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ijwrsmff · 3 years

Note

Hello there

This one is a bit lengthy but can i please get headcanons of the straw hats reaction to an admiral reader(gender neutral please) who quits the marine to join them, and is at first is distrusted but does something to gain theirs trust

I hope it's not too much trouble

It's no trouble at all! I really like this idea, it was a ton of fun to write! I hope you enjoy it ^^

Luffy:

He found you during a fight with the marines

He noticed...you were so much stronger than the marines you were fighting with

Maybe not strong in comparison to Luffy...but he was extremely powerful so comparing to him isn’t fair

He saw you deal what should have been a finishing blow to his crewmates…

But for some reason you never hit them hard enough to kill them

Down them, sure...but never kill

He makes quick work of the other marines, and approaches you with a smile

“Join my crew!”

You looked at him baffled

“Quit the marines and throw away all my hard work to become an admiral because some...kid thinks I would be a good match for his crew? No thanks.”

Luffy left it at that, but knew he’d see you again soon

You encountered him once more at a nearby island

“Is...is that offer still on the table?”

He grinned wide and pulled you by your hand to his ship

He couldn’t put his finger on it...but something was special about you

He just knew the crew would love you

After they get over their initial distrust that is

But Luffy? He trusted you already

No hesitation, he knew you had a good heart and that’s what really mattered

Zoro:

He didn’t trust you...at all

He would go silent when you talked to him, giving you the silent treatment

He didn’t trust the marines...how was he supposed to know you weren’t there as a spy?

You tried to talk to him a couple times...but he just pretended he was sleeping

One day, he was up in the crow’s nest training and you walked in

“Mind if we spar? It’s been a while since I was able to.”

Since you left the marines

He huffed but gave a firm “sure”

He didn’t go easy on you, which surprised him when you handled yourself fairly well

You parried his attacks, and gave a few good jabs of your own

He respected your strength

He still won...but he expected to beat you within seconds

Not minutes, nearly half an hour of sparring

From then on, he’ll make small talk with you

Every once in a while he’ll go to take a nap and he’ll pull you down to lay beside him

He also sits next to you at the dinner table, even helping you fend off Luffy when he tries to steal your food

Overall...he respected strength. And if Luffy chose you...you were here to stay

Once he starts to trust you, he’ll protect you at all costs

Nami:

She trusts Luffy’s decision...but that doesn't mean she has to trust YOU

She won’t go out of her way to be mean...but she won’t help you if it means bending over backwards

She interrogates you, wanting to know why Luffy had chosen you

After days of interrogation on and off...she thinks she sees why

You were unhappy in the marines

Sure...you managed to become an admiral...but the happiness you had hoped to feel just wasn’t there

She discovered that in the short time you’ve been on this ship, you’ve felt happier than you ever did in the marines

She’ll be nicer after that, slowly building up her trust in you

“Want me to show you how I chart the islands we go to?”

Even if cartography wasn’t your thing, you figured it would help get you closer to Nami

After that, you would spend hours upon hours with Nami

She can be very...very protective

So once she trusts you, any comments about you that weren’t warranted she’d defend you

She wants to get closer to you, and spends the majority of her time with you

Either sitting on the deck or working on her maps

She even tells Sanji off if he starts to bother you, making the hearts in his eyes break

She’ll protect you...and she knows in her heart you’d protect her too

Usopp:

He is so...so scared of you at first

You were an ADMIRAL

How could you just give up that position to join a crew?

Doesn’t trust you for a good long while

He’s convinced you’re a spy

He lets his imagination get to him, and that drives a wedge between you two

You don’t blame him...the situation is sketchy, but you were genuine

You would spend all the time needed to get the crew to trust you

After only being with them a short period of time...you trusted them with your life

And that’s never happened before

In the marines...people wouldn’t go out of their way to save another if it meant getting hurt in the process

During battle, you stepped in front of Usopp and took a harsh blow, forming a long slash across your chest

After that...he’s significantly nicer to you

He visits you in the infirmary and looks...troubled

“What’s wrong Usopp?” You give him a concerned look

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you save me...you’re hurt now. Because of me.”

You smiled at him...so he did care

This was a good first step

Maybe eventually you can become even closer

Sanji:

He’s reluctant to trust you at first, but Luffy seems to see something in you…

Just like he saw something in him

So he tries to get closer to you, even going so far as to not flirt with you

Not until he got to know you better

The first time he really began to see the trust between you building was a regular day

Nothing particularly special about it, except you went into the kitchen while he was cooking

“Mind if I help?” It was your attempt to get closer to him

“Of course! Here, I need this mixed.”

You cooked together in relative silence, small talking every once in a while

Overall it was...nice

It was a bonding experience and he cherished it

That day, he sat next to you at the dinner table

You gave him a wide smile, which he returned

He would defend you to anyone who spoke ill of you after that

He could be quite protective, and it showed

Especially to Zoro, who made comments about your being a spy (which only made Usopp and Chopper panic more about the situation)

“Hey marimo! They don’t deserve the bullshit you’re throwing at them. Back off.”

“What are you gonna do about it, shitty cook?” A smirk formed on Zoro’s face

Oh dear...it looks like they’re fighting again

You went to speak up, but Nami stopped you

“They get like this sometimes. Though it’s impressive how quick Sanji was to take the bait this time...I think he likes you.” She gives you a wink and your face flushes

Who knows what the future will bring...all you know? Is that you made the right choice to join this crew

Chopper:

He wants to trust you...he really does

But the nagging fear of you hurting his crew is at the back of him mind

He avoids you, not wanting to risk getting hurt

Once you get injured in battle...he realizes how unfair it was that he did so

“I’m sorry y/n...you’re hurt. Please follow me to the infirmary.”

He keeps it relatively formal, only talking when he needed to do something to check on you

“Would you...come back in a couple days so I can check on the wound and how it’s healing?”

You gave him a smile “yes doctor! Thank you!”

“Hehe you don’t have to thank me I don’t deserve your thanks I was just doing what I’d do for any of our crew!” He swayed back and forth, his paws on his face as he smiled

You could swear you saw flowers around him…

After that, he invited you to play games with him, Usopp, and Luffy

While Usopp was still reluctant, Luffy was 100% on board

“Come on y/n! Play with us!” Chopper smiled up at you and...well...there’s no way you could say no to his adorable face

So you joined in

It was fun...more fun than you thought possible to have

You laughed as Chopper tagged you, and you spun around picking him up in a hug

“Chopper...thank you.”

He smiled and laughed, “for what? Tagging you?”

You shook your head, putting him down

“No...for being a good friend.”

And he was, he was your best friend. You grew closer to him in the days following and you were certain you made the right decision

Robin:

She knows what it’s like to not be trusted by the crew initially...but at least with her it was one pirate to another

You were a marine

And not just a marine...but an admiral

She is reluctant to trust you, but will give you the benefit of the doubt

She spends a lot of time with you, gauging if you’re a threat to her crew or not

She would sacrifice herself for any one of them...you’re no exception

She almost thinks its her JOB to determine if you’re a threat or not

It wasn’t until your first battle together that she finds she trusts you

You give her a look, and she knows to use her devil’s fruit

You both coordinate perfectly together, and it shows your trust

She has only battled so flawlessly with her crew...which means you’re entirely one of them now

She will defend you from that fight forward, and stands up for you when the others express their doubts

“Y/n? Would you like to read with me?” She pats the spot next to her and smiled at you

“Of course! What are we reading today?”

The two of you grow closer and closer, spending hours upon hours just...enjoying each other’s company

She looks at your smile and knows...she would do anything to keep that happy smile on your face

Franky:

He doesn’t trust you...but he doesn’t...NOT trust you

He’s reluctant to get close, but finds it’s really easy with you

He’s newer to the crew, but he trusts Luffy’s judgement

So he doesn’t have any reason not to give you a chance

He’ll spend time with you, requesting you sit in his workroom as he works on a specialized weapon for you

Over that time, you make a lot of small talk

It brings you closer together

“Y/n! What do you think?” He’ll say holding up your now finished weapon “Pretty super, right? Don’t you just love it?” He has a look of pride on his face that makes you grin

You take the weapon into your hands and feel the weight is perfect

Not light, but not overly heavy either

“Thank you Franky!” You jump up to hug him and miss seeing his face turn a dark crimson

“O-of course! Anything for a crewmate!” He hugs you back, lightly as if he’s afraid he’ll break you

This makes you laugh, “Franky...I was an admiral remember? I won’t break from a hug!”

“Well then...take this!” He lifts you up, spinning you around in circles

You both laugh, pulling each other closer and closer

Once he sets you down you see the fleeting color of pink on his cheeks

You were sure your face mirrored the same color

He knows in that moment he would protect you

Even if you didn’t need it

Maybe...protect isn’t the right word

It sounds so...one sided

“I’ll protect you...will you protect me?” He looks sheepish, almost as if he hated asking

You lean up and kiss his cheek

“I’ll protect you Franky. I’ll protect all of us...this crew...it’s special.”

He nods, knowing exactly what you meant

“Then we’ll protect each other.”

And it was settled

Brook:

As soon as you stepped onto the ship he approached you

“Your name is y/n...correct?”

“Yup! That’s me!”

He leaned down so your…”eyes” were level with each other

“Can I see your panties?”

SLAP

“...is that a no?”

It’s safe to assume...he doesn’t judge you for being an admirable

Though seeing some of the crew be distant from you...it only motivates him to speak to you more

You looked tired after playing with the crew on deck, so he approached you

“Would you like me to play you a song to help you sleep?”

You stared wide eyed, not knowing he was the musician on the ship

“Sure! Would you...maybe be able to teach me how to play an instrument?”

“Which instrument would you like to learn?”

You hummed, “I’m not sure. I’ll get back to you on that.”

And so he played you a song

It put not only you, but Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper to sleep

He would have grinned if he could, and looked over his crewmates with love

As he finished the song he looked at you once again

“Sleep well y/n...I’ll see you tomorrow.”

#monkey d. luffy x reader #luffy x reader #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #x reader #gn reader #nami x reader #usopp x reader #sanji x reader #chopper x reader #tony tony chopper x reader #robin x reader #nico robin x reader #franky x reader #brook x reader

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happyandticklish · 3 years

Text

The Problems with Legilimency

Notes: For the anon request. This is so fucking late because writer’s block is a bitch, but I hope you enjoy it regardless! ^^ I sort of took my own spin on the request, but I think it’s fairly similiar to the original.

Summary: Two times in which Queenie’s Legilimency became a problem, and once when it kind of helped.

“Newt!”

The sound of his name strung along by that familiar voice sent a peculiar thrill through Newt’s person. He never grew tired of hearing it. He spun carefully around, an Occamy curled in his grasp; its tiny head poked curiously out from under his arm. “Yes?”

Tina stood puzzled back in his lab, hands placed upon her hips as she examined one of the shelves. “It’s not here. That herb you were looking for. I swear I saw it when we first came in here…”

That was odd. Newt was usually very meticulous about his placement system. He deposited the Occamy gently back into their nest, though the task provided some difficulty as the creature attempted to weave through his arms to reach him once more. Eventually though, hands free, he made his way over to where Tina stood.

In the space where a small bottle of rare herbs should have been, there was nothing but empty space. “You didn’t move it somewhere?” Newt asked, his tone inquisitive rather than angry. He began rearranging bottles around it, wondering if it had simply gotten misplaced.

Tina shook her head. “I turned my back and it was gone. It’s not…” she hesitated. “…supposed to do that, is it? I mean, it doesn’t have some kind of magical property to it, does it?”

Newt laughed, the quiet chuckle of an inside joke. “No, no need to worry about that. It does contain magical properties, though they are rendered quite harmless in its current form. Aha!” He grinned, his voice filled with soft triumph. “I believe we have found our culprit.”

Pickett stood frozen where Newt had revealed him, a bottle clutched tightly in his arms. His eyes widened, and quickly he tried to scramble away from them. Unfortunately, his efforts to get away from Newt only brought him into Tina’s awaiting hands, who held him up carefully as she lifted him into the air.

“Nice work, Tina,” Newt said, a hint of pride entering his tone. Seeing two of his favorite creatures in the world interact always brought him a strange joy. “Be careful when extracting the bottle from him; he can be difficult when he wants to be.”

“Oh, um, yes, of course.” Tina seemed more doubtful of her abilities, holding the creature out carefully as though one of two of them was going to accidentally hurt each other. She attempted to gently wrestle the bottle out of his hands, but, seeing her intentions, Pickett was quick to intervene. He wrapped his arms tightly around it, and when she attempted to nudge him off with her finger, he only transferred his hold to her as devious inspiration struck him.

Tina yelped, her heart catching a little in her throat. Though she admired Newt for his love for these creatures, she still found herself a bit wary when it came to actually interacting with them. Newt himself seemed unworried by this development, a smile tugging reluctantly at his lips, like a parent attempting to be disappointed with their child but ultimately unable to help their amusement.

“P-Pickett,” she started, her voice wavering a little at the uncertainty of talking to the tiny being. “I’m going to need you to let go now, if that’s alright; we need those ingredients for medicine—your medicine, I might add.”

Pickett was unbothered, clambering onto her finger fully now and beginning to scramble up her arm rapidly. Tina jerked back in surprise, the sensation of his little arms and feet crawling on her skin igniting a long forgotten sensation.

“Newt!” she called anxiously, tossing him a quick glance.

“Don’t worry about him,” he assured her. “He’s completely harmless—it’s only him who likes to think he’s tougher than he is.”

“B-But he’s—ah!” Tina felt a fluttery laugh escape her as Pickett reached her shoulder, poking around and exploring the area curiously, brushing up against her neck. “E-Ehe, w-wait!”

“What’s all the noise down here?”

The two startled at the sudden appearance of Queenie, her curls framing her face in its innocent curiosity as she stepped off the stairs. Evidently, neither of them had noticed her descent in the confusion of the misplaced bottle.

“Tina was just helping me create a new batch of medicine for the Bowtruckles,” Newt explained quickly, an odd nervousness entering his voice at the two of them being caught alone. He felt the unnecessary need to clarify their presence there. “When a bottle, it—well it went missing, but it was fine as Pickett here—”

“Of course it tickles,” Queenie interrupted, her voice directed affectionately in the direction of Tina. Newt started, those words being one of the last things he expected to leave her mouth. “There’s no need to get all worked up about it.”

“What?”

Tina stiffened and flushed as Newt’s gaze swiveled to her, focusing on Pickett who continued his exploration of her neck and shoulders with an unapologetic joy. He narrowed his eyes at the pesky creature, who startled at the sudden attention he was receiving and hid quickly under Tina’s collar.

Newt lurched forward, ready to remove him, but his hands paused inches away from Tina, where they hovered uncertainly over her neck. “Can I—that is, do you mind if I—”

“Yes!” Tina agreed, her voice a little too eager in her embarrassment. Quickly but carefully, Newt managed to remove the critter, allowing him to cling moodily to his finger as he pulled away.

Queenie smiled fondly at them, shaking her head a little at their antics. “Honestly,” she said as Newt tucked the errant Bowtruckle into his pocket. “There’s no need to get so worked up about it; it’s just tickling.”

“How did you—”

“Legilimens,” Queenie replied, arching a brow with a sly grin. “Or have you forgotten?”

“Oh. Right.” Newt fussed needlessly over Pickett, adjusting and re-adjusting him as he continued to avoid their gazes. Pickett himself bucked against the attention, batting in annoyance at his fingers. “Um, if you don’t mind, we were in the middle of something if we could return to that.”

“Oh.” Queenie shook her head at herself. “Of course.” There was something in her eyes that said she knew Newt’s true reason for wanting her gone, but for reasons unknown to Newt but that he was nonetheless grateful for, she declined revealing. “I’ll leave you two alone them.”

She whirled gracefully up the stairs, her silk robe fluttering lightly behind her along with her steps. It was only once she was gone that Newt allowed himself to exhale, turning to face Tina. “Are you alright?”

But Tina had already turned away from him, and was wholly engaged in the process of chopping up the retrieved ingredients as Newt had shown her earlier. The tips of her ears were tinged a dark pink, and her hair fell forward in her face, easily hiding her expression from the other.

Newt would have pursued the issue further, had he not been just as grateful to drop the subject at hand. For some reason, this new piece of knowledge about Tina stuck in his brain, a strange concoction of nerves and excitement lighting up his chest. The sudden feelings were too difficult to parse then and there, however, and Newt turned to the counter as well, making sure to stand a couple feet away as he directed her on the next steps.

“Now you want to grind it, into a fine powder.”

“Oh.”

The word was a startled little gasp, and it drew both Tina and Newt out of the world they had previously been lost in. Newt jerked away from her instantly, releasing her skin as though it were suddenly made of hot iron. Tina’s face was flushed, the remnants of laughter dancing in her smile. Less than a minute before, Newt’s fingers had been engaged in the process of reducing her into a state of flushed laughter. Now, however, he kept his hands firmly shoved in his pockets, far removed from where they could have any kind of effect on anyone.

After Queenie had accidentally revealed Tina’s secret a couple weeks ago, Newt had found himself unable to stop finding ways to accidentally tickle her in the hopes to see that unexpected smile light up her face once more. After a while, it became less accidental, though if Tina noticed, she chose not to say anything. There was hardly any excuse for that evening, however. It was only that Tina had chosen to stretch her arms above her head moments before and Newt could hardly be blamed for what happened afterwards.

Both appeared heavily embarrassed to have been caught in such a state, and it wasn’t just Newt this time who was having trouble making eye contact.

Queenie smiled, a gentle, reassuring gesture. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you. I just wanted to inform you both that dinner was ready. Although it seems you two are rather… preoccupied, at the moment.”

Newt cleared his throat, coughed awkwardly, and cleared his throat once more, clearly having difficulty coming up with words. “Sorry, we were just—that is to say—I was—”

“Tickling my sister,” Queenie answered for him, appearing unbothered by both the word and the subject. “It’s alright, you don’t have to apologize. I didn’t mean to intrude; it’s just that you were being quite loud.”

Tina’s brow furrowed as she readjusted herself on the bed; she was putting forth a failing attempt to make herself appear anymore dignified than the state in which she’d been interrupted. “How could you possibly have? We were—that is, we were trying to be quiet.”

“Thoughts speak louder than words,” Queenie quoted, though there was a truthful undertone to it that spoke of the embarrassing reality of having a Legilimens as a sister.

“Ah,” Tina said, visibly flustered. “Well.”

“Right,” Newt agreed eagerly, though it was unclear what either of them was agreeing on.

Queenie offered them a knowing look, before finally turning around to head back downstairs. “Alright then, I’ll leave you two alone. But be sure to come down soon; you wouldn’t want dinner to get cold.”

She paused at the doorknob, however, and turned suddenly back around. “Oh, and Newt?”

“Yes?”

“Her worst spot is her knees. Just in case you were wondering. Anyways.” With that, Queenie flounced from the room, her innocent air a betrayal of the words she’d just spoken.

The two of them sat frozen on the bed, both of them waiting for the other to make the first move. There wasn’t exactly protocol for this kind of thing.

After a while Tina groaned, dropping her head into her heads. “Sometimes I truly abhor my sister.”

“She can be quite… blunt,” Newt agreed. He found his gaze drawn now to her legs, swung carelessly over the bed. Queenie’s words played over and over in his mind, and before he knew what he was doing he had reached out and experimentally squeezed her knee.

Tina yelped, her hands flying from her face to shove at his arms quickly. “Don’t,” she warned, but there was a lightness to the warning that implied maybe she didn’t mean it as much as she said. A reluctant smile tugged at her lips, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Newt, please, this isn’t—”

“Fair?” he finished softly, squeezing again to hear that adorable squeal. Her hands flailed uselessly for a moment before fisting in the sheets, keeping herself from fully shoving him off.

“Newt,” she gasped, the words filled with anticipation and a giddy nervousness that prompted Newt to quickly enact a repeat of earlier, his hands flying as he wrecked her once more. Her laughter rung in his ears, wild and carefree, and he found he would do anything to hear that sound, even for a moment longer.

Eventually he relented, as dinner really was getting cold. However, he found an odd disappointment setting in when she merely stood up afterwards and headed over to the door, albeit more out of breath than before. Before he had time to dissect that feeling, the two were called once more for dinner in slightly harsher tones, and they quickly rushed down the stairs in an effort not to induce the other’s wrath at having to wait for them.

“Nehehehewt!” Tina gasped, batting uselessly at his hands as they scribbled mercilessly over her stomach. “Plehehehease!”

The two were curled up on the couch, having retreated there for the night while Queenie and Jacob were out on an evening for two. In the beginning the two had simply watched movies, Tina propped up against the other so that her head rested on his shoulder. Movies had been Newt’s idea, a Muggle concept that he had found fascinating. Moving pictures on a screen without the use of magic…. Tina had scoffed at the idea, but even she had to admit that it was pretty amazing seeing it in person. The TV had been a purchase made by Queenie, who had decided to invest after seeing how drawn in the two had been after returning from the theaters.

After a while, however, Newt had once again found his interests caught by a different form of entertainment, that of Tina’s startled shriek when he accidentally squeezed her side whilst adjusting himself. Moments later, Tina had her back pressed against his chest as she attempted to curl in on herself and evade the ticklish hug Newt was administering.

It was truly a wonder how they kept arriving here.

“Please what?” Newt asked, his lips quirking up into that rare teasing smile that Tina both hated and loved dearly. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

“Plehehehease stahahahap!” she giggled, her legs drawing up to her chest as she attempted to protect herself. “Ihihihi—ahahah, ihihit tihihickles! Nehehewt!”

“Alright, alright.” Newt relented, merely resting his hands on her stomach now and rubbing calming circles. “You know, you’re quite cute laughing like that; you should do it more often.”

“I already do it enough, thanks to you,” she replied with a wry grin, her words coming out in an exhausted huff as she fought to regain her breath back. “I don’t understand why you insist on doing it so often.”

“I believe he wants you to return the favor.”

The two startled, Tina letting out a startled yelp as a dark crimson flooded Newt’s cheeks, and they both turned to see Queenie standing at the doorway. Evidently, the two had just returned.

“Q-Queenie,” Newt stammered, with the intent of replying some kind of denial, but Jacob popped his head around her shoulder before he could, viewing the scene curiously.

“What favor? Oh hey, is that Felix the Cat?” Jacob quickly made his way over to them, taking a seat on the couch besides them.

“He what?” Tina repeated, ignoring Jacob and focusing her attention back on Queenie.

Queenie set her purse down, delicately taking a seat besides them. The couch was growing crowded by this point, but none of them appeared to care in the moment. “He wants you to tickle him back.” She paused after a moment, her eyes widening a little. “Oh. Sorry. I didn’t realize it was a secret.”

Newt’s face was permanently burned a color as red as his hair. His mouth was open on a theoretical protest, though it was clear it was too late for that. Eventually, he merely averted his gaze, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s, ah, it’s okay. You didn’t mean to, I know.”

Tina glanced between the two, trying to gather what had just happened. Jacob was the first to speak, raising one eyebrow. “You like being tickled, Newt?”

“I—” Newt started, his voice stuttering and stopping in his throat. He coughed, gripping the back of his neck tightly. Three pairs of eyes were suddenly focused on him, and while Newt didn’t prefer eye contact at the best of times, the awkwardness of the situation certainly did not help anything. Against his better judgement, his flicked his gaze up to meet Tina’s, anxiety getting the better of him. Her eyes were wide with surprise, which he had anticipated. What he had not expected was the tiny smile slowly tugging at her lips, a gentleness to the expression that made Newt’s heart clench in his chest. Ultimately, it was what prompted him to finally find the words to speak again.

“I—uh, yes. That is, I do. Like. To be tickled.” He cleared his throat again, staring at his lap. He tugged at the hem of his shirt, rhythmically pulling at a loose string to distract himself from the panic roiling in his brain. In the background, the TV hummed, though it was clear none of them were paying attention to it anymore.

After what felt like an eternity to him, but was in actuality only around thirty seconds, Jacob piped up, “Well why didn’t you just say so?”

Newt’s head snapped up, his heart slamming against his chest. “What?”

“Yeah,” Queenie agreed, a grin rushing quickly across her features. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s just another part of you.”

He felt someone grab his hand and he looked over to see Tina, her face filled with such overwhelming tenderness that he couldn’t help but smile slightly in return. “I love you, Newt. Which means I love making you happy. And if this is what makes you happy, than I’m happy to do so.”

Newt glanced around at the three of them, people who he had grown to love and care about more than he had allowed himself to with others in quite a long time. A tiny bubble of happiness rose in his chest, trapping his throat and making words impossible.

“Do you…” Tina started, before trying again, this time with more confidence. “Do you want us to tickle you? Now, that is.”

Newt flushed, the color spreading to the tips of his ears. He stammered, sentences tripping over themselves in his mouth, before he finally managed a quiet, “Yes. Only if you want to, of course.”

Jacob poked him lightly in the ribs and he jumped, a startled yelp escaping him. “Of course, buddy. After all, what kind of friends would we be if we didn’t help you smile every once in a while?”

Newt opened his mouth to respond, but his words were quickly lost to a flood of giggles as all three of them pounced at once, reducing him into a mess of squirming limbs.

Maybe Legilimency wasn’t so bad, after all.

#tickle fic #fantastic beasts and where to find them #tickling #newtina #newt scamander #tina goldstein #queenie goldstein #jacob kowalski #fanfic #fanfiction #fic request #requests #harry potter #hp #fbawtft #jakweenie

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dragongirl642 · 4 years

Text

Sunstreaker/Sideswipe x human!female!reader (bayverse) part 6

Recap:

"Should we run", said Starwave. "Probably" replied his twin and they slowly backed off hands raised, leaving their older brother to face his partner's fury.

Of course they didn't get off that easy,

The Autobots had noticed the new arrivals.

------------------------------------------Recap end------------------------------

I sat on my bed, back on my farm. The familiar colours and smells calming me. This was the last time I would be in this room for a while. Orders had come from higher up...all the newly-licensed members of NEST were to move into the newly appointed base at Diego Garcia. 'What's with calling it a newly appointed base anyway...I've worked there a couple of times before years ago...it's not new.'

The sounds of birds calling in the trees and the low rumbles of the tractors, again calming my turbulent mind. Every time I left, I worried about this place. Not just about whether all the work would get done, but whether the systems would work. We've had a couple of bad twisters hit here in the past. Nothing serious happens when I've been here to clean up or the early warning protocol kicks in; setting the farm to lockdown and all the machines pack themselves away in the barn. We had a system malfunction once in the past, I had to replace everything. 'Ugh, bad memories...at least William helped me (because he was blackmailed?...no because he wanted to help his cousin...well maybe a little bit) and the rest of the unit generously agreed to help too.' A small chuckle left my lips at the memory, 'ah good times'.

I swung my legs and jump off the bed. Turning to close the window, cutting off the sounds from outside, a sigh escaped me. Grabbing my two duffel bags filled with the last of my clothes, toiletries, electronics, etc; I walked out my bedroom, silently closing the door behind me.

I trudged through the house, closing windows and turning off lights; double checking the kitchen appliances, 'you can never be too careful'. Once at the front door, I threw a last longing look back down the hallway. With a huff I stepped outside and locked the door. The soft thump of its closing barely audible in the carpeted space.

