#like buddy it sounds like you knew what the jig was from the start

[princearthasmenethil]

once, when i was sad about jaina, kel'thuzad told me about the worst date he'd ever been on and made me swear to never tell anyone, but he's dead now so i'm telling all of you.

anyway, there was this fancypants mage party in dalaran, and kt said he hadn't planned on going, but then this super hot alchemist bribed him an obscene amount to go and bring her as his date and let her tell everyone he'd asked her to come with him as his date and she'd said yes out of pity. turned out that she had some kind of asshole arranged fiance and she figured going to the party with a member of the council of six was a great excuse to not go with her fiance. according to kt it was so humiliating that he went home alone and cried himself to sleep.

[ilikebigants]

A bard's rage

Oneshot

100 0~words

Cw: murder, mentions of pedophilia

He was walking down the path, going to Prada to meet up with Geralt when it happened.

He passed by this small village, nothing to write home about, but he did stop to talk to the locals since he was there.

This little girl came up to him requesting songs, and he obliged. Sat right there on the floor and played her jigs to dance to. The neighbours watched on with suspicion at first, but it didn't take long before they were enjoying the sight too.

She danced and danced and didn't seem to tire. And Jaskier sang till his voice grew hoarse.

Many hours later, she stopped dancing and giggling. She looked him in the eyes and said "thank you, Sir" with the most delightful of expressions.

He nodded, and told her

"Why of course, you're my lil' buddy now! When you're older you could be a professional dancer with that much grace!"

He only said it to make her giggle some more, of course, and it worked.

"May I tell you a secret?" The little one asked him then, coming close to his ear. He nodded, not expecting much to come from this conversation.

"I have a different older friend" the girl started, whispering in his ear. And Jaskier was intrigued.

"How much older?" He asked her.

"Much, much older. And we only play at night" she continued, sounding breathless and anxious.

He nodded to her to continue- not liking where this was going.

His blood ran cold as the little girl explained to him how her and the "older friend" played.

"Play, huh… is that what you call it?" He asked, voice hoarse and eyes bulging. He tried to stay calm for the sake of not scaring her off- but inside he was seething.

"Please don't tell me parents" she asked him, looking around as if they'd appear out of thin air.

"They don't like it when I stay up past my bedtime"

He clenched his hands into fists to keep his calm, nodding his head to the little one.

"I won't tell a soul" he promised.

The little girl ran off, then, to go back home. He followed her. He should be going to Prada but no, he had to follow her.

He had to.

He watched on as life went on in the little girls home. He waited till the time she told him off. He waited and waited and then he spotted him.

Young adult, probably around his own age when he came out of Oxenfurt.

Young adult- but still an adult.

Still too old.

The blood in Jaskier's body boiled as he watched on.

The young man stood behind the family's shed, waiting for his victim to come "play".

What the young man didn't see was the dagger that was now puncturing his lung. A hand over his mouth prevented others from hearing the scream that rang through the night as Jaskier murdered the man in cold blood. He stabbed him some more after. 23 times. 1 for every time the little girl asked him to not tell the parents because she was scared of being grounded.

When the body stopped responding, he dragged it to the street and placed it at the family's doorstep with a note.

"This man abused your daughter every single night and you didn't notice. I will come back, and if I find out that you knew or that this happened because of you, I'll make sure your fate is similar to his"

He walked then. He walked till morning and he still wasn't tired. Covered head to toe in blood, clutching the knife he used for dear life.

He used that knife for dear life.

He still wasn't satisfied, though. It wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

His mind went back to Geralt, then. How he said that he doesn't take contracts on humans.

'That's ok' he thought to himself.

'I'll just take them myself'.

He walked non stop till he reached Prada. The blood had dried on him, yet he couldn't care less.

He wondered if that village would try to find and execute him.

He wondered if they'd help the little girl.

He wondered as he wandered.

He knew he was late for the meeting.

He knew he didn't care.

Walking into the inn, he asked if a Witcher had checked in at the reception- ignoring the murmurs of the patrons and the fear in the woman's eyes behind the counter.

At a nod, he left to find him. Didn't even ask for a room number.

He knew that Geralt would be out the door the Instant he smelled the massacre drying on his skin.

He was right, 3rd room to the left, the door burst open and out comes Geralt, ready to defend or kill.

The sword clatters to the ground at the sight of Jaskier.

"What happened?!" He grunted out, coming to check that Jaskier wasn't gravely injured.

The bard stayed quiet. He had nothing to say.

Is this how Geralt feels? Is this why he's always so quiet? Always mourning the lives of others?

The thought didn't have time to develop, Geralt had grabbed him by the arms and was shaking him lightly, as if to wake him up.

"Jaskier? Jaskier! Answer me! What happened?!" He asked, barely showing the rising panic that was overtaking him.

"Don't blame me- love made me crazy" he ends up spitting out.

He was never one to love children, but still, the thought of them being abused… It did something to him. Made something snap and wrinkle in his chest.

"Order me a bath" he ends mumbling, sidestepping Geralt to get in the room and sit down.

He didn't want to explain.

He didn't want to form excuses.

He didn't want Geralt to question his moral compass.

He didn't want.

He'd do it again. He would do it again. It was but a matter of time.

He sat down on a chair and let Geralt fret over him. He just grunted and hummed as replies.

How sad, that he ended up like this.

He closed his eyes and waited for the bath.

He slipped in silently when it arrived, unbothered by taking off his clothes.

He let the water become filthy from the blood as he rested in the hot water.

Somewhere along the line, Geralt got the hint and stopped asking questions.

He didn't want to explain. So he wouldn't.

And he'd do it again, whether the law or Geralt disagreed or not.

[erzaguin]

Huntmira After: Chapter 2

This is also available in Wattpad and Ao3.

“I’m scared,” mumbled Steve. “The look in her eyes is really unsettling.” 

"Why does she keep side eyeing us?"

"I don't think she's looking at us."

“Her laugh is creeping me out. I don't know how much longer I can take this.”

“Captain, maybe you should say something” suggested one of the guards in a hushed tone. 

It had been hours since the masquerade ball had ended. All of the guests had already left and they had been assigned with clean up duty with Kikimora supervising them. Although currently all of the guards were feeling extremely uncomfortable due to her current behavior.

She kept mumbling under her breath too fast and low for them to make out what she was saying. She kept looking around almost like she was expecting someone to jump out at her. She had an almost crazed look in her eyes which made her sudden bursts of laughter seem maniacal. The guards were afraid that she had finally lost it and would randomly attack one of them.

The captain looked at the other guards who looked completely disheveled by their commander's odd behavior. She let out a sigh before making her way to Kikimora. She was responsible for every individual in her unit which also included Kikimora. It was her duty to make sure everyone was ok no matter how much she didn't want to.

She cleared her throat to get Kikimora's attention "Ma'am…"

“Hehehe this is so wonderful?! The Golden Guard made a complete fool of himself.” giggled Kikimora “Did you see? One dance with a girl he just met and he turns into a complete fool. He was so embarrassed after I pointed out he had lipstick on his helmet that he went to hide in his room" laughed Kikimora.

So that's why she's been acting so weird. Kikimora always seems to lose herself when it comes to matters involving the Golden Guard. Though she was right about one thing after the dance the Golden Guard disappeared and nobody has seen him since. 

 "After tonight I’m sure Emperor Belos will realize how incompentet that  brat is and how I am clearly far superior." gleed Kikimora who looked to be doing a little jig. "You'll see that come tomorrow I'll be promoted!"

Hunter

"I can't believe that happened. Wait what if it didn't happen and it was all in my head" mumbled Hunter to himself as he continued pacing back and forth in his room. 

It had already been some time since the ball had ended and he still had a hard time believing that he had spent most of the night dancing with Em. He couldn't help but blush whenever he recalled the events of the night. 

"I can't believe I kissed her" the sudden realization almost completely filled him with dread. 

"What if she thinks I'm a creep now? She's probably mad at me," he was interrupted by a chirping sound coming from the small red feathered bird sitting on his bed.

Hunter's expression visibly softened at the sound of his companion. 

"You're right she did kiss me back," he said as he smiled to himself. "I still can't believe you tagged along."

In response he received more chirping sounds from his small friend. The little rascal had followed Hunter without him noticing. It wasn't until he had jumped on Hunter's head to meet Emira that he found out he had tagged along. Apparently he has been very excited to meet her after hearing Hunter speaking about her.

"You and I need to have a conversation about boundaries some time" noted Hunter as he took a seat on the bed next to his friend. 

". . .So do you think she likes me?" asked Hunter looking down at his boots so his friend couldn't see his eyes.

The question earned him a sharp peck to the head from his companion who seemed to be angry at Hunter's self doubt. He had never really liked seeing Hunter being down and now that he could understand him he made no attempt to hold back his opinions.

"Ouch ok I get it no need to be so aggressive." said Hunter as he nursed his head. 

His companion settled back down on the bed and started chirping away. Scolding Hunter for doubting Emira’s feelings for him especially after tonight. 

He had to give it to the little guy he really knew how to get through to him. He really helped in keeping negative thoughts away. 

Hunter took a deep breath to steady himself and released it. "You're right buddy, thanks," he said as he gave the little bird a gentle pat on his head. 

Just then there was a sudden knock on the door which sent the little palisman into hiding. It was important that nobody found out about the palisman. If Emperor Belos where to find him no Hunter did not even want to think about that. 

"Who is it?" responded Hunter after making sure his friend was out of sight. 

From the other side of the door came a voice that stated "Sir Emperor Belos wishes to speak to you." Hunter relaxed once he realized it was just a guard. 

Even though he had already changed into his regular uniform hours ago he still made sure that he looked presentable before stepping towards the door. If he was going to meet with Emperor Belos he had to make sure that everything was in order.

 Hunter opened the door to find one of the guards standing there doing his best not to make eye contact with him. "Thanks you are dismissed" said Hunter in an authoritative tone.

The guard, who seemed to have been startled by Hunter opening the door forcefully and closing it quickly behind him, gave Hunter an awkward solute before scurrying off. What can you expect even if he was young he was still Emperor Belos' right hand man. A lot of the guards felt intimidated being in his presence and Hunter’s deminor did not help to ease their nerves about him. 

As Hunter made his way to his uncle's throne room he kept thinking about how upset he must be. He was not surprised that his uncle had called for him. In fact he had been expecting it. He had completely disappeared after his first dance with Emira and never came back to his post. 

"Way to fo Hunter he probably thinks you were too embarrassed to come back out" thought Hunter to himself as he came face to face with the doors of his uncle's room. He was about to knock on the door before stopping. In that instant he was completely consumed by the sudden sense of dread. The realization that Emperor Belos might be angry at him had just hit him. He could be in serious trouble. What if he retaliated against Emira? He knew who she was? If his uncle was mad enough at him he could do it and get away with it. No, he had to make sure to keep her safe. Even if it meant never being able to see her again. 

He was brought back by the sound of the door in front of him opening. The small surge of defines he had felt at the thought of Emira getting hurt was completely overtaken by the fear he felt at that moment. 

“Come in Hunter” came a voice from inside the room.

Hunter hesitated for a moment before making his way inside and closing the door behind him.

“Come let me take a good look at you” said Belos as he becond his nephew forward. He was not wearing his mask anymore. He was dressed in his casual robes which was rare to see. Hunter always felt more comfortable speaking to his uncle when he did not have the mask on so seeing him now made his nerves settle a little. He made his way forward to his uncle who placed his hands on his shoulders. 

“So, you had your first kiss” noted Belos with a warm smile on his face and an almost childish joy in his eyes. Hunter felt his face grow warm and found himself at a loss for words. But just as fast he felt the blood drain out of his body.. Was he teasing him? How did he know that he had kissed Emira? Ed had created an illusion so that nobody could see them. How did he know? Did he see? Does he know about my palisman too? 

“I would not have thought you would have become smitten after just one dance and a kiss on your helmet” teased his uncle. “You know after that dance you disappeared but I couldn’t help but notice that so did she. Tell me, did you return to the party?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. 

If someone were to enter the room at this moment  they might have interrupted this as a tender moment between him and his uncle but the tension Hunter was feeling was so intense he could hardly breath. He was not sure if the kiss his uncle meant was the one Emira had given him in front of everyone. How much did his uncle know? Lying to him would be dangerous especially if he knew more than what he was letting on. Besides, Hunter had never been able to lie to him. 

“I..um… yes I did” started Hunter feeling his face growing hot again. “I wanted to ask her to dance not as the Golden Guard but as Hunter.” he mumbled, unable to make eye contact with his uncle. “Her brother created an illusion to keep us concealed and we ended up dancing for the rest of the night.” Hunter tried to focus all of his concentration on keeping his breathing steady.

“I see well I am glad that you followed my order to have fun” he said, placing a hand on Hunter's head, “but i'm sure that dancing was not the only thing you did.” added his uncle in a tone that made Hunter’s veins turn to ice. His mind was racing trying to come up with a response for his uncle but his thoughts were suddenly interrupted by his uncle ruffling his hair as he let out a warm laugh. 

“So you really did get your first kiss tonight?” he continued to laugh as he made his way to take a seat on his throne. “I have to hand it to you, you really do know how to follow an order.”

Hunter was beginning to feel light headed due to the emotional whiplash. He could never read his Uncle. Talking to him always felt like he was treading through a minefield filled with live and fake bombs.

“You know when I said that I wanted for you to stay safe it was not to punish you but to keep you out of harm's way. The titan has big plans for you Hunter so until the day of unity arrives you have to stay safe. So starting tomorrow you will be reassigned.” noted Belos in a somber tone. 

“But sir,” started Hunter but stopped as soon as his uncle lifted a hand signaling silence. “As I was saying, starting tomorrow your new mission will be to find the Blight girl..." Hunter felt his heart drop at his uncle's mention of Emira. A thousand thoughts filled his head in that instant but he clenched his fists in an attempt to restrain himself.  “...and ask her out on a date.” finished Belos with a soft smile on his face.

“Sir?” Hunter’s mind was spinning. Did he hear that right? No that couldn't be. Did his uncle just order him to ask Emira on a date?  

“Who knows how many days of peace we will know once the day of unity arrives. Go enjoy the few days you have left. Now go it’s late and I need my rest.” stated Belos as he dismissed Hunter. 

“Yes Emperor Belos,” responded Hunter with a bow before quickly making his way. He walked back to his room in a daze trying to make sense of what had just happened. Was he that disappointed in him that he no longer wanted to send him on missions? Or did he honestly want to keep him safe and happy. This was very unlike his uncle and Hunter was sure that there had to be a bigger motive for his actions. 

Upon reaching his room he confided in his palisman everything that had happened with his uncle. The small bird convinced Hunter to not overthink things and to ask Emira out on a date. 

“I don't know, it doesn't feel right to just send her a message. What do you think?”

The small bird responded to this with a few chirping sounds. 

“That’s actually a really good idea. I think she would like that a lot.” noted Hunter as he took out a pen and paper to write a letter to Emira. 

Once he was done he attached the letter to the small palismans foot. 

“Ok buddy I’m counting on you.”

[strabbyshortcake]

the truth about snaktooth

Gramble finally tells his partners what befell him and everybody else on the island.

“Whatcha doin’, Gram?”

The screen door clatters as it shuts behind Boots. It’s a nice summer night, one of the rare ones they got with little humidity, so Gramble had left the main door open, the sound of katydids and crickets drifting through from the outdoors. He looks up from the hand towel in his paws, shoulders hunched guiltily.

There’s a large cardboard box sitting on the floor, full of bits of kitchen décor. Ceramic plates with fruit stenciled on them, prints of vintage ads for bread and desserts, towels with produce embroidered on them. All the kitschy things Boots knew he liked decorating his spaces with, and Gramble spent more time in the kitchen than either her or Piesha, with how much he enjoyed cooking.

“Oh, evenin’ Boots,” he greets her, expression softening into a smile. “You remember we talked about Lizbert and Egg visitin?”

“Yeah…?” She pads over, frowning a little at the bare spots on the walls and shelves. Boots was acquainted with the two from attending expedition reunions with Gramble, and while she made it no mystery that she disliked Lizbert’s invasive style of exploration, it was all in the past. Liz had retired from that life after the whole Snaktooth stunt to become a museum curator. “What’s the matter, they allergic to tackiness?”

Gramble laughs at her affectionate teasing. “No, well… Actually, funny you should say that. Egg’s fine, but Liz has got… I guess you could say she’s got kind of a hang-up over food imagery. And while she’s doin’ well these days, might just make her a lil’ more comfortable to not feel so surrounded, y’know?”

“Yeah, yeah, I get you.” Boots nods, reaching up to take the clock off the wall. It’s a piece of painted wood in the shape of a strawberry. Nollie had made it in an art class. “Place is a little dusty, anyway.”

Together he and Boots work to mostly strip the place of any food-related decoration, leaving only a couple little accents up so the place didn’t seem too bare. Gramble sighs at the empty walls, leaning into Boots’ touch as she places a paw on his shoulder.

She and Pie had always been so understanding when he told them he couldn’t talk about what had happened on the island, but he hated to keep his loved ones in the dark. Not simply for the fact that there might still be danger lurking out there, but that he knew he could trust them, and yet, just telling them what had happened was almost as terrifying as the thought of being back there. The idea that just speaking of it would somehow make it manifest, bring it back into his life when he’d worked so hard to escape it, haunted him, but so did keeping it bottled up inside.

“…I need to tell you both what really happened,” he says quietly. “It’s been long enough. Just, after Liz and Egg are gone. Then we’ll talk about it.”

Boots blinks down at him in surprise. “You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

--

The visit went well. This was the first time Lizbert and Eggabell had seen the new house and the refurbished barn, the first they’d met Cardi and Dember, and Nollie had only been a year old when they’d last come around. They’d caught up, shared stories, enjoyed Gramble’s cooking and chatted about where their lives were going and where they’d been.

After they’d waved goodbye, gotten in Eggabell’s car and driven off to see Wambus and Triffany, after the dishes had been cleared and cleaned and the kids were all in bed, Gramble sat Boots and Piesha down on the porch swing in the back while he took the rocking chair.

“I need to tell you,” he says, fidgeting with his paws where they rested on his chest. “about what happened on Snaktooth.”

“Alright.” Pie nods slowly, leaning into Boots’ cushy side. Boots gives him an encouraging smile, rocking the swing back and forth slightly with her heel.

Gramble swallows, licking his lips. “So… Not all of what I told you was a cover-up. We did run outta food and I did almost starve to death. But… Geez, I dunno where to even start.”

“Why’d you go in the first place?” Boots asks.

“Oh, that I didn’t lie about either. My mama really did up and leave while I was at college. I went cuz… Cuz I guess I felt like I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I saw Liz on TV say she was gatherin’ people up for her team and I just… I wanted somewhere to go that wasn’t home.”

