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criticallyacclaimedstranger · 3 years

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Fic: What We Don't Know Can't Hurt Us

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Librarian!Reader (cishet female) meet-cute

Warnings: No warnings really, some language and mention of masturbation and sex. Reader doesn't like kids. Yearning. Frankie is a TOTAL DILF SWEETHEART. Sad ending.

Summary: Reader is a librarian who has to temp at the kids' section desk from time to time which is a pain because she doesn't like kids. And who is a regular if not a very hot, scruffy-looking dad with the very polite and mild-mannered daughter? Sparks fly but some things maybe aren't meant to be.

Words: 5,155

a/n: Just to be clear, this one doesn't end well. I just wanted to write something sad, I guess.

Oh, shit, there he is again. The Hot Dad.

You straighten a little in your chair and once again curse the fact that you’re working in the children’s section at the library: the only desk that isn’t adjustable. You prefer to do your service desk duties standing up, not only for ergonomic reasons but because you hate how patrons look down on you – literally – when you’re seated by the desk. Also, you tend to slouch and it’s not an attractive look. And at the kids’ section, you’re all supposed to work on the same level as the little tykes. And you’re not particularly keen on those.

You are, however, keen on hot dads. God knows you only get them once in a blue moon and if they show up, it’s usually in tow of a whole clan of children and a wife. But this dad has been in once before when you’ve had desk duty and you saw him stop at the shelf for picture books about divorce and pick out a few. You also heard him tell his little girl that she shouldn’t bring the books she chose to her mom’s. Divorcee, so fantasizing was even more allowed – although he probably had a girlfriend. Guys like that always do.

“You don’t want to lose them, sweetie,” he had explained patiently to his daughter. “You can keep them in your room at my place but if you take them to your mom’s there’s a risk you lose them and that means I have to pay for them. You see, we’re only borrowing these books, that’s what you do in a library.”

You had smiled an inwards smile when listening to him. There was nothing you loved more than parents who actually seemed to understand that all the material in the library was free at one simple condition: return it in time, in the same condition as you borrowed it. A lot of people did not seem to grasp this and made a huge deal when they failed to meet these conditions and were faced with late fees or even had to compensate for lost books. But when parents who knew how to use a library include their offspring, explain how it all works for them, well, that’s how you foster a new generation of good library patrons.

This dad did just that. And he was very careful with the books, prompting his daughter to be the same. Every book she pulled out of the stacks, he helped her put back in the right place. That’s practically marriage material right there and it was enough to make you weak at the knees, to be honest. After almost ten years working in a public library, you were disillusioned about people in general and their intelligence in particular. Sure, you liked your job enough to not cry in the mornings when you had to leave bed, and you did enjoy the work itself (mostly), but… having to deal with people was exhausting. Having to deal with little people even more so, and the worst was having to deal with adult people who had little people with them. Parents.

Hence your absolute obsession with Hot Dad who was soft-spoken, really good with his kid, understood to appreciate the library and its services, nodded his hello to you when passing by the desk, didn’t make a mess, clearly read to his kid regularly and encouraged her to read for herself. You just didn’t get to see people like that so often, and it triggered your interest. You allowed yourself to daydream about him.

Francisco Morales. You remember his name from his last visit, when he and the kid came up to the desk with their haul. You always encouraged patrons to use the self-service check-out (the less you had to do deal with them, the better), but for this guy you were more than willing to go the extra service mile, even with the kid staring at your every move from across the desk as you registered all the loans. You silently gave her plus points for not trying to “help” like some kids did, and for the quiet but clear Thank you she gave you without prompting from her father.

You’re busying yourself with the returns, loading them onto a cart, when you hear a soft, deep voice go Excuse me behind your back. You twirl around and see Morales, pulling his baseball cap off his head to reveal curls that would make any hair model cry of envy.

“Sorry to bother you,” he offers. Take me now, you think to yourself but instead, you give him your brightest customer service smile, the one you rarely give patrons.

“No worries, how can I help?”

“We’re looking for picture books about farm animals. You don’t happen to have those separated? I noticed you have some subject areas separated.” He gestures back towards the picture book stacks where his daughter is quietly perusing.

“We don’t, but I think we have some Julia Donaldsons available, let me come and have a look.”

You don’t always offer. With most patrons, you’d tell them to look under D for Donaldson and then smile sweetly and ask them if they’re okay to do it themselves. You can’t do everything for everyone, that way they’ll never learn. But for Francisco Morales and his well-behaved little girl, you’re absolutely willing to make an exception.

There are some Donaldsons that the girl, whose name you learn is Sofia, eagerly accepts when you present her with them.

“I love fawm animals,” she sighs happily as she browses the first one. “Do you?”

“Who doesn’t love animals?” You make the effort to small talk although communicating with kids usually makes you awkward.

“What’s youw favowite? Mine is bunny. And howses. And lambs.”

“Goats! I love goats, they’re so cute and sweet and playful.” You almost add something about goats being the devil’s favorite animal as well but manage to stop yourself in time.

“Is there something else you want to ask the librarian?” Morales asks his daughter. “If not, I’m sure she has a lot of work to do, and we shouldn’t keep her any longer.”

“I’m here to help,” you shrug and give him a little smile: not a polite, impersonal one that you’d give a patron, but a more intimate one. A flirty smile. “You just need to ask.”

The smile he gives you back is warm and grateful, and you realize that he doesn’t have different facial expressions for different people. He doesn’t work in customer service because if he did, he’d know the difference. Not that you ever thought he worked in retail or anything like that, well, maybe a hardware store, but no. He just doesn’t seem like the type. The way he moves his body suggests something a lot more physical.

Oh, you’d like to get physical with him, alright…

All the sucky library-themed pick-up lines flash through your head. Can I check you out as an overnight loan? Can I insert my private collection into your empty stacks? My reference desk or yours? Am I being too loud, well, you’ll just have to shush me with your lips. You’re like an overdue library book because you have fine written all over you.

Worst part is, if Hot Dad Morales tried any of these on you, you’d probably forgive him and go for it. Maybe. You’re really not that simple, but a girl can dream, right?

The kid thanks you and you return to the relative safety of the desk and the mundane task of alphabetizing returns. You need to calm the fuck down and act professional. Daydreaming is fine but you’re barely toeing the line.

God, you need to get laid. As if that’s something that one can remedy just by walking into a store and ordering a medium dick with a side of hands and tongue.

📚📚📚

The next time you see Francisco and Sofia Morales, you’re taking your lunch break in the small park outside the library. It’s a sunny day and you didn’t fancy sitting in the breakroom with your salad, listening to colleagues talking about who cares what. So you took your lunch box, fork, and water bottle, and went to sit on the park bench the furthest away from the swing set and sandbox. The weather is nice and you enjoy yourself and your break from the library’s chat service. You never know what you’re gonna get when you work the chat: a stupid question about opening hours which anyone could google the answer to, or something more complicated like requests for books with partial or no titles, rarities, or subject areas that you don’t know much about. That’s when you get to use your whole competence and really dig deep, think outside the box, solve problems. You love it but it’s challenging at times, and takes a lot of energy. Your outdoor break is welcome.

“Hi!”

You hadn’t noticed the girl walking up to you and the greeting startles you.

“Oh, hi.”

“We’we wetuwning the animal books,” Sofia informs you seriously. You have to smile.

“Good job. You want more of those or something else this time?”

“Mowe. Will you help me find some?”

“I’m not working the desk at the children’s section today but my colleague there will absolutely help you. Just ask her.”

Now you see Morales walking towards you from the swing set, carrying the large, flowery canvas tote that says “book bag” he always brings to the library.

“Hello,” he nods with that warm smile that he definitely gives everyone. “Sofia, don’t disturb the lady on her break. I’m sure she wants some peace and quiet before she has to go back to work.”

Jesus fucking Christ. How does this man just know shit like this?

“I’m sowwy,” Sofia immediately offers. “I wanted to say hello.”

“Don’t worry, it’s okay,” you allow, although technically, he’s not wrong. “I’m almost done. It was nice to see you. I hope you have a good visit to the library.”

“Thank you!” She skips along and Morales chuckles as he takes off his baseball cap and scratches his head, swipes his long locks out of his forehead, then puts the hat back on.

“You’re her favorite, you know,” he tells you. When you raise your eyebrow, not comprehending, he hurries to elaborate. “Of the librarians. She says you’re the best.”

“Thank you, but whatever for?” You know you do a good enough job at your usual position and that your regulars appreciate you, but you are also very aware of not being at your finest in the kids’ section.

“You have to ask her,” Morales grins as he looks out for his kid, who has returned to the swing set and is pumping her legs on the swing, brows knitted in concentration. “But she’s very taken with you. I think it’s because you’re very calm and focused with her.”

Calm and focused??? You almost laugh out loud. That’s everything you’re not when you’re at the kids’ desk.

“Thanks,” you manage, because you have to say something.

“She’s also really interested in your tattoos and I definitely think she wants to get her nose pierced now,” Morales goes on. “I told her that we don’t comment on people’s appearance, but just a heads up, she might ask you about those.”

Ah, the unpredictability of children.

“I appreciate it.” You really do. You don’t mind talking about your tattoos or the septum ring you have but if a kid suddenly asks about it, you’d rather be prepared.

“Anyway, sorry to intrude on your lunch.”

“No worries,” you reassure him. “You can… sit down for a while if you want to? I have ten minutes left.”

Your heart beats faster at your proposal. It’s not exactly appropriate but you just want to enjoy his company for a moment. And discreetly sniff him because he smells so fucking good, woodsy and smokey but with a hint of… vanilla? You’re terrible at recognizing smells but it reminds you of some aroma reeds you had a couple of years ago that smelled like a wood cabin with vanilla sugar spilled on the floor. You loved it but like everything you love, it was discontinued.

Morales looks over at his daughter before nodding, the book bag slipping down from his shoulder as he places it next to the bench.

“If you’re sure?”

“Wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t.”

He likes your straightforward answer, you can tell from how his eyes crinkle a little and how relaxed his body language is when he sits down.

“I’m Frankie, by the way,” he says, like he just remembered that introductions are a normal part of human interaction. He extends his right hand to you and as you accept it and tell him your name, you can’t help but marvel at how huge his hand is. Big, warm, slightly damp but not in a weird way.

“Nice to meet you, Frankie.” Frankie. Francisco Morales is Frankie. It suits him better than Francisco, to be honest.

“And that’s Sofia.” He points to the girl who seems content swinging by herself. You realize you’re expected to say something nice about her to the proud dad.

“She seems sweet.”

“Yeah, she’s awesome. And she loves coming to the library, it’s all she talks about when I have her.” He clears his throat and adds: “Her mother and I got divorced quite recently. I only get her five days every other week.”

“Sorry to hear that.” Shit, it’s divorce and custody talk from the start. You have no idea how to respond to that.

“That’s life,” he shrugs, “but I figured that going to the library every time I get her could be a good routine to ground her. And then we have books that we can read together for her entire stay.”

It’s definitely a good routine as far as you can tell.

“When I was between nine and thirteen years old, my dad would take me to the local library every Monday evening,” you tell him, smiling at the memory. “My dad never opened a book in his life but he patiently read the auto and tech magazines while I collected half the kids’ section with me. When I went to tell him that I was done, he always pretended to object to the amounts, but then he’d help me carry it all to the car.”

As you tell him this, you’re looking at him, no, staring at the patchy, grey-splashed beard he’s sporting. It’s the most fascinating thing you’ve ever seen. What’s the story there, why doesn’t it grow evenly? Is this a thing? You don’t have enough experience in the field of facial hair. Is it genetic? Is it always like this?

He keeps looking at his daughter as he listens to you with a small smile on his face, clearly enjoying your little anecdote.

“That’s lovely,” he says, turning his attention back to you when you’re finished. “Dads and daughters, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

You pick up your phone to check the time. Shit. You have to return to the chat.

“I gotta go. Lunch break’s over.”

You collect your things and stand up, brushing off your skirt. Frankie stands up as well and picks up the book bag.

“I’ll see you in there?”

“I’m not a the desk today.”

“Oh.” He seems disappointed, his eyes flickering from you to the ground. “That’s too bad.”

“And the kids' section isn't my primary department.”

“The bad news just keep on coming, don't they,” he jokes as the two of you start to walk towards the entrance. Sofia jumps from the swing and comes running.

“She's not at the desk today, daddy,” she tells Frankie precociously.

“I know, mija. We'll have to ask someone else about the animal books, okay?”

Sofia doesn't seem too happy with this solution but nods. You take your leave before she has the opportunity to ask about your body modifications, and disappear through a door marked “Staff Only”.

📚📚📚

The following weeks you seem to see Frankie everywhere. You run into him at the supermarket and get drafted into advicing him on what cereal to buy for his kid. “Something healthy, but good so she'll actually eat it.” How the hell should I know? you want to scoff, but you're simping for him enough to help him choose something you'd never in a thousand years touch yourself. You see him in town one afternoon when you're running errands and he suggests you grab a coffee - holy hell, in your book that's a fucking date - but you decline as kindly as you can, citing a busy schedule when in fact you're mostly just scared out of your mind. The daydream is becoming a little too real and you're absolutely not ready for that, especially not because of the kid. If it wasn't for Sofia, you could have dared the leap, but dating a guy relatively fresh out of a marriage, and with a kid to boot? No, that's asking for trouble and you don't want trouble.

One afternoon at the kids' desk, you once again get to help Sofia find books, this time on sharks.

“She went from farm animals to sharks in one week,” Frankie confides in you when the girl is sitting quietly in a reading nook, carefully studying every page and occasionally widening her eyes at what you suspect is pictures of shark teeth. “It's sharks this and sharks that. She asks if there are sharks in every body of water she sees, from the pond in the park to the ditch outside my parents' house.”

“Have her watch Jaws and she will never want to think about sharks ever again,” you suggest, earning a laugh although the idea was probably a little bit on the morbid side.

“Maybe, but that would probably scar her for life. I actually want her to learn how to swim.”

“Then best not.”

You pick up a couple of books someone else left behind on a table and make a gesture that says I have to re-shelve these, come with and Frankie follows you to the right shelf.

“You know, she talks about you as her friend at the library.”

Now, some people would find that adorable but you don't. You're not friends with this kid, you're in a position where you could possibly influence her keenness to literature and literacy but you will always risk critique from her guardians. Being a children's librarian is like a hybrid between being in customer service, and being a teacher. You get to form young malleable minds but you are always subjected to criticism, even when you've done nothing wrong. Kids are patrons, like adults, and to have them see you as friends is only going to complicate things.

“That's nice,” you reply carefully, not really sure what else to say. It's so hard to talk to parents sometimes, one wrong words and you're basically Satan, you can't know because you don't have kids yourself, how dare you not worship the ground my offspring just vomited all over?

“You're definitely her favorite librarian.”

That you can take. You have a couple of adult patrons who come in regularly and prefer to get their reading recommendations from you. They always have time to discuss literature and they bring you a box of chocolates for Christmas.

“Well, she's easy to help. She always knows what she wants and she's polite. And quite easy to please,” you smile, meaning every word. You don't mention that the only time you like kids is when they're like Sofia is right now: reading quietly in a corner, handling the books with care.

“You're my favorite librarian as well,” Frankie adds, and now that sweet smile he's always wearing when you see him is shy. There's definitely a red tinge on his cheekbones as well and it makes you want to lean forward and kiss him on his goddamn mouth with that goddamn full lower lip that he sometimes sucks into his mouth or fucking licks...

“How many librarians do you know?” you ask and manage to sound easy-going, or at least you think so. The laugh Frankie produces is low and rolling and it makes your stomach coil in on itself. Fuck him and that deep voice he rode in on!

“Got me there. It's basically you and Mrs Wilkerson, the school librarian who scared the shit out of me when I was in elementary school. She made sure I didn't step foot in a library until, well, now.”

“Oh, I so wanted to be a librarian like that when I was a kid!” You grin at Frankie's horrified expression. “No, no, hear me out! I always had this idea that those librarians led these super rich, fulfilling lives as night-time vigilantes or that they were actually millionaires who spent their free time floating around in pools with fancy drinks in hand.”

“Were you... a normal child, besides these illusions?” Frankie teases you and before you can stop yourself, you're slapping his arm playfully. Like a girlfriend would. Or someone more intimate than a Favorite Librarian, at any rate.

“I'll have you know that the voices in my head are saying that we had a very normal and healthy childhood,” you reply with as much dignity as you can muster, while desperately wishing for the phone to ring or another patron to ask for your help. But no, the ones present seem to be managing on their own - except for one mom who seemed to have overheard your joke because she is now staring at you with hesitation in her eyes.

It's Sofia who comes to your rescue with her request of being taken to the bathroom. By the time she and Frankie are done there, your colleague has come to relieve you of your duties at the children's section.

📚📚📚

You knew of course that it was coming. You may not be that experienced in the terms of dating and relationships but you weren't stupid and you had some experience: Frankie was going to ask you out. It had to happen. Technically, it had already happened that afternoon in town when he asked you out for coffee. He maybe didn't see it as a date, but you certainly did.

It happened when you had just started your shift in the children's section and it was a fucking mess. A class of kindergarteners had just left and the teachers hadn't bothered to keep them in check, so there were not only books on every available surface, they were also put in the wrong way and in the wrong places. Your colleague who you were relieving stayed behind to help you, feeling too bad to leave it all to you.

That's when Daddy and Daughter Morales showed up. You weren't really happy about the existence of kids in the first place but made an effort for Sofia, who brought you a drawing she had made in preschool that day. It featured some figures in green, slightly reminiscent of animals and one human but you wouldn't be able to tell. Luckily, Frankie explained it to you.

“She's waited all day to give you this drawing of you with goats.”

“Wow,” you manage. “Thank you, Sofia, this was so kind of you.”

The girl is beaming with pride. “Will you put it on the wall?”

“Super probably!”

“I can see you're busy,” Frankie notes and ushers Sofia along. “We won't distract you. Come on, honey, let her do her job now and maybe you'll get to talk to her later.”

You nod your thanks and focus on cleaning up the entire department before you colleague leaves and Frankie and Sofia come to the desk to borrow this week' picks. Sofia seems uncharacteristically giddy.