"What took you so long?" The sound of Starwave's impatient voice sounding from his alt-mode parked not two feet from my front door. 'Did he just get snarky with me? Out of character much.' I strolled round his passenger side, his side door already open. I deposited both bags in his back seats then climbed in myself.

The seat belt strapping me in tight as we sped off. The burst of speed pushing me back into Starwave's seat. "Starwave, SLOW DOWN!" My panicked screech falling on deaf ears, 'Or audials should I say'. He swerved, tyres screeching and spun to suddenly slow and smoothly stop just beyond the doors of the barn. "I'm only trying to help darling, we were supposed to be at NEST two days ago. On the plus side you're no longer grumbling and stuck in your funk now, are you?" I couldn't deny his logic was sound.

But the effects weren't great. I practically flopped out of his alt-mode. Head spinning I stumbled towards the barn and leaned against the door; which promptly opened, depositing me neatly on the floor. "Ouch" I rubbed my back as I stood up once more. And slowly walked into the darkness of the barn, trying to ignore Starwave's amused chuckles from outside. "Are you alright (y/n)?" he gasped out between giggles. I hmph'ed and turned on the lights. Marching forward to my workbench I began putting everything in boxes and carrying them over to my trailer. Starwave had graciously volunteered to pull the large trailer all the way to the base so I couldn't really tell him off.

About 20 minutes later I had just finished packing all my stuff, 'or rather...anything smaller than me'. Last but not least I had a large exercise bicycle/pedal reactor to load. Unfortunately it was twice my height. Just as I was considering transforming and using my Gaian strength to lift it a cough came from behind, followed by a voice. "May I help you?" I whipped round as my heart jumped. Hand on heart I glared at the tall form of my partner, Starblaze. My glare soon turned to a look of confusion, "I thought you were already at the Diego Garcia base, how come you're here?"

He merely smiled and walked forward to pick up the reactor placing it on my trailer. He then lifted the folding ramp and so the trailer was now an enclosed box on wheels. I took the keys out of my pocket and locked it. I looked up to see Starblaze smiling at me. "Am I not allowed to visit my partner?" but then he slightly averted my eyes, "And I had to check on Starwave" he admitted.

I chuckled at that. 'No wonder'.

I walked over to the huge doors and began pushing on one, laboriously opening it; as Starwave casually opened the other with one hand, just his helm peeking round the door. Sunlight bouncing off him and temporarily blinding me as I walked outside.

Starblaze followed pulling the trailer in his off hand. I couldn't help but laugh.

"HA HA HA HA HA..."

This Oh-so-majestic being, who's very steps make the ground shake...is pulling my trailer like a toddler with his new toy.

'He effing looks like one as well. He's got the pout, walk and everything. XD'

I collapsed gasping to the floor as two very confused cybertronians just stare at me. Starwave looks from me to Starblaze. Then it clicks, an expression of wonder graces his faceplate before he too collapses in a fit of hysteria. Starwave just watches us nonplussed. He rolls his optics and thinks for a moment. Then he looks at himself. I laugh even harder as optics upwards in concentration he adopts the toddler pose again. He looks at me a grin blossoming on his faceplate and laughs as well. Not a moment later his eyes widen and he clamps a servo over his intake. Me and Starwave freeze and just stare.

(Author note: dear readers, if you have watched Transformers Prime...his laugh is like Ratchets laugh in that one episode. You and Starwave's reactions are the same as the kids.)

Not a second later we both burst out laughing again. "I-i-i-it hu-hurts" He gasps out through his giggles while I just cry with the force of my laughter. Starblaze just looks at us exasperatedly for a moment before smiling and leaning against the wall of the barn; watching us practically die with laughter.

--------------Timeskip to after you calm down and get on the road--------------------

Starwave was pulling my trailer attached to the back of his alt-mode and I was riding in Starblaze. The windows were down and I had my arm hanging out his window as we sped down the road.

I watched the horizon, daydreaming...when I felt a little nudge within my heart/head. "Are you alright?" Starblaze's voice echoed within my head as a wave of calm descended on me.

'I'm really starting to like this bond thing, sooooo calming', chuckles followed, reverberating over the bond. I frowned "Hey Starblaze keep out of my private thoughts please." There were more chuckles followed by an "As you wish (y/n)." Silence descends once more before another voice pipes up over the bond, "Hey I can see you, take a left now!" Its Starocean's voice...'But I thought he was at the Diego Garcia base.'

Starblaze took a sharp left down a dirt track to the gates of a brazenly military airbase. 'How did I not notice that?'

We rolled through the gates that opened before us and rounded a corner to see a huge cargo plane sitting contentedly on the runway.

Starblaze and Starwave; Starblaze lets me out and they both transform. I can vaguely hear Starwave stretching and grumbling about how heavy my trailer was...he soon shut up when Starocean came sprinting out the open back of the cargo plane. I watched with a smile on my face as the twins sprinted for each other. At the last minute they both dodged to their right, linked arms and spun around into a hug. I could faintly feel their joy and chatter over my link to Starblaze...and sequential sibling link to the twins.

I walked next to Starblaze towards the plane. Before we even take two steps though both twins come sprinting back.

"Hey (y/n)! How's packing been?" Joyfully Starocean offers me his hand, I step onto it and he lifts me up to cradle me against his chassis in a hug. "I missed you too ocean." I hug back and then he passed me over to Starblaze. ('Ocean' being my nickname for him; for example Starwave is 'Wave' and Starblaze is just 'Blaze', but together Starwave and Starocean are called the 'star twins')

I sit contently on Starblaze's shoulder, watching the star twins argue over who's going to pull my trailer now.

He walks over to the cargo plane and ascends the ramp. I sway slightly as we enter and grip onto one of his shoulder struts for support. A faint humming sounds all around, not the regular plane hum but almost like...'a sparkbeat!'.

I close my eyes and access my bond with Starblaze. I look around and all I can see is spark energy. 'Starblaze...are we?'

He nods and replies, "Yes we are...(y/n) meet Stratosphere."

I exited our link and looked around, "uh...hi."

"Nice to meet you (y/n). I must admit I was surprised when I heard any Gaians still existed, let alone one had formed a partnership with a native of this rock...it's cool to meet you."

Starblaze settled himself down further in and the twins came up the ramp with my trailer. I slid off his shoulder and down his outstretched arm to the floor of Stratospheres hull.

I was curious as to whether anyone would be sat in the cockpit or not. I opened the door to the cockpit and a broad beam spread across my face. I launched myself into the arms of the man stood on the other side of the door. "Epps!"

"Woah there" he chuckled and held me up, "Lennox would kill me if his baby cuz killed herself tackling me." I just laughed and punched him in the arm.

"Takes more than that to kill me Sergeant...word on the street is you're expecting a promotion."

"What street, you live in the middle of nowhere dust-girl."

We both laughed and then Starblaze's voice again sounded in my head.

'(y/n) strap in, we are preparing for take-off''.

I passed on the order to Epps as I strapped into one of the pilot seats. He quickly followed.

We watched the dash light up and felt Stratosphere rise into the air.

"Weird when you're not the one driving, isn't it?" Epps joked. I smiled and joked back, "yep it sure is, but that means I can nap right?"

We both laughed before I reclined my seat, giving a small yawn. Epps smiled at me in a brotherly way, "It sure does (y/n), it sure does."

I was out before he finished his sentence.

------------------Timeskip to Diego Garcia-----------------------

I woke up just as we were landing. The bright sun assaulting my eyes the second I dared open them. I flinched, closing my eyes in reflex. Epps chuckling away beside me doing absolutely nothing productive, besides insulting my pride. I cautiously glare though my eyelashes at him as I slowly adjust. He gets up and strolls out once I can open my eyes, I unclip myself and exit the cockpit after him.

The star twins are sharing the job of pulling my trailer, 'How on earth did they fuse their arms together?' Starocean's left arm and Starwave's right arm have fused together to form one large joint arm, as they walk in step with each other pulling my trailer after them. "It's like an absurd three legged race." I mutter to myself.

Starblaze stood sedately to the side glanced at them before saying, "They are split spark twins and they can fuse to form one being, should they so wish." I just nodded, and sent the equivalent of a nod down our bond just for good measure.

We all exited Stratosphere, Epps jogging ahead eager to get inside. I soon realised why, the second we stepped out into the sun I thought I would melt. Just as I was swishing for shade, Starblaze adjusted his pace to block the sun from falling on me. 'Thank God for robot aliens!' Starblaze suddenly broadcasting a bout of hysterical laughter down our bond.

I swear I leapt three feet in the air before falling promptly on my back.

Nearby laughter snaps me out of contemplating, yet again, the wonders of having someone else in my head at times.

I pick myself up and turn my head to see some bots I hadn't seen before.

They were practically identical, except the silver one had swords on his arms just above his servos and the yellow/gold one had guns.

I looked up at them, slightly embarrassed, but hiding it well. "Hello, are you some of the new recruits?" I politely asked.

"I'm Sideswipe" said the silver one, "and this is my brother Sunstreaker."

"And who might you be?" said bot interjected.

Their bright blue optics studied me intently.

"I'm (y/n) (l/n), cousin to William Lennox and Gaian bond partner to Starblaze."

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker both cock their helms at me in surprise, 'quite honestly the fact that they did that at the same time is soo cute!' I made sure that thought was kept out of me and Starblaze's bond.

I was distracted when Sunstreaker spoke up, "So you're the human that saved Jazz...you don't look like much." A self-satisfied grin hovering on his lip-plates as he waited for my reaction. Sideswipe grinned broadly, "Jazz said you faced Megatron...bet you couldn't take on me."

'Oh, these two thought I was just a human and that this would come to nothing huh, I'll show them.'

'(y/n) I would not advise that course of action...unless you would allow me to be your partner in this venture.' I could feel the smirk coming down our bond.

'Oh yes, let's show them.' I exited our conversation and addressed the twins.

"I could definitely take you...both of you in fact." The look of uncertainty suddenly on their faceplates was delicious. "But to make it fair we'll have a doubles sparring match...me and Starblaze versus you two. Just let me unpack and we'll find a suitable arena."

The twins froze momentarily before adopting exaggeratedly casual poses, "Sure, see you soon shortcake" being a final parting jab from Sideswipe before the two transformed and took off for the hangar. Sideswipe being a silver Corvette and Sunstreaker being a gold/yellow Lamborghini.

Starblaze's pedesteps alerting me to the fact that he was turning around.

"(y/n)!" a voice called for behind me. I turned around as well to spot Lennox come jogging up.

We embraced in an awkward hug, considering all the gear he was packing.

"Just back from a mission?"

"Yep...had to come back when I heard you were on your way and...your two days late."

I heard a cacophony of transforming sounds from far behind, Lennox and I watching as Stratosphere transformed into an absolute giant of a bot and limped off. We watched him walk off then turned back to each other.

"So (y/n), I saw you've met some of the new bots? I'd watch out for those twins."

I smiled, "Yep, and I've been challenged to a sparring match, doubles."

Lennox's grin fell. "You're not really going to fight them are you? Sideswipe is the Autobot's fragging combat instructor and his twin is just as skilled. You've fought in your Gaian mode, what, once?!!" But then, after a moments thought, he smirked evilly, "Kick their afts...I'll set the arena, I'm betting on you winning this."

I bumped his shoulder as I walked past, "Don't worry cuz, I'll make you proud."

We casually walked to the hangar, Lennox splitting off to go get the event all set, while Starblaze strolled up to the Star twins to tell them the news.

I walked to the barracks, entering the female dorms, I found my usual bunk down the end, and unpacked. 'Starwave was good enough to have my bags dropped off here, aw...such a sweetie!'

I stretched and left the barracks for the mess hall, 'gotta refuel before a fight.'

Grabbing a banana, I strolled out the door for the hangar. Climbing some stairs to the walkways, I took a bite as I leant against a banister.

"How's it hanging dudette?"

I turned with a smile, to come optic-to-eye with Jazz. "I'm good, how are you Jazz?"

He raised a servo and I gave him a fist pump before he started telling me all about the new recruits. Arcee (She is chimerical in the movie – check for more info), Jolt, brothers Skids and Mudflap, 'who are an ice-cream truck?', Stratosphere and the Arielbots (who are all still in Stasis needing repairs, except Stratosphere but he still needs some repairs) and finally the twins, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker.

"So little lady, heard you gonna spar wi'the twins. Here's a little tip for ya'...Go for Sideswipe's legs an' try ta corner him, he overbalances real easy when he can'move and Sunstreaker's vain, ya'hurt his finish he'll get angry and we all know you gotta keep it cool to fight."

I nodded, "Thanks Jazz, I'll keep that in mind."

'Starblaze you getting this?' the response was almost immediate, I'll keep these tips in mind for our battle'. I looked up to see the Star twins wave at me from behind Starblaze.

I waved back, grinning broadly; Jazz giving me a sidelong look.

"Hey you and those Gaian twins, you lot aren't a thing are ya?"

I spluttered, blushing in response to Jazz's question.

"No! They're like the brothers I never had, they're not romantic prospects or whatever..."

Jazz laughed as Starwave called from across the hangar, "Aww (y/n) you hurt our feelings!" Starocean cracking up beside him.

I glared and huffed, puffing my cheeks out in annoyance.

'Jokes', 'Yeah jokes...hey, does this mean we can call you little sister?' Came the less than apologetic replies from the two over my Gaian bond.

Jazz poked me with a digit, "hey didn't mean to pry girl, no hard feelings."

"Of course not Jazz" was my warm reply.

Jazz got ready to leave, "I'll be betting on ya" and with that final parting call he left.

'Man...I've got a lot of people betting on me...I'd better win this...what a sobering thought.'

'Don't worry you'll win.'

'Starblaze what did I say about going in my private thoughts.'

'That was private? You were practically shouting.'

'Oh shush you!'

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

Author note: So you've met the twins and a little competition be brewing. heh heh heh...hope you enjoyed.

#transformers #transformers jazz #transformers sideswipe #transformers sunstreaker #transformers bayverse #fanfiction #x reader #transformers ocs #not my ocs #william lennox

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crackimagines · 4 years

Text

Daisy and Sunshine (FE: Three Houses Full Fic)

All 3H AU’s Listed Here!

—

DOOM Paralogue

On the Doom Slayer's day off, he loses track of his beloved pet Daisy, and he goes on the hunt to bring her back. He finds out quickly his day off is about to be put on hold...

----

“Against all the evil that hell can conjure,

All the wickedness man can produce,

We will send unto them, only you.

Rip and tear, until it is done...”

----

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP-

SMASH!

[Life at Garreg Mach Monastery - Fire Emblem: Three Houses]

Doomguy rose from his bed and looked over to the side. Before he smashed his homemade alarm clock, it was about 8 in the morning.

Once he finished stretching, he looked at the calendar and sighed in relief.

Sunday.

Being an instructor for House Isekai was tiring work. Even though he never spoke, there hadn’t been a day for these past few months where he hasn’t sighed out of disappointment.

Compared to the other houses, this one was trying to herd several cats.

Megumi, Cocytus, and if it ever got too bad, Byleth had to try and calm them down.

Sara did nothing to help and in fact only added fuel to the fire.

(Hayden) “Must you keep destroying the alarm every morning? We do have to keep an eye on our resources.”

The voice speaking was one of the AI’s that Doomguy had on him when he was transported to Fodlan. Personally he would have preferred if it was just his main assistant, Vega, here but he made do with it. It’s not as if Hayden could do anything.

Ignoring him, Doomguy got dressed in his Praetor suit and checked his rabbit pen.

Daisy was normally still sleeping at this hour, but she was wide awake. Her head turned to Doomguy.

Getting a small hay cube, he held his hand out to her, which she nibbled off his hand.

Nodding in satisfaction, he left his room for breakfast.

At the mess hall he met up with Megumi, Sara, Cocytus, Byleth and Seteth.

Once they all grabbed their plates and food, they sat down at a table near the entrance. More and more students eventually poured in and the Mess Hall went from nearly dead quiet to extremely busy.

(Sara) “Finally, a nice old Sunday! These aching bones need to rest.”

(Byleth) “...I don’t recall you doing anything other than do lectures, Sara-”

(Sara) “Exactly! Teaching is hard work, ESPECIALLY with the kiddos that we have!”

(Seteth) “Hmph, that I will agree with. House Isekai’s students seem to be more high maintenance than any of our three houses.”

(Megumi) “You have no idea, but it is fulfilling work!”

(Cocytus) “INDEED. SEEING THE YOUTH SLOWLY BECOME BETTER AND BETTER FIGHTERS IS A REWARD IN OF ITSELF.”

Doomguy nodded in agreement.

(Sara) “Bah, enough talking about classes already! I’m gonna be drinkin’ the day away as soon as breakfast is done!”

(Seteth) “My goodness, it is not even twelve yet!”

(Cocytus) “I SUPPOSE I WILL BE ASSISTING ANY STUDENT IN THE TRAINING HALLS TODAY.”

(Byleth) “I haven’t decided yet.”

(Megumi) “Neither have I. What about you, Slayer?”

Doomguy put his hands to his helmet’s chin.

He wasn’t too sure himself. He supposed he could read for today. It’d make a nice change of pace.

Doomguy shrugged at Megumi and went back to eating.

After everyone finished their breakfast, they all went their separate ways.

...

Turning off the chainsaw, he had finally finished making a makeshift hammock for himself and sat down. He put his helmet onto a leftover parts of a tree he had punched off.

Opening his book, he continued where he left off.

Dungeons and Demons, 6th Edition.

As he read, the morning slowly turned into early afternoon, students and staff passing by and waving hello at him.

He waved back, but hadn’t moved from his spot in hours as he tried to better understand how to play this new tabletop game.

A little later passed and the sun was still shining nice and warm over him. It seemed like the rules and lore within this never seemed to end, so he put it down to catch a small break.

It was then he noticed his helmet’s visor was glowing.

Raising an eyebrow he put the helmet back on and Vega’s voice appeared on screen.

(VEGA) “Slayer, your pet rabbit Daisy has escaped the cage.”

Normally he would have let Daisy explore and come back on her own, since she had a habit of doing that anyway, but he was in the mood to stop reading for the moment, so it was a perfect excuse.

Knowing already where her favorite hiding spot was, he put his book down on the log and went down to Abyss.

[The Forgotten - Fire Emblem: Three Houses]

When he turned the corner, he was greeted by the Abysskeeper.

(Abysskeeper) “Oh, hey Slayer. Got something to report.”

Doomguy stopped walking and nodded at him.

(Abysskeeper) “We got that shipment of supplies we’ve been needing for a while thanks to your assistants. So thanks.”

Doomguy nodded again and grabbed a piece of paper nearby. Quickly scribbling onto it, he showed it to the Abysskeeper and pointed towards the paper’s drawing.

It was an extremely crude drawing of a rabbit.

(Abysskeeper) “Ah, your rabbit. Yeah I saw her run by, she’s fast on her feet. Think she went towards the former classrooms.”

Doomguy gestured his hand upwards as a sign of thanks and went towards that direction.

As he was walking, a familiar face emerged from the corner.

(Hapi) “Oh, Teary. What’s up, Daisy got down here again?”

Doomguy nodded.

(Hapi) “Hmph. Alright, I’ll help you look for her, wasn’t really doing anything anyway.”

Not needing to say anything further the two continued walking and searching every crevice for Daisy. After about 10 minutes of searching the classrooms, they decided to see if anyone else had seen her.

(Yuri) “Oh, hey you two.”

(Balthus) “Heya.”

Yuri and Balthus were in the main room with Angelica, and Sharon.

(Angelica) “’Sup?”

Sharon bowed.

(Sharon) “Good afternoon!”

(Hapi) “Supplies still being brought in, Yuri-bird?”

(Yuri) “Yeah, figured we would’ve been done about half an hour ago. Just how much were you able to get?!”

(Sharon) “When you’re as convincing as I am, you can get whatever you want!”

(Balthus) “That’ uh...ominous.”

(Angelica) “And that still didn’t answer his question.”

(Yuri) “Well anyways, we appreciate it. We’ll be good to go for the next few months with what we have. But I digress, what brings you to our humble abode, Slayer?”

(Hapi) “Teary’s rabbit got lost down here again. We were wondering if you saw it.”

(Yuri) “No idea, but I can send word for everyone to keep an eye out if that’ll help.”

(Constance’s voice) “AAAH!”

Everyone spun around as Constance ran in.

(Constance) “T-THERE IS A HIDEOUSLY LARGE RAT THAT IS SCURRYING DOWN HERE!”

(Yuri) “That should be nothing new, but a large one?”

(Angelica) “Would that rat happen to have been a light brown color?”

(Constance) “Yes! It had massive ears and-”

(Hapi) “Coco, that’s a rabbit.”

(Constance) “A rabbit does not move like that! They hop around in an adorable manner, not bolt around at super speeds!”

(Sharon) “Well, looks like we have found your rabbit!”

(Yuri) “Which way did it go?”

(Constance) “Ugh, we are chasing it?! Let’s see, this way!”

Finally chasing her down towards the arena, she was sitting in the middle.

(Sharon) “Oh, I have not been down here in a while!”

(Angelica) “Wait, what?”

(Balthus) “Er, long story short, she, Megumin, Momon and Nabe, and Akechi were down here a couple months back. They actually helped us stop that Demonic beast in the cathedral.”

(Hapi) “Yeah, pretty sure I saw Sharon slit so many throats down here that some of the stains are still here.”

(Angelica) “Huh, so THAT’S what the whole demonic beast attack was about.”

Doomguy did have some recollection of defending the town during that period of time.

(Constance) “Now, mister Slayer shall you get your rabbit, please?”

Doomguy nodded and knelt down, trying to catch her attention.

Instead of running to him, she ran away in terror.

(Yuri) “Huh, that can’t be good.”

[Woven by Fate - Fire Emblem: Three Houses]

A portal slowly started to emerge, with red alerts blinking on Doomguy’s screen.

(VEGA) “Alert! Demonic presence detected!”

Doomguy’s eyes widened as he quickly got up. He instinctively reached for a gun but had none on him.

(Hapi) “Ooooh crap!”

(Balthus) “Demons, seriously?!”

(Constance) “Did you sigh, Hapi!?”

(Yuri) “Everyone, just get ready for whatever’s coming through that portal!”

Everyone pulled their weapons out as Doomguy walked closer to the portal.

“Slayer...I have found you once more...”

(Balthus) “Uh...are they buddies?”

(Hapi) “B, does it look like they’re friends?!”

(Constance) “Then what is he?!”

(VEGA) “That is a Marauder.”

His voice was coming from nowhere, in which they were all confused by.

(Hayden) “Do not be concerned of where his voice is coming from, focus your attention to the incoming portals!”

Behind the Marauder appeared several demonic beasts, some from Fodlan while some others came from Doomguy’s world.

(VEGA) “He will handle the Marauder, I recommend taking out the smaller beasts so he may focus on his task.”

Angelica cracked her knuckles.

(Angelica) “You got it!”

(Yuri) “Everyone, on me!”

Doomguy was looking back at the group and was relieved. VEGA and Hayden would be ensuring they’d be alright.

(Marauder) “How amusing. You think that they will be safe.”

Doomguy slowly turned to the Marauder and gestured towards him, daring the Marauder to even try.

They circled each other as the Marauder activated his Rune Axe, and Doomguy’s wrist blade shot out.

(VEGA) “Your team’s current objective, Rip and Tear!”

----

[Super Gore Nest - Doom Eternal]

UNIT SELECTION:

Begin the slaughter?

>[Yes] Yes

Victory Conditions: Rip and tear the enemy commander.

Defeat Conditions: Leave the area not filled to the brim with demonic organs.

----

Doomguy threw the first swing, the wristblade bouncing off the Marauder’s shield.

The Marauder retaliated by swinging the axe overhead, crushing the concrete beneath him as Doomguy dove out the way.

A demonic imp jumped onto Doomguy’s back. Doomguy grabbed the imp by the throat and slammed it down onto the floor, his boot completely crushing the upper skull with its guts and blood splattering onto the floor.

The shoulder cannon spewed out flames behind Doomguy catching a demonic beast into flames as it howled out in pain.

Doomguy countered the Marauder’s axe with his wristblade, and used his freehand to gut punch the Marauder.

Staggering backwards, several hell hounds formed next to the Marauder and charged Doomguy.

(Marauder) “YOU WILL FALL, USURPER!”

(Yuri) “I can’t believe that guy’s so used to this!”

Yuri got his sword out of a demonic beast as another one tried to eat Balthus.

Balthus managed to punch it away, making it fall back onto its side.

Sharon used her wires to tangle it’s mouth shut as she threw her knife into its eye.

(Hapi) “His name is Teary for a reason, Yuri-bird!”

(VEGA) “Actually, his name is-”

(Hapi) “Not now, VEGA!”

Constance used her magic to disintegrate several demons into dust while Hapi did the same with her magic.

Angelica grabbed one of the demons and slammed its face into the wall, and kicking the head so hard into it, it exploded.

Another one tried to swipe at her, but was grabbed by Balthus. He snapped off its neck before slamming it into the floor, with him stomping it to death.

Angelica turned to Doomguy and noticed just how many enemies were around him.

(Angelica) “Some of us need to back him up!”

(Hayden) “That is ill advised, Rogner. Getting in his way is a good chance for you to lose your limbs.

(Sharon) “We should leave him to his fun, yes?”

(VEGA) “That is the recommended course of action. Several more portals appearing behind you.”

A demonic beast came charging out with everyone diving out the way.

With the last of the hellhound being punched so hard, the skull exploded into fragments, he checked his surroundings and noticed a massive shadow above him.

Doomguy spun around and ripped apart the jaw of a massive demonic bird-like beast that tried swooping in, using the upper beak to stab it in the skull while using the lower beak as a makeshift weapon.

Several more demons tried to rush him, and were immediately impaled with the sharp end of the beak.

The Marauder fired an energy projectile from his axe and flew towards Doomguy.

He threw the beak at the projectile, letting the beak and the demons stuck in it get cut in half as he charged the Marauder.

The Marauder charged and the wristblade and axe clashed against each other.

The Marauder brought out a shotgun and was about to fire before Doomguy headbutted him, and grabbed it from his hands.

He ripped the gun in half and threw it to the side, taking out one of the Marauder’s main weapons.

(VEGA) “Friendly portal inbound, we are dropping a weapon for you, Slayer.”

A blue portal appeared above Doomguy, and he raised his hand upwards and caught his super shotgun.

Finally having a gun again, Doomguy started to smile underneath his helmet.

The first Demon that tried to rush him got the barrel in its mouth, its head completely blowing apart into tiny chunks.

Reloading, he looked at the group of demons enclosing around his group. His shoulder cannon shot a grenade out behind him as he rushed to help.

Angelica and Balthus shattered the skull of a demonic beast with the force of their punch while Yuri was dodging swipes from several imps.

Sharon’s wires grabbed and wrapped around their necks as she pulled them over to her.

It tried clawing Sharon, but its head was immediately sliced off from the garrote going through its neck.

She continued smiling as she threw her knife at an imp’s head attacking Yuri, which he grabbed the dagger and drove it into mouth of the last imp.

Hapi and Constance closed the last portal with their magic before making it explode, the demons around it bursting into limbs with blood flying everywhere.

(Constance) “Such detestable creatures!”

(Hapi) “We keep killing but there’s so many!”

A flying demon was about to attack them from behind until it was grabbed out of the air by a hook.

