clutching at the ends of the man’s long hair. “Or I’m not going at all.”

To Shmi, it sounds like a threat.

The way her son’s eyes flash an unfamiliar golden color makes her feel cold as a Tatooine night. She shivers, but no one notices.

#asks #feral!obi-wan #cw: torture aftermath #its really quite vague tbh #i wanted to use shmi as a narrator because i never really have before #but that means nothing but shmi's perspective gets shared #i mean obviously #but its defo outside perspective here #but this was fun #im not gonna tag it as obikin because anakin here is nine #but yeah i see them living on naboo and healing together from their traumas #and being the most important person to each other #and eventually when anakin is like 25 maybe even older #they kiss #but that's the story i didnt write lmao

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themurphyzone · 3 years

Text

PatB Oneshot: Poor Unfortunate Soul

Summary: Brain doesn’t think Pinky would be a very good villain. Pinky decides to prove him wrong (but mostly he wants Denny's).

AN: I’ll be honest, Dark Pinky isn’t for me. So how to compromise writing a villainous Pinky with normal Pinky? Well...you’ll see.

AO3 Link

Pinky gasped at the TV, crumbs of popcorn falling out of his mouth. Brain stopped chewing and looked away from the screen, unable to stomach the scene of Lupin and Sirius forcing Pettigrew out of rat form as he attempted to flee the Shrieking Shack.

No matter how many times he’d seen Prisoner of Azkaban, Brain always found it uncomfortable to watch Pettigrew transform into a pathetic, sniveling human who acted like he hadn’t sold his own friends out to a homicidal madman.

Sure, Voldemort was the villain while Umbridge was the personification of government corruption, but there was just something downright insidious about Pettigrew.

Pinky’s eyes were blown wide open as Pettigrew pitifully tried to plead his case. The simpleton was always so surprised about this plot twist no matter how many times he’d seen this movie.

The more he pondered, perhaps Pinky was the exact reason he found Pettigrew worse than the larger threats of the Harry Potter world. The man played into the worst of rodent stereotypes with his cowardly and backstabbing nature.

But Pinky?

Not a single disloyal bone in his body. It was a lesson Brain had taken to heart after his disastrous second birthday. Pinky was far too sweet and simple to even think about betrayal.

Tears flowed down Pinky’s face as Lupin transformed into an emaciated werewolf, so Brain discreetly nudged a pack of Kleenexes his way. Pinky flashed him a grateful, wobbly smile, then reached for a tissue and blew his nose.

Pinky always cried at this part. And while Brain found the scene emotionally gut-punching too, he considered himself above displays of crying during movies.

Mufasa’s death didn’t count. Dirt always lodged in his lacrimal ducts whenever he watched that scene. That was all.

Brain’s fists clenched as the cowardly Pettigrew abandoned everyone to die.

Though his escape was an essential plot point for the rest of the series, Brain wished the protagonists could’ve caught Pettigrew and delivered justice for betraying those who called him a friend.

He knew how the movie played out, but Pinky acted like he was watching it all for the very first time. Sometimes, watching Pinky when he didn’t care what happened on-screen was much more interesting. Especially when Pinky insisted on not skipping Order of the Phoenix.

Pinky hugged his knees, tail draped tightly around him as the Dementors attacked Harry and Sirius. The rest of the movie would be loaded with those undead abominations. Brain had learned from unfortunate experience that Pinky would have nightmares if he didn’t cut off the fear before it took root in his subconscious.

Slowly, Brain moved towards Pinky, careful not to make a sound lest Pinky catch him in the act. He took a deep breath to steel his resolve, placing a hesitant hand on Pinky’s back.

Pinky turned to look at him.

“Eyes on the screen,” Brain commanded. It was easier to do this when Pinky wasn’t watching him.

Pinky obeyed, humming softly as Brain patted soft fur. A long, flowing tail wrapped around a crooked one. Pinky sat up a little straighter.

The Dementors wouldn’t haunt Pinky’s dreams tonight. Not as long as Brain had something to say about it.

o-o-o-o-o

“-and I’m so happy Sirius and Buckbeak got away! D’you think I could ride a hippogriff? Why are they called hippos when they’re not hippos anyway? I don’t think wizards know their animals very well, Brain.” Pinky’s chatter continued into the ungodly hours of the morning. Only the people unfortunate enough to work early morning shifts on Saturday would be awake at this time.

Brain rolled onto his stomach, covering his ears with his pillow to block out all the extraneous noise. One con about taking nights off from world domination was that his body just didn’t want to sleep even when he was tired, and Pinky’s exuberance only amplified the issue.

“Troz! Prisoner of Azkaban is my favorite out of the Harry Potter movies. But my favorites are also Sorcerer’s Stone and Chamber and Goblet...oh! And Order has Luna Lovegood of course! Love her! What’s your favorite, Brain?” Pinky asked. “Ooh, you shouldn’t lay like that. You need to breathe!”

The pillow was completely ineffective as a sound buffer. Brain was sorely tempted to keep up his current position out of pure spite, but he had to give up and lay on his side so he wouldn’t suffocate.

“No favorite. Hippogriffs are fictional. Hippo is Greek for horse and does not refer to a hippopotamus in this context. You think cows cluck and chickens moo, Pinky. Now go to sleep,” Brain sighed, squeezing his eyes shut.

Perhaps he could trick his exhausted mind into believing Pinky wasn’t there if he couldn’t be seen.

He had an urge to stay awake though. If his subconscious latched onto hippopotamuses, he’d just have that nightmare with the rich hippo couple and Rockefeller baby all over again. He shuddered at that memory. The pain and humiliation from that hippo-sized booster shot had been oddly vivid.

“Okay. G’night, Brain.” The bed shifted as Pinky flopped onto his back.

All was quiet.

Brain curled into a more comfortable position, ready to drift off to a dream world where he was an emperor on a golden throne, Pinky was dressed in royal finery while leading a resounding chorus of We are the World, and all knelt before their authority.

“Brain?”

And there went the dream.

“What?” Brain snapped. Part of him wanted to knock Pinky out himself, but that would require moving his arms. He didn’t want to move out of his current position.

“Just pondering. Poit,” Pinky yawned. “Before sleep ponderings. Those kinds are the best, Brain. Cause they get weird and tangerine-y. Bet you get those too.”

It was true. When his plans weren’t derived from Pinky’s inane ramblings or current events, they were often the product of pre-sleep thoughts. While he wrote down all he could remember afterwards, the plans pulled from those tangents tended to be the craziest and illogical in hindsight.

He tried not to rely on them too much, but if his conqueror’s block was high or creativity levels were low, he didn’t have much choice.

“Yes,” Brain confirmed.

But his curt answer wasn’t enough to deter Pinky.

“Cause I was pondering about villains,” Pinky said. “Like Pettigrew. Cause what if I had something that makes me a villain?”

As much as Brain wanted to dismiss the idea of a villainous Pinky due to the sheer absurdity of the concept, he supposed it wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility either.

But Pinky as a villain? A mouse who gave up his soul for the sake of Brain’s desires and argued against promoting harmful cigarettes to children?

It was just ludicrous.

“Pinky, you lack many prerequisites for proper villainy,” Brain said. “Except for the dramatics. That’s the only trait you have in common.”

“Oh. Well, I could certainly try,” Pinky replied.

Yes, and someday pigs would evolve and develop flight capabilities.

If he were in a clearer state of mind, he would’ve argued out of obstinance. But right now, it was incredibly early on a Saturday morning and he wanted nothing more than to sleep. Discussions on villainy and world domination could wait a few hours.

“If you can prove me wrong, you can select the next restaurant we’ll go to,” Brain yawned.

Pinky rarely got to choose the restaurant, given Brain’s sophisticated palate, but at this point he was willing to try anything to get Pinky off his back.

Then Pinky went from figuratively being on his back to pressing against it, his tail curling around Brain’s. Pinky’s jaw rested against the back of Brain’s head. The added pressure released a tenseness around Brain’s shoulders, one that he’d been previously unaware of.

“Denny’s,” Pinky murmured, nuzzling the back of Brain’s ear. The sensitive appendage flicked. Nobody was around to witness that involuntary reflex, so Brain let it pass. “A Grand Slam with pancakes and syrup and bacon n’ eggs…”

Within seconds, Pinky was out like a light. He wouldn’t remember this conversation, too busy thinking with his stomach instead of properly pondering with that fluffball of a mind.

With Pinky’s warm fur against his back and soft narfs against his ear, Brain’s thoughts gently trickled away and yielded to peaceful sleep.

o-o-o-o-o

Though it was probably noon by now, Brain still didn’t want to open his eyes. Why bother? No scientists to pester them, no leftover plans or materials to hide away so they wouldn’t be discovered, no tedious mazes to run on Saturday.

Pinky had gotten up sometime before him, and the space beside him was empty, giving Brain room to stretch out in whatever way he liked.

Then he heard a harsh scraping noise, like someone was dragging something heavy across the counter. That wasn’t unusual for Pinky if an object caught his short attention span for some inane reason.

However, there was also the sound of laughter accompanying the noise. Pinky was giggly and bubbly to a fault, but this brand of laughter was different.

Almost malevolent.

A chill ran up his spine, but Brain ignored the feeling. Pinky’s evil laugh was still firmly in Saturday morning cartoon villain territory, he told himself.

Even if he sounded a little too good at being evil.

Apparently, Pinky had remembered the bet after all.

Brain slowly opened his eyes, about to find Pinky and tell him to knock it off, only to find that it was much darker than it should be for daytime. But it wasn’t dark enough to impede his vision. When he looked up, he found a sheet had been pulled over the entire cage. He couldn’t see anything outside the cage.

Pinky being secretive would surely spell disaster. And it hadn’t been there last night, so Pinky was the only culprit.

The wheel stood empty, a fresh oil can beside it. Brain rubbed his eyes, partly to wake himself up and partly out of disbelief. He was normally a light sleeper, but if he hadn’t heard Pinky maintain his wheel at all, then he must’ve had a deeper sleep than he thought.

He climbed out of bed and marched towards the unlatched cage door, though the corner of the sheet was pulled over it. He would’ve swept it aside, but an unopened cup of Rice Krispies with a half-empty bottle of milk, napkin, and spoon conspicuously placed next to the door gave him pause from leaving the cage.

His stomach growled.

“Well played, Pinky,” Brain admitted. A breakfast barricade to delay him? It was rather creative, not that he’d ever let Pinky know.

The Rice Krispies made satisfactory snap, crackle, and pop noises as Brain poured the milk inside. Then he scarfed down the cereal, half-expecting Pinky to come in and drag him outside for whatever he planned.

But Pinky seemed content to let him eat first.

Once he finished eating, he dragged the empty cereal cup and milk bottle behind him. But even his simple two-step plan of throwing his current load into the garbage and finding Pinky were laid to waste the moment he set foot outside the cage.

For Pinky had unleashed his inner interior designer and completely transformed the room in such a short timeframe.

Large, sweeping blackout curtains covered the windows, even the skylight. According to the digital clock atop the TV, it was 12:30 in the afternoon. But if Brain didn’t know any better, he would’ve believed it was midnight.

No wonder he’d been so inclined to sleep in.

Long strands of Christmas lights hung on each dark blue wall, which was otherwise untransformed. Other than the digital clock, they were the only available light source. But rather than their usual festive association, the unblinking reds, greens, and blues lent a rather ominous, otherworldly quality to the room.

Brain dispelled the fear. It was irrational when he’d traversed the dark lab at night a million times before.

Perhaps he was focusing too hard on dumping the leftover milk into the sink. With absolute concentration, he pushed the empty cup and bottle over the counter’s edge and into the garbage can below.

As he backed away from the edge, he saw a large mixing bowl with a stepladder set by it. Wisps of steam rose from the inside of the bowl. This must’ve been the source of the scraping sound he’d heard earlier. Curious, Brain climbed the stepladder and peered inside.

It was just warm water though.

He tried not to feel too disappointed. But even if it was mundane right now, surely it had to be here for a reason, right?

Or Pinky didn’t have any reason at all and he just wanted to fill a mixing bowl with boiled water. Both options were possibilities.

As he continued his search for Pinky, he walked past rows upon rows of test tubes filled with brightly colored substances. Electric green, dreadful purple, deceptively calm cerulean…

He wasn’t sure what kind of chemistry experiments they were running, but he wished someone had enough sense to label the test tubes.

Beakers and tubing distorted his reflection, a prickling sensation traveling down his spine and forcing his fur to stand on end. He smoothed it down so he didn’t bear a passing resemblance to a cotton ball. The slightly colder than normal temperature wasn’t helping.

The distortion was simply a natural refraction of light passing through liquids. That’s all. There was no reason to get worked up over natural phenomena.

That didn’t stop him from leaping back when a wide, smiling human face suddenly appeared as he navigated a sea of flasks.

His heart threatened to leap out of his chest, his breaths growing heavier.

There weren’t any humans in the lab right now, he reminded himself. And the smiling face was frozen and unmoving. It wasn’t real.

Brain cautiously poked his head around the flask, keeping it as a buffer between himself and the unknown threat.

Against the wall, several of Pinky’s Barbie and Ken dolls sat in a row. The one whose face appeared on the flask was on the far left, her blonde hair in a ponytail. All of the dolls were in colorful swimwear. One of the Ken dolls had a pair of sunglasses perched on his head.

The dolls were normal. No creepy alterations or missing body parts.

But as Brain approached and inspected the dolls closely, their positioning seemed...odd.

Yes, their plastic visages displayed smiles as if they were en route to a Miami beach party, but their arms were stretched above their heads or out to the sides in warning. Their legs laid flat against the ground. Duct tape trapped their legs to the ground and wrapped against their torsos, sticking them firmly to the wall and preventing them from falling over.

An interesting choice for decor, to say the least.

But enough was enough. Time to find Pinky and force a coherent explanation out of him.

One of the Barbie's arm pointed to the back of the room, so Brain followed her instruction. It led him straight to Pinky’s dollhouse, and Brain cursed himself for being so taken in with the environment that he’d neglected to check one of Pinky’s favorite toys.

The pink plastic door was wide open, a deadly invitation into danger. Brain’s ears pricked as a song floated through the air.

“Things are working out according to my ultimate design,

Soon I’ll have that little rodent and the planet shall be mine!”

The melody was accompanied by a sinister cackle.

Brain wanted to barge in and demand Pinky to cease his foolishness immediately, but his fingers curled against the doorframe instead, urging him to heed caution.

“I can hear you!” Pinky singsonged from behind a section of dollhouse that was curtained off with jingling Mardi Gras beads. “Won’t you come inside so we can talk properly?”

Brain rolled his eyes, sweeping the bead curtain away. “Pinky, I’m aware of our deal, but this is rather excess-”

Then his mind registered the scene that lay before him.

Pinky perched on a stool in front of a mirror as he applied a red coating of lipstick. That wasn’t unusual for him.

But he was also clad in a backless floor-length dress with thigh-high slits. The dress was dark as night, leaving his shoulders and arms exposed. His fur was dyed a light lavender, save for his messy white tuft, which was gelled so that it stood straight up.

A small seashell necklace sat just above the low cut dress, purple earrings hanging from each ear. Pinky didn’t turn around, blinking coyly at Brain in his reflection, which sported heavy blue eyeshadow.

He set the lipstick down, and Brain stared at the enchanting movement of manicured, polished red nails as deft fingers picked up a small brush and dipped it into a makeup kit. Then Pinky applied a beauty mark next to his lips.

The next thing out of Brain’s mouth was a very intelligent ‘um’.

“You shouldn’t lurk in doorways,” Pinky purred, his voice low and sultry. “It’s very rude. Didn’t your mother teach you manners?”

She didn’t have time to teach him a lot of things, given his kidnapping at an early age, but that wasn’t the point.

“Why in Ptolemy’s name are you Ursula out of all villains?” Brain asked, once his voice came back.

At least it explained why Pinky had redecorated the room to resemble an underwater cavern that doubled as a villainous lair. It was an excellent use of space.