“Do you want to come with us to the awbowetum?” she asks with a wide, expectant smile. Fuck shit ass hell.

“We're going on Saturday,” Frankie fills in, “and we were both hoping you'd want to join?”

Saturday. Thank goodness.

“Sorry, I work on Saturday,” you say, trying to sound rueful. It's true and you're relieved about not having to lie. “But thanks, it's sweet of you to ask.”

Sofia is clearly disappointed and so is Frankie, but he masks it better.

“Some other time, yeah?”

If it were only him, you'd tell him it wasn't a good idea. But you can't say that with the kid right in front of you. You may not like kids but that doesn't mean you want to scar them for life.

“Yeah, maybe.”

You loan them the books and as they leave, Sofia waves happily at you and Frankie shoots you one last smile that makes you press your thighs together in your seat.

Come Saturday, you're by your usual desk in the section for adult fiction and you almost fall off your chair when you see Frankie come up the stairs and straight up to the desk.

“Hi.” He's had a haircut and a shave and looks different. Still good, but very different. The dark locks of his hair are more tamed. The mustache is still there but you miss the patchy beard.

“Um, hi? Where's Sofia?”

“In the car, with a friend. We're going to the arboretum.”

“Right. I hope you have a good time, the arboretum's lovely.” You still don't understand what he's doing here and he seems to have some difficulty in telling you. Moving his weight from one foot to the other, he scratches his neck and looks down - why does he have to be so freaking cute? - before looking up at you.

“About that... I wanted to apologize. I wasn't sure it was a good idea to ask you to come with, but Sofia was so persistent. She likes you so much. I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that. I'm sorry.”

“That's alright,” you brush it off because there's not really anything else you can say. “Don't think about it, just go have a good day.”

“I also wanted to ask if you wanted to go grab a drink with me. Just me. Maybe next week when Sofia's at her mother's.”

Fuck, there it is. His hopeful face makes you hate yourself for the answer you have to give.

“I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Frankie,” you begin carefully. “I'm really flattered, but you're... recently divorced with a kid. That's a lot of baggage and things could get complicated. I don't want to get caught up in that.”

You've practiced this speech at home but it still breaks your fucking heart because Frankie is so good-looking, kind, funny, and sweet. You would've asked him out yourself already if it wasn't for the baggage. Fuck, you masturbate to the thought of him, for crying out loud! You imagine what it would be like to be with him, to make dinner together and watch movies and go to bed and wake up in each other's arms. You think about sex with him a lot. You make an effort with your appearance those days you know he'll show up at the library, you don't even mind the kids' section that much anymore because you get to talk to him.

You are fucking in love with him, or at least the idea of him because you don't know much about him, only that he used to be a pilot in the special forces but now he trains new pilots, he has best friends who are like uncles to Sofia (and who have been asking about this mystery librarian she always keeps talking about), he likes cooking and loves baking with his daughter, he hates working out but knows he should take better care of himself, hell, you even know what brand of milk he buys.

He's clearly disappointed but keeps a brave face, one that you can see right through because he wears his heart on his sleeve.

“I understand that,” he says quietly, mildly. “I'm sorry, I hope I didn't embarrass you.”

Jesus fucking Christ can this man not???

“No, don't worry. I'm sorry I couldn't give you the answer you wanted. It's just... not a good time.”

Shit. You shouldn't have said that. Now he might think it could be a better time later.

Frankie nods and smiles sadly. “Yeah, you're probably right.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.”

He clears his throat and nods. “I better be going. You have a good weekend now.”

“You too.”

He shoots you one final smile before he turns around and leaves. As you watch him go down the stairs to the exit level, you just want to call his name, do your run through the airport and hurry after him, throw yourself into his arms, kiss him, Jesus, imagine that somewhere there's someone who'll get to kiss him some day, tell him that you made a huge mistake and you want to go out with him, you want to have drinks with him and dinner and breakfast and lunch for the rest of your lives because nothing would make you happier than making him happy. You want to be the reason his eyes crinkle and his cheek displays that little dimple that makes you lose your train of thought every time you see it.

But it's not for you. People with kids need to prioritize their kids and you know that you can't be anyone's number two. You don't want to get caught up in custody disputes, you don't want to be "your father's new slut", you don't want to be anyone's stepmom. You don't want to have to spend five days a week in the same house as a five-year-old. Being in a relationship is difficult enough as it is and if you can make choices that avoid some of the problems, you're going to make them, no matter how much it hurts.

And it hurts. A lot. But so much in life hurts and you've made it through before.

He must already be out the door, probably in the car. Does he say something about this to his daughter and friend? Is it a female friend? No, it must be one of his army buddies, probably one of the brothers.

You pull up Frankie's profile in the library database and see his phone number. You could call him anytime. Or send a text. Keep talking to him, flirting.

Shit. It's a bad idea.

A patron approaches the desk and you force yourself to look mild and service-minded.

“Hi, do you have Hate To Want You by someone called... Ray, I think?”

“Please hold a moment, I'll check.” You stifle the sigh that threatens to escape you and hope that the day will be busy so you won't have time to think about Francisco Morales again.

#my fic #triple frontier #francisco catfish morales #francisco frankie morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader

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oh-for-merlins-sake · 4 years

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TRICK & TREAT | fw

a/n: okay, so i KNOW we’re not exactly in october yet, but spooky season is my FAVORITE season, and i couldn’t resist. if i could have an interminable spooky season every year, my heart would sing tbh. also, side note: thank you to those who have interacted with my previous fic, or who have followed me, or who have showed me any ounce of love at all. like, i’m just hear to party and obsess over the weasley twins in the midst of all of these stellar writers. i just hope to be up to par with them someday. CHEERS! xo

pairing: fred weasley x reader (fem!reader)

word count: 3k

warnings: swearing (fred’s a potty mouth, yeah?), gets a little steamy at the end but nothing heart-stopping.

┈┈┈┈

You looked up from your dreadfully long piece of parchment in the library to gaze longingly out of a nearby window. The leaves were finally an amalgamation of bright reds and oranges, and you could almost feel the autumn breeze on your fingertips. Fall was your favorite season, and not just cause it hosted your favorite holiday.

This year, however, Snape decided that he was in no such mood for the Halloween spirit. As a result, an exceptionally long essay on potion making was due bright and early Monday morning, despite the holiday falling on Saturday — today.

You rubbed your eyes, blinking a few times to keep yourself awake, then resumed frantically scribbling on your parchment.

“And how long have you been at this, may I ask?”

You didn’t have to divert your gaze from the parchment to know exactly who was striding toward your table.

“In the middle of something, Freddie,” you mumbled.

“What, that dreadful essay for Snape?” He asked, sliding into the seat across from you.

“Yes,” you sighed, twirling your quill between your aching fingers.

“Oh, come off it — don’t let Snape ruin your Halloween. Put the quill down, and let’s get going,” he insisted, reaching for your quill.

You retracted your hand, raising your brows at him in response. “As if! I can’t fuck around, Fred. This is N.E.W.T. level Potions. He’ll toss me if I hand in anything less than exemplary.”

“The way I see it, Y/N,” he began, leaning back in his chair and propping his feet on the table, “The only reason Snape assigned this essay this weekend is because he’s a proper miserable prat. Just wants to ruin the fun for everyone, I reckon.”

You rolled your eyes, partially at Fred’s persistence, but also at Snape’s total arrogance.

“I propose that you put the quill down and come to the festival! C’mon, assigning an essay on Halloween weekend? Bloody mad, he is!”

You sighed again, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth and weighing your options.

On the one hand, you needed to do well on this essay (not that you hadn’t been doing well in Snape’s class, but given that it was Snape, one minor error could be one too many).

But on the other hand, you’d probably plucked and polished as much cluttered information from your brain as you could; and there Fred sat, beckoning you with that cheeky grin and those sweet, brown eyes to go to the Hallowe’en Festival in Hogsmeade.

“I don’t have a costume,” you said with a frown.

“Not to worry, love!”

Fred lugged his book bag onto the table with a mischievous grin, rummaging around inside and extracting various crumpled pieces of parchment, empty sweet wrappers, and the occasional contraption. Finally, he chucked a muggle entertainment magazine onto the table that was dated 1989 and began flipping through its pages.

“Dad’s latest obsession are these muggle magazines, and I found this in one of them...”

He eagerly pointed to a spread that celebrated the 50th anniversary of The Wizard of Oz. You let out a rather loud laugh (to which Madam Pince responded by shushing you both).

“What?” He whispered, giggling and playfully shoving your arm.

“You want to go as characters from The Wizard of Oz?” You shook your head, smiling sweetly.

“So you’re familiar?” He beamed at you.

“Yes, Fred, as a muggle born, I’m quite familiar with one of the most famous muggle movies of all time,” you teased.

“So you’ll go as her then?” He asked, pointing to Dorothy.

“Me? Go as her?” You asked incredulously. “I don’t have anything that would work for that costume. And I’m not so sure that anyone would recognize me without — ”

“The rest of them? Don’t worry, love, thought of that too!”

“You just think of everything, don’t you?” You quipped, narrowing your eyes.

“You’re a fucking witch, Y/N. I’m sure you’ll conjure something up,” he reminded.

You opened your mouth to counter, but he swiftly interrupted, "And if you’re concerned with anyone recognizing you, well... you’re looking at none other than Scarecrow himself.” He straightened up and tugged at his collar, wiggling his eyebrows.

You laughed again. (“Shh!”)

Fred lowered his voice, “Listen, Georgie’s gonna be the Tin Man, and Gin’s borrowing Luna’s lion’s head for the other one,” he explained. “All we’re missing is Dorothy.”

“Oh, I see,” you said, returning to your parchment with a smirk, “You just need me to complete your costume, ay?”

Suddenly, Fred plucked his wand to summon your quill from your hand to his.

“Come to the Hallowe’en festival with me, Y/N,” he insisted, tossing your dainty quill from one immense hand to the other.

You paused, glaring at him, for he knew exactly the effect he had on you.

“Fine!”

Fred punched the air in celebration before tucking your quill behind his ear and moseying out of the library.

“You’ve got two hours, Y/L/N,” he called over his shoulder.

The instant he turned the corner, you stuffed your parchment into your bag and scampered towards your dormitory. Butterflies erupted in the pits of your stomach as you pondered the possibilities of the night to come, and you felt a slow burning warmth trickle from your cheeks to the tips of your toes.

Yes, you were relieved to elude Snape’s brutal homework for the night, but deeper within you resided the covert, overwhelming desire that drove your final decision to go. After a wearisome couple of hours brimful of several twirls in front of the mirror, you ultimately decided your haphazard costume would have to do.

You’d managed to procure a white dress and pair of heels from your wardrobe, enchanting the former to mock the pattern of Dorothy’s dress and the latter to radiate a shimmering ruby red. You straightened out the hem of your dress before skipping out into the entrance hall in search of Fred.

You weaved between clusters of costumed students, noting several muggle characters along the way, including an Ariel, a Marty McFly, and even a Ghostbuster. You spotted a straw-hat poking out from above the crowd and rushed over.

“Well, good evening, Mr. Scarecrow!” You exclaimed, tapping his shoulder.

He spun around. “Bloody hell, it’s Dorothy!”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his costume, particularly the bright orange dot carefully painted on the tip of his nose. You appreciated the fact that faux freckles weren’t necessary for his costume, as his sweet speckles did the trick just fine. You were also fairly amused by George’s dingy, silver hat and Ginny’s small head being consumed by Luna’s lion contraption.

“Putting Dorothy to shame, I reckon,” Fred declared, winking down at you.

You were embarrassed at how quickly your cheeks turned color at the compliment.

The four of you nearly sprinted to Hogsmeade, bubbling over with excitement. All of Hogwarts had been feverishly babbling about the Hallowe’en Festival for weeks now, mostly because it served as an excuse to flee Umbridge’s reign of terror. When the announcement came that the shopkeepers of Hogsmeade would be hosting a festival for the students, everyone let out a collective sigh of relief that there was something outside of these walls that would provide a sense of warmth and security that had been missing as of late. It was refreshing, to say the least.

And hell, if it gave you an excuse to spend time with Fred, you surely weren’t complaining.

“Holy shit, Y/N!” Fred exclaimed, vigorously rocking you back and forth, “Bobbing for apples!”

You giggled and bounced along as he tugged you by the hand toward the festivities. George and Ginny followed suit, trailing behind with just enough space behind you and Fred.

Without hesitation, Fred sunk his head into a bucket of water in search of an apple and surprisingly succeeded on his first attempt. He resurfaced, teeth clenched around a scarlet apple, and winked at you before spitting it into his palm. You giggled at the orange paint on his nose; now smeared from the charade.

“Your turn,” he urged, taking a hearty bite from his reward.

Though you weren’t as quick at retrieving one as Fred had been, you eventually managed to reap a bright green apple from the pail. You kept the apple nicely snug between your teeth as you shook the water from your face with a laugh. You held the apple in your palm, turning it over in the moonlight, before taking a bite to indulge in its sweet and sour flavors.

Fred gently pushed back the wisps of hair that were now plastered to your forehead. You swallowed your bite and your staggering desire to taste him too.

“Shall we retrieve some sweets from Honeydukes, Freddie?” You blurted.

“‘Course,” He breathed, hand lingering on your forehead.

You quickly tossed the remnants of your apple in a nearby bin before skipping towards Honeydukes. Fred scampered behind you, laughing at the way you kept balance in your heels.

“Quit laughing at me, Weasley!” You exclaimed, arms shot out on either side of you.

Fred caught up to you and clutched your waist, murmuring, “You can hold me for balance anytime, love.”

Your heart pounded as his fingers tightened their grip before dismissing the feeling with an eye roll and a playful slap to his chest.

The two of you approached Honeydukes, which was festively adorned with strings of misty orange lights and floating jack-o-lanterns. The shopkeeper was tossing free sweets for the taking, and while Fred was able to score some with ease due to his looming height, you had to jump just to try — even in your high heels.

Fred couldn’t help but grin as you grasped at nothing, clinging to his shoulder for balance.

“What are you reaching for, love?” He asked, gently bumping his hip into yours.

“I’m just — ” You hopped again. “Trying — to get — a bloody Sugar Quill!”

Within seconds, Fred effortlessly seized a Sugar Quill and tossed it down to you. You thanked him, beaming up at him as you ripped it open.

He proceeded to catch a few more sweets, including some Chocolate Cauldrons, Pumpkin Pasties, and enough Sugar Quills to tide you over until next Halloween. You both walked aimlessly through Hogsmeade, munching on your sweets and speculating on the whereabouts of the rest of your group. You’d both decided that you’d find them later before plopping down onto a bench to finish off the last of your goodies.

Full of sugar and glee, you almost didn’t notice that Fred’s thigh was in contact with yours — the realization knocking your breath off of its steady course.

You fiddled with a wrapper as you genuinely considered trailing your fingers across his chest and pressing your lips to his under the light of jack-o-lanterns and the smell of cinnamon. You genuinely considered sending him spiraling into oblivion, just as he’d done to you at nearly every interaction. Oh, to make him go weak in the knees for once.

“Fred — ”

Suddenly, a gaggle of first-years scrambled by as Malfoy and his minions hounded them for sweets. You both snapped your heads in their direction, perturbed by the disruption.

“What do you say we put the ‘trick’ in trick-or-treat?” Fred asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

So close.

After some deliberation of the proper way to exact justice, you and Fred decided to convince some first-years to toss a few Nosebleed Nougats into their bags of sweets. You made certain that they would not touch the Nougats themselves, but that they would instead offer them up to Malfoy when he came hunting for more.

You hurried back over to Fred, who was hiding behind a shop corner, and observed the hysterical events that transpired together. You stifled your laughter as Malfoy yanked the Nougats out of the sack and split them between himself and his mates. The first years scurried away, thankful to have evaded surrendering their sweets, as the prats chewed into their Nougats.

They tossed their wrappers onto the cobblestone and scouted the area for their next victims. They were abruptly interrupted by the blood gushing out of their noses, causing you and Fred to rush into Three Broomsticks in a fit of laughter. You peered out of the window and watched as Malfoy and his mates darted towards the castle, fists pressed against their noses.

“I can’t believe we got away with that,” you admitted breathlessly.

Fred high-fived you, hand squeezing yours, as he tried to catch his breath. He led you to an empty table near the fireplace before wandering off to obtain a couple of warm Butterbeers. You sat down and rubbed your hands together, feeling the cold slowly easing from your fingertips.

“You know what’s always bugged me,” Fred began, sliding your mug across the table and removing his hat.

“Hm?” You hummed, taking a sip.

He sat down and clutched his warm mug. “Why does it have to be trick or treat? Why not both? I mean, everyone loves a good trick, and everyone loves a good treat. I’ve never understood that!”

You laughed, wiping the foam of your drink from your mouth. “You know, Freddie, you make an awfully good point! From now on, you’ll only ever hear me say ‘trick and treat’!”

“Cheers!” He laughed, clinking his mug with yours.

The two of you chatted away in Three Broomsticks for what felt like an eternity. As time passed, folks rolled in and out of the pub, and eventually you found the rest of your party. George and Ginny, along with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, joined you for some time before deciding they’d had enough festivities for one evening.

As they gathered their things and emptied their mugs, George turned to the two of you and asked, “You two coming along?”

Suddenly, Ginny grabbed George’s arm, forcefully turning him towards the door as she sang over her shoulder, “Goodnight!”

Fred chuckled, taking a swig from his drink, as you fought to suppress the cursed blush that continuously resurfaced on your burning cheeks.

Time continued ticking away as the two of you resumed conversation. It felt natural to sit with Fred, tossing back Butterbeers, bringing each other to tears from laughter, and poking and prodding at the recesses of your minds; Madam Rosmerta was less fond of it, however.

“I’m sure it’s well past your bedtime, lovebirds — out,” she declared.

The two of you gathered your belongings and giggled as you wandered back out into the streets. You caught a glimpse of the time and exclaimed, “Blimey, it’s eleven o’clock! We’ll have to sneak back into the castle at this point!”