The hook suddenly closed in with Doomguy flying towards it and ripping the beast in half with his wristblade.

(Hapi) “Teary, any chances of this fight finishing up soon?!”

He looked at Sharon and pointed at her wires.

(Sharon) “Oh, you require this? Of course, mister Slayer!”

He nodded in thanks as he held the wires firmly in his hands and turned to Hapi, gesturing towards the Marauder who was running towards them.

(VEGA) “Everyone, the last of the demonic forces are closing into your position, a defensive line would be recommended!”

Hapi ran ahead of Doomguy and readied her magic while Doomguy was catching up behind.

(Marauder) “A friend to the Slayer? Then allow me to open your eyes to this-”

Hapi interrupted him by shooting a fireball at him, which he reflected with his shield.

(Hapi) “Shut the hell up, would you?!”

The smoke disappearing, the Maruader took his chance and swung towards Hapi, only to be blasted in the chest by Doomguy who was now standing in front of her.

Wasting no time, Doomguy used Sharon’s wires and wrapped around its neck, and he kicked him towards Hapi.

Hapi used dark magic and blasted the Marauder upwards into the air.

Tugging the wires forcefully down, the Marauder went crashing down into the concrete, shooting up several bricks upon impact.

Using the wristblade to stab into his eyes, he used the wires to get him out of the hole, shot a grenade into it, then threw his body back.

Using his suit’s dash, he went over to Hapi and shielded her from the explosion that sent body parts and blood raining down on the arena.

No one was spared from a shower of gore that landed on them.

Yuri and Balthus looked slightly annoyed while Constance was screaming that so much bits of guts was on her.

Angelica made a noise that didn’t decide if it was a swear or sound of disgust while Sharon stood completely still, her smile not even twitching.

(Yuri) “Well...didn’t think a rabbit hunt would turn into a demonic invasion.”

(Balthus) “Sure was fun!”

(Constance) “UGH! HOW REPULSIVE! I MUST SHOWER AT LEAST 3 TIMES TO GET THIS SMELL OFF ME! AND MY DRESS IS RUINED!”

(Angelica) “Eugh, son of...Well, at least it’s over.”

(Sharon) “I would be happy to wash everyone’s clothes if they wish for it!”

Doomguy’s shoulders relaxed as he turned to Hapi.

There was only bits of blood on her, but she looked more annoyed than anything.

(Hapi) sigh “Finally that’s over with.”

(Constance )”H-HAPI?!”

Doomguy cocked his shotgun back and turned to the side, blasting a demonic beast that came charging in.

The blast sent skull and eye fragments scattering into the air as it stopped in its tracks, sliding across the bodies and debris.

(Hapi) “Thanks. Now, let’s go find Daisy, yeah?”

(VEGA) “Daisy is currently hiding in a small hole to your right.”

Doomguy nodded and motioned for Hapi to follow. Everyone else joined him.

[Life at Garreg Mach Monastery - Fire Emblem: Three Houses]

Doomguy emerged from the entrance of Garreg Mach alongside everyone else, while he held Daisy in his arms, softly petting her to calm her down.

Byleth passed by and stopped, looking at all of them.

(Byleth) “...Is...everything alright?”

They were absolutely soaked in blood and giblets, all of them standing awkwardly.

Doomguy nodded at Byleth.

(Hapi) “We’re uh, we’re fine thank you. Everything’s fine...How are you?”

(Yuri) “Hey, professor.”

(Balthus) “Pay no attention to our gut soaked rags, professor!”

(Angelica) “Yeah, don’t mind us.”

(Sharon) “Excuse us, we had a bit of a struggle down in Abyss.”

(Byleth) “I can see that.”

(Constance) “P-Please direct us to the baths, Professor Byleth.”

(Byleth) “...To your left, up the stairs.”

Everyone went towards the baths to get washed up.

...

Once everyone was finally washed up and went their separate ways, Hapi went with Doomguy to this room.

Doomguy set a small tea set down at the table and poured them a drink.

After a few minutes of silence as they ate some snacks, Hapi laid against her chair.

(Hapi) “Thanks, Teary. That hit the spot.”

Doomguy nodded as he drank the remainder of his tea.

He looked over at the cage where Daisy was resting comfortably.

(Hapi) “By the way, thanks for saving our butts there. Not that I had any doubt that you would’ve left us anyway.”

Doomguy didn’t say anything, but Hapi knew he would have said “No problem”. Or at least that’s what he gestured.

(Hapi) “...Ya know for being a person who never speaks, you’re a really nice guy.”

Doomguy tilted his head in confusion but she just chuckled.

(Hapi) “The scariest man alive serving tea and caring for a pet rabbit. I’m sure girls like me would just be swooning.”

Doomguy waved his hand dismissively.

(VEGA) “Perhaps we can get a dating site when we get back, Slayer?”

(Hayden) “As if.”

Doomguy punched the wall to signal to the both of them to shut up.

(Hapi) “I said that as a joke but now I’m pretty curious...”

Doomguy glared at her.

(Hapi) “Alright alright, forget what I said!”

She continued to chuckle as he sighed through his helmet. The two continued to sit in silence as his attention was brought over to Daisy.

Daisy was woken up by the sound but looking at Doomguy. He walked over to the cage and fed her small hay cube, which she nibbled off his hand.

Nodding in satisfaction, he went back to the table and enjoyed a quiet tea time with Hapi.

#fire emblem three houses imagines #fire emblem three houses headcanons #fe3h imagines #crossover #Doom AU #doomguy #doom slayer #hapi #yuri leclerc #balthus von albrecht #constance von nuvelle #angelica rogner #sharon kreuger #ashen wolves #doom #doom eternal #byleth

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winchesterbrotherstan · 5 years

Text

SPN- Dead Man’s Blood (1.20)

Pairing: Olive Winchester (OC)

Summary: When the siblings pick up a trace of something strange, they run into some familiar faces, and old tensions rise once more

Warnings: abuse, (john’s an ass), cursing, screaming, blood, uhhh, mentions of the undead, like knives and shit. the usual

Word Count: 6461

I sighed and shut my laptop. Dean folded his newspaper, and Sam rolled his neck. I yawned, dropping my head onto the table. Jinx yawned too, and Dean rubbed her head.

“Well, guys. Not a decent lead in all of Nebraska.” Dean groaned. “What’ve you got?”

“Well, I’ve been scanning Wyoming, Colorado, South Dakota. Here.” Sam huffed.

I sighed. “We’re in the middle of ass-fuck nowhere, and you’re gonna tell me there isn’t a case around?”

“Uh, a woman in Iowa fell ten thousand feet from an airplane and survived.” Sam shrugged.

I looked at Dean, and he made a face.

“Sounds more like that’s incredible than uh, Twilight Zone.”

“Yeah.” Sam sighed again.

Dean smirked. “Hey, you know, we could uh, keep heading east. Hit Missouri. Olive, I know you miss Taylor. And then uh, New York. Maybe upstate. Drop by and see Sarah again, huh?” He whistled. “Sam, you two seemed pretty friendly. Whatcha say?”

Sam sighed. “I dunno, maybe someday.” He glanced at me. “Missouri is only a few hours away.”

I shook my head. “It’s half a day’s drive. Besides, we’ve got a lot of work to do.”

Dean sighed. “Yeah, alright. What else ya got?”

“Uh, man in Colorado, local named Daniel Elkins, was found mauled in his home.”

“Elkins?” I repeated, turning to look at Dean.

“We know that name, don’t we?”

Sam shook his head. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Elkins.” Dead mumbled.

“Sounds like the police don’t know what to think. At first they said it was some sort of bear attack, and now they’ve found some signs of robbery.”

Dean hummed, and I flicked through Dad’s journal. Dean cut me off.

“There.”

“Here.” I turned the journal to Sam.

D Elkins - 9705550158

“Same Elkins?” Sam furrowed his eyebrows.

“It is a Colorado area code.”

***

Sam tucked his lock pick into his pocket as he pushed the door open. Dean stepped in first, shining his flashlight around. He snorted as Sam and I followed.

“Looks like the maid didn’t come today.”

“Hey.” I tugged Sam’s sleeve. “There’s salt over here.” I pointed. “Right beside the door.”

Dean was flicking through a journal, eyes focused. “You mean protection against demons, salt, or whoops I spilled the popcorn, salt?”

“It’s definitely a ring.” Sam huffed. “You think this Elkins guy was a player?”

“Had to be.” I shone the light around as I made my way to Dean. “Journal looks a hell of a lot like Dad’s. And mine.”

Dean nodded as Sam joined us, standing behind me.

“Yeah, except this one dates back to the sixties.”

I huffed as Dean dropped the journal onto the table and began to move into the next room. I followed, hooking a finger onto one of his belt loops.

“Holy shit.” Dean mumbled as we lit the room up.

The place was wrecked, items strung all over, furniture thrown about, a hole in the roof. I snorted, and Sam shook his head.

“Whatever attacked him, it looks like there was more than one.”

“Elkins put up a hell of a fight, too.”

“Yeah.” Sam sighed.

Dean crouched down and put his finger to the floor.

“Got something?” I asked, looking back around the room.

“Dunno. Some scratches on the floor.”

I squatted next to him and shone my flashlight over the gouges. “Death throes maybe?”

Dean shrugged. “Yeah, maybe. Ol, hand me a piece of paper?”

I popped to my feet and pulled a notebook from a bookshelf. I ripped out a blank piece of paper and handed it to him, along with a pencil. He ran it over the marks.

“Or maybe a message.” Dean peeled the paper back up, which had blood stuck to the back of it. “Look familiar?”

“Three letters, six digits. The location and combination of a post office box.” Sam noted.

“It’s a mail drop. Just the way Dad does it.”

***

I watched from the car as Dean pried open the post office box. Sam was at his side, on alert. Dean pulled a letter out, tilted his head, and then showed it to Sam. They glanced at each other, and then to me, confused. I squinted, and they shut the box before walking back to me. Jinx ran circles in the backseat as they opened the car doors.

Dean slid into the car, followed by Sam. They dropped a white envelope in my lap, and I picked it up with narrowed eyes.

“J.W.” I read. “You think it could be?”

“John Winchester.” Dean sighed.

“I dunno.” Sam sighed, shaking his head.

“Should we open it?” Dean asked.

There was a knock on Dean’s window. Jinx barked. Dean’s arm went back, ready to swing. My teeth shifted, and a growl left my throat. Sam yanked a knife out of the glovebox as the three of us turned to the window.

“Dad!”

He smiled at the shock on our faces, and Dean grinned. I swallowed the blood in my mouth and wiped the rest on the back of my sleeve. Dad slipped into the backseat, and I got onto my knees and spun around, leaning forward and smiling at him. Jinx curled up by his side, and he scratched between her ears.

“Dad, what are you doing here?” Sam asked, eyes wide.

“Dad! Are you alright?”

“Hi, boys. Hi, peanut. I’m okay. When I read the news about Daniel, I got here as fast as I could.” He sighed. “I saw you three at his place.”

“Dad…” Sam trailed off. “Why didn’t you come in?”

Dad shook his head with a small smile. “You know why. Because I had to make sure you weren’t followed. By anyone or anything. Nice job covering your tracks, by the way.”

A grin broke on Dean’s face. “Yeah, well, we learned from the best.”

“Wait, you came all the way over here for this Elkins guy?” Sam narrowed his eyes.

“Yeah.” Dad nodded. “He was… he was a good man. He taught me a hell of a lot about hunting.”

“You never mentioned him to us.” Dean turned to face him.

“We had a…”

“A falling out?” I guessed.

Dad nodded. “I hadn’t seen him in years.” He glanced at the envelope in my hands, and I handed it over to him. “I should look at this.” He sighed. “If you’re reading this, I’m already dead.” He scoffed. “That son of a bitch.”

“What is it?”

“He had it the whole time.”

“Had what?”

“When you searched the place, did you, did you see a gun? An antique, a Colt revolver. Did you see it?”

“Uh, there…”

“There was a case, but it was empty.” Dean helped me out.

“They have it.” Dad snarled.

“You mean whatever killed Elkins?”

“What were they?”

Dad pushed the door open. “We gotta pick up the trail.”

“Wait. You want us to come with you?” Sam’s eyes grew wider.

“If Elkins was telling the truth, we gotta find the gun.”

“The gun?” Sam repeated. “Why?”

“Because it’s important, that’s why.”

“Dad…” Sam shook his head. “We don’t even know what these things are yet.”

“They were what Daniel Elkins killed best. Vampires.” Dad shut the door once more.

“Vampires?” Dean repeated.

“I thought you hunted those things out of existence.” I looked between my brothers.

“Yeah, Dad. I thought you were raiding the last nest on the night we got Olive.”

Dad sighed. “I thought they were extinct. I thought Elkins and… and the rest of us wiped them out.” He shook his head. “I was wrong.”

I sighed. “What do we know about vamps, Dad?”

He shook his head again. “Well. Most vampire lore is crap. A cross won’t repel them, sunlight won’t kill them, and neither will a stake to the heart. But the bloodlust… that part’s true. They need fresh human blood to survive. They were once people, so you won’t know it’s a vampire until it’s too late.”

***

“Sam, Olive, Dean. Let’s go.” Dad’s voice was gruff, and he slapped the bottoms of our feet.

I yelped as I jumped up. Dean mumbled a response, even though he was still more than half asleep. Sam pushed himself up on his elbow with a groan and Dean began to rub his eyes. I yawned, wanting nothing more than to drop back into bed and cuddle Dean back to sleep. Jinx yawned as Sam sat up.

“I picked up a phone call.”

“What happened?” Sam grumbled.

“A couple called 911, found a body in the street. Cops got there, everyone was missing. It’s the vampires.”

Sam scrambled from bed. “How do you know?”

“Just follow me, okay?” Dad walked out of the room.

Sam yanked a jacket on, and I tugged at Dean with a groan.

“Come on.” Sam called. “We’ve gotta get Olive to school.”

I groaned again. “No! Come on, lemme hunt vamps with you!”

Dean giggled. “Vampires. Gets funnier every time I hear it.”

“No. School for you, come on.” Sam pulled me out of bed and set me on my feet.

I sighed as I shuffled around the room, gathering my things.

***

“Alright. I’ll see you guys later. Love you. Be safe!” I pressed a kiss to Sam’s cheek, then Dean’s before I clambered out of the car.

“Love you, bug!”

“Bye, pumpkin!”

They peeled out of the parking lot as soon as I shut the door. I fixed my backpack strap over my shoulder and trudged across the parking lot, up the steps into the school.

“Olive?”

I looked over my shoulder and rolled my eyes. I spun on my heel and crossed my arms over my chest, jutting one hip out with a scowl on my face.

“What are you guys doing here?” I whined. “And why can’t you ever find your own cases?”

Hunter snorted. “Elkins.”

I sighed. “Elkins. Did he work with your mom?”

“Think so. Found his name and number in her journal.”

I sighed again. “Yeah, us too.”

“What do you guys know?”

I rolled my eyes and flipped my phone open.

“Olive?”

I ignored him as I dialed Dean’s number and held it up to my ear.

“Hey, sweetie. What’s up?”

“Richmonds are here. Dunno what they know. Might wanna call Everett.”

He sighed. “Yeah. Okay. Will do. See you later, babes.”

“See ya, bubba.”

Hunter blinked.

“What?” I hissed. “Don’t act like you don’t have nicknames for your sisters.”

He only blinked again. “Okay. So. What class do you have first period?”

I yanked the paper out of my back pocket. “Spanish. You?”

He pulled my hand into his with a grin. “Me too. Let’s go.”

***

“Hey, sweetie.” Dean looked at me over his shoulder as I climbed into the car.

I smiled at Sam, expecting a happy greeting and sweet nickname. I got nothing. Jinx jumped onto my lap. I scratched her between the ears.

“Hi, boys.” I dropped my bag onto the bench and laid down with a grunt. “What do we have so far?”

Dean chuckled and held out a thick book. I groaned and sat up as Sam started the car. I took the book and flipped it open.

“Does Dad know the Richmonds are here?” I glanced over my shoulder to see their car following us.

“Yeah. He’s not too happy.”

“Doesn’t like working with other hunters.” Sam grunted.

I sighed and sunk into the seat, flicking through pages.

“Vampires nest in groups of eight to ten.” Dean read. “Smaller packs are sent to hunt for food. Victims are taken to the nest where the packs keep them alive, bleeding for days or weeks.” He grimaced.

“I wonder if that’s what happened to that 911 couple.” I mumbled.

“That’s probably what Dad’s thinking. Course, it would be nice if he just told us what he thought.” Sam grumbled.

Dean looked back at me with a sigh. I shook my head, and his jaw set.

“So it is starting.”

“What?” Sam snapped.

I sighed louder, pushing the book aside. Jinx whined, setting her chin on my leg.

“Sam, we’ve been looking for Dad all year. Now we’re not with him for more than a couple of hours and there’s static already?”

Sam snorted. “No. Look, I’m happy he’s okay, alright? And I’m happy that we’re all working together again.”

“Well, good.” Dean hissed back.

“It’s just the way he treats us! Like we’re children.” Sam couldn’t help himself.

“Oh God.” Dean rolled his eyes, throwing his head back for show.

“He barks orders at us, Dean! He expects us to follow them without question. He keeps us on some shitty need-to-know deal!”

“He does what he does for a reason, Sam.”

“What reason?”

“Our job! There’s no time to argue, there’s no margin for error, alright?” Dean snapped. “That’s just the way the old man runs things.”

“Yeah, well maybe that worked out when we were kids, not not anymore, alright? Not after everything the three of us have been through, Dean! I mean, are you really telling me you’re cool with just falling into line and letting him run the whole show?” Sam side-eyed him.

I laid down in the seat, pulling my jacket tighter around myself. Dean sighed, probably looking at Sam. Jinx curled up on the other end of the bench.

“If that’s what it takes, Sam.” Another sigh. “If that’s what it takes.”

Sam snorted again, and I turned onto my side, closing my eyes.

***

The engine roared, and I curled up, horrified. Jinx squeaked.

“Sam, what the hell are you doing?”

There was no answer, and the Impala’s brakes screeched as the car swerved, stopping. The door opened and slammed shut.

“Oh shit. Ollie?”

I sat up with a groan, grabbing my head. “Coming.”

“Sam!”

“Sams!” I clambered out of the car, stumbling into the street.

He stormed into the middle of the road, face to face with Dad, whose truck was pulled over behind the Impala.

“What the hell was that!” Dad yelled.

I glanced back to see the Richmonds stopped, watching from inside their car.

“We need to talk!” Sam spat.

“About what?” Dad fronted.

“About everything! Where we going, Dad? What’s the big deal about this gun? Huh?” Sam pressed forward.

“Sams, come on.” I begged.

“Sammy.” Dean warned.

“We can Q and A after we get the vamps.” I took a step forward, reaching for his arm.

“Your sister’s right, we don’t have time for this.” Dad sighed.

“Last time we saw you, you said it was too dangerous for us to be together. Now out of the blue you need our help.” Sam snatched his arm back, storming further toward Dad. “Now obviously something big is going down! And we wanna know what!”

“Get back in the car.” Dad growled through gritted teeth.

I shivered. Dad was angry, Sam was angry, and Dean and I had to figure out a way to play referee.

“No.” Sam spat.

“I said get back in the damn car!”

“Yeah! And I said no!” Sam yelled back.

Dean took a step forward, hovering right by me and Sam. “Okay, you made your point, tough guy.”

I elbowed Dean hard, keeping my eyes on Sam. “Look, we’re all tired and sore, we can talk about this later, Sams.”

“Sammy, she means it. Come on.” Dean pleaded.

Sam said nothing, but he let Dean and I push him back toward the car. He kept his glare on Dad, shuffling backward.

“This is why I left in the first place.” He mumbled.

Dad snapped back around. “What did you say?”

“You heard me.” Sam snarled, pushing past us once more.

“Yeah.” Dad’s nostrils flared. “You left. Your brother and sister and me, we needed you. You walked away, Sam.”

“Sams-”

“You walked away!” Dad howled, cutting me off.

“Stop it, both of you.” Dean whimpered, eyes getting wide.

“You’re the one who said don’t come back, Dad! You closed that door, not me! You were just pissed off that you couldn’t control me anymore!”

“Stop it!” I growled. “Both of you stop.”

I panted, letting the blood in my mouth spill past my lips and down my front. Dean sighed, grabbing me by the shoulders as I bared my teeth. Dad’s hand was on his gun, and Sam stepped in front of us.

Dad kept his hand on his gun and glared at me. “Olive, if you ever thi-”

“That’s enough.” Sam warned him.

“Sam-”

“Both of you quit it!” I bared my teeth again.

Sam and Dad stared at each other, and Dean pulled Sam back before looking at Dad.

“That means you too.”

They stayed silent. Dad backed away before storming to his car and slamming the door shut. Sam glanced at me with a worried look on his face and slid back into the Impala. Dean sighed, and my teeth cracked, fangs retracting.

“Fuck.” I spat blood, wiping my mouth on the back of my sleeve. “De?” I looked up at him with my own version of puppy dog eyes and he sighed.

“Yeah. You alright?”

I nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

A pause, and we both sighed. We looked from Dad’s truck to Sam in Baby, to the Richmonds, who were staring with wide eyes. Hunter was out, leaning against his open door.

“Fucking terrific.” Dean grumbled, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

***

A beat up camaro pulled into the driveway of the barn in the woods. A vampire came out of the house and held his hand up, protecting his eyes from the sun. Dean gasped, and I looked at Sam with wide eyes. His eyebrows were furrowed, and his head was tilted. The Richmonds each did something similar. We were ducked in the woods, watching the vamp nest. Jinx had been left in the car, sleeping on Dean’s jacket.

“Son of a bitch.” Dean grumbled.

“So they’re really not afraid of the sun?” Everett squinted.

Dad huffed. “Direct sunlight hurts like a nasty sunburn. The only way to kill ‘em is by beheading. They sleep during the day, doesn’t mean they won’t wake up.”

I sighed, and Dean leaned against the tree in front of him.

“So I guess walking right in isn’t our best option.” Sutton whispered.

Dad smiled. “Actually, that’s the plan.”

Everett turned to Dean with a bitchface. He mocked her as Sutton and Sam shared a worried glance. I looked at Hunter over my shoulder, and he looked pale. I held in a groan as my stomach turned.

As awful as it was of me to say it, I didn’t feel safe with Dad. I knew he would try to protect me, but his priority was always the hunt. If it came down to it, I was sure Dad would rather slice a vamp in two before rushing me to a hospital.

Dean noticed how I went stiff, and turned to me, reaching out a hand. I immediately took it and looked at him with full-blown fear on my face. He pulled me closer and kissed the top of my head.

It’s okay. I’ve got you.

***

“Is she good?” Dean asked as I shut the car door.

“Yeah, she’s still pretty sleepy. Just gotta make sure we take her on a walk tomorrow.” I pulled my jacket back on and met him by the trunk of the car.

“Hey, Dad, we’ve got an extra machete if you need one.” Dean called over his shoulder as he handed me one.

I slid it into the holster and looked over at Dad. He smiled, unveiling a huge, sparkling, serrated edge machete from a leather holster.

“I think I’m okay. Thanks.”

My jaw dropped and I hit Dean’s arm. He looked up, eyes going wide.

“Wow.”

The Richmonds crowded around, like students flocking to a teacher, or in this case, a pretty machete.

“So, you kids really wanna know about this Colt?” Dad asked.

Sutton nodded, and Everett holstered her machete. “Yes, sir.”

I flinched. They were just being polite. If we were working with Irene Richmond, we would be calling her ma’am. But hearing someone else call Dad “Sir” made me feel like we were boot camp kids, not his kids.

“It’s just a story. A legend, really.” He huffed. “Well, I thought it was. Never really believed it until I read Daniel’s letter.”

“He had it, right?” Hunter asked.

Dad nodded. “Back in 1835, when Halley’s comet was overhead, the same night those men died at the Alamo, they say Samuel Colt made a gun. A special gun.”

The six of us blinked at him. What could be so special about a gun?

Dad gave us his own version of a bitchface. “He made it for a hunter, a man like us, only on horseback. Story goes, he only made thirteen bullets. And this hunter used the gun half a dozen times before he disappeared, the gun along with him.” He sighed. “And somehow Daniel got his hands on it…” He paused with a slight shake of his head. “They say… they say this gun can kill anything.”

The Richmonds pulled back, shocked, and Dean’s eyes went wide.

“Kill anything, like…”

“Supernatural anything?” I looked up at Dean, who had trailed off.

“Like the demon.” Sam noted.

“Yeah.” Dad nodded. “The demon. Ever since I picked up its trail, I’ve been looking for a way to destroy the thing.”

Sutton nodded. “And if we find the gun-”

“We might have it.” Everett finished.

Dad nodded. “Exactly right, Richmond.”

***

Dad pushed the barn window open and disappeared into the darkness. Everett nodded at Dean as she followed. Sutton was next, followed by Sam. Hunter squared his shoulders before hopping in through the window. I glanced at Dean, nervous. He nodded.

It’s okay. I’m right behind you.

I sighed and dropped in through the window. Hunter was waiting for me on the other side, helping me get my feet on the ground. Dean jumped in and rolled onto his feet, standing straight. His chest was puffed, shoulders strong, and head up. I sighed internally. His confident posture provided some relief.

Some was better than nothing.

While Dad took off on his own, Everett and Sutton would stay together. Sam would be a few feet ahead of us, and Hunter and I were to stick to Dean’s side. We looked around the room. There were about a dozen vamps sleeping in hammocks strung up from the ceiling. Hunter led the way, following Sam as he made his way through the barn. Dean was behind me. Sam disappeared into the next room, and Hunter followed. There was the sound of glass thudding on the floor, and I whipped around, hand on my machete. Dean held a hand up, pointing to the ground by his foot. He had knocked an empty beer bottle over. I let out a low breath and pressed on.

“Dean. Olive.” Sam whispered.

Dean followed me into the next room, where Hunter and Sam were trying to untie a woman hooked around a pole. She was unconscious, or maybe even dead, her head hanging loosely and her skin drained of color. There was a clink of metal, and Dean turned around.

“There’s more.” He grumbled.

Hunter nodded at me and moved to follow Dean. I unclipped the pocket knife from my belt and began to cut the woman’s ropes. I glanced over my shoulder to see the boys standing in front of a metal cage, full of people that were out cold. Dean slammed something against the lock, and Sam’s head snapped up, eyes wide.

We looked at the hammocks, but everything was perfectly still.

Too still.

The voice in my head was low and grumbly. I blinked, and Sam whispered something, but not to me.

Too. Still. Get out.

There was a roar that sounded more jarring than mine, and Sam leaped a foot in the air. Dean and Hunter spun around. Vampires came crawling from every possible corner, and I let out a loud howl, fangs sliding out.

“Olive, Sam!” Dean barked.

Sam ran forward and yanked me off my feet, throwing me over his shoulder as he started toward Dean.

“Run!” Everett and Sutton came out through a hallway, pulling Hunter with them.

Dean led the way, and I snapped at the approaching vamps as Sam carried me away. The three of us called for Dad in a chorus of shouts, and a growl ripped through my throat again.

Sam dropped me onto my feet once we reached the top of the hill. Sutton put her hands on her knees, and Hunter sniffed, tears welling in his eyes. Everett looked pissed. Dean turned back around, trying to scramble back down the hill. I yanked him back by the collar of his shirt with a snarl.