And the Barbies and Kens...those were the stand-ins for the helpless sea polyps.

Pinky must’ve been deriving a lot of satisfaction at seeing that realization dawn on Brain.

“Why not?” Pinky shrugged. He puckered his lips and kissed his reflection, leaving a red lip-shaped mark behind. “Besides...isn’t there something you’re after? Something you want oh so very much, but haven’t been able to get?”

Brain scowled. “You know perfectly well that I’m trying to rule the world, Pinky.”

Pinky snapped his fingers. “And that’s what I can help you with! The only way to get what you want...is to become a human yourself.”

Well, he’d never considered that before in the pursuit of world domination. There was something about manipulating his genetic code and changing his species that didn’t sit well with him, even though he detested the challenges that came with being a lowly lab mouse.

But it made sense.

Humans only respected humans. Becoming a member of the dominant species would be an asset for sure!

But Pinky didn’t have the means to make that happen...right?

“You don’t know how to manipulate mouse DNA into a human one,” Brain said.

“Oh my dear, sweet Brain,” Pinky crooned as he stood up, slinking over to Brain. Brain crossed his arms, forcing himself to stare Pinky straight in the eye and not show any signs of yielding. He made a point out of not watching those sashaying hips and tail. “Helping poor, unfortunate mice like yourself is my one passion in life! Why, without it, I’ll have to slink away and become a crazy cat lady! And then who will those poor souls turn to?”

“A glass of alcohol, I presume,” Brain replied.

Pinky’s tail came to rest around Brain’s shoulders. The tip tickled Brain’s nose, and he held it away from his face as Pinky pulled him out of the dollhouse and back to the tied up Barbie and Ken dolls. “Maybe, maybe...but a real person they can lean on, I mean. One that knows a little...magic.”

He flicked his finger at a beaker filled with a lavender substance. The beaker sailed through the air, dumping its contents into the mixing bowl. A purple haze rose from the bowl.

“That’s telepathy, not-”

Pinky gently pressed a finger to Brain’s mouth to hush him. “Oh, ye of little faith,” he scolded. “It’s true that I did some rather — how would you phrase this gently — unsavory things before. But I’ve repented! Turned over a new leaf! Seen the light! And now I use my talents for those lonely and miserable enough to seek my services.”

Then Pinky moved away from Brain, flicking his tail against Brain’s nose to direct his attention to the wall. Pinky wrapped his arm around the Barbie with a red polka-dotted bikini. “You see, Barbie here grew up where she didn’t have much opportunity. Poor girl had to work two jobs to make ends meet, and hardly a cent to show for it! So I offered her a chance to get away from it all...and she took it.”

Brain gulped as Pinky moved onto the Ken doll next to Barbie. He was awfully convincing, even when the subject in question was inanimate. Pinky played with the ascot around Ken’s neck. “And this young man? Well, he wasn’t having much luck with the ladies. So I gave him a few pointers, maybe a knickknack or two to help speed things along. However…”

Pinky indicated the tape that bound the dolls to the wall. “I wouldn’t worry about this too much, since you’re a mouse of your word, but sometimes...they couldn’t pay me back in time. So I found a different way to collect their debt.”

“Yes, I’m sure you have much to gain from restraining children’s toys,” Brain said, tilting his head up to hide his uneasiness.

They looked less marketable and more like hapless victims wallowing in despair, despite their smiling faces. He chalked it up to the wall’s resemblance to a dimly lit marine cave.

“Oh, I get some odd complaints every now and then,” Pinky shrugged. “But alas, that’s what happens in this business.”

He plucked a purple sash from Barbie and wrapped it around his head, fluttering his eyelashes innocently.

Not that he was fooling Brain.

But he didn’t have time to process that nonverbal gesture, for Pinky threw the sash around Brain, his tail looping around Brain’s waist. With the sash locking his arms against his sides, he was helplessly corralled to the mixing bowl. He dug his feet into the surface beneath him, but it was no use. Pinky was far stronger than he.

In physical terms of course. He tried to keep his eyes on Pinky’s face and not his...well, he was a male mouse...he didn’t have...unless he padded...

Stop, Brain.

A finger slipped under Brain’s chin, tilting his head up. “Not to worry,” Pinky purred, and the room suddenly went from cold to sweltering. “I have your solution right here.”

To emphasize his point, blue and green test tubes poured their contents into the bowl. The colors melded together, the resulting haze forming a rough image of the world.

“Here’s the deal. I’ll make a potion that can turn you into a human for three days,” Pinky declared, dragging his finger along Brain’s chin. Now that Pinky’s grip had loosened, Brain ripped the sash out of Pinky’s hands and threw it aside.

The stroke of Pinky’s finger along Brain’s fur was enticing, and he pushed it away exactly for that reason.

“Before sunset on the third day, you’ve got to find someone of royal blood,” Pinky said. A golden liquid swirled out of a beaker and formed a crown in the center of the world. It was an image of which Brain had dreamed of for so long. He tried to touch it, but it was far out of reach for him. “Then this charming person has to fall in love with you.”

That sounded...feasible. Three days was a rather generous deadline. Most of the time, they were on a time crunch between eight to twelve hours.

Pinky produced a pink felt heart and held it between two fingers. “Then you have to seal your love with a kiss. And not just any old peck on the cheek, but a kiss of true love.”

A what?

Brain huffed. Of course this plan would have such a ridiculous stipulation. He’d gotten his hopes up for nothing.

...and why was he treating this like it was real?

Because Pinky.

Yes, that was the only explanation. And not even a rational one.

“Oh dear, don’t pout so,” Pinky smirked. The expression was fogging up Brain’s mind. “What else is there to seal amour but with true love’s kiss? It’s a tried and true method, after all.”

He chuckled at his own joke. Brain rolled his eyes.

“If this certain someone kisses you by sunset on the third day, you’ll have the world permanently. But if they don’t, you turn back into a mouse.”

Pinky tossed the felt heart into the mixing bowl, the solution emitting a pink puff of smoke.

“And you belong to me.”

A dangerous edge crept into Pinky’s tone as he whispered into Brain’s ear, and the appendage fluttered uncontrollably until Brain forcefully snatched it to cease its movement.

Pinky tossed a hair tie, penny, and eraser nub into the mixing bowl, then leaned against a long pencil case as he awaited Brain’s reply.

“Suppose I agree to your deal. What then?” Brain asked.

“Well, there’s the matter of payment,” Pinky admitted. He stretched his lower limbs and tail as he rolled onto his stomach, exposing his long lavender-dyed legs. Brain tried not to watch the motion too closely for fear of hypnotism. “If you want something so badly, something of equal value has to be given. Equivalent exchange, as they say.”

“And what exactly do you want?” Brain asked, though he knew the answer.

He’d seen the movie.

“Your voice.”

Pinky’s smile was too wide and manic for Brain’s comfort.

“In other words...” Pinky hummed as he leaned forward, his nose was just an inch away from Brain. “...no more talking, singing, zip!”

He popped the consonant and mimed zipping his mouth, throwing away an invisible key.

It was so warm that Brain couldn’t feel his face.

“Now, now. Don’t be alarmed, Brain.” Pinky stretched luxuriously as he stood up. His tail slinked around Brain’s waist again. “You have your pretty face. And you shouldn’t underestimate the importance of...body language.”

Pinky’s hip bumped into Brain’s, his leg sliding all the way out of the slit of his dress. He batted his eyelashes and blew a kiss to an invisible audience.

Brain covered his face, ears flat against his back. He was fine. Just had to think about...something. What was he trying to picture exactly?

No mathematical formula could save him from the horror that was stupid, sexy Pinky. Curse those mathematical miscreants! They abandoned him in his time of need!

Pinky climbed up and down the stepladder, tossing chemicals and liquids and all sorts of things inside. The bowl rocked back and forth dangerously, bubbles spilling down the sides.

Brain didn’t dare get close. The inside of the bowl surely were an unholy abomination.

But that didn’t stop Pinky.

“Now a dash of zort, a sprinkle of poit! Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble! Fire burn and cauldron bubble!” Pinky cackled, throwing his arms up in the air. “Abracadabra troz! Bibbidi bobbidi narf!”

The mixture now to his satisfaction, Pinky flicked his finger at a notepad and pen, sending them hurtling towards Brain.

“Just sign on the dotted line, you poor unfortunate soul,” Pinky said.

Well...playing along couldn’t hurt. Even when there was a biohazard right in front of him.

And no, the bowl’s contents weren’t the biohazard here.

Brain took a deep breath and signed his name.

The moment he finished, the notepad and pen flew out of his hands and into the bowl.

Pinky wiggled his fingers over the bowl, green smoke rising to the ceiling and seeping past the edges of the blackout curtains to the outside. No smoke detectors went off, though Brain wasn’t surprised. ACME was rather lax on safety protocols.

“Beluga sevruga, come winds of the Caspian Sea!

Larengix glaucitis

Et max laryngitis

La voce to me!”

With a wide grin that spread from ear to ear, Pinky climbed down the stepladder and placed one hand on his seashell necklace, the other tickling the base of Brain’s neck. Brain ducked his head instinctively to stop the ticklish sensation, trapping Pinky’s hand under his jaw.

“Now sing.”

It was rare that Pinky commanded. Brain hated taking orders, yet something compelled him to obey.

Those coy blue eyes demanded, so Brain willingly gave.

And he sang.

Though he was hoarse from surprise at first, Pinky’s finger traced the outline of his neck, up his chin, to the corner of his mouth. Brain imagined his voice growing stronger...could see his voice taking physical form, flowing out of him and into Pinky’s seashell necklace.

Pinky doubled over in laughter as an explosion rocked the counter. The bowl sparked and smoked, its base clattering against the surface with loud metallic bangs.

Brain broke out of his trance as a sludge-like wave with various melted objects slithered down the rim, creeping ever closer.

He wasn’t taking any chances.

Grabbing his maniacally howling companion by the arm, Brain quickly bopped him over the head to halt the laughter, then dragged him over to the window for a quick escape. Pinky recovered from the bop and shimmied past the blackout curtain. Brain took a moment to collect the ACME credit card he’d pilfered from an employee several weeks ago, then followed Pinky onto the windowsill.

Pinky jumped first, safely landing in the bushes below. Holding the credit card above his head, which was no easy feat since the card was about the same size as him, Brain jumped as an explosion rocked the building, and his ears flattened instinctively to shield him from the worst of the noise.

As predicted, he landed in Pinky’s arms.

And it was somewhat mortifying now that Pinky’s eyes had gone from coy to blindingly innocent, even with the heavy eyeshadow. Shoving the card between himself and Pinky’s face, Brain climbed out of his arms.

“Narf! So how’d I do, Brain?” Pinky asked. “Was I convincing?”

Brain dusted off a bit of lavender dye that had rubbed onto his arm. He hoped it was fur-friendly. “You created a dangerous biohazard, toyed with my perception of reality, and overall you were a flirtatious nuisance.”

Pinky’s tail stopped wagging.

“So yes. You were indeed a convincing villain,” Brain said. He tapped the credit card. “And to fulfill the conditions of our original deal, I shall now treat you to Denny’s.”

He was a mouse of his word.

“Hoorah!” Pinky cheered. He twirled around in excitement, his black dress swirling around him as he danced all the way to the sidewalk. “Let’s go, Brain! I wanna look at all the lovely pictures on their menu!”

“You’re going like that?” Brain called after him. Didn’t he want to change out of the Disney villainess ensemble?

“Well you’re naked! So there!” Pinky stuck his tongue out at him.

With a sigh, Brain joined his companion on the sidewalk. Pinky skipped over to a patch of white flowers blooming next to the sidewalk, gently cupping the petals and cooing at a ladybug which landed on a blade of grass next to his foot.

Truly a convincing villain.

And Brain’s poor unfortunate soul was helpless under his power.

End AN: I deny selecting Poor Unfortunate Souls over other villain songs specifically for the body language line. You can’t prove anything.

I HC that Brain would hate Pettigrew more than any other Harry Potter character. I was trying to write a villainous Pinky...somewhere along the way he turned into Pinky Suavo. I don’t get it either XD

There's some folks taking care of the biohazard the mice left behind. Don't worry, the lab's still standing. It's just their problem while the mice get Denny's.

#patb disney #patb fanfiction #pinky and the brain

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mashupxreader · 4 years

Text

Little Buddy.

Hello, Lovebugs.

Din Djanin X Fem Reader

Warnings - none yet but this will be a multi chapter thing that will eventually have lots of smut.

Summary - You need a job and Peli agrees you can work on the Razor Crest for her.

Chapter 2!

You suppose you should have expected this. Out on the street with a pathetic bag filled with clothes and no units to your name. You had been bouncing around on friends couches until you had overstayed your welcome. The problem this time was that you were out of couches to crash on. All your friends were sick of you, not that you could blame them. You had become pathetic with no home, no job, and no drive to change that.

There were few options for you on tatooine for a job. You had no true credentials. You had worked on the junk your father had around his little shop but you didn't have any true training it was everything you taught yourself. After he passed you had nothing. He owed everyone around so they took what they could to repay themselves for his debt. You knew you had one last option but you had been putting it off for as long as possible. Peli had given you a few odd jobs in the past but it had been a while since you had seen her. You essentially had a temper tantrum and stormed off from her hanger. You were young and dumb and in pain from the losses you had. Hopefully, she could see it in her heart to forgive you and let you work to make enough credits to at least get a place of your own.

You made your way down to Peli tail between your legs ready to beg on your knees when an old ship landed on the platform. From the looks and sound of it, the old space junk needed some serious TLC. You continued walking over to Peli catching her eye once the dust had fully settled. She gave you a knowing smirk with a hand on her hip as if to say look whos back. You sighed rolling your eyes. Get through this y/n just a few jobs and then you can come and go as you pleased. You mustered a smile hoping it looked less fake then it felt on your face. You had made it beside Peli when she looked at you before turning to the person coming off the ship. To both of your surprises, it was a Mandalorian. Suddenly the little speech you had been practicing on the way over escaped your mind. You were distracted from looking at the tall Mandalorian followed by a little silver ball floating behind him. This was definitely not a normal occurrence even for Tatooine. He stopped in front of the two of you stiff and serious. The little droids Peli kept around the hanger starting to make their way over to the ship before Mando shot towards one scaring them away.

“Hey!” Peli said ready to straight-up fight a man way bigger than her. “You damage one of my droids you pay for it.” You had to admit Peli had no fear when it came to her turf.

“Just keep them away from my ship,” the modulated voice said clearly not afraid of the shorter woman in front of him.

“You think that's a good idea, do ya? Let's look at your ship.” Peli started to do her walk around clipboard in hand already adding the credits up in her head. She started to do her typical run through that you had seen a million times over. She was a businesswoman who knew how to upcharge a stranger. “Oof! Look at that. Ugh, you got a lot of carbon scorin building up top. Yeah.” she continues looking around poking and pulling as she goes. The Mandalorian was clearly unamused with her little show. She kept mumbling to herself about needing a special tool for this and that it looked like someone was doing target practice on the ship. The Mandalorian cleared his throat to get Peli’s attention.

“I’ve got five hundred imperial credits.” The Mando pulled them out from a small pouch to prove to her he wasn't here to waste her time.

“That's all you got?” Peli said grabbing the credits from him. “Well, what do you think y/n?” You were surprised to hear your name. Honestly, you thought asking for a job would be more painful with pleading and flattery. You paused looking from the ship to the two other people in front of you.

“It will at least cover the hanger,” you said with a shrug. Your haggling skills were never the best and had gotten you yelled at a few times from your father and Peli about upselling to make a living.

“I’ll get you your money,” He said pausing before pushing the button on the little floating orb behind him. Peaking out was a little green creature with the biggest eyes and even bigger ears you have ever seen. It had the smallest little pout probably upset about being woken up from its nap. “I need you to watch him I have a job I need to take care of.” You couldn't help yourself you were drawn to it. Going over to the makeshift pram you reached out to pick up the little thing as it reached out to be picked up.

“What's its name?” You said looking to the Mando as you softly rubbed one of the giant ears on its head.