“I know a way back,” Fred said with a smirk.

He led you by the hand to a secret passageway tucked in an alley where he assured you it was a safe escape to Hogwarts. You had your doubts about the secrecy of this tunnel, feeling uneasy at the thought of Filch ensnaring you after-hours; but Fred insisted. And if it meant prolonging your evening with Fred, then you had no choice but to follow.

As you crept down the tunnel towards Hogwarts by the guiding light of Fred’s wand, you gently bumped into his side, conspicuously brushing your hand against his. You normally wouldn’t feel so bold, but after the sheer volume of Butterbeer that you’d consumed, you felt particularly daring at the moment.

Fred grinned down at you and gently bumped you back. You stumbled a bit in a fit of giggles that Fred echoed as he snagged your hand in his.

“Easy there, Y/L/N, don’t want you tumbling down the tunnel!”

You took advantage of the opportunity to boldly intertwine your fingers with his. You rested your head on his arm and mumbled, “I’m tired, Freddie...”

“We’re almost there,” he said, fighting a grin and squeezing your hand.

The two of you continued walking for quite some time like this. The remainder of the walk was mostly silent — not because neither of you had anything to say, but mostly because you each had so much to say and ruminated on exactly how to say those things.

Your thoughts raced through your addled brain a million miles a minute, and as you approached the Hogwarts corridor, you cursed yourself for not saying something sooner.

“You fall asleep over there?” Fred chuckled, nudging your head softly with his arm.

You peered up at him lovingly before straightening up to face him. With your fingers still tightly wound around his, you whispered, “Freddie...”

“Y/N,” he playfully whispered back.

You giggled.

“That was a good trick we played earlier, don’t you think?” You asked, taking a step closer.

“One of my finest yet,” he replied, struggling to form full sentences given your proximity.

“And you know what they say...” You said.

“What do they say, Y/N?” He teased, using his free hand to tuck a loose strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Trick and treat... so how’s about a treat?”

Suddenly, you closed the space between the two of you and locked your lips with his. Your lips moved slowly together, almost in shock that this was actually happening. He released your hand in order to use both of his to hold the back of your head, and you stood on your tiptoes to deepen the kiss as you wrapped your hands around his neck.

When your lips parted, you almost whined at the separation.

“That was the best treat yet,” he said with a wink, running his hands down your waist and giving you a squeeze.

You bit your lip and led him down a quiet hallway. “I know I’m supposed to say something like, ‘There’s no place like home,’ but honestly...” you trailed off, stopping in front of a vacant classroom. “I’d much rather be in here.”

Fred’s eyes widened with hunger as you backed him into the classroom, kicking the door shut behind you.

Fred lifted you onto a nearby desk and sighed, “I love Halloween.”

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley imagine #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #fred weasley x you

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kikis-writing-world · 4 years

Text

Sunflowers and Pink Roses

A/N: Full disclosure: I’ve never seen The Mentalist. Anything I know about Marcus is from y’all on here. So I know he’s sweet, romantic and deserved better™. I dunno, I had this fluffy idea and it just seemed him... apologies if I got his characterization way off since this is basically the fic version of broken telephone.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Female Reader

Word Count: ~1700

Rating/Warnings: PG - It’s super tame, I only even say PG because I think there’s one F-bomb in it. Also not thoroughly edited as usual.

Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day and you’re still painfully single. Marcus happens to notice.

It was February.

More specifically, the second week of February.

February 14th to be exact.

Valentine’s Day.

You wouldn’t say you hated the holiday, but there weren’t a lot of days that strived to remind you just how single you were. You didn’t mind being single most of the time. You were a strong independent woman raised on Charlie’s Angels, Princess Leia, Miss Piggy. Like Destiny’s Child sang, “I depend on me!” You didn’t need a man to depend on for your happiness.

All of that didn’t stop you from watching those stupid Hallmark Romcoms with glossy eyes and an open yet slightly broken heart. You selfishly wanted someone who would look at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. Someone who would send you good morning and good night texts, buy you little trinkets just because. Not to mention you wanted someone to do the same for. Someone you would think about during the day with a secret smile. You had all the love to give, just nowhere to direct it. At least not yet.

So on February 14th, you plastered the smile on your face with a little more force than usually needed. The water cooler gossip was mostly about who had what reservations where, what lovely things they had planned for the evening. You ignored the red and pink hearts hanging festively along the walls, trying to focus instead on the fact that tomorrow there would be a massive sale on candy and chocolates. Just keep your head down and make it through this one day.

The first bouquet arrived with a ding of the elevator, barely past ten in the morning. It was a modest bouquet of whites and reds. All eyes watched it as the delivery was carried through the office and placed on a coworker’s desk. A gift from her husband. The women fawned over the bouquet and you even offered a polite smile to Jenna, but ultimately turned back to work to tune it out.

The next gift was barely 30 minutes later: a white teddy bear carrying a heart-shaped box of chocolates with a balloon tied around it’s waist deposited on Petra’s desk.

Then chocolates for Selena.

Roses for Anton.

Bouquet for Rhonda.

Cookies for Tanya.

You lost count, but you couldn’t help but watch with envy as each gift was carried past, giggles and chatter following it. Maybe next year.

~☆*☆*☆~

Marcus loved Valentine’s day. He loved it more when he had someone to share it with, someone to dote on, but he still loved the sentiment behind it nonetheless. He watched from his office with a smile each time a new gift was deposited on someone’s desk. The happiness he felt carried a small sting, a reminder of the relationships of the past, but it faded fairly quickly as he shared in the happiness of his coworkers.

He had thought about trying to find a date for the night, trying out one of those dating apps he always heard about, but it felt forced. He wanted that romance but he wanted it organically. He wanted to meet someone at his local coffee shop or at a museum. In a library or at the park. Shy conversations while he worked up the nerve to ask for her number. Wondering how long to wait until he called. Worrying about how many dates until it was acceptable to kiss her. Despite the pain of past heartbreak, he knew when the time was right he’d find the one.

He watched with another grin as a massive, bright bouquet of pink, red and orange flowers was carried through the office. It was a little much for his tastes, he preferred something small that made a statement. He held pride in finding out his partner’s favorite flower or colour, using that information to personalize a gift like that.

As he watched the bouquet cross the floor to Indira’s desk, his eyes fell to your face. Your desk was opposite the windows to his office, so it wasn’t uncommon for his eyes to fall on you as he worked. Even through the window and across the 10 feet or so to your desk, he could read your expression like a book. You watched the flowers pass with a wistful envy before offering Indira a tight smile. You turned back to your work, smile falling and a crease appearing on your brow. Marcus was familiar with that expression because he had definitely made it before.

He leaned up in his chair, trying to sneak a look at your desk. He didn’t see flowers, stuffed animals, chocolates. Nothing left there by a loved one to brighten your day. He leaned back, trying to think if any of the office gossip he’d heard recently mentioned if you had a partner. He knew you weren’t married, not that he’d ever admit to subtly checking your hand for a wedding ring. He was technically your boss, your direct superior, and he knew first hand how messy dating a coworker could get. Yes, he thought you were pretty. And funny. And charming. And had a smile that could light up the room- He’d convinced himself plenty of times not to pursue it further, not wanting to get tangled in another workplace romance.

He didn’t know how long he was lost in thought, but as the elevator dinged with another delivery he watched the resigned envy cross your face once more.

~☆*☆*☆~

The end of the day was nearing. You’d been wondering earlier this morning if you could get away with sneaking out a little early. Luckily the deliveries had slowed down around 2:00, along with the fanfare that came with them. You just had to get through the next 30 minutes and you could head home, put on sweats, and eat the cookie dough that was waiting in the fridge.

A ding from the elevator had you look up, yet another beautiful bouquet walking through the room. It wasn’t as extravagant as some of the ones that had come through today, but it had an understated elegance to it. The sunflowers seemed to glow around the delicate pink roses, a beautiful combination sitting in a clear vase with a white ribbon tied around it. You weren’t sure who they were for, it seemed most of the desks in the office already had flowers or gifts of some kind on it. You were shocked when you heard the young delivery boy say your name. Mary Ellen smiled brightly and pointed your way.

You could feel the heat creeping up your neck as you noticed everyone’s eyes on you, a few of the women bold enough to follow the teen over to your desk. You nodded dumbly as he confirmed your name, setting the flowers down with a mumbled “happy Valentine’s Day.”

“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone!” Selena cooed, brushing her hand lightly against the flowers.

“I-I’m not.” You shook your head, staring at the beautiful flowers.

“A secret admirer?” Mary Ellen gasped, holding her hands under her chin. “That’s so romantic.”

“Is there a card?” Rhonda asked.

“Here!” Selena had found the little piece of cardstock among the stems, handing it over.

You bit your lip as you opened it, having no idea what to expect. You didn’t recognize the penmanship, but it could have easily been written by the florist.

~☆*☆*☆~

“Are you for real?” The guy on the phone laughed, his thick accent mocking Marcus. “It’s the second busiest day of the year and you wanna place an order now? You must be really stupid if you forgot Valentine’s Day.” The man continued to laugh.

“Look, I need it delivered before 5:00.” This was the fourth place he’d called, most of them laughing and hanging up on him. “Is that something you can do?”

“Oooh, that’s gonna cost ya. Big.”

“That’s fine.” Marcus sighed, leaning over to pull his wallet out of his back pocket.

“Okay, we don’t got much left-”

“Sunflowers?” Marcus asked. He wasn’t even sure what drew him to that flower at first, the request was out of his mouth before he really thought about it.

“Gimme a sec.” The man told him, gruff voice fading as Marcus heard him yell. “Hey Martha! We got any sunflowers left?”

Marcus tapped his foot impatiently as he heard the back and forth on the other end of the line.

“Martha’s got sunflowers. Says she’s got a few extra pink roses she can throw in with ‘em. That work?”

“Yes! Perfect!”

“Whatd’ya want on the card?”

“The card?” Marcus parroted. He hadn’t thought about writing anything.

“You’re orderin’ a last minute bouquet, you better become Shakespeare real fuckin’ quick if you wanna stay out of the doghouse, loverboy.”

“Uhh…” He stuttered trying to find the right words.

“I ain’t got all day.” The man huffed. “Second busiest day of the year.” He reminded him.

“Uh, make it say… uh…”

~☆*☆*☆~

“Some may be intimidated by your shine But someone will come along and make you shine even brighter And they will be worth the wait”

“Wow.” Rhonda swooned. “That’s so sweet.”

“Is it signed from anyone?” Selena asked.

“No. That’s it.” You shrugged, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. It was beautiful.

“Oooh, secret admirer! Mary Ellen, you were right!” Rhonda sang. “This is so exciting.”

“Who do you think it is?” Anton leaned over from his desk to ask. You hadn’t even realized he was listening in.

“I-I have no idea.” You stuttered. It was true. “I wish I knew, so I could thank them or something.”

“Something alright.” Selena purred, making everyone shriek and giggle as you flushed.

“Alright, what’s going on here?” The voice cut through the giggles, making everyone sober up. Marcus was standing just outside his office door, hands in his pockets.

“Nothing. Just some Valentine’s Day magic.” Rhonda trilled. The giggles resumed, much quieter this time, as everyone fluttered back to their own desks to return to work.

“Sorry.” You bit your lip, embarrassed that the excitement had disrupted your boss.

“It’s okay.” Marcus chuckled, toeing at the carpet of the office for a moment. “Just don’t let it happen again.” He teased with a grin, putting you at ease.

“Yessir, Special Agent Pike.” You mock saluted, making him chuckle.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“You too.”

tagging: @wickedfrsgrl

#Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x Reader #Marcus Pike x Female Reader #Marcus Pike Imagine #The Mentalist Fanfic #Marcus Pike Fanfic #Pedro Pascal Character fanfiction #WookieTales #Actually super nervous to post this one #because my lack of familiarity with the source #so like hope you like it?

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modern-vellichor · 3 years

Text

Darling, You're Hopeless

Summary: You and Loki are seemingly always on the run. One day Loki is forced to leave you, and Steve takes care of you while he's gone.

Warnings: smoking, cigarettes, mentions of blood, handcuffs?, needles, loki fluff, steve being a good friend, mostly fluff.

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Reader

Dating the villain isn't as bad as it seems, especially when you are one in the same. They knew you only as Hestia, except you weren't a God, not like him. They knew that you flirted with flame like it was an old friend, hence the nickname. You were the first one they called when he ended up in their grasp. It had taken a week of persuasion from Tony and Cap to convince Thor to contact you.

You were nice when you arrived. You stepped out of the cab in very mortal clothes. Cap noticed how generously you tipped the driver. You shook everyone's hand when you came in, even gave Peter a soft, motherly smile and a pat on the head. When you were talking with Tony and Steve you were nothing but mannerly. You didnt hesitate in declining a call in the middle of your meeting. You shook your head and apologised upon hearing of Loki's actions. Then politely asked to see him, and they didnt see why not.

"My Darling, Hestia. You dont know how happy I am to see you", he said, drool dripping from the corner of his mouth after the gag was removed.

"I know, baby", you whispered, wiping his chin with your thumb.

The two of you spoke for a while, Tony and Steve watching intently. Then you flicked your hand beside your head, a lit cigarette appearing between your fingers. You took one long drag, and exhaled. Smoke filled the room, obscuring their view. When they burst in, the two of you were gone and the room had been set ablaze.

They should have known.

Your house in Missouri was secluded. You hid there, you and Loki. You lived an almost normal life. You had groceries delivered to the house and spent your days lounging around. You had work to do, and Loki kept himself busy.

One late afternoon you heard knocking on your door. You opened it without thinking and next minute Steve Rogers was shoving his way into your entry hall. You stopped him before he reached the door to the living room, clamping a hand over his mouth.

"Y/N, Darling?", Loki called out. "Is everything alright? Who's at the door"

"Everything's fine, baby. It's just an old friend. We're going for a walk." You answered nonchalantly.

You shoved Steve into the cool afternoon air. You didnt say a word until the two of you had walked to the next block.

"So, Y/N?" He asked lazily.

"You don't get to call me that." You spat in return.

You had worked so hard on keeping private and safe. And now everything had been compromised. For all you know there could be 20 S.H.I.E.L.D agents at your home for Loki while Steve distracted you.

You took a deep breath. "What do you want, Mr. Rogers?"

"I want to make a deal"

"What deal?"

"Keep your boyfriend distracted long enough until we have precautions in place to defeat him should anything,,,happen. We have Intel that Loki is planning an attack on the Avengers and we dont need another problem right now"

"Will those precautions involve killing him?", you asked sadly.

"No"

"Then you have a deal"

"Pleasure doing business with you"

From then on Steve made a visit every month. He promised not to tell any of the other Avengers of your location. You had begun to enjoy your monthly walks. Until one day Steve rapped at your door and you opened it, teary eyed and distraught.

"He's gone and I dont know where he is", you rambled hastily. "Steve you've got to help"

Steve was quick to get to straight to New York. He left you stranded in a concrete room while he searched the city for Loki. Eventually he came to let you out, and guided you to a plain but comfortable looking cell. In it was an angry looking Loki who was pacing. He had a cut on his temple and a bruise forming on his cheek. You sighed in relief and tapped on the glass. The two of you spoke quietly for a few minutes before your hands were being held behind your back.

Loki put up a fight as you were lead away in cuffs and chains. But you went quietly. You made small remarks to Steve, you was hesitantly leading you to a cell of your own. He had done so much for you, the least you could do was cause him no trouble. And even in captivity, Steve took care of you. He snuck you books to read and journals to write in. He took letters and notes to Loki, and brought you his in return. And after a few months of lonely captivity, you asked Steve a final favour.

He had come to bring you dinner when you grabbed his arm, looking into his eyes with a pleading look.

"Steve please. Allow us to share a cell. I worry what Loki will do, should he be left alone any longer"

He walked you to Loki with your hands tied behind your back. The first thing that Loki did was embrace you, your hands not yet free. Before Steve could remove your restraints, you gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and passed a little note to him.

Steve came to visit you in the evenings. You both hated to admit it, but you had become good friends. Should things have been different, you would have turned to him for advice.

Steve liked his evening visit. You and Loki read aloud as you lay with each other. While you liked to recite poetry and other dramatic readings, Loki preferred to read classic literature. Steve vividly remembers a poem you recited about icarus. He remembers you being so passionate about changing the narrative of the story of Icarus, and it had worked. Steve never saw that tale in the same light.

One evening Steve brought you and Loki your food. You came to retrieve your plates from the little hatch. You were muttering an apology before he even realised what was happening. He only felt the needle as you were pulling it out of his hand. On a normal man, that amount of tranquilizer would knock him out for days. But with serum raging through his veins, it merely immobilized Steve. It was enough though. You and Loki crawled out of the confines of your cell. With the walls behind you, Loki was finally able to get the both of you out of there.

Your holiday home in Italy was a lot nicer anyway.

Neither of you were working very hard in Italy. The two of you spent your days walking around in the summer sun, or spending your afternoons curled up in bed with each other. Loki was soft behind closed doors. Soft and loving, gentle and caring. Although you weren't allowed to tell anyone that. You lived like this for a few, happy months.

Then one night you were curled up, asleep. Loki's hand rubbing comforting circles on your stomach. You didn't wake up when the lock on your front door clicked, nor when the thudding up the stairs began. You still kick yourself for it. You only startled awake when your bedroom door was kicked in, a sad group of Avengers standing where it would have been. You immediately scrambled to hide your lover from the group of angry heroes. Steve had an emphatic look on his face, he met your pleading eyes with sorrow.

"Steve", you whimpered. "Please. I'm begging you. Don't do this"

You gave Loki a loving squeeze on the thigh. That was the signal. Within seconds he had disappeared, and you were left alone with tears in your eyes.

"Can I at least get dressed before you lot kidnap me", you spat.

Most of the group ambled pathetically downstairs, all but Steve.

"I'm sorry." He stated, sitting at the edge of your bed. His gaze trained at the floor while you dressed.

"I'm sure you are"

"I'll take good care of you, until Loki gets back"

Should those words have fallen from any others mouth, you would have thought them a threat. But on his lips, it was a kind gesture. You smiled at your unlikely friend, and things felt a small bit better.