She nods solemnly, gesturing for him to go on.

“Well, Snaktooth… Liz said she found somethin’ there. These creatures she was documenting. D’you… Have either of you ever heard of bugsnax?” Gramble nearly whispers the last word, even though it’s just the three of them out here, just the three of them and the crickets and fireflies, the kids sound asleep.

Piesha tilts her head, thoughtful. “Mm… Maybe a long time ago,” Pie says. “One of those things they got lots of fairy tales about. Critters made of food, right?”

“Right.” Gramble nods. “But they’re real. And please- I know how it sounds,” he stammers, even though neither of them looked skeptical. “But I swear. I saw them, I picked them up and held them, I had a whole barn full of them that Liz and Buddy caught for me. I had names for them, and… and everybody said they were the most delicious things they’d ever eaten. B-but there’s a reason for that. Sorry, lemme go back a bit and explain.

“When we got there, we thought we’d be able to farm. That was Wambus’s thing, but no matter what he tried, the crops would wither, or the bugsnax would get in and destroy them. The only thing he could grow was the sauce that grew on the island, and that wasn’t anywhere near enough to live on. Pretty soon we ran outta food, but that wasn’t a problem for most folks. They’d just eat the bugsnax.”

“And I’m guessin’ you didn’t?” Boots asks.

He shakes his head. “No, I didn’t want to. I already didn’t eat meat, and the snax were always so cute and friendly and I couldn’t bear the thought of hurtin’ them. So I just… didn’t. I tried to live off the sauce, and I ate dandelions and weeds, I ate damn near anything that was edible, but it was never enough.”

“That’s awful, Gram.” Boots says, her brows knitted. “Why didn’t you leave?”

“Well, I… I thought about it,” Gramble wraps his arms around himself. “Even though I didn’t have nowhere to return to, I figured it might be better than starving. But it wasn’t too long after that Lizbert up and disappeared. Her and Egg, there was an earthquake and after that they never came back to town. Some folks thought they died, others thought they ran off, but without her nobody was bringin’ in bugsnax to eat and they started to eat mine, so I ran off with the rest of ‘em and that made everybody mad and I really did start to think there was nobody who cared about me but the snax and Wiggle, and… and even she was eatin’ them too, but I let her cuz I didn’t have nobody else... I was so afraid she’d leave me too that I put up with it.”

He pauses, taking a deep breath. “So, um… I guess a couple weeks after that, Buddy finally showed up. We’d been on the island almost a year at that point. They wanted to interview Liz, figure out what happened, and they managed to get all of us back into town within a week or two. I was really doin’ poorly though.” His claws absently scratch at his belly over the scar that the rake had left, concealed beneath his fur but never fully faded.  “Didn’t care much whether I lived or died. Nothin’ I tried worked, and one of the big snax I asked Buddy for nearly killed me. And then…”

Boots holds Pie’s paw between both of hers, stroking it, both of them patiently waiting for him to gather his racing thoughts. It had been so long since he’d even thought about all this, and much of the events were a haze of hunger and pain, he was amazed he could keep the basic timeline coherent.

“Then, one night… When we were all back in town, Filbo decided he wanted to throw a party. That was when everything… That’s when it all fell apart. There was an active volcano on the island, and it erupted. Eggabell suddenly showed up back in town and told us she knew where Liz was, and she and Buddy and Filbo ran off to get her while the rest of us tried to get to safety. B-but… You remember what I said before, about the bugsnax?” He lifts his gaze to the two of them.

Pie nods at him. “Yeah. They taste good, right?”

“They also…” Gramble holds his paws out, curling his fingers into fists. “They change you. Whenever you eat one, your body parts become it. I know it sounds silly, but everybody was walkin’ around with arms and legs made of strawberries and corn and cinnamon rolls and you kinda just… got used to it. I only ever ate one when I was sleepwalkin’, and I don’t even remember what it was like, but everybody else except Shelda ate ‘em all the time. You get used to it and then you start believin’ that they’re the only thing that can make you feel good anymore. Sorta like drugs, but sorta like… Wiggle used to say they inspired her, and Chandlo thought he could get stronger with them, it was whatever you wanted. I guess even I was fallin’ for it, thinkin’ they could replace my family, and I never even had to eat ‘em.

“But that’s the trick. You get dependent, but you don’t realize that… That they’re parasites. And I’m kinda fuzzy on the details, but according to Buddy, Liz was somehow stuck down in the main… meat of the hive,” Gramble brings his paws together, looking down at his intertwined fingers. “And that’s where she’d been all along, down in the darkness with all those food bugs crawlin’ all over her and into her mouth and… that’s why she’s got such a thing about food.”

“Ah…” He can’t blame Boots for looking a little numb, covering her mouth with her paw as Pie stares blankly at him. It was a lot to take in. “Yeah, I guess that’d do it.”

Gramble goes on. “They attacked us not long after Buddy and the others left, tryin’ to force themselves into our mouths, or kill us, either or. I guess they knew the jig was up, then and there. No comin’ back from that. But we all got away, in the end… And that’s what happened.”

He falls silent. The porch swing creaks slightly as Boots lets it come to a stop, letting the singing of the insects fill the air between them for a long moment.

“S’this place still out there…?” Piesha speaks up softly, glancing out into the darkness as if the snax might be watching from the trees.

“Far as I know,” Gramble says, slipping off the chair to walk over and take one of their paws in each of his. “But you gotta promise me you will never, ever go there.” His expression is grim as he peers up at them. “And you’ll never breathe a word to any of the kids about it, or to anybody else. Nobody should ever step foot on that awful place again.”  

“Gram,” Boots squeezes his paw in return, then leans over to scoop him up and pull him into her lap, the swing groaning in complaint as yet another grumpus is piled upon it. “…there’s gotta be somethin’ we can do-”

“No.” Gramble shakes his head, desperation creeping into his voice. “I- I don’t know. Maybe there is somethin’ that someone out there can do, but it can’t be any of us. I don’t want nothin’ to do with it ever again and if word gets out, it’s just gonna be more people goin’ there and that’s exactly what it wants. Please,” he tilts his head up at her, the porch light glimmering in his eyes. “Just leave it alone. It can’t get us here and I want it to stay that way. Promise me.”

When she hesitates, he repeats himself, teeth glinting as his lips peel back. “Promise me, please-”

“I promise.” Boots leans down to kiss him on the nose, wrapping her arm around him as the other draws Pie in closer. “I won’t tell nobody if that’s what you want.”

“That’s all that I want,” he murmurs into her fluffy chest, suddenly very tired despite the mental weight that had lifted. He’d spoken Snaktooth’s name aloud, finally uncorked what he’d kept bottled up for nearly two decades now. He should feel better-prepared, now that they were all on the same page, so why did he still feel like he was only summoning the beast? Perhaps he just needed to sleep, let this new information digest, and they’d face whatever came tomorrow together.

Hundreds of miles away, the island remembers them too.

[enchantcdstories]

Jealous of a Joy Toy

Words: 2012 Tags: Mentions of sex, implied sex, language warning, unbeta’d

A/N: Here it is! My jealous johnny fic! I hope it doesn’t suck!

Summary:  Johnny makes V feeling less than pleased after a shared memory leaves V aching for more. What he didn't anticipate was V actually doing something about it..

V didn’t dream anymore. Her dreams were sometimes replaced with flashes of Johnny’s memories now. Little memories like him taking a piss in an alley, the first time he smoked as a teenager, eating food at a random restaurant with the band. V usually didn’t complain- it was a side effect of the chip. His memories overtook hers. Johnny said that he could see her memories though...she just couldn’t see her own. V was warned about this, so she couldn’t be too surprised. Still hurt like a son of a bitch though.

That night’s dream was...erotic and different. Johnny’s dream, clearly. Were they linking that closely now? When she slept she saw his dreams? Of course it was sex. V suspected it was some roadie that wanted to work her way through the band. What else did Johnny think about besides blowing up buildings? V could barely make out what was going on by the end of it, but when she woke up with a start in her bed- all her senses rippled her body like flames licking at her. She was covered in sweat and suddenly the buzzing feeling between her legs was all too noticeable and hard to ignore.

“Fuck.” V groaned, pulling herself out of her bed. She was drenched in more ways than one. V also knew for a fucking fact that that son of a bitch was feeling the same way. Fuck, she probably dreamed it to begin with cause he was horny out of his skull. “Fucking gross.” She muttered, stretching her back out. Her mind was racing a mile a minute, her heart thumping loudly in her chest. V looked at her clock, groaning at the time. 2 am.

“Fine, you wanna play like that, let's dance, pretty boy.” She said, throwing her shoes on and shoving her way out the door. V was in nothing more than sleep shorts and a crop top, but she couldn’t care less. She could see Johnny phase-out of view in the corner of her eye, a smirk on his face. Fucker thought he won, V echoed in her mind.

V was glad that Night City was warm at night, and that the sweat was dripping down the back of her neck didn’t look completely out of place. V had just rounded the corner to her car, well- Johnny’s car that is. V may jokingly hate Johnny, but damn he had a good taste in cars. Johnny, of course, was already waiting inside- feet on the dash and his arms behind his head.

“I can see most of the things in your head, but not this. What happened in your sleep that has you so bothered?” He said, his gruff voice filling V’s head.

“You tell me. You seem to be having some real fun in your little memory dream bullshit, so I’m gonna go make my own fun.” V said, turning the keys to the Porsche and listening to it roar to life. V couldn’t see the look on Johnny’s face, but she just knew it’d be priceless.

Jig Jig street wasn’t too far, but with V’s heart racing and the buzzing between her legs almost making her numb- it felt like a lifetime. When she finally skidded the car to a stop, Johnny started to panic.

“Wait wait wait, you’re gonna fuck some joy toy?” He said, appearing outside of V’s car door before she could get out. V opened the door, clearly through him without issue. His laws of physics were strange. He could push her to the ground but she couldn’t throw a can at his head without it flying through him.

“Yup.”

“I can feel what you’re feeling too, ya know, you really think some meaningless sex with someone who won’t remember you will sastify you?” V rolled her eyes, slamming the Porsche’s door shut and leaning against it. Alright, she’ll bite.

“How come you have your panties in a knot? Aren’t you Mr ‘fuck anything that moves’? Why do you care?” She said, crossing her arms. V could see some potential partners lingering around, and the buzzing feeling only lingered. Johnny sighed, pacing. He always paced when he was stressed or his brain was working too hard.

“I didn’t fuck no joytoys though. It’s not the same, gotta find someone you know at least appreciates you. Makes sure you are taken care of. Lets you finish at least.” He sounded..strained, like he was trying to drive V away from the men and women in jig-jig street.

“Oh yeah, cause I got tons of those lying around. You had like what? Adoring fans? You had endless options of fuck buddies that weren’t joytoys.” V pushed herself off the car door and towards one of the beefy looking male joy toys. V could practically feel Johnny seethe. He walked beside her, moving so he was walking backwards while facing her.

“You really think that a joytoy is gonna be able to get you off? It’s a joytoy.” Johnny said, causing V to stop and cross her arms again.

“What? And you would?” V said, her voice coming out a bit more venomous that she’d like. That made Johnny stop as well, the engram flickering just a bit more than usual. Johnny put on his signature smirk, but it did nothing to hide the red flush that was spreading on his cheeks. It was his turn to cross his arms.

“ ‘Course I would, princess. Way better than a fucking joytoy.” It was V’s turn to blush. She looked over towards where the joy toys lingered.

“Okay, but that’s just your cocky demeanor talking. Now are you gonna let me go rail a joy toy till my legs go numb, or are you gonna let me go back to bed without dreaming of fucking a poor roadie senseless?” V spat, running a hand through her hair. Johnny started pacing, running his own metal arm through his soft raven locks.

“You don’t fucking listen to me anyways, why do you fucking care? Gonna go do your own thing anyways..” His voice sounded...hurt, hesitant. V rolled her eyes, storming off in the direction of the largest looking joytoy she could find.

“Wait, Wait, V… wait!” Johnny’s hand reached out and gripped V’s arm tightly. To the outside passerby, It looked like V was fighting with herself and getting pulled back on her own accord. Typical Night City wacko shit. V knew Johnny could manipulate her body, he could push her to the ground- make her knock herself out off a window. Still, she almost had the breath knocked out of her when Johnny’s ‘ganic arm grabbed her.

“I promise you- I can do a hell of a lot better than a fucking joy toy.” His voice was deadly serious. No jokes, no sarcasm. V just looked at him, still a bit shocked that he had grabbed her which such...force. She found her voice, but it was more gravely than normal.

“What makes you say that?”

She wasn’t sure why she questioned him when she knew the answer. She knew the answer and she mentally begged him not to say it. This entire time, V knew that her answer was the same. She fucking loved him. She loved him and cherished him and knew that at some point- She’d have to say goodbye to him. Either because she died or they found a way to pry him out of her head. V also knew Johnny could see all these same thoughts.

“Because I fucking love you, alright? I love you and I’ve been inside your head long enough to know that I’d be miserable to see you with anyone else.” He said, stopping his pacing enough to get a good long look at V. She ran a hand over her face, the sudden lack of sleep and the urge to go back to her bed was hitting her like a rock to the face. “I didn’t like you at first yeah, but spending every waking second with you...something changed.” Johnny paused. “Must not feel all that great to have the thing killing you fall in love with you.”

“Fuck...I...I wanna go back to bed. I need time to think. ” She said, spinning on her boots and heading back to the car.

Her bed was still warm when she got back, thanks to Nibbles curled up next to her pillow. The cat jumped down when he saw that V was back. Instead of rubbing against her leg like he normally did, he rubbed against- and passed through- Johnny’s, who had appeared standing in the middle of her apartment. V closed her eyes, sighing a bit and leaning against the wall.

“I’m sorry for...you know, all that shit back there” V had gathered the courage to apologize to him in the car, frankly because she knew she’d be confessing the exact same thing to him. She overreacted when she had sprung out of bed and drove halfway across Night City.

“You love me too, I can see it.” Was all Johnny said, doing nothing but staring at V as she kicked her shoes off. V nodded.

“I do,” V said, lightly. She opened to mouth to speak before closing it again, gaining the courage to keep speaking.

“So all this, the sex memories, the jealousy-”

“Wasn’t jealous.”

“Whatever. All of this was just your way of saying you love me? What would you have done if I did have sex with that joytoy?” V said, walking over to her bed and sitting down onto the mattress. Johnny had moved so he was in her little living area, sitting on the edge of the couch with his hands in his jeans pocket.

“Would have asked you to take some suppressors first so I didn’t have to witness that.” He shrugged. V just looked at him briefly before looking down.

“ I..I love you too. You know that. I didn’t mean to you know… hurt you..” V asked, her voice softer and more tired. Johnny went back to pacing before taking a few strides to close the gap between the two, taking his metal arm and pushing V roughly to the bed. It was very reminiscent of when the pair first met. V was suddenly very grateful that she could physically feel Johnny's touches, though the last time wasn’t such a great time.

Johnny straddled her, kneeling over top of her with his knees on either side of her waist. Before V knew it, Johnny was planting rough and sloppy kisses on her neck. It was sudden and unexpected but fuck, V needed this. That buzzing between her legs only skyrocketed as V put her head back- giving Johnny more room to have his way. He felt strange, V could feel the pressure sitting on her hips. She could feel the sensation of someone kissing her neck- but it wasn’t the same. Something just felt off and different.

Johnny pulled up briefly from her neck to lean on his hands on either side of her head. V looked up at him, completely at his disposal now that he was straddling her. Somehow she was sweating more now.

“So have I earned the right?” Johnny asked, leaning down to nip at her neck on the other side. V’s eyebrows furrowed.

“What do you mean?”

“Your name. You said before that only people really close to you can say your name. I think I qualify for that.” He said, between breaths and kisses that trailed from V’s neck to her collar bone. V thought about that for a second, her brain foggy from the actions he was performing.

“Yeah. Yeah, you can, think being in my head alone deserves that.” V sighed, her voice sounding more pleased than normal, causing Johnny to smirk. V continued.

“So where do we go from here? Friends with benefits? A relationship? You don’t seem the type.”

“For now, Valerie, I show you how much better I am than a joy toy.”

[kumeko]

A/N: For the Hold On @tokkazine! I love how these two banter and play off each other.

…

…

…

…

Every time Sokka came to Republic City, it felt like a brand-new place. Fields turned into houses turned into buildings until he could hardly recognize the place. The way people travelled, the businesses opened, even the fashion styles changed with the blink of an eye. It was almost impossible to keep up with and there was little wonder that the rest of the world could hardly keep up with the city’s innovations.

Even the people living in the city had a hard time keeping track of it all.

Still, despite how the roads changed, Sokka never once got lost when he headed to Toph’s office at the police headquarters. His body had long memorized the route, even as the sights around him changed. Including, it seemed, the actual headquarters: the building in front of him was twice the size of the old one and fancier too. Sokka stared up at the imposing brick building, bemused.

“When did they even find the time to make this?” he muttered, feeling awkward as he stepped inside. Sometimes, he missed when the department was a small, two-room affair. Toph had only one or two assistants at the time, and her title hadn’t so much been Chief of Police as it had just been The Only Police.

Now there were a dozen people looking at him as he stood in the lobby. They were all dressed in a grey uniform that looked a little like an overcoat with armoured shoulder pads. Recognizing a few faces, he waved as he quickly trotted along the long carpet to back. Toph’s office was always the biggest room in the place, and he scanned the ids next to the offices as he passed. There were two plaques labelling each room, the second in braille, and he smiles as he finally found an open door with her name on it.

Sokka poked his head in to find Toph standing next to a table, her brow furrowed in concentration as she manipulated a metal ball. As usual, when she focused, it was like the rest of the world stopped existing.

Which meant it was the perfect time to surprise her.

Slowly, he tip-toed in, the plush carpet muffling his steps. The best thing about her office was how plain it was—the blank walls were a bright white, the furniture limited to her desk, chair, and one super comfy couch. There was nothing around for him to bump into, nothing to navigate around.

One, two—

“Hey, Snoozles!” Toph chirped, smirking as she set down the metal ball. “You got to do better than that.”

Sokka pouted, crossing his arms as he gave up the jig. “How do you always know when I’m here?”

“My radar, duh?” How Toph ever learned to roll her eyes despite being blind, he had no idea. He was half certain she’d learn it specifically to make fun of him and Aang, but he could never be certain. “Come on, you’ve known that for years.”

“Not that.” Sokka snorted, slightly insulted. “I meant, how do you know it’s me? I didn’t even say anything.”

“It’s…it’s obvious it’s you.” He wasn’t sure if it was the lights or if he was imagining it, but her cheeks looked rosy pink as she dug her fingers in her thighs. “When’d you get back?”