“I don't know his name. I just call him kid. So we got a deal? I’ll pay for the repairs and for the cost of watching the child.” Peli Hummed from a second before agreeing to his terms. With that, the Mandalorian grabbed a bag from the ship and went off to what you assumed was the job he spoke of.

“Bye Mando,” you said showing the child Mando leaving he cooed moving his ears down sadly. You felt for the little guy being left with two random ladies wasn't exactly what you would want either. “Are you hungry?” you asked the little guy suddenly seeing him brighten at the thought of getting a snackie. You turned around to take him into Peli’s area before being stopped by her in your tracks.

“Nice try y/n, I get the kid you get to work on the pile of space rubble.” Peli had her hands out for the child to be grabbed by her already baby talking to him giving him the pet name womp rat. She started to walk away before turning back to you. “Oh and welcome back y/n.”

You spent the next few days working on the ship with Peli. Every so often she would come over to check your work suggesting different things but otherwise, the two of you fell into the regular rhythm that you had been used to in working with her. The ship was truly in bad shape. Maybe the Mandalorian just wasn't that good at upkeep but he needed to start if he didn't want it to break down in the middle of space. The work was long and made your arms and legs have a familiar ache that reminded you of sleeping on different couches the past year. While working the child would sleep in his little floating pram or play around with the droids. When night would come you would play with him using random object around the shop as toys. His motivation in life however was food. He loved to eat everything and anything he could get his hands on. You were sure you had caught him eating random little creatures around outside. It didn't make him less adorable but you had to wonder where his insatiable appetite came from.

Peli let you sleep on the cot that she had around from the past when you would stay with her. It was very uncomfortable with the metal pushing into your back and sides when you would lay down in it. Yes, beggars can't be choosers but if you could you would choose something with a little more fluff. One of the nights you were laying staring at the ceiling when you heard the child start to stir. At first, they were little sounds like he was dreaming before turning into full-on tears. You snuck over to the orb looking down at the poor little guy. Clearly, he was having a nightmare. You thought back to when you would have nightmares when you were little. Your father would always rub soothing circles into your back to help you feel better. Grabbing the child in your arms you let him rest his head on your shoulder before you started to rub circles onto his tiny back. At first, his little whimpers were loud in your ear breaking your heart as he tried to let the soothing take over him. You lightly shushed him telling him all the typical things like you were there and he was okay. Eventually, after a lot of convincing and a few hiccups after the tears, he fell back asleep on you. You considered putting him back in the orb but you didn't want to wake him. At least that's what you were telling yourself because truthfully the cuddles made you feel so much better. No one had hugged you in so long that it felt nice to be needed.

Waking up you realized that you had slept sitting up leaning against the wall while holding the kid. You were definitely going to be paying for that later when your muscles would be screaming at you asking what the fuck you were thinking. For now, you were just happy that the kid didn't have any more nightmares that night. You could only imagine the things he had seen to end up being in the care of a Mandalorian. You started to hum very lightly to him when you felt like someone was watching you. Looking over you saw the Mandalorian looking at the two of you in your little cuddle puddle.

“He likes you.” the sound of his voice was slightly rough like he was in desperate need of some sleep and water. You nodded starting to stand before realizing your legs were numb from being in the position they were with the kid. Just as you felt like you were about to hit the ground the Mandalorian caught you holding you up while you found your balance. His gloved hands were rough against your skin. His grip was tight but not to the point you felt like he was going to leave a bruise. You gave him a little thanks before placing the child back in the pram. He gave a few little huffs before settling back into his blankets.

“I can show you everything we did on the ship if you want then I can grab Peli.” The Mandalorian simply nodded not giving anything away with that helmet. For all, you knew he could be rolling his eyes and you would be none the wiser. Walking around the ship Mando followed making small comments here and there about your work but overall was satisfied. Turning back to him you finally were able to take in just how much taller he was than you. He was broad and intimidating just to look at. You didn't want to imagine what it would be like having him chase you down as a bounty.

Peli came around the corner with the child following behind. The moment he saw you he made a squealing sound not even caring his father was back from his trip. Mando noticed turning his head to the side clearly surprised the excitement wasn't for him. You went to the child touching his ear softly looking at him closing his eyes. Mando and Peli dealt with the payment as you said good bye to the kid. How did he manage to make you fall in love with him so quickly? You barely noticed Peli call your name to get your attention.

“Oh sorry, Yes?” you said letting go of the kid and taking a step back. Mando looked over at you clearly amused by the way you and the child had already made a bond. It reminded him of how quickly he grew attached to him too.

“I have been looking for someone to watch the kid while I go on jobs. Plus you know your way around a ship. Would you consider working for with me for a couple of weeks?” Did the Mandalorian just give you your free ride off this stupid planet? You didn't think for long before your answer.

“Absolutely.” Mando nodded towards Peli as a final thank you before walking towards the ship the child’s pram following behind him as the kid tried to reach to Mando finally ready for his father’s attention. He really was a man of very few words not that it mattered to you. You ran to your little cot grabbing your bag that had your whole life in it. This was exactly the thing you needed. Running up to Peli she shoved some credits into your hand. “Thank you. For everything. Especially letting me come back after every time I leave.” She rolled her eyes nodding her head to the ship where Mando was waiting for you.

“I’ll always be here for you kid. Be careful out there.” With that, she gave you a little shove towards the ship before walking back to get away from the dust that will be kicked up from the ship. You made your way up the ramp looking back at Peli before closing the ramp. You threw your bag on the floor before crawling up the ladder to the cockpit. There Mando sat in the pilot seat with the child in the seat to his right. You sat down with a small smile on your face.

“Ready?” Mando asked as he flicked a few switches.

“Ready,” you said looking at the kid who cooed in response as the ship began to take off.

#the mandalorian #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x y/n #mandalorian x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin

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voiceless-terror · 4 years

Note

(if you feel like it) what about “snowed in” or “comfort” with jontim for the tma december bingo? my jontim brainrot never stops and I’d love to see what you come up with (I’m sure it’d be amazing as always) thanks so much !

The JonTim brainrot is real and appreciated! I combined this prompt with one of @balanced-to-a-tea‘s, who asked for Secret Santa with the season one archives gang! Here there be 3.5k words of gifts, pining, and kisses of the Jon/Tim variety :)

“It’s a mess out there,” Tim reported, plopping down in his office chair and looking strangely cheerful, given the situation. “Looks like we’re stuck here for the time being.”

There were audible groans all around, though Jon’s was quieter than the others. If he were being honest, their current situation was his fault- he asked them to hang back at the end of the day and help him with some unreachable boxes (unreachable for him, that is). He was trying to get into the habit of checking the weather in the mornings, though he never managed to actually do it until he was too far from his flat to get an umbrella or a heavier coat. This resulted in a few sticky situations, including several occasions of arriving late, looking like a drowned rat.

“And here I was going to tuck in for the night, have a glass of wine, blast the heat at unreasonable levels,” Sasha complained, doing a half-hearted twirl in her chair. “Terrible!”

“What if we lose power?” Martin fretted, still outfitted in his coat and scarf. “I heard there’s going to be high winds. High winds!” Jon’s guilt increased. Being stuck with his (likely angry) staff in the Archives was not a great start to his career as Head Archivist. And just when we were getting along again…

“I’m sorry,” he began, his hands fidgeting. “I shouldn’t have started this project so late, I didn’t realize the weather would get quite as nasty as it did…”

“Don’t worry about it, boss!” Tim grinned, leaning back in his chair and propping his feet up on his desk, an act Jon would usually scowl at him for. “Should’ve told you ‘bout the storm. You never check the weather reports.” Jon flushed; Tim knew him too well. “Besides, I can’t say I was expecting it to get this bad; London’s not known for its prodigious snowfall.”

“You don’t seem too put-out by it.” Martin eyed Tim suspiciously as he began to unwind his scarf. “You’re smiling.”

“Well, yeah!” Tim swirled around, eyeing them all with an unfettered glee. Jon wondered what he had in mind; there was never a dull moment when Tim had free time. He’d learned that the hard way. “There’s something so romantic about being snowed-in, don’t you agree, Jon?”

Jon did not agree; being trapped, even in a big building like the Institute, left him feeling anxious and restless. Sasha agreed, if her rolled eyes were anything to go by. Martin seemed to be considering it, though.

“I suppose there’s something poetic about it?” he mused, leaning back against the wall. “The snow falling, blanketing the ground in white…” All eyes turned to him and he blushed under the scrutiny.

“See! Martin’s got the spirit.” Tim clapped his hands and got to his feet. “We’ve got leftovers from lunch in the fridge. Between that and Martin’s stash of tea biscuits, we won’t go hungry. And there’s that weird frozen lasagna in the back of the freezer…”

“We don’t have an oven, Tim,” Jon pointed out. “And I’m fairly certain that’s been in there for more than a year.”

Tim continued, impervious to any criticism. “And if we have to stay the night, Jon’s got that cot he thinks we don’t know about-”

“Hey-!”

“-and we can raid all the break rooms for their gross cushions-”

“I am not sleeping here,” Sasha said, punctuating the statement with a slam of a hand on her desk. “The weather report says it's supposed to pass over soon. We’ll only be here for a few hours, tops.”

“Weather reports are wrong all the time, Sash! Think of the fun we could get up to.” Tim smiled and Jon’s heart stuttered without his permission, most likely due to the idea of what Tim considered ‘fun.’ With the way his eyes lit up, however, Jon couldn’t fight a small smile. “Ooh! We could do Secret Santa, like we used to do in Research. Remember?”

Jon did remember. He still kept some of the gifts he’d received, mostly small trinkets from Tim and Sasha that somehow managed to give him a small thrill of happiness whenever he saw them. Still, he didn’t know how they could do such a thing in the Archives, with nothing around that could constitute a gift.

“How’re we supposed to do that?” Martin asked, sharing Jon’s concern. “Statements and office supplies are the only things we have access to.”

“Oh ye of little faith,” Tim replied, nudging Martin with his foot. “We’ll get creative! I’m sure with a little thought and effort, we can all find something suitable.” He’d already begun to scribble their names on a piece of paper. “C’mon, it’ll pass the time. Please?” Jon sighed, unable to argue when Tim used his most pathetic puppy-dog eyes.

“Fine,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes at Tim’s whoop of enthusiasm. “But don’t expect anything extravagant. I’m not feeling particularly creative.”

“I guess it could be a good distraction,” Sasha acquiesced, with Martin nodding tentatively. “How long do we get to find a gift? Or make one, I suppose.”

“An hour? Two? Then we can all meet back here and exchange!” Tim nodded, and without waiting for any agreement he crumpled the pieces of paper into a cup and stood up. “Martin, you first. No peeking!”

“I won’t,” he mumbled, reaching in with one hand with his head turned pointedly away. He pulled out a slip of paper and immediately turned red upon opening it. “Um, alright. Yeah.” Maybe he got Tim, Jon mused.

Sasha picked next, her face giving nothing away. Tim held the cup out to Jon, waggling his eyebrows. He ignored this, reaching in to pick one of the remaining two slips of paper. Tim!! It read, with several smiley faces and hearts. He felt his own face heating up and shoved the slip into his pocket, staring at the floor.

“And last but certainly not least, me!” Tim took the last slip with a flourish, grinning at what he read. The four of them stared at each other for an awkward beat until Tim broke the silence with a shrill whistle.

“What are you waiting for? Clock’s a tickin’!”

Fuck.

________

It had been an hour and a half. As far as Jon knew, Tim and Sasha were waiting in the break room, steadily demolishing Martin’s stash of sweets, the man himself having locked himself in Document Storage and thereby eliminating one more place for Jon to scavenge for a gift (not that there was anything in there, but it was the principle of the thing). So now here he sat, moping in his office with nary an idea for what to give Tim.

Tim. He was glad they’d started talking again, albeit not with the same frequency as before. There was of course an adjustment period, that was to be expected- especially when someone younger and arguably less qualified than quite a few candidates suddenly became your boss. But Tim had always been there for him, tolerated his quirks, helped him through a breakdown or two. He stuck by his side when most people in the department couldn’t stand him. Perhaps, with some time, they could go back to being as close as they were. Or closer.

Jon tamped that thought down- it was ridiculous to even think about, now that he was his boss. Professional boundaries aside, what would Tim even see in him? It wasn’t his fault Jon read into every wink, every casual word of praise. A hug or a warm arm around his shoulder that he leaned into instead of turning away. Tim did that with everyone, Jon wasn’t special. He wasn’t Sasha, with her beautiful laugh and her razor-sharp wit. Hell, he’d probably pick Martin over him. Someone nicer, with less sharp edges. Someone who laughed as easily as he did.

Someone who wasn’t Jon.

He shook himself from these thoughts, attempting to concentrate on the task at hand. What did he have that Tim could possibly want? Not his rubber band ball, though he knew that Tim was jealous of its now astronomical proportions (he added to it when he was stressed, which he always was these days). Not the stale packet of crisps in the bottom of his drawer. He thought vaguely of getting a book he thought Tim would like from the library, but that was more of a loan. Maybe an article he found interesting? Tim always used to read the ones Jon forwarded him, and even had a thing or two to say at the end of them. But maybe he found them annoying. Maybe he just did that to shut Jon up. Wouldn’t be the first time.

Jon’s thoughts kept straying to the foyer of the institute, where festive decorations had been set up at the start of the month, most likely Rosie’s doing. There was a beautiful handmade wreath, filled with pinecones and red flowers and other seasonal flora. He remembered back in Research, when Tim would terrorize them all with stupid little pranks and games, his main target being Jon. Jon would always duck away, grumble and complain, and Tim didn’t take it personally. Maybe I’ll indulge him just this once.

Mind made up, he slipped out of his office.

________

Tim watched his three friends with undisguised amusement.

Martin was fidgeting in his seat, constantly crinkling the grocery bag he’d decorated to look more seasonal. Tim knew at once that he’d gotten Jon; he wouldn’t have turned that red for anyone else. Poor sod. Tim had Sasha, a gift he wouldn’t sweat over. She appreciated a good gag. He was fairly certain Sasha got Martin, judging by her neutral, unbothered expression.

Or maybe he just hoped she did. Because that would mean that Jon got Tim.

Not that it would mean anything. He was just interested in what Jon would pick out, that’s all. He could be surprisingly thoughtful, if past gifts were anything to go by. He still had the small box of fidget toys on his desk, where they got regular use.

He clapped his hands decisively, attempting to clear his mind of any more Jon-thoughts. “Well, then. As the emcee for this event, I’ll go first. Sasha, may I present to you the Tim Stoker Coupon Bonanza, valued at over one thousand dollars- but for you? Free!”

He revealed it with all the fanfare of a marriage proposal, bending down on one knee to hand over a binder of hastily drawn nonsense that Sasha would surely appreciate. She took it just as delicately, thumbing through the pages with a delightful smirk.

“One free coffee from the place around the corner?” She put a hand to her chest in faux- surprise. “Tim, you shouldn’t have!” Never mind that he already got her coffee every morning.

“I know, I know. I’m too generous, really.”

“One three hour lunch break. Don’t think Jon would like that.”

“He can come along. Marto too!”

“One date to the Jade Buffet, where we will split the check- Tim, the rest of these are more for you than they are-”

“Moving on!” He interrupted. “Sasha, why don’t you show us what you’ve got?” She ignored his wink, shutting the book with an over-exaggerated sigh. She reached out for a small bag on her desk, which she handed over to Martin. He thanked her quietly, unwrapping a mug- Sasha’s favorite, with a cartoon of a dog that she’d hand-painted (Sharpie’d, would be more accurate) to look like one of those highland cows Martin was always going on about. The entire effect was monstrous, but Martin seemed touched. Tim was happy too, as this meant Jon must have drawn his name.

“Oh that’s- that’s so nice, thank you Sasha!” His smile was infectious, even Jon wasn’t immune to it (though he tried to hide it).

“It’ll probably come off if you wash it, so I wouldn’t actually use it,” Sasha advised. “But it could make a nice pencil holder.”