Months went by. Every day you woke up in that God forsaken compound wishing that Loki would arrive to collect you. And each day you were disappointed. But there were little things to make up for it.

The young Avenger. Peter, you had grown close with him. And even though you were as stubborn as a mule, and refused to help, Stark could not kill you, you were simply too valuable. So you had the run of the library. You memorized poem upon poem for the day your lover returned. You knew in your heart one day he would.

Eventually your incessant complaining grew too much for Stark. So he allowed Steve to take your for walks. The two of you would walk Peter home from school sometimes.

It was on one of these trips that a familiar voice rang in your ear. The familiar call of "Darling" lingered in the air as you almost fainted. Sure enough, when you turned around he was there. Notably a fair bit skinnier. You weren't sure if this was really him or an apparition. When you embraced him you found him to be solid. Peter and Steve stood awkwardly as the two of you reunited.

"you have to go, god knows what they'll do if they find you," you say, pulling away from him with tears in your eyes.

You run your hands down his chest, straightening his shirt and fixing his jacket.

"come with me, please, darling. You have to, I need you," he begs. His eyes are soft and pleading.

Peter is standing behind you, he watches in fear. He's heard of Loki and the damage he's done, although he isn't scared of the Loki that you tell stories of, he's definitely afraid of the one standing a few feet ahead of him.

Steve watches out of the corner of his eye as Peter reaches for his phone and begins to call Tony. Steve grabs the device and crushes it in his hand. Peter begins to protest but Steve's quiets him quickly.

"Does that look like a man who's gonna hurt someone?" He whispers angrily, gesturing at the frail and weak Loki. "He's not here for revenge, he's here for her"

Suddenly you turn around to look at Steve, teary eyed. You look at him imploringly, silently begging him to let you go with Loki.

Steve smiles at you sadly, he raises his hand and waves at you.

Your eyes go wide in shock and disbelief.

Steve nods and shoos you away with his hand, turning around a pulling Peter with him.

You both look back one last time and you mouth a Thank You at the blond. He just nods and turns around again.

When he looks one last time you're gone. But he knows he'll see you again, and hopefully you'll have turned Loki into a better man. Or maybe he'll have corrupted you equally as much. Steve didn't try care. He'll miss his friend, and you will too.

#loki laufeyson #loki #loki odinson #loki fluff #loki fanfic #loki x reader #loki layfeyson x reader #loki odison x reader #steve fluff #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers

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4kominato · 4 years

Text

Part I: The Older Brothers

Part II: The Younger Brothers

A/N: Hi friends... first of all... if you thought this blog was SFW i apologize, it’s not 😃 im very much a hoe. Second, yes, I’ve been mostly posting drawings, but I also enjoy writing so I’ll be posting these kinds of reactions and scenarios every now and then, mostly for Obey Me and probably Daiya. I’m not taking requests as of now but eventually, I might so stay tuned! I was originally gonna post all together, but it was getting kinda long ;) and also I was just too excited to post after I finished Satan’s LMAO. I finished Belphie but still working on Asmo and Beel so I’ll be posting the younger bros later ^-^

DESCRIPTION: Female MC making the brothers hard for the first time. Assume MC x Demon are in a fairly new relationship. [[NSFW below]]

(Word Count: 511)

It’d been roughly two months since you’d first confessed to the eldest of the demon brothers, Lucifer. The two of you have since, become official, and Lucifer made it very clear to his brothers that you were now his. Considering it was still pretty early in your relationship though, the two of you hadn’t been too intimate yet, but having already been a few months, you felt that it was time for that to change.

The other week, there was a huge sale on Akuzon and you happened to stumble across a good deal on a cute lingerie set. Unable to shake the thought that it’d be a good way to test the waters with your new boyfriend, you went ahead and bought it.

“What brings you here?” Lucifer answered the door shortly after you knocked.

“Can I sleep here tonight? There was a bug in my room,” you lied, looking up at him innocently.

“Oh?” he chuckled, raising an eyebrow at you, “Shall I go and kill it for you?”

“I mean… I’m already here so there’s no need. Plus I have no idea where it went, it probably crawled somewhere,” you reasoned as you pushed past him and welcomed yourself into his room.

“Well, alright then,” he finally agreed as he shut the door, “And where exactly do you plan to sleep?”

“Um, in your bed… with you,” you smiled pleadingly, hoping he wouldn’t put up too much of a fight.

“And who gave you permission to do that?”

“Hmm… me?”

“I see you’re being bold,” he smirked, stroking his fingers through your hair, “I guess since you’re my girlfriend now, I can’t say no to that suggestion.”

“Yay! I love you,” you giggled, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“I love you, too,” he grinned before leaning forward and pressing his lips against yours.

“Hey, Luci,” you mumbled into the kiss.

“Hm?” he hummed softly in response.

“Can I show you something?”

“Of course.”

Pulling away from him, you took a step back before beginning to unbutton your shirt. About two buttons down, you were stopped by a hand gripping your wrist and you were met with a slightly flushed, wide-eyed Lucifer.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked awkwardly whilst trying to still sound stern.

“Showing you the ‘something’ that you agreed I could show you. Do you disagree now?”

“Uh well, not exactly...”

“Don’t worry, we’re not gonna do anything. This is just an exhibition,” you teased as you proceeded against the force on your wrist to finish unbuttoning your shirt.

He gulped as you slid the garment off your shoulders and let it fall to the ground, his cheeks turning an even brighter shade of red as he drank in the sight of your lace adorned breasts. Smirking to yourself, you reapproached him and slung your arms around his neck, your thigh rubbing up against the bulge forming in his pants.

“Excited are we? I haven’t even shown you the bottom half yet.”

“It’s been a few hundred years, alright… give me a break…”

(Word Count: 500)

Classes at RAD were finally finishing up, and what better way to celebrate than a pool party? Diavolo had planned it, of course, inviting all the demon brothers, the other exchange students, and even their friends from the Celestial Realm.

Over the course of the semester, you took a particular liking to Mammon, and despite him denying it for the longest time, about a week before finals, he finally admitted that he liked you too. You were both looking forward to spending more time together at the pool party and having a good time now that you finally didn’t have to worry about school.

Arriving at the pool, you were immediately met with Diavolo who greeted you and welcomed you to the gathering. You saw that mostly everyone had arrived already and you were probably the last. It didn’t take you too long to spot Mammon’s silver hair and tan skin in the crowd so without hesitation, you started making your way over to him.

“Hi Mammon,” you said shyly, interrupting his conversation with his brothers.

“He- WHOA!” he exclaimed as he turned to look at you, his eyes wide as ever seeing you in your bikini. “Uh… hey guys, excuse me for a sec, would ya?” he said nonchalantly as he stood up and quickly dragged you away to the nearest room he could find.

“Oi! What do ya think you're wearing?!” he blurted pinning you to the door, “Or like… why aren’t you wearing more?”

“It’s a bikini, Mammon, because this is y’know, a pool party…?” you mocked, furrowing your eyebrows at him.

“Grr… pool party my butt, you can’t be goin’ out there in front of all those guys wearin’ that. Especially not around Asmo, he might get all touchy, grabby y'know.”

“What about you? I’m sure you want some touchy, grabby action right now don’t you?” you teased, knowing he was just being jealous and possessive.

“Me?! No way, I ain’t nothing like Asmo, I can definitely control myself around a human.”

“Oh? But I think that predicament in your trunks say otherwise.”

“Oi! W-why’re you lookin’ down there?” he blushed, finally letting go of his grip on you as he turned his body away.

“I was just taking a peak at your body… and then my eyes kinda just… slipped,” you feigned innocence as you walked up to him, your hands stroking over his toned abs as you quickly went in for a kiss.

“You better not tell the others about this…” he said shyly, finally giving in and wrapping his arms around you, his hands going straight to your ass.

“I mean… they probably already have their suspicions considering you dragged me away… alone…”

“WHAT?!”

“Shh! Calm down, babe… if we're already here, we might as well make good use of the situation, right? I know you want to.”

“Uh… I mean… I suppose… but only because we’re already here…” he agreed shyly, his cheeks still flushed as he avoided eye contact with you.

(Word Count: 513)

“Levi…” you whined as you laid sprawled out on his bed, “When are you gonna be done with that game?”

“Hold on… I’m almost done…” he replied, his attention still fixed on his screen.

“That’s what you said thirty minutes ago!?”

“No, I’m serious this time.”

“Ugh…”

Growing impatient, you peeled yourself off his bed and made your way towards him, sitting down right next to him on the sofa, as close as you possibly could. Leaning against him, you turned to look at him, intently gazing at him as he continued to play his game.

“Levi, why are you ignoring me?” you whispered into his ear before pressing soft kisses along his neck, wrapping your arms around one of his and hugging it close to your body.

“I-I’m not… I’m just trying to finish this up really quick...” he stuttered, still trying his best to concentrate on his game, but now that you were all over him and distracting him, he was failing miserably.

“You are though…” you pouted at him, leaning your head against his when he refused to look at you.

As hard as he tried to ignore it, on top of you leaning on him, he couldn’t help but notice the feeling of your boobs pressing against his arm. It was embarrassing for him to admit it, but in all honesty he had thought of you in ‘that way’ many times before, but never while you were around. After all, you were his girlfriend so he couldn’t really help it, but he didn’t wanna be making advances if you weren’t on the same page as him.

“Babe… are you okay?” you giggled, noticing his face was now as red as a tomato.

“Yeah! I’m perfectly fine!” he lied, biting his lip as he struggled to retain his focus.

You hadn’t really noticed how badly he was doing in his game until suddenly, the words ‘Game Over’ appeared in huge letters on the screen.

“Gah!” he exclaimed as he let his console fall to the ground, his hands immediately going up to cover his face as he threw his head back, “Dammit…”

As your eyes went down from the game console on the ground, then back up to Levi, you were suddenly stopped in your tracks by a noticeable tent in his pants. You could feel your face flush a little at the realization that you must’ve been the cause, but to say it wasn’t a little flattering would’ve been a lie.

“Levi…?” you started, a playful tone in your voice as an uncontrollable smirk spread across your lips. You knew it would embarrass him to point it out, but could you really pass up the opportunity to have a little fun with him? “Could this be why you lost your game?” you giggled as you gently poked at his bulge.

“EEK!” he squealed as he scrambled to find something to cover himself, avoiding eye contact with you once he did, “I-it was all your fault…”

“Oh was it? I’m sorry, Levi… want me to fix it?”

“F-fix it...??!”

“Mhm.”

*nose bleed, hyperventilates, dies*

(Word Count: 508)

“Satan,” you called softly, finding him sitting on one of the sofas in the library reading a book.

“Oh, hi,” he greeted with a smile, gesturing for you to sit with him, “How’d you know I was here?”

“Where else? We don’t have classes right now, but you weren’t in your room… I figured you must have your nose in a book though, and what’s the one place full of books besides your room?”

“Ah, I see. So you’re good at logical reasoning.”

“Of course, I learned from the best!” you smiled, nudging him suggestively. “Watcha reading anyways?” you asked before resting your head on his shoulder.

“Just a book about humans… it’s possible that a certain human may have sparked a deeper interest in my knowledge of them…”

“A certain human you say?! Are you talking about… Solomon?”

“Are you really making me state the obvious?” he whined as he shook his head at you.

“Alright fine, I won’t,” you giggled before pressing a kiss to his cheek, “By the end of that book, you’ll probably know more about humans than me.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well… I was never really a good student...”

“Really? You seem to be doing well in your classes here.”

“Maybe that’s because... I’ve taken a liking to demons.”

“Is that so?” Satan chuckled, putting his book down for a moment to flirt back with you.

“Mhm… or maybe a certain demon,” you smirked as you pressed your lips against his. He didn’t let the kiss last long, smiling at you lovingly as he pulled away and holding his book back up to his face, “Are you gonna let me finish reading now?”

“Hmm… we’ll see…”

Shifting yourself slightly away from him, you positioned yourself in a way that you could rest your head in his lap. Once you’d made yourself comfortable, you looked up at him, finding that he was already looking at you, his cheeks flushing as he awkwardly broke eye contact with you and reverted his focus back to the book. You giggled at how embarrassed you were making him, continuing to gaze up at him while he read.

“Stop staring at me…” Satan stated as he shifted slightly in his seat.

“I can’t stare at my boyfriend?”

“You’re distracting me.”

“I didn’t necessarily agree to letting you finish your reading.”

“Ergh…” he growled in frustration, thinking he should just try harder to ignore you.

“By the way, your lap is becoming oddly uncomfortable,” you teased, feeling his stiffening bulge pressing up against the back of your head as you continuously squirmed around in his lap.

“Maybe you should stop moving around so much then…”

“Maybe you should stop reading.”

“Maybe you’re right,” he finally complied, quickly shutting his book and placing it on the small table in front of him, “I suppose the best way to learn about humans is from the humans themselves.”

“Are you suggesting… Solomon should give you a lesson about humans?”

“At this rate, I’ll be giving you a lesson about demons instead.”

#sorry if its shitty #this is my first scenario thing for om #im trying my best ok #obey me!#obey me! shall we date?#obey me! reaction #obey me! smut #obey me! lucifer #obey me! mammon #obey me! leviathan #obey me! satan #lucifer smut #mammon smut #leviathan smut #satan smut

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thatcartoonnetworkblog · 3 years

Text

Comic Review: Cartoon Network Presents #6

I said I was gonna do this, so let’s get this rolling!

Okay, so Cartoon Network Presents was among the first lineup of DC’s CN comics, alongside their Scooby-Doo book and The Flintstones and the Jetsons. Those are pretty self-explanatory, but CN Presents was meant to be a grab bag of the rest of their lineup, featuring favorites from the vast Hanna-Barbera library as well as some of their recent hits. At this point, I believe they were just doing Dexter’s Lab and Cow & Chicken, as Johnny Bravo’s first season was more or less written off as a failure at the time. But don’t worry, Johnny will have his day.

Okay, so confession time- this story is not new to me. Way back when, DC released a freebie comic which had stories from each of their three CN titles, and this was featured in there, alongside a short Scooby story where a stalker keeps on doning a costume to get closer to Daphne, and a Jetsons story where George is replaced by a robot version of himself. Needless to say, some serious memories came crawling back to me when I saw the cover.

Anyway, both of the stories featured in this issue are done by regulars in the comic industry, and I’ll bring up how apparent that is in a bit,

That said, I can see this story actually fit in an episode of Cow & Chicken, as it’s a cautionary tale that doesn’t go in the usual direction you’d expect, like many of David Feiss’ cartoons tend to do things. This starts off with Chicken littering, which goes against what his and Cow’s teacher taught them in school. Chicken, as per usual, is apathetic to his loud teacher’s learnings, but he changes his tune when Cow mentions that bringing in metal can bring you some change,

Needless to say, Chicken has some ideas, and he starts scourging around town. There’s a slight detour when he learns that you only receive payments from going to the trash collector directly, but it gives him incentive to have Flem and Earl help him out.

Alongside a dubious reading of Malcolm X’s philosophy.

The three of them find enough metal to hopefully make them a little richer, and they’re greeted at the trash heep by a weird looking Cerberus creature, and guess who they belong to!

Yeah, it’s the Red Guy. It’s not a Cow & Chicken segment without him, is it?

I had a better screenshot of his appearance, but it came out weird and I don’t feel like taking another, so let’s skip to this part where Chicken is caught cheating the scale, and is about to be rightfully punished along with Flem and Earl. Not by death, but by filling up the Red Guy’s furnace, which is actually pretty fair.

But have no fear, Supercow is on the way to come save the day! This comic even translates her dialogue for us, which the show never did.

It ends with her beating the shit out of Cerberus and the Red Guy, even though Chicken deserves his punishment. Flem and Earl, not so much.

It’s a fun enough story, and it does seem like a perfect fit for the show. The dialogue fits right in with the show.

Even Flem’s awkward, vaguely racist broken English. I’m not touching that one...

The art style is a little off, though, looking more like a regular DC comic than an episode of Cow & Chicken.

I mean, it looks like Chicken, but doesn’t the penciling look closer to an issue of Robin at the time instead of something? But it’s a minor complaint, as it’s still a fun read.

The b story is new to me, with a Quick Draw McGraw story. It starts off pretty ordinary, as El Kabong OLE’s himself to save the day. Er, not that ordinary, as El Kabong is a bit of a klutz and usually needs Baba Looey’s help, but it’s okay, something’s about to change.

It turns out that El Kabong’s identity may be liable for copyright infringement, as there’s a Canadian crime fighter known as Le Kabong.

We meet him here, and I believe he’s meant to be Loopy de Loop, but he looks more like Hokey Wolf... or maybe Mr. Jinx. Hanna-Barbeta made some nice-looking characters, but they get pretty samey.

Anyway, his agency was the one who ordered a cease and desist to El Kabong, while his French Canadian doppelganger refuses to follow suit, considering it unheroic. Until it’s discovered that someone kidnapped the local hockey team, and he takes action... so I guess he blames the devil we know? That isn’t really explained, as the next panel shows Quick Straw accepting a battle of the Kabongs.

So we’re about to get a WWE (or I guess WWF. Or maybe WCW?) match, until a new challenger approaches, with a German vigilante jumping in.

And then many more. This switches from wrestling to Super Smash Bros to a full on battle royale of the localized knock-offs. Which I won’t lie, it’s a pretty funny idea.

Luckily, what’s a Kabong without a trusty sidekick to save the day? A few of them attempt to team up to find a way to put a stop to this, including one who looks like Boo Boo with Yogi’s hat and Johnny Bravo’s glasses.

So it ends with the Kabong from Mars (no Spiders) threatening all of the puny humans to stop their shenanigans, and go back to their duties. Which hey, it works! And the story ends with Quick Draw attempting to turn the ten million pesos El Kabong received at the beginning from saving the day into cash. Except pesos are basically useless, which is funny haha right?