I held him back easily.

“Dad?” He called out.

There was no answer, and the adrenaline in my system was beginning to die out. I huffed, chest rising and falling as Dean began to shake.

“Dad!”

Still nothing.

Sutton put a hand on Sam’s arm. “I’m so sorry.”

Tears fell down Hunter’s cheeks, and Everett shook her head, looking away.

“Kids!” Dad came into sight, unharmed.

We let out sighs of relief as we turned back up toward the hill, ready to book it to the cars.

“They won’t follow.” Dad panted. “They’ll wait til tonight. Once a vampire smells your blood, it’s for life.”

Everett shrugged. “Okay. Nobody’s bleeding.”

I spat onto the floor and looked up with a glare. Dad seemed angry.

“Well, Olive left a lot behind.”

I shrunk back, and Dean grabbed me by the hand.

It’s okay. It isn’t your fault.

“Okay, so what the hell do we do now?” Sam scowled.

“We gotta find the nearest funeral home, that’s what.” Dad huffed.

We tilted our heads at him, then looked at each other.

What?

***

“Alright. Stay down, no matter what. You hear me?” Dean hissed.

“Yeah, fine.” I huffed as I sunk down into the bench, gripping my machete.

I was bait, stuck in the car while Dean popped the hood open and stared at the engine. Jinx was in the Richmonds’ car, probably snuggled up in Hunter’s jacket. She loved him almost as much as she loved us.

“Car trouble?”

My grip on the machete tightened and my stomach began to hurt.

“Let me give you a life. I’ll take you back to my place.”

I rolled my eyes. Did this bitch of a vamp really think she could get Dean Winchester into bed?

“Nah, I’ll pass.” I could see the grin on Dean’s face. “I usually draw the line at necrophilia.”

“Ooh.” There was a sound of skin against skin, and I flinched.

She must’ve hit him.

“I don’t usually get this friendly until the second date, but…” He sounded strained.

“You know, we could have some fun. I always like to make new friends.” She taunted.

There was a long pause, and then Dean made a noise of disgust. “Oh, wow. Sorry. I don’t usually stay with a chick that long. Definitely not for eternity.”

There were two wet thuds, and I sat up, pushing myself out of the car with a grunt.

“Dammit.” She was blonde, and the arrow was sticking out of her chest. “You.” She narrowed her eyes at me, dropping Dean.

He fell to the ground before scrambling back to his feet. Dad, Sam, and the Richmonds came out of the trees, each with a crossbow. Hunter was the only one with a regular bow, hooked over his shoulder as he stared at the vamp with murder in his eyes.

“It barely even stings.” She taunted.

“Give it time, sweetheart.” Dad grinned. “That arrow’s soaked in dead man’s blood.”

“It’s like poison to you.”

“Isn’t it?”

Her face drained further and she crashed to the ground. Dad hummed, satisfied.

“Alright, kids. Load her up.” He nodded toward the other vamp. “I’ll take care of this one.”

Sam handed his crossbow off to me as he grabbed the vamp by her wrists. Dean grabbed her by the ankles, and they hoisted her off the ground. Sutton and Everett pulled the tarp off the bed of Dad’s truck, and the boys dumped the vamp as Dad beheaded the other. Hunter and I both flinched, inching closer to each other, and then our siblings.

“Okay, let’s hit the road.”

***

Dad shut a brown paper bag as he and Dean came from the Impala to the fire. Sam and Everett were circling with their machetes. Sutton was keeping the fire alive while Hunter and I were sharpening our own weapons.

“Toss this on the fire.” Dad handed me the bag. “Saffron, skunk’s cabbage and trillium. It’ll block our scent and hers, until we’re ready.”

Hunter pulled the bag open and took a whiff before rearing back and coughing. I turned my nose up and dumped the bag over the fire. Jinx whined, edging as far away as she could.

“Dad, this stuff stinks.”

He nodded, laughing. “That’s the idea. Dust your clothes with the ashes, and you stand a chance of not being detected.

“You’re sure they’ll come after her?” Everett asked.

Dad nodded. “Vampires mate for life. She means more to the leader than the gun does.”

“The blood sickness is gonna wear off soon, won’t it?” Hunter looked up.

“Yeah. You don’t have a lot of time.”

“Half hour oughta do it.” Sam mumbled.

“And then I want you six out of the area as soon as possible.” Dad ordered.

“But…”

“Well-”

“Dad, you can’t take them on all by yourself.” I scowled.

“I’ll have her.” Dad grumbled. “And the Colt.”

“But after.” Sam narrowed his eyes. “We’re gonna meet up. Right?”

Nothing.

“Use the gun together. Right?”

Dad stayed silent. My jaw clenched and the Richmonds sunk down, trying to stay unseen.

“He’s leaving again.” I snapped.

“You still wanna go after the demon alone.” Sam let out a breath. “You know, I don’t get you, Dad. You can’t keep treating us like this.”

“Like we’re kids, Dad!”

“You are a kid, Olive. You’re my children. I’m trying to keep you safe.” Dad hissed.

“I’m fifteen. I’m a hunter. I am not a child.” I spoke through gritted teeth.

“You’re a kid!” He roared. “I am trying to keep you safe!”

“Dad. All due respect, but that’s a load of shit.” Dean shook his head.

Sam and Dad snapped to look his way, shocked. I squared my shoulders, feeling increasingly confident. Dean was on my side.

“Excuse me?”

“Olive isn’t a kid. She had to grow up faster than Sam and I did. You know what the three of us have been hunting. Hell, you sent us on a few hunting trips yourself.” Dean shook his head again. “You can’t be that worried about keeping us safe.”

“That is not the same thing, Dean.”

I glanced over at the Richmonds. Hunter’s eyes were trained on us, and Sutton and Everett were staring at the ground.

“Then what is it, Dad? Why do you want us out of the big fight so damn bad?” Dean pressed.

“This demon? It’s a bad son of a bitch!” Dad’s voice rose again. “I can’t make the same moves if I’m worried about keeping you alive!”

“You mean you can’t be as reckless.” Dean grumbled.

“We don’t need you to keep us alive, Dad!” I yelled, pulling at my hair. “We have each other! We’ve been keeping each other alive for the last fifteen fucking years!”

“Look.” Dad glared at me. “I don’t expect it to make it out of this fight in one piece. Boys, your mother’s death… it almost killed me.” He shook his head. “I can’t watch my children die too. I won’t.”

“And what happens if you die?” Dean scoffed. “Dad, what happens if you die, and we could’ve done something about it? You know what I’ve been thinking?” He sighed. “I think that Sammy’s right about this one.”

I nodded. “Dad, we should do this together.”

“We’re stronger as a family, Dad.” Dean whispered. “We just are. You know it.”

Dad paused, and I felt my hopes rise. Sam made his classic puppy-eyes, and Dean’s bottom lip trembled.

“We’re running out of time. You do your job and you get the hell out of dodge. That’s an order.”

Dean looked down, tears welling in his eyes. Sam’s jaw clenched, and I felt my teeth chatter. I was shaking, pissed off.

“Dad, you-”

Dean clapped a hand over my mouth and pulled me back. My nostrils flared and I tried to get away, but Sam pushed me back down toward Dean. The Richmonds popped to their feet, glaring. Hunter scooped Jinx up as she barked.

“Ollie, stop.” Dean begged, voice breaking.

“Olive, what did you say?” Dad snapped, taking a step forward.

I smacked Dean’s hands away and all but lunged over Sam’s shoulder.

“You’re an ass!”

“Olive!” Dean shouted, in tears.

Dad glared at me, jaw set. I spit on the ground as my teeth shifted around. Dad leaned down, pushing his face close to mine.

“Say it again, Olive.”

“You. Are. An. Ass.” I hissed. “And you can go to hell.”

Dad’s hand wound back before coming back across my cheek. His knuckles dug into my cheekbone, and I was sent stumbling back into my brothers. One of them caught me as blood sprayed out past my lips.

“Dad, that’s enough!” Sam howled.

“Hunter, no.” I glanced over to see Everett holding him by the shoulders.

“Ollie-”

“Olive, if you ever disrespect me like that again, it’ll be the last time.” Dad warned before turning on his heel and storming to his car.

“Olive.” Dean cradled me in his arms, holding me against his chest.

“I’m fine.” I mumbled, letting my head fall back.

The Richmonds scrambled over. Sutton and Everett said nothing as they stared at us. Hunter was on his knees, hands going for my ankles. Jinx howled, sniffing me and whining. I patted her head.

“Olive?”

“I’m okay.” I muttered.

“Ollie, you can’t do that.” Dean whispered.

“She didn’t do anything wrong, Dean.” Sam glared, kneeling down to take me from him.

“I’m okay.” I swallowed. “Promise.”

“Sammy, I know she didn’t do anything.”

“She just told him the truth.” Sam hissed.

“Olive, you can’t say those things to him. You know how he gets. It’s not your fault, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Dean grabbed my cheeks. “But he’ll do it again if you say anything to him. And we can’t protect you.”

“Get off your shit, Winchester!” Everett shouted. “That’s your kid, you can’t let him put his hands on her!”

Sam’s nostrils flared again. “She's right. We can protect her. We should. She’s our baby sister. We have to protect her.”

Jinx howled, sensing the tensions. She jumped at Hunter, who picked her up again, holding her under his arm.

“Let’s go.” I pushed myself to my feet and stumbled forward.

Hunter caught me and put a hand on my cheek. “Olive. Jesus.”

“We don’t have time for this.” I squirmed away and toward the car.

***

Dean held a hand out, and I stayed behind him, bouncing on my toes. The vamp took a swig from a bottle before turning around, facing us.

“Boo.” Dean spat as he swung his machete.

The head rolled onto the ground as I followed him across the barn, making it to the caged people.

“Told you we’d be back.” He grinned at the ones that were awake as we began to smash the locks.

***

Dad dragged the vamp forward by the arm, picking his gun off the ground. She struggled, and the guy vamp appeared from beside the barn, ready to fight. He was followed by a few others, all on edge and angry looking.

I was bouncing on my toes, behind Dean and next to Sam. Everett was next to Dean, Hunter and Sutton crouching behind her.

“It’s a nice move. You almost made it.” The vamp growled at Dad.

The girl swung around, knocking Dad against his truck. The gun went flying, and the guy stalked up to Dad, backhanding him. Dad slunk down to the ground, out cold. Dean aimed his crossbow and shot one of the vamps. We ran out, and Sam stood at his full height, approaching the alpha male. He hit Sam in the chest, and Sam stumbled backward. I pulled out my machete and went for him, but the vamp held Sam in a headlock.

“Don’t! I’ll break his neck!” He growled. “Put the weapons down.”

I dropped the machete and put my hands up. Dean did nothing, and the vamp tightened his arm around Sam. Sam struggled, panic growing in his eyes. I turned and glared at Dean, who dropped the crossbow. Dad moved from behind him, but I kept my eyes on Sam.

“You people.” His arm tightened again. “Why can’t you leave us alone? We have as much right to live as you do.”

“I don’t think so.” Dad hissed.

The vamp dropped Sam, who stumbled forward on his hands and knees. Dean and I both reached for him, and once Sam was on his feet, he pulled me behind him. Dean did the same with him. Dad shot the vamp between the eyes. He grunted as a flash of light showed his skeleton. He fell to his knees, dead.

“Luther!” The girl screamed.

She ran at Dad, but another vamp grabbed her and dragged her into their car. They took off, tires squealing. Dad smiled, satisfied. I clung to Sam with a sigh.

“Let’s go.”

***

The door swung open, and I jumped, on edge. We were packing our bags, ready to hit the road. The Richmonds had caught the trail of another case and had split earlier.

“So, kids.” Dad shut the door behind him.

I sighed as I shoved a shirt into my bag. Sam nudged me, and I crossed my arms over my chest as I turned to face him.

“Yes sir.” Sam cleared his throat.

“You ignored a direct order back there.”

“Yes sir.” Sam repeated.

“But we saved your ass.” I hissed.

Dean immediately stepped in front of me as Sam eyed me, swallowing nervously. Jinx whined from her spot on one of the beds.

“You’re right.” Dad nodded.

I blinked, shoulders dropping. “I am?”

Dad sighed. “It scares the hell out of me. You three are all I’ve got. But I guess we are stronger as a family. So… we go after this damn thing. Together.”

“Yes sir.”

“Olive. I’m sorry.” Dad sighed at me.

I shook my head. “Doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is that we take this son of a bitch down.”

He smiled. “You really are your brother’s sister.”

Previous Ep: Provenance (1.19)

Next Ep: Salvation (1.21)

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mattzerella-sticks · 5 years

Text

You Do, a Sam-centric, Dean/Castiel coda for 15x06 “Golden Time”, 4.9k

Sam feels like he's the only one that cares about defeating Chuck. Dean, while physically present, cannot bother to lend a hand. And Cas is willing to help, but would rather do it on his own.

After Cas lets slip that the reason for his voluntary exile begins with the letter 'D' and rhymes with Mean, Sam puts Chuck on the back burner to deal with the more pressing issue of reuniting Dean and his best friend. Only with how stubborn Dean is avoiding research, it'll be ten times worse to make him talk to Cas.

Luckily Sam has a few new tricks up his sleeve now that he embraces an aspect of himself he never allowed himself to try. Will he help his brother do what needs to be done? Or will his plan bring forth an entirely unexpected outcome?

Sam waits until Dean leaves to sag against his seat. He scrubs a hand down his face, hoping he can wipe away the pent-up frustration caused by Dean’s visit. Unfortunately its roots sunk deep and cannot be torn so easily.

The worst part was Dean barely did anything to warrant such powerful irritation.

Dean strolled in for all of five minutes, robe sweeping behind him, asking where his slippers were. Sam glanced away from the page of his book to find his brother barefooted. Toes wiggling underneath the wide curtain of his cowboy print pajamas. A welcome change from the hot dogs glued to Dean’s legs, except Sam can’t stare at the pants for too long without blushing. Always stumbling across one cowboy or another that looked inappropriate.

“I don’t know, Dean,” Sam said, “Why don’t you check the last place you wore them and start from there?”

He thought that would drive Dean elsewhere. Instead Dean took his suggestion as an invitation, lounging across the table from him with a bag of chips on his lap. Forcing Sam to listen while he checked off every memory with his slippers present in them. Chomped on his snack with crumbs spewing every couple of words, a few shooting so far ahead they land on his book.

A blood vessel in Sam’s forehead twinged with the need to burst. “Dean,” Sam cut him off, interrupting his retelling of when he used one of his slippers to kill a spider in the dungeons. “If you hadn’t noticed, I’m kind of busy…”

“You are?”

“Yeah,” he said, wagging the book, “Research… to take down Chuck?”

A dark shadow crossed his expression, surfacing briefly only to disappear in the next moment. “Right…”

Sam arched a brow. “Y’know, you could forget about the slippers and join -”

“I think I just remembered where they are,” he said, standing. “Thanks for the help, Sammy.” Dean shuffled towards the exit, a cowboy riding a stallion with back arched in pleasure the last thing he saw.

He marks the page he was on, shutting the book. Too bothered to continue researching. Pointless even trying since there’s a more pressing problem that persists, an obstacle better dealt with before facing Chuck. Because if there’s any chance of beating God, Sam needs his brother and not the sad, soft shell wearing his clothes and eating his food.

Eating all their food. They don’t have the money to support Dean’s void-like stomach. Sam almost purchased an array of healthy snacks during the last grocery trip. Only rejecting the idea when he imagined how bad of a fit Dean would pitch if Sam returned with peapods and gluten-free wafers. Or, worse, his brother accepting the food with indifference.

Dean’s spiral spun so far down Sam wouldn’t put it past him. It frightens Sam to see his brother like this, especially since he figured it was over after their milk-run to Rowena’s. After Sam broke past Dean’s walls with his plaintive speech and offered a hand to help him out of his darkness. Like he did for him when Chuck’s betrayal and Rowena’s death were still fresh wounds.

But where Sam let Dean pull him to safety, it seems Dean left Sam hanging.

“I don’t know what to do,” Sam confesses, his soft voice echoing in the cavernous library. He taps his fingers on the book, gnawing on his lip.

There were only so many options to choose from, and Sam exhausted most of them. Space only gave Dean’s depression room to grow. Confronting it hadn’t worked either. Giving Dean a target to focus his anger, confusion, and sadness failed for the first time in a long while. And Sam’s Hail Mary never answered his messages.

Still… Sam looks to his phone, wondering. The next call could be the one. That spark of hope pushes him to grabbing his phone and redialing Cas’s number.

Unlike every other time he tried, Cas picks up on the third ring.

“Hello?”

“Cas!” Sam sighs, an ounce of relief pouring into him. “Cas, man, it’s so good to hear you.”

“It’s… nice to hear from you as well.”

“Where have you been?” he asks, “It’s not like you to go so long without at least checking up. We were worried about you.”

“I… I’m sure you were worried, Sam,” Cas says, tone immediately curdling the relief in Sam’s stomach. “I was away. After everything with Chuck and Jack and De… and it all, I needed some time to myself.”

Sam nods, frown marring his face. “Understandable. Wish you could have told us -”

“I expressed my intentions clearly to Dean,” Cas says, “Has he not told you?”

“Now that you ask…” Fear plucks a frightful chord across Sam’s heart. “Dean hadn’t mentioned it at all.” Thinking back, Dean doesn’t talk about Cas anymore unless prompted. Gone were the hours he would spend telling Sam pointless stories of times he and Cas were together. Mentioning the angel when something reminded Dean of him. Staring at his phone with a tiny smile on his face, in deep conversation with Cas.

“Of course.”

There’s an empty space Cas tiptoes around, an event not mentioned. “What -”

“So,” Cas interrupts, “Chuck is picking up where he left off?”

“Yeah,” Sam says, “But -”

“But we will do our best to stop him,” he finishes for him, “I’m already on my way towards Heaven, to see if there might be anything there that he forgot. That might detail a weakness of some kind.”

“That’s a good idea,” Sam shrugs, “but I could really use you here…”

A harsh breath blows through the speaker. “I… I’m already halfway to Heaven’s gate, Sam. Turning around now would be… it would be a waste of my usability.”

“That doesn’t matter Cas,” Sam tells him, “Right now Heaven can wait. You’re more important. What with you leaving so suddenly after the hellmouth, we never got the chance to check in.”

Silence. Sam waits for Cas’s response, checking every now and then to make sure the angel didn’t hang up on him. “Sorry,” he says after a while, “I… I was distracted. You want to know how I’m feeling?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m… fine .”

“Really?” Sam arches his brows so high they fly off to Missouri. “ Fine ?”

“Why is that so hard to believe?”

“Because none of us are fine,” Sam scoffs, “I wasn’t for awhile and Dean, he…” He pauses, expecting Cas to jump in and demand he continue. Only it never comes. “Dean, he,” Sam fumbles awkwardly, “He’s kind of let the whole thing get to him and… it’s bad over here.”

Cas hums over the line. “I see… this call wasn’t about Chuck. It’s about Dean.”

“Cas -”

“If Dean truly has need of me ,” he says, voice wet and thick, hoarse from keeping something at bay, “than Dean should be able to call and express this himself. But per my last conversation with him, Sam, I highly doubt I’m the solution you seek. I’d probably just… make everything worse .”

“What? No - Cas -”

“I have to go, Sam,” Cas sighs, “there are patrol cars lined up along the highway, and I’d rather not be pulled over for talking on the phone. Goodbye.” He hangs up despite Sam’s protest, a flat beep ringing in his ears.

Sam taps the end button, mulling over the conversation. Uses the few minutes spent with Cas to shed light on weeks observing his brother. Rethinks his earlier judgments about the root of his problems. Whenever life slights Dean he focuses all his anger and fury on it. It helped them countless times during hunts or facing powerful enemies. Except if Dean’s target is himself, all that destruction turns inward.

Which explains absolutely everything about Dean’s behavior.

“Dammit, Dean…” Sam tugs at his hair, annoyance flaring up at his brother’s actions. Whatever they were sent fissures into the foundation of his and Cas’s relationship. The shockwaves wrecking everything else around them. Worse, Sam only realizing too late.

Now Dean haunts the Bunker’s hall, the only ghost left, and their friend keeps his spirit tethered with his anger.

“There’s got to be a way to fix it…”

Sam knows what has to happen, and how unlikely it will come to pass. Dean would rather spend twenty hours surrounded by books than take steps towards repairing his mistakes. Even with the years of growth under his belt. Because when it comes to Cas, Dean is too short. And Cas followed his lead.

Meaning neither have ever finished a fight, preferring to drop it and sweep a rug over what happened. Neglect the necessary fixes until, apparently, the wood under their feet rotted through and sent them crashing into the shit they buried.

“Not this time,” Sam says, standing, “This time they can’t ignore it.”

His passion wanes when he thinks about forcing two of the most stubborn people to do things they aren’t ready for. While he may have wounded God, Sam lacks the necessary power to switch up the script.

“Or,” he thinks, glancing at a nearby box, “maybe I don’t?”

It’s not any of the stuff they carried in from Rowena’s study. Instead one of the two they scrounged from the truck where the coven they ganked hid. Sam digs through the hex bags and books to find what he needs. A needle. String. Buttons, hay, herbs, and lots of tarp.

There’s one ingredient missing though. Sam sneaks over to Dean’s room, hoping his brother hadn’t nested there yet. Luck shines on him. It’s empty save the empty cartons, bags, and bottles scattered around the room. He quickly sifts through all of it for a single hair on Dean’s pillow. Then Sam races back to the library to set to work.

Unfortunately with all the technical knowledge, Sam isn’t the craftiest witch. His thread zig-zags unevenly in the overstuffed doll’s body, and the button eyes are placed crookedly on the ‘face’. One of its arms are longer than the other, and the legs disproportionately half the size of the body.

“That’s not important,” he says, scanning his handiwork, “it’s a vessel for the spell. Nothing more.” Clutching the doll tightly to his chest, Sam moves onto the next stage in his hastily thrown together plan. Find Dean.

If not in his room, Sam knows the only other place he will be.

Peeking into the kitchen, hidden by the shadows, Sam sees his brother chomping on a massive sandwich. Headphones affixed to his ears, another break that lessens the difficulty of Sam’s work.

Sam brings the doll to his lips, almost an inch of space between it and the head. “Dean,” he says, “eating isn’t going to fix anything. You’re being a stubborn idiot, hurting Cas and yourself in the process.”

Dean stiffens, cheeks puffed out with food. Swallowing, he looks at the sandwich in his hands. Then places it on the dish in disgust.

Smirking, Sam continues. “You can’t do this anymore, pretend that you’re okay. Because you’re not. There’s only one thing that can fix this - Cas . Don’t be afraid, anymore, Dean. You know what to do… now give it to him.”

A slight rustle in the kitchen forces Sam to press himself against the hallway, doll smothered in his stomach. With the limited vision he has, Sam watches Dean shuffle towards an exit. His .

“The other way,” Sam suggests to the doll, “go the other way!”

Dean pauses, brows scrunching for a moment until they disappear with a turn. His brother retreats the other way, Sam breathing a sigh of relief.

With the kitchen abandoned, Sam claims the space for himself. Wraps Dean’s grotesque creation to preserve it if he wants and grabs a beer for himself. Takes Dean’s place and drinks in victory.

When the bottle hits the table Sam feels an unnerving stare tickling his chin.

The voodoo doll stares at him from its resting place, reminding him of the steps taken to achieve success. Without annoyance or excitement distorting his thoughts, Sam reviews what he did with a clear mind. How he used magic to influence his brother’s actions. His brother who confessed how much he struggles with identifying which were his own choices and which were those of a higher power.

His beer tastes flat. “What did I do…” he sighs, leaning on the table. Sam cannot stop Dean, probably on the phone with Cas. Helped across the final obstacle with Sam’s magic.

“It’s all for the best,” he reminds himself, “it was a one-time thing.”

Unable to take the judgmental glare from the expressionless doll, Sam snatches it and heads to his room. Hides it in his nightstand drawer and leaves for the library again.

Hoping his ‘help’ didn’t drive the wedge deeper.

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

All day, Sam stalked Dean’s every movement. From breakfast in the morning to cautiously snooping around the corner when he went to the bathroom. Curious to see if his suggestion from yesterday carried over. However nothing seemed too bizarre.

Actually Dean fell into normalcy, yesterday’s magical shove exactly what he needed to climb from the hole he wallowed in. Dean changed into actual clothes and set about doing chores. Cleaning floors, folding laundry - while it wasn’t research Sam took the signs as symbols of recovery. Dean moves at his own pace, and will research when he feels ready. Given the unburdened state of his shoulders, it could be any day.

By the time night rolls around, Sam lulled into easy comfort.

Suddenly the Bunker door slams open with the force of a hurricane, echoing throughout the cavernous building. Sam, on his way to the kitchen, spins on his heel. Drops his book to reach for his gun. Freezing only when he notices the recognizable figure gazing down at them. Chest heaving with words he stutters to speak.

“Cas?” Dean asks, hold on his gun limp, “Cas… what are you?”

“Did you mean it?”

Dean stiffens in his seat, cold metal of his weapon clattering to the floor. Sam, thankful it was on safety, finds his nerves fraying further after noticing the tense way Dean holds himself. “What?” he asks, breaking his and Cas’s stare.

“Did… you… mean it?” Each step carries a blow more powerful than any amount of Heavenly wrath. Dean flinches with each point of contact between the stairs and Cas. Retreats into his shell the closer Cas flies.

Sam rushes between them before Cas lays a hand on Dean. His mind races with an apology, heart sinking at how his plan soured. “Cas, it’s -”

“Quiet,” he tells him, “This doesn’t concern you.”

“But -” “Dean,” Cas says, softer now. Like they’re in the eye of his storm. “Dean, you left me a message. Did you mean it?”

His brother drags the answer out. Rubs his neck, then his shoulder, and finally squeezes his cheeks and releases a puff of air. “Look,” he starts, “if you’re reacting this bad -”

“That’s not what I asked.” Cas’s lip trembles when he asks again, “Did you mean it ?” A shine catches Sam’s eye, and at first he thinks it’s his friend’s blade. Only, on closer inspection, he realizes it’s Cas’s phone. “Dean, please -”

“Yes, I did.” Dean keeps his lids closed shut, wrinkles layered over each other on his face while he braces for impact. “I… I always did, Cas,” he admits. A whisper Sam strains to hear.

“Dean…” Cas pushes past Sam and lunges for Dean. Sam shouts, lost in the clatter of the chair and the other’s yelps. He strides over to pry Cas off his brother, and nearly trips over his own feet when Sam sees Dean’s arms wind tight around Cas’s midsection. Hears the familiar sounds of an almost-not fight that makes his ears burst into flames. Peeking at their faces, Sam confirms his suspicions.

They’re kissing. Through tears, smiles, and laughter, they kiss. Cas pulls back, gasping for breath. Forehead against Dean’s, he asks, “All this time?”

“Of course,” Dean says, “I might not have known it but… looking back, it’s the only thing that makes sense.”

Aware of how their lips drift toward each other again, Sam clears his throat. Dean tears his gaze away and remembers Sam’s presence. He sits up, Cas in his lap, and smiles with too much innocence. “Hey Sam…”

“Hey,” he says, looking between them, “so…” “So…” Dean shrugs, “so this is a thing?”