“Oh! That’s handy-”

“Ahem!” Tim once again interrupted; he was eager to see what Martin had whipped up for Jon, considering he’d holed himself up for about two hours. “Martin, I believe it’s your turn?”

“Um, y-yeah.” He put the cup down with some reluctance, picking up the bag he’d decorated with snowflakes and trees and handing it over to Jon, who looked surprised that anyone had gotten him anything. It was an expression Tim was used to; Jon never expected kindness, even in circumstances when he would very clearly receive it. Silly man.

As soon as Jon began to reach into the bag, Martin stumbled through an explanation. “You don’t need to keep it, n-not if you don’t want, but y-you’re always saying you’re cold and y’know, I have extras, so-”

Martin had given Jon one of his many scarves, this one a worn, dark green that was sure to look lovely with his skin tone. He spent two hours deciding on that? It was a nice gift, for sure. Jon held it in his hands like it was completely foreign to him, though Tim could see him running his fingers over the knit appreciatively, looking at it with wide eyes.

“B-But this is your scarf, Martin,” he said, once he found the words. “I can’t-”

“Well now it’s yours,” Martin replied, his voice steadying with resolve. “Anyway, I um- it’s got your name on it. Or your initials, at least.” He gave a nervous laugh, his face turning even redder if possible.

And sure enough, at the end of the scarf was a small, messy embroidered J.S., along with a crude attempt at a small cat face. The effort was adorable, and it sent a pang through Tim’s chest for several reasons he didn’t want to name.

“T-That’s- well, thank you, Martin.” Jon ran his fingers over the small ‘J’ as if it would disappear if he looked away. “That’s very thoughtful of you.” Jon placed it almost reverently back in the bag, giving Martin a rare, genuine smile, one that Tim wished he had put on his face. Stop that.

“Jon’s turn!” he said, mustering up his last bit of enthusiasm. “I for one have no idea who Jon got, so this is going to be a real surprise-”

“S-Shut up, Tim.” Jon muttered, reaching for something behind him. He hesitated, his hands trembling slightly as he pulled out a small sprig of what looked to be pine needles, because it couldn’t be what Tim thought it was, no sir, that wouldn’t make sense-

He watched as Jonathan Sims moved closer and with shaking hands and a beet-red face, moved up on his tippy-toes to hold a tiny sprig of mistletoe above their heads. And then, in what surely must have been a hallucination or a dream sequence, two lips met his in a tiny peck of a kiss that was over before Tim could truly register it.

He stared unblinking as Jon sank back on his heels, his eyes still tightly shut from the kiss. Tim brought a hand up to his mouth, the warm tingle of slightly chapped lips on his still fresh in his mind. Jon began to stutter in the absolute silence of the room, stumbling backwards without looking up from his feet.

“I’m, um- I-I have to. S-Sorry! I’m going to... goodbye now.”

And with that Jonathan Sims fled the room, leaving three stupefied assistants in his wake.

_________

“Knock Knock!”

Tim tried to keep his voice as light as possible. He didn’t think Jon could stand anything more than that right now.

He’d given him a half hour of solitude, enough for him to overcome whatever embarrassment he felt over the encounter. Martin was stewing in a corner, looking shell-shocked and mopey over the turn of events. Tim was just as shocked as he was. Little Jonathan Sims, grumpy researcher and now even grumpier Head Archivist, giving Tim a kiss? Under the mistletoe?

“Go get him,” Sasha smirked, kicking his chair. “Bring him some food. And maybe return the favor.”

So he took a plate of reheated Pad Thai and a bottle of rum he kept under his desk for special occasions, hoping to win Jon over. Let him know the kiss was much appreciated, and that perhaps he’d like another if Jon was so inclined.

The man jumped up from his desk, where he’d had his head pillowed in his arms and his chunkiest cardigan wrapped around him for warmth. It was getting colder, and Tim hadn’t checked outside recently, too distracted by current events. His face was still flushed red, and he wouldn’t meet Tim’s eyes. I’ll have to change that.

“Thought I’d come bearing gifts.” He waved the bottle of rum around for Jon to see as he walked into the room. “Of the food and drink variety. But I wouldn’t mind a repeat of what happened in the break room.” He threw in a wink for good measure- God, why couldn’t he ever be serious? He always fell back on jokes and teasing words.

“I’m-I’m sorry, Tim,” Jon groaned, reaching out for the rum and pouring a liberal amount into a mug that previously housed tea. He still avoided Tim’s eyes. “That was completely inappropriate, I-I just couldn’t think of-”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he placed the food down on Jon’s desk, ignoring the pain in his heart at the apology. So he didn’t mean it. He plopped down on Jon’s couch, trying to feign a lightness he didn’t feel as he drank straight from the bottle. “No harm, no foul. It was nice.” He shrugged. Jon moved from his desk to join him on the couch, looking so adorable and cozy that Tim had to restrain from taking him in his arms. He watched as Jon took two large mouthfuls of the rum, knocking it back like a champ. Jesus. And then he raised his eyes to his, meeting them with a wide-eyed hopefulness that made Tim’s heart stutter in his chest.

“So- so you didn’t mind?”

“Nope.” Tim took another sip of the rum, wondering where this was going. He wouldn’t…

“Then you-,” Jon gulped, seemingly gathering his courage. “You wouldn’t mind if we- that is, if I maybe did it again?”

Tim stared.

“I-I still have the mistletoe.”

Jon sat there, so earnest and vulnerable, his hands fidgeting with the drink in his lap. Tim remembered the first time he laid eyes on him, the taciturn young researcher with a sharp mind and an even sharper tongue. He imagined asking him on a date, getting to know the man under that prickly exterior. Making him laugh, getting that rare smile that Martin got today. But he didn’t seem interested and Tim never wanted to push it, too respectful of his boundaries.

But maybe he hadn’t imagined the way Jon leaned into his touch. How he laughed at Tim’s shitty jokes a bit longer than necessary. That the looks he got in the library weren’t ones of annoyance, but fondness. So he set the bottle down, took the drink out of Jon’s hands and replaced it with the warm grip of his own. His voice came out low, quiet and serious and utterly unlike him.

“I wouldn’t mind at all.” And he leaned in and kissed Jonathan Sims, just like he wanted to do all those years ago.

It was a sweet, lingering thing- the taste of rum on his lips, lips that parted so easily for Tim like he’d been waiting, wanting this for so long, maybe even as long as Tim had. And when they finally parted, Jon stared at him with those deep brown eyes and gave him the smile he’d been wishing for and it was just for him. He put that there.

“Was-was that okay?” he murmured, feeling nervous and open under Jon’s intense gaze.

“Yes,” was the whispered response. He let out a small, charming laugh that Tim would always remember when he thought back to this night, the first night of many stolen kisses and secret smiles. “I-I liked that.”

“Well, good!” Tim could no longer contain the urge to have Jon in his arms and pulled him to his chest, appreciating the small squeak it earned him. “Because there’s more where that came from.” Jon leaned into his touch, as if trying to leech every bit of warmth from Tim that he could. It felt so utterly right to be here, on this uncomfortable couch with an armful of the man he’d been pining over for the last three years. Score, a giddy part of his mind yelled. They laid there in silence for a few minutes, reveling in the feeling of affection finally realized when Jon’s head perked up from his chest, a concerned look in his eyes.

“Do you think Rosie’s going to notice I nicked her mistletoe?”

Tim snickered. “Oh, absolutely. But I’ll take the fall. She’s not getting that back.”

Jon was always thoughtful with his gifts. And this was one he intended to keep.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28201134

#prompt fill #my writing #tma #the magnus archives #jontim #jonathan sims #tim stoker #advent archives #fluff #pining #i will not apologize for the sappiness of this #submit to my jontim agenda #cinnamoniic

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wormstacheangel · 4 years

Text

Almost: Ch 5

Chapter Summary: Dean hides in Cas's childhood bedroom during the funeral reception. He quickly finds himself having a nice conversation with Mick and - fuck- the dude's actually nice.

Read on tumblr Ch 1 link | Ch 2 link | Ch 3 link | Ch 4 link |

or read it on AO3 link (maybe leave a nice comment?)

Word Count: 2468 More Under The Cut

“Ah, this is where you’ve been hiding.”

Dean was sprawled across Cas’s old twin bed, one leg swinging off the edge as he laid on his back holding up one of his old X-Men comics. He muttered a “Fuck” under his breath as he put the book down on his chest before looking up at Mick. The happy husbands-to-be walked in and closed the door behind him.

While Dean wasn't a big fan of the Novak clan - they weren’t so hot of Winchesters and company either - Sam and Charlie couldn’t give a rat’s ass. They both stayed downstairs with Balthazar who’s been the only one to welcome them in. Finding them ‘fascinating’. Whatever the hell that meant. But they were having a good time and Dean wasn’t going to rain on their parade just cause he wasn’t in the mood to mingle.

Instead, he hid in a familiar room, Cas’s childhood bedroom, that looked practically untouched. Even their old snack drawer was still filled with old Halloween candy wrappers.

“Making yourself at home?” Mick asked as he looked around the room. His hands touching the items on the desk. “Oh, didn’t know Castiel read comic books.”

Dean sat up as he ran his hand nervously through his hair. “He - um, well - he doesn’t. I mean he does but he won’t buy them himself. Those are all mine.”

Mick looked at him, eyebrows pushed together as he squinted. “You brought comic books to read?”

“No!” Dean put the comic book he was reading down on the bed as he stood up to walk over to the bookshelf behind the door. He motioned towards the middle row. “These are all mine. I used to bring them so when Cas had to study I wasn’t so bored in his room.”

“Ah.” Was all he said as he looked back at the desk. “So you two spent a lot of time together?”

Dean shrugged, his hands awkwardly digging into his pant pockets. “Yeah, I guess. We did go to high school together.”

“Yes,” Mick looked over at Dean, a bright smile on his face as if he was excited that he knew something about Cas. “His first public school experience! He told me.”

Dean awkwardly chuckled. “Yeah, he got in real trouble when Chuck found out he forged his signature.”

“What?”

“Cas! He um, he forged Chuck’s signature on the school papers.” Dean laughed remembering and walking back to sit on the bed while Mick looked at him, eyes sparkling in curiosity. Dean hated it. “Yeah,” He cleared his throat. “Um, Gabriel and Raphael helped him keep the whole thing a secret from Chuck for almost two years. It wasn’t until Cas got suspended that-”

“Castiel got suspended! He never told me!” Mick grabbed the desk chair and moved it closer to Dean. He looked happy to know more things about Cas and Dean felt himself relax just a little. As much as he was jealous - he was practically hulking out by how damn green he was - he was glad that Mick actually seemed to care about Cas. “Well, go on, Dean.”

“Oh, yeah.” Dean blinked a few times to catch his thoughts. His face blushing at the memory. “Shit, well, Cas got into a fight.”

“A fight?!”

“Yeah!” Dean laughed. “Some guys were messing with me. Just some dumb guy shit, you know. And someone must have called Cas cause all I remember is my nose cracking under a fist and then seeing the dude get tackled down. Like Cas full-on body slammed that dude to the ground!” Dean’s face hurt from the big grin that stretched over his lips. “Then he was screaming! Man, it was some sight! Never seen him so damn rabid like that since but I had to drag him off the guy before he really gave the guy a concussion.”

“My Castiel did that?” Mick sat back in his chair, in amazement and shock while Dean tried to hide the flinch from those words. Rolling his shoulders back before rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Sure did.” Dean nodded before slowly standing up. “Well, we should head back down-”

“You know,” Mick sighed as he looked down at his hands. “I always feel that Castiel keeps me at a distance. As if he’s still guarding his heart from me.”

Dean falls back on the bed with a huff. For fucks sake, he really doesn’t want to play counselor to a guy he wants to hate. He could easily do the fake nice guy act and tell Mick that maybe Cas just doesn’t love him. That Cas was just a nice guy who has a hard time saying no to people and while that’s true he really doubts that’s why Cas said yes to him. Cas said yes because he loves this pathetic looking guy and Dean just wants him to be happy.

Even if it’s not with him.

Though Mick looked like he already trusted Dean wholeheartedly and it would be so easy - No!

Dean sighed as he scrubbed a hand down his face. Knowing damn well he was gonna regret playing nice but the guilt of being a part of hurting Cas would feel a shit ton worse. “Mick, man, Cas is complicated.”

Mick looked at him with soft round eyes. He was being sincere as fuck and it was annoying. “Not to you.”

“I had practice.” Dean smugly smiled and gave Mick a wink. “Cas is like - fuck how do you even describe that crazy asshole?”

Mick laughed, relaxing into his chair more. “I guess like that but I wouldn’t say he was an asshole.”

Dean laughed and reached to pat Mick on the shoulder. “Oh, then you really don’t know him! If he hasn’t kicked you out of his car in the middle of a rainstorm because you offended his favorite character then just count yourself lucky.”

“He did that to you?” His eyes widened in shock.

“Twice.” Dean held up the two fingers with a grin. “Had to walk home too because he didn’t come back for me.”

Mick and Dean both laughed.

Fuck. Dean thought as he saw the guy wipe tears from his eyes from laughing. Mick really is a great guy and now Dean just wants to help him. If it means he could make Cas happy then that’s all that mattered. He can at least do that for his old best friend.

“He’s an old soul.” Dean continued and pointed at the bookshelf again. “You can check out the rest of the books and see they’re all classics. He won’t admit to it but he also likes cheesy YA books.”

Mick got up to check out the bookshelf, his eyes scanning it up and down before he reached for a random book that caught his eyes.

“He’s a grumpy old man mostly. He hates being wrong and would fight you tooth and nail to prove his point.”

Mick looked up at him and shook his head. “I think me and you really do know two different, Castiels.”

Dean raises his eyebrows at that and hopes his heartbreak doesn’t show on his face. “Kinda curious on what your Cas is like.”

“He’s focused.” Mick nods stiffly at him before his face scrunches up. “That’s a sad first description of my fiance, isn’t it?”

Dean laughed before nodding. “Yeah, dude, it is.”

Mick looked so in love though as he smiled at Dean. “It’s stupid, Dean, but I just...since I met him I can’t think of anyone else.”

No. No. I don’t want to hear this. Dean kept that smile on his face as he stood up to maybe distract Mick with a book. Cas usually had dumb bookmarks maybe he can talk about the pressed flowers.

“What about you, Dean?”

“What about me?”

“Did you feel the same when you got married?”

“When I got what?” Dean froze in the middle of the room but before Mick could ask again the door swung open. Shielding Mick from view.

Dean’s eyes meet the baby blue’s that made his stomach flip.

Then Cas smiled at him and it wasn’t fair. He shouldn’t be smiling at him like that. Smiling as if Dean was his favorite damn person in the world. As if the hour separation from the last time he saw him was torture for him and seeing Dean was just pure relief. It wasn’t fair.

“Dean.” Cas sighed, his shoulders dropping as his whole expression softened. He looked so relieved and happy to see him that Dean didn’t know what to do with himself. He just stood there like a dumbass as Cas ran into him. Crashing his whole body against Dean’s own and into a big comforting hug.

Then Cas did this laugh - fuck it sounded so unrestrained and heartfelt that it made Dean feel like he was floating - as he hid his face against the crook of Dean’s neck.

“I didn’t think you were going to come.” Cas quietly says and the relief in Cas’s voice left Dean more dumbfounded than he already was.

“Wow! Am I getting one of those hugs too, sweetheart?” There was a small strain to Mick’s happy tone.

Cas froze in Dean’s arms - he even heard the dumbass cuss into Dean’s skin - before he pulled away to look back at Mick. Then looked back at Dean, his dumb head tilt - thank god that didn’t change - and squinty eyes asking questions that Dean could hear clear as day.

Dean rolled his eyes. “We were just talking. Don’t get your damn panties in a twist, Cas.”

“I was just asking.” Cas shrugged, a smile in his voice before he walked over to Mick. “I’m glad you two are getting along?”