This reads like a Hanna-Barbera writer from the 90′s attempting to write a classic character in the present day, and mostly works alright. This does show off one problem with Quick Draw though, that its take on Hispanic culture during the period of the Wild West is problematic. Baba Looey for instance has an exaggerated voice, and he probably needs an overhaul to work today (how did that work in Jellystone btw? I still need to see it). And unfortunately, this point in the late 90′s isn’t all that much more sympathetic to Hispanic culture, as their take mostly stays the same.

But away from that, it’s pretty funny. I do really like Quick Draw when it focuses on how pathetic he is as a supposed hero, either with or without the El Kabong persona.

But I wouldn’t have known if this was in if I didn’t pick up the book. I do understand why Cow & Chicken was the main attraction- *insert Malcolm in the Middle “future is now, old man” img here*- but part of the appeal of Cartoon Network at the time was the mix of old and new school. It wasn’t uncommon to see a classic like Quick Draw next to a modern fav like Cow & Chicken.

But oh well, let’s finish this up. The letters column features a 12 year old offering some of his cartoon ideas- I hope John made it; another boy named John who offers a cute drawing of Space Ghost, and asks about Jan, Jase, and Blip, while insulting the latter, which the editor is not here for; and another boy asking if there are plans for stories featuring 2 Stupid Dogs or Secret Squirrel, as well as hopes for a Cow & Chicken comic. The editor shoots down 2 Stupid Dogs happening, and to be fair, I don’t believe that ever happens. Classic cartoons from 40 years earlier? Sure. Something that ended about five years earlier? Old news. But I do believe Secret Squirrel does show up at some point.

The editor then bemoans how no girls brought in letters this month, and offers a preview of the next issue, which involves Wacky Races. And guess what, I have that one too!

The issue proper ends with an editorial about the importance of recycling, which is fine and all, but my reaction to reading this was “blahblahblah put on more cartoons”

Not bad! Oh, and one more thing of note.

I know, I know, they’re the enemy, and I was all over CN at this point, but I have memories of this promotion. Even though I believe it was long over at this point, and Alex Mack should have aired its last episodes before this issue hit stands.

Here’s an ad! And now it’s in your head. Sorry/you’re welcome!

#cartoon network #cartoon network presents #cow and chicken #quick draw mcgraw #comic reviews #merch

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mynumberfivethings · 3 years

Note

Little!five and separation anxiety??

“Hey, I’m headed out, does anybody need anything from the store? I’ll stop by on my way back home tonight.” Vanya announces to the room at large.

Five peeks up from his morning newspaper with a raised brow. “You’re leaving?” he asks. Allison is in California for the next two weeks with Klaus, who convinced her he’d behave if she let him tag along. Diego’s consulting on a case with the PD at the moment, so he hasn’t been home much the last few days. And Luther is working a double today at the local boxing gym-he left early in the morning after making some elaborate protein shake Five poked fun at him for.

Vanya nods, “New client downtown and then I’ve got practice with the orchestra-I’ll be home in time for dinner though.” she throws her bag over her shoulder and then straps her violin case across her chest. “So, anything from the store?”

Ben hums. “Can you get more of those vanilla cookies for the pantry? I think we’re almost out.”

“Gotcha. Alright, see you guys tonight.” she waves goodbye and strolls out of the room, leaving Ben and Five to their own devices for the rest of the day.

After a few minutes of silence Ben pushes his chair back and puts his plate in the sink to soak. “Five, I think I’m gonna visit the library today,” he decides. “Need anything?”

Five sits up straight and puts his newspaper down fully. “Why? We have a library here.” he furrows his brows in confusion, frowning.

Ben chuckles. “Well, Dads library isn’t exactly full of books for leisurely reading.”

Five would beg to differ-”Cosmological Inflation and Large-Scale Structure” was a rather leisurely read, in his opinion. But he knows Ben’s recently gotten a taste for comic books and there’s absolutely no way in hell Reginald would have ever allowed such childish things in his library. “Right.” Five scratches the back of his head anxiously. He’s not sure exactly why he’s suddenly got this weird tightening in his chest, but he does.

“When will you be back?”

Ben shrugs. “Not sure. Probably before dinner, though.”

“Do you mind if I come with you?” Five blurts out. “I-” he clears his throat. “There’s a book I’ve been looking for but I don’t think we have it here.”

Ben tilts his head. Five is a homebody, Ben’s discovered, in the last few months since he was brought back to life. He enjoys sitting at home and reading books, occasionally he’ll watch Jeopardy and put the contestants on the show to shame with the odd amount of trivia he actually knows, but mostly he really only goes out if it’s necessary or if Allison plans a fun family outing and Five is in his little headspace.

“Sure, I don’t mind. You wanna drive?”

Five rolls his eyes. “I can just blink us over there.”

Ben sighs, “Fine, but try to teleport us somewhere at least kind of inconspicuous?” The last time Five agreed to bring him somewhere Ben got an earful from a woman they scared half to death by suddenly appearing out of seemingly thin air not two feet away from her in the bread aisle of the grocery mart.

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

The library is quiet today, which isn’t too surprising considering it’s before noon on a Wednesday.

“I’m gonna go check out the upstairs.” Ben half whispers, already going towards the stairwell.

Five watches Ben walk away with a longing he can’t quite place. He rests his palm against his chest-there’s an ache there he can’t identify. All he knows is that he wants to follow his brother, but he also knows what odd behavior that is. He’s not in his little headspace right now, after all. He doesn’t need to be chaperoned like a child, despite the body he’s in.

Instead, Five decides to roam about the History section a bit.

There’s a giggling that calls his attention about fifteen minutes into his browsing; he looks up to find across the library in the Childrens Books section a young mother and her toddler. She’s shushing the child, but there’s a smile on her face and she’s holding up a Dr. Seuss hardcover and pointing out the silly rhymes and the even sillier made up creatures. She’s sitting down with the boy in her lap and he’s curled up against her looking the picture of warm and snug and...happy.

“Shit.” Five gulps. He can feel it coming on, can feel his control coming apart at the seams. Not here, he thinks, not now. But the tears prickling at the edges of his eyes tell him he’s got little say in the matter.

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

Ben thought Five might join him upstairs after a while but it’s been about a half hour now and his brother’s nowhere to be seen. Curious to see what’s gotten Fives attention, he heads back downstairs.

Ben looks practically everywhere-first in the sections where he thinks Five would most be drawn to-when he’s had no luck he starts to worry. Five knows better than to teleport without letting one of them know if he’s going elsewhere. It took him a while to learn that, in fact.

“Um, excuse me, sorry to bother you,” he begins, speaking to the woman at the front desk, “But is there a chance you saw where my brother might’ve gone? I can’t find him anywhere. He’s thirteen, about this tall, black hair-”

Thankfully there are so few people in the library at the moment that it doesn’t take much for the librarian to recognize who he’s talking about. “Oh, I think I saw him head for the restroom, right that way, to your left.”

Ben thanks her profusely before heading in that direction. He steps foot inside and he can see Five’s shoes peeking out from under the one stall that’s not empty. “I’m gonna check out a couple of books and head to the Starbucks across the street, so meet me there when you’re done here, ok?” he calls out.

He’s expecting an annoyed. “Fine.”-no one, Five most of all, likes to be interrupted while in the bathroom, after all.

But instead he’s surprised to hear a stifled sob and a small, nearly inaudible. “Kay.”

Ben immediately marches up to the stall, his concern coming back tenfold. “Five? Hey, you ok? What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Another stifled sob. “N-no.”

That’s definitely little Five in there, no doubt about it, Ben confirms in his head. “Five, can you open the door for me, please? I just wanna make sure you’re ok.”

It takes a second and some fumbling with the latch but when Five does open it, it’s only to reveal a splotchy red face streaked with tears and a runny nose.

Ben pulls him into his arms without a second thought and squeezes. “What’s the matter?” Five melts into him, his little hiccups turning to sobs.

“Don’t leave.” Five cries. “Don’t wanna be alone anymore. Please.”

Ben’s heart shatters and he holds his baby brother all the tighter. Five has been acting a bit out of sorts since Allison and Klaus left, and then with everyone else in the house so busy lately that they’re barely ever there during waking hours-well, Ben can see now why Five’s been extra attentive when his few remaining siblings decide to leave the house.

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise. I’m sorry I didn’t realize you were feeling this way sooner.” He manages to pick Five up pretty easily-the kid, unfortunately, doesn’t weigh much-and Five latches on instantly, his legs wrapping around Bens waist and his arms around his neck.

He tucks his face against Ben’s neck and huffs out another sob. “Wanna go home.”

Ben rocks him gently back and forth, rubbing a hand up and down his back comfortingly. “Of course.” They’re going to have to take the bus, seeing that they didn’t bring the car, Ben is thinking, just as suddenly they’re transported from the library mens room to Ben’s bedroom back at the Umbrella Academy.

Ben blinks. Five doesn’t often use his powers when he’s in his little headspace-big Five has explained it to them before that when he does, it’s more of a reflex than anything, and oftentimes he ends up three feet to the left of where he’d intended to land, which doesn’t seem like too bad of a miscalculation, until it is.

Ben sets Five down on his bed, intending to go into the kitchen and prepare him a nice warm bottle, but that’s a mistake, if the look of absolute devastation on Fives face has anything to say about it. Ben holds out a hand. “C’mere buddy, we can go downstairs together, ok?”

Five takes the offered hand with both of his, gripping on like it’s a lifeline.

Ben gives in once they’re in the kitchen and picks a sniffling Five up and props him up on his hip while he goes about heating up the milk. “You know,” Ben says quietly. “You can tell us if you’re ever feeling lonely or scared or...anything, really. I know you were alone for a really long time.”

He can feel Five stiffen up in his arms. “Scary.” he mutters. And that’s all he has to say to that. The milk boils and Ben does some kind of magic trick in order to fill the bottle up while also holding onto a little. They end up back in Ben’s room and this time he sits down on the bed with Five on his lap. “Don’t wanna nap.” he whines softly, even though his eyes are already fluttering as Ben rocks him gently.

“But you’re so sleepy already.” Ben chuckles at the yawn Five tries to stifle.

Five shakes his head stubbornly. “Don’t want you to go.”

Ben tugs Five in closer to his chest and leans down to kiss him on his forehead. “I won’t. I swear I’ll be right here when you wake up, ok?”

Five looks up at him with big, teary eyes. “Ok.”

Ben decides the milk is just at the right temperature now for Five to drink and so he places the bottle at Fives lips and sure enough the little opens up and sucks on the teat hungrily. The milk they feed Five is a special milk full of proteins and a decent amount of calories-it’s honestly the only way to get their brother to eat most days. So Ben is relieved when Five ends up drinking the entire thing instead of leaving it half full, as he’s prone to doing.

Five is clearly drowsy, his eyes closing and then opening abruptly as he forces himself to stay awake. “Here, let’s try this.” Ben says, adjusting them so that they’re both laying down on the bed. He pulls Five in towards his chest and Five goes willingly, more than happy to be engulfed in Bens warmth.

Vanya finds her two brothers sleeping in exactly that position a couple of hours later-her practice having been postponed for a later date. She grins and takes her phones out to snap a photo-ok, several photos-and sends them to the family group chat.

#ask #answered #long post #tua #the umbrella academy #little!five #five is a little #littles exists in this AU #also ben is very much alive #bc i love him #ben hargreeves #five hargreeves #number five #hargreeves family #hargreeves siblings #vanya hargreeves

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kyber-kisses · 4 years

Text

Where Nothing Stays Buried

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: violence, cursing, blood, spn level gore.

Bad Things Happen Bingo

Square filled: Blood from mouth

Summary: When the reader is hit by an unknown curse, things suddenly turn for the worse in the bunker.

A/N: So this is hella long and I have no idea how to feel about it, but I hope you guys enjoy this hot mess!

“I fucking hate witches, have I ever told you that?”

“About half a million times, Dean. But thank you for reminding me.” You sighed, letting out a yawn near the end of your sentence as you adjusted the straps of your duffel.

The two of you descended the stairs of the bunker, the metal steps creaking slightly beneath you with each step. The hunt had practically been a milk run. A witch a few towns over had been using communing with a spirit of some sort to pit people against each other. The witch was now six feet under and lives were saved. The whole thing had been wrapped up in less than a week and now you and Dean were back home, Sam having chosen to stay behind this time around.

“But seriously, they’re gross and creepy and I hate them immensely.”

“I know, Dean.” Sliding off the straps of your pack, you dropped it onto the map table.

“We still on for movie night, tonight?” Dean questioned, siding up besides you as he began unloading the weapons from his bag onto the table.

“Dude it’s -“ you reached over and grabbed his wrist, flipping it over to look at his watch. “9:30 at night.”

“But. . . Butch and Sundance.”

“Can wait one more day.” You smiled, giving him a pat on the shoulder as you turned. “I’m gonna go shower. I smell like roadkill.”

And just like that you were gone, disappearing down one of the many hallways of the bunker. Dean watched you go, eyes fixed one the corner you had just rounded.

“Well that’s adorable.”

Deans head spun to look towards the library, watching as his brother leaning against one of the pillars.

“You shut up.”

“All I said was that's adorable.”

“Yeah, and I told you to shut up.” Dean hissed, jabbing a finger at his brother before snatching up his own bag and leaving the room.

*. *. *. *. *. *.

Around an hour later you found yourself standing at the kitchen counter, the bunker mostly silent as you made yourself a sandwich. Sam was seated at the kitchen table, typing away at something on his laptop, and the last you saw of Dean he was in the library rifling through one of the lore books.

“I didn’t have time to ask earlier, but how was the hunt?”

“It was fine.” You shrugged, licking a crumb off your finger as you continued to assemble your meal. “Thing was practically a milk run. It was almost too easy.”

“Dean told me the two of you got thrown around a lot.”

“Well witches are bitches.” You nodded, picking up the kitchen knife besides you. “But we’re both fine. . . I mean I think Deans a little disheartened that I didn’t want to do a movie night tonight, but he’ll get over that.”

“End it.”

Eyebrows suddenly drawing together in confusion, you looked back over your shoulder at Sam, the hunters eyes still glued to his screen. “What did you say?”

“ I didn’t say anything.”

“Are you sure? I could have sworn-“

“They’re playing you.” The voice came out of nowhere, like a soft breeze, barely audible to even your own ears. You shook your head. You were tired, that was all. You were just hearing things.

But not a second later a wave of warmth rippled through every nerve in your body . For a moment you tried to fight it, unsure exactly what was happening, but you quickly gave up. It wasn’t painful or scary, it was almost as if a heated blanket had been wrapped around you. Your body instantly calmed, shoulders relaxing.

okay, weird. Maybe it was just your body relaxing after a long day. Nothing to worry about

After a second your eyes were suddenly found interest in drifting towards the kitchen knife in your hand. The reflection from the overhead light refracting off the clean metal as you turned it in your hand. You pressed a finger to the top of the blade, not enough to break skin, but just enough to leave an indent.

“Move.”

At the sound of the voice, you did. Your body remaining relaxed as you turned on your heel and headed out of the kitchen, knife still in hand and Sam still too busy to notice.

As you stalked down the hallway, your strides full of purpose, you felt your fingers flex against the handle, almost as if trying to fight the movement all together. At the far end of the hallway, Dean walked into view, a book balanced in his forearm as he read. He glanced up from the page for a half a second, acknowledging your existence, and then looked back down.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Throw it.”

It was only when Dean glanced back down at his book that he had to do a double take, looking up just in time with wide eyes to see you pull your arm back, and with a light hop in your step, throw the kitchen knife down the hallway. Your steps not even faltering even after the utensil left your palm.

The hunter quickly ducked as the knife flipped end over end before burying itself in the wall behind him with a solid thwunk, the handle quivering from the impact. With wide eyes Dean looked up at the blade and then back to you.

“Y/N, what the hell?!”

There was no answer from you as you closed the distance between you and him. Still stunned by what had just happened, Dean didn’t have time to brace himself before you were sweeping your leg underneath him and knocking him to the floor, pinning him beneath you instantly.

“Y/N!”

He could see that you were winding up, your hand pulling back. In whatever way he could to stop you, his own fingers wrapped around your wrists, struggling to keep you from plowing foreword. Unfortunately that didn’t help, and even though your wrist was locked in his grasp, you brought your elbow upward, slamming it into his chin. Losing his hold on you his hand slipped.

Possession. It had to be possession. . . Or maybe a hex bag? One of those two.

As you delivered the first solid punch, the voice continued to coax you foreword, whispering softly into your ear. You listened. Giving yourself fully over to the force rippling through you.

“Y/N- listen to me-“ Dean gasped, eyes wide as he watched you bring your hand back. “Somethings- somethings wrong.”

Another solid punch had his head knocking back against the linoleum floor, a groan leaving his lips. He didn’t notice the commotion down the hall until your weight of your body was gone and you were suddenly being pulled off him by two strong sets of hands.

Gasping in a lungful of air, he slid back, his back hitting the wall as he tried to gather himself. Both Sam and Cas were holding you tightly back as you tried to lunge at Dean, a fire blazing in your eyes.

“Let me go!”

“Y/N-“

Clearly they were trying to keep their hold on you somewhat loose as if to not hurt you, but that was a terrible idea because you managed to fight them off and throw yourself forward as Dean again. His hunter reflexes kicked in before he could stop and all of a sudden he was driving his fist into your jaw, making you stumble back.

This time Sam and Cas grabbed you with more force, looping their arms underneath your armpits as they pulled you back.

“Dean, what the hell is going on?!”

“Does it look like I fuckin know?!” Using the back of his hand to wipe the blood away from his mouth, he watched the two struggle to keep you back.

He had punched you. He could see the welt already forming on your jaw. What the hell was happening?

“We need to tie her down-“ Sam struggled with the words, your strength still being difficult to keep under control.

“The dungeon.” Cas spoke, looking to Sam for approval before the two were pulling you down the hallway. Your heels kicked against the floor as you were dragged backwards screaming.

And then the words to leave your mouth had Dean heart stop in his chest momentarily.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you!” You screamed, face pulled up in pain as you struggled. Your eyes both glassy and full of rage as you fought. “I hate you! I fucking hate you!”

A second later you were dragged around the corner, you yells continuing to echo through the bunker. Trying to process what was happening, Dean slumped back against the wall, eyes full of confusion and pain.