She was the changing the subject. He would have glowered at her, but there was no point. “Fine, keep your secrets.” Maybe it was another Earth-bending skill she was developing. Grinning, he padded over to her, wrapping arm around her back for a tight side hug. “Just now! I dropped my stuff at the temple and bam! Came to see you!”

Toph wrinkled her nose, though she didn’t step away. “You smell like it too.”

“Hey, that’s the sky bison, not me.” Discretely, he sniffed himself. It wasn’t that bad.

Then again, he’d been smelling sky bison for the past few days; maybe he wasn’t the best judge. Pulling away, he sheepishly rubbed his neck. “Maybe I should have taken that bath first.”

‘You think?” Toph chuckled. Heading over to the sofa, she picked up her grey coat. He could just make out a small badge at the front as she draped it over her arm. “Let’s get dinner.”

“Didn’t you just say I smelled bad?” Sokka frowned, confused.

“Didn’t say I couldn’t handle it, did I?” Toph raised a brow, looking more amused than annoyed. “’sides, I’ve handled criminals all day. You’re the least fishy thing I’ve handled.”

Sokka guffawed, loving the duel meaning. God, he’d missed this—there were so few people who got his sense of humour. Even fewer who could make jokes. Sometimes, he dealt with Katara for so long he forgot that not everyone else was a humourless worrywart.

Hands in his pockets, he waited outside as she closed the door. “You good to go now?”

“Yep.” Toph grinned slyly, her voice lowering to a whisper as she leaned closer. “You know what’s the best part of being blind?”

He felt a little like a giant as he bent over, lowering his head so they were at the same level. Despite getting a growth spurt over the years, Toph was still the smallest person he knew. “What?” he whispered back playfully.

“I never have to handle the paperwork.” She winked at him devilishly before humming as she headed toward the doors.

Sokka laughed again as he walked apace with her. Her poor subordinates.

As they slipped out the police station, he asked, “So why the new uniforms?”

“Blame Twinkle toes.” Toph shrugged. Fortunately, despite it being mid-September already, the weather was warm tonight. It was comfortable walking around in his usual sleeveless vest, and Toph even unbuttoned the top two buttons of her dress shirt. She scrunched her nose. “He wanted us to look the same or something. I think it’s stupid.”

“Why? Uniforms are cool.” Sokka pulled the collar of his vest and stood up a little straighter. “I happen to look very good at them.”

Toph shot him a disgusted look. “I’m sure if I could see, I’d gouge my eyes out.”

“Hey!”

“Besides, if Katara or Zuko picked them, sure, but Aang?” She stopped walking and unfolded her coat. Tugging it on, Toph rested her hands on her hips as she turned to him. “Does this look good to you? I can tell just by feeling them they’re ugly.”

“They’re…” Sokka stared at it as the slightly big coat hung loosely off her shoulders. Aang hadn’t even gotten the size right. He’d seen it on the rest of her coworkers but seeing it like this—it wasn’t great. The shoulder pads were too big. The coat was really plain and out of place. “It has…a nice badge?”

“See?” Toph shrugged out of the coat before he could say anything else. Hanging it off her arm, she continued walking. “Everyone hates them except for Aang.”

“I can talk to him,” Sokka suggested, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as they walked. “It’s not like they’re completely terrible, maybe if we…”

“If you find a solution, I’m all ears.” She kicked a pebble and it skittered across the road. “How was the trip?”

Sokka brightened immediately. It was hard not to, considering the past few weeks he’d had. If there was one thing he liked about his job as an ambassador of sorts, it was the travelling. Maybe it was their journey to save the world, but he’d gained a sense of wanderlust from it all, an inability to stay still. Grinning, he started to tick off his mini adventures. “Awesome, I got to go to the Earth Kindgom again, ate the bestdumplings, save the Lettuce-man’s stall for once—”

“He’s still in business?” Toph’s jaw dropped in surprise, an utterly rare sight that he immediately committed to memory. She moved her hands rapidly as she tried to articulate as a proper sentence. “But his cart—didn’t we burn it down once?—I thought he wanted to—he’s still in business?”

“Yes, yes, I don’t remember if we did that, yes, yes,” Sokka replied easily, not bothering to hide his amused laugh. “I guess if we’re not near him, he actually does good business.”

“You just said you saved his stall,” Toph pointed out, raising a brow. She still had a look of utter disbelief, as though he had just destroyed her worldview like they had destroyed cabbage all those years ago.

“Kinda?” Sokka admitted sheepishly, rubbing his neck. “I was kinda the reason it got in trouble in the first place.”

Toph snorted, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. “That sounds about right.”

“Hey!” he protested, shooting her an ineffective glare. Now that he was older and his voice deeper, he could actually growl properly, but she still never took him seriously. Despite her jokes and how childish she acted at times, Toph was very much an old soul, as steady as the earth itself.

“Anything else happen?” she asked, ignoring his objections as usual.

There was no point in arguing. With a sigh, he shrugged. “Lots of ambassador paperwork—”

“Which is why I never want to go.”

“—and Uncle Iroh looked fine.” Sokka frowned, processing her last sentence. “I thought you couldn’t do paperwork?”

“Nah, I won’t want to.” Toph smirked mischievously, and he felt sorrier for her assistants. “Also, Uncle Iroh?”

“Look, it’s really weird calling him just Iroh, okay?” At the memory, a shiver ran through his spine. “I don’t even call our village elders by their name, and they’re like half his age.”

Toph scoffed. “I don’t think he’s that old.”

“Well, okay, maybe, but he feels like it. I tried calling something else and then he got weird about it so we just…settled for Uncle.” Sokka sighed. “And that’s not even going into how weird it is to workwith all of these firebenders. We fought them for so long, and now I have to ride with them on Appa. Like, we all had a little adventure with Zuko, right? How am I supposed to do that with a thousand people?”

“Sounds rough, buddy,” Toph agreed, roughly mimicking Zuko’s voice as she reassuringly patted his arm.

Sokka exploded in laughter; Toph’s imitations had only gotten better with time. “You should have heard Zuko whenever I call him Emperor.” He made a strangled cry; his imitations weren’t too shabby if he said so himself. “I thought I accidentally killed him.”

Toph howled with laughter. “I’m doing that next council meeting.”

He blinked. Now that she mentioned it, she did meet with Aang and Zuko on a regular basis. She was the chief of police for a city they both had founded. Curious, he asked, “Wait, then what do you call him?”

“Sparky and Twinkletoes,” she replied bluntly, without an ounce of hesitation. “What, you think I’d actually call Aang ‘respected avatar’?”

“Even in front of the council?” Now it was his turn to gape, and he almost tripped over a pothole.

“Especially in front of the council.” Utterly unrepentant about it all, she grinned devilishly. “Man, if you could have heard their gasps…”

“I’d try it, but I think Zuko would kick me out.” Sokka laughed. It was ridiculously easy talking to Toph, even for something inane as this. A cool evening breeze wafted by as they walked down a narrow street infested with potholes, but he didn’t mind it. Hell, he didn’t even mind the smell that came from the nearby developments. They could have been walking through Zuko’s palace, the way he felt.

Humming, he squeezed her hand.

Her hand.

Sokka glanced down. They were holding hands. When had that happened? Somehow, he hadn’t noticed, and even now all he could say was how comfortable it felt. Her sly insults, her warm hand, the way she walked as though she ruled the place; every part of it felt like an integral part of him coming home.

“Sokka?” Toph asked as she stopped in front of a brightly lit restaurant.

She’d laugh. No, she’d tease him about this for the rest of his life. That he was the densest person on the planet, to realize like thisthe reason he always looked for her the second he came to the city, how he kept finding her in the corner of his eyes whenever he travelled away. But he’d always been some flavour of an idiot. Suki had told him as much when they’d started dating, and Katara never failed to mention it when he’d missed the signs of her pregnancy.

He liked Toph.

Everything felt so simple the second he’d thought the words, all the pieces falling into place. Elated, he blurted out, “Wanna go out with me?”

“Wha—?” Toph blushed, her cheeks tinged an adorable pink as she gaped at him.

Sokka stared at her for a minute before realizing that he hadn’t actually explained anything out loud. “Er, I mean, you’re—”

Toph snorted. She actually snorted at his confession, letting go of his hand as she headed into the restaurant. “We’ve been dating for months now, Snoozles. What are you talking about?”

“Yeah—” He let out a strangled cry. Sokka shouted at her retreating back, “WHAT?”

Sticking a finger in her ear, she turned to him. “We’re at a restaurant, have some manners.”

It was utterly rich, coming from her, but he couldn’t deny she had a point. Already, strangers around them were gawking at them curiously, twittering softly about the Chief of the Police and one of the Avatar’s Ambassadors. Hunching slightly, he quickly stalked after Toph. “Right.”

“Good.” Her hands were in her pockets now as she entered the small restaurant. It smelled lightly of sizzling meat and spice, a strange aroma that reminded him of that firebender town in the Earth Nation. A small shop, it only had about a dozen or so tables, most of them packed with couples or small families.

Raising her voice, she called out, “Two.”

“Two?” A middle-aged woman turned away from the table she was waiting on. Recognizing Toph, she smiled brightly. “Chief Toph! Your usual spot’s open.”

“Nice!” Toph grinned as she headed further into the restaurant, to a table just outside the kitchen doors. “We’ll have the usual.”

“You have a usual spot?” he asked, momentarily forgetting about their discussion. “And a usual?”

“I’m their number one customer,” Toph added cheekily, slipping into a seat. “I swear this place changes hands like every five months, but the food’s always good so whatever.”

“Isn’t that a bad thing?” Sokka muttered, wondering just how good a place could be if they kept getting shut down. Still, it smelled good at least, and his belly rumbled in anticipation. “The food here…”

Toph’s smile grew wider. “Recognize it? It’s some sort of Fire Nation/Earth Nation fusion thing.”

“Fusion?” Considering Republic City’s purpose, he should have expected that earlier, but still. He looked around curiously. Now that she’d mentioned it, he recognized the decorations—the stone badgermoles, the copper dragons, even the fans had different styles of decorations. “No wonder it smells familiar—it’s like that town we visited.”

She hummed her agreement. Leaning back in her chair, she clasped her hands behind her head. “If you’d come like three weeks ago, you could have had the Water/Fire one.”

“Whaaat?” Sokka slumped over, put out. “Why didn’t you tell me this? We could have eaten there the last time I came!”

“You didn’t ask.” She shrugged nonchalantly.

Grounding his teeth, he crossed his arms. “Is that also how we’re dating? Cause I didn’t ask?”

“No, that’s…” she trailed off, her cheeks tinged an adorable shade of pink. “You did ask.”

“Huh?” Sokka struggled not to shout again, using all of his willpower and self-restraint to keep his tone at a neutral level. “When?”

“Months ago.” Despite her obvious embarrassment at it all, she didn’t shy away from conversation. “You asked me to go out with you.”

“I did?” He clasped his face, his fingers digging into his cheeks as he struggled to remember. What had they been doing months ago? God, he couldn’t remember, it felt like years ago. Hazarding a guess, he replied, “I think I just meant go out? Like going out to eat or going out to do something?”

“Who tells someone let’s go out when you just want to eat?” Toph hissed, daggers in her voice. He flinched.

“If we were inside, then we had to go out to eat. Besides, we both know I’m bad with words,” Sokka hotly defended himself, willing to even throw himself under a bridge to get out of this mess.

“But that bad?” Toph growled, irate. She knitted her brow as she asked, “Then why do we keep going out for dinner?”

“Because we’re friends?” Sokka held his hands up, not sure how to explain this better. “I eat with the others too sometimes.”

“Not like you eat with me,” she argued, her fingers digging into the table. “I’ve asked and Zuko and Aang said you don’t eat with them as much as you eat with me.” When he opened his mouth, she added, “And you travel with Katara, so that doesn’t count.”

He snapped his jaw shut. “It’s not that much,” he muttered under his breath, averting his gaze.

“Twice as much,” she pointed out, raising a brow.

“Oh.” Now that she mentioned it, he had been seeing her a lot recently. “I like your company?”

“You’ve given me hairpins and random gifts,” she said flatly. “You just held my hand.”

“That’s…” Sokka couldn’t deny it. His hand clenched involuntarily, remembering how firm her grip had been, the callouses on her fingertips.

“That?” she repeated.

There really wasn’t another word for it. “You’re right. That does sound like dating.”

God, no one was going to let him live this down. Anyone could do anything, and it wouldn’t match the stupidity levels of this.

“Like I’m ever wrong,” Toph derided. She leaned back slightly away from the table as the middle-aged woman from before walked by, her arms laden with dishes.

“Here you go, your usual,” the woman chirped as she set down two plates in front of them. A curried chicken sat on a bed of rice. Despite how dark brown the curry looked, it smelled faintly of pepper. “Have fun!”

Before he could say anything, the woman gave them a wink and disappeared into the kitchen. Now that he thought about it, that happened a lot whenever they went out to eat. Sokka couldn’t even explain that away, there was no good reason for him to miss that. He really was an idiot.

Gleefully, Toph dug in. “They cook so quickly.”

“What’s this?” Sokka poked the chicken gingerly, a little suspicious. Toph had unusual tastes sometimes, though he hadn’t yet determined if she genuinely liked strange food or was just messing with him. Either way, it did smell nice, so maybe she wasn’t pulling his leg this time.

“The usual,” Toph replied, mouth full. “Trust me, you’ll like it.”

If there was one thing his journeys had taught him, it was to never question food too hard. It was meat, something he couldn’t have at Aang’s, and that was good enough for him now. Hesitantly, he swallowed a spoonful. Despite the spice, he only felt a mild heat as he chewed. More than that, he felt the Earth Kingdom’s more earthy flavours blending in with the Fire Nation’s sharp ones. It was a strange sensation. His tongue felt a little numb from it.

All in all, though, surprisingly good. He took another bite, praising, “I’d eat this all the time too.”

“Right?” Toph grinned at him cheerfully, as she shoveled yet another spoonful. She looked like a chipmunk, with her puffed up cheeks. “Told you.”

It was silly, really, how bubbly he felt just watching her smile. She looked utterly ridiculous, a police chief acting like a little kid over a meal, but there was something utterly endearing about it all. His courage swelling up, Sokka boldly grabbed her hand. “Let’s go out.”

Toph almost choked on her food. Grabbing a glass of water, she forced it down before kicking him. “We’re already going out.”

“Kinda?” He didn’t bother to refute it this time. Even he had to admit the signs didn’t look good. “But I wanted to ask you properly this time.”

She flushed lightly. “Do you now?”

“Yes.” He reached over, covered her hand in his. It felt right. It had always felt right. “Hey, Toph, I really, really like you. Want to see what happens?”

“Really, really like?” she repeated, scoffing. “What are you, five?”

Despite her words, though, her cheeks were as red as flames. He wanted to kiss her. Leaning closer, he asked, “So?”

“Do I need to answer?” she mumbled. For all her cool before, she was a mess now, unravelling with every honest word. “You think I would have pretend-dated you for months otherwise?”

Sokka laughed, almost at her lips now. “No, I guess not.”

Realizing what he was after, the blush spread to her ears and neck as she angled herself for the kiss. They ended up bumping noses and he laughed again. That was just like them. “Oops.”

“You’re so bad at this,” Toph grumbled, grabbing his collar and pulling him down for a proper kiss.

[trickstercheebs]

How about gordon comforting borrower! Benery after something scary happened? -HLVRAHigh 💖

alright here u goh! takes place a lil bit in the future of my fic :V

He was still getting used to knowing he had roommates, specially roommates he had just only found out about four months ago living with him. Since then everyday felt like he was learning a dozen or so more rules or facts about his new tiny group of...friends?

Tommy and Coomer were always more than happy to inform him about new things he was clueless about, and in return he did the same for anything they didn’t know that he did. He found out Coomer could access his computer with a level of ease he considered concerning...until he found out all Coomer liked to do was get lost in the endless holes of information that Wikipedia offered, along with some various cooking videos on youtube. Tommy would sometimes sit with him and read along on the screen, it was kinda cute watching the tiny pair sit on his wrist rest and scroll for a few hours. 

Bubby strangely would only come over to join the mini group when cooking was the subject..He seemed to only calm down when watching someone make some sort of dish...and of course when Coomer was beside him. Gordon found out after several scorching trial and errors that Coomer was a expert at getting Bubby to calm down and not set fires out of rage or stress. But he had been noticing lately even without Coomers help the mini firestorms had gone down considerably, for which he was ultimately thankful for.

Though...Gordon had taken notice that whenever he was in the kitchen, Bubby somehow always happened to be nearby to watch and sometimes give a few tips from the counter, and his few bad attempts never seemed to get too burned to warrant throwing out nowadays. Maybe sometime soon he ask Bubby officially to help him cook something for everyone.

Benry though...he was very strange to figure out at first. The others had fled being seen by him for weeks aside from him. Benry had come out the moment the so called “jig” was up and started talking with him for hours on end...And despite all that talking Gordon still had little to no idea what the tiny borrower was about. The “sweet voice” he did most of the time, while very pretty to watch float around his head, was just as strange.. He had asked Tommy from time to time to translate when he found out the other borrower seemed to know inherently what the colors translated to and would happily lend a hand in the form of some honestly cute little rhyme to make it easier to remember for them both. Eventually Gordon got the idea after a few weeks of this and started to slowly map out Benrys feelings throughout the days when the sweet voice was more present than his actual voice.

Today was one of those days, Gordon had woken up to the sounds of heavy rain and after a quick look to the weather channel saw it’d be like this most of the day with possible chances of thunderstorms. He personally liked when the heavy storms rolled through, the town really needed it after the dry spell it’s been having for the last few months or so. The resulting day was a sleepy one at best, Gordon setting up a slow cooker of his favorite soup to dig into when it was time to eat with everyone.

Until then he sat on the couch with some snacks and caught up on some shows he had been prompted into watching by his tiny group, knowing they’d all be out and about soon enough, he could already hear Coomer and Bubby on his computer. Tommy was likely with Sunny....or Sunkist as Tommy had renamed her these days.. It didn’t take long for him to feel a tiny weight settle itself on his right shoulder and a even tinyer yawn to reach his ears.

“Sup Gordo....sleepy day today? Fuckin...lofi chill rainstorms to sleep to man..”

“Mornin Benry, and yeah seems like today’s a sleepy one. Weather forecast says its gonna rain all day today.”

“Mhm...niiice, cosy bro mode today..”

“Pfft, you sound like you’re about to pass out on me Benry, didn’t you just wake up?”

“Maybe....? Not my fault big bro Gordo gotta be all fuckin warm n cosy. S’fuckin cheating..”