Dean could hear the damn question in his voice and stuffed his hands in his pockets. His heart was still racing from the few seconds of having Cas so close again. Having him look at him like...like that.

Mick pulled Cas from around the waist and reached to kiss his cheek. It was sweet and Dean saw the red prick Cas’s cheeks.

“We are. I never had a best friend before but I am jealous of your friendship.” Mick looked over at Dean. “Must be nice to have that deep connection with someone.”

Dean looked away. Instead gave his attention to the desk that still had another comic book with a chip bag folded inside to be used as a bookmark.

“Yes.” Cas quietly said before clearing his throat. “Um, why are you both in my room?”

“I just followed Dean here.” Mick quickly answered while Dean nervously ran his hand through his hair.

“You know me, Cas. I can’t stay too long with that creepy vampire clan you have as a family.” Dean winked at him while Cas rolled his eyes.

“Vampires?” Mick asked as he looked between them.

“They’re not vampires.” Cas said at the same time Dean said, “Yeah, you know, bat wings and fangs. The full Twilight!”

“We don’t have...Dean! Stop telling people my family is made up of vampires!”

“I’ll be more worried at the fact that people always easily believe me.”

“Ah,” Mick awkwardly laughed as he wiggled a finger between Cas and Dean. “Is this like an inside joke?”

“No.” “Yes.”

Mick hummed as he dropped his hand. Clearly uncomfortable but he should try stepping into Dean’s shoes.

“How was the burial?” Mick turned to smile at Cas, leaning in to kiss his shoulder, and Dean had to fight the urge to roll his eyes.

Just cause he thought the dude was nice doesn’t mean he wants to see that shit.

“It was fine. Nobody really talked.” Cas nodded, his eyes far away as he was thinking about it because he was unsure. Then he blinked a couple of times before turning to look at Dean again. “Which reminds me, Bobby and you are invited to Dad’s will reading tomorrow afternoon. Actually, invited is the wrong word. You guys have to be there in order for the testament to be read.”

“What?” Dean shuffled the weight on his feet awkwardly as he tried to process Cas’s words. “What - wait. Why do we have to be there?”

“I honestly don’t know.” Cas shrugged, “But I would steer clear of my brothers for a while. Probably Sam too. While Gabriel may think it’s funny, he is the only one. They already don’t particularly like you, Dean.”

“Yeah, Cas, I noticed.”

“Really? They like me.” Mick proudly said, cheeks high as he smiled.

“Shocker.” Dean muttered but by the look of Cas’s face, he must have not said it quietly enough. “Whatever. Maybe I’ll just get Sam and Charlie and go home.”

Cas tried to step forward towards Dean but he saw Mick’s grip around his waist tighten. Cas made a face but then he gave Dean one of those fake smiles. “Yeah, probably for the best. Don’t want Mike finding you and interrogating you all night.”

Dean nodded, biting the inside of his cheek before he gave them both the same cocky smile. “Yeah. Sounds like a plan then. I’ll head out then.”

Dean made his way out of the room, not wanting to meet the stare that was digging holes into him. He made it down the hall and was on the first step down the stairs when Cas called out to him. Dean turned around just when Cas stopped only a few inches away from him. From this angle, he can just take the next step up and have his lips pressed up against Cas’s skin. Against his lips. Pull him down for a kiss he desperately can’t stop selfishly thinking about.

At least he can imagine he was brave enough to do that.

Instead, he looked down at the piece of paper that Cas was handing him. “Take it, Dean, it won’t bite.”

Dean takes it and looks to see it was Cas’s phone number written in quick handwriting. That dumbass even drew a little happy face.

“Call me in the morning so I can give you all the details about tomorrow afternoon.”

Dean puts the paper in his pocket as he smiles up at Cas. “Sure, Cas. Thanks.”

Cas smiles back and Dean swears he blushes. Before Dean could enjoy the handsome sight, Cas ducks his head down to leave a kiss on Dean’s cheek. It was quick but it still felt lingering as it burned his skin.

“Night, Dean.” Cas whispers as he starts to walk away. “Um, and thanks for keeping Mick company. Give your family my best for me!”

Dean sucked in a shaky breath. “S-sure.”

Then he waves back at Cas, who looked like he was almost skipping before he disappeared back into his bedroom. Back to Mick.

#My Writing #WormstacheWrites #Destiel #Deancas #Supernatural #SPN #A More Profound OTP #destiel fanfic #deancas fanfic #mutual pinning #angst #slow burn #happy ending fic #fanfic #fanfiction

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remmushound · 3 years

Text

Curse of the Clan Part 3! @scentedcandlecryptid @brightlotusmoon @digitl-art-monstr @selfindulgenz

Splinter was pacing. His paws were folded behind his back and his ears on a constant swivel as he listened for the telltale clip-clopping of Baron Draxum’s approaching hooves. He had called the aggravating yokai over an hour ago and still there was no sign of the faun! Draxum was always tardy, but Splinter assumed that he would be able to hear just how important a situation was at hand and hurry! A fortnight— only two weeks— and he was going to waste half of it just waiting for this ignorant little—

“I’m here.” Draxum’s raspy voice sounded down the tunnel. “I’m here, don’t get your tail in a twist.”

Splinter turned quickly. He hadn’t even heard the creature approach! Draxum, for all his skill and prowess, was never very adept at sneaking up on people. He had only been there a few seconds and already he looked bored out of his mind, long red robes draped over his tall frame, obscuring muscle and bone plates from sight and casting a doubt upon just how powerful the yokai truly was.

“Draxum!” Splinter skittered over to Draxum and the yokai sighed and leaned down before Splinter could ask him to, “What took you so long?”

“I had to finish up my shift, I can’t just leave early!” Draxum stuck his nose in the air with a scoff, “I have perfect attendance! Besides, whenever you sound urgent, I make an attempt to draw out your suffering as long as possible.”

Splinter growled and stomped his foot like a furious child might. “BARON DRAXUM THIS IS A MATTER OF LIFE AND DEATH!”

Draxum only smiled and rolled his eyes. “Oh joy. Pray tell, is it your death that I have to look forward to?”

“Would you cut it with the passive aggressive comments Draxum?! I just got a warning from my mother!”

“Your mother?” Draxum asked slowly.

“Yes.”

Draxum frowned and stood up straight, tilting his head ever so slightly. “Your... dead mother.”

Splinter growled, his ears flattening and hackles raising. “I’M AWARE SHE IS DEAD BUT IF YOU JUST LET ME TALK, I WILL EXPLAIN!”

Draxum hardly reacted to the scolding beyond a roll of his eyes. “Well, I’m not stopping you. Go ahead.”

As calmly as he could manage while suppressing the urge to strangle the frustrating yokai, Splinter quickly explained the events of the day. Draxum was surprisingly silent during the exchange; beyond the odd question or request for clarification, he didn't say anything. When Splinter concluded, Draxum lowered his head in a solemn understanding.

“This is most troubling. Do your sons know?”

Splinter shook his head. “I… felt like I needed to talk it over with someone else before I tell them about it, and you’re the only other adult who I know that wouldn’t run screaming in terror.”

“Mm.” Draxum closed his eyes as he considered, “You must tell them. Whatever this curse she speaks of is, it will affect all of us. Not me, of course, but still.” Draxum laughed and put a hand to his chest.

Splinter growled, but agitation was quick to give way to a soft concern. “But… sending them into danger so soon after they just defeated the Shredder? They’re still celebrating, it seems almost criminal!”

“They are smart, and they will understand.” Draxum said lowly, “And after they claim victory, because they will, then they will have even more to celebrate.”

“You don’t know my sons like I do! They don’t do well under deadlines or pressure!” Splinter whined, folding his paws behind his back as he began to pace his anxiety out.

“I know your sons are strong and smart and skilled, and I know that even when they doubt themselves, they always come out as victorious in the end. They get it from their father.”

Splinter stopped and looked up at Draxum. “Was… that a compliment?”

Draxum cleared his throat and stood up a little straighter, holding his head high and refusing to look at Splinter. “Perhaps.”

“Aw.” Splinter couldn’t help but smile, “Draxum—“

“Run along now!” Draxum shooed Splinter away quickly, “Go tell your sons!”

“I…” Splinter searched for any other excuse. “It is rather early…”

“Yoshi.”

“They don’t usually wake until at least four pm…”

“Yoshi.” Draxum sounded more serious this time.

“Fine, fine!” Splinter growled, “I’m sorry I don’t like burdening my young sons with traumatizing and life-altering experiences on a weekly basis, BARON DRAXUM!”

Draxum laughed. “Why not? It makes their lives rather entertaining; don’t you think?”

“I just…” Splinter shook his head, anger once more quickly turning to a resigned sadness, “Didn't want this kind of life for them. I wanted them to be happy and make friends and live long, healthy lives! Not send them into battle any time the world may be in danger. I mean, what if mama was wrong?”

“What are the chances of that?” Draxum asked.

“Very… very small.” Splinter sighed and slumped, sliding down the wall and stopping once he reached the floor to rest his head in his paws. “Please… please just let them have the day to rest. They deserve to rest!”

“It is not up to me.” Draxum said simply, “If you want them to rest, then let them rest. But I would advise you get your affairs in order so you can be ready for when they wake and not waste such valuable time.”

Splinter sniffled and looked up at Draxum.

“Don’t be so pathetic, Yoshi.” Draxum huffed. “You are a strong master! You escaped my clutches more times than I could count on both hands! Your sons even more! Though you may have lost your hunger for fighting, your sons only grow hungrier for it every day. You cannot starve them of what they hunger for!”

“But I can stop them from getting a bellyache.” Splinter answered back, “That’s what parents are meant to do. I will take the rest of the day, as you suggested, to try and figure out a way to move forward. And when my sons rise tonight, I shall tell them.”

Splinter kept to his promise. He delayed himself longer than he wanted to, allowing his sons the time to eat their breakfast and chatter away for almost an hour before he finally called them all to attention and told them what he knew. With each word, Splinter felt more and more guilty until he had finally caught them up.

“I am so… so sorry I must ask this of you, my sons.” Splinter was almost crying by that point.

The first one to move from their silent and stunned stupor was Leonardo, who got up from his seat to walk over and take his father’s head in his hands. He forced the rat to look up at him. Splinter and Leonardo’s eyes met for a long minute before Leonardo pulled Splinter into a tight, crushing hug. Splinter returned the hug on instinct, his mind still numb and buzzing with the sudden affection. Leonardo laid his head on Splinter’s shoulder.

“We won’t let you down. I promise.”

“You’re not mad…?” Splinter asked with a weak laugh.

“Why would we be mad?” Leonardo laughed as he pulled away to look at Splinter again.

“The only mild annoyance is not knowing where to start.” Donatello said with a long yawn before sighing and resting his chin on his hand.

“Uh… actually.” Splinter cleared his throat. “I took the chance to get that all arranged for you boys. I… called some old friends of mine, and one of them believes that he might know where to begin. He’s human, I think, but he’s knowledgeable of all things mystic and magic around the globe. Even if he is an insufferable piece of—“

“I didn't know you were still friends with any humans!” Michelangelo squeaked happily.

“Well, I haven’t talked to him since you boys were tots. You met him once, but you were so young that I doubt you will remember. He… has kept a close eye on you boys for quite some time, and he was very impressed with your latest victory with Shredder.”

“He knows about that?” Donatello asked, tapping his fingers on the table.

“Yes. He is very… up to date with current events.” Splinter cleared his throat, “He has arranged a private escort to take us to him in an hour.”

“Private escort, fancy~!” Leonardo churred.

“Yes, very.” Splinter grunted, “So you boys to shoo and go get ready, there is no time to waste! Go go go!”

Splinter ushered the boys away with waves of his paws, forcing them out of the room.

“You’re coming with us, right dad?” Michelangelo asked.

Splinter didn't know how to react, so he settled for, “We will see.”

#writing Draxum is so fun!#curse of the clan!

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jonathanvik · 3 years

Text

Starlight Dream - Chapter 2

A cruel chuckle escaped Lilha’s lips as she watched her prey walk down the street with her ridiculous friends. Her fairy companion circled around her, chatting away useless nonsense. Above the vampire queen, the sun rained down its hateful light. While not dangerous to a higher vampire like herself, it still significantly weakened her. At this hour, most vampires were asleep, hiding in terror from this magical girl menace.

She’d been planning this attack for days, studying the girl’s habits and moods. A predator needed to understand its victim before destroying them. Since the return of the sun, Seina had spent an unhealthy amount of time outside. This park was one of her most favorite places to visit. It wasn’t difficult to devise the perfect plan to kill this pathetic, naive girl. Once Lilha’s plan was complete, vampires would return to their correct position as the world’s undisputed masters, now and forever! Darkness would reign again for all eternity!

“Uh, excuse me, but could I have a scoop of chocolate ice cream?” A young child asked, interrupting Lilha’s victory gloating.

Reality crashed down on the vampire queen, forcing her to return to her job. When Seina had devastated her vampire masters, Lilha had lost everything, a queen in name only, forced to work at an ice cream stall to pay the bills! Her uniform was a tacky red hat and an ugly striped shirt.

Before, she had lived in a palace that even the richest of kings would envy. Now, she dwelled in a one-room apartment with a leaky roof and rats. In happier days, her late husband delighted in making humans live in utter squalor for his amusement. It didn’t leave her with many suitable places to live. Her pride made her refuse to live in the sewers like other displaced vampires.

“Here,” Lilha said, handing over the boy’s orders with little enthusiasm. Her excitement had drained away, making her feel dead inside. This brought back too many terrible memories of working at a McRonald's before her queenhood. Back then, Lilha had sworn she’d possess only the best in life.

Curse that magical girl! Curse her! From the corner of her eye, Lilha watched Seina get into position. She bubbled with excitement, eager to see herself avenged.

“I love this view!” The magical girl said, looking over the bridge, watching the clear sky and the cars driving beneath them. After the vampire’s downfall, humans were working hard to return to their lives pre-darkness. While there were fewer cars than in ages past, it was a solid return to normalcy.

“Really?” Colten asked, tilting his bulbous head. To him, it wasn’t that extraordinary. “Oh right. You seldom saw the sun.”

Seina shook her head. She closed her eyes and extended her arms, soaking in the sun. “I could stand here all day!”

The magical girl’s brainless friend laughed. “You’re so silly, Seina!”

The fairy, however, seemed touched, lips extending into a slight smile. “Stay as long as you like.”

Idiot, you’re making this so much simpler! With a slight flick of her hand, the vampire queen signaled the beginning of her plan. In a few moments, the meddlesome magical girl would be dead.

From the darkness behind a trash can, Cugo, the fifth greatest vampire assassin, struck. He pulled out a long green tube and placed it over his shoulder. After closing one eye, Cugo aimed his rocket launcher and unleashed the missile. The target struck home, and Seina’s friends screamed in horror. The projectile exploded, sending the magical girl flying upon impact. Lilha cackled in delight as the girl’s body rag dolled in the air, landing in the busy street.

“Seina!” The fairy’s voice cracked, eyes widening in horror.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Lilha’s mirth increased as the magical girl’s lifeless body landed before a heavy truck carrying construction equipment. The vehicle couldn’t avoid the girl in time and bumped as its enormous tires ran over her.

I did it! Lilha did a victory dance, heartened by the gruesome death of her most hated enemy. Freedom at last!

“Oh, she’s fine. T-thank goodness.” Colten said, throwing cold water at Lilha’s celebration.

I-Impossible. The vampire’s queen stomach twisted in dread, running towards the railing. Sure enough, Seina was sitting up, rubbing the back of her neck. Except for her charred and burned dress, the girl seemed otherwise unhurt. The truck driver exited his cabin, relieved to discover the girl he’d struck unharmed.

“You have to got to be %@$&* kidding me.” Several more curses escaped the vampire queen’s lips. How, why? How did she survive without her magical powers?!

“Change Change, Magical Love Dress Up!” Moments later, Seina leaped to the bridge above to confront her attacker.

“Aiko, are you okay?” Seina asked, concerned.

“I’m fine, just a little scared.” While a little bruised, the girl appeared alright.