Something happened on that case that he didn’t see. . . Because that wasn’t you. Not at all.

*. *. *. *. *. *.

Twenty minutes later, Dean found himself seated at one of the library tables, an ice pack pressed firmly to his eye. He had tried to go see you after you had been dragged into the dungeon, but one thing was very clear : Whatever was infecting you was making you target him. Sam and Cas had told him it wasn’t a good idea to be within your line of sight.

“She still angry as a little viper?” Dean mumbled, his eyes cast downward when he heard the two enter the room. He knew that answer though already. You had practically been screaming nonstop for the last twenty minutes. The sounds muffled by the walls of the bunker.

“Yeah. She’s locked down. She’s not getting free of the bindings we put on her.” Sam sighed, sinking into one of the vacant seats across from him. It was only when Dean finally looked up, did a hiss escape his teeth. Clearly you had gotten a few good licks in with both Sam and Cas. The two sporting several welts and scratches.

“Jeez.”

“Yeah. Let’s just say she’s not holding back or pulling her punches.” Sam winced.

“It’s gotta be possession. It’s gotta be.”

“We already checked. It’s not.” Cas butted in. “Plus, she has an anti-possession tattoo, remember?”

“So then it’s a hexbag.”

“Guess again. We didn’t find anything on her.”

“Well then what the hell is happening to her?” Dean picked up his head fully. It felt like his thoughts were moving at a million miles an hour. “She was fine when we got back.”

“I don’t know. Could be a curse maybe?” Sam shrugged. “Something that latched onto her during the case?”

There was a pause as Dean sucked in his lips, silently contemplating what to do. “I want to see her.”

“Dean, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. She seems to be the most angry at you. I mean, she did attack me and Cas as well but. . . Even just the mention of your name while we were in there made her go ballistic.”

Dean ignored his brother, instead moving to push himself out of his seat, dropping the ice pack on the table. “Well we cant help her if we’re all just sitting her twiddling our thumbs.” He paused again, looking back down at his hand. “. . . I hit her Sam.”

“It was instinct. You were protecting yourself.”

“It doesn’t matter, Cas! I punched her and I-“ Dean knew he shouldn’t feel guilty but he couldn’t help it. He had hurt you. You. One of the people he cared about the most. He needed to make this right. He needed to help you.

*. *. *. *. *.

Struggling against the stiff bindings keeping your arms securely bound to your chest, you leaned forward in your seat, taking in the shackles on your ankles. The room was empty aside from yourself. Sam and Cas having locked you in here a good five minutes ago.

“They’re talking about you, you know.”

“Let them.”

A sudden shadow off to your side suddenly caught your attention, making you look up. You thought you were alone. Clearly that was not correct.

“You’re the voice I’ve been hearing.”

“That I am.”

The shadow slowly slid into the light, revealing a thin figure wrapped in black. She moved like smoke, her hair long and a shade of purple so dark that you originally thought it was black when you first looked. Hers eyes shining like molten golden. A soft smile played on her dark lips as she moved foreword.

“Who are you?”

You see, for most people in this situation they would be scared out of their minds. But that didn’t happen. Not to you at least. All you felt was calm, the same way one might feel when held in their mothers arms.

“A god. But that doesn’t matter.” Her smile widened as she dragged a nail across your cheek. “What matters is that I’m helping you.”

“Oh.”

At that same time, the doors to the dungeon were pulled back open by one Dean Winchester, his brother and Cas standing behind him. You expected them to say something, to direct their attention towards the unknown woman besides you, but then you realized it was because they couldn’t see her.

Only you could.

“Look at them. So oblivious to the pain they’ve brought you.” She tutted, head tilting slightly in amusement.

You looked past Dean as if he wasn’t there, instead directing your attention towards Sam. “Sam, let me out.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Let. Me. Out.” Taking time to sound out each word, you began your struggle against your bindings once more. It was like there was in itch underneath your skin, and the only way to get rid of it was to attack.

“Y/N, we wanna help you.” Dean tried, attempting to take a step closer, only for you to lash out even more. He stepped back.

“He’s lying. They don’t help people. All they do is send them to their deaths.” The woman whispered, leaning down close to your ear. “Think about it.”

“You even listening to us?”

Your eyes blazed again as you looked up through the strands of hair hanging over your eyes. “I want you dead. . . I want you all dead.”

That caught them slightly off guard. The three men sharing a look between them like they didn’t know what to do.

“Look at you.” The figure cooed, hand coming to cup you cheek. The contact making you relax slightly. “They cause you nothing but suffering. Don’t you want to be free of it all?”

“Yes.”

“Think about it. How you’ve lost so many friends because they roped them into to helping them fight their battles.”

It was like throwing fuel onto a fire, and like a million times before you attempted to lunge foreword. The rage running through you like a wild animal.

“You’re terrible people! You keep getting the people I care about killed!” You snapped, almost on the verge of tears. “It’s like we’re all pawns in your game! Charlie, Bobby, Kevin-“

You ignored the heartbreak on Deans features. The hunter clearly losing his battle at hiding his emotions.

“Unravel him.”

“Am I next? The next person in your line of sacrifices? The next person to give up their life to keep you going?”

“It has never been like that. Ever!” Dean swallowed thickly, trying to keep his voice from cracking.

“Liar.” You paused, suddenly a new idea was slipping into your brain. “You know what, let’s make this all easier. Instead of waiting for my eventual death to come, no doubt somehow because of you. . . Just kill me now.”

“Y/N-“ Dean choked out your name like he couldn’t believe what you were saying. “Don’t say that.” One second you wanted them dead, and now you wanted them to kill you. He didn't know which was worse.

“Why not? It’s true isn’t it? I’d finally be free of you, and all the death that follows you. If I can’t kill you-“ you gestured to your restrains keeping you from going anywhere. “this is the next best option.”

“Y/N, we care about you. We’re not going to do that.” Cas spoke up, reminding you that he was there.

“They’re trying to pull you in. Don’t let them. They think your weak.”

“If you care about me, you’ll kill me.”

Dean opened his mouth as if to speak, but only snapped it shut once more. Shaking his head he pressed passed his brother and Cas. He couldn’t be around this. This was a whole other type of pain.

*. *. *. *. *. *.

Three days.

Three days of combing through the lore for anything that might point them in the right direction, and nothing. Resting his chin in his palm, Dean flipped the page of the book he was currently reading through. Sam sat across from him in a similar position. They had barely gotten any sleep in days, too busy trying to find a way to help you. A moment later, Cas was walking back into the room, even the angel had a tired expression.

“Well?”

“Well, she is still refusing to eat and I can’t remember the last time she actually drank the water we brought her.”

Dean cursed under his breath. Along with the violence and hurtful words, you now refused to cooperate. It was like you were trying to get them to snap.

“I’ll go check on her.”

“Dean-“

Dean was already down the steps before either of them could stop him. “don’t try and stop me.”

You were exactly where they last left you, your head hanging low up until the point in which Dean stepped into the room. At the sound of his foot pattern you looked up. The fire in your eyes still hadn’t gone out, and he could practically see the fury radiating off of you in waves.

“Well look who decided to visit.”

“I didn’t come here to talk.” Letting out a deep sigh, he knelt down to inspect your restraints, making sure they hadn’t loosened at all.

“You finally come here to finish me off like I asked?” Flexing your fingers you leaned foreword, the hunter looking up to find his face inches from your own.

“I ain’t killing you. Ever.”

“You’re just a pawn in their game. They will still be ready to sacrifice you at a moments notice for the greater good. That’s all you are. An pawn.”

Rising back to his feet, Dean made his way around you to check the chains keeping you to the chair. The heavy metal had been looped several times around you, a lock fastening it to a ring at the base of the chair.

“Do you know how many people would still be alive if you hadn’t let them wander into your lives? So many. It’s a miracle I’ve lasted this long.”

Closing his eyes for a moment and taking a deep breath, the hunter tried to ignore your words. You were trying to make him snap.

“Stop talking-“ he began, only for his words to fall short as he glimpsed something beneath the collar of your shirt. Taking a step back he tilted his head before suddenly rushing to pull down the back of your shirt. “What the hell?”

With a newfound urgency the older Winchester dove his hand into the pocket of his jeans to fish out his phone. Snapping a quick picture he was gone before you could use anymore words against him.

The hallway towards the library had never felt longer as he rushed through it, eyes fixated on the photo.

“Sam, I think I got something!”

Both heads turned quickly as he entered the library, his feet momentarily sliding on the wooden floor.

“Good, because I think I got something too.” Turning the book around on the tabletop he pushed it towards Dean and Cas before taking Deans phone from his extended hand and looking down at the picture. “That’s what I thought.”

“What is it?”

“It’s the five fingered hand of Eris.”

“. . . Okay I’m gonna need a bit more than that, Sam.”

The hunter sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Eris is the Greek goddess of strife and discord. it says here that she’s marks her victims with the symbol, basically feeds them lies and tries to pit them against others.”

“Goes it say why she keeps lashing out more towards me, and not you? I mean she aint giving any of us friendly looks, me especially.”

“It says the stronger the emotional attachment, the stronger the hold. but that's about it.” Sam shrugged.

“Alright, then how do we stop it? Get rid of the symbol?”

“Um- give me a sec.” swinging the book back around, Sam flipped through a few pages before stopping. “Yeah, you can stop it but— oh.”

“Oh? What’s that mean oh? Was that a good oh or a bad oh?

“There’s not exactly a spell to get rid of it.”

“Not exactly?” Dean repeated, looking back over his shoulder at Cas who merely shrugged.

Sam pressed his lips together. Dean wasn’t gonna like this. He wasn’t gonna like this one bit. Hell, he didn’t like this- but it was the only option in the book.

“Sam?”

“All we need is a silver knife.”He could see Dean buffering, the hunter trying to put two and two together. He gave him another minute before adding “we have to cut it out of her.”

“what?” Suddenly Deans voice was much quieter, the man taking a step back from the table. “no, there has to be another way.”

“This is literally the only way to stop it. There is no other way.”

Dean already felt terrible for hitting you that one time, and now they were telling him they had to literally carve out a symbol that was basically branded to your back? No. That was too much.

“You can’t ask me to do that.”

“You don’t have to. I can do it, but someone needs to hold her down. We can’t do it if she’s chained to that chair.” Already rising from his own seat, Sam looked past Dean towards Cas. “Do you still have that blade we found in that crypt a few months back?”

“Yes.”

“Then that should work.” Sam nodded, it was only when he and Cas were at the door did they realize Dean had yet to move.

“Dean.”

Snapping out of the zone, the hunter nodded before quietly following them. Just the thought of bringing harm to you was too much. The image making his stomach flip.

The three made quick work of releasing you from the confining chains, the metal clanging against the cement floor of the dungeons as they slid from your body.

“Finally come to kill me like I asked?” You spoke, eyes glancing towards the blade in Sam’s palm. The younger Winchester remained silent, watching as Dean suddenly replaced the thick chains you had grown accustom to with a pair of handcuffs.

What happened next was so fast that you barely registered it. Dean suddenly tugged you firmly against his chest, locking his arms around you. The action made you struggle in his grasp as he sunk to his knees, bringing you down with him. It would be easier keeping you still this way.

“What the hell are y-“

It was Cas who stepped in next, pressing two fingers to your temple. Dean wasn’t exactly sure what the angel was doing but he felt you slightly loosen in his arms, your struggling slowly stilling as you panted.

“Sam, do it.”

The hunter didn’t need to be told twice before he was pulling up the back of your shirt. The marking was nestled between your shoulder blades and was almost the size of Deans palm. It looked like a brand, two opposing arrows converging at a common point.

“Hold her still.”

“I fucking am-“ Dean hissed through his teeth, turning his head away as Sam brought the tip of the blade to your flesh. Dean didn’t need to be told what was happening because a second later that’s when you started to scream, lurching in his arms. The heat from your breath seeped into the fabric of his shirt as you cried out, struggling in his grip.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry-

That was the only thing running through his head as he buried his face in your shoulder, clutching you tighter to keep you from moving. Soon enough your screams mixed with sobs and Dean couldn’t tell if he was feeling your tears or his own. For the longest time Dean thought he could never truly feel someone else’s pain, but those screams of yours came close. They ripped through him like shards of glass and brought a whole new type of agony. The worst part was it felt like it went on for an eternity, but once it stopped, Dean was still afraid to loosen his hold. Your screams faded into sobs and your weight fully fell into him, face buried in his shoulder.

“Please tell me it’s over.”

At the sight of Sam pulling away with bloody hands, Deans stomach lurched again. That was your blood.Yours.

“It’s over.” Sam looked towards Cas, the angel lifting his hand from your temple before touching it to your back. A warm light spilled over you skin momentarily and then he was pulling back.

“I’ve healed most of it, but she still needs bandages.”

Seeing that Dean wasn’t going to be moving, Sam nodded already moving towards the door. “I’ll go get em. I need to wash my hands anyways.”

“Okay-“ Dean sucked in a lungful of air, suddenly feeling as if he had just run a marathon. “Okay.”

The worst part was over.

*. *. *. *. *. *.

The bunker was quiet. At least much more than it had been before. As Dean made his way down the dimly lit hallway he saw that your room was still empty. It had been for the past week, ever since they cut that marking out of you. Moving past your door way, he stepped into the dungeon, knocking on the door frame to alert you of his presence.

“You gonna come out and join us for dinner?”

“No.”

“Y/N, you’ve barely eaten.” Dean sighed, stepping into the room. “Plus, you need to sleep in an actual bed. Not on the floor.”

Your back was facing him, knees tucked into your chest as you let your hand run over the devils trap beneath you. “I’m not leaving.”

Another sigh. He knew you would say that. Even though the symbol was off of you, you were terrified you might hurt someone again. . . So you had chosen to stay in the dungeon. Sam and Cas had taken off your restraints days ago but you had clamped a shackle back over your ankle for good measure.

“You’re not gonna hurt anyone. Sam got that thing off of you.”

You couldn’t allow yourself to face him. Your eyes instead going to your hands. “We don’t know that. . . “ you paused, eyes stinging with inside tears. “I hurt you. I said terrible, awful things to you- I tried to kill you.”

“It was a curse. That happens.”

“If it was the other way around, could you let it go?”

Silence.

“That’s what I thought.”

Suddenly Dean was kneeling down in front of you, big jade eyes staring at you with tenderness. “It’s not your fault.”

“I just- I don’t want you believing anything of what I said. I don't want you thinking for even a second that I hate you.”

“I don’t.”

“I told you guys that you use your friends like pawns. That it’s your fault that we’ve lost people. . . That’s not- that’s not true.” You stumbled on the words, finding it difficult to speak.

“Hey, hey it okay. I get it.” He squeezed your shoulder before pulling you into a hug. “I went through something similar when I had the mark of Cain. I was spitting out stuff that wasn’t true as well.”

“How can you forgive me?”

“The same way you forgave me when I had the mark.” Dean mumbled against your hairline. “Now how bout we get you out of here and get back to normal?”

“How do we do that?”

“One step at a time.”

“. . .I really am sorry.”

“I know.”

SPN Taglist: (Still Open)

@familybusinesswritingbro@a–1–1–3 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @music-is-all-i-need @agusdoti @callmekda @jordangdelacruz @orphiceseum @andthatsmyworld @marvelfangirllll @fandomnerdespressourself @gladiosamicitias @castielsangelsx @lxstgxrl-ck @tis-i-the-wayward-idgit @amendoise @phoenixuprisingsstuff @ericalynne007 @kaitlaitlaitl @totallyluciferr @supernaturalenchanted @dolanfivsosxox@supernatural-ocs @emptycanvasposts @akshi8278 @defenderrosetyler @heyyy-hey-babyyy @supernaturalenchanted@emptycanvasposts @vicmc624 @all-will-be-well-love@busy-bee-angel-misska @starsandmidnightblue @lilulo-12fanfiction @beanie-beebo @xoxoaudreymarie @greenarrowhead @mrsjenniferwinchester @mysticalfuncollectorus @brebolin @biahblue @noahandthegiraffe @hhiggs @mila-dans @mrsmaybankhere @malindacath @littleagxs @deanwanddamons @idksupernatural

#dean winchester imagine #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester one shot #SPN #spn x reader #spn imagine #bi-danvers writing

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judediangelo75 · 3 years

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Needy

Hello beautiful people~

I hope you all enjoyed your Christmas (if you celebrate it). Although my creative spirit haven’t fully come back full fledge, I did manage to finish another short.

Where Talbott said something he shouldn't have said which results in Judith ignoring him.

Hope you guys like it. Enjoy!

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

The Ravenclaw wizard was hunched over his books, trying to focus on his studies for the upcoming O.W.L.S.

If he failed to get at least an Exceeding Expectations on all his tests, he could kiss his dream of becoming an Auror goodbye. He rubbed his temples to fight off an impending headache.

It was then when a pair of cold hands were placed on his shoulders. Talbott automatically tensed up, ready to reach for his wand when those hands started massaging his tense shoulders. His brows furrowed in confusion until he focused on the feeling of those hands.

Small.

Slender but strong fingers.

Callouses on the fingertips and a bit of the palm, but mostly soft.

Judith.

His assumption was correct as a trail of soft kisses was placed on his neck. He shivered, unconsciously tilting his head to give her more room.

"Studying yet again, my love?" her voice cooed in his ear. Talbott felt his face flush.

"Yes, I am... so if you don't mind..." Judith frowned. She knew that Talbott was trying to study for the upcoming O.W.L.S.

Who wasn't?

But she could tell that he's been hunched over his desk for quite some time, judging by the tension that resides in between his shoulders and back.

"You need to take a break, love... Besides it's been a while since we last spent some time together," she said softly, leaving a light kiss on his ear. Talbott felt those strong fingers work at his shoulders again and bit his lip to prevent a groan from escaping him.

He wanted to melt against his girlfriend.

Allow her to help him unwind.

But he needed to study.

"I'm fine," he forced out, trying to focus on his Charms textbook and not on the sweet kisses his girlfriend was laying on his neck. Her cool hands migrated lower to his waist, hugging him from behind.