Gordon couldn’t help but chuckle at that last very tired sounding quip and glanced down at the borrower in question. Benry was splayed out almost like a cat on his broad shoulder sucking up his residual body heat, only to be jostled a bit by his laughter.

“C’mon dude get down from there, I don’t wanna knock you off on accident or something.”

“Mmm maybe later, comfy here just fine bro, won’t fall off I got like..excellent climber hacks trust me.”

“Alright then, but I’ll warn you when I feel like movin or something.”

“Hell yea man no worries here. Your lil buddy Benry’s got it all on lockdown.”

Gordon let out another laugh before they both settled down to watch whatever show he had picked out.

----

A few hours had passed in relative comfortable silence amidst the rain, the soft background noise making Gordon a tad bit sleepy even now when it hit. A bright flash lit up the somber gray world for a brief second, just long enough to rouse him into a bit more of a alert state when the second half came.

It sounded like a gunshot had gone off, the thunder rolling loud enough to rattle the windows with its concussive force. From his computer he could hear Bubby let out a surprised series of curses followed by what he could assume was Coomer rattling off the wikipedia article on thunderstorms. So far so good right?

He heard a soft but tinny noise sound off beside him, or rather next to his head before another crack of thunder sounded off and made the lights flicker briefly with the charge.

“Jesus hell, guess this is quite the storm huh Benry? ......Benry?”

He looked to where the sleepy borrower should of been laying...only to find him missing entirely, and instead felt something..or hopefully someone clutching the side of his neck in a surprising death grip.

“Benry..? You alright down there? You uh...kinda gripping the living hell out of my neck there dude...Something wrong?”

That same tinny noise kicked off again and Gordon could see some small orbs float up...they looked alot like..rancid beer? He sat there for a moment and let the rhyme come to him given Benry’s reaction and refusal to talk or let go of him..

“Color like rancid beer...means acute fear? Benry lil bro..are you scared right now?”

He placed a hand against the spot he felt Benry clutching at him and felt the briefest nods against his fingers. Shit if it was loud to him then it must be outright deafening for someone like Benry and the others...though it seemed like Benry was the only one being affected right now.

Gordon let out a slow sigh and tried to gently ease Benrys death grip on his neck with both hands.

“It’s all good Benry, I’m here I gotcha..c’mon dude it’s fine I won’t let anything happen to you okay?”

Slowly he felt the grip lessen until he felt the weight shift slowly into his awaiting hands. Cupping them gently he moved to bring Benry up to face him and opened his hands. Inside was a clearly frightened borrower..Gordon felt a pang of saddness seeing that expression on the usually chill borrowers face. So instead he offered a warm smile and shifted to lay down on the couch, grabbing the blanket pooled around his lap in the process.

“It’s alright man, thunderstorms scare me too sometimes, y’know? They scared the hell outta me in college for years. But I learned about it and I slowly stopped being afraid..”

“...s’loud...wish the sky would shut its fuck..”

“Yeah it’s really loud..might mean it’s right on top of us..but I think it’ll move soon..wanna know a secret on how to tell its going away?”

“...tips and tricks from...big Gordos book of hacks? ..okay.”

Gordon snorts softly and lays his head against the far armrest of the couch and gently deposits Benry on his chest before adjusting the blanket over them both, Gordon seeing the soft blue glow of Benrys little eyes staring up at him as he got settled and placed a hand behind him for bonus warmth and protection..It seemed to do the trick as those vivid blues dulled to a soft sky blue and he felt Benrey sag against his chest after a few moments.

“When you see the lightening you count a few seconds..and when the thunder hits, that’s how many miles the storm is..the longer the pause means the farther away its getting..If you want I can show you and let you know how far or close the storm is.”

“....okay, sounds fucky but big science Gordo gotta know the good science..”

Gordon waited for a moment or two for the next flash and mentally counted down the seconds until the thunder sounded out...it was only a few seconds but it was already moving out by the sounds of things..possibly down the valley like most other storms did.

He relayed the message to Benry and saw that he did perk up a bit at the news.

“If you want, you can stay in there and I’ll tell you when its moving away, alright?”

“Mhm...sounds good to me man..”

What Gordon didn’t know though was that Benry had already nearly forgotten the storm thanks to a new sound overtaking the noise itself... Gordon had unknowingly placed him over his heart, or close enough to it that Benry could hear it as he laid against the other.. Coupled with the heat radiating off the giant human and darkness he felt...safer. He knew Tommy was going to rag on him later but..he felt nice being like this with the human. He might of had a little crush on the human and relished being close to him whenever he could. He was terrified of storms, the noise hurt his ears like hell and reminded him of...not so epic times..But thankfully Gordon pushed all those thoughts away and now he was here and safe.

It was all just enough to make him wanna sleep, he was warm and certainly cosy enough. Letting out a yawn he let those fail ass thoughts drift away as he looked up at Gordons smiling face and felt his own heat up a bit..Yeah he could sleep knowing someone like that was nearby.

“Gettin sleepy already Benry?”

“...maybe, wake lil Benny bro for supper please?”

“Pffft, yeah alright, I’ll let you know when it’s time to eat..get some rest Benry”

“M’kay boss, you got it.”

Benry smiled and mouthed something else privately before letting the slow thrum of Gordons heart and heat lead him into dreamland. Gordon being the comfortable man he was..accidentally nodded off as well shortly after.

Bubby woke them both up by threatening to burn Gordons beard off a few hours later. But for once the malice was not present in his voice.

[red-riot-rat]

Wing Love

Request: I think requests are still open? If so can I request Kaminari with an s/o that has a vampire quirk? Like she consumes blood to use her quirk and also has wings?

HEY HEY! request are indeed still open babes! i love this request anon

Kaminari Denki x Vampire quirk! reader

Genre: fluff

warnings: none

AN: your boy hasnt proof read this, he is very sorry..

-

-

-

-

Ah yes, the perfect day. It wasn't windy at all, the sun was out, no clouds in sight. The birds sang, and flowers grew. God, is was so perfect.

Well, maybe the perfect day for someone who, quite frankly, wasn't a vampire.

-

You ran down the street, a cloak covering your wings from the sunlight. No one payed any mind to you, they were quite uncomfy to say the least. It was an odder sight to see you run down the street instead of flying, but on day like this where the sun felt like it was burning holes into your skin, you can't expect anything else.

Your heavy boots clacked with every step, as you ran uphill. The last person you expect to start running along side you, is your boyfriend.

Kaminari Denki.

“Hey my immortal baby!” He panted. It sounded like he’d been running for a while to try and catch up. 

Note, you're not actually immortal, maybe your boyfriend actually thinks you are or maybe it's just a little thing he's got. Why? You have no clue.

“Hey.” you greeted back, just as tired as he is. You both slowed as the hill rounded out, and he fell onto the ground.

“Aw, is my Chargebolt in need of a quick recharge?” you laughed at him as you leaned over him, hands resting on your knees. He fought to keep his breath steady as he smiled at you.

“Yes please.” he teased.

You held your hand out, and he took it with no hesitation. You pulled him close and kissed him on the lips.

You both stayed there, kissing each other in front of the school, forgetting that you were both late to class.

“HEY LOVEBIRDS!” somebody yelled. Kaminari jumped, and you looked up towards the voice.

Smiling at the voices owner, you waved.

“Hey Jirou!” you answered, ignoring the fact she called you ‘lovebirds’.

“Get up here weirdos!” she shouted.

You took the blondes hand again, and ran into the school. Your cloak flowing behind you, you looked beautiful.

Kaminari knew that, he knew you were beautiful. But for him to see it in person, amazes him every time. He's seen you almost everyday for 8 months, either through a facetime call, or in person.

But you're goddamn beautiful.

“You're so pretty!” he called out to you, as you ran down the hall. You giggled at his words, and he blushed. He loves hearing your laugh, especially if he caused it. 

“Shut up, you gotta run faster!” you replied with another laugh.

You both ran a bit more, and skidded in front of the 1A class door. Kaminari leaned on the door, and smirked at you as smoothly as he could.

“Hey babes. I  want to suck your blood..” he began. Your cringed slightly, ready for the punchline.

“And your t-” he fell to the floor with a loud thud, as the door slid open fast. 

“Don't finish that Kaminari. Ew.” Mina said in absolute pure disgust. She switched her eyes to you and smiled. 

“Deku wanted to ask you questions, and freak you out with his mumbling!” She said, with a giggle. 

You laughed, and reached out a hand to the blonde sitting on the floor. 

“Deja vu, huh?” he stated with his signature smile. 

“I swear, Denki. I love you.”

“Heh, I love you too bat babes.” With that, he took your hand again, and walked with you into class.

You sat on Bakugou's desk, since he wasn't there. If he was, he would make a point to ‘blow your ass up’, his words. Deku asked question after question about your quirk stopping every once and a while to scribble something down, or mumble to himself.

“What blood do you drink?”

“Simple. Only the blood of animals, but only predators. Mainly wolves, but the blood is extracted in a safe way.” You can promise everyone that.

“Is it weird when you drink blood?” Mina chimed in. 

You laughed, and confessed that when you were young your parents had to explain to you that not everyone drinks blood for their quirk to grow and enhance itself. You had actually freaked a kid out, when he tried your juicebox, and you casually stated it was just blood.

Deku spewed more questions, and as you answered them, the boys started to gather around. They had gotten bored, but frankly always get a kick out of Deku’s constant flow of questions.

“Can we see your teeth again?” the green haired boy stared daggers at your mouth, waiting for it to open. You smiled to show off your white fangs, and Kirishima smiled behind him.

He called you his ‘fang buddy’, as Midoriya switched his gaze from your teeth to his notebook. He drew your fangs in a nice little sketch, and didn't even give you time to compliment it before rushing back into the jig.

“What do your wings feel like?” Midoriya asked. He stared at you, and you stared at him blank faced. You opened your mouth but were soon cut off.

“Feels like leather, but softer. They feel really nice, and they’re sensitive to light too, so they wear a cloak in the sun. The edges of the wings feel very thin, and are darker than the rest of it.”

Kaminari stated. Your head spun on a swivel, and you stared at him. He was just sitting on the floor, scrolling through his phone. 

Did he not realize he was spewing knowledge, some even you didn't know about?

He continued on as more and more of the girls huddled around to hear Kaminaris odd tangent on your wings.

“The top of their wings, they reflect a red kinda in the moonlight. They get really cold at night when they're out, but it's better than them being overheated in the sun.”

This was so out of the ordinary for him, for you. Whispers circled around you, as Mina stared her phone camera on you from a distance. She planned to send this to Bakugou.

“The base of their wings are dark and match the tips of them. They start just below their shoulders, and I think they said, it's about 25 feet from one wing to the other. ”

You grew red in the face as all heads turned to you.

“You know so much about them, it's so- so manly!” Kirishima cried, as Deku frantically scribbled everything down. You stared at the blonde on the floor, as his head slowly rose, and he came to realization what had just happened.

He didn't mean to let all that info slip, not that it was a bad thing. But he had spent so many hours with you, training, helping your sore wings, he just could tell someone the details of your wings from his brain like he was reciting poetry.

“Okay wait hold up… Mina don't send that to ANYONE yet.” He said as he turned to you, redder than you if that was possible.

“You know all that off the top of your head?” you questioned, taken back. He smiled sheepishly, and apologized.

“I didn't mean to let that slip, I'm sorry, I didn't even realize I was doing it!”

You stared at him in awe, and slowly began to smile from ear to ear.

“You're apologizing? And for what? That was adorable! I didn't know you knew that much about me, my wings especially!” 

He rubbed the back of his neck and once again tried to be smooth, “What can I say my vampire babe? I would love to see those wings of yours-”

“Once again Kaminari, NO.” Mina stared at him.

“And that's on what?” she shouted.

“Periodt!” a few others from the back of the class shouted.

You laughed at him, and took his hand as you pulled him closer.

“I love you, and your few braincells that like to focus on my wings charger boy.” you smiled at him, as he grinned red like a tomato.

“My three braincells work only for you babes!”

-

AN: kid has no idea if this is good or not... spare me

[wordlessbabbling]

The Anya-Margaret (Thomas Shelby) - Chapter 4

“I’ll kick my legs in fit of fear, and know not north from south or my arse from my mouth just as I roll about in the deep water.”

Masterlist

The now worryingly intelligent girl sat crosslegged in the grass with the latest edition of ‘Pudd’nhead Wilson’. She stole the book from her mothers bedside and was now reading it in the cold morning sun while her bum got wet from the dewy grass.

Her hair no longer fell in front of her face or itched her shoulders. Now it sat jagged and pinned back by the nanny who desperately tried to fix the choppy mane.

——

Six months had passed since that night at the train station and since then, Florence made an agreement with the Shelby’s and dealt with their corpses.

It was safe to say that everyone was pleased with the arrangement.

Thomas and Florence never really conversed much, aside from when Thomas needed to fling a body into her cold room. Though their chats were cold and kurt, they appeared to be able to at least stand each other for the sake of business.

——

1

“Orright, Mr Shelby, let’s see what you’ve gifted me today.” Florence rubbed her hands together in her regular slouched posture. She had a cigarette in between her lips and by the state of the floor, she’d had seven already that morning.

Thomas entered with two other men who heaved a pale woman on the table.

The woman had reached full rigor mortis so it had been dead for a while. This was going to be a juicy one.

“Tell me about ‘er. ‘Ow’d she die?” Florence poked at the face and peeled open the eyes to get a good look.

The other men shuffled out, seemingly disturbed by the body.

“Her name’s-“

“I don’t care about ‘er name. Gimme ‘er death admission.”

Thomas sighed and lit a cigarette, it was going to be a long day. “I don’t know how she died. She was actually just dropped at our door. No note, no clear signs of threat or who dropped her there.” He rested against the stone wall on the opposite side of the room and tried not to watch as Florence stuck her WHOLE HAND down the lady’s THROAT.

Charming.

Thomas instinctively swallowed and blinked away the nausea.

“Oh now that’s a good fucking story. Are you sure she didn’t just ‘ave wee too many drinks?” Florence crooked her arm and plunged her other one underneath her elbow as her hand tried to find equipment on the table.

“Mind handing me those pluckers?”

Thomas only raised a brow she didn’t see and continued to lean against the wall.

Florence sighed and rolled her eyes, “puh-lease, can you hand me those them there pluckers?”

Thomas, being the stubborn bastard that he was, didn’t move an inch.

“I’ll give you her silver tooth, eh? Is that good?” Florence dipped her head. “Would you like that?”

Thomas straightened up and approached the high table cautiously.

For being such a hardened man, he did not do well with the kind of work this woman did.

He took the ‘pluckers’, which he was fairly sure weren’t called pluckers, and tried to just hold them by the ends, afraid he’ll catch something if he gets caught in the snippy parts.

“Oh just give them here, you ninny.” She shook her open palm and Thomas quickly and silently placed the instrument into her hands but surprisingly didn’t move at all.

He leaned over slightly and tried to watch through the flurry of arms and worrying creaking sounds.

He didn’t actually see anything inside the mouth, but what he did see was that the neck and chin was kind of turning a blueish, greenish colour.

Thomas’ throat made an inhumane noise as he tried to grab onto the table, but in the process, one of his hands actually clutched the dead woman’s feet and he let out a strange ‘yelp’.

Florence didn’t make a comment but she did pause for a second to furrow her brows and truly reconsider where this man stood in the Birmingham hierarchy.

She dove back into the woman’s mouth and dislodged the silver tooth from her gums with a sickening squelch.

“Hand.” She demanded.

Thomas, considering what he was going to get out of this, held his hand out to the waiting woman. She carefully placed the silver tooth with blood on it, into his hand, making him recoil slightly.

Florence then jammed her ‘pluckers” back into the woman’s mouth, but this time it was a gold tooth.

She held it up to the light and nodded when she was satisfied.

She looked over to Thomas who stood there with a highly unamused look on his face. “Well off you pop then. Unless you want to sit here and watch me bleed her, then I don’t know what you want.

He pocketed the tooth without another word and went on his way.

——

2

“Hello there, Beastie!” Florence cheered as the door to her cold room opened. In stepped the usual attendees as they dumped the body on to her table.

Thomas had gotten used to seeing the hunched woman with a cigarette in her mouth, but for some reason or another, she didn’t today. Instead she looked out of it, like she was high or dying, Thomas didn’t know.

She did her usual routine of scanning the figure; checking inside their mouths; cutting their clothes to prepare for the medical procedures.

Thomas never knew why he stayed around for a while, the whole ordeal was sickening and the woman wasn’t exactly fun to be around.

She sighed when she found nothing, instead she took the wrist of the corpse and waved it about. “Cooey!” She played around with the limbs, using them to wave at Thomas who stood unamused in the corner.

She heaved the body into sitting position and made it do a little jig. Thomas always thought the woman to be clinically insane, but this really drove the point home.

“You’re a sick fuck, you know that right?” He lit a cigarette and stared on at the woman who was having a bit too much fun.

She dropped the limbs so they fell heavily on the table again, resting her hands on her hips, “and you’re a killer. We all have our quirks. Isn’t that right beastie?” She turned to face the body again, but this time she actually got to work. This was Thomas’ cue to leave.

——

3

“Hello Beastie!” Florence chimed, cigarette already between her lips, along with the cloud that always loomed across the ceiling.

Thomas shuffled into the room with a body behind him, a regular sight by now.

As the men plonked the body on the table Thomas scurried to the edge of the room to lean in his dibbed spot.

This time though, instead of a cold wall that sent shivers down his neck, there was a chair. It was small and breakable with no real speciality to it. But it was a chair.

It made him pause for a moment. It was a chair. It wasn’t there last time. Why now?

He didn’t say anything though. He just sat down and lit his cigarette.

Florence wondered why the man stuck around for as long as he did. Unless all he was waiting for was the potential gold tooth or earrings, he really had no reason to stay.

She understood the absorbing life of being a leader like Thomas. Florence figured that maybe, despite the vile climate, the mortuary was almost like a getaway for him. The chance to have a smoke and just deflate.

Florence sat against the table legs, also looking tired and deflated.

She held a cigarette between her index and middle finger with her knees up to her chest, the crook of her elbow on her knee.

Thomas watched her for a moment, both of them unmoving.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost?” Thomas piped up quietly.

Florence jerked her head back from her stare at the floor, hitting the table leg with a thud, but it didn’t seem like she minded.

“Heh, sounds about right.”

The silence resumed, Florence didn’t even start to move to examine the body, only sitting on the floor, cigarette in hand.

“Does anyone live here with you?” Thomas inspected.

“What? No, no one but me and me buddies.” She flung her hand up onto the table, and patted the dead mans hand, as if it were a loving partner.

“You seem awfully dedicated to your work?”