“Apparently…” “My apologies Sam,” Cas says, standing. Offers a hand to Dean and when he rises to full height does not let go. “I was a little… focused on my mission.”

“Your… your mission,” Sam frowns, ache surfacing from the depths of his consciousness to nudge at his temple. “You mean to Heaven -”

Cas flushes a worrisome crimson. “I… I almost forgot…”

“Forgot what?”

“I had parked outside Heaven’s gate when I noticed my phone,” he turns to Dean, “after listening I forgot all about Chuck, about -”

Dean shushes him, gently running his thumb across Cas’s cheek. “It’s okay. You can go to Heaven some other time. Right now it’s more important you’re here and we can…” His gaze briefly flits over to Sam. “We can discuss what was said… in private?”

“Private?”

“My room,” Dean clarifies. The words hissed under breath as if speed could muddle their intention. Sam and Cas understood regardless.

“Of course,” Cas beams. Twitches while he tries to measure the amount of joy he shows on his face but unable to fight the curl of his lips. “Much more important things to talk about.” He follows Dean out of the room, Sam left behind with an upturned chair, Dean’s gun, confusion, and a phone.

Cas’s phone.

Sam snatches it without hesitation. Righting the fallen chair, he opens the phone with no hesitation. Concern for his friend’s privacy very low on his radar, overpowered by the burning curiosity to figure out what Dean said to inspire an action like Cas’s embrace. And why he returned it.

Since Cas doesn’t have a password protecting his phone, it takes a few seconds to find the evidence he needs.

Sam hovers over the play button, conscious finally kicking in. Wonders if he truly needs to hear an obviously intimate conversation that, in the grand scheme of their life, does not involve him. But then he thinks about the voodoo doll he has sitting in his dresser, and begins the voicemail. Knowing that none of this would be possible without his interference.

He listens, and sees the whole picture for what it is.

“Hey Cas, it’s… it’s me, Dean. I’m - uh… I’m calling because I, well, because I thought about praying and then I thought about how Chuck could listen in on that like some perv…” Some shame oozes into Sam. “But this, it feels like a prayer. You’re probably feeling a little twinge, right now, aren’t you? Probably not now, because you didn’t answer the phone. But whatever you’re doing you might… and prayer or no prayer, Chuck seems to know what goes on in our lives anyway so… I guess I got to get over it. It’s not like this is a dirty secret. Even though I’ve kind of… kind of felt like it was. For a long time. Too long. When I… when I should have been not doing that.”

“Cas, I… I love you.” The bombshell explodes without prompt, Sam nearly losing the rest of Dean’s voicemail in the whistling fallout. “I don’t really say it and when I do, I… it comes out all wrong. Because you look sad afterwards like I don’t mean it the way you think I do. But I do. I love you in the purest sense of the word, man. For so long I’ve been afraid of you knowing that and of… of loving you, but I shouldn’t be. If I’d said all this sooner I… maybe you wouldn’t have left. Or it would have hurt more when you did. Don’t know how it can hurt more than it is now… I already feel like there’s a crater in my chest because when you moved on you took my heart with you. Even though I tried to not let that happen. Thought that us, everything that happened was because of Chuck because you’re his kid and… you have to admit, it’s a hell of a story…” A wet chuckle rasps over the line, followed by a labored breath. “S’why I kept you an arm’s length away during the ghost-pocalypse. Why I’ve been struggling since then I… I don’t know what’s real and what’s your Dad. Figured I could sort my life out but Chuck putting himself back on the board sent my already shaky sense of self into a tailspin.”

“But him being back also… I think I’ve gotten a sense of how he writes us. On what he forced on us. Everything he ever wrote has been about bringing the maximum amount of pain. All geared towards driving our family apart. Every cruel act and lie and whisper into my head to do the wrong thing were him. And of that list, Cas… you’re none of those things. You make us whole - make me whole. That… Chuck doesn’t want that. The fact we keep finding each other after all we’ve been through, what tries to keep us apart, from demons to God, that’s all the proof I need that we’re it for each other. We… we’re real. ”

“And I let Chuck feed me a crock of shit and I spiraled. Been spiraling since mom died and Jack… I, I can’t blame Chuck for all of it, though I’d loved to. He threw all of that at me and I swung exactly like he planned. I’m sorry, Cas, for not treating you the way you deserve. Showing you exactly what you mean to me. I can’t change the past but I want to fix the future, so you’ll be in it. It might be too little too late… and for once we can’t make all the pieces fit like they used to. Knowing that, I don’t regret telling you I love you. Because if we’re gonna be able to beat Chuck, we need all of us together. Working as a unit. A family. I won’t be much help to anyone if I can’t be in the same room with you, choking on all these feelings. After he’s gone, if you still want to move on… I won’t blame you. All we’ve been through, you deserve happiness the same as us. If it’s with someone else… then they’re a right lucky bastard or bitch, whoever they are. So… yeah, that’s it. I’m gonna, I’m gonna hang up? Yeah, bye -”

It cuts off, the answering machine’s voice speaking over Dean’s about how there’s no more room left on Cas’s phone for the rest of his message. Not that it matters since everything that was supposed to be said found its way out of Dean’s mouth.

Sam wipes at his eyes, smiling at the phone. Chest filled with happiness for two of the most important people in his life. That they were able to wade through the never-ending flood and reunite again. Cards laid fully on the table, nothing in their hands.

With a little help. The voodoo’s vacant stare flashes in Sam’s mind, reminding him of how he whispered into it to bring about this confession. His stomach churns at the thought. The guild he swallowed down returning with a vengeance. But then it all settles as he considers his exact command.

Worded with no intention of romance, Sam wanted Dean to grow up and realize Cas held no fault in what went down with Chuck. But his brother went the extra measure, shoveling part of his repressed, forty-year old bullshit into the furnace as a grand gesture to show his angel that there was more than one endgame to be had.

Laughing, Sam places the phone down and stands. “Dean and Cas…” he says, years of memories coloring themselves anew given the necessary context. “How could I’ve been so blind…” He squints, lips thinning. “Chuck… that’s why.”

He flattens his palm against his wound, the skin dully flaring giving Sam the impression that his nightmares will be extra bloody tonight. “At least one of us will have sweet dreams,” he sighs, shuffling to his room.

Sleep is far from his mind, especially given what awaits him when his head hits the pillow, but Sam walks with purpose. To tie up the last loose end of this misadventure.

The voodoo doll hadn’t moved since he used it last. Resting against a well-worn spell book, awake. Sam picks it up and pinches the thread tying it together.

“Nothing’s ever going to control our lives again, Chuck… you hear me?”

The string stays where it was, the doll still whole. Sam rubs it between his thumb and finger, wickedness striking in the final hour before the doll’s demise. An impish grin unfurls across his face. “After this,” he amends, “After tonight… I already helped Dean make one healthy choice, who’s to say I can’t suggest a few others.”

Sam replaces the doll in his hand with the spell book, reclining on his bed to wait. Reads until the clock ticks closer to midnight and then beyond. When his eyes can barely hold themselves open any longer and the neon green numbers glow in single digits, Sam grabs the voodoo doll of his brother once more. Whispers the prank in a scratchy voice, mirth poking through. Finished, he sets both items down and readies for bed.

Looking forward to sleep and what awaits him in the morning.

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

Sam stretches on his path to the Bunker’s exit, readying for another late morning jog. A road block appears, however, in the form of his brother in similar dress. Yellow hoodie snug over his chest and a pair of sweatpants with dried stains by the pockets. Sneakers Sam wasn’t sure Dean owned tied tight over his feet. “Dean?” he starts, “you going out?”

“Hey,” Dean says, eyes brightening, “I’m glad I caught you.”

“You are?”

“Yeah…” His brother rubs at his neck awkwardly, a ketchup-colored blush staining his cheeks, complimenting his mustard hoodie. “Yeah, I… I wanted to see if you’d let me come jogging with you?”

“You… want to go jogging?” A question not really framed like one. Sam already knowing the answer.

Dean nods, “Yeah, I… I don’t know. Last night, Cas and I had this talk about unhealthy habits and what I could do to stop them. When I woke up I… I guess it bled into other aspects of my life, because I couldn’t get the idea of jogging out of my head!” He chuckles, dipping up to gaze at Sam for a brief moment. “Weird, right?”

Sam finds it the exact opposite. Because after giving his brother and angel a few hours of privacy, he snatched the Dean voodoo doll from his nightstand and whispered a few things to it. Incepted the idea of wanting to jog with him into his mind. Still he agrees, since Sam didn’t expect there to be a logical narrative supporting his prank. “You’re always welcome to jog with me, Dean,” he says.

“Perfect.” They continue their trek, Dean mirroring Sam’s stretches with a few second-delay.

At the foot of the stairs, Sam stops them again. “Wait, did Cas want to join us?”

Dean shakes his head, giving Sam hope his other message wormed its way in. “Sent him out on a grocery run. Had the strangest craving for, uh… veggie bacon.”

“Veggie bacon?” Sam gasps, “In the Meat Man’s kitchen?”

“Shut up.” Dean shoves him, stomping up the steps, “That was so dumb… regret ever telling you that.”

Sam follows with a doggish grin, “At least you realize it now!” Dean flips him off, exiting the Bunker. He watches the door slip close, trailing behind at his own pace.

His brother’s voodoo doll sits in his hoodie pocket, weighing him down. While Sam’s actions were only to Dean’s benefit or boyish pranks, thinking about what he did still makes his skin crawl. His gunshot tingles with a whirlpool of energy. A reminder that he acted somewhat like the very being they want to take down.

“But that was it,” Sam promises, “After breakfast I’ll explain to Dean what I did.” An argument might occur, and he will accept whatever words Dean will throw his way. It won’t be a huge blow up, Sam thinks, since Cas is there. Cas is there and it’s because of Dean. Sam prompted his brother but in no way did he imagine the voicemail Dean would leave. The feelings that he poured into his message. That was all him. Like they’ve done their whole lives, they’ve taken what they were given and fit the rules around them. No matter who tries to break their team apart the three of them come back together stronger.

“Sammy!” Dean calls for him, “You tired? We haven’t even started, man!”

He chuckles, leaving the Bunker. “Says the man who is jogging for the first time today.”

“It can’t be that hard.”

Sam smirks at him, “Just be lucky it’s cold out.”

“Why?”

“Because when the weather’s warm I like to jog barefoot.”

The implicit threat goes over Dean’s head, stranding him in his confusion. “... Why ?”

“Y’know,” Sam claps Dean on the shoulder, “If you decide you want to stick with this after today… I can show you.”

Dean huffs with a familiar grumpy expression, although a twinkle of curiosity glistens in his stare. “Maybe,” he says, “Let’s see how this first jog goes.”

“Your call, man. Your call.” They run, Sam leading ahead of Dean. Not going too fast so he can stay with Dean. Out of breath, bouncing, and at points - between light-hearted jabs shared between brothers - soaring .

#Supernatural #Spn #Spn15 #15x06 #Golden Time #Coda #Supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural coda #spn fanfic #Sam Winchester #Witch!Sam Winchester #Dean Winchester #Castiel #Destiel #deancas #destiel fanfiction #deancas fanfic

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panda-writes-trash · 4 years

Text

-Formal Beginnings-

Synopsis: You’re a pro hero! You’ve been assigned on an undercover mission with a younger (Pre-UA teacher) Eraserhead. You’ve been in battle together before and you’re no stranger to each other. But having to dress in formal attire and infiltrate a lavish mansion full of drug dealing villains, wasn’t something either of you are very used to.

Word Count: 3,478

Aizawa has worked with you on a few jobs here and there when it was called for. But it was never anything like the task the two of you were assigned tonight. He was used to the quick capture and detain types of missions and they were what he was used to- this was way out of his comfort zone.

---

He sat in the waiting room, the two of you were called in at the last minute as something unexpectedly came up. It was briefly mentioned over the phone what you two would be doing but they were waiting on you to show up before giving a full briefing. It shouldn't be long- he lived closer anyway and had been up doing laundry and cleaning up his less than appealing apartment even if it was already past midnight. He could only assume the call had roused you awake. You had a decent grip on a sleep schedule as far as he could tell.

His suspicions were only confirmed when the doors slammed open to you coming hurriedly in with messy hair and pajamas with your hero suit half sticking out of your bag. He couldn't help but snicker seeing the loose pants covered with cartoon kittens- he never got to see you like this and he found it a bit cute. But he was quickly brought out of his thoughts as you came over and spoke.

“Have you gotten the details yet, or are we waiting on me?”

You were a bit out a breath, no doubt from the run here. He stood up and simply shook his head.

“I have an idea, but no. No details yet.”

He watched as you put your leg up on one of the chairs and balanced your bag on it as you rummaged through it pulling out a hair brush and frantically running it through your locks.

“Okay, good good. Just give me a second to get changed into my suit then we can go i-”

But you were cut off, he glanced up to see the police Chief Tsuragamae had joined them.

“Dont bother changing you two will have to be wearing formal wear for this.”

He glanced over to see your confused look as you set the bag down and placed your foot back firmly on the floor- this is the part that was briefly mentioned on the phone to him.

He sighed and shrugged.

“It's an undercover mission. They want us in formal attire.” He looks up at the dog. “And I dont think I'm the best person for this, especially without my capture weapon right?”

The nod of response causes him to huff. The thought of potentially getting into trouble without it didn't sit well with him. He wouldn't be able to protect you if it comes down to it and it gave him a bad taste. But he was sure there was more to the situation if he was specifically put on this job, so he waited for Tsuragamae to continue.

“We have been watching this group for a few months now, they’re not big but they seem to be pretty heftily funded- we’ve been able to detain a few of the thugs but their leader has a sort of teleportation quirk. Which is why we need you.”

He simply nodded in understanding now. Following the chief into his office with you alongside him as he proceeded to give visuals with his further explanation.

“Because of his quirk he has always escaped our men and it's only a few days before they start causing trouble again. They’re a part of the development of quirk drugs. We managed to track down and interrogate one of the people funding this group. The boss is hosting a party tonight for investors and potential future ones. I know you wont have your capture weapon, but that is why you’re plus one will be Miss Y/N here."

He glances over at you, your quirk has definitely been a helpful one in the past. Like his it wasn't very flashy, you had the ability to halt all movements of anyone you touched. Which certainly would help in detaining someone. You gave him a big smile, he was a little less worried now but still this was all a bit much.

“So what kinda dress did you pick out for me, it better not be too bright- god forbid if it’s orange.”

You spoke out causing the Chief to smile and hand you each bag and send you on your way. Having further information to your phones.

The both of you went into the police locker rooms together. He pulled out the contents of his bags and immediately grimaced.

“Oh come on you’ll look great in a tux!”

You were looking at him with a dumb smirk. He was a bit embarrassed, he hated wearing this kind of stuff. He preferred his usual loose fitting comfy clothing. He hesitantly took off the binds that were around his neck and comfortably sat on his shoulders.

“Just something im not used to is all- hope it doesn't restrict movement too much”

Once he saw you were turned away, he did the same. It wasn't uncommon for heros to change in the same room. Ones with the same agencies typically shared one common area, and after all they are professionals- just gotta keep it professional… he wasn't paying much attention as he changed into the monkey suit, buttoning the pants up and beginning to wrap the belt around his waist when you had gasped completely catching him off guard he almost spun around to look- but had just caught himself.

“Whats wrong- Are you decent?”

You were silent for a bit which had him a bit concerned but when you finally spoke he almost laughed.

“I really like this dress. And yes I am, I just need a little help with the zipper on the back.”

He rolled his eyes but at the confirmation he turned around- and wow. He did have to take a moment watching and looking you over as you admired yourself in the mirror. It was a tight fitting black sequin dress. It dragged a bit behind you but had a slit that had one of your legs sticking out with some matching black heels.

“You gonna stop ogling or what, we got a party to get to Eraser.”

He was snapped out of his thoughts and had a bit of a blush now but came over close behind you and pinched the top of the dress together and smoothly zipped it up.

“Sorry, hard to believe the same girl in baggy pajamas and ridiculous bedhead is the same one im looking at now- thought someone took my partner.”

You gave him a bit of a glare and he smiled- but as you turned around to face him and the mess he left his tie in you shook your head, grabbing the edges of his coat to pull him forward. And undoing the tie to fix it.

“At least your partner can properly tie, and we need to fix your hair too. You’re gonna look like a hoodlum going in with that rats nest- no drug investor is gonna look like that”

He was at a bit of a loss for words as you pulled him and started to fix what he had screwed up, though he didn't think it was that bad. But oh man, you were way too close for comfort, you were practically pressed up against him- and in that dress he could see right down-

He was startled when you pushed him down and he fell back onto the bench between the lockers and you started running your brush through his hair- this was too much. Even through the mess he was in he couldn't let this continue with how he was getting a few butterflies in his stomach so he waved you off.

“Calm down, I can fix it myself… Thank you though”

He had slicked most of it back and tied the top half up as well. Lazily, but still an improvement from before. He looked to you for your approval. Your thumbs up in response brought a slight smile to him.

You two went out the door into the unmarked police car, he opened the door for you before getting in on the other side. The both of you looked over the further details that were sent to your phones. Up until you pulled up to the gate with a large mansion in the back, he got out with you in tow.

“Shota, When I think of villain bases, I think of spooky underground cellar types- not, well, this”

“On a first name basis now?”

He watched you a bit confused, you two were a bit close but he doesnt think you’ve ever called him by his first name before.

“What am I supposed to be calling you Eraserhead around a whole bunch of villains?”

You had a point and gained a chuckle out of him nodding. He was surprisingly a lot less stressed about the whole thing compared to earlier. He's sure that was gonna change at some point. But for now it almost felt like he was taking you on some sort of fancy date. He wouldn't mind something like that, he'd even be willing to get dressed up like this.

You had wrapped your arm around his and walked in unison to the guard standing before the door. Aizawa had given the man the name of the man the police detained and it seems there was no issue as his name was checked off the list, and they were quickly checked to make sure they weren't harboring any weapons before walking in.

He looked down at you as you both looked around and took the place in, “Well Shota, I certainly wasn't expecting it to be so nice here.”

“It's probably how they get funding, put on a pleasing image and you get more backing. They think they know what the group’s doing and find it to be a safe investment.”

He glanced down beside him to find you looking up at him- he quickly looked away and continued.

“Well, lets just blend in till we find our guy- then we can make a plan and try to get him secluded… so-” he rubs the back of his neck, “care to dance?”

You were clearly a bit taken aback by his words where he was almost going to take it back and act as he was joking.

“I didn't think you could even dance, I would love to.”

He sighed a bit in relief and took your hand as he kept his voice low, “not well, but I know enough of the basics.”

So he did, he took your hand and led you out to where other couples were dancing. And held you close while staying in rhythm to the music, started swaying. It was a good place to be after all, they were in the center of the large ballroom and were able to look around to see the target.

He was actively looking around up until you decided to rest your head against his chest as you danced. He wanted to scold you for being unprofessional, but he couldn't deny the fact that he liked the feeling too much to tell you to stop. And with the spinning pattern everyone was dancing in he was able to get a clear view of all the room anyway, no reason to ruin the good time yet. Instead he kept his hand on the small of your back and kept you close.

He did struggle to keep focus, he found himself glancing down at your frame against his more than he cares to admit. But always snapped back to it, you had a job to do after all. He barely was able to spot the man standing on one of the balconies watching the crowd, the target.

“Y/N.”

…

“Hey, Y/N!” He hissed and it jossled you a bit.

You were clearly zoned out, and having been enjoying yourself maybe a bit too much. Though who could blame you.

“The targets on one the top balcony, back by the east wing. He seems to have 3 body guards- with one going out and returning every few minutes. We should go while he's alone with them- It’ll make this a lot harder when he decides to join the party and he's surrounded by dozens of people”

Aizawa made his way with you off the main floor, before simply giving you a nudge

“Are you alright?”

You gave a nod in response.

“Yeah, sorry, it's just been a while since I've ever danced with someone proper like that. I wont zone out again, don't worry.”

He smiled, having made up his mind on his thought from earlier.

“Well, I don't think I’d mind taking you out on a fancy date like this. Ya’ know, when our lives aren't on the line.”

Your head practically snapped up to look at him. And once again immediately regretted the forwardness- it was a bit out of line. You were partners, but not in that sense

“I-”

But before he could even start apologizing you got this giddy grin that made his heart skip a beat.

“Are you serious?”

“Well- I mean, yeah.”

He watched as you hummed. “I think that sounds very nice, a fancy night out on the town and some relaxation would be good for you. You're starting to become more of a hermit everytime I see you.”

He rolled his eyes. It wouldn't be for him, if he had to choose a type of date it would be lounging at home watching a movie and then a nap. But the thought of getting to see you in a dress like this again did get him excited.

He could talk about it more and defend his hermit status later, as the two of you were already at the top of the stairs and he motioned for you to be quiet. You both made your way down the hallway up until you stopped and hissed- he was worried something was wrong until he saw you leaning against the wall and taking off the heels.

“The damn clacking-”

He chuckled and nodded in understanding before spotting one of the guards standing outside the door. If only he had his capture weapon, it would've made easy work immobilizing all of the guards. He tried to think up a plan for a moment- but was drawn out of it by a pair of heels being placed in his hands for him to hold onto as you had stepped out into view. It made his anxiety shoot up for a moment- but hopefully you had a plan since you had revealed yourself.

The guard spoke first. “Hey lady, you're not supposed to be up here.”

Shota sat where he was still hidden but watching, the guard clearly didn't see you as a threat yet which was at the very least good. But what were you planning that you couldnt tell him first?

He watched as you- stumbled?

“H-Huh- what me? I'm just- trying to find the bathroom- couldn't find one anywhere I swear-”

You gave a hiccup, oh my god were you pretending to be drunk? It wasn't a bad act but he was still confused. He watched as the guard looked around a moment not seeing anyone did he smile at Y/N.

“Ah Miss you’ve gone all the wrong ways- why don't ya’ let me take ya’ don't worry yer’ in safe hands.”

Shota grimaced and felt a bit sick, how disgusting and low men could get. So far to try something even while on the job. And just thinking about a man taking advantage of you made his blood boil.

But as he put an arm around Y/N the conditions were met for her to activate her quirk and he finally saw what she was going for as the guy went stiff as a board as every muscle in his body locked up, jaw and tongue included so he couldn't speak.

You slipped out from under his arm and made your way back to him with a pleasant smile on your face.

“I think my acting is pretty up there ain't it.”

He wasn’t very amused by the whole thing, “you could've at least told me you know, could've done something better than playing a drunk victim.”

“Got the job done didn't it. Only two guards and the target to go right?”

He sighs, you had a point. It just didn't sit well with him and gave him a sour taste. He gave a nod as he looked at the door, the three should be just on the other side.

“Alright I got an idea.”

---

He explained to you quietly and swiftly. That this had to be an instant take down. Otherwise they risked the chance of alerting the others in the building, and that would make things a mess and the target would probably instantly escape. He had to use his quirk on the boss instantly otherwise it was game over. The entrance to the balcony was a double door opening outwards, each of you would hide on each side. Make a noise and as they came out to investigate, you each would pop out. He would use his quirk on the boss on the balcony and deal with his guard the old fashioned way. You would use your quirk to stun the guard and bolt and do the same on the target before they had a chance to call for help. It was simple enough and straight to the point but he thought it was the best option given your circumstances. When you had eagerly nodded in agreement you both took your places to the side of the large oak doors.

He gave a final nod to you and you returned it. He picked up the pair of heels he’d been holding and wasted not a moment more to toss them in front of the door, the hard plastic making a loud enough clap against the tile floor that it was only a few seconds before the door hesitantly opened and the two guards peered out guns drawn. It was time to go.

He sprung out along with you. A little bit further to get a view of the boss in the back, his hair going high as he made sure this guy wasn't going anywhere. But there was also the gun in his face he had to deal with- good thing you caught them by surprise, they weren't ready to pull the trigger. He bobbed to the side and with a swift movement popped the bottom of the guys jaw with his elbow. He dropped his gun and before he even hit the floor you were already on the target and had locked up both of the men.

He gave a sigh of relief, but quickly helped you move the men off the balcony before you had any peeping eyes overseeing the catastrophe.

“It's nice seeing you get physical- most times I see you its just all about manipulating that scarf of yours”

“What, didn't think I’ve had combat training?”

He raised a brow looking you over, your quirk really was amazing and it came in handy on many occasions. Now especially since he can't deny someone's quirk for more than a few minutes at most. Yours lasted hours.

He pulled out his phone, “Im gonna call the chief, we got the guy they wanted. The force can come in and wrap the rest of this up.”

You simply hummed in agreement as you picked back up your heels slipping them back on, your feet were getting cold simply standing on the polished tile.

---

Before you knew it Tsuragamae had waves of armed police flood the building. And since the security in this place made such a point of disarming the guests, there wasn't much of a struggle. And the target was quickly carried off into custody.

“I’d say that was a mission success!”

He looked over at you as you both sat on an outside bench. His overcoat wrapped around your shoulders, it and your hair swaying gently with the breeze as you swirled and sipped off a champagne glass you had grabbed amongst the chaos on the way out.

You both sat in silence watching as police came in and out of the building with bundles of the party guests, sticking around just in case there was a need for your assistance.

But since you both were simply waiting, he smiled as he thought he’d bring up a bit of conversation. Shifting his weight and leaning over some.

…

“So how about that date?”

#Aizawa #aizawa x reader #eraserhead #my hero x reader #my hero academia #eraserhead x reader #shota aizawa

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echoes-of-the-clockwork · 5 years

Text

Deacon St. John || Phantom in the Night [1/5]

A/n: This'll be a short series. There are spoilers, so I'll put a spoiler warning before you read.

⚠️SPOILERS AHEAD⚠️

I hope you all enjoy! Love you all!!! ••••••••••••••••••••

***HAS NOT BEEN PROOFREAD! PLEASE NOTIFY ME OF ANY ERRORS!!!***

***** Prompt: A mysterious woman with a mask has been traveling around the regions taking out whatever evil she comes across. When Deacon meets the woman behind the mask, his entire world changes. *****

~3rd Person POV~

The moment Deacon set foot in Copeland's Camp, he saw the entire encampment gathered in between the kitchen and the bounty stall. Mark stood in the middle as he addressed his fellow men and women. "I understand your concern, but we've no need to worry. Phantom means us no harm."

"What if she does target our camp?" A woman asked nervously.

"I assure you she will not. Now get back to work!" Mark shouted. Everyone headed back to their posts, a suffocating air lingering throughout the camp.

Deacon was perplexed as to why the entire camp was acting strange. He wake sober to many, greeting the mechanic. "Hey, Manny. What's going on here?"

"You haven't heard?" Manny inquired.

"Why the hell do you think I'm asking?" the drifter scoffed.

"Recently, there's been this girl spotted out in the shit. She wears this creepy mask and black clothing. No one knows who she is under the mask. People around the camp are afraid she'll attack us next," Manny explained.

"I didn't come here to listen to the camp's problems. You got anything new for me?" Deacon asked.

"Sorry, Deek. Nothing today."

"Alright, thanks."

Manny watched as the drifter mounted his bike. "You're leaving so soon?"

"Like hell I'm sticking around." Deacon started his bike and took off.