"Talbott..." The Ravenclaw screwed his eyes shut, trying to block out the insistent Hufflepuff.

"Tal-"

"Would you just bloody leave?! I'm busy and can't focus with you being so damn needy!" Judith froze at those words. She did want to spend time with her boyfriend, but she knew better to not cling.

The last thing she wants is to feel like a bother to someone.

She frowned and silently removed her arms. She knew that Talbott was just busy and running off of testing anxiety.

Even though his words did hurt, she did deserve them.

She was being pushy...

"Okay..." Talbott stiffens at the simple word.

It sounded cold.

He turned around to find the door to his room being shut. The phantom feeling of her lips and hands lingered behind.

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

Talbott felt like he could breathe again as he looked at his results. Several Outstanding's and a few Exceeding Expectations. At least he knows what areas to work on.

But that was for later.

He wanted to celebrate this accomplishment by spending some much needed time with his girlfriend.

Who was unbelievably scarce for a while now. Even when they shared the same time block for an O.W.L., she wouldn't look his way. That bothered him a lot.

He hopes that now that the tests were over, he could indulge in what she was suggesting last time they spoke.

With that in mind, he immediately went on a hunt for the girl. Which, lucky for him, didn't take long.

He walked into the Owlery to find her tying a sheet of paper around her owl's, Stark, leg. She gave the white bird a gentle kiss on the head before sending him off.

Talbott bit his lip at the memory of those same lips lavishing his neck and ear with attention.

He could use some attention now...

He quietly walked up behind the Hufflepuff witch, greeting her with a hug from behind. Talbott was secretly happy to find her hair up in a bun, so he can freely nuzzle her neck as much as he pleased. He breathed in the sweet scent that clung onto his girlfriend's skin, before letting out a sigh.

"Hello, darling," he whispered, squeezing the girl closer. He can feel her warmth beginning to melt into him. He missed this...

"Hey." The wizard froze.

Hey?

He pulled away and swiftly turned the girl around to study her features. His eyes scanned her face to see if anything was amiss.

Was this some kind of prank? Judith never greeted him so... plainly before. He was more used to the sound of her giggle, or her replying with a sweet endearment. Not some nonchalant "Hey"...

"Are... are you feeling alright, Judith," he asked, feeling a bit worried about his girlfriend's behavior. Judith simply shrugged.

"Yeah. I just sent my mother a copy of my O.W.L.S. Not that I think she cares but she at least deserves to know I guess. Anyway, I'm tired and want to take a nap. Was there something you needed?" Talbott didn't like the dull look in her eyes.

"Well, I was hoping that we could spend some time together. Since we're done with testing and all," he said slowly as he ran his hands along the curve of her waist. He silently hoped to get a reaction out of her. All he got was a yawn.

"Maybe some other time. I'll catch you later, Talbott." The girl walked away, leaving her boyfriend dumbstruck over what the hell just happened.

———————

Talbott laid in his bed, trying to sleep. But his mind keeps coming back to Judith.

Who was effectively ignoring him.

It's been a week since they've completed their O.W.L.S. And he still hasn't gotten a chance to be with her.

She always had something to do, so their quiet time together has basically disappeared. He couldn't even get to enjoy her touch anymore. She already knew how he felt about PDA, but sometimes when he can get her alone, he barely gets to experience her touch.

She was normally a very affectionate person, which Talbott loved about her. Seeing how touch-deprived ever since his parents died. That deprivation was starting to show...

There were times where he contemplated sneaking into her room so they can be together. He really missed her.

The feeling of her warmth.

The sight of her smile.

The sound of her voice.

The sweet scent lingered on her skin and hair.

The taste of her kiss.

Talbott buried his face into his pillow, groaning. He can't take it anymore...

———————

Judith was just coming from the Library after her study session with Brooke. She's been trying to keep herself busy ever since the end of her O.W.L.S. She wasn't gonna lie that she was purposely trying to avoid her boyfriend.

She was still hurt over what he said. And it bothered her a lot.

She let out a soft sigh. Who know if-

"Meep-" a hand reached out of an unused classroom, grabbing her by the elbow before dragging her inside. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the dark room as she turned to glare at her captor. Only to be surprised to find red eyes staring down at her.

"Talbott-" before she could question her boyfriend about snatching her out of nowhere, her lips were effectively seized by his. She let out a confused noise from the back of her throat as she was pushed into a wall.

She felt her face flush when he grasped the back of her thighs, picking her up. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, pulling him close. Talbott released her lips in favor of leaving a trail of kisses along the line of her neck.

"T-Talbott?! Wh-what are you d-doing?!" Judith struggled to get the question out as her boyfriend found one of her weak spots on her neck. She shuddered when she felt his tongue trace a heart over it.

"...missed you..." she heard faintly. She reached up and tangled her fingers in his hair before pulling at it. She was able to pull him away from her neck, revealing his annoyed expression. Talbott's hands were rubbing over the curve of her waist and hips.

'Focus!' Judith yelled in her mind.

"What in the seven hells is the matter with you, Talbott?!" The young man looked disgruntled.

"You've been avoiding me," he mumbled. He watched as the sharp glare faded from her eyes. As well as her grip on his hair loosening...

He quickly swooped in and stole another kiss from her. The girl squeaked and tighten the grip she had on his waist. A low moan escaped the back of his throat.

He tried not to think about the feeling of her strong thighs holding him so close was doing to him...

He felt the tension leave his body the longer her soft lips remained on his. She has no idea what kind of hold she has over him. He didn't expect himself to be so...

Needy.

Judith broke the kiss again and he found himself growing more annoyed. He wanted some love from his little bird...

"Stop torturing me, Judith," he whined, the lingering taste of vanilla remained on his lips as he licked them.

"Talbott, just tell me what's wrong," she said. She covered her mouth before Talbott can try to kiss her again. He glared, the grip on her waist was tight.

"You've been avoiding me and I bloody miss you! I just..." The glare in his eyes faded a bit.

"I just wanna be with you again. I'm sorry if I hurt you, little bird. Please don't shut me out again," he whispered, quietly pleading with his beloved. Judith pursed her lips.

"You're right, you did hurt me when you said I was being needy. And I guess I deserved it since I was being pushy when you were trying to study, but I couldn't help how I felt," she said softly. He winced and cupped her face.

"What can I do to make it up to you, darling?" He watched as her face morphed into a thoughtful pout and tried not to think how sweet those kiss swollen lips looked-

"A date will suffice," she finally concluded. The young man nodded eagerly, nuzzling her hair.

"I can definitely do that, my love," he whispered, kissing her hairline. A flush colored the Hufflepuff's cheeks at the sweet gesture.

"Oh yeah and Talbott?"

"Hm?"

"Don't snatch me like that ever again unless you want to have a black eye." The Ravenclaw sweatdropped. He was lucky that she didn't, seeing how quick her reflexes normally were.

"I'm sorry, darling..." The girl looked at him with a teasing smirk before placing her cool hands on both sides of his sharp jawline. The heat from before started to creep back up again.

"Apology accepted, now come here, love..." A shiver ran down Talbott at the sound of her seductive coo.

"Yes ma'am..."

#hphm #hphm mc #hphm jacobs sibling #hphm talbott #talbott winger #talbott x jacob's sibling #talbott x mc #hogwarts mystery #harry potter hogwarts game #judith harris

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spookysweet-heart · 3 years

Text

Just Another Runaway?

Parings: Circus!Egos x Fem!Reader

Fandom: Youtuber Egos (Mark, Jack, and Nate)

Warning: Vague mention of abuse

A/N: Hello! I deleted the original work I had because I wanted to change a few things. I hope you all like this new Introduction to this Circus series! The lovely aesthetic I’ll be using for this intro is by the very talented @huffle-princess! Thank you again for letting me use your aesthetics! Edited by @semiproeagle23

Life was never the greatest, you had to admit that. From the screaming, to the fights, the bruises, and tears. The only escape you had from what was supposed to be your home, was the local Gym. A little weird, but they had a gymnastics section in there and that’s where you loved to go.

Your best friend since childhood, Stretch, is the owner's daughter. She goes to the same school you do. You two would always be at the Gym after school for a bit, and you’d always find the time to practice some moves and get a workout done with some of the other girls who were practicing.

Though you would never really join in, you were more off to the side.

Stretch would help you cover up bruises you had that were visible, but you could see it in her face that she was worried about you, though you always told her you were fine and pushed through it.

Those unspoken words you and her shared when she looked at the pain you were in always ended in you running away at the end of the day, but none were successful.

You made plans and sure you were careful to the tiniest detail, perfecting it after each attempt you took.

Failure after failure, you never gave up. The first few times after being brought back home from the cops, you were yelled at, degraded.

It took a couple more years, but once you turned 17, you decided to go through with your new plan you worked so hard on.

Packing up some things in your backpack, you made sure to take everything you needed. You went to school as normal, and hung out with your friends. You weren’t really paying attention to their conversation at lunch till you saw one of them pull out a flier out of her bag.

“What’s that?” You looked over curiously at the piece of paper.

“Haven’t you heard? There’s a traveling Circus coming into town.” You shook your head and Sam smiled at you. “I heard this Circus only pops up for one week in the year.”

Meer rolled her eyes. “So what? You’re saying it like it’s supposed to be scary?”

“Well, it is. I heard each town this Circus goes to at least one kid from the town goes missing and they never see them again. They say the Circus is for the lost souls of the living.” Stretch made a face while making spooky noises.

The whole table burst into laughter. You pointed at the flier and asked. “Where is it going to be?”

“In the middle of the woods two miles away from the abandoned train tracks.” Sam piped up in excitement.

“Wait, how do you know that?” Meer raised an eyebrow, looking confused at her friend.

“Jordan from science said he was in the woods this morning and he saw them set everything up.” Sam said as she took a bite of her food.

“Jordan?! You can’t believe everything that kid says.” Meer looked at Sam like she was joking.

“Why not?” Stretch asked as she slid the flier over to you when she saw you trying to look at it.

“The kid’s kinda weird, like not normal weird.” Meer made a face and took a sip of her juice.

You rolled your eyes and carefully folded the flier, putting it in your bag. “Just because he’s really into science doesn’t make him weird. He just likes what he studies.”

Standing up from the table and making your way to your next class, Stretch stopped you in the hallway. "Hey! Are we still going to the gym after school? You haven't been going the past week and the coach is starting to get worried."

Adjusting your backpack, you gave her a small smile. "Yeah, about that. I just haven't been feeling too well and haven’t been up to going to the gym."

"Is everything okay? (Y/n), your parents aren't-"

"No! No…they aren't, I just haven't been up to going lately. I'm sorry, I have to get to my class."

Right as you started to walk away, she grabbed your arm. "(Y/n), whatever it is you're going through, you can talk to me. You know that, right?"

You nodded and gave her a brighter smile. "Yeah, of course I know. I'll see you around, okay?" Taking back your arm, you headed off to your next class.

------

Towards the end of the day, you had a free period for your last class, so you decided to go look through the school's library. Besides gymnastics, you always loved reading when you were actually home. Scary stories were what you loved to read. Sure, it was a bit childish, but you loved it because you would control the fear and how it affected you.

Your eyes scanned the shelves of many horror novels, comics, and picture books. Though….you noticed one book in particular. It looked a little odd to the rest.

Picking it out, you saw the cover was faded. There were spots of brown and red, the spine was a bit torn, and the pages looked like they could crumble with the lightest touch.

Taking a look at the cover, the faintest words could be made out. "The Circus of Souls….I read that somewhere- no way…" Quickly taking the flier out of your bag, you put it side by side with the book. "They're the same…."

Gently opening the book, you saw drawings of a ringleader in the shadows with a wicked smile. In his hand held a cane with a small orb. His eyes were hidden by the top hat. What looked like red and black smoke surrounded him.

There were images of a magician in a mask with glowing potions in his hands, a man who seemed to be surrounded by purple smoke singing to a crowd. A mystic and dark fortune teller. A man in pink wearing a blindfold and holding knives. And a girl with glowing green eyes standing next to a tiger.

Every page had a story and specific person to it. Staring at the picture of the Ringleader, you were lost in thought when the last bell rang. You jumped as it brought you back to reality.

Looking around and making sure no one was near, you placed the book and flier into your bag heading out of the school as fast as you could.

Holding your bag close, you walked towards the woods, not looking back. You started walking the trail until you turned away from it.

Carefully, you maneuvered your way through the trees and bushes, making your way to the abandoned train tracks.

Moving through a bush, you made it to the other side to where the track was. Looking around at the abandoned train cars, you sat at the edge of the tracks, taking out a water bottle from your backpack. You sighed after taking a sip, and looked up at the sky, seeing it was pretty cloudy out today. Tugging your jacket a bit closer to your body, you decided to explore the cars that were open.

You knew some homeless people used to live in them, but no one ever saw them around much anymore, so you figured it was safe. Climbing into one, you carefully took out your flashlight and looked around. It was mostly dusty and smelled of rotting food and rusted metal.

In the corner of your eye, you thought you saw black smoke outside of the car, but when you turned to it, it wasn't there. "Weird…" Jumping out of the car, you turned off your flashlight and took out the flier again. Examining it, you saw the picture of the Circus Ringleader. His eyes were, again, covered by his hat and what was supposed to be a charming smile actually looked malicious.

Taking a deep breath in, you turned around to see the black smoke just barely disappear again. You raised an eyebrow at this until you heard the faint sound of music. It was something you'd hear from a music box or a children's lullaby.

Before you knew it, your feet were walking towards the distant sound. In your head, you were protesting, but it felt like something else was controlling your movement.

Squeezing through tight areas, climbing and jumping from car to car, you put good use into the years you'd taken gymnastics. Keeping your balance and heart rate at a steady pace, you felt like you were being watched with each move you made.

With the music getting a little louder, you knew you were going the right way. After a while, you found yourself willingly going towards the music instead of fighting back. Curiosity grew with each step, knowing you were that much closer to seeing the source.

Climbing up onto a tree, you hung onto one of the branches by your hands, carefully pulling yourself up to sit on the sturdy branch. In the distance, you saw it. The circus tents, the lights, the music….everything looked so inviting.

Deciding to stick with staying in the trees so you wouldn't be seen, you managed to swing from one branch to another.

As you got closer and closer, you sat on a branch a good distance away. Placing your bag on your, lap you took out the book and looked over at the tents. "This can't be real…" Opening the book again you saw the circus layout was exactly the same.

Flipping through the pages, you saw two acrobat and tightrope walkers. One was in a blue outfit and the other in a green matching outfit, both standing side by side. Flipping through the pages of story and art, something caught your eye.

There was a drawing of four silhouettes, but it felt incomplete. Lightly brushing a finger over one, you thought your eyes were playing tricks when you saw golden specks appear when you did so.

Closing the book, you sighed as you put it away. You jumped a bit when you heard a twig snap from underneath you. Quickly putting a hand over your mouth and bringing your knees closer to you, you tried to hide as best as you could.

"Don't be such a frightened stranger. I'm not gonna hurt ya. But it's no use hiding when I already saw you up there."

Your heart dropped hearing that. The man's words meant no harm, but his tone told a different story.

Glancing down at the figure below, you realized who it was. Carefully, you made your way down the tree and stood a good distance away from the man in the red suit.

“Well, what do we have here? A spectator?” He looked over at your bag and noticed how full it was. His smile grew, making him seem more intimidating. “Ah, just another runaway, I see.” Taking off his top hat, you saw his eyes for the first time. Piercing bright red eyes stared down at you as you took a step back. “Now, now….as I said before, no need to be afraid….yet, at least. Let me introduce myself.” He reached his hand out for you to shake. “My name is Phantom, I’m the ringleader of this Circus here, if you couldn’t tell already.”

Hesitantly, you shook his hand. A shiver ran down your spine when his cold hand touched yours. “N-Nice to meet you…” Taking your hand back, you immediately shoved it into your jacket pocket, surrounding it with warmth.

Phantom stood up straight again and placed his hat on his head. “Tell you what, kid, I’ll give you four free tickets to the Circus Of Souls. They’re valid for the whole week we’re here. You and three of your friends can have all the fun you’d like, my treat.” Reaching into his breast pocket, he pulled out four tickets. He smiled as he handed them to you. “You look like you could use a little fun in your life.”

Taking the tickets, you looked up at the man who now you know as Phantom. “There has to be a catch. You don’t just give tickets away like that…”

Phantom held his stomach as he laughed to himself. “Of course, everything has a price to pay. So what would you pay for happiness, then?”

“If I’m being honest….anything really…”

Phantom started to smile again, but you noticed it was the same wicked smile he had, like the picture in the book. “Anything….interesting.” He looked up at the sky for a moment before he heard someone shout by the big tent. “Well, looks like I have to go. You should get home before it gets dark. The woods are a scary place to be at night. Wouldn’t want you getting hurt now, would we. Go home, I’ll see you soon, (Y/n).”

As he turned away, you looked down at the tickets and looked confused because you never gave him your name….so how did he know it? Just as you looked back up to get his attention again, he was gone.

Tag List:

@lady-bee-fechin

@smolwash

@stretchy-longstocking

@wildspeciallavender

@freckled-words

@nerdqueenkat

@kateneedscoffee

@drackenwolfdoctor

@nekosounds

#youtuber egos #youtube egos #natewantstobattle egos #markiplier egos #jacksepticeye egos #natemare #phantom #natpai nwtb #natpai #phantom nwtb #darkiplier #wilford warfstache #marvin the magician #chase brody #Circus Of Souls #Circus AU #circus egos

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ziracona · 3 years

Text

[FGO AU -- The Kid (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, ?)

“…Still nothing?” Her hands are perfectly still, muscles tensed and brow furrowed with all the concentration I ever seen on any mage, but, I think she can tell the answer before I give her a sympathetic smile. “AUGH,” she exclaims, flinging herself back unhappily into her seat, “Why! I’m trying my hardest! I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong!”

The mage folds over like a camp chair and deflates with unhappy sounds, sliding back against her own seat.

“Hey, come on now,” I try reassuringly, “It’s not so bad. I don’t know any magic at all, but pretty much all skills take more than an hour to come together.”