“What a dirty trick! Vampires.” The fairy used the name like a curse.

A new voice snorted in derision. “Lucky. I've heard you weren’t easy to kill.”

“So, you’re my attacker.” Seina glared towards the newcomer. Her friend yelped in surprise and fear, hiding behind a nearby bush.

The vampire cackled. “Correct, little girl. My name is Cugo, and I will be your death!”

The vampire was a gruesome sight. Over his pale bare-chested pasty body, tiny bones protruding from his body, each from his many victims. Cugo enjoyed claiming tokens from the people he killed. The sight made the magical girl recoil in disgust.

“Like my prizes?” Cugo purred. “I have so many. It’s my goal to one day kill a billion people!” The vampire assassin cackled again.

Colten snorted in amusement. “You already look like a pincushion. How the heck will you fit a billion?”

“Yeah, I don’t really see how that works,” Seina added. “Why kill a billion? And doesn’t it hurt?”

“Pain is my power! I revel in slaughter and blood! Death is my constant companion.” Cugo withdrew a knife, licking the blade with his tongue. Blood oozed from where he’d sliced its surface. The blood muffled the next words pouring from the assassin’s mouth. “Hurt me more! The more pain you cause me, the more invincible I become!”

“Okay,” Seina replied, nonplus. “And that doesn’t really answer my questions.”

“Why’d I even bother?” Lilha returned to her ice cream cart, discovering several more children impatiently awaiting their treat. While she served her customers, the ex-vampire queen heard her hired assassin’s screams. Moments later, the park was silent. That sneak attack had been their best opportunity to kill the hated magical girl. Lilha wasn’t under any illusion that the idiot had any chance otherwise.

Is this my life now? A single tear slid down her face. Fate had thrust Lilha back into the horrible existence she lived before her turn. The ex-vampire queen wiped her face and pretended to smile as more brats demanded ice cream. She could at least maintain some dignity.

---

“I’m fine, don’t fret, Colten,” Seina said, both annoyed and amused by her fairy friend’s attention. He was examining her for injuries, making sure everything was okay.

“I’m just worried. I was so scared I’d lost you!” Tears welled in the fairy's eyes.

Moved by her friend’s distress, she gave Colten a hug. “I’m not going anywhere, okay.”

Colten sniffed and nodded. “Yeah, I’m just being silly.”

“That was something. How did you survive that?” Aiko asked. “I’m glad, but I thought your brooch gave you power.”

“Yeah, what happened?” Siena asked.

In the month since they’d first met, he’d been vague about this magical girl business. The fairy only stated he’d arrived from somewhere beyond her universe. He’d mentioned magical girls were common where he came from, but revealed little beyond that tidbit. Seina pressed him for more information, but the fairy was sparse on more details.

“It’s your magic, Seina,” Colten replied. “It protects you even when you aren’t transformed.”

“What happens if she loses the brooch? Will she be vulnerable then?” Aiko asked, curious.

“Nope, it’s part of her soul now,” Colten replied smugly. “She’s a magical girl forever.” Despite this simple explanation, Seina got the distinct impression that was something else her fairy friend wasn’t telling her. What was with these secrets? Did Colten enjoy just being obtuse?

Whatever, she’d press him for more answers later. Seina just wanted to enjoy the walk with her friends. Vampires or other problems could wait. They deserved the peace. Besides, she could handle any trouble that could arise, even if she hadn’t learned how to cast spells with her staff yet. The trio was laughing and joking as they headed back home.

After the fall of the vampires, Seina had taken residency in an apartment building uptown. The new prime minister had insisted that she live with him after multiple assassination attempts. With no other place to go, she’d readily agreed. Seina still wasn’t on speaking terms with her parents. They’d disappeared since the incident in the colosseum. Not that she needed them, anyway. She was a big girl, almost an adult! Besides, she had Colten, she didn’t need anyone else.

“Seina, thank goodness you’re okay.” The guard, Ryo, said. “We heard about the assassination attempt. We’ve been looking for you!”

“I’m fine.” Seina waved a dismissive hand. “I’m not even scratched. Prime Minister Ogawa doesn’t need to worry.”

“No, the Minister insists on seeing you, now.” Ryo pushed Seina towards the elevator leading to the Prime Minister’s office, leaving a waving Aiko behind.

“Seina, it’s so good to see you safe!” Uncle Kenji batted his head with a handkerchief. He wasn’t really her uncle, but she’d known him since childhood, and the nickname stuck. After Lothaire’s fall, people had thrust him into a leadership position, taking advantage of his natural talent. Taking the position hadn’t given him much pleasure, but someone needed to be Prime Minister.

“I’m fine,” Seina said, annoyed. “Like I keep telling everyone.”

“If we ever lost you…” The Prime Minister coughed into his hand, embarrassed. “Well, I suppose you magical girls are tougher than you look. Lothaire learned that the hard way.”

“So, what’s for dinner?” Seina had wanted some ice cream, but Colten had insisted it would ruin her dinner, leaving her starving. “Is it true they’d finally caught some fish?”

The darkness had devastated the earth’s wildlife, not leaving much food for humanity. Still, life persisted, and fishermen had already constructed new boats, hoping to return to their old profession and feed their families.

“That can wait. There’s something I wish to discuss first.” Uncle Kenji said.

“About what?” Colten asked, landing on Seina’s shoulder.

“It worries me every time you leave the safety of this building.” The prime minister sat behind his desk and steepled his fingers. “I realize you’re young and you can’t stay cooped up here. After some consideration, I decided it would be wise to assign you a guardian. Come in.”

Moments later, a scary-looking man with intense, piercing eyes entered the room. His brown hair was wild, and silver earrings pierced both of his ears. A small goatee ordained his face, adding to his rough features. He gave the Prime Minister a bow and studied Seina with interest with those terrifying eyes of his.

“This is Masato Kiyojiro, and he’s going to be your bodyguard.”

The man in question gave a polite bow. “I will protect you with my life.”

Seina gave her own awkward bow. After a moment’s hesitation, she gained the courage to speak her mind. “Um, I don’t need a bodyguard. I’m pretty powerful by myself. Not even a rocket launcher can kill me!” What if he attempted fighting something beyond his ability to beat? He couldn’t really protect her, so she hated putting him to the trouble of watching over her.

“This isn’t only about having someone to protect you. You’re a ten-year-old girl, Seina. You need someone to watch over you, and Kiyojiro is the man.” Kenji replied.

Colten snorted and puffed out his chest in pride. “She doesn’t need a protector. Seina has me!”

“Didn’t you say you’re nine?” The prime minister said, amused by the fairy’s bravado.

“A very mature nine!” Colten shot back.

Seina gave Mr. Kiyojiro a polite bow, who only replied silently with a cold-eyed stare. “I’m sorry, Mr. Kiyojiro, but I don’t think this will work. You’re just, well, a guy. It’s best if I worry about my own protection.”

“Seina, we aren’t arguing this. Kiyojiro is accompanying you from now on.” The Prime Minister’s voice brooked no argument. “And that’s final.”

“But!”

“Seina.” Uncle Kenji’s expression hardened.

“Fine.” Seina looked away, surrendering to the adult’s argument. Still, why this man? The prime minister could have found someone nicer.

Might as well face it now. “Hi, I’m Seina. It’s nice to meet you.” Seina gave her best, winning smile. It did little to improve her bodyguard’s mood, he only gave a slight nod in acknowledgment.

Seina's smile turned awkward, but she wanted to make a good impression.

“This is so dumb!” Colten flew around in circles in agitation. “Well, I suppose it’s nice to have someone around to carry our bags or something.”

The fairy flew into the bodyguard’s face. “But know this. Seina’s protector is me! Got it? We’re partners, after all.”

Mr. Kiyojiro scowled, giving a snort of irritation. Colten quickly flew behind Seina for protection from his magical girl’s thuggish bodyguard. Seina sighed, knowing this change would be difficult to adjust to. She only hoped her new guardian wouldn’t scare her friends away. Her life had enough complications!

“Anyway, I’m famished,” Seina said. “Let’s get something to eat.”

Mr. Kiyojiro nodded. “I’ll prepare something for you. How does curry sound?”

“That would be great,” Seina replied, taken aback.

Truth be told, she’d never eaten curry before. For most of her life, before the sun’s return, Seina had spent her days eating nothing but slop and the occasional rat for a special treat. It was hard to know what exactly she liked with such little experience with actual food. Still, curry sounded interesting, and why not? She’d taste anything once.

“Mr. Kiyojiro is an excellent chef.” Uncle Kenji said in amusement. “It’s one reason I hired him. He isn’t just muscle, you know.”

“Huh, I suppose that somewhat justifies keeping him around,” Colten replied.

---

“So, this is the place? You’re certain?” Takako tilted her head, studying her surroundings. She watched as a couple walked down a park. Despite the park’s dead trees and general ugliness, they held hands, smiling without a care in the world.

“It should be. The universal coordinates are correct.” Nier said, landing on her shoulder. “Something’s not right here. Can’t you feel it?”

“Yeah.” Takako flicked her skull-shaped earrings.

People approached, and she hid behind a tree before they could notice her. These folk dressed in thick overalls, picking up trash, cleaning graffiti, and marking trees they found too hopeless to live. She’d seen people like this all around the city. They were ordinary folk attempting to restore the broken pieces of their lives and repair their broken world. It seemed almost everyone had volunteered to restore the city to its former glory.

“This wasn’t how they described this world to us at all!” Nier’s flying became more erratic as he got frustrated.

“Something huge happened here.” A jogger passed her, each step filled with effort and determination. The general wrongness was making Takako’s stomach queasy. While faint, her senses detected something. A presence that shouldn’t exist.

“We should find the source before this gets worse!” Nier said, and Takako couldn’t agree more.

With a gesture, she returned to normal. Her transformed state would draw unwanted attention. Whatever had caused this radical shift might learn of her existence, and that would be bothersome. Nier flew into her handbag. His head popped out, watching his surroundings with a keen eye. While still flashy, Takako’s outfit wasn’t as noticeable as her magical girl form. Takako briefly considered disguising herself in the local rags but decided against it. She had standards.

With a flick of her hand, a black umbrella plopped open and placed it over her shoulder. The shade it provided was a great comfort. The sun’s rays were almost oppressive as it shined down on them.

“Come, let’s investigate!"

#fiction #anime #anime stories #written story #parody #Starlight Dream #magical girl #humor #vampires #Adventure

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lyrazehedgieboiii · 4 years

Text

Insecurities

Hey guys! SO, I decided to make a one-shot on how Amy’s feeling very stressed, and her feelings on top of that make it harder for her to be happy. How will Sonic feel once he finds out? Let’s GO!!!!

Amy was sitting at Tails’s house, listening to Tails identify his newest invention, and was smiling, as if she were listening, but the only thing she was listening to was her thoughts.

‘Ugh, don’t you have better things to do, Pinky?” her thoughts kept focusing on when she’d get to go. She started going to far in thinking and ended up hurting her own feelings. ‘Yeesh, you’re so weak, no wonder no one likes you.’ Amy widened her eyes, realizing that everyone had their eyes on her.

“Uhm, why is everybody staring at me?” Amy asked, not liking the sudden attention.

“We were asking if we could have dinner at your place?” Sticks said.

“OH. Uhh...o-of course! I’ll go home and start. What does everyone want?”

“CHILI DOGS.” Sonic yelled, kneeling down, begging Amy to make them.

“Eh, I’m fine with whatever you make, Amy.” Sticks said. Amy smiled, not sure whether to take that as a compliment. Amy looked at Tails.

“Cookies for dessert, Tails?” Amy asked, smirking.

“You know me, Amy! You’re chocolate chip cookies are the best things that ever happened to me!” Amy felt tears coming, this was too much for her to take. She ran towards Tails and hugged him, and then hugged Sticks, and Sonic, lingering a bit during his turn. As she was about to turn to Knuckles, Rouge slammed the door open, and bent down to control her breathing.

“Eggman’s...*pant*...attacking...the *pant* village.” Sonic immediately got up, still a bit giddy from Amy’s unexpected sign of affection, and sped off. Rouge, flew by Amy as they all ran. “What’s up with Blue Boy today? He seemed a little excited, did you kiss him?” Rouge asked the petite pink girl.

“OH NO, no, no, No, no, NO Rouge! I just gave him a hug.” Amy exclaimed while blushing.

“But you wish you could more, right?” Rouge said, nudging her elbow at Amy. Amy turned red, trying to hide the fact her heart was hammering. The team made it to the battle scene, finding Eggman in his Eggmobile waiting to introduce his newest robot.

“OH Ho, ho, ho, this robot is sure to get rid of that pesky blue rat!” Eggman laughed evilly, while the villagers just rolled their eyes and watched the fight.

“You keep calling him a ‘pesky blue rat,’ just call him something else! Maybe...,” Lyra stared off into space for a few moments. “DEFORMED PINEAPPLE!” Amy was the only one that giggled. Sonic glared at her. Amy just smirked at him, and sent a blowing kiss. Sonic went giddy and red again.

“Ok, let’s take this from the top. OHOHOHO, THIS ROBOT IS SURE TO GET RID OF YOU, YOU DEFORMED BLUE PINEAPPLE!” Eggman shifted to the side, to reveal a 20 foot tall robot, with lasers, missiles, and shooters on its arms, legs, and head. Everyone went straight for it, Sonic being in the lead. The missiles fired, but were quickly dodged. Then the lasers started firing, and that started to get tough. Along with the crabbots and beebots in the background, it was gonna put up a lot of effort. Knuckles and Tails got blasted away leaving Shadow, Rouge, Amy, Silver, Sonic, and Lyra left. Suddenly a missile was fired, and pushed Rouge aside before exploding. It didn’t cause too much damage to her, but she fell to the ground, caught by Knuckles.

“Come on Hedgie Squad, we can do this!” Lyra said, stabbing the beebots with her scythe.

“Don’t call us that ever again.” Shadow muttered, running towards the back of the robot. That wasn’t a very smart idea, because there were lasers and missiles at the back too. Shadow got blasted, and that only enraged him. He ran faster, but got shot by a laser. He gave up, needing a break. Lyra gave up too, because she just felt lazy. She was cautious though, she didn’t feel like this would end well. Silver, Sonic, and Amy were left. Silver got annoyed with all the unnecessary scrap metal zooming around them and picked them up with his powers, and pushed them all together, and threw them to the side.

While he was doing that, he didn’t notice that Sonic was warning him to get out of the way, and Sonic pushed him, but they both got shot by the laser.

Eggman chuckles. “Looks like Sonic’s whiny little girlfriend is left. Well, that’ll be easy, since she’s so weak and pathetic anyways. I mean come on! The pink brat can easily be thrown off with a laser, or her hurt feelings.” Lyra and Rouge widened their eyes. That wasn’t a good idea...

Amy fell to her knees. She let out a loud sob. She recited every cruel thing that’s ever been told to her. ‘Weak and pathetic.’ ‘Pink brat.’ ‘Those people aren’t your friends, they just feel sorry for you.’ Everyone looked at Amy with surprise. They didn’t know that Amy was getting bullied. Amy stood up, feeling her heart burn with that same weird feeling she had earlier. She couldn’t identify what it was...

Until Sonic muttered.

“Rage.”

Amy’s eyes went dark, along with her quills, and her outfit changed, which surprised Sonic. He was the same when he was in his dark form, he never got a change of wardrobe. Amy however, did. Her dress turned into a dark red halter top, with a high-low skirt, with the back ending just a little below her knees. Her quills became longer, and a blackish aura tinted her vibe.

“I’m sorry Dr. Eggman, what did you say?” Amy asked, floating towards the eggmobile.

“Uh...I’m sorry?” Amy leaned back, and the aura only seemed to deepen.

“YOU LIE! Pathetic old man!” Amy shot some of her negative energy at him, and he disappears into the sky. She summoned her hammer, and it evolved to about 10 feet, and she smashed the robot. It fell back, and then Amy pounded its head.