<———————————<<<<<<<<<<<<<

As Deacon was riding through Belknap after accepting a job from Tucker, he was ambushed by marauders. A bullet pierced his right shoulder, knocking him off his bike. The motorcycle scraped against the asphalt as Deacon landed on his back with a painful grunt. "Fucking marauders..."

Four marauders charged at him, their weapons raised. The sniper tried to shoot him again, but the man in the tree suddenly was shot and screamed as he plummeted towards the road.

Deacon grabbed the bat hanging on his bat, ready to defend himself. Before he could even swing it, all the marauders were killed. The gunshots rang through the air, but the drifter was unable to locate his savior.

Suddenly, a figure climbed down a tree by the highway and landed a few feet away from Deacon. By the stature, he knew it was a woman. She turned around, revealing the mask concealing her face.

The sniper in her hands alerted the drifter, but she lowered and slung it across her back. Deacon was still on high alert as she walked towards him. Standing directly in front of him, she pulled down the hood and took the mask off her face. (H/c) hair tumbled out of the hood as she pulled at the strands to straighten them out. "I can help with your shoulder if you'll let me."

"Uh..." Deacon wasn't sure what to think at her offer. He was still puzzled at her sudden appearance and how she saved him. Now, he wasn't sure what to think of her offer, but he decided to accept her help. "Okay."

"Follow me." The woman guided him to a nearby bush where she fetched a backpack. She rummaged through it and pulled out what she needed. "I know we just met and all, but I'm gonna need you to remove your shirt."

Deacon glanced at the woman with a stoic expression. "You're serious?"

"No, I'm gonna patch you up magically through your shirt," she sighed. "Yes, I'm serious. It's my fault you were shot, anyway."

"How is it your fault?" The drifter questioned as he removed his cut, jacket, and shirt to allow the woman access to the bullet hole in his shoulder.

"I watched the bastards set up the ambush. I should've taken them out the moment I saw them." The woman began examining the wound before cleaning it thoroughly. "Good. The bullet passed straight through. Name's (Y/n), by the way."

"Deacon," the man gave her his name. "Phantom, huh? What are you—some masked vigilante? Never thought I see one of those in the middle of the apocalypse," Deacon commented after he let out a faint grunt of pain.

"Is that what people are calling me? And no, I'm not a masked vigilante. I go around taking out Freaks, Marauders, and Rippers. A few Squatters here and there, but mostly Swarmers and Newts."

"Why the mask?"

"Easiest way to take down a bunch assholes is to infiltrate their own ranks. The mask is so they don't recognize me and report who truly is behind the mask to other marauders. Even with most of the world's population being Freaks, rumors spread like wildfire out here in the shit." (Y/n) bandaged up his shoulder before placing the supplies back into her backpack. "There. It should heal in a week or two since it didn't hit anything major."

"Yeah, uh, thanks." Deacon put his clothes back on while (Y/n) slung her backpack over her shoulder.

She nodded and smiled. "You're welcome." Swiveling on her heels, she began making her way down the highway.

Something inside Deacon nagged him to tell her to stay. He cleared his throat and called out to the woman. "Need a ride somewhere?"

"Actually," (Y/n) spun back around to face him. "I do. You know where Black Crater is?"

Deacon nodded. "Yeah." He went over to his bike and hauled it off its side. "I'm heading there, too."

"Oh," she smirked. "You after the Rippers camped out there, too?"

"Guessing that's why you need a ride there," Deacon said. "And yeah. Those bastards keep ambushing supply runs for the Hot Springs."

"And Tucker asked you to do the dirty work for her," (Y/n) stated matter-of-factly. "Not surprised. Hope you're willing to have a partner on this endeavor."

"For once, yeah. Hop on."

(Y/n) secures her backpack against her back and mounted the bike. She placed her arms around Deacon's waist with a smile. "Let's go kill some Rippers."

<————————————<<<<<<<<<<<<

Eight months later, Deacon and (Y/n) found themselves at the Lost Lake Camp. They were forced to bring Boozer to the encampment due to blood poisoning from where a few Rippers had torched his arm. He was currently unconscious in the infirmary while Deacon had been dragged off by Skizzo.

(Y/n) sat at a picnic table, fiddling with a single bullet. She had used nest residue to create a single berserker bullet and was dying to test it out on anyone. While her gaze was focused on the bullet, she didn't notice Rikki sit down across from her. "It's (Y/n), right?"

"And you're Rikki. Nice to finally put a face to the name," the woman responded.

"You've traveled through Belknap and Cascade. Heard any interesting stories about this so called "Phantom?" I heard she wears this weird mask and goes around killing people."

"I've heard about her a few times during my trips. Not sure about the mask, but I heard she's been focusing on hordes recently."

Suddenly, the two women heard someone clear their throat and they turned their heads. At the end of the table stood Deacon, who was glancing between (Y/n) and Rikki. "Sorry, Rikki, but I need her right now."

"Y'know, Deek, I always took you as the loner type. I never expected to see another woman by your side with... you know..." Rikki's voice trailed off.

"Jesus, Rikki," Deacon exhaled. "We're not doing this shit again."

"I know, I know. I was just... surprised, is all."

The drifter grabbed (Y/n)'s upper arm and tugged her out of her seat and away from the picnic table. The woman already knew about Sarah and how Deacon had finally managed to get over her death a couple of months after their first meeting on the highway with her help.

The drifter released (Y/n) as they stood beside his bike. "Hop on. We're going to pay the Rippers a visit."

"What did Skizzo say to you?" The woman asked as she mounted the bike behind him.

"A plane carrying supplies for the Red Cross crashed in Iron Butte. If Boozer's wants a chance to survive, we have to get that medical supplies."

"We're heading straight into Ripper territory. Are you sure you want to risk the peace treaty Iron Mike has with Carlos?"

"That fucking treaty is already falling to pieces. We're getting that supplies one way or another." Deacon revved the engine and took off out the gate.

It was a thirty minute ride to their destination, which was a bridge connecting Lost Lake and Iron Butte. (Y/n) glanced up at the watchtower built beside the bridge. I don't see anyone on duty." Deacon contacted Skizzo, learning the post was unmanned on purpose. With no one on watch, it made it easy to infiltrate Ripper territory.

"Shit..." (Y/n) groaned as she spotted a car blocking their path. They quickly hopped off the motorcycle as Rippers shot at them. Taking cover behind a truck, the duo gladly responded with their own frenzy of bullets.

"Join us and we will—!"

(Y/n) emerged from their cover, shooting the woman in the head before she could finish her sentence. "I'd rather die than join a cult. I also kinda like having hair."

Deacon killed the last Ripper and they focused their attention on the car wedged in the opening between the makeshift walls. "Help me with this."

The woman placed her hands on the grill of the car beside Deacon's and they pushed the car to make room for the motorcycle. Once the vehicle was no longer an obstacle, the two returned to the bike and took off deeper into Ripper territory.

"Snipers!" (Y/n) shouted as she saw two Rippers and scanning the area with their weapons. Even though they had been spotted, the enemies' aiming was terrible and off the mark every time. Not wasting any more time, they drove past the assailants and to the crashed plane.

Dismounting the motorcycle, Deacon and (Y/n) climbed up a ledge and found the plane. From the wreckage, a Swarmer was tossed as if it were light as a feather. A thunderous roar caused both of them to hide behind a boulder.

"Great..." (Y/n) huffed under her breath.

Deacon watched in horror as a large creature emerged from the crashed plane and tore the Swarmer limb to limb. "The hell is that thing?"

"Never seen a Breaker before?" She whispered.

"Wouldn't be asking if I did," the drifter retorts, eyes plastered to the large Freaker as it stomped around the crash sight.

"Set the brute ablaze and let loose whatever ammo you have left. He'll be tough, but we can take him."

(Y/n) went to sneak up behind the brute, but Deacon grabbed her arm and forced her to remain behind the boulder beside him. "You're staying here."

"You're talking to a girl who's taken down plenty of these things by herself and who hunts down hordes in her spare time. I can just add another Breaker to the list of things I've killed. It's more of a tally than a list at this point."

"No," Deacon hissed.

"At least let me get the supplies while you fight the big guy," she whispered back, a hint of anger in her tone.

Deacon glanced between the Breaker and the plane before agreeing to her suggestion. "Alright. I'll distract it while you get the supplies."

"Just remember what I said, Deek. Fire makes it vulnerable." With those final words, (Y/n) broke off and headed around the other side of the boulder. She waited for the drifter to grab the Breaker's attention, which he did with a molotov. She sprinted to the plane in search of the medical cache and couldn't help but hear Deacon struggling against the large Freaker.

Once (Y/n) locates the supplies, she was disappointed to only find one remaining. Although, she was grateful there would be enough supplies to heal Boozer. She had only met the man a month after knowing Deacon. Now, it had been seven months since then and the two were practically friends. Of course, she and Deacon have spent almost every day the past eight months together taking jobs from Tucker and Copeland after learning how well they work together when they took down the Ripper ambush camp in Black Crater together.

A loud, painful groan tore (Y/n) from her thoughts. She ran out of what was once the cabin of the plane and saw the Breaker stomping towards a cornered Deacon. Grabbing the knife attached to her belt, she held the hilt tightly as she charged towards the shirtless brute. She leapt on its back, startling the large monster. Raising the blade, she plunged it into the side of its skull as it tried to grab her with its large hands. A simple blade to the brain was all that was needed to kill the Breaker.

(Y/n) unlatched her body off the Freak's back before its heavy body collapsed to the ground with a loud 'thud.' She wipes the blood off her knife before sheathing it.

Deacon got to his feet, running a hand across his neck as he coughed. "How the hell did that work?"

"Breakers have relatively tough skin and the muscle underneath makes it difficult even for bullets to pierce. Even with headshots, they're still not easy easy to kill. With fire, the skin burns and becomes brittle. In all honesty, the victory goes to you."

"Nice to know," Deacon sighs. "You find the medical supplies?"

"There's only one cache left, but it'll be enough," (Y/n) responds.

"Grab it and let's get the hell outta here."

Once the medical supplies was strapped to the back of the bike tightly, (Y/n) hopped on and they headed back to Lost Lake. When they crossed the bridge, they had an encounter with Skizzo and Rikki soon arrived on the scene. Surprisingly, she didn't scold either one of them for entering Ripper territory to retrieve medical supplies.

On the ride back, Rikki has taken them on a detour to the sawmill not far from the encampment. On top of a roof, they overlooked a horde wandering around the old sawmill. (Y/n)'s eyes narrowed as this horde was much larger than the ones she has faced before. She hadn't realized Rikki had left until Deacon called out to her. "Don't even think about it."

(Y/n) turned her head, showing the smirk on her face. "You know me so well."

"Yeah, well, Boozer and I are the only ones who know you're really this "Phantom" everybody's scared shitless of who goes around taking out hordes without a care in the world."

"Hey, I've taken out plenty of ambush camps, too. Not once have I attacked an encampment."

"You're unpredictable to them. That's why they're scared," Deacon said.

"Then I better give them a reason to trust me. And to do that, I'm starting with the sawmill."

"Hell no. You're not taking out a giant fucking horde by yourself."

"You're not gonna stop me, Deek. You should know that by now. Anyway, you should head back to Lost Lake. I'll be there shortly."

The drifter was confused as to what she was planning. "How do you plan on getting back?"

"Walking. It's not far from here. I can manage."

Deacon shook his head in disbelief, but he knew he couldn't force her along. "Fine. Radio me if anything happens."

(Y/n) offered him a gentle smile. "I will."

Deacon hopped off the roof and headed back to the camp.

The woman leapt down from the roof and grabbed her backpack. She pulled out her mask and change of black clothes she usually wore to accompany it. Changing her attire, she shoved her original outfit into the bag and departed to Lost Lake Camp.

The moment the guards saw (Y/n), they shouted for Iron Mike. The men and women kept their weapons aimed at the woman as she waited patiently for the gates to be opened. She could hear people in the camp scurrying around and could see a few gathering in front of the gate through the chain link fence.

The gate finally opened and Iron Mike cautiously stepped outside the camp with a stern expression. He stopped a few feet away from (Y/n), staring through the dark eyeholes in the creepy mask. "What brings a woman like you to Lost Lake?"

"Simple." The mask muffled her voice slightly, but it was enough to disguise it so no one could recognize who was under the mask. "To help."

"With what, stranger?" Mike responded cautiously.

"Hordes, ambush camps, infestations... you name it, I'll do it."

Rikki was intrigued by her offer and stepped outside of the camp to stand beside Iron Mike. "You wanna help? Start with that damn horde at the sawmill."

"Let her in," Iron Mike declares, shocking everyone in the camp besides Deacon and Boozer.

"You really think we can trust her?" One of the guards expressed his doubt.

The leader of the encampment spun around and faced the man. "If she was a danger to us, she wouldn't be making the roads safer to travel." He and Rikki walked back into the camp with the masked woman close behind. They sealed the gate and everyone stared at (Y/n) as she passed them.

Deacon suddenly appeared, blocking her path and glaring daggers at her. "Can I talk to you in private?"

"I know you're mad, but—hey!" She whisper-yelled when the drifter grabbed her arm and dragged her to the cabin he and Boozer were assigned.

Inside, Deacon slammed the door shut and pushed her against the wall by grabbing her upper arms. "What the hell are you thinking?"

"Can't I help the camp out?" She retorts vehemently.

"You can help without that fucking mask."

"I'm trying to build a good reputation so I don't end up getting shot in the shit by someone from one of these encampments."

Deacon squeezed her arms tighter, causing her to wince. "What happens when people start wondering where (Y/n) goes when Phantom's around, huh?"

"Cover for me. Tell them I went on a supply run or to check in with another camp," (Y/n) replied.

"You are just—never mind." Deacon released the woman, allowing her to adjust her mask. "If you're taking on the horde at the sawmill, you're not doing it alone."

"Sorry, Deek, but I need to do this alone. I better get going before it becomes night." (Y/n) saw the concern written all over the drifter's face and sighed. "I'll be fine. If anything happens, I'll radio you."

Deacon nodded. "Just come back in one piece, alright?"

(Y/n) smiled gently. "I promise."

#days gone #days gone x reader #deacon st john x reader #deacon x reader #female reader

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secrecykept · 5 years

Text

( ☯ ⋮ DRABBLE: Chesh. )

Main verse. 1800+ words of absolutely nothing. but hey, its his house and he talks to himself and his plants. bless him.

He stepped inside his house and closed the door behind himself with a soft click. A sigh escaped through a content smile and his shoulders dropped in relief.

Home Sweet Home.

In a casual search, his eyes swept around, ensuring that nothing had changed during his long week away. Yes, everything was right where he left it, but…his brother’s scent was a vague impression, which meant some of the chocolate hidden in the high kitchen cupboard was most likely gone. Typical.

Chesh chuckled to himself and shook his head, beginning to head further into the house. The short entryway flowed into the large, open plan style that he favoured.

Though he lived alone and didn’t technically ‘need’ such a big house, the animal side of him demanded the freedom of it and revelled in the provided space.

His lounge was to the left, set within a slightly lower level, a square frame. Having different layers and levels within the house kept the leopard appeased. All sorts of things had been incorporated into the house with that, and the other preferences of the feline, in mind.

Everything was as natural and organic as it could be, pleasing and gentle on the senses. The design of the house was environmentally friendly both because of Chesh’s own beliefs and because the therianthrope blood was comforted by it. The house was such a contrast to the heavy concrete and cold metal of the city he’d be trapped in recently.

Working overtime on a large, special order with his boss all week had been tough on his body in more ways than one. Every part of him, from skin to soul, had been getting more uncomfortable with every day and night he had been stuck there, instincts urging him to find the earth and its abundant life again, though of course he appreciated the spare room Mr Delaney let him stay in.

With only enough space for a large bed and a bedside table, the room had been a cage. The old décor, while faded and not too ugly, was still on the overwhelming side to his senses.

The complete opposite to the area he stood in now.

His house mimicked the feel of nature through its use of materials and the expansive windows which seemed to invite the outside in. The ‘trees’ supporting the ceiling, and the exposed beams high above, further added to the illusion of being surrounded by nature.

He took a deep breath in and then out, feeling the leopard relaxing along with him.

A yawn crept up on him and pulled on his muscles and jaw like a puppeteer tugging on strings, making him stretch out in a grand display. His shoulders and arms groaned at him, and he groaned right back and sighed as he relaxed himself down again.

Maybe an early night was in order.

Or perhaps simply an easy night of watching TV until he fell asleep. The quiet here was nice, but after such a long time of having someone else, and of having noise, around him during all hours…it was too quiet.

With that decided, he moved across large room, hopping down the small steps into the lounge area.

Along with the couch, armchairs, and coffee table, there was a less typical element; a large mattress inlaid within the space between the table and the wall which the TV was secured to. The mattress, neatly covered in a dark green bedsheet, was level to the hardwood floor and could easily be mistaken for a rug. Truth be told, he spent more time on that mattress than on the couch or even his actual bed.

He eyed it now and stole a couple of cushions from the couch to throw on it. The remote resting on the table became the next item to be scooped up. He tossed it lightly onto the new nest he was creating and then glanced over to the shelves full of DVDs.

“What should we watch, hmm?”

He heard a huff in the back of his mind, and he rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t talking to you, kittycat. I was talking to me.”

Ignoring his other side, Chesh idly rubbed his jaw and then slipped his hand to his neck and the join of his shoulder. Applying a little pressure caused a wince, and he became aware of the scents that clung to him. Sawdust and varnish, wood and hard work.

He sighed.

“Better have a shower first before getting too comfy…”

After a roll of his shoulders, he padded off to the right, jumping up the step and then stopping. His gaze flicked between the wide doorway to the kitchen, and the stairs at the far side that led up to the open, upper level.

“Food first or second?”

Dinner with his boss a few hours earlier seemed like forever ago now, but since his stomach didn’t growl or rumble, he gave it a pat.

“Later then. ‘Suppose it’s grocery time tomorrow anyway.”

He nodded to himself and continued on his way, making quick work of the stairs even while pulling his shirt off over his head. In a display of altogether too much practice, he balled up the shirt and tossed it into the basket across the room.

“Score!”

Pleased despite having no audience, he grinned. The expression eased off slowly after another yawn cracked through him. He avoided looking at his comfortable, ready-to-jump-on bed and set about removing the rest of his clothes. Living alone did have its benefits, there was no one to see him struggle with his shoes and pants, hobbling around as he yet again yawned.

“Damn I must be getting old…”

The chuffing laugh of the leopard in his mind brought him a pout. “Oh, shut it, I don’t need that from you. You’re as old as I am, y’know.”

It was with a great deal of sulking that Chesh finished stripping off and picked up his discarded clothes, adding them to the basket to join his shirt. Once the task was done, he perked up at the thought of the shower that awaited him.

The large, floor to ceiling windows nearby reflected his naked form, but the backdrop of dense forest was faintly visible still. Even if the glass had allowed him to be seen from the other side of it, he was not the type to mind. If someone out there was willing to climb up a tree to get a peek at him, they probably deserved it.

He sighed and turned away, heading to the generous en-suite. As always, he didn’t bother to close the door behind himself when he entered. The dark tile was cool beneath his feet as he crossed it, his destination the glass walls of the shower, though he did give a long look to the spa bath cradled within the floor.

“Not tonight,” he said to it in apology, “I’ll fall asleep and die if I do.”

He reached into the shower and turned the handle, prompting a high-pressure rush of water to rain down from the head set into the ceiling like a waterfall. Despite the water not being warm quite yet, he stepped under the spray anyway and let out a soft moan of approval.

“Oh yeah, that’s good…”

The water pelting his shoulders began to massage away some of the lingering aches. He sighed and closed his eyes, relaxing with a purr.

So good…

…….

He jolted back into wakefulness as his body swayed forward, one hand shooting out to brace against the glass wall. His hand slipped, but he kept on his feet with wide eyes and a colourful curse.

Time to get out already, this thing was dangerous.

After washing himself quickly, soapy bubbles swirling down the drain, he forced himself to shut off the water and step out into comparative coolness.

A towel was handy on the nearby rack, he snagged it and only bothered to rub it over his hair a few times before wrapping it around his waist. Drying off was far too much effort at this point.

He left wet footprints out of the bathroom and across the loft, if he slipped on them later then it was his own fault.

“Good thing I-“ Yawn. “-don’t live with anyone else.”

He shook his head to try force a little more awareness into his brain, which wasn’t the best thing to do while he was descending the steps. He nearly tumbled down them.

He was more awake now, needless to say.

And it was then that he looked across at the back of the room and spotted his little plants.

“Oh! My babies!”

He scampered so quickly over to them that his towel loosened and fell (almost tripping him up, but he was heedless).

“Please don’t die on me, okay? I know I totally forgot to feed you or get someone to look after you, but I’m here and it was only like a week, okay?”

The plants were nestled in rounded, forest green pots along the top of a shelf. Despite there being four pots, only two were filled. He’d only needed two, but there had been a deal to get three, and then he hadn’t wanted to leave the last one behind or for his third one to be without a partner.

He gently touched the soil of one plant and sighed. “Not too bad. Good thing you’re not high maintenance huh?”

Succulents and cacti made for good companions to one as busy and forgetful as he could be.

“Let me get you a drink now, okay, Ouchie? Pointy? I’ll be right back. Be good now.”

He spun around and made a beeline for the kitchen, bending to sweep up the fallen towel on the way. He slung the material over one of his shoulders and carried on with the task of getting water for his dear plants.

A cheerful but tuneless hum from him eased some of the silence within the house as he worked on caring for Pointy and Ouchie.

“There, better now, right?” he asked them once finished, “You’re looking happier already.”

He gave a satisfied nod and directed himself back across the lounge, jumping with both feet down the step this time, just for something different.

“Night you two,” he called back to them, “Don’t snore, okay? I need some beauty sleep; I think my hotness levels have dropped down to a mere 120%. Totally unacceptable.”

He yawned and narrowly missed walking into the edge of the coffee table on his way around to the mattress. He let his knees buckle and set him down on the welcoming softness. It took only a moment of fussing with the cushions before he was comfortable, and then he felt around for the remote and switched the TV onto the most boring channel he could find.

The droning voices closed his eyes and he was deep asleep within the minute.

#long post #( DRABBLE | Chesh. )#( V. Chesh.01 | Main. )#( IN CHARACTER | Chesh. )#i really had no idea where this was going #and it didnt really go anywhere BUT THATS OKAY #it is by no means riveting stuff #it was......really nice and peaceful just to write #to write for no real reason #just kinda...being with him. if that makes sense #relaxing yes #anyway dkfjndfknd

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thelastspeecher · 6 years

Text

I could’ve sworn I posted the first part of this whole ficlet, but I went through my Phoenix Enchantment AU tag and couldn’t find it, so I added some more to it and decided to finally post it. What is it? It’s the fallout of this ficlet, in which Stan and Angie get stuck at a zoo for months on end, including mating season. I couldn’t come up with a title for this, but a decent one would be “Angie’s Pissed”, because damn, Angie is pissed. Anyways, enjoy.

“Have fun with yer friends,” Fiddleford called after Tate. Tate nodded. “Call when ya want to get picked up.”

“Pa, chill, I know!” Tate groaned. He got into his friend’s car. Fiddleford sighed and closed the front door. After a moment, he raised his voice again.

“Okay, he’s gone!” There was immediately a series of loud thuds from the attic, along with muffled voices. Fiddleford looked at Ford. “Are ya ready fer a scoldin’?” Ford rubbed the top of his right ear, which was heavily bandaged.

“I’ve already gotten one.”

“No, ya haven’t,” Fiddleford said firmly. Footsteps thundered down the stairs. Stan stormed over to Ford.

“What the fuck was that about, huh?” Stan rumbled. “You left us in that zoo for months, and it wasn’t a life-or-death situation?”

“It was-” Ford started. Stan grabbed Ford’s shoulders.

“Stanford, do you have any clue how terrifying it was to see Emmett’s egg? Small and gray and- and obviously not right! And then he hatched, and got goddamn pneumonia before he was a week old!”

“Stanley-”

“We were on display during mating season, Poindexter. We got poked and prodded by people who thought we were dumb birds, and Emmett- Emmett didn’t grow right.” Stan’s voice lowered. “Angie was so fuckin’ stressed, I was so fuckin’ stressed, it’s a miracle we’re not completely bald. Hell, it’s a miracle our son is even alive.” Angie, who had arrived at some point during Stan’s rant and was holding their infant son, walked over to Stan.

“Stanley,” she said softly, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. Stan sighed and let go of Ford. Angie handed Emmett to Stan. Stan smiled weakly at his son. Abruptly, Angie slapped Ford across the face as hard as she could. “You fuckin’ bastard,” Angie snarled. Stan’s jaw dropped. “I can handle embarrassment, bein’ examined by my former coworkers, all that nonsense. But ya put my child’s life in danger. I’ve been blamin’ myself ever since Emmett’s egg got laid, since it was my stress what made him so weak and small. But yer the one what didn’t let the stress end. Yer the one what left us in that zoo.”

“Angie-” Ford started.

“You didn’t call anyone! You called the zoo, asked fer us to stay longer, that was it! Ya didn’t even know we had a new chick until ya came to pick us up! It’s shameful. Yer a father. Show some fuckin’ responsibility,” Angie spat. Ford stared at her. “I know you blame yourself fer us bein’ phoenixes. I ain’t blind; I can see it in how ya try yer hardest to keep us happy. Here’s the thing. Ya have no blame in that. Stop feelin’ guilty over it. Instead, show some remorse and forethought into things ya do have control over!” Angie grabbed Ford’s shirt and stood on her tiptoes to peer into his face. “The zoo was one of those things. We agreed to bein’ on display fer a few weeks. We explicitly told ya that we didn’t want to be there durin’ matin’ season. You ignored that,” she growled. “Now you get to live with the fact that yer nephew is stunted and weak. Because of yer actions.” She let go of Ford’s shirt. Ford took a step back. Angie spun around. “Fiddleford, yer not blameless, neither. How Stanford convinced ya, I don’t know. But you didn’t do anything to mitigate his actions. Ya may not have as much blame, but a good chunk of it is yours.”

“That’s- Angie, don’t go overboard,” Stan said weakly.

“Ever since I laid Emmett’s egg, I’ve been blamin’ myself,” Angie snapped. “It’s high time the folks at fault got blamed fer it.” She stormed away. The front door opened and slammed shut. Stan looked at Fiddleford and Ford, who were visibly shaken. He held up his son.

“So, uh, yeah, this is Emmett,” Stan said. “He, uh, it turns out he’s a polydactyl like Molly and Daisy.”

“That’s nice,” Ford mumbled. He grabbed blindly for a chair and collapsed into it. “Was it actually that bad?”

“Yeah, it was,” Stan said in a low voice. “Angie worked herself up so much the zoo had to close the exhibit for a while. If she didn’t have a supportive person around, she fell to pieces. And at the zoo, I was the only supportive person she had.” Stan swallowed. “It was rough on me, but way worse on her. Even worse than when we had Molly.”

“Did she really blame herself?” Fiddleford asked quietly. Stan sighed.

“What do you think, Fidds? You know how your fam’ly gets. Of course she blamed herself. It didn’t help that the zookeepers kept sayin’ things like ‘gestational stress’ and ‘result of mother’s ill health’ when they talked about Emmett.” Emmett squirmed in Stan’s arms. “She’ll start calming down once the girls get here. She’s excited for them to meet Emmett.”