Florence was silent for a moment, “‘ow you mean, Shelby?”

“Well you seem to only ever leave this house once a week and even then, it seems like there’s no activity in the house.” He observed.

Florence pushed the cigarette end into the floor and got up, stamping on the fuse. “Is that why I’ve seen your men outside me ‘ouse?”

She strutted out of the room, and Thomas didn’t move from his spot, only staring at the crushed cigarette on the floor.

Before he could reply though, Florence huddled back in with her signature waddle of sorts. She had a bottle of rum and two glasses. She sat back down again, leaning against the table leg with the remains of the cigarette still next to her.

She placed the two glasses on the floor loudly, taking the cork off of the bottle with her teeth and lazily pouring the contents into the two glasses.

She leaned back against the table leg again and sighed when she drank the liquor.

Thomas watched the other glass and assumed that was his. He crouched down to the floor and scooted over to the glass and where Florence sat. Instead of going back to his chair though, he sat his arse onto the cold stone floor with her.

She only crooked an eyebrow but didn’t say anything more.

“So what about you’re family? What about them?” Thomas leaned forward.

Florence stared at him blankly, only chugging the rest of her glass then proceeding to bite the cork off of the rum bottle again, then spitting it out an impressive distance.

“I’m gonna need to be a lot more drunk for this conversation.” She took a large swig and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I would question you why you’re asking me these questions, but you’re probably just gonna give me some bullshit answer anyway.”

Thomas shrugged and didn’t say anything, only watching her switch from cigarette to rum with splendid rhythm.

She topped up his glass one final time before she took one last big gulp and downed the rest of the bottle. She peered through the bottle head as if there was a flaw in the design like there was a hole in the bottom.

She sat for a moment before she coughed out “what was your question again?” She rubbed her eyes.

“What about you’re family, I don’t think they live round here do they?”

Florence belched loudly before answering, “dead. All dead. But ‘‘tis life, no?”

“So no friends or family? Surely you must’ve had someone?” He inquired more and more.

“Questions like that can get you killed where I’m from, love.”

“And where are you from?”

Florence got very close to his face. He could smell the stench of rum and cigarettes on her breath. “I’m from a place where the ocean does not apologise for its depth, nor the mountains make excuses for the space they fill. I went there, I went there to learn from them. You. You with your small mindedness arrogance could not fathom those hills nor those lakes.”

She leaned back again, reaching for another cigarette to get her through the conversation.

“Besides. I’ve got the dead. They don’t speak too loud or ask for presents on their birthdays.” she shrugged.

“Do you usually drink like this?” Thomas gestured with his free hand to the everything in the room.

“Yeah, just you came in early today. I’m not about to let that stop me from my day drinking.” She took a drag from her cigarette, “if I’m not drunk by noon then the day’s wasted.”

“Have I ever talked to you sober then?” Thomas recounted all their meetings in his head.

“Nope. You wouldn’t like me sober, anyway.” She grinned. “When you’re sober, you start to notice just how depressing all this really is.”

“Your job or just life in general?” Thomas chuckled humourlessly.

Florence cleared her throat, “I’m sure you already know the answer to that question, Beastie.”

——

4

Thomas entered the private mortuary, the air was more smoky and thick than usual, which wasn’t worrying, more just confusing.

He stepped into the cold room and made space for the men to put the body on the table.

“Miss. Kent?” Thomas called.

“In here, Beastie.” He heard her voice from behind a door he never really noticed before, it just matched the body cabinets.

He opened the cold door and a gust of hot wind blew in his face.

“Welcome to the cremation zone. Keep your arms and legs to yourself, lest you want me to confuse your limbs for someone else’s.”

Thomas peered at the giant stone furnace that stood proud and tall in the middle of the room with a roaring fire inside its walls.

It had four pillars around the edge, disconnecting the slab to the chimney.

He looked through to the other side of the room through the stone pillars and saw Florence staring intently at the fire.

“Mind the-“ Florence started, but Thomas had already tripped over the arm of a carcass on the floor.

“Why the FUCK do you just leave bodies on the floor? Isn’t there regulations for that shit?” Thomas nearly screeched.

“Yeah, but I seriously can’t be arsed to read them. I did my school years, what’re they gonna do, take away my other non-existent medical license? I don’t think so, Beastie.”

Thomas came round to her side and followed her stare into the fire, finding the way it licked the air to be mesmerising.

“Beastie? Who’s Beastie? Why’d you keep saying that?” Thomas stuffed his hands into his pockets.

“You, you ninny. I thought it was rather fitting, really.” Florence quipped.

Thomas only nodded and shifted his gaze to the body still on the floor, “you gonna put them in or do you just have the room for the view?”

“Oh yes! I forgot!” She scurried around and heaved the legs up the best she could.

The carcass, though dead, was quite a large carcass. “Mind helping me here, Beastie?”

Thomas swallowed his bile and took the figure in his arms to heave up onto the stone slab. Florence then rolled the body into the fire. The body didn’t land in a flattering position as it turned face down in the flames.

“They’re very needy the dead.” Florence mumbled, “and they rarely give back—unless you’re delusional or religious.”

Thomas, for the first time in the company with Florence, actually laughed. It was broad and loud and even made Florence chuckle a bit.

——

Thanks for the love.

Feedback and comments are wanted.

See ya next time!

[mwolf0epsilon]

Story on Norman catching Sammy in Joey cult ?

It's been twice now that I've written Norman's demise. Y'all really like killing people uh?

Summary: Sammy was weird in many ways, but this? This was just crazy.

---

     Back when Norman was still a little tot, his great nanna used to tell him and his brothers and sisters about their great poppop. How he'd been raised in some sort of cult that indoctrinated its disciples from birth. She related to them how, even though he'd managed to escape them, their constant drilling of ideals had never truly left him. Which was why nanna had gotten rid of him. Love him as she did, she knew he was a crazy dangerous man. Little five year old Norman had been very curious about those tales his mama begged nanna not to tell them. He especially found it curious when she described his eyes. Having a condition like the one he had, had made him a prime target for neighbourhood bullies that called him "Crazy-Eye". So hearing about someone who had actual insanity behind what most considered to be the windows to the soul... It had given him a sort of relief, because at least there was a spark of life behind his own unsynchronized peepers.   "N'aw child, don't yous go be tellin' ya mama 'bout what ol' nanna be tellin' you 'bout ya poppop, ya hear?"   "Ok nanna. Won't tell a soul."   "Yous is a clever one, boy. An' don't forget ta keep an eye out... Crazy can hide in plain sight. Sure did for poppop." Insanity could hide in plain sight. That was perhaps the most valuable lesson to take from his nanna's tales. What she could never get across was how hard it was to see someone you cared for slowly be afflicted with it.

     Sammy was a weird man. Had been from day one of Norman meeting him, and never quite changed even when he put a reign on his deplorable attitude. He wasn't a bad person per say. Misguided by a parent with that typical southern brand of white superiority complex. A man who thought his skin color made him better than all the other folk, and who taught his boy to think it was just as sacred an idea as the damn gospel he also tried to drill into Sammy's head. But Sammy was admittedly clever, and much more curious than his father had been. He asked questions and he tried to change when he realized his own crappy behaviour didn't please him all that much. But then things started getting unsettling in the studio. Little things popped up, and the world's own agenda got in the way of Joey Drew's plans. Turns out Joey wasn't about to fold for anything or anyone. Those who were drafted were the lucky ones. Those who were socially outcasts or liabilities in the military's eyes, were not so lucky. They stayed, so the wrongness affected them. The wrongness... Norman had felt something was not right for a long while, but now that he had to get acquainted with so many new hires and the such? He'd been preoccupied. So when the ones he knew suddenly started acting unlike themselves he'd been caught by surprise.   "I don't understand how Mr. Drew has no trouble with him... He's just so..." He'd found Buddy in the bathroom, trying to clean the obvious ink stains on his clothing. "Why did I think helping him would make him less nasty?"   "Sammy tends ta blow up at minor things. If it was as bad as yous say it was, then he was just freaked out from nearly drowning." He got as many paper towels as he could to help the poor kid get rid of as much of the ink as he could.   "Doesn't excuse what he says to me... Or the other Jewish employees..." Buddy murmured sadly.   "What did he say?"   "Not important... Just makes me uneasy. It's like I'm specifically not worth anything just because of my... Mr. Polk?" Buddy blinked once the projectionist dropped everything he was doing to stalk out the door.   "Yous ain't the first he's gone and played that card on. Was a long while ago but I can refresh Sammy's memory for the folks he's been barkin' at."   "Oh! Uh, you don't have to! It's not going to fix anything."   "Trust me, a hard knock on the noggin' works just fine ta sorte Sammy's bullshit." Norman smiled in passing at Dot who paused to watch him and then look at Buddy in concern once he peered out the bathroom door. "You two kids run along now. I'll see yous around." He tried not to laugh when he heard Buddy fretting over potentially getting fired for starting a fight. Kid still had a lot to learn about how Joey Drew Studios ran for all these years. Sometimes tough love was all it needed. But not this time.

     His nanna's tales rushed back to him when he'd cornered Sammy in his office. Norman didn't like roughing people up, but he'd promised the music director that if he stepped on any toes for the wrong reasons he'd give him a whooping like the one the blond had been begging for, back when he'd first harassed the projectionist. He had half a mind to start hollering until he'd caught sight of Sammy's eyes. Nanna had described insanity in great detail. The unfeeling and unfocused darkness in poppop's eyes that consumed the man she'd loved and left nothing behind. Sammy's eyes were a soft hazel, the nice flicker of green so full of the essence that made Sammy Lawrence who he was. What Norman saw instead of those pretty peepers were dark pools, a sickly grayish brown with flecks of blackness like tar. Like ink... Norman completely forgot what he was to say. He couldn't bring himself to talk when he saw the same thing that had tormented his nanna's dreams. It just wasn't right.

-

     Joey Drew was up to something, and Sammy was involved somehow. By his own volition, Norman wasn't too sure. The kid was acting mighty strange since Norman had noticed his eyes had inexplicably changed color, and whatever progress for positive change he'd made was completely gone. If anything, Sammy had become an incredibly volatile and aggressive husk. Very few people noticed, which was what was so concerning.   "It can't be a coincidence... Joey barely showin' his face 'round the departments and Sammy actin' up like the devil bit him in the ass..." He'd paced as he watched Jack drink what was likely the 5th cup of coffee he'd in the morning.   "Whatever it is, Sammy's more enthusiastic about his songs for a change..." He sounded nonchalant about it. "He complained about all the pieces Drew forced him to change... Now he's less, angry about those. Seems to love them actually."   "Those little annoying jigs? He said they was garbage!"   "And they are. Putting lyrics to those was dang awful but... Well if he's happy, I'm happy..." Jack gave a weak smile before coughing a rather wet sounding cough. He took another sip of his coffee to sooth his throat.   "You comin' down with somethin'?"   "Must be... This gross cough has been popping up a lot. And my nose is awfully stuffy. Can't smell or taste nothing, which is good considering I gotta hide away in the sewers to work..." Norman huffs. People were getting sick from being forced to do overtime with no rest. Jack getting sick wasn't entirely out of the question. But the stench of something acrid coming from his mug did give him cause for concern. Best check to see if Wally hadn't accidentally stored the coffee beans with the cleaning supplies again. A week later he forgets about it once he instead finds himself making a list of the people he stops seeing around the Studio not long after he noticed something up with Joey and Sammy.

     There's Jack, who he hadn't noticed gone at first until he'd gone poking around the sewers and not caught sight of the shorter lyricist. There was Johnny Brokehart, who's organ was completely abandoned in its little corner. No one dared touch it, in case the man returned and found so much as a pipe out of place. There was Julian Whitaker, the tall gangly cellist that often sat with the resident art critic, that Vernon fellow who liked to stare at the cartoon posters like they were masterpieces on display at a museum. Susie Campbell had gone too. Wally insisted she hadn't quit, and was awfully worried about her. Allison and Thomas had also up and split after they'd made a scene at one of them fancy parties Joey used to get investors to dump money into his lap. Shawn Flynn, Grant Cohen, Bertrum Piedmont, Lacie Benton, Emma LaMonte... People were vanishing left and right and there was no say of them being fired. Norman had a theory, and he didn't like it one bit. He tried to do his best to inform the younger hires to run before something inevitably happened to them. He told Buddy and Dot it was dangerous, in as little words he could so not to let Joey catch wind of what he did know. He prayed to whatever god was out there that no bad befell those two kids. And then he'd grabbed his light and went down, where the groaning and moaning came from.

-

     Norman ran. Ran as fast as he could, trying not to look at the things trapped in those tubes. The creatures that were tall, gangly, and vaguely humanoid. Weeping faces pressed to the glass, begging to be let out. The disgusting sludge creatures, barely holding themselves together and clawing at the glass in obvious suffering. The thing that had Sammy's voice and that was rushing after him, axe in hand and Bendy mask covering its face. Screaming at him to accept the "Lord's" blessing. He ran and dodged strikes that nicked his elbows, his legs, grazed his ankle and back... He came to a full stop before what could only be described as a throne. Horrified to find something twisted that looked like a humanoid corpse-like Bendy bound in chains. And then he was knocked onto the floor, air escaping his lungs from the sudden collision. The Sammy thing was on top of him, overjoyed to have caught him. And then all around, Joey Drew's voice filled the room... The thing on the throne shook and hissed.   "Excellent... You know what to do Prophet. Baptize this non-believer in the name of your lord."   "Anything for you my lord. Anything!" Norman tried to fight him off, knocked that silly mask off his face even. Except there was no face. Not even eyes. Windows to the soul... If he had none, then did Sammy even have a soul anymore? The axe raised, and Norman Polk didn't even have time to scream before it plunged into his chest, destroyed his ribcage, and obliterated his heart.

[negans-wifeyy]

Shake Hands with the Devil pt.1

Summary: Laila was hungry for revenge ever since the death of her sister. The only way to fight the monster who killed her is to confront him in his natural habitat: the Sanctuary. As she infiltrates the kingdom of the leader of the Saviors in the hopes to kill him, things will not go the way she thoroughly planned. What will she do now that Negan has gotten her in the palm of his hand?

Pairing: Negan X OFC

Warning: None for now but eventual smut

Tags: revenge, hate, possession

Word count: 2361

A/N: Hi everyone! This is the first fiction that I ever post anywhere, and I chose Negan as the male protagonist because I’m literally obsessed with his character. I also chose a black protagonist because I couldn’t find ANY good fics pairing Negan with even a person of color on Tumblr, fanfiction.net or even Ao3. Since there wasn’t anything I could identify myself with, I decided to write my own thing. Hope y’all enjoy. PS: English is neither my first or second language so please be patient and correct me if there are mistakes or it’s not coherent. Also, the text in italics is in the past and time-lapse are separated by asterisks.

A/N 2: This is a repost from the @thoughtsandthotsss​ blog. I wanted this fiction and other content to be on a blog focused solely on TWD. So there you have it again and make sure to like and follow again :) 

———–

For the past weeks, I’ve been doing everything possible that was asked of me to do in the Sanctuary. Attending to my duties, keeping my head down, staying away from trouble and most importantly, avoiding the leading man of the Saviors. But here I was now, sitting face to face with him in his “office” and waiting for my faith.

“Well, well, well” Negan started as he stood up from his seat. “Here we are again, Laila. Just you and me. Last time we were here together, you infiltrated my kingdom, killed a dozen of my best soldiers and then, came to this very room with a gun pointed at the back of my head to avenge your sister’s death.”

I avoided his gaze and stayed silenced. Just being in his presence made me sick to my stomach. Unlike everyone around here, I didn’t fear the man with the barbed-wire bat. Whatever reason he called me in here for, good or bad, he could just get to the point, so I didn’t have to converse with him any longer than I wanted to.

“So, you’re just gonna stay quiet? I remember you being pretty chatty the first time we spoke.” He snickered. “Don’t you wanna know why I called you in here?”

“Not really. Whatever sick, twisted mind game you feel like playing today, I don’t think it’s going to require me to respond back to you.” I finally broke my silence.

“Still quick-witted huh? With your track record, I wouldn’t be so mouthy with me. I mean, I did spare your life and let you become one of my hit women. My most reliable one too.” He responded as he got to the seat closer to me.

“I don’t know how grateful I can be after everything that you’ve done” I caught my breath remembering the terror he caused this past year to me and my entourage. “You kept Sasha captive, you used her life to blackmail the Alexandrians and you led her to kill herself. Oh, and let’s not forget you terrorizing and murdering the members of my community. “

“I thought that we buried the hatchet on your sister’s passing sweetheart. And also, on the deaths of your Alexandria buddies.”

“You mean like Glenn and Abraham? They are not my ‘Alexandrian buddies’ they were my family. And no, I still haven’t let that go since I can’t give anyone of them proper justice.” I said angrily to Negan who just stared at me grinning.

“Don’t really remember the two others but I do miss that strong-headed Sasha from time to time” He said which made my blood boil even more. “Could have used her warrior skills here. Good thing you’re here the replace her memory.”

“Leave her name out of her mouth.” I fired at him. His words were really getting to me.

Talking about my big sister again was making me so emotional but I didn’t want Negan to see me vulnerable, so I held back my tears and stare right back into his sneering eyes. I needed to be as fearless and strong as the day I was going to kill him. Even if it was weeks ago and I clearly failed my mission, I still remember that day like it was yesterday.

**

Negan was wandering by himself in his office where he holds up his meeting with some of the Saviors and probably torture some others. I peaked through the crack of the door and as soon as his back was turned, I sneaked in with my AK-47 directing at his head and locked the door shut.

“Don’t you move now motherfucker” I spat at him as he raised both his hands up to surrender. Even in that position, I could still sense the smirk from that bastard.

“Can I at least turn around to see the face of my perpetrator?” Negan eventually said. “I wanna match the face to the sweet voice I’m hearing”

“Empty your pocket first ” I ordered.

“Bossy. Just how I like em” He said as he threw on the floor all his weapons.

“Don’t be smart with me. I’m gonna search you now and I better find nothing” I patted him down to his ankles in all the usual hiding spots and found a pocket knife that I threw with the rest of his armoury.

"I usually don’t need to use this one. Forgot I had it on me. Sorry sweetheart”

“Don’t give a shit. Turn around and stop calling me sweetheart.”

As soon as he saw me, he immediately recognized who I was. And that infamous grin of his slowly faded away.

“Remember me?” I asked, my voice getting angrier from seeing his face so up-close. “The name’s Laila. Not sweetheart or whatever pet name you tryna call me”

“Ok. Laila, it is then. I do remember you; you’re Sasha’s sister. I think it’s pretty obvious now why you’re here.”