“Amy?” Amy’s pupils came back, and she looked scared. She turned back to her normal form, and ran off crying. Lyra held Sonic from catching up to her.

“Give her a few minutes, bro. Then go.”

Meanwhile, Amy was in her room sobbing, her thoughts keeping her up in a bubble. She didn’t know how it started, but wanted it to stop. She couldn’t help how she felt, but it only hurt her more. She heard a knock on the door, but ignored it. She heard the door open, and she dashed into her closet, and hid under the clothes.

“Ames, I know you’re in the closet, open up!” Sonic yelled from the other side.

“And what if I were changing?” Amy asked, in quite a harsh tone. “I-I’m so sorry, Sonic. I-I don’t k-know what’s happening to me!” Amy let out a sob.

“Amy. Just open the door and talk to me. Please.” Amy thought that his tone was a bit strange. It almost sounded as if he were...begging her to open the door. She got up, and slowly opened the door. “Thank Chaos, I thought you’d never come out.” Sonic wrapped his arms around Amy, and sat on her bed with him. “Now, tell Doctor Sonic what’s wrong.” Amy put her head on his lap, and he stroked her quills.

“Well, it started a few months ago. I was walking through the village, going to a local mall, and I heard some teens talking trash about m-me. You know how I am when that happens, right?” Sonic nodded. He knew what it was like under the wrath of Amy Rose. “I hit th-them with my hammer, and they literally started crying. Those weird feelings kept my brain occupied for some reason.”

“Don’t worry, Amy. Just be ha-” Sonic was cut off by Amy’s growl.

“Don’t tell me to be happy, Sonic the Hedgehog, don’t you think I already tried that?!” Amy sobbed. Sonic hated the fact that she was depressed. He would do anything to see her smile. He pulled her up, and hugged her.

“I want you to be happy, so what can I do?” Sonic pulled back just a little, to tuck a loose quill out of her face.

“Well, you can kiss me, take me out on a date, marry me, have about seven children, I don’t mind more. You can-” This time, Sonic was the one to cut off Amy. However, it wasn’t with a comment. It was with a kiss. Amy immediately kissed back. Sonic used tongue in this kiss, and that excited specific parts of Amy’s body.

“Sorry Ames. Only one at a time, you’re only 16! Chaos.” Amy pouted. “Okay, two things.You are officially now my girlfriend.” Amy smiled, and squeezed the living daylights out of her new-found boyfriend.

Sonic wrapped Amy’s hair around in his finger. “I see your quills are still long from that, incident.” Amy giggled a little.

“I don’t think I want to cut it.”

“And I don’t mind that at all. But, next time, can’t you tell us what’s eating you.”

“Why do I have to acknowledge that you’re eating me?” Amy joked. Yes, she intended the joke to sound a bit...dirty.

“Oh my CHAOS, Amy! Way to get a man’s hormonal drive up to 130%!” Sonic said, putting his hand to his heart, acting all dramatic.

“Wow. How was it so easy to confess to me?” Amy asked, while smirking.

“I never confessed! But here it is! I...I-I l-love...you...” Sonic barely said it all out. Kind of hard to explain feelings when you’re ego is the size of an Olympic Swimming Pool. His ego would probably die there, anyways.

“IT’S ABOUT TIME, GOD, I THOUGHT AMY WOULD END UP WITH SOMEONE ELSE!” The couple turned around, to find the whole team standing at the door. Lyra was recording with a camcorder, a digital camera, and her phone. She even set up a tripod. Knuckles was the one who yelled, just wanted to let you know. Suddenly, Sonic felt warmth on his ear.

“I love you too. Good job on recognizing your feelings for once.” Amy winked at him and left the room.

WOW WAS THIS LATE. Sorry for posting this a bit late. I started this on Wednesday, but somehow completed this Sunday night. It’s weird because I usually spend fifteen minutes writing a oneshot, but writing this was a bit difficult, because I’m not one to insult Amy Rose. I LOVE HER TOO MUCH SHE’S MY FAVORITE SONIC CHARACTER!!!!!!!!!! I’m very tired because my bed is so fricking hard.

#insecure #sonamy boom #sonamy #sonamy fanfiction #lyra ze hedgie boiii #oneshot #sonamy love #romance #secure #rouge the bat #best friends are the best #besties #this was very late #baby im sorry #posted late #not edited well

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sweets-fanfics · 5 years

Text

Homecoming 10

Title: Peacemakers

Wordcount: 2425

Warnings: Violence, and sweet sweet revenge.

Tags: @rollyjogerjones

Remember to let me know if you want to be tagged.

-----

Bear licking your nose is how you awoke the next morning. You scrunched your nose up and hugged him close to you. “You okay?” You ask him half asleep. You can hear him sniffing your face making you open your eyes.

You scratch his head as you sit up and stretch. You knew what you were going to do today. Bear sat up and looked at you with his head cocked to the side. “I gotta do somethin’ tough today. I can’t bring you with me but you’ll wish me luck right?”

Bear puts his paws on your chest and licks your nose. “I’ll take that as a yes.” You pick him up and place him on the ground. “Let’s get some food.” You slip your boots on and walk out with the little brown pup flopping along behind you.

“Good morning Pearson.” You say as you grab a bread roll.

“Morning!” He looks down at Bear and cuts off a tiny lump of meat he had been cutting and tossed it towards Bear.

“Thank you, Pearson.” You smile and walk towards Suzie.

You pat her softly as you eat the bread with your free hand. Bear lets out a small bark making you look over your shoulder. Arthur is walking up to you with a strained look on his face.

“You’re already going?” He asked as he got you.

“Yeah… I want to get it down now…” You looked down for a moment half expecting him to tell you to wait.

Instead, he lifted your chin softly and placed a long kiss on your lips. “You teach that bastard a lesson.” You smile as he helps you on to your horse. “I’ll be nearby. Shoot in the air three times if ya need any help.”

“I will, can you ask Henry to watch Bear?”

“Of course… Y/N I love you.”

“I love you too.”

---------

As you road into Rhodes, you knew the best place to check first would be the saloon. The scent you still can’t get out of your mind is how that monster smelt like beer and whiskey.

You walked into the bar with your pistol drawn. You glanced around as you walked up to the bartender. “I’m looking for someone.” You say in a stern voice.

“You a bounty hunter?” He asked without looking up from the glass he was cleaning.

“Yeah, anyone here by the name of David Santiago?”

The man finally looked up at you. He looked at you suspiciously. “He’s one of my regulars. What’s his crime?”

“Rape.” You said in a flat voice.

“That’s quite a serious charge. Do ya have proof?”

You aim your pistol at the bartender. “I’m proof. Where the fuck is he?”

The bartender put his hands up quickly while his eyes bugged out of his head. “He... He’s upstairs. He sits at the game table all day.”

“Thank you.” You say sweetly and head up the stairs. You stomp your feet a bit so you’re able to get some muddy footprints on the carpet.

That’s when you see him. He’s sitting at the game table as the man had said. He seems invested in his game but when he sees you he grins and stands up opening his arms.

“I knew you enjoyed it.” He cheers.

For a moment you are too afraid to move. A flood of memories of him attacking you makes you wanna turn and run. But then that new anger you have been feeling rises up and you feel like a completely different person. You raise your pistol as you click back the hammer. His eyes go wide as he starts to back up.

“David Santiago. I’m here for somethin’.” You announce as you walk up to him and push him onto the balcony.

He raises his hands up and seems to start begging. Sweat is dripping down his face as you aim the gun at his head. “Please. Please, no. I’m sorry. You didn’t say no though.”

“I said no!” You snapped, starting to see red. “I said no over and over to the point that you knocked me out so you wouldn’t have to hear it.” You had the gun pressed to his chin as he leaned back over the railing.

You heard a gun click behind you. When you glanced you one of his friends aiming a gun at you. “How about you calm down you little whore. You’re just mad cause he didn’t pay ya.”

Before you had a chance to rip that guy a new one Arthur’s pistol slowly pressed against his head. “How about you don’t call her names. Let her and ya friend there have a nice chat.”

You turned your focus back to David. “Now tell me again what you were sayin’?” You ask kindly.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I should have stopped.” He was crying. You glanced at him as he acted pathetically. That’s when you noticed the pee mark on his pants.

“Seems you are understandin’ how I felt that night. Maybe I should when it felt like physically.” And before he could beg again you fired your gun. Blood and brain splattered on you as his body went limp and fell over the railing landing in a heap below.

You took a handkerchief from your pocket and wiped your face off. When you turned around everyone in the saloon was staring at you. Even Arthur looked a bit shocked.

“You all got a starin’ problem?” You ask scaring everyone back to their business.

The man that had aimed a gun at you had ran down to the monster’s body. Arthur walked up and placed both hands on your shoulder.

“Ya good?” He asks as you take a deep breath trying to calm down.

“I think so…” You look up at him as he took the cloth in your hand and finished wiping your face. “I think I wanna go…”

Arthur put an arm comfortably around your waist and led you out of the saloon. He walked you to Suzie and helped you up. “I want you to head to camp, I have to do another stupid thing for your father and go to the post office, and then I’ll come back to ya.” You grabbed his hand and squeezed it. He smiled at you and kissed your hand. “I’m so damn proud of you.”

-------------

When you hitched Suzie back at camp Dutch and Hosea were already walking up to you. You sighed a bit but turned towards them.

“Well?” Dutch asked. You could see him struggling to keep his anger low.

“It’s taken care of.”

Both men seem to let out a sigh of relief. Dutch pulls you close and hugs you tightly. “I’m proud of you, Y/N.” He says in your ear.

You pull back and smile at him, “Thank you Pa.” You notice it seems he is leaving. “Where are ya going’ though?” You ask him.

“Going to try to suck up to the Greys with Arthur and Bill,” He whistles and the count trots up to him. “Hosea make sure Miss Grimshaw isn’t too hard on our girl today.”

“You got nothin’ to worry about Dutch,” Hosea waves.

You and Hosea stand and wave until he’s out of sight.

“You give it to him?” Hosea asks still smiling and waving.

“I shot him in the head in front of his friends at the saloon he frequents.” You turned to look at him.

“Ah, it seems you got the anger your father has.” He pats your shoulder as the two of you walk into camp.

“Is that good or bad?” You ask as you grab a plate of stew.

“Depends on the situation.”

-------------

You ended up trying to train Bear. He got sit down but just seemed to want to play after. Micah walked up and kicked Cain that had been sitting nearby. “Beat it ya parasite!”

“What the hell is your problem?” You ask standing up from your spot on the ground.

“We already got so many damn mouths to feed. Why do we have to add two more mutts to the mess.” He gets up in your face but you don’t stand down.

“You are absolutely right Mr. Bell. You should go first.” You say through your teeth.

“Little fireball, huh?” He puts his hands on his sides. “Though your little accident in the Bayou woulda’ taught you enough of a lesson.”

You take your knife out and start to go for him when two hands pull you back. “Say that again you dirty rat.” You threaten.

“Y/N, please calm down,” Henry asks patting your shoulder.

“Your brother is right,” Arthur says as he helps Henry push you back. You seemed to be putting up a fight by how much they were struggling. “Micah ain’t worth a bullet. They are way too expensive so you should save them for better things.”

Bear is in front of you growling at Micah. “Bear, down.” You order. Your puppy instantly turns to you with his tail wagging.

“Ah, cowpoke your here. I need to speak with you and Dutch.” Micah says as if Arthur and Henry weren’t fighting to keep you off of him.

“What could be so important?”

“Blessed are the Peacemakers.” Micah says with his hands up, “Or it goes somethin’ like that.”

You roll your eyes and go to sit in Arthur’s tent to try and calm down. Henry looks at you confused. “Why not go to your tent?” He asks.

“I’d have to pass Micah’s bed and I’m not sure I’d be able to not throw it in the lake.” You grumble and give Micah one last dirty look as he talks to Arthur, your father and, Pearson.

You notice he keeps calling Pearson ‘fat man’ which just ticks you off even more. But when you hear what they are saying you get even more annoyed.

“Peace with the O’Driscols!” Dutch says in disbelief. You stand up and go lean against the table next to Hosea who is sitting at it reading.

“They want to meet for a parle.” Pearson urges.

“They want to meet?” Hosea asks.

“It’s a trap,” Both you and Hosea say together.

“Of course it’s a trap,” Micah exclaims. “But it wouldn’t hurt to see if it’s not what do we have to lose?”

“They could shoot us?” You say earning you a side-eye from Micah.

“This is a man’s duty, princess.” He teases.

“No, if you are going to meet him I want in.”

“No,” Arthur, Dutch, Hosea, and Henry all say in unison.

“Oh come on.” You groan. “I’m a great shot.”

“Mr. Morgan should be our back up,” Micah suggests. “We leave the kids here.”

“Father I would like to go,” Henry says which earns him a smile from Dutch.

“Of course, my boy,” Dutch says patting Henry’s shoulder and heading towards the Horses.

“Henry doesn’t even know how to load a gun let alone shoot one.” You stomp your foot.

“Shut it, Y/N. Mr. Bell has been teaching me in his free time,” Henry explains as he climbs onto Lightning.

“He’s a great student. Too bad your sister ain’t.” Micah rolls his eyes.

Before you have a chance to snap Arthur pulls you to his tent while he grabs some things.

“My love,” Arthur says softly so only you hear. “Please stay, it’ll give me some damn peace of mind if I know you’re here.”

“I could really be helpful,” You sigh.

“Oh, I know you could. But Micah will do nothin’ but annoy you, and your Father and Brother will be worrying too much about you to pay attention.” He holds your face in his hands and kisses your forehead, nose, and finally a long passionate kiss on the lips. “To make it even how about you sleep in my tent with Bear and you can have my big cot all to yourself.”

Damn, Arthur knew your weakness. His cot was wider than yours. You always found it just a bit more comfortable. “I’m... worried.”

“I know,” He sits you on his cot and gives your forehead one more kiss before pulling away. “I love you.” He says as he starts to leave.

“I love you too.”

As the night drew on you began to feel tired. You collected Bear in your arms and laid back in Arthur’s cot. Before you realized it you had completely drifted off to sleep.

--------------

You woke up to the sounds of horses thundering into camp. You peaked out of Arthur’s tent but only saw three bodies shadowed in the darkness. “Pa?” You ask recognizing his silhouette.

“My dear, You should sleep…” He says. You can tell something is wrong.

“What happened?” He gets close enough so you can see his face. “Oh god, what happened? Is Henry okay?”

“Henry is fine, he already went back to his tent.”

“Then what’s wrong? Did somethin’ happen to Micah? He probably had it comin’,”

“It’s not Micah…” Dutch looked down at you with sad eyes.

“What…? How… I thought he was hidden?”

“We couldn’t find him.” He mumbled.

You turned around and started sliding your boots on. “Now hold on, Y/N. Let’s gather our thoughts and make a plan.”

“A plan?” You look at him in disbelief, “From what I gathered you didn’t seem to have a plan when I was taken.”

“We don’t know if he was taken. Maybe he just made a stop somewhere.”

“He would have said somethin’.” You could feel that new anger of your growing again. You stopped yourself and tried to take a long breath to calm down. “Pa… I… have really strong feelings for him.” You admit to him.

He seemed a bit ticked off. Perhaps he thought it was a fling that would burn out. “How do you mean?”

You looked up at your father, “I love him. And before you say it’s too soon, don’t I’ve had enough bad past experience to know when it’s different.”

Dutch threw his hands up, “But an Outlaw? I wanted more than that for you.”

“Mother loved an outlaw.”

“Your mother was an outlaw.”

“So am I now, I just shot a man in the middle of a damn town. Two towns, in fact, thanks to you.” He looked a bit hurt so you sighed, “I’m sorry, I’m worried about Arthur. I won’t do anythin’ dangerous. I’m just gonna ride around and see if I find him.” Before he could tell you no you climbed onto Suzie and rode off.

#rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 fandom #rdr #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #micah bell #revenge #dutch van der linde #dutch x Daughter!reader #hosea mathews

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mylittleotomecorner · 5 years

Text

Rainy Day Care Lucien x MC Rating: aww

I finally leave the office. We’ve been pulling late nights to get the proposals done for the next project and finished with little time to spare. Kiki and Willow wanted to get drinks, Minor insisting he check my drinks like last time, but I had to turn them down. I wanted to go home, relax and refresh myself before the next proposal meeting. Walking home, I planned to stop at the store and get a few things to fix for a quick dinner. The air was crisp and the night was calm… until something hit my forehead.

“Huh?” I look up and a few raindrops hit me as drizzle slowly began to fall. I walked briskly to the store and make it inside just before the downpour came. Sighing as I looked outside, I muttered, “There wasn’t any forecast for rain…” With nothing else to do, I grab a shopping basket and wander the store for the things I wanted for dinner.

Once I have all I need, I looked around to see if there were any umbrellas for sale. When asked, the clerk said they ran out and I was left to wonder how long I would have to wait. Paying for my items, I decided to wait outside and see if the rain will lighten up enough to walk home.

The awning was large enough and a few others waited as well. The clerk said we could wait inside if we got cold. Time passed, the other people waiting eventually left to take their chances or found friends that so happened to pass by. I heave a heavy sigh. “At this rate, I’ll never get home…”

“[___], are you waiting for someone?” Turning to the voice that spoke to me, there was Lucien holding an umbrella and a look of gentle concern.

I must look like a wet rat to him. Looking me over, it felt like he must. “I didn’t know it was going to rain so I didn’t bring an umbrella. I was just on my way home.”

“And you went grocery shopping hoping it will stop?” I nodded, feeling pretty pathetic. I’m sure I look it. But all I got from Lucien was a smile and an offered hand. “Let me to take you home and carry your things.”

“Thank you, Lucien. I’ll be okay carrying them while we walk.” I smile as I join him under the umbrella.

Still with that smile, he wrapped a warm arm around my shoulders. “I suppose this will have to do. I didn’t realize it might be a tight fit under here since I don’t walk with anyone in the rain. Maybe that might change. I hope you don’t mind.” I can feel the flush rise on my cheeks and I shook my head no, too afraid my heart might jump out of my throat. I didn’t have to look up to know his smile was there shining down on me as he held me close to him the whole way home. I was grateful for the warmth as I didn’t realize how cold I was. I hope he didn’t notice the shivering as I shifted the bags in my hands.

“I must be lucky that you’re living right next door,” I say as we reach our floor.

“Yes, though, I won’t always be there to take you home.” Lucien sounded worried as he took his keys out. “Why don’t you join me for some tea. Maybe we can even share dinner? I just want to make sure you didn’t catch cold after getting caught in the rain.”

“Oh, it’s okay, really,” I say in objection. “I feel fi-choo!” I sniffles and rub my nose.

A hand goes to my forehead and more concern grows on Lucien’s face. “You’re burning up a little. Come in. No arguments.”

Darn, I just had to make myself a burden. Obeying, I enter his apartment as I hold my bags in both hands. It’s still the same as I last saw it, hardly lived in since he’s always away at the lab working on some research project. Lucien closed the door and took my bags. “I think we can save these for another time. I’ll order us something.”

“Really, I-“ A slender finger was placed on my lips and my wide eyes went to the owner. His smile was one of comfort and gentleness.

“No arguments, remember?” That look made me feel so safe somehow and I merely nodded. He then went and placed my groceries in his fridge and took his mobile to order takeout. He looked up and frowned. “You need a hot bath and a change of clothes.”

I forgot my clothes had gotten damp from the rain and look at them. “They seem okay. I could just-“

“I’ll draw you a bath and give you some spare clothes. It’s no trouble.” There he goes, to draw a bath and get me clothes. Wait… spare clothes… his clothes?! What about my damp ones?! I’m mortified and embarrassed and other things mixed into one moment. How could this have happened to me…

*****

Freshly bathed, I feel really embarrassed to have to wear a man’s large shirt as a gown. The sweatpants he gave me were so long, I had to roll the cuffs up. It made me feel like a little kid. Lucien is somewhere on his phone. I can hear him talking to someone so I’m left to take a seat on the couch. Somehow, the need to hug a pillow was there. I grab a throw pillow and held it in my arms.

“That is one lucky pillow.” Lucien had come over with a blanket in his arms. “If only to know how that pillow feels…” How can he say that with that smile of his? My cheeks flamed up and I try to hide behind the pillow. I even tried tucking my legs under, feeling greatly exposed. “Here, this will be much warmer than that pillow. It’s just a simple throw, but I can get you something heavier if you’re feeling cold.” He held it open and it was big enough for two people.

“What about you? Will you be alright? Were you in the rain long?” I couldn’t help but worry that if I was caught in the rain that he was as well. I took the blanket, trying not to shiver despite the warm bath I took. But, our hands grazed each other so he must have felt how cold my fingers were. His were exceptionally icy so that made me even more worried.

“Oh, don’t worry about me. Let’s just get you settled in. Food should be here soon.” No sooner was the throw on my lap did the doorbell rang. “That should be it now.” He went to answer the door and returned with a large bag of takeout. He moved the coffee table closer and set the bag down. Out came containers of soup and dumplings. “I figured you would want something simple and maybe got a little hungry?”

My stomach replied with a loud growl just as I opened my mouth. I snapped my mouth shut and wished I could be swallowed up by the cough. All Lucien did was chuckle lightly and take out more dumplings. How does this man know how to take care of me? “I’ll have to repay you for all this food.”

“Nonsense,” he said once everything was set. “I’m just happy to have a meal with you.”

I smile, now not sure if I have a fever or feel embarrassed that this is seeming like a date. Shifting so I can have my soup, I blurt out, “This kinda feels like a date.”

Lucien was passing a container of dumplings my way, that smile ever present on his lips as he set the container before me. “A date? Hmmm, I’ll have to get you flowers next time I take you home for dinner then.” The hot soup was as good a cover as I was going to get as I avoided looking at the scientist neighbor and try to determine how to feel about all these comments. Again, he chuckles. “You look adorable,” he said before sipping his own container of soup. “Had I known you could make my clothes look so cute, I might hope you’d get caught in the rain more.”

“Huh?” Did I hear him right? Not paying attention, I burn my lip on the hot broth. “Ah, hot…”

“Here, let me cool that off for you.” Lucien took the spoon from me and moved to sit closer, practically shoulder to shoulder with the professor. He scooped up the broth and blew on it, steam being blown away. “Here,” the spoon was brought close to my mouth and I froze, looking between spoon and wielded. “You need your strength. You won’t have this opportunity to be fed by a world renowned professor, after all.” Knowing he would say I couldn’t take care of myself, I caved in and allowed Lucien to feed me. All the while, he wore that worried smile. “So cute,” he muttered. I blamed the soup for my face feeling so hot.

The rest of the night was spent watching movies on Lucien’s tablet until I fell asleep. I think I protested staying the night but all I remember was feeling lifted into the air before I lost consciousness.

**********

Lucien had made sure the movie they watched was something [___] liked. He honestly didn’t know since he never had time to even think about dating. His life was spent with his work. But there was something about her that made him think outside his usual boundaries. Somehow, he felt the desire to keep her safe.

When he saw her outside, taking shelter from the rain, he knew right away that she was so focused on her own work that she didn’t think to get an umbrella. As she began to doze, Lucien brushed hair from her brow as she leaned slightly against him. Soft fringes fell against warm skin as he felt her forehead. “Hmm, you’re burning up,”

The only reaction he got was a slight shift and a sigh. The movie had been playing all this time, but no one was paying attention to it. The person it was meant for has fallen asleep and the person that provided it was more interested in watching the other sleep peacefully.

Before the movie was over, Lucien carefully lifted [___] into his arms as if she were as light as a doll and carried her into the bedroom. There, she was placed on the bed and tucked in for the night. He left her there, door ajar, and returned to the living room where he closed the movie app and opened some research material. It would be a long night and he wanted to make sure he was awake in case she needed him again.

#mlqc #mlqc lucien #mr love lucien #mr love queen's choice #mr. love queen's choice #mlqc fanfic

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isthisthingeven0n · 6 years

Text

slow burn - part three : d.d

brief summary: you and david cannot stand each other, at all. he is the complete opposite to you, but when you have no choice but to be in his company for 48 hours things get a bit more complicated…

part one / part two

yes it has taken me a stupidly long time to actually get round to writing this so apologies about that. but also I’ll be honest and say my inspiration had been super low in feb and hopefully it is now returning so I should be able to get the second part to you aren’t you done soon. but my requests are now open so flood ‘em.

* masterlist *

Opening my eyes I groan lightly and reach over for my phone.

As I pat the table I struggle to find it. Instead, there’s a clock, a charger, a pack of gum?

“Wait, what?” I mumble as I allow my eyes to adjust to the darkness, as opposed to my pathetic curtains that are practically see through.

Looking around I recognise the room, the one I’ve never been in.

And then it starts to replay in my head. I follow the trail of clothes, the crumpled bed sheets and the fact that I’m in my underwear. “Oh fuck.” I groan quietly as I turn to see a sleeping figure beside me.

I prod him lightly and his hand flies up, wafting me away as he murmurs. Sighing I prod him again, this time more forcefully. “Seriously, just let me sle- WHAT THE FUCK?!” He yells as he lifts the duvet over himself, leaving me exposed in my bra.

“How, I mean, when did we end up here?” I ask as I rub my temples, the hangover that is kicking in beginning to torture me. Pulling back on the duvet I glance down before quickly averting my eyes back up. “Ah,” I whistle as David looks down and groans loudly. “so, we had sex.”

“Looks like it.” He says softly, his eyes staring straight ahead at the wall, refusing to budge to even face me.

“Well,” Muttering under my breath I stand up, picking up my jeans as I slip back into them. “wasn’t bad, but I’m going to get some food and sleep this hangover out on the sofa.” I head out of the room, refusing to turn around and face him.

Lying on the sofa I fiddle with my phone, contemplating whether or not I should tell Natalie.

I wonder if she’d be surprised? If she would expect it as cliche as it is.

Sighing I lock my phone and close my eyes, “You in here?” I force myself upright, seeing David shyly enter the room with his laptop in hand. “Can we talk?”

Nodding I cross my legs as he sits down in front of me, leaving his laptop on the coffee table, mid editing, as always. “So, last night?” I start and he gulps lightly.

“Yeah, about that.” He begins and I know I’m setting myself up for something. He’ll immediately tell me it was a stupid mistake, beating me to admitting it myself. “I was surprised.”

Furrowing my eyebrows I blankly stare back at him. “Surprised?” I question as I scan his deep brown eyes for a hint of humour, that he’s merely messing with me about this, but for once there’s nothing underlying. “I mean, not what I was expecting you to say, but okay.” Muttering under my breath I hear him let out a dry laugh.

“Yeah, I didn’t anticipate it either, Y/n. But, what now?” He fiddles with the sleeves of his hoodie as I shrug my shoulders, still unable to catch his gaze for more than a few seconds at a time without feeling a blush rising to my cheeks.

“I don’t know, I mean we still have another seventeen hours in here.” I sigh loudly before collapsing backwards in a dramatic fashion. “Is postmates against the rules?”

David groans loudly, “I hope not, I’m starving I haven’t eaten all day.”

“You seemed pretty full last night.” I think aloud and he splutters his drink, proceeding to cough some of it up before smiling over at me.

“Fair point, Y/n. I’ll see if anyone is around to get us food.”

Emerging from the bathroom I rub the towel through my hair and pause at the sound of another voice, another person to be around at long last.

I hover around the corner as I hear David sigh loudly. “I don’t know, Todd. This is weird like, I thought she hated me and then we just opened up last night.” Pausing I lean closer, wanting to hear more without being detected. “And she is this really great girl and I didn’t ever expect that to happen, not with her but now it has and I want to learn more.”

A smile plays on my lips as I glance back at my reflection in the bathroom, suddenly overly aware that I resemble a drowned rat. Staring at my reflection I can vaguely hear Todd talking back to David and I let out a heavy sigh before brushing my hair out of my face and head into the room as if I am oblivious to it all.

“Hey, Todd.” I smile as my eyes widen at the sight of the food. “Oh my god, I love you.” I laugh as I hug him tightly before sitting down and picking up a burrito. “Scrap that I love this burrito.”

David smiles over at me as he picks at his salad bowl and I glance over, seeing Todd with a similar smile. “I should get going. I was told not to hang out here long.” Todd rises to his feet before taking out his phone. “Smile kids gotta let Natalie know you’re still alive.”

We both smile brightly from opposite sofas, the table between us covered in food as Todd heads out. “Bye!” I call out and watch as David rises to his feet, heading towards the doorway.

“Thanks, man.” I hear him mutter to Todd before the front door shuts, leaving us alone once again with newfound information obtained.

As David reappears he sits down on the floor opposite me and I tilt my head, letting out a small sigh. “So, you think I’m a great girl, huh?”

He coughs loudly, hitting his chest as he swallows the salad in his mouth and I lean back, waiting for him to breathe again. “I, erm, what?” He clears his throat, glancing up at me with wide eyes.

“You know, your house is a pretty open space.” I joke and lean forward, resting my elbows on the table as I smile sweetly to him. “It’s okay, David. I thought it was quite sweet.”

“I mean, it is true.” He states nonchalantly and I raise an eyebrow. “What? Why would you be surprised I mean, look at you.” I glance down at myself, an old oversized jumper I keep in Natalie's room and my leggings as my hair is still drying and there is definitely black clinging under my eyes.

“Yeah, I’m a real beauty.” I sarcastically comment and David rolls his eyes.

“Okay, but beneath that you’re amazing. You’re this loving person who cares about her friends, defends their corner when need be and actually wants to do well in life.” The compliments ream off and I sit, slightly shocked.

“How long have you been storing that?” I question and he shrugs his shoulders.

“Probably since we first met and you were with that douche.” He mutters and I mentally have a light bulb moment.

“Now it makes sense.” I state and David raises an eyebrow to me. “You hated me because I wasn’t single? And I hated you because you never spoke to me or made me feel welcome.” Nodding to myself a small scoff follows. “Wow, we should’ve had sex sooner.” I joke and David nods.

“I mean, no reason we can’t now.” He suggests and I roll my eyes.

“I’m hungry, maybe later.”

“So,” David starts and shuffles on the spot. “maybe this hasn’t been such a bad experience after all?” He questions and hesitantly I nod in response.

“Yeah, it’s been pretty eye opening being trapped with someone who insults you all the time.” I look up, catching a smile on his lips as he rubs them together. “I mean, what happens when we’re free?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs his shoulders. “I could take you on an actual date?” He sits upright now, no longer slouching after the proposition.

“Why not.” I nod as I continue eating my burrito. “Sounds like a plan.”

Yawning loudly I glance down at my phone, eight hours left.

“Wanna watch a movie?” David asks as he walks into the living room with a few blankets and cushions.

“You read my mind.” I speak through a yawn and he chuckles softly.

“You’re cute when you’re tired.” He mutters before moving closer and collapsing on the sofa, patting the spot beside him for me to join him.

Curling up into David he begins to play a movie, but my eyes increasingly get heavier as the minutes pass until I’m turning around, burying my head into his warm chest. “G’night David.” I mumble as his hand rests on my waist, pulling me closer into him.

“Night, Y/n.” His lips lightly brush my forehead and I smile to myself, finally allowing my body to ease into his.

Neither of us moves at the sound of the door opening.

“Oh wow.” My eyes remain closed as I feel David’s grip on me tighten. “How?” Zane chuckles to himself and I smile into David’s chest, feeling his heart beating a little bit faster.

“Leave ‘em be.” I hear Natalie state to Zane as they move through the house. “I knew it would happen, they just had to realise it.”

“Wanna find me someone who can be locked in with me for forty-eight hours?” Zane asks and I hear Natalie groan through the house.

Lifting my head up I’m met by David’s deep brown eyes, the warmth radiating through them spreading across my entire body. “Hey,” He mutters as he leans down, kissing me softly. “guess times up.”

I curl closer to him. “Not if I can help it.”

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