“He is a cutie,” Fiddleford said with a shaky smile.

“Yeah. Like his sisters and mom,” Stan agreed. “But you guys should, y’know, be careful for a little while. The only reason I’m not angry right now is ‘cause Angie sorta ruined it. She sucked all the angry outta the room when she started swearing. I’m gonna get angry again, though. Ford, don’t go upstairs for a couple weeks.” Ford nodded silently. “Fidds, stay away from the nest for a while. Neither of you are allowed to hold Emmett until after the girls get here.”

“Understandable,” Fiddleford mumbled.

-----

Tate waved goodbye to his friends as they drove away after dropping him off at home. He put his hands in his pockets and strode up to the house, whistling. His ears picked up on faint sobbing coming from the side of the house. He changed direction, following the sound. As he walked into view, he frowned at the source of the crying.

“…Auntie Angie?” he asked. Angie looked up. She had been sitting on the ground, leaning against the side of the house while she cried. She hurriedly wiped her cheeks.

“Tater Tot, good to see ya,” she croaked. Her voice creaked, like it had been a while since she’d used it. Tate joined her on the ground. She smiled fondly at him. “Ya get bigger each ‘n ev’ry day.”

“I’m a teenager,” Tate said with a shrug. He cocked his head. “Why were you cryin’ just now?”

“Oh, nothin’ fer you to be worried ‘bout.”

“Auntie, please,” Tate said. Angie shook her head. “Come on, please talk to me. I don’t get to see ya much.”

“If ya must know…” Angie sighed. She looked away. “You ‘member why yer uncle and I couldn’t watch ya while yer fathers were occupied with their research, right?”

“Yeah. You and Uncle Stan were expecting your next kid, and didn’t need to watch me on top of it.”

“Exactly.”

“Speakin’ of, where’s my new cousin?”

“Emmett’s inside, bein’ showed off to yer fathers.” Angie rubbed her eyes. “He was…difficult.” Tate’s heart plummeted. He’d heard that rough pregnancies seemed to run in the family; Angie was herself an emergency C-section.

“Is- is he all right?”

“The doctors say he got through the worst of it, so it should be smooth sailin’.” Angie took a breath. “But he was rough on me, and my mental state was rough on him, and he’s- he’s smaller than yer other cousins, and weaker.” She shook her head. “It’s just been a stressful time. I could’ve used some support from yer pa, but yer dad convinced him to do that Manotaur thing, so Stan was the only one there fer me-”

“What about Grannie and Grampie Gucket?”

“They were busy, too.”

“Too busy fer you when you were struggling?”

“Tate, sweetie,” Angie choked out. She pressed the palms of her hands to her forehead. “I shouldn’t have told ya what I did. I sure ain’t goin’ to tell ya more. Yer pa wouldn’t be happy.”

“But-”

“Just go inside, say hi to yer new cousin. I get the feeling you two ‘ll get along like a house on fire.”

“But-”

“I’m not jokin’,” Angie said in a warning tone. Tate swallowed. Most of his McGucket relatives didn’t seem completely serious when their tones became threatening. But Angie had always seemed like there was real bite behind her words. She didn’t posture. She followed through on warnings.

“Okay,” he said quietly. He got up. “Once yer done cryin’ outside, though, I think Pa would like to talk with ya. I’m sure he feels bad he couldn’t be there fer you.”

“Just go inside, Tate,” Angie said. Her voice was hollow.

It’s like she used up all her emotions and can’t feel anymore. Tate nodded silently. He walked away and entered through the front door. Faint crying emanated from the living room.

“C’mon, Emmett,” Stan’s voice said tiredly. “Stop cryin’. When your mom gets back, we can give you some food and put you down fer a nap, but until then-” Tate walked into the living room. Stan looked up. “Hey, kiddo.”

“Hi, Uncle Stan.” Tate joined Stan on the couch. He peered at his new cousin, nestled in Stan’s arms. “This is Emmett?”

“Yep,” Stan said. Emmett continued to wail. “He’s a looker when he’s not screamin’.”

“Yeah, he seems a bit fussy.”

“I think he misses his mom,” Stan said. He looked down at Emmett. “But she stormed outta here a coupla hours ago after slapping Ford, and I don’t know where she went.”

“She’s outside.”

“What?” Stan looked at Tate. “She’s outside?”

“Yeah. I talked to her a bit when I got back.” Tate rubbed the back of his neck. “She was cryin’, so…”

“She’s crying?” Stan asked. He swore under his breath. “Okay, I’ve gotta go talk to her.”

“Is- is Auntie Angie all right?” Tate asked timidly. Stan let out a heavy sigh.

“No, she isn’t. But she’ll get there. We both will.”

“…You’re not all right, either?”

“Tate…” Stan shook his head. “Look. Your pa would flip if I told you the real reason Angie and I are so pissed at your dads.”

“Why?”

“I can’t get into this,” Stan said abruptly. He handed Emmett to Tate and stood. “Your dads don’t want us to tell you, and my wife is crying outside. Just- hold onto Emmett for a bit, okay? Once Angie’s calmed down, we’ll head home.”

“O-okay,” Tate stammered. Stan strode out of the living room. Tate heard the front door open and close. He looked down at his infant cousin. Emmett had stopped crying and was staring at him with wide, brown eyes.

Auntie Angie and Uncle Stan were always a bit weird, like most people in the family. But I swear, each year, they get more and more eccentric.

“You’re not gonna be as weird as ‘em, are ya?” Tate asked Emmett quietly. Emmett stared at him silently. “Don’t worry, I’ll help ya stay relatively normal. Us boys gotta stick together.”

#I haven't written ANYTHING in this AU from Tate's perspective #so it's a bit overdue for me to actually do #esp since he's got a great perspective. what with not knowing the birds in the attic are his relatives #and where are Fidds and Ford in the second scene? uh...making themselves scarce mostly #they've learned from experience what happens when their birdly siblings are pissed #Phoenix Enchantment AU #Angie McGucket #Stanley Pines #Emmett McGucket #Fiddleford McGucket #Stanford Pines #Tate McGucket #Stangie Family #my writing #ficlet #speecher speaks

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razieltwelve · 6 years

Text

Affordability (Final Rose)

"Doesn’t it bother you?” Weiss asked Ruby. “We’re just students. This settlement is right on the frontier. Shouldn’t they be hiring fully qualified huntsmen and huntresses instead?”

Ruby made a face. “But, Weiss… it’s a great opportunity! We need more mission experience, and this doesn’t sound like it’ll be too hard.”

Blake glanced up from the book she was reading. It was a treatise on several ancient civilisations that had been co-authored by Professor Dia and some of her colleagues. “It’s about affordability, Weiss. The government usually offers some assistance to outlying settlements, but the fact is that most small settlements can’t afford to hire fully qualified huntsmen and huntresses on a regular basis. It makes sense for them to hire students whenever they can since students don’t charge as much for their services.”

Weiss frowned. “Well, what happens if they do need qualified huntsmen and huntresses? What are they supposed to do then?”

Yang grimaced. “Die, I guess.” She caught the look of shock on both Ruby’s face and Weiss’s. “Look, that was a little blunt. But my parents have talked to me about this.” She patted Ruby on the shoulder. “They were going to talk to you about it too, but they couldn’t find the right time. Basically, if a settlement can’t raise enough money to hire a huntsman or huntress, they have to rely on the charity and goodwill of others. There are huntsmen and huntresses out there who will take missions for good PR, and there are even some who’ll take missions in exchange for things like free accommodation if they’re ever travelling that way again or in barter for things like Dust, rare plants, and so on.”

“That’s awful,” Ruby murmured.

“It is, but it’s how the world works. Hunting can be dangerous, sis, and people don’t usually want to risk injury or death if they’re not going to be paid. They’ve got families to look after too.” Yang leaned back in her chair. “I’m not saying we should be greedy, but what we do is dangerous. It’s hard to justify doing it for free.”

“There are other options,” Blake added. “A settlement in need of help can advertise it as an opportunity for the military or other groups to test themselves or their equipment. Professor Dia routinely sends drones and robots to help poor settlements since it gives her the perfect opportunity to collect performance data.”

“She might say that, but I think she’s just being generous.” Weiss frowned. The professor was very kind despite her quirky exterior. It made her wonder if her family’s company ever took steps to help those in need. “But I suppose hiring students is an efficient way to handle easier missions since fully qualified huntsmen and huntresses might be overkill if there aren’t too many Grimm to deal with.”

“Yeah!” Ruby nodded firmly. “That’s right, Weiss. We might be students, but we can still help people, and this will be a great way to improve our skills as well.”

“Just don’t get too confident,” Blake warned. “We might be students at the best academy in the world, but we are still students.”

“Talent helps,” Yang muttered. “But inexperience kills.” They all stared at her, and she grinned. “Raven mom says that all the time. She said there were a couple of missions that Team STRQ took that were a lot harder than they should have been since they didn’t have the right level of experience.”

“Then let’s be careful,” Weiss said. “I don’t know about you three, but I enjoy having all of my limbs attached to my body.”

X X X

Ruby was taken aback by the gratitude of the villagers when she and her team arrived. They were being treated like, well, heroes. It made her wonder how naive she really was. The Grimm were a threat. She knew that just as well as anybody, but she herself had never been personally threatened by them.

When she’d been too small and weak to defend herself, her parents had been there to protect her. Now, she was a student at Beacon. She could protect herself, and she was working hard to be able to protect others. Her mind drifted back to the statistics that her Aunt Lightning had forced the class to memorise.

The average civilian lasted a little under 30 seconds in combat against an average Grimm. That was half a minute. An average civilian would be dead in half a minute. Ruby killed lesser Grimm in about half that time.

“So… what’s the plan, boss lady?” Yang asked with a grin.

“Hmm…” Ruby shook herself out of her musing and directed her attention to her scroll. “The settlement is in a pretty decent defensive location. I mean… we’re at the top of a hill, and we’ve got a good view of the surrounding area. If something attacks, the villagers should be able to contact us with plenty of time to spare. We’ve still got maybe three or four hours of daylight, so we could check out some of the likely nesting spots and see if we can thin the Grimm out a little?”

Weiss peered at the map on Ruby’s scroll. “Which spots were you thinking of? If we’re talking about standard Grimm, then based on Professor Dia’s lectures, there are several likely nesting spots nearby.”

“I can use my clones,” Blake suggested. “I’m getting better at maintaining them for a long period of time. I can scout out the ones on the west side with my clones while we check out the east side.”

“Good idea,” Ruby said. “Hmm… I should have asked for some drones before we left. I can’t believe i forgot that.”

“We were in kind of a hurry,” Yang said. “But, yeah, remember to do that next time, sis. Sure, it’s better to cover ground on foot just to be thorough, but drones can help. Does this area have coverage on the Grimm Monitoring Network?”

Ruby checked. “Not yet. There are a few reports, but nothing we can’t handle.”

“Good.” Weiss smiled. “We are required to complete a certain number of missions each semester. Getting one completed so early in this semester should ease the burden later on.”

X X X

Blake had eventually managed to locate several Grimm nests, but it had been too late for them to move out. The Faunus might be able to see in the dark, but the others were not so lucky. Even if they used Aura enhancement for their vision, it would be difficult, and there was no sense in risking it when they could simply head out in the morning.

Or so they thought.

Blake was awakened by the hard rapping of fists against the door of the room she and the others were staying in. She was awake in an instant, her weapon in her hands. The others weren’t far behind her.

“We’re under attack!” someone shouted from the other side of the door. “We’re under attack!”

Whatever sleepiness still lingered vanished the instant Blake heard those words. They quickly threw on their clothes and scrambled out the door. The streets of the village were filled with adults running toward the walls with whatever weapons they could muster. Elsewhere, the elderly were shepherding the children into the strongest buildings.

“Where are they?” Ruby shouted over the din.

One of the village’s militia ran up to them. “They’re at the gate, ma’am! They’re going to break through!”

There was a tremendous crash, and Blake knew that it was too late. The gate had been breached.

“Come on!” Ruby shouted. “We have to get to the gate. It might be broken, but if we can keep the Grimm in that area, things shouldn’t get too bad.”

“Right!” Weiss’s heart was pounding. Blake could hear it. “Usual formation?”

Ruby took a moment to think. “Yeah. Yeah, that should be okay. Blake, can you send some clones ahead, so we don’t just run in there blind.”

“Already doing it.”

Blake’s mind split, the awareness from her clones drifting in as they raced ahead of her. The gate was a mess of broken wood and twisted metal. However, the militia were fighting bravely, those with melee weapons trying to hold the line as their fellows with ranged weapons offered supporting fire.

“They’re faltering,” Blake shouted. “We need to move!”

X X X

Yang hit the first line of Grimm with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. But that was the point. These militia were brave, but they were fragile. Yang could not only take a hit but also dish one out too. Her first punch caved in the skull of a Grimm before she turned and fired into the gaping maw of another. It reeled back, and a savage kick to its chest cracked its ribs and sent it sprawling away.

“Get back!” Yang shouted to the militia. “I’ll handle the front. You guys watch the side. Don’t let any of those jerks get around me!”

The militia hurried to obey, and Yang deflected a swipe of a Grimm’s claws with her Semblance. The blow sent energy shuddering through her, and she boosted the strength of her counter attack - a thunderous hook to the body of the Grimm that pulped its internal organs.

“Yang, together!”

The blonde grinned toothily as Blake entered the fray beside her. The Faunus was a blur of motion, her weapon whipping through the air as clones entered the fight alongside her. The two of them had practiced this countless times at Beacon. Blake and her clones would keep them from being overwhelmed while redirecting any particularly troublesome Grimm to Yang who could break them in half.

Behind them, Yang could feel Weiss’s Aura surge as dozens of Glyphs began to appear. These were designed to trap things and slow them down. Grimm after Grimm was trapped, and the militia with ranged weapons opened fire. It wasn’t easy to hit a Grimm that was charging at full speed, but hitting one that was immobilised was much easier. Weiss spun swiftly, and more Glyphs appeared. There was a flash of heat, and Grimm began to burn.

Yang smirked. Weiss might be a little fragile in a fight, but damn could she do a lot of damage.

Up ahead of them, a massive Grimm with thick armour plating stomped forward only to reel back as a bullet struck it in the eye. There was a brief pause, and then its head exploded in a shower of gore. That was Ruby’s doing. The leader of Team RWBY had found a nice spot to pick off Grimm, and she was using special Dust-augmented rounds to deal with the most troublesome of them before they reached Yang, Blake, or the militia.

“Keep them back!” Ruby shouted. “Don’t let any of them through!” She fired again and then again, the roar of her sniper rifle echoing over the sound of battle. “And get some people along the walls. Some of them might try to sneak over while we’re here!”

X X X

Ruby leaned back against a wall as she watched some of the villagers drag the corpses of the Grimm into the big pile near the gates. Weiss would burn all of them later, but it was kind of amazing seeing how many dead Grimm there were.

“How are you doing, Ruby?” Yang asked. She hadn’t gotten a chance to bathe yet, but she would definitely have to before she got some rest. There was Grimm blood and gore splattered across her clothing. “That took a while, didn’t it?”

“Roughly four hours,” Weiss replied as she came over to join them. The heiress looked all but dead on her feet, and Blake steadied her as she walked over as well. “That’s how long the attack went. At least, we killed most of them.”

“Not all of them, though,” Blake mused. “Which means we’ll have to deal with them later.” She smiled. “But we can do that tomorrow. We killed enough of them that the village should be safe for tonight.”

“We killed the big ones too,” Ruby murmured. “Which helps. It’ll be years before any of the ones that escaped get that strong.”

“That’s true.” Weiss smiled. “But… I think we did very well. We protected the village, killed a lot of Grimm, and none of us were seriously injured.”

“I’ll take that,” Yang said. Not every team was so lucky on a mission like this. Broken limbs were bad enough, but it wasn’t unheard of for students to return with graver injuries. “I will definitely take that.”

X X X

“We got the mission report back!” Ruby cried, running into their dorm room. The others hastily gathered around as she began to flick through their mission report. Comments had been written by Professor Farron, and they all groaned as the professor pointed out areas where they could improve. However, those groans turned into cheers when they reached the end. “We got an A!”

“An A?” Weiss shook her head in amazement. “Professor Farron gave us an A? Not a single one of the missions we did last semester got us anything higher than a B-.”

“That’s because we’re better now,” Yang said, flexing her bicep. “Look out, Beacon, the new and improved Team RWBY is coming to get you.”

“In fairness,” Blake added. “We did spend a lot of time arguing on our missions last year, so we have definitely improved.”

“Indeed.” Weiss smirked. “But can I assume that we would all like to do even better?”

“You bet,” Yang said. “I want that A+.”

#final rose #fanfiction #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #team rwby

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artlessictoan · 8 years

Note

Your fav temari ship + college au? Thanks!!

oooh it was a toss-up between sakutema or tematen, buuut inthe end sakutema won, thanks for the req! (I’m basing this off my 1st yr unihousing where you had a square of shared houses and one house was turned into an absolutely tiny laundromat, idk how common a setup that is but it’s whatI know so yup)

—

By the last few steps, she was gasping for air; damn, she’d have to resume her regulargym routine asap if she wanted to get back in shape.

You wouldn’t think that hauling a bag of laundry just acouple of hundred yards down the street would be so exhausting, but Sakura hadbeen so caught up with her work these last few days – or more like weeks – thatshe’d put off almost all of her daily chores until she was down to wearing themost season-inappropriate of vests and turning socks inside out. If she hadn’trun out of clean underwear she might’ve put it off for another night or two.

So, here she was, dropping a repurposed tent bag stuffed tothe brim with every single item of clothing that she owned – except for aflimsy vest and her most worn, threadbare, beloved pair of pyjama pants, whichwere doing fuck all to keep out the bitter winter chill, so she’d also draggedher heavy, warm quilt, wrappedawkwardly around herself, all the way down the street with her – on thedoorstep to the student laundromat and was now trying to get her frozen fingersto work enough to put. The. Damn. Key. In. The-

Sakura blinked tiredly at the sudden light blasting herretinas.

When she finally managed to process the person waitingpatiently at the open door, she half wanted to just abandon her laundry, turnaround and run into the night.

The woman looking her up and down with a smirk was attractive,no, stunning; all long, well-built limbs and dark, olive skin and her eyes, big, dark and framed with long,thick lashes – even as they narrowed upon examining her.

She finally reached the overflowing bag at her feet andsnorted, wide grin showing off dimples in her cheeks.

“The post-deadline backlog, huh?”

The strangers voice was low and husky and already Sakurawished she could have an entire cd of nothing but that voice, to help her relaxwhile studying.

She gingerly wrapped her quilt closer around her and triedto laugh her awkwardness away. “Yeah… Uh, thanks for getting the door,” shesaid, gathering up her things and shuffling past her into the small space, therumbling of the tumble-drier filling her ears.

“No problem, we’ve all been there.” With that said sheclosed the door and went back to her spot sitting on the windowsill, picking upa thick textbook and settling back into her studies.

Sakura casually glanced at the title – Ethical Problems in the Practice of Law, heavy stuff – beforedecisively turning to the reason she’d come here in the first place. Thelaundromat wasn’t much, there were only two washing machines and one large drier,but it’d have to do. At least it rarely got busy on a Saturday night,especially one when most students had just finished their last hand-in of theterm and could now go out and drink themselves to oblivion, completelyguilt-free!

After five minutes of grunting trying to shove everythinginto one machine, colour bleed be damned, she eventually accepted defeat andsplit the load between both washers, fumbling her coins into the slots finally she could relax.

She spun round and slumped onto the floor, leaned backagainst a machine – not even caring about the vibrations jarring her spine –and wrapped her discarded duvet back around herself.

The beautiful stranger had stopped reading and was givingher an amused look.

“You comfy there?”

Sakura snorted and shook her head. “Not in the slightest,”she murmured, eyes growing heavy as weeks of exhaustion finally caught up withher. She wasn’t quite sure what to do now, the other woman was smiling at herin a way that made her chest feel uncomfortably tight and she had apparentlydecided that her book wasn’t half as interesting as observing the GreaterDishevelled Undergrad in its natural habitat, but now that she had all thatattention, she had no idea what to do with it.

“Sooo… you’re studying law?”

Wow, smooth.

The beautiful stranger clearly agreed from that snicker.“Yeah, postgrad international law to be exact, you?”

She smiled, at least she was giving her the time of day –though that might be more to do with the mass of fabric in the tumble-drierthan her sparkling conversation.

“Biomedical science.”

The reaction when she said that was always the same; awidening of eyes and the mouth dropping into a small ‘o’ and she loved it, itwas a big, scary-sounding field, one that impressed people even before they knewwhat it really entailed and she loved that feeling of knowing someone else wasstunned and even a little intimidated by her intelligence.

Even the beautiful stranger, with her daunting internationallaw, was giving her an approving smirk. “Nice, it sounds pretty intense though,I guess all that experimenting doesn’t leave much time for washing clothes,huh?”

“Not really,” she said, sitting up a little straighter soshe looked at least a little more professional – though given the firstimpression she’d given that was probably a lost cause – “though we aren’t inthe labs much this early in the year, we only just handed in our big researchproject proposals this afternoon.”

Beautiful’s eyes were sparkling and her grin wide as sheleaned forwards in her seat a little more, Sakura noticed for the first timethat the eyes she’d initially thought were brown, were actually more of a darkblue-green, the shade reminded her of the deep, open ocean, full of mystery andalluring danger.

She had to cough to try and clear the sudden catch in herthroat.

“Oh, really? So what’s your project about then? Going tocure cancer or something?”

Her instincts were telling her to go off on a longjargon-laden rant which made her sound very capable and intelligent, but shereigned herself in just as her mouth opened. “Uh, not exactly I’m-”

There was a ‘ping’ as the tumble drier finished its lastcycle, the other woman jumped up to collect her laundry, but she gave anencouraging gesture to continue and kept glancing over, even as she startedcarefully folding t-shirts.

“I’m actually doing my project on asthma management,” shequickly barged on in her most defensive tone before she could be laughed at, “Iknow it sounds boring and insignificant, but there are so many people who have to deal with minor condition like it and Ilike the idea of making someone’s everyday life that bit easier, even if it’snot as impressive as curing the Hollywood diseases…”

She trailed off as the giggles finally started and frownedup at the statuesque blond.

“No! No, I’m not laughing at you because of the project,really,” she quickly explained, holding her hands up and unsuccessfully wipingthe grin from her face, “I just think it’s cute how passionate you are aboutit.”

Her cheeks were starting to feel hot and she ducked her headto hide the blush. “Oh… uhm, thanks.”

“I actually think it sounds really interesting, my babybrother has asthma so I know a little of what it’s like to deal with it.”

Sakura glanced up again and saw Beautiful smiling down ather, her expression open and honest, she smiled back. “Ah, that’s great! Do youthink he might be interested in being interviewed about his daily managementhabits? And maybe even taking part in some trials?” she asked, abandoning hercosy cocoon and jumping up, wishing she’d brought a notepad with her, how longwould it take to run back to her room-

A low chuckle brought her back to the present and she gaveher companion an embarrassed grin. “Sorry, I tend to get carried away with thisstuff.”

Beautiful shook her head as she dropped the last of herwashing into her square hamper, placing her book on top – though not beforegrabbing the pen clipped to its cover – she took a few steps closer and heldout her hand expectantly.

“Tell you what, lets exchange numbers, that way I can letyou know what he says; and maybe even take you out to dinner one night? You cantell me all about how your research is going and I can bore you withcomparative law theory and Martens Clause.”

Was she being asked out on a date? By a gorgeous Amazon, whowas intelligent and witty and actually interested in her work? While she waswearing her ancient, unflattering HelloKitty pyjamas?

“Yes!” She immediately coughed to calm her tone back tosomething approaching human and awkwardly gave the woman her hand. “I mean,yes, that would be amazing, uh…”

God, that smirkwas going to kill her. “Temari.”

“I’d love that, Temari. I’m Sakura by the way.”

She tried not to twitch too hard as the pen tickled againsther skin and when it was handed to her to return the favour, she tookexaggerated care with her handwriting, if only so she’d have an excuse to holdTemari’s hand for a few seconds longer.

But, eventually she had to reluctantly let go, giving backthe pen and watching as her new friend lifted her hamper and started towardsthe door.

“Bye, Sakura, I’ll call you.”

With a wink and a flick of dirty-blond hair, she was gone.

She had to dive back into her duvet nest to muffle hersqueals.

—

#ictoan writes #sakutema #temari #sakura haruno #femslash february #naruto #under a cut cause this one got p long pff #ahhh so fun to write though!#i love this ship so goddam much #same sakura #same #i know nothing about medicine or law so i just went around google looking for impressive sounding shit

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itsworn · 6 years

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Getting My First Mopar

Greetings, my fellow Ghoulz!

It’s that time again … I would like to open by expressing my heartfelt thanks, to everyone who takes the time to read my little articles. I have great fun writing them and most assuredly, never really have the time I’d like to devote to them, but today is different. It’s Thanksgiving Day, and I’m at the shop. The Worman family has made it a tradition, since we moved into our new location, to have Thanksgiving meals here, along with other family celebrations. I mean, why not? We have a full commercial kitchen, a killer diner area adorned in early 1970s decor, including an original, unrestored Rock-Ola 444 to spin the “Hot Wax” as the Wolfman himself would often proclaim. We even have the wonderful Graveyard Theater to amplify the feelings of the era. But, logistics aside, I can’t think of a better place to give thanks than here at the Graveyard. I not only recognize, daily, just how blessed I am, but also equally, that I’m thankful.

Now, please don’t think that because I’m feeling especially nostalgic and sentimental, or that it’s a holiday, that this article is going to be filled with doting recollections of warm times past or bromides of hopeful futures. Undoubtedly, you’ll get your fill of old-fashioned yarns spun by your favorite grandfather, filled with platitudes like “those were the days” and “you should have been there.” So, I’ll save that for the next time I’m paid a visit from the ghost of Thanksgiving past.

The Dodge Charger Part: It was the summer of 1977, and I was 14, going on 15. I had saved up my paper route money to buy a 1971 Honda CL-100 Scrambler. It was a whopping $296 at Gillette’s, a little motorcycle shop in Glenwood. I loved that little bike and so did my mom. I rode it everywhere, even to deliver papers on my three routes. Of course, I know you’re wondering how a 14- to 15-year-old kid with no driver’s license could ride a motorcycle on public highways … well, I just did. I rode alleys, back roads, behind stores, you name it. I also confess that I received my share of tickets along the way, 19 if I recall correctly, and all before I was old enough to drive.

The reason I ended up with three paper routes is the exact same reason I have a best friend named Royal Gayland Yoakum. You see, I had two paper routes near my house for quite some time, and one day I got a call from our team leader at the Eugene Register-Guard, Dave Harding, who asked me if I’d like to take on another route. I quickly accepted the offer, as I liked having money of my own to buy model cars, or for trips to 7-Eleven for Big Gulps and candy, among other things, and I didn’t mind the work because it gave me a legitimate reason to ride my Honda. Just before we hung up I asked, out of curiosity, who it was that had the route before me. Dave replied, his name is Royal, and he’ll take you on the route your first day to get you familiar with all of the houses and customers. I thought nothing of it and the following week, I met Royal for the first time.

Upon meeting Chrome Dome, I was shocked to find that he was the same age as me. I thought for sure someone with a name like Royal and the eagerness to just hand his paper route over, was bound to be old and decrepit … like 30 or something. After exchanging introductions, I found myself unable to resist asking him, “Why are you giving up your paper route, don’t you need money?” To which he took a semi-deep, relaxed breath, planted his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, blinked once, all with slow, intentional motions and replied, “I need my space, man.” And those five simple words have always best described my friend, Royal G. Yoakum.

I recall the moment I spotted the Dodge Charger that would serendipitously link me to my legacy, which is Mopar. I had gone with a buddy to the employment office in Springfield, where he was to fill out an unemployment claim, having just been laid off from a truck washing job at UPS. The employment office was located upstairs, in what now is Springfield City Hall. The library is also located upstairs. In fact, this building is all “upstairs.” It was originally built as a retail mall. It had functioning escalators, retail stores, and snack shops. Underneath was all parking. For some reason, the mall didn’t last long, before morphing into the current Gateway mall located several miles away.

When you walked up the stairs on the north side of the building, there was a small landing area, just outside the doors to the entrance. This is where I told my friend, George, I’d wait for him. Now, his first name isn’t really George; that was his middle name. But, for some reason, there were people who called him Andy and some who called him George. I don’t know why I chose to be in the latter group, but I did. His brother was a good friend of mine, Jerry. You’ve heard me tell stories about this, larger-than-life guy who befriended me and quickly became my version of Bill Brasky. That Saturday Night Live character who seems much larger and more far-fetched in death, than he ever was in life. Like in the sketch, I have many tall tales of Jerry and myself — things I witnessed and things I heard. Jerry died early in life, he was just 30, but his legend lives on in my heart.

Soon after George went into the building, I found myself leaning casually on the concrete barrister, spitting from the second floor to the steps beneath, in an attempt to tighten my pattern. It was minutes later when I looked up in a northeast direction and spotted her. It took a moment for my brain to calculate what my eyes were seeing and cross-reference the vision with my, at that time, shallow database of cars. As soon as my brain caught up, and I realized what I was seeing, I felt a sense of urgency for George, Andy, what-the-hell-ever, to get out of here so we could go check it out. I had to wait, that’s to be sure, because that’s how it works. Like watching grass grow as my dad would say. Everything takes longer if you’re in a hurry. I guess I felt like Arnie Cunningham must’ve felt when Dennis drove by Christine that fateful day. Arnie was impatient for his friend to “go back,” and I was impatient for my friend to “get out.”

In what seemed like an eternity, as the saying goes, my buddy finally made it out of the building to join me at the top of the stairs. I was pacing by the doors so as not to lose any time on garnering his attention. We walked over to my former spitting nest, and I pointed her out to him. The house was probably 500 yards away, as the crow flies. The Dodge Charger was covered in maple leaves, dirt, sap, and pretty much anything that had landed on it over the years. It hadn’t been washed in a very, very long time — three years to be exact. Not since the Charger was towed out here on a car trailer, behind a 1976 Dodge Power Wagon, from Michigan, by its owner. An owner who I was about to meet.

I remember it well, my buddy’s reaction to the Dodge Charger was much like Dennis’ reaction the first time he saw the 1958 Plymouth in Roland Lebay’s yard; in the Stephen King novel, Christine. While George didn’t come right out and call it a piece of “crap” like Dennis quipped of Arnie’s first love, he sure had no interest in checking it out. He said, “It’s a Dodge Charger, right?” I replied, “Yes, indeed, a 1970 in fact.” I was pretty proud of myself at the time for being able to call the make, model, and year. However, my prideful moment quickly transformed to make room for angst as George, in his infinite desire to constantly damper the spirits of anyone in his proximity. It didn’t really bother me as I was tempered to most of his cutting jabs, already. With some hesitance, he accompanied me on the short walk to 626 N. A Street.

The small house sat on an elevated piece of land, back from the road 40 feet, or so. I remember feeling that the house felt like a person, sitting on high and looking down on us in judgment as if to say, “What the hell do you want?!” Well, I know what I wanted, and I wasn’t leaving without knowing more. As I circled around the Dodge Charger and inspected it closely, even to rub my finger on the fender to see what color the car really was under all the muck, George sat aloof at the foot of the maple tree, smoking a cigarette, Camel, I’m sure. The same tree that had shed its organic spring coat to cleverly camouflage the car’s true color was providing shade to my miserable friend.

After looking over the old gal (that’s what guys sometimes refer to cars as) for reasons unknown, I walked up the short, steep stairs to the front porch and knocked on the wooden screen door. It took a minute or so, but I didn’t have to knock twice before I was greeted by a, shall I say, portly fellow with a large beard and an even a larger smile. He opened the screen door before he knew what I wanted and introduced himself with a handshake, “Howdy, I’m Butch (who was also the owner of the 1976 yellow Dodge Power Wagon).” At the time, I thought “Wow, this is a really cool dude, what a nice cat.” At first, I thought to myself, “Maybe he’s always this way, and if so, what a great guy to know.” Upon further reflection, he was a great guy and had a heart of gold, but, he probably also knocked on his fair share of doors in hopes of buying some discarded automotive relic, much like I did, and felt the need to, as the Bible says, “Do unto others.”

We talked for a little bit on the porch. Shortly after discussing the car, how it got here to Oregon and what his involvement with the car was, he offered to start it up. Frankly, I was shocked that he had the confidence to make that offer, considering it didn’t look like the hood of the car had been opened in at least a couple of years. Butch sat in the car, pumped the gas pedal a bunch of times and cranked her over. It didn’t fire. Then, like the shampoo commercial, he lathered, rinsed, and repeated, until it thundered to life. He had put glass packs on the car with 1971-style B-Body exhaust tips on it, and it sounded great! Oddly, it didn’t smoke or make a much-anticipated death rattle or knock, it just purred. We walked around the car for a bit as George sucked on his death sticks under the big tree, occasionally darting his eyes up to give me the “Gawd, look at ya, Worman,” look. That was his favorite, I think, just to look you up and down and invite you to “look at yourself,” with a contemptuous, judgmental pitch in his voice. “Well, whatever George, this is my day so look all you want. I’m buying her.” I thought to myself.

Butch killed the mill, we walked back to the front of the house and up the steps to the quaint porch area. We exchanged pleasantries for a moment, but I was anxious to get down to “business.” I waited for a pause in the conversation and then asked the question I had been dying to ask since I saw the car from up on the stairs at the employment office, “How much are you asking?” Now, while I was prepared to hear the worst, “Sorry, the Charger’s not for sale, kid.” I was ever hopeful that not only would it be for sale, but also that the price would land somewhere in the realm of possibility for me, but honestly, I had no idea. My robust new found friend didn’t take long; he was ready for the question and launched the answer without aim. “$475,” he exclaimed. That number rolled off his tongue with all the poised surety of a coverall-clad, used car salesman named Junior Samples, professing that you should, “Come down and have a look, I’m honest Junior Samples, if you can’t trust me, who can you trust? The stock number is BR549.”

Well, it wasn’t Junior, it was Butch and in fairness, Butch was much sharper than old Junior Samples had ever dreamed of being. Butch was a Mopar guy from the time he was 16 years old and had never stopped, at least not by the time I met him, and he was 35 years old. I extended my hand to him, shook it firmly, in classic salesman fashion and said, “Sold.” It took me over a year to wheel and deal and save the money to buy my Charger. I traded my little Honda CL-100s in on a 1968 Impala, two-door hardtop, at J.L. Morgan Motors over on South A Street where it meets Main and becomes a four-lane highway. I then traded the Impala a few months later to a guy who lived in the El Rancho trailer park, across the street from the 7-Eleven that Royal and I frequented multiple times a day. The guy had a 1972 Toyota Corona Mark II, four-door sedan. I thought a straight trade would be fair, so I made the deal. It took me a few months to get the Toyota up to where I thought I could list it in the Money Saver. The Money Saver was our family bible. As kids, we couldn’t wait for it to hit the newsstand at 7-Eleven so we could grab a copy, along with a Big Gulp, and head to my house to dream.

It took one day for the Corona to sell. I got $375 for it — not bad, considering I was in the Impala about $300 clams. This money, along with $50 I had earned from my paper route and mowing lawns, put me over the top. So, finally, I was off to visit Butch.

Look, I could drone on and on about my experience buying the car. You know, the way Chrome Dome and I hot-stepped it from 14th and E Street to 6th and North A Street in record time. Or how we wrote up the deal, Butch counting the cash while informing me, with what seemed each lick of his finger, how he bought and sold this car and that car and all of his wheeling-dealing conquests to my expressionless face. I could tell you in detail about how Royal and I drove the car to my house and how we spent the afternoon cleaning it with sponges, brushes, and an entire can of Mom’s Ajax cleaner as she dotingly looked on from the living room window. But in truth, I’ve already burned up way more than my allotted word count for this article and that part of the story deserves much more time.

In closing, I’ll leave you with this postscript to ponder. I no longer have my beautiful Charger. I haven’t seen her in almost 40 years. I hope she’s out there somewhere, alive, and that her new owner is loving her as much as I did — though I doubt that’s possible. But in truth, it’s probably gone to that great Mopar graveyard in the sky, waiting patiently for me to shuffle off this mortal coil, so that we can be at last reunited. At least that’s the way I see it.

I’ll write more about the old gal and the times I had with her. The times in my life that, at the moment, seemed like nothing extraordinary. But now, in the rearview mirror, are much great than they appeared.

I’ve been called a memory chaser, one who lives in the past, ya know. Well, maybe I am, that’s OK by me. If you’re not, that’s cool too. I just would like to say, if you come across a 1970 Dodge Charger and she’s still wearing her dog tags, check and see if there’s an XP29L0G118 still visible through the windshield, and if so, tell her I miss her.

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thelastspeecher · 7 years

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Human Again

I’ve got some other things I’m planning on posting the next couple weeks, after I’m done with finals (got one left; tomorrow morning). But here’s a couple scenes from the Phoenix Enchantment AU that I’ve written in between things recently. It’s...pretty long. Normally I post things more quickly, so they don’t build up like this did. Fiddleford and Ford figure out who Prometheus and Pele are, and after some good news, the birds get some pretty upsetting news. It starts immediately after Fiddleford and Ford get back from Pinatubo’s vet appointment. Enjoy.

Ford opened the front door.

“That went much better than I expected,” he said cheerfully to Fiddleford. Fiddleford nodded.

“Yessir. Pele was on her best behavior, and was keepin’ Pinatubo calm just like we hoped she would. We should give ‘em a big ole treat later.”

��Agreed. I- holy shit.” Ford cut off his sentence upon seeing the destruction in the living room. “What the hell happened?” The hardwood floor was full of long scratches, cushions had been torn, and pieces of ripped paper were scattered everywhere.

“Darn it, I should’ve known better ‘n to leave Prometheus loose,” Fiddleford muttered. There was a small chirp from the carrier he was holding. “Pele, yer mate messed up the house big time.” Ford frowned at the scratches in the floor.

“Those almost look like letters,” Ford said slowly. He crossed over to the other side and gazed down. His eyes widened. “They are letters.”

“Prometheus can write?” Fiddleford asked, aghast. He set down the carrier and joined Ford. “Oh, my. It looks like a message.”

“It says…‘We’re really Stan and Angie, you assholes’,” Ford read aloud. He froze. “But that’s-” Pele began to screech from inside the carrier. Fiddleford rushed back to the carrier to open it. Pele stormed out and continued to squawk passionately, pacing back and forth, flapping her wings and bobbing her head in an approximation of gesticulating. Ford and Fiddleford watched her tirade silently. After a few minutes, she stopped, breathing heavily. Fiddleford got down on his knees and stared at the phoenix.

“Angie?” Fiddleford asked weakly. Pele let out a small croak. “Yer- yer a bird?” She nodded.

“That’s impossible,” Ford said.

“This is Gravity Falls,” Fiddleford snapped. “I doubt anything’s impossible here.” His eyes widened. “If- if Prometheus and Pele are Stan and Angie, then- then lil Pinatubo’s our niece! Stanford, we took our niece to the vet!”

“Fiddleford, it’s quite possible Pele and Prometheus are just lashing out at us for taking their chick from them,” Ford said. “They’re quite intelligent, after all, and have heard us talk about our missing siblings before.” Pele squawked indignantly.

“No, this is Angie,” Fiddleford said softly, looking at Pele again. “I can see it in her eyes.” Pele trilled at him. “I’m so sorry, lil sis. Let’s take ya back upstairs and get yer baby settled in. Then we can discuss what to do.” Pele nodded and walked back into the carrier. Fiddleford closed the door.

“Fiddleford, I still don’t completely believe-” Ford started.

“Oh, hush,” Fiddleford said snippily. He walked away.

-----

After reaching the attic landing, Fiddleford set the carrier on the floor and opened it. Pele burst out, flying to Prometheus at the food stand and chirping at him busily. Fiddleford carefully placed Pinatubo in the nest. He sighed.

“I’m so sorry, Stan ‘n Angie,” he said in a low voice. The phoenixes looked at him. He turned away. There was a flash of light and two loud thuds. Fiddleford spun around. On the floor, dazed and fully nude, were Stan and Angie. “What?!” Fiddleford yelped. Stan stood up woozily. He grabbed the nearby food stand for support.

“Fuck, I feel weird,” Stan groaned in a voice that creaked from lack of use. He looked at the food stand and gaped. “Holy shit. Holy shit, I have fingers again!” Stan stretched out his hands, flexing his fingers. “I won’t take ‘em for granted anymore.” He looked down at Angie, who seemed more disoriented than him. “Babe?” Stan took Angie by the hand and pulled her up. She abruptly slumped against him. “You all right?”

“Ugh, I feel like- like I have the world’s worst hangover,” Angie croaked. Her eyes suddenly widened. “Molly! We have to-” She looked over at the nest, skipping over Fiddleford initially, but then looking back at him. “Fidds!”

“A- Angie? Stan? Yer- yer-” Fiddleford stammered. He ran a hand through his hair. “I- oh, Lord, I’m so sorry, I-” He paused. “Who’s Molly?”

“Our daughter,” Stan said. Fiddleford looked over at the nest.

“That’s her name?”

“Yeah. Like we’d actually use the weird one Ford came up with,” Stan scoffed. He looked at Angie. “Think you can stand on your own? I’ll grab Molly.”

“I’ll be fine,” Angie mumbled. She stood straighter, still wobbling slightly. “Fidds, you have no clue how nice it is fer someone to understand us when we talk again.”

“Oh, my poor baby sister, it must’ve been awful, so long bein’ birds,” Fiddleford whispered.

“Pretty much,” Angie said with a weak grin. Stan yelped. Angie looked over at the nest. “What’s wrong?” “Molly, she-” Stan turned around. Instead of a small phoenix chick, he was holding a human infant. Angie gaped. “She turned human.”

“Whatever made us turn back, it must’ve worked on her, too,” Angie whispered. Stan walked over to her. “Oh! Look at her lil toes, and her lil fingers and- she has twelve fingers!”

“That explains the extra talons,” Stan said. He tickled Molly’s stomach. She giggled, then began to fuss loudly. “Dammit. She never stops makin’ noise.”

“Babies usually don’t,” Fiddleford said. “No matter the species.” Angie and Stan nodded silently. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Stan said. He looked at Angie. “Ang?”

“Yer guess is as good as mine.” She froze. “Stanley.”

“Yeah?”

“We’re naked.”

“So?”

“Let me modify that. We’re naked, and human,” Angie said. Stan stared at her.

“Shit,” Stan said. He looked at Fiddleford. “Mind getting us some clothes?” Fiddleford turned red; it hadn’t hit him until then that he’d been conversing with two completely naked adults.

“Sure, sure, I’ll grab the two- three of ya somethin’.”

-----

Ford hurried into the kitchen. Fiddleford was sitting at the table, playing with Molly’s hands. Stan and Angie were nowhere to be found.

“You didn’t call anyone yet, did you?” Ford asked Fiddleford. Fiddleford shook his head.

“No, sir. We were ‘bout to, but Angie had to rush off to the bathroom. She must’ve eaten somethin’ her stomach disagreed with. Stan went to check on her.” Fiddleford frowned. “I guess after so long without eatin’ certain types of food, her body forgot how to digest it.”

“That’s…not why,” Ford said in a low voice. “I figured out what triggered their initial transformation.” Fiddleford’s face went pale.

“Yer not usin’ a very upbeat tone.”

“No. I’m not.” Ford sat next to Fiddleford and set the bestiary he had brought in on the table. He smiled weakly at Molly. “Hello, Molly.” Molly giggled. “She seems to be in a better mood than she was before.”

“The turnin’ human prob’ly discombobulated her,” Fiddleford said. “But she’s settled in a bit. Got used to havin’ fingers ‘n toes.”

“Just watch, in five minutes, she’s gonna start screamin’,” Stan said, walking into the kitchen, Angie close behind him. He sat at the table and took Molly from Fiddleford. “That’s how it works with ya, isn’t it, Rooster?” Molly giggled again.

“Feelin’ better?” Fiddleford asked Angie. She nodded and sat next to Stan. “I wonder what ya ate.”

“Did you have any dairy products?” Ford asked.

“I had some ice cream,” Angie said.

“That would be the cause of it,” Ford said. Now bouncing Molly on one knee, Stan frowned at Ford.

“What makes you so sure, Sixer?”

“Because…” Ford leaned forward and clasped his hands together. He took a steadying breath. “Your situation isn’t temporary.”

“What do you mean?” Angie asked.

“You’ll revert to your avian forms within 48 hours,” Ford mumbled reluctantly. Stan stared silently at him. Angie froze. “It- I found out what caused your initial transformation. Apparently, in Gravity Falls, there’s an enchantment in place that selects humans to serve as the area’s breeding phoenix pair, should the current one leave.”

“That’s fucked up,” Stan said after a moment.

“Yes. It is. The enchantment allows for the breeding pair to adopt a human form every month during a full moon outside of mating season.”

“It’s been a lot of full moons since we got enchanted,” Angie pointed out.

“It was only after Fiddleford recognized you, that you could transform. That’s a component of the spell, but I’m not sure why.” Ford ran a hand through his hair. “Judging by the lunar calendar this month, you’ll only be in a human form until the sunrise after tomorrow’s.”

“And then we’re birds again?” Angie whispered.

“No. The both of you are still birds, even now,” Ford said. “You’re just in a human form. Due to the enchantment, you’re no longer humans. You’re phoenixes, no matter which form you take.” Angie covered her mouth in horror, tears pricking the corners of her eyes.

“How do we fix it?” Fiddleford interjected. Ford closed his eyes.

“We can’t. The enchantment was set in place by a higher planar being with magical abilities we can’t begin to comprehend. Stan, Angie, I’m sorry.”

“No,” Angie sobbed. Stan put an arm around her shoulders and squeezed tightly.

“Fiddleford and myself, we can arrange for whatever you want, regarding your human identities,” Ford said. “And until you leave, we’ll do our best to make you comfortable in the attic.”

“Unless we decide to live in the woods, we don’t have anywhere to go,” Stan whispered. He swallowed. “We don’t have our place in San Diego anymore. And even if we did, how- how would we pay the bills? We can’t have jobs.”

“Stay,” Fiddleford said suddenly. Stan and Angie looked at him. Fiddleford reached out and took a hold of one of Angie’s hands. “You’ve already got a comfortable setup in the attic. We’ll take care of ya.”

“Fidds, that’s- that’s mighty nice,” Angie said weakly. “But I don’t think I can handle bein’ yer pet again.” She looked over at Molly, still being held by Stan, and choked back a sob. “This mornin’, bein’ separated from Stan like that, by force and trickery, it’s- I can’t take it no more.”

“Yeah, this morning sucked,” Stan said. He stroked Molly’s head. “You guys took Molly and Angie from me. I knew you were comin’ back, but-”

“If you stay with us, we won’t do that no more,” Fiddleford said. “You wouldn’t be our pets. Now we know who ya are, we’ll treat ya the right way.” Angie and Stan were silent. “We’ll give ya some time to think about it.” Fiddleford stood up. “Stanford, let’s go discuss how we’ll deal with Tate ‘n this mess.”

-----

Fiddleford walked into the bedroom he shared with Ford and closed the door.

“I don’t think we should tell Tate,” Fiddleford said shortly. Ford frowned at him. “Look, he’s just a lil kid. He could let it slip to someone, or he’d just get more confused.”

“He deserves to know that the phoenixes are his relatives,” Ford insisted. “What’s going to happen when he gets older? He’s going to treat his aunt, uncle, and cousins like pets.”

“We’ll tell him not to do that.”

“Fiddleford-”

“Stanford, please. The less of the Gravity Falls weirdness Tate’s exposed to, the better,” Fiddleford begged. Ford sighed.

“Fine. But we’ll revisit this in a few years or so. I don’t like keeping him in the dark, particularly given that the rest of your family will be told.”

“Fair enough. When he’s older, we’ll talk again.” Fiddleford slumped against the door, his face pale. “Stanford, I just- I can’t handle what we did to Stan ‘n Angie. Examinin’ ‘em, takin’- takin’ ‘em to the vet, and the stunt we pulled this mornin’. We- we effectively stole Stan’s wife and child from him.”

“They aren’t married.”

“Stanford.”

“But I understand,” Ford said softly. “I- I examined my twin and Angie, took notes on their…bedroom behavior.” His stomach abruptly plummeted. “Sweet Moses. Fiddleford, I recorded my twin and your younger sister having sex.” He dragged his hands down his face. “I showed pictures of my niece being conceived to an auditorium full of students. A paper is going to published that has pornography of Stan and Angie.”

“Oh, Lord.” Fiddleford��s pale face turned green. “We watched our siblings’ sex tape.” There was a knock on the door. Fiddleford took a step back. Stan opened the door and poked his head in.

“Hey, uh, if you’re done talkin’, we decided what to do.”

-----

Ford and Fiddleford followed Stan into the living room. Angie was sitting in the armchair, holding Molly closely. Stan walked to her and whispered something. She smiled weakly, but her tight posture didn’t relax.

“You decided on something?” Ford asked. Angie nodded woodenly.

“We’ll- we’ll take you up on that offer,” Stan said quietly. He put a comforting arm around Angie’s shoulders. “We don’t- there’s not much else we can do.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of ya,” Fiddleford said immediately. “You’ll get everything ya need.” Angie looked down at Molly in her arms, clearly fighting back tears. Fiddleford took a step towards her. “Banjey…”

“Back off,” Stan snarled. Fiddleford blanched. Stan shook his head. “Sorry, Fidds. Our, uh, our instincts are runnin’ pretty high right now. If either of ya get close to Angie or Molly, it’s- it’s not gonna end well. Just so ya know.”

“Instincts?” Fiddleford asked. Stan nodded.

“Turns out birds have strong ones. Can’t fight ‘em off very well.” Stan looked at Molly. “We wouldn’t be parents if we could.”

“Actually, I was curious about that,” Ford said.

“Figured,” Stan muttered.

“So, during mating season, was the urge to copulate-”

“Not now,” Angie snapped. “We’re not goin’ to talk ‘bout that right now. Maybe never.” She took a breath. “We- we have some guidelines we’d like ya to follow, when we’re stuck as- stuck as-” Angie cut herself off, her eyes filling with tears.

“We know we’re basically gonna be your roommates that don’t pay rent,” Stan said, “but no matter how cushy the setup you have for us is, we aren’t gonna stay if things keep happenin’ like they have been.”

“Now that we know the truth, we wouldn’t dream of that,” Ford said. “What are your demands?”

“Demands is a strong word,” Angie mumbled. She shook her head. “Don’t matter. First off, get- get rid of all yer pictures of us…makin’ Molly.”

“Of course,” Ford said.

“Video too.”

“Yes.”

“Take down the camera you have upstairs,” Stan said. Ford nodded.

“No more vet visits,” Angie said quietly. She held Molly a bit tighter. A tear fell down her cheek. “No more.”

“Of cou-” Fiddleford started.

“Wait,” Ford interrupted. Stan and Angie stared at Ford. “We can’t just have a blanket ban on the veterinarian.”

“Stanford!” Fiddleford hissed. A low growl began to emanate from the back of Stan’s throat.

“Stanley, please,” Ford said, holding his hands up placatingly. “I understand you were upset by what happened this morning, but-”

“Poindexter, you and Fidds trapped my girlfriend, stole my kid from her bed, and literally held me back from them,” Stan ground out. “‘Upset’ isn’t even close.”

“Clearly, the surprise vet visits will stop,” Ford said. “But you’re in bird form for most of the time now. A human doctor won’t be able to make sure you’re healthy. A human pediatrician won’t be able to tell you your children are developing properly. What if there’s an emergency when you and Angie are in bird form? The ER can’t do anything for you.”

“What’s yer suggestion?” Angie asked.

“We find someone else. Someone experienced with the magical creatures of Gravity Falls. And we tell them right off the bat that you aren’t normal birds. You’re sentient.” Angie and Stan shared a look. After a moment, Stan nodded.

“Okay.”

“We’ll concede to bein’ data fer yer research,” Angie said. “But whenever ya want to examine Molly, one of us has to be there. And the nonsense with invadin’ our privacy? That’s done.” Angie glared at Ford. “Examinations can’t take our dignity no more.”

“Fair enough,” Fiddleford said.

“And we need to find a way fer us to communicate,” Angie said. Fiddleford and Ford nodded.

“Anything else?” Fiddleford asked. Angie shook her head.

“No.”

“Not right now, at least,” Stan said.

“Glad we got some things settled,” Fiddleford said. He smiled weakly at Angie. She smiled hesitantly back. Emboldened, Fiddleford took another step towards Angie. Stan let out an audible hiss and grabbed Fiddleford’s wrist.

“Fidds,” Stan growled. “Just ‘cause we look calmed down doesn’t mean we are. Do you remember what happened when you guys got close to the nest right after Molly was laid?” Fiddleford nodded. Stan’s eyes narrowed. “Well, now I’m bigger than you. Wanna roll those dice?” Fiddleford paled.

“Fidds, please,” Angie whispered. “I know ya just want to comfort us. But we can’t handle that right now.”

“Okay, okay,” Fiddleford said, stepping back. Stan and Angie visibly relaxed. “Are ya up fer callin’ Ma ‘n Pa?”

“No,” Angie said softly. “But I don’t think I’ll ever be.” She stood up. “At least they’ll be excited they’ve got such a cute lil granddaughter.”

“The cutest granddaughter they’re ever gonna have,” Stan said proudly.

“Cuter than any future daughters of yours?” Ford asked. He shrugged. “Well, we can always find out after next mating season.”

“Don’t remind me,” Stan muttered. “You’d think I’d like knockin’ boots 24/7. But it’s not as fun as a bird.”

“Why?” Ford asked, curious despite himself.

“First off, it’s-” Stan started. Fiddleford cleared his throat. Stan and Ford looked at the McGuckets, who were wearing identical discomforted expressions. “…I’ll tell you some other time.”

#a;ksmdf apparently this whole thing ended up being almost 3k words #and I've got all sorts of other stuff written that I haven't posted for this AU #at this point I'd probably be able to turn it into a full-fledged multichap #...but this is really niche so I doubt I'll do that #Phoenix Enchantment AU #Angie McGucket #Molly Pines #Stanley Pines #Stanford Pines #Fiddleford McGucket #Stangie Family #my writing #ficlet #speecher speaks

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