“Yes, I am. I’m going to fucking kill you. For Sasha and every single person that I cherished that you killed over your ego power trip. You fucking psychopath. “ I snapped at him. His smirky little face might have gone away but he still was unfazed about whatever I was saying to him.

"Darling, if you want to end me for some sort of revenge, you’re gonna have to take a number” He said back mischievously.

“Don’t call me darling either!” I barked at him as I charged my rifle at him.

“Wooah woah Laila!” Negan shouted finally shaking in his boots "Even though I know you’re very much capable of doing it, you don’t really wanna kill me”

“What makes you think that? I want your head on a stick more than anything”

“Well, with the massacre that you already caused downstairs, adding me to the list would make you an even more disgusting person that I am”

“You and I are not the fucking same. You knew about the damage I literally just did to your people inside the Sanctuary and chose to stay in your own little space, turning a blind eye. How can call yourself a leader after that?” I said to him even more furious than ever.

“Maybe it was all part of my plan” Negan confidently said with a malicious smile.

“What pla—” I didn’t have time to finish when a sharp object hit the back of my head.

As I fell on the floor, the two last things I saw in between two blinks were Dwight behind me with a gun in his hand and a walkie under the table that was open during this entire encounter. After that, everything was blank.

I woke up possibly hours later tied up to a chair in a small dark room. The daylight coming from the small window brightened the room which meant that I was unconscious all night. In the corner to my right, Simon was standing there waiting for me to wake up. I immediately started squirming and moaning in pain when I saw him calling Negan with a radio. I tried to scream for help but the clothe wrapped around my mouth prevented me from it. It wouldn’t have amounted to anything anyway since Negan’s tall figure entered the room as I was struggling to loosen my restraints.

“Morning sunshine!” Negan exclaimed as he approached me doing his signature “leaning back” jig with Lucille tightly gripped in his hand. “As much as I love the sound of your voice with your mouth gagged right now, I’m really curious to know what you’ve got to say for yourself after the shitstorm you caused yesterday.”

He gestured to Simon to leave us alone and took off the cloth to let me speak.

“Fuck you, you prick.” I said to him without even a flinch. He could bound me all he wants but he wasn’t going to take my dignity, and I could see that it was getting him mad. Negan took his precious bat to lift it up underneath my chin.

“It’s not a habit of mine to put my hands on a woman but if you keep disrespecting me like that, I’ll make an exception. Got it? “He threatened me with the most dominating expression I’ve ever seen. Knowing what he could do, I just nodded.

“Now here’s what’s gonna happen. I’ve seen some of your work on the guards that you executed on your way to kill me and I gotta say, I’m very impressed. I don’t usually do this type of thing with perpetrators who try to gun me down but for you sweetie, I’ll bend the rules. From now on, I want you to be a part of this community as one of my hitmen or should I say hit-woman.”

“So, you want me to kill other people for you, even though I tried to kill you? Thanks, but no thanks ”

“Well, I don’t think you really have a choice sweetheart. It’s either you work for me or I feed you to the walkers that we keep in a cage at the back of the Sanctuary”

As he said that, he pushed Lucille harder into my chin. I definitely felt more threatened and trapped. With my hands tied, both physically and figuratively, I had to accept his offer. 

“Fine. I’ll do it”. I finally said feeling like I fell right into the trap of the big bad wolf.

“Good. Here are the conditions: You’re going to work solely into protecting the Saviours which means no going behind my back to help the Alexandrians or to try to kill me again. If you don’t respect this, I won’t be afraid to use my Lucille here. Are we clear?”

“Yes..“ I surrounded. As soon as I did, he let go of Lucille off my chin.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Negan said a leaned closer to me and put his hands on the handles of my chair. “Whatever pet name I feel like calling you, you’re gonna have to accept it. It’s my kingdom after all and if you’re gonna be part of it, you’ll live by my own rules. Got it, sweetheart?”

I just nodded back and at that point, I didn’t know if I was more disgusted by his cruel behaviour or by myself for being a sellout.

**

And just like that, I became one of Negan’s executioner. Although, from my perspective, I became one of the killing monsters who did Negan’s dirty job for him. Any enemy, walker or human, who is a menace to the Sanctuary gets a bullet right in the skull from me whether I like it or not.

The first week was the hardest. I was so miserable being stuck in this place. It wasn’t because I failed my initial mission or even because I was away from my group with no news from them. It was just the daily apprehension of possibly having to gun down Alexandrians who could try to sneak into the Sanctuary like I did. With me going missing and Rick’s thirst for vengeance as strong as mine, it was very likely to happen. Fortunately, another Saviour told me that the day after my infiltration, Negan paid a visit to Rick and the members of Alexandria to tell them that I was now part of the Sanctuary. He also warned them that if any of them tried to come to my rescue, they would risk their life and mine.

It might not have come from the heart, but I still feel like that threat was a gesture from Negan to ease their minds and mine. So that I could accommodate myself better to the situation, I guess. And after that, I didn’t hear from Negan until today.

**

“Alright now, I won’t speak of her again, especially since she’s not the reason I wanted to meet you today.” Negan said after our back and forth about Sasha. I didn’t understand why he would talk about her knowing how it would make me feel. God, what an asshole he could be.

“What is it then?” I asked him indifferent about whatever he was going to respond.

“Usually, when I meet Saviours in this very room, it’s generally to punish them after they did something wrong, to betray me perhaps.” He said with a deadpan look in his face. At first, I didn’t care about the reason he wanted to meet me but, with those stern eyes staring right back at me, I couldn’t help but gulp. As soon as he saw me sweat a bit, Negan chuckled lightly to himself. “Don’t worry honey, it’s not your case, you can relax”

This motherfucker. He couldn’t help himself but to toy with me a little for his own sadistic pleasure I can only assume.

“You have nothing to worry about precious. Your situation is quite the opposite actually. All I’ve been hearing from everyone around here is how great you’ve been doing. And honestly, their opinions don’t really matter since I’ve been keeping an eye on you daily” Negan surprisingly said.

“Like spying on me?” I asked quite unsettled.

“Not spying on, just keeping an eye like I said.” He corrected. “It’s not like you’ve been doing anything shady babe. I observed you from afar and all I saw was a great warrior protecting her community.”

“You mean forced into protecting it? The Sanctuary is not my community.” I told him very truthfully.

“Whether it was intentional or not, I saw how well you fought and I wanted you to know how pleased I am to see that. Which brings me directly to the point of this meeting”

“I thought we were never gonna get there. Why did you call me here?”

"Hush sweetheart. I’ll tell you eventually, but I need you to keep an open mind”

“Ok..”

“I wanted to promote into a position that will give you the best accommodations you can get in the Sanctuary while still being my main hit-woman”

“What position is that?

“I want you to become one of my wives”

[pomegranate-belle]

prompt if you wanna: someone starts hitting on foggy, go matt gets into a Mode™ and warns the person off, but they double down and start hitting on him harder just to spite our resident sadboy

I’m not sure if this is exaaaactly what you were looking for, but your prompt reminded me of the loose idea I had for introducing Elektra into the Gwenverse; that is, as Foggy’s college ex instead of Matt’s. And then when I was writing, this exploded into like 3000 words and became very upsetting, so I’m sorry.

—

Elektra Natchios made the hair on the back of Matt’s neck stand on end. He wasn’t scared of her — he wasn’t scared of anything — but he knew instinctively that she was more than the mean-spirited little debutante she pretended to be. Beneath her flowery, expensive perfumes, she smelled like blood and steel. Which made it all the more baffling and all the more irritating that she latched on to Foggy immediately after meeting him.

Thankfully, she made the mistake of calling him ‘Franklin’ and irrevocably soured her first impression. And although that slip was one Foggy might otherwise be willing to forgive, Matt was happy to see he also had enough sense to be wary of Elektra’s motives.

“She just reminds me of the kinds of girls who’d ask me out in high school on a dare from their friends,” he admitted to Matt one night, without bitterness or shame. “Although since she’s a diplomat’s kid I guess it’s probably more likely this is Rosalind’s doing.”

Rosalind. Foggy’s birth mother. A cutthroat attorney with her fingers in all sorts of pies. It was something Matt hadn’t considered — a reasonable explanation, he supposed, except that Elektra moved like a killer. Still, it would make a good excuse to keep Foggy out of Elektra’s claws while Matt figured out who she really worked for.

“Better not to risk it,” Matt said with a shrug. “Plenty of other fish in the sea. That’s a thing people say, right?”

The words coaxed a laugh from Foggy’s mouth.

“Maybe for you, buddy. I don’t exactly have prospects banging down my door. And she is extremely hot...” After a long pause, Foggy sighed, falling back onto his bed with a thump. “Ehh, I’m not gross enough to test if she’d sleep with me just to keep up the ruse, though. Come on, help me come up with something really mean to say to her to get her to back off, you’re scary good at stuff like that.”

It was nice, Matt thought to himself, to be appreciated for one’s talents, even the unimportant ones. He spent the next two hours concocting increasingly scathing brush-offs for Foggy to use on Elektra. Foggy sounded conflicted but impressed at every one.

—

“Foggy!” Elektra greeted brightly — then, less so. “Matthew.”

Foggy took a deep breath the way he always did when he needed to gather his courage. Matt shifted closer so their shoulders brushed; casual contact usually seemed to help, when it came to Foggy, and this time was no different.

“What do you want, Elektra?” Foggy asked sharply, and Matt was reminded with a little shiver of Foggy’s cold tone during mock debates.

“I thought we could go get a drink tonight,” Elektra replied, and Matt’s hands clenched into fists at the sound of her running her fingers up Foggy’s arm. “Maybe some dinner? I know this lovely little place with a view of the whole city. I’ll even be a gentleman and pay.”

It was the kind of joke Matt knew Foggy normally found funny. But he didn’t laugh, just shook Elektra off. The movement jostled Matt too but he hardly minded.

“Stop it!” Foggy snapped.

“Pardon?” asked Elektra, and her tone went a little icy.

“Look,” said Foggy, and he was practically shaking he was so upset, “I don’t know what you’re really after and I don’t care, but you’re a really shitty actress, ok? You’re clearly about as real as a three dollar bill and I’m not gonna date you. So buzz off.”

For once, Elektra didn’t have a smart remark to make. Her heartbeat even stumbled a little in surprise. She walked off without a word, and after he finished hyperventilating, Foggy spent the next fifteen minutes crowing about the dumbstruck look on her face. All in all it was a wonderful afternoon.

—

But Elektra didn’t give up. In fact, Foggy’s rejection only seemed to make her more determined. She appeared everywhere they went — parties, classes, study sessions. No matter how either of them told her off, she continued to crop up like a bad penny. And she... Adjusted. Slowly enough that it might seem natural to anyone who wasn’t as suspicious as Matt, she modulated her behavior around Foggy. Stopped with the horrible, saccharine attempts at seduction. Let herself be a little mean and rude, but with a softer, kinder layer underneath. Both were fake, in Matt’s expert opinion; a careful balancing act to make Elektra seem more genuine, more likable, and more like Matt. And the more he was around her, the more certain Matt became that he was the real target of her interest. She was working for the Hand, maybe, coming to check on him. Or their enemies. But either way, giving too much of a reaction would be dangerous — so Matt waited, and kept his thoughts to himself. Didn’t allow himself to respond to the way interest seeped into Foggy’s tone around Elektra, or the way she slowly and cautiously began to initiate physical contact. He tried to ignore the way Elektra subtly asked Foggy questions about him, or quietly egged him on whenever he mentioned Matt of his own accord — which was often. Matt let her gather information. She’d confront him on her own as soon as she thought she had what she needed.

—

And so she did. A month and a half after changing her strategy, once Foggy had absorbed her into their friend group against Matt’s advice, she followed Matt to Fogwell’s. He let her, because the sneaking around was frankly beginning to annoy him.

“At last,” he mused lightly, whirling around in time to catch her wrist before the blade in her hand could press against his throat, “your true colors are revealed.”

“Ooh. Very nice reflexes, Matthew.”

Matt squeezed her wrist until her weapon clattered to the floor.

“Why thank you. I think it’s time we talk, don’t you?”

Elektra lashed out with her leg, and Matt had to release her. She had the sense to keep her distance afterwards, instead of pressing the attack. Matt took the time to pick up his cane.

“Hmmm, and what should we talk about, I wonder? Me? Or is the anger in your voice about Franklin?”

Matt’s hands clenched tighter around his cane. He had about eleven different things he wanted to spit at her, but for the moment he kept his peace.

“You look like a wet cat, Matthew,” she continued to needle. “Have I struck a nerve?”

“I’m warning you,” Matt told her. “I don’t take kindly to people meddling in my affairs. I can appreciate subterfuge as much as the next person, but the jig is up, as they say. I might not know why, or who, but I know someone sent you here for me. You might as well come clean.”

Elektra just laughed her pretty, irritating little rich girl laugh.

“Oh my, you really are a piece of work, aren’t you? When they told me you were Stick’s apprentice once upon a time, I really didn’t expect... This.”

Hearing Stick’s name rankled Matt worse than her mocking about Foggy.

“Who sent you?” he demanded.

Elektra laughed.

“You couldn’t guess? The Chaste did. And it only took me a second to pick out your ridiculous little friend as the weak link. At first I thought I’d just use him to get access to you,” she mused, “but now? Now I’m having fun watching you squirm. I’m going to do everything I can to take your little boytoy away from you, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

Matt smiled in a way he knew frightened people, and flicked the blade in his cane up out of its sheath an inch or two.

“Au contraire, Miss Natchios,” he said. “I could kill you.”

“But you won’t, Matthew.”

She sounded very sure. More sure than Matt was.

“And why is that?” he asked her.

“Because right now a living Chaste agent is more useful to you than a dead one. You’re like me, Matthew. You get terribly bored by all this.” There was a swish of air as she waved her hand around as if to encompass the world. “Isn’t it nice to not have to pretend with someone? And besides... If you kill me here, you’ll have no way to figure out what my side is really up to.”

She had a point. Matt was still more curious than annoyed, if just barely so. And if the Chaste was going to attempt to increase their presence in the city it would behoove him to know about it as soon as possible. Damn.

“Just don’t push your luck,” Matt snapped.

When Elektra replied, he could all but hear the grin in her voice.

“Now where’s the fun in that?”

And so, despite the modicum of sense that told Matt he should just slit Elektra’s throat and be done with it, their game of cat and mouse continued. They picked fights with one another more openly, more frequently. Matt could tell Elektra enjoyed it, and... Maybe he enjoyed it too. As much as he didn’t like to admit it, there was something new and interesting about living this mundane life alongside someone with the same dark secrets as him.

But that didn’t mean she let up on her determination to take Foggy from him. Every day, despite all the sense he spoke to his roommate when they were alone, Matt lost ground with Foggy to Elektra. But he knew the more emotion he let her see, the further she’d push the envelope. He had to stay placid. Detached. Cold and calculating and unfeeling.

—

Despite Matt’s intention to stay calm, he very nearly flew off the handle the afternoon he returned to the dorm and caught them kissing. Not his finest moment. Foggy, peacekeeper that he was, asked Elektra to give him and Matt some time to talk. She agreed, smacked a particularly loud peck against Foggy’s cheek for Matt’s benefit, and flounced off smugly. There were a few minutes of silence as Foggy gathered what he wanted to say, and Matt spent them seething.

“You’re still my best friend, you know,” Foggy said at last. “Me and Elektra, that doesn’t change this.”

“She’s not a good person, Foggy,” insisted Matt, and he couldn’t quite hold back the frustration bubbling through his veins that the one time he was telling the truth Foggy wouldn’t believe him.

“I know it seems like that, Matt, but Elektra and I talked and I think we were wrong about her. I... I think maybe she really does like me,” Foggy offered, and his voice went so hopeful and shy that Matt had to dig his nails into his palms to keep from grabbing the laptop off his desk and shattering it against the wall.

His patience had worn out. Something had to be done about Elektra, he vowed. Soon.

—

It was like she knew what he was planning. It took another month to corner her. By then, Foggy had fallen for her con hook, line, and sinker and Matt’s frayed nerves were beginning to take a slight but unacceptable toll on his schoolwork. Foggy had also dragged Matt out shopping to buy a silk scarf to gift to Elektra; crimson, Foggy had explained, because a flashy, beautiful color like that suited her. Never mind that she had enough money to buy anything her heart desired— Foggy was in love. Matt was torn between wanting to puke and wanting to shatter something.

This time, he was the one to follow her to Fogwell’s. It was past two in the morning, and she moved slow enough that he never lost her even though he deigned not to take to the rooftops for speed. Which made it feel like a trap, but Matt could tell they were alone, and Fogwell’s was his home turf so he had the advantage anyway.

She knew he had followed her, so he didn’t bother to sneak up on her or offer a greeting.

“Why now?” he asked instead, a little curious despite himself.

“I figured I really should work on my actual mission at some point,” Elektra said. “And you seemed like you were reaching a breaking point.”

“Ah,” Matt said. “So now we fight to the death, is that it?”

Elektra took two slow steps to the right, and Matt turned his body to follow the sound.

“We don’t have to, you know,” she told him, and sounded almost soft. “They asked me to bring you back to us if I could. You could be one of us, Matthew. Walk away from this ridiculous act. Walk away from the Hand.”

Which was senseless on its face. Matt had everything he needed. Power, control. A good life. The Chaste and the Hand were two sides of the same coin — Elektra’s people wouldn’t be able to give him anything new. Stick had been one of their best and the Hand had cut him down like an animal. No, Matt was satisfied where he was. On the winning side. Switching allegiances would buy him nothing but new masters to learn to accommodate.

“I’m happy where I’m at, thank you,” he said with as much amusement as he could muster when the words tasted like ash in his mouth.

“Liar,” Elektra retorted.

But Matt ignored her to slip off his shoes and socks. It was more pleasant to fight that way, when he could feel every vibration and movement running up through the soles of his feet. And it reminded him of the dojos in Japan, one of the few pleasant sensory memories in Matt’s life. He could almost smell the tatami if he tried. And taste the blood in his mouth. Those were the things on his mind when he and Elektra began to fight.

“I’ve been waiting for this,” she told him as they traded blows, a breathless admission. “To see you really let loose. You could do this all the time if you joined us.”

She was still at it, still trying to get him to shift his allegiance. Well, two could play at that game.

“You think we’re so alike,” Matt said, grinning as he hit his stride, as the fight moved into something closer to a dance. “And we are. But that goes both ways, Elektra. There’s a darkness in you that all the Chaste’s sanctimonious brainwashing can’t stamp out. You’re not better than me. You’re not more righteous than me. We’re both just killers.”