She lets out another long sigh and blows some hair out of her face, then straightens up a little. “Yeah, I know,” she admits, “But it’s not like I only tried today. Actually, I’ve…been trying to practice it like all week. So I’d be ready…”

Whoa.

I…guess I shouldn’t be surprised—I keep underestimating her, and her level of plannin’. She strikes me as impulsive, and she is—to the core—but, she’s smart too, and reasonable. Knows how it works, and thinks, just, goes for the long shots anyway. It’s a combination of traits I both like and can relate to.

“Still,” I offer, “You ain’t got a teacher, ‘n mage stuff’s complicated to learn.” She still looks incredibly down, but she nods as she stares vacantly through the bed past me. “…’Sides,” I add, “That medicine you gave me’s helpin’ a lot already—I’m feelin quite a bit better. And you don’t need to worry about havin’ to heal me, sooner or later. I’m getting’ a steady supply of mana from you, even if it’s slow, so my spirit core’s rebuildin’. It’s just gonna take it a little time. It won’t be like a real—human—bullet wound would be to heal.”

“Really?” she asks, perking up immediately.

“…Yeah.” I’m kinda surprised she didn’t know that. Girl seems to have a roulette-wheel of a library about my kind in her head. “At this pace, I should be back on my feet by mornin’.” Crap, it is morning. I forgot. I give the blinds a glance. “Or, --I mean a few hours.”

“That fast?” she asks, eyes widening.

I shrug, which hurts. Ow. Why…do I keep doing that? OW. DAMN it, Bill. When I’m not moving, I forget how much the entire left side of my chest is in agony when I do. “Not back to normal, but, on my feet,” I manage with my teeth clenched, trying not to let on how much that hurt.

She nods, thinking that over. “Can I do anything to help speed it up?”

I still can’t get used to that.

Kid’s so….fervent, and sincere. And nice to me. I’ve been awake for maybe an hour with her now, and I’m still not remotely used to it.

I refocus quick, and give her a smile. “Not more than you already have.”

“I could get you more food,” she suggests eagerly.

That’s probably true, actually, and I could use it. Just. “…Well, if you got some,” I stutter out. I am not used to feeling flustered, but I am realizing quick I am even less used to people bein nice to me. The odd heroic spirit maybe, but humans? Feels totally off now. Like I’ve snuck in somewhere I’m not supposed to be.

Happy, the kid snags her tray, but before she can leave I say, “—Actually though, uh, --before you go—I’m realizin spectacularly late here you still haven’t told me your name.”

She freezes with her hand on the tray and her face turns red. “CRAP, YOU’RE RIGHT!” the mage whips around to face me and gives a distressed bow. “I’m so sorry—I can’t believe—”

“—I-It’s fine, really,” I assure her, “Just you got me at a little bit of a disadvantage right now-”

“—Right! I-I’m sorry. I totally forgot! I’m Ritsuka Fujimaru,” she says, offering me a hand. It takes me a second to get she wants me to shake it, and I awkwardly do.

“Ritsuka Fujimaru,” I echo, “Well, you already know my name, but seein’ as I got several to pick from, Billy’s good. –Oh, uhm—you got a name you prefer me to call you?”

“Uh.” She gives me a glazed stare like someone looking at an oncoming train. “My…friends in high school called me ‘Gudako’ sometimes.”

I stare right back and forget to take back my hand from our handshake. Damn!! “…Your friends weren’t too nice, huh?” I offer sympathetically.

Her face turns crimson and she gives me a look saying she was praying and expecting that I wouldn’t know what that meant and is crying on the inside that I do, and I feel real bad for her that we spirits get such decent language translation built into us on summon. “No,” she offers in a tiny, beaten voice, staring past me.

It’s real hard not to grin, but I beat the impulse down internally with a shovel and give a sympathetic smile instead. “Well, I really just meant ‘do you prefer ‘Ritsuka’ or ‘Fujimaru’,’” She turns a deeper shade and I see her wish for death a little. “But if it’s any consolation, I would definitely not describe you as boring.”

The kid finally looks me in the eye again, a bit like a kicked dog, but she smiles back after a second and seems to bounce back with it. We both remember we’re still holding hands then and let go.

“Well, thank you,” she says like she means that, “I guess I’m not this week anyway.”

“Hardly,” I agree with a smile.

She returns it and takes the tray and goes back into the kitchenette I gotta assume is back there somewhere, and I get another second to think alone.

I’m doin’ better—a lot, I think. So far I think I’ve been up something close to an hour. All this is very strange to me, and it’s not been a great couple of months, but I’m feelin’ less and less dead by the minute, and the answer to ‘does pain medication work on Heroic Spirits’ seems to be a solid ‘yes’—which—considerin alcohol still does and I knew that, in retrospect shouldn’t be such a surprise to me. A glad one though, for sure. Still.

What now? That’s the real question.

Kid says she just wants to help, and at this point I mostly believe that. There’s usually a catch somewhere down the line, but maybe not. I do think at the least she thinks she means it right now. …And…and. I wish that was all I had to worry about. But, the less pain I feel, the clearer I’m starting to think, and either way, she’s right; I can’t just go back to the throne, or I’ll get resummoned. I’m stuck here like this, tied to her right now. But I can’t stay here indefinitely, and neither can she—actually, come to think of it, if they got any kind of security at that workshop, she might be in danger now, for breaking me out. Mages are…known for their ruthlessness. There could be people already on the way to deal with her. Okay. Better find that out, and fast.

Then, third and last on the list of things for me to figure out and deal with is those mages themselves. And that’s the big one. I’m not the only one of us that’s gonna happen to, if it ain’t already happened to more of us, and I can’t leave the place like that. If they have more spirits already, I need to break them out. And either way, I need to destroy that research and probably the people in charge, so they don’t just rebuild, or they absolutely will. And fast. Not sure this new master is just gonna let me go on a wild murder tear either, though, no matter my motives. Which is a problem…

She’s back then, though, so I’m out of time to focus.

“More okayu, plus some chocolate, if you’re feeling good enough,” she offers hopefully, setting her tray back down, “and I brought you some tea too.”

See that’s the problem, I think mournfully at the sight, I can’t do nothin’, but I can’t just betray her after this either, even if I got a good reason! No one’s ever been this good to me—I can’t just go lie to her and then pull a bunch of bloodshed on her dime—even if she don’t sign off on it, she’ll find out, and she’ll feel responsible, and she’s a kid, I’ll have done that to her! I don’t wanna give some kid who saved me a bunch of guilt trauma! After all this? …Hell. I… But I can’t do nothin’ –I can’t. I got friends in the Throne, and even if I didn’t, I ain’t about to allow that to keep on goin’. We don’t deserve that; it ain’t right. But if I tell her what I got in mind, she might use a command spell and bind me, so. …But still. I can’t… I can’t…do either, but. …Maybe I could convince her to absolve the contract, and get it done after that and before I vanish, just, once I got more strength? I got my Independent Action that could keep me goin’ for a little—even Gunner, I got a lot of my Archer traits, so, once I’m healed, it might be enough to get- …No. Ain’t enough. She’d still see what happened, and know the only reason I got it done was her. Same problem as before. Shit. Shit, this sucks… I’ll be doing somethin terrible no matter what, then…

And I know myself. And that the thing I’m eventually gonna do is not leave that place standin’ with people like me trapped dyin’ inside it. As much regret and guilt as that’s gonna buy me too…

“What?”

I glance up, and she’s got her head cocked. I gotta stop bein’ an open book here. Let me think…

“About Ur-shanabi,” I start hesitantly, “Master, did—”

Her expression changes drastically to distress and she immediately cuts me off. “—Oh, please don’t call me that.”

I forgot I even said it, so it takes me a second to get what she means. “’Master’?”

“Please?” she says again, “I know you’re supposed to, and I’m supposed to call you my servant, but I really hate that.”

Everything else I’ve been thinkin’ about just kinda shuts off and I stare at her, blink. … Y…yeah, me too. Always…

“You’re all heroes, or famous artists, or explorers, or fighters, and we’re just mages. –I mean, even if it was different, I’m pretty sure I’d still hate it,” she continues with a sigh, somewhere deep in thought in her own head, but she comes back and meets my gaze, “But please don’t. I don’t want you to have to think of me that way either. I guess I don’t know how this all usually works in a lot of detail, and I know you’re stuck bound to me right now, but I don’t want you to worry I’m gonna try to make you obey me. I won’t! That’s not why I helped you!” She looks so intense. Leaned forward, one palm on the bed, look on her face that makes me believe she means it. “I want you to know I’m never gonna do that; I mean it. I won’t ever use a command spell on you to make you do something you don’t want to do, I promise.”

Her eyes are amber and bright like coals and full of intent. I find it impossible to look away.

“Not ever. I don’t want to try to use you or control you; I. …I’m…really just trying to help…” She finishes, pulling back once she’s made her statement and looking just a little embarrassed only now it’s done.

“…Well, good,” I finally find my voice, “Because I’ve never been much for the Master-Servant thing anyway. Can’t ever seem to stick to it, and it tends to cause problems down the road.”

She smiles back, happy with my answer and that I’ve accepted her proposal.

Some kind of a mage... This is…almost too much to really even understand right now, but I think she…meant it. She thinks she did. I’m beginin to think calling her a mage at all was plain off. She’s somethin’ else. I always think the kid’s thrown me for about as many loops as she can, and then I get knocked down again, and it’s been less than a day. Don’t bode well and really does for me at the same time.

“’Boss’ then?” I suggest, but I can instantly sense her dislike.

“’Partner?’” she counters hopefully.

That does have a much better ring to it, I gotta say. “Partner,” I concede with a wink, “If you’re sure that’s what you want.”

Never had a master that wanted me to un-know my place before.

“Well, you could also call me ‘Ritsuka’,” she says hopefully and then immediately becomes embarrassed. “Uhm,” she hurries, glancing away when I grin at her, “A-And you’re sure you prefer ‘Billy’? Not Henry?”

Lord it’s been a while since anyone called me that. Sends me a long, long way back. And not really in a good way. I appreciate the thought though.

“No,” I reply.

She seems surprised a little, but I can tell she’s not gonna press me, so, there’s really no reason to say this, but for some reason I want to tell her.

“That’s my middle name, actually,” I say.

“Huh?” says the girl.

“Henry,” I clarify, “Middle name. It’s William Henry McCarty, actually.”

Her brow furrows. “…But I thought…?”

“Step-dad had the same name, and it was too many for one household, so mine got shortened,” I gloss over, “Took it back when I picked my own name on the lamb.”

“So. …You outlaw-named yourself … ‘Your Name The Hot One’?”

It’s my turn to suffer nickname shame, though I’m not too ashamed of that, because it’s pretty funny. Does suckerpunch me a little to get called on it more than 100 years later.

“…I-I don’t know…” I answer automatically before thinking of what to say, “Maybe. …yeah.”

She almost chokes on a laugh. I grin.

“I mean, if you got the opportunity—wouldn’t you? I’m just sayin,” I say casually, past the slight amount of embarrassment I felt and pretty proud of myself again. It was a slick name.

“It’s got flair,” she says approvingly.

“Thank you,” I reply.

“So, what were you gonna ask—before I interrupted you?” she asks, picking up the cup of tea and offering it to me. I take it, feeling immense guilt as our hands touch for a second and I’m stuck thinkin about all the things she’s done for me for no reason other than bein’ kind, and the fact I’m definitely going to turn on that and her, and how awful that is.

I…wonder if it would make things some kind of right if I came back and let her kill me after? No. No, that’d make it worse. Mage or not, I don’t think this kid’s ever hurt anyone. I don’t know what I can do to soften taking this kind of kindness and drawing blood with it, but…

“Ur-shanabi,” I say quietly, working hard to pass off my internal distress as distraction as I hold the little clay cup and feel the warmth. It smells good. I know I have to drink it, and I’ll feel physically better, but everything nice I accept is piling on guilt.

…I wish. I wish I had a choice here, but I can’t let them keep this goin’. I wish I knew a way to make that right, or at least explain to you I’m sorry. And everything she says and does just makes this worse! I don’t want to hurt her. I really don’t. In any other situation, I wouldn’t, but I have to, and I hate it. I don’t want to betray her. I don’t want to make her regret showing me kindness. I don’t want her to feel the way it feels to not do something cold but safe, and then get shot for it.

Hot water slips over the top of my hand and I jerk back and just spill more of the tea, sucking in a sharp breath at the unexpected pain.

“Whoa! –Are you okay?” she asks worriedly, passing me a napkin and leaning over to catch onto my hand and help steady the cup and what’s left inside it, “What happened? Are you feeling worse again?”

Hell! My hands are shaking and I can’t quite get them to stop. Calm down. You don’t gotta do anything right now. You can feel bad later. Just think a second.

“Nah—s-sorry,” I manage, trying to smile at her and not quite sure how well I do, “I uh—I guess I’m just still a little weaker than I thought. I’m fine now.”

“Here,” she says, brow all scrunched up in concern, taking back the tea and passing me the ice pack to set on my hand.

I hate this. I’m terrible. It ain’t fair—it ain’t wrong for me to go back, I gotta, but. I hate this. I hate it.

I take the pack and try to look grateful. “Thanks.”

“Sorry about your hand,” she says.

I wave it off. “It’s already done hurting.”

“…” She waits a second, leaned a little forward expectantly, and I forget what for until she prompts me again. “What? About Ur-shanabi?”

“Oh,” I say. Right. “I was gonna ask how much you know about their operation. –How you even ended up in the right place at all.”

“Oh,” she says, and she loses some color.

Huh?

“Uhm,” she glances away, then back, and seems more herself, but I’m not sure I buy it this time. I don’t think she’s lyin’, per-se, but there’s something else she’s not saying. “Well. I’m from a mage family, but, not a ‘mage’ family—we know about magic, I did—growing up. But, I didn’t ever get any formal training, or anything. So I guess it was more like mage-adjacent in a lot of ways. There was this test I heard about from a friend—a research project on magical circuits, and I was curious.” She glances down at her legs again, but this time she looks far away and almost happy, like she’s revisiting a better moment in her head. “I’d always been curious about myself and magic, and I was excited, because if you participated in the research project, you got to know stuff they found out about your magical circuits—stuff you might be good at.” She glances up at me and gives me an embarrassed smile. “It sounded really cool. I had wanted to know for so long, and I thought—I still think—it would be really great to learn how to do more magic. So, I went.”

The girl—nope—Ritsuka, thinks for a second, then holds out her hand and looks at it. “Apparently I’ve got really unusual circuits.”

“Unusual?” I echo, kind of intrigued. I know jack-all about magic, but I am curious.

She glances over and nods. “Yeah. I thought I did really badly in the study, because I didn’t know any real spells at all, and everyone else did. They pulled me aside after and I thought they were just going to kick me out before we even got results, but, apparently my circuits were so unusual they wanted to do a case study. I’ve got ‘Almost no practical control or ability to utilize them, but possess a nearly inhuman amount of mana.’”

“Really?” I ask. I can’t feel that at all. I’m getting enough to keep me sustained, sure, but that’s it.

“I know, right?” she agrees, nodding and leaning forward, “That’s what I said! But apparently I do. They asked me if I’d come in to do more studies, and I said yes, because I was also curious. And that was Ur-shanabi. I’ve been going there for a while now,” she adds, then stops, gives me a guilty look, then looks away and keeps going in an almost dejected tone. “Uh. But I worked, or, was allowed in, I guess, a totally different part of the building. You were up on the 12th floor. I was on the 4th, R&D testing labs.”

“Oh,” I say, very confused by this reaction from her, and a little concerned by it too if I’m honest, “What brought you up to the 12th?”

“The mage I met with the most was named Nakata. He worked in a lot of projects more important than mine too. I think that was maybe the only time I was ever on the 12th floor,” she answers, “That day, I showed up and waited for a couple hours, and he never showed up in R&D. There were other people who wanted to use the room we usually used for another test, so I asked if I should go home, and the secretary said yes, but I bumped into Dr. Nakata in the elevator on my way out. He said he’d been swamped by a last-minute schedule change, and still wanted to do our test, but he’d be maybe another hour, and that I should just wait for him by his office. Which, is on the 12th floor. I was just standing there, and this big group of mages went into a large room at the end of the hall, so I was curious and watched them, and.” She shrugs.

Yeah, I can fill in the rest.

“I guess you don’t know a lot about what they were doing with me, then,” I say, a little disappointed. Any new information would have been useful. I don’t know that I expected another answer, though.

“…Actually, yes,” says Ritsuka, looking uncomfortable. I glance at her in surprise and she looks flustered and guilty and glances away again. “Uhm. After I saw you, I asked Dr. Nakata what was going on up here, and who you were.”

You coulda been killed, I think in a frozen kind of horror. What were you thinking?

“He told me,” she says simply, “You were a heroic spirit, and they were doing tests on things you could do using them. He even told me what the test was.”

I don’t know what to think or how to feel about that, so I just listen. I wonder why on earth he’d tell her?

She glances up and holds my gaze this time, an undercurrent of almost…incensed feeling somewhere deep in her eyes. “He said they had found a way to keep a summoned spirit away from the throne for a long time at low mana cost, and instead use the connection to their Saint Graph and essence as a fixed unit outside of time now, to generate a potentially limitless source of energy. To…make a heroic spirit into a battery.” I can tell while the rest of it was her echoing, the last statement is her own, and she’s bitter. “I asked how, and he told me,” she continues, “He said you had to trap one right between life and death, so they would give as little presence as possible to anything looking, and wouldn’t find a way to escape or retaliate on their own, but couldn’t actually vanish either. ‘An art and a science, to find the perfect thread to stop at, and keep them in place on the edge of death.’ Stuck. In pain, and too weak to fight back, but here.”

She lets out a long sigh and glances at me and says, “I said that sounded awful, and what about the spirits, and he told me a lot of stuff about heroic spirits being familiars that are meant to serve mankind in whatever way they’re summoned for, no matter how painful, and aren’t people anymore and that’s their intended use.”

Ow. I mean, it’s not new; I hear this from mages all the time, but it’s never fun to hear one say it right to your face. Fuckin mages…

“But, I think he could tell I didn’t