And with those words, Matt was exactly where he wanted to be. By the switches whose placement he’d had memorized since a time when he could still see them. He hit the lights, and they flicked out with a crack of electricity. Then there was nothing but himself and Elektra, together in the darkness. No ambient buzz to cover the way Elektra’s heart began to pound, the way her breaths shortened, the silken swish of her hair as she tried in vain to spot him among the shadows.

It took just a little too long for her eyes to adjust, and Matt took ruthless advantage. To Elektra’s credit, she did manage a cut to his arm — with a thin blade, a sai, maybe, from the way she flipped it in her hand. But it wasn’t enough. It took Matt just minutes to knock her weapons away and pin her to the floor with his foot on her neck.

“I’ll make you a deal, Elektra Natchios,” he said, grinding his heel harder against her throat. “I’ll let you live — in fact, I’m such a swell guy I won’t even tell the Hand you were ever here. And in exchange, you’re going to take your talons out of Nelson.”

Point made, Matt removed his foot to let Elektra speak.

“How do you mean?” she rasped, and wisely didn’t try to attack him again.

Matt grinned.

“I’m glad you asked. You’re going to break things off with him. You’re going to make him hate you — so much that once you’re gone he won’t think of you again.”

Matt was going to keep Foggy around for the foreseeable future — and he didn’t want to hear about Elektra during any of it.

“Why do you want him so badly, Matthew?” she spat. “What’s so special about him? At least tell me that much.”

Matt shrugged, still smiling a shark’s smile.

“I have plans for him. That’s all you need to know. Now, do we have a deal?”

He held out a hand. Elektra shook it.

—

Matt listened, head tipped back against the wall of the dorm building, while two storeys above Elektra broke Foggy’s heart. It wasn’t as satisfying as he’d thought it would be. She was flat and cold and didn’t flinch, and Matt could hear every pathetic sniffle Foggy tried to hide. She finished with a particularly uncalled-for comment about Foggy’s weight, and slammed the door on her way out. Matt tilted his head to focus on the click of Elektra’s heels on the stairs, but kept getting distracted by the salt smell of Foggy’s tears. A single drop of something wet streaked down Matt’s face and he scrubbed it away with the heel of his palm, irritated. It hadn’t rained since morning, why the hell were the trees still dripping rainwater?

He set the thought aside as the door to the building opened and Elektra stepped out.

“Satisfied?” she asked over her shoulder, not even pausing as she strode away into the night.

“Immensely,” Matt replied. “But I’d be out of the city before sunrise, if I were you. Just to be safe.”

Elektra’s pace didn’t quicken, and neither did her heartbeat, but Matt thought they understood one another. It was only a few minutes until she was out of range of his perception. Once she was well and truly gone, Matt took a slow loop around the outside of the dorm building, whistling to himself, before he made his way back to his and Foggy’s room. He knocked lightly at the door before letting himself in.

“Hey, Matt,” Foggy greeted, trying and failing to sound cheerful. “Welcome home, buddy.”

He was sitting on his bed, rubbing fabric between his hands. Silk. The scarf he’d bought for Elektra, the gift he was going to give her. Matt wasn’t sure whether or not to be relieved she hadn’t taken it.

“What...” Matt’s throat went suddenly and horribly tight; he had to swallow a few times before he could speak again. “Did something happen? What’s wrong?”

It was Foggy’s turn to clear his throat.

“Uh. Elektra—” His voice cracked. “Um. She broke up with me. I... I guess, um. She really was dating me because of Rosalind but... She, uh, got. Got sick of me.”

The smell of salt thickened in the air again, and there was a sudden, sharp pain in the area of Matt’s heart. He rubbed his chest idly.

“Foggy, I’m sorry.”

He received a bitter laugh in response.

“No, Matt, this isn’t... You tried to warn me. I should have trusted you.” Foggy sighed, letting the silk scarf slip through his fingers; it hit the floor with a near-silent swish. “You know, I just thought... I thought maybe somebody out there really did want me for me. Guess I won’t make that mistake again.”

Elektra had been entirely too much trouble, but in the end she’d broken first. And that had pushed Foggy further into Matt’s clutches. All was well that ended well. The more implicitly Foggy trusted Matt’s judgment, the easier he’d be to manipulate.

And yet, as Matt sat down next to Foggy and squeezed his shoulder comfortingly, his stomach churned with nausea. It was the perfect moment to say something endearing and manipulative — you’ll always have me, Matt thought firmly, say you’ll always have me. But the words wouldn’t come. Instead he just sat there, uselessly, and let Foggy collect the pieces of his broken heart himself.

[we-love-the-murder-bois]

GhostFace (Billy Loomis) x Male! Reader

(I wasn't too happy with this one, so I'll probably redo it. Thank you for liking my writing!)

You had never been much for movies, but that was mostly due to the fact you didn’t really have friends, and watching movies alone sucked. Your only exception had been the cult classics your mother had brought you up on. You loved horror movies, to the point where, though paranoid, you knew the rules and what to do.

It was a strange upbringing, but it was probably the reason you had survived this long.

You were currently in a coat closet, clutching a repurposed metal clothes hanger shiv as you hid under a pile of coats, head tilted back to breathe quietly. You had reluctantly gone to a movie night hosted by some teenagers you kind of knew. Normally you wouldn’t have bothered, but it was Nightmare On Elm Street, you couldn’t resist.

You cursed your horror boner, yet praised it, as you tried to think of a plan. A masked killer, much like the one from the Woodsbury murders a year back, had started covertly picking off those who broke away from the group. Maybe it was paranoia, but you had avoided going anywhere alone of with a single person, and especially stayed away from the couples.

When all hell finally broke loose, you made a run for it, but found every way out blocked or too hard to open, so you armed yourself and hid. There was only one way out of the closet, but clothes, brooms, and other junk surrounded you, all could be used as projectiles or to trip the killer up.

The killer had been almost embarrassingly predictable up until that point, following all the rules and stereotypes that you knew. You were an introverted virgin with horror movie knowledge, so maybe you were the final...boy? Huh, not many slashers kept the awkward guy alive, but then again, the company had been severely lacking at the party. You were the least annoying and probably the only virgin.

You jumped as a phone rang from outside the door, so close it rattled against the wood. You immediately disentangled yourself, knowing the jig was up, they They you were in there. You had been getting weird calls for the last week at this point, just like in the woodsbury murders. You knew what the phone symbolized.

You crept towards the door carefully, weapon gripped tightly and heart pounding. You knew the drill. The final person got chased around the house and discovered all the bodies. You weren’t planning on leaving just yet though, they had to come to you.

You grabbed a plunger and stood a foot away, pressing it against the door until the wood creaked. Almost immediately there was contact, a splintering of wood as a knife was jabbed through the door and into the plunger. You threw the plunder dawn and crouched by the door, heart in your throat. You could have been at home watching movies and eating instant noodles, but here you were being hunted.

The door was wrenched open suddenly, blinding you with the bright hallway lights. You charged the second you could, stabbing the coat hanger into the masked killer before bolting. You headed straight for the window, fully prepared to crash through it, but you were tackled from behind.

You went down hard, using your arms to brace you. The attacker was on your back, probably rearing to stab you, so you twisted and wiggled, but it was to no effect. The attacker was pinning you, and they were larger and stronger. You didn’t stand a chance without a weapon, so you used your best defense mechanism.

Talking.

“You know, you’re really predictable.” You said, managing a bored tone even as your heart was frantically beating. You felt the killer still.

“Oh really.” The slick voice from the phone responded, sounding teasing, like this all was a game. To them, it probably was.

“Yeah. You followed all the 80’s slasher rules, I could smell you from a mile away.” You sighed, body limp as you calculated your chances for escape. You stiffened when something sharp dug between your shoulder blades, but the pressure disappeared for a moment as your attacker spoke.

“Oh good, you noticed.” They drawled, the bite of the knife soon coming back. You felt the pressure shift as your attacker leaned forward.

“So y/n, you’ve been ignoring me for some time now, and you never did answer my question.”

“You mean that cheesy one liner? Really, dude?” You raised your head, only to have it harshly shoved back down into the floor.

“Answer the damn question!” You heard an echo with that one. Voice modulator, smart. They’d need a hand free, unless it was in the mask. If it wasn’t, you could use that to escape.

“Fine. Nightmare On Elm Street, which I was enjoying before you came in and ruined my night.” You snapped, face squished against the faux wood floor.

“Alright then, why don’t we play a game.”

“Pass, Jigsaw. Let’s talk about you. Why are you killing teenagers? Why not aim for young adults? I’m supposed to be worrying about college, not killers.” The knife dig in more, a sharp pain shooting down your spine, accompanied by a warm trickle of blood.

“How about this, you don’t have a choice. Answer wrong, I’ll sever your spinal cord.” Why were you still alive? This guy was really dead set in playing by the rules.

“So, what’s your motive. Were you burned alive? Drowned? Oh! Wait, you probably want to make a suit out of me, is that right?” This was not going right, but you couldn’t seem to shut up.

“Shut. Up. Who’s the killer in Nightmare On Elm Street?”

“Duh, Freddy Krueger, now free me you sexually repressed psycho!” You continued your squirming in bursts, gritting your teeth against the bite of the knife.

“Ah, ah, ah, we’re not done yet, time for a harder question.” You rolled your eyes painfully hard, groaning. Why did killers drag on with the final victim for so long?

“What are you, my science teacher?”

“What is the nickname of Michael Myers?” This would be easy, you loved the Halloween movies.

“The shape of Haddonfeild.” You snapped, lying as still as possible as you looking for an out.

“You’re good.” They purred, forcing you to pretend that voice wasn’t a little arousing. This was not the time to get a boner!

“I try. My turn now, why am I last? Is it because I’m a virgin? Real classic, buddy.” The killer stiffened, making your face flush. That wasn’t something you advertised!

“Wait! How the hell did you know I was a virgin!?” They didn’t respond, but the grip on you loosened just slightly. You took the chance. You swung your elbow back, cheering mentally as it connected with something hard. You scrambled up, yelling through your teeth as the knife dug in to your back before being dislodged.

You ran furiously at the window and barreled into it, praying that real life windows broke as easily as they did in horror movies. You crashed into the glass, pain shooting down your arms at the contact. With a sudden loud crash, the glass gave way, sending you into the glittering mess of glass and to the hard ground. You didn’t take time to assess your injuries, just running as fast as possible towards the nearest place with people. Probably the police station or firehouse.

“See you in the sequel, asshole!”

[hetalialoverwrites]

Mirror Mirror on the Wall

Part 9

First  -  Previous  -  Next

        Out on the tourney field, Auradon's team is matched evenly with their rival's Tourney team, 2 to 2. Jay and Carlos are on the bench and Coach sends Chad out, "Good luck Chad." Jay lightly hits Chad's arm. Chad looks back for a moment before running out, calling back to Jay, "Thanks, Jay!" "This is a nail-biter, folks. There are 47 seconds on the clock, and we're all tied up. The Sherwood Falcons, two. The Fighting Knights, two. What a game between Auradon's fiercest rivals! The teams get into their huddle ups and take positions along the kill zone." The announcer calls out as Coach calls one of his players in, "Jay, you're up." "The Dragoneers have been laying down a withering hail of fire and now a substitution by Coach Jenkins." Coach! How about my buddy here?" Jay asked, lifting Carlos up. "Oh no." Carlos tried to sit back down quickly but Jay kept him standing. "You said a team is like a body. He's kinda like my brain." Jay convinced. Coach sighed and nodded, calling another player in and letting them go out there.

        "He's bringing that hothead Jay in from the Isle of the Lost and that little guy Carlos can barely hold a shield! When they break from their huddles, this is gonna be a big moment here. And the tipoff is ready! Here we go. Long pass goes to Jay. Jay dishes off to Prince Ben. Nice little block by Carlos! He does a little dancing jig in front of his opponent's face! And now Jay gets the ball back! Here comes Jay! Jay, hurdling maneuver at mid-field. Jay makes a nice pass to Prince Ben through the Kill Zone! BIG BLOCK BY CHAD! Prince Ben moves over wide, gives it back to Jay. He's in the clear! SHOT!" The announcer yells out, but sadly Jay doesn't make the goal. "OH, WHAT A SAVE FROM PHILIP THE FALCONS' GOALKEEPER! 23 seconds left on the clock; you could cut the tension with a sword. The long ball is played into Jay. Jay, great jump, great leap, and a great move by Jay. BIG BLOCK FROM CHAD! Jay dishes off to Prince Ben. THEN CARLOS WITH A BIG BLOC, GOES DOWN! Jay, through the Kill Zone, picks up Carlos. Oh! He's being hammer by dragon fire! He's still going! Jay, hurdling maneuver in mid-field! He's in the clear! The ball goes back to Jay! He passes to Prince Ben! HE SCORES!!" The announcer screams out, his voice hoarse. 

        The crowd cheers loudly, jumping up and down excitedly. You and Mal have to cover your ears as Evie and Lonnie turn to each other and scream excitedly, jumping as well. You and Mal have your wings wrapped around yourselves, casting a spell on everyone around you two not to feel your wings if they bump into them. The spell worked well in the hallways, but if they bump into them hard enough it won't work. The spell makes them brush it off, but no one is going to brush off being shoved into a wall or falling or dropping their books suddenly. And just for this one game, you both also spelled your wings invisible to yourselves to see what was going on. "PRINCE BEN HAS DONE IT! WHAT AN UNSELFISH PLAY BY JAY! What a team! Incredible! And it's the new guys, Jay and Carlos that set it up for Prince Ben! WHAT A VICTORY! AND WHAT AN ABSOLUTELY BRILLIANT END TO ONE OF THE BEST GAMES EVER!" The announcer yells out before his mic and stand were taken away from him.

        You were surprised at the sound of Ben yelling out, "Excuse me! Excuse me! Can I have your attention please?" He asked. Everyone quieted down and waited for him to speak happily, still on their excitement high from the game. Ben got onto the stand the Dragoneers stand on, accidentally shoving someone off it. "I have something to say!" Ben yelled into the mic, putting the pic back on the stand in front of him. Suddenly with a bright grin, Ben starts to have people spell out your name. As you realized this, your face flushed in embarrassment. "What does that spell!?" Ben yelled, making everyone in the stands turn to you, "(Y/n)!" They all called out. You hide your face in your hands and peeks out through your fingers to see what was happening. "Come on, I can't hear you!" Ben yelled. "(Y/N)!" They all scream. Mal was hiding her laughter behind her hands, her shoulders shaking with mirth. "I love you (Y/n)! Did I mention that?" He asked.

        You flushed red at the sudden declaration, absently wondering what was in that cookie. "GIMME A BEAT!" Ben called to the band. "Uno, dos, tres, cuatro!" Doug called to the delight of the band players who started to play. Ben's foot started tapping and he looked overjoyed before singing, "Did I mention that I'm in love with you? And did I mention that there's nothing I can do? And did I happen to say, I dream of you every day? Well, let me shout it out loud if that's okay, hey, hey. Yeah! If that's okay!" The crowd sang as the backup to him, including Jay and Carlos who you were going to kill later. Ben started to dance, half of the Tourney team following his lead, "I met this girl who rocked my world like it's never been rocked. And now I'm living just for her and I won't ever stop!" The rest of the team joined in to dance. "I never thought that it could happen to a guy like me, but now look at what you've done, you've got me down on my knees." Ben dropped to his knees and pounded the ground. "Cause my love for you is ridiculous! I never knew-." "Who knew?" Jay and Carlos asked.

        "-That it could be like this! My love for you is ridiculous! My love is r-i-d-i-c-u-l-o-u-s!" Ben sang, spelling out the letters and everyone followed along after him. "It's!" "Ridiculous!" "Just!" "Ridiculous!" "And I would give my kingdom for just one kiss!" Ben sang, sending the crowd into hysterics. "Well did I mention, I'm in love with you? And did I mention, there's nothing I can do?" Ben locked eyes with you, and you blushed even further as Evie and Mal teased you with Lonnie. "And did I happen to say I dream of you every day? Well, let me shout it out loud! If that's okay, hey, hey. Hey! If that's okay." Ben took the mic out and leaned back, using the stand to hold himself up. "I gotta know which way to go, come on, give me a sign!" The team synced moves with him, "You gotta show me that you're only ever gonna be mine! Don't wanna go another minute living' without you! Cause if your heart just isn't in it, I don't know what I'd do." Ben leaned back into the arms of his teammates who launched him up into the air. He landed and continued singing to the crowds screams and to you. Your jaw dropped and you lowered your hands to your mouth as Evie squealed next to you. "Because my love for you is ridiculous! I never knew-" "Who knew?" "That is could be like this? My love for you is ridiculous! My love is r-i-d-i-c-u-l-o-u-s! It's!" "Ridiculous!" "Just!" "Ridiculous!"

        Ben glanced up to you and caught you smiling at him, a smile growing on his face. "And I would give my kingdom for just one kiss! Come on now!" After some dancing, Ben pulled off his jersey, balled it up, and threw it up to you. You caught it and laughed in surprise as the dancing grew more outrageous, Ben jumping onto the horse mascot. "Because my love for you is ridiculous! I never knew-" "Who knew?" "That it could be like this! My love for you is ridiculous! My love is r-i-d-i-c-u-l-o-u-s!" As the crowd repeated the chanting, Ben was thrown up on the bleachers and he crowd-surfed over to you. "It's!" Ridiculous!" You felt Evie grab your hand in support as Mal was laughing so hard she had to lean against Evie. "Just!" "Ridiculous!" You turned away to leave quickly, not knowing if you could take him coming up to you after all this embarrassment. "And I would give my kingdom for just one kiss. Come on now!" Evie spun you around and there standing in front of you, barely missing being hit by your wings as you were spun, was Ben. He was leaned over to look at you, panting and sweaty from the game, singing, and dancing.

        He cupped your cheek and leaned in to kiss you when you leaned away sharply, covering your face with her jersey. He leaned back and laughed before pulling you into a hug with one arm. You managed to twist your wings away in time, accidentally hitting Evie. "I love you (Y/n)! Did I mention that?" Ben asked, still seeming a lot like he was going to kiss you if you raised your head to look at him. Then, Ben no longer had the mic and Audrey did. "Chad's my boyfriend now! And I'm going to the coronation with him. So, I don't need your pity date." She bit at Ben before kissing Chad, making the crowd whoop for them. Ben took back the mic hastily and turned back to you, "(Y/n)! Will you go to the coronation with me!?" Ben yelled, which was unnecessary, into your ear. "Yes!" You exclaimed into the mic. "SHE SAID YES!" Ben yelled along with the crowd, making Audrey pout and storm off, tugging Chad along with her.

        Ben moved his arm to around your back and Jay saw your eyes widen with fear as he came close to touching where your wings hit your back. He ran up and grabbed Ben, "Let's go, Ben! The whole team is waiting for you!" Jay managed to pull Ben far enough away that his hand couldn't touch you anymore. Ben took your hand as he agreed to go with Jay and walked off, your hand slipping through his. You were fanning your face to calm down your blush and turned to Evie, immediately sobering. "E...?" You called gently, watching her look after Chad. You and Mal were about to console her before she took in a sharp breath, "I don't need someone like him anyway!" She said strongly. You and Mal were both shocked, but grinned brightly at her, hugging your friend, "That's right!" You agreed. "He's a jerk anyway!" Mal nodded. Evie smiled at you both and hugged back tightly. "Audrey wouldn't need a prince if she were talented like you." Mal continued, making Evie smile. More cheers were heard from down  on the field and you looked down to see Jay being lifted into the air with a trophy in his hand ."There he is! Jay, the most valuable player." The announcer called. You three cheered for Jay as he waved up to you all.

[ghostyprince]

title: black eyes (find you almost at once)

word count: 2.156 rating: T fandom: BuzzF. Uns. relationship: Ryan B./Shane M. summary:  Ryan disappears in the forest during their hunt for Bigfoot, and Shane freaks out a little too much.

author’s note:  well, I'm really not happy with my writing lately, but i hope some of you can find joy in this little thing i started a few weeks ago and thought i could might as well finish it. the prompt is from @shyanlibrary

[READ ON AO3]

or read more here

Shane knew they shouldn’t have gone out there alone.

"This forest is pretty spooky, don't you think? Maybe Bigfoot will really give us a visit." Shane laughed quietly, cold air coming out of his mouth in white puffs.

It's fairly chilly too, he mused, and then looked up from his phone when no answer came from his friend. He’s been aimlessly scrolling on social media while waiting for Ryan to finish shooting the scenes he wanted. Shane pocketed the phone, glancing around, searching for Ryan. His whole body gone cold when he realized he was alone, that he probably had been alone for minutes by then. Shane called out, panic bubbling up in his chest, knocking the wind out of him. "Ryan?"

Shane knew they shouldn’t have gone out there alone, but Ryan insisted. ‘We can shoot a few cool nature clips on our own, it’s fine’. They promised Devon they wouldn’t wander too far into the woods, and they didn’t. He could’ve easily found his way back from where they were in like five minutes.

Shane should’ve paid more attention to Ryan though, he let his guard down because they were in a forest, not an old prison, or a rural house with harmless ghosts and demons he can intimidate to not even dare as much as glancing at Ryan's way. He didn’t feel any presence in the parts of the forest they explored for the video, so he let his guard down and now Ryan was missing and Shane didn’t know what the fuck to do.

No answer came, just the quiet sounds of the forest around him. The sun was still out, some birds were happily chirping, it was a beautiful day, really. And Ryan was fucking missing.

Shane took a ragged breath, his insides were doing flips, the demon in him going wild. He needed to find Ryan. He could’ve been attacked, or taken by another demon, or a wild animal, or a serial killer or–

Shane didn't realize he was moving, frantically pushing his way through bushes and trying to keep the branches out of his face.

"Ryan, goddammit, where are you?!"

He stopped for a second, trying to think rationally, but his mind was buzzing numbly, repeating the words "have to find him". Maybe he should call TJ. But what if it's a demon who has Ryan? No, he has to do this alone. It’s been only a few minutes, if Ryan wandered off on his own, he could’ve been too far away. On the other hand, if it was some demon who knows where Ryan was at that point.

It was so so dumb, going out there, just the two of them. It was only supposed to be a few minutes. But now Ryan is missing and Shane is freaking the fuck out. How could he be so careless? He always had Ryan in his sight, in every single location they visited, Shane's main focus was protecting Ryan. From nasty demons, and spirits to fucking Bigfoot if he must.

Defeated and worried, he walked back to where they started filming, so maybe if Ryan finds his way back they can meet up. Shane yelled some more, until his voice was hoarse and raw, never getting any response back, nothing. The forest was just as warm and peaceful and still.

And Ryan was fucking gone. That's it, he won't ever see him again.

Scenarios played in his head, Ryan laying on the forest ground, bleeding out, getting mauled to death by a bear or a demon.

Shane only noticed he wasn't breathing properly when actually started choking, throat closing off, and heart hammering in his chest. It felt like he was underwater, gallons and gallons of ocean water pressing down on his lungs. The chirping of the birds and the soft rustling of leaves was replaced by the sound of blood rushing in his ear. He had to find him.

"Shane?" It was faint, just barely picked up by Shane’s delicate senses, but it was Ryan. His Ryan.

"Ryan!" He tried shouting again, long legs already carrying him the direction Ryan's voice came from. He heard his name again, closer this time. Shane broke into a run. It wasn’t graceful, he almost slipped twice, but he didn’t even register it.

And finally, he saw Ryan. He was grinning at him like Shane hadn't just almost died at the thought of losing him.

Shane closed the distance between them with quick, long strides, and slammed into Ryan, arms wrapping around him like an octopus. He nearly knocked them straight on their asses.

"Whoa, easy there buddy." Ryan wheezed, face squished into Shane's chest. "I'm fine, it's okay."

Shane buried his face into Ryan's curls, breathing in his scent, his lungs working properly again. Absolute relief flooded him, rendering his whole body numb. Ryan was safe. With him.

"I was so worried. You were just gone and I-" His voice cracked and his eyes were stinging a little. He wasn’t tired, a little running around in the woods is nothing to a demon, but mentally, he was exhausted.

He just wanted to go back to the hotel and lay on the bed for a few hours. Possibly do all of that without letting go of Ryan at all.

"Shane, look at me." Ryan gently pushed him away, and Shane had to resist the urge to pull him right back. His skin was prickling just to touch Ryan, to know for sure that he's there and it’s not some cruel hallucination.

Ryan stopped talking abruptly, whatever he was about to say flew out the window apparently. His eyes widened, staring into Shane’s own.

He was staring at Shane like he saw a ghost, literally. Shane could sense the fear rolling off of him in waves, and oh it was so delicious, but it horrified him at the same time, putting him on edge. "What? What's wrong?"

And then he realized.

His eyes were black, he must’ve forgotten to get rid of them after searching for Ryan.

Fuck.

"Listen, I can expl–"

Shane was cut off by blinding pain radiating from his nose, spreading onto his cheeks and jaw. He saw white for a moment. His human body could only take so much and Ryan was pretty damn strong. The punch landed just the right way, with a sickening crunch. Fight or flight kicked in, and boy did Ryan fight. It hurt like a motherfucker too.

"Ow, Ryan what the hell?!" He blinked away the tears welling up in his eyes to glare at Ryan, whose expression was a mix between confused, regretful and terrified. Well, Shane could hardly blame him. There he was, one of Ryan's biggest fears standing right in front of him.

Shane was oddly proud of him, even when he tasted blood in his mouth, dripping down his lips and chin in a steady flow.

"Are you– are you possessed? I have holy water, I'm not scared to use it!"

"Yeah, I fucking noticed you're not scared." And he was laughing now, spitting out blood, because this was ridiculous. He never would've thought that Ryan Bergara, when faced with an actual demon, would just deck it in the nose. Shane lifted his hands in front of him, to show he's harmless.

"No, I'm not possessed. I'm a demon. I hadn’t meant to tell you this way, I wanted to ease you into it." His voice sounded stupid, but he did his best to remain serious as he continued.

"I understand that you're scared, and you might hate my guts now, but I'm still the same, Ryan. I promise. I still love doing Unsolved, and I still adore our movie nights, and the Disneyland trips. I would never cause you harm intentionally."

Shane sounded desperate, but he didn’t even care. Ryan was one of the best things in his life, and he wasn’t about to lose him. He was stubbornly staring at his shoes throughout his whole speech, dripping a few drops of blood on it. Aw, shit.

Ryan said nothing for a torturously long minute until Shane finally looked up at him. He was the one feeling terrified himself, of the possibility fucking up their friendship, and the hope of something more, that they danced around for months by then, neither of them brave enough to take the first step.

"Let me see your nose." Is the first thing Ryan said, and for the second time that day, Shane was so relieved. Ryan shuffled closer, already digging through his pockets for some tissue paper.

They sat next to each other on a moss covered fallen tree, and Ryan wiped off the blood from Shane’s face, with shaky hands. He was tense and clearly not comfortable with even just sitting next to him. Shane fucked up so bad, and it hurt more than his nose ever could.

"'M not gonna hurt you, Ry, I promise," Shane muttered, softly. It made Ryan's chest ache. It was just Shane, the guy who yells at ghosts to rip out his spine, and who makes Ryan laugh in the most ridiculous situations. He's tall and gangly, and when they found each other earlier, he was clinging to Ryan like his life depended on it.

"Yeah, I know, big guy." Ryan cleans his face off as best as he can, some of the blood already dried on his chin. Shane stuffed two rolled up tissue paper into his nostrils. It hurt and it was uncomfortable, but soaked up the blood.

"I think I broke your nose, I'm so sorry," Ryan said with a pained expression.

"You know, I can't believe the first thing you do when you face a demon is to punch him in the face. Who are you?" Shane laughed.

"I panicked!" Ryan flushed, embarrassed. "I thought you were going to kill me."

"Well, the jig is up." Shane laughed, there was no humor in it. "I'm gonna be real with you, if you want to be as far away from me as possible, I can do that."

Ryan looked ready to cut him off, but Shane put up his hand.

"Just, let me-- I don't think I can do this again if you interrupt me now."

He wasn't looking at Ryan while he took a shaky breath, desperately scrambling for coherent thoughts.

"I like you." He paused. "No, fuck that, I love you. People don't say that enough, you know. Actually, what do I know? I'm a demon." Shane said, wheezing, but it came out more like a strangled choke, the weight of Ryan knowing his so carefully hidden secret sat heavy on his chest.

"Shane."

"I'm really just rambling now, do you want to go back to the hotel? I wonder what-"

"Shane." It was more assertive this time, and Shane shut up immediately, lifting his gaze to meet Ryan's.

"Listen, big guy, calm down." Both of Ryan's hands came up to frame Shane’s face, who was just staring at him, a little dazed. From the blood loss and Ryan himself too. Ryan was grinning, looking like the entire sun, and Shane thought it was so fucking unfair.

"You're an idiot. I'm gonna kiss you, alright?" Shane took three whole seconds to process the question, nodding eventually. One of his hands found its way to Ryan's wrist, Shane felt his pulse going wild. And then Ryan was pulling him down, pressing their lips together.

It wasn’t how he imagined at all.

He thought about it a lot, actually, much more than anyone else would think about kissing their best friend. Sometimes, when he was bored at their desks, just watching Ryan work. He imagined grabbing Ryan's chair and spinning him towards himself, kissing the surprise off of his face. He imagined holding Ryan close, when they slept at some haunted place, and kissing him until he stopped worrying over the creaks and noises.

Shane thought about their half serious, half banter fights, and how he'd ache to push Ryan against the closest wall, kissing him senseless just so he shuts up about ghosts for once.

No, when they finally kissed, his nose smashed against Ryan's cheek, sending a jolt of pain through his face. He still tasted copper in his mouth and Shane was sure Ryan could taste it too. When the pain in his nose became truly uncomfortable, he just had to pull away. It was possibly the worst kiss Shane ever had. Ryan was wheezing into his shoulder as soon as they broke apart, and he found himself laughing with him, because, despite all of that, it was perfect, it was so painfully them. Later they’d have to explain to the rest of the crew how Shane tripped, but he’s fine and no, he doesn’t need to go to the ER, it’s okay, while heading to their shared room. And if anyone noticed them holding hands, no one said anything.

[disabled-queen-hc-blog]

one of the boys dealing with intrusive thoughts bc of their ocd ?

Content Warning for Graphic Descriptions of Violence and Mutilation 

♚

Roger squinted at the recipe in front of him, eyes scanning over the next step. He was home alone with no plans for the night, so he figured he could try and dabble with the recipe book he just bought. Tonight, he was attempting to make Greek gyros. Attempting. 

Finely dice 1/4 a cup of yellow onions

Roger wasn’t a fan of yellow onions, so he substituted them for red ones. No big deal right? 

He reached into his grocery bag with all the ingredients he had bought earlier, picking out the onion. He grabbed a knife and got to work dicing them on the cutting board. He was no chef, but chopping everything up until it was in small pieces seemed within his skill level.

He whistled as he sliced through the onion, praying his eyes wouldn’t get irritated.

And then Roger slammed the knife straight across his fingers. Blood spurted out of the nubs, his four fingers rolling on the cutting board. Roger did it again, this time cutting through his palm and thumb. 

He kept whacking away at his hand until the kitchen was covered in red and gore and he was left with only a stump on his wrist. He kept going still.

Roger jumped back, awakened from his thought. He looked down at his hand, still intact, not a drop of blood leaking out of it. His breath was hitched, eyes watering, not from the onions. 

Shakily he put the knife down and backed out of the kitchen, his hand on his chest. What the fuck?

He’d order Chinese take out instead.

♚

“And this new kitty is named Tiffany! Just look at her,” Freddie said, holding up the tiny new addition to his family. Tiffany mewed at Roger, batting his nose with her small paw.

Roger couldn’t help but to nearly screech at the adorable little kitten. “This is your first pure bred isn’t it?” he asked as Freddie handed Tiffany over to him. The grey kitten stretched out on his lap before curling up, unbothered by all the attention. It was her nap time, it seemed.

“Yes! I saw an ad in the paper for a breeder and well..I usually adopt, but I just had to see this litter. And I fell in love with her when I saw her. She’s a magnificent daughter isn’t she?” Freddie gushed, stroking the sleepy Tiffany’s little head. Tiffany squeaked.

Roger joined in on the petting, his pointer finger big enough to give her a nice rub behind her flattened ears.

If he linked his thumb with his pointer, his fingers were big enough to pick Tiffany up from around the neck and squeeze. And if he squeezed hard enough maybe her head would pop off. Maybe he could just rip it’s head off with his hand, no issue. It wouldn’t even struggle. He could crush it’s head under his heel, if he wanted. He cou-

Roger gasped, looking at Tiffany in his lap. Her eyes were closed, letting out a quiet purr. His heart was beating fast, a sweat forming on his brow. His whole body began to shake as he handed Tiffany back to a confused Freddie, stuttering out an excuse as to why he had to leave so suddenly. 

As he walked down the hallway to the front door, he jumped when a cat brushed up against him. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered to it before running out the door. There was something seriously wrong with him.

♚

The first thing Roger heard was snapping. He shook his head, desperately trying to push those thoughts out of his head. He blinked back tears, looking at John who was trying to get his attention.

“Hello? Roger, are you there? Ar- oh. Goodness, why are you crying, mate?” John said, his disposition going soft once he saw the panic in Roger’s eyes.

Roger looked around, unsure of what to do. The jig was up. He got caught in one of those day-mares. He had just finished thinking about thrashing John’s head back into the concrete wall until it broke, until his brain oozed out, until John was more than dead. 

He couldn’t say that. No. John would think he was insane. A psychopath. He had to lie. 

Roger wasn’t a good liar though.

He quickly wicked away his tears, coughing. “Oh, um. I don’t know what happened. Started thinking and got emotional, uh, I think,” he said, a hint of a tremor in his voice. 

John wasn’t a good liar himself either, but he did have a good bullshit detector. He nodded a little bit, scooting closer to Roger. He knew something was up even before the tears. Roger had suddenly disconnected from the conversation they were having, his face going blank. His eyes got all wide, his mouth curling into a frown. After a few seconds, he blinked himself back into reality, clearly upset by whatever just happened.

“Rog..you know I’m here for you, no matter what, right?” John said, his tone gentle. He didn’t want to pry, but something was up with his friend. It was in his nature to try to help.

Roger was finding it hard to breathe. He wanted to talk or say something, but all his brain could conjure up was the image of John dead in front of him. Dead by his hands. Dead slouched over the table or dead on the floor, bleeding out or screaming for help as Roger beat him with a chair or-

“Woah, Roger, take a breath,” John said, hands on Roger’s shoulder, snapping him out of it again. 

Roger wanted to bit his lip but words tumbled out instead. “There’s something wrong with me. Something really wrong. I keep t-thinking of all these horrible things. Me doing those things. H-Hurting people and myself....Killing them...” 

He covered his mouth, his eyes growing glassy. Why did he say that? Why did he admit to being a murderer in the making?

John’s eyebrows went up at the confession, but he didn’t look disgusted or scared. He would be though. Roger was sure of that. 

John’s hands went from Roger’s shoulders to gripping the drummer’s hands in his own. The human touch felt good, but Roger didn’t deserve it. He was struggling to swallow a sob.

“That sounds like intrusive thoughts,” John said simply. His grey eyes stared into Roger’s, soft as ever. Roger expected an admittance of revulsion. A plan to force him into a psych ward. He didn’t expect that. 

Roger shook his head, not understanding. “W-What?” he stammered, his hands quaking.

“Intrusive thoughts. Just what it sounds like. Thoughts that randomly pop up into your brain that are bad. Evil. Gross. You don’t like or want them but your brain forces you to watch them anyways. They scare you. Disgust you. But you don’t have any control over ‘em,”

The more John talked, the more Roger deflated. There was a name for this? It was normal? Especially for people with OCD? Why hadn’t anyone told him that OCD and intrusive thoughts were buddy buddy? Why hadn’t anyone told him what intrusive thoughts even were?

“So, I’m not going crazy? Not going homicidal?” Roger blubbered, the tears dripping down his cheeks. He really thought he’d be the next Jack the Ripper in a year’s time. 

“You’re fine, mate. Trust me. I spend a lot of time in therapy,” John said with a small laugh, which made Roger smile a bit.

After collapsing into John’s hug and some more time talking about the phenomenon of intrusive thoughts, Roger felt so much better. He had spent months bottling up these experiences, hoping they’d go away on their own. He swore something was seriously wrong with him. To know that he was normal and not bad for thinking like this made his bones turn to jelly. John even had to drive Roger home since he was too limp with joy to manever his stick shift. 

Before parting that night, John made Roger promise him two things. 

One, to go see a therapist. Pills helped with OCD, but nothing could replace the tools and insight a therapist could give you.

And two, to relax. Roger was one of the sweetest, kindest people he knew. He wasn’t secretly evil or a creep. He was a good person. He was good. 

With a cheeky grin as he stood at the doorway, Roger said to John he could promise two but not one. After a friendly exchange of middle fingers, Roger closed to door, leaning against, taking in a deep breath.

I’m good.

What if I slammed the door on my ankle and severed it?

I’m good.

What if I threw myself in front of John’s moving car?

I’m good. 

What if I flung myself out the window?

I’m good.

I’m good.

I. Am. Good.

Roger let out a sigh, eyes closing. That was the first nice thought he had in a very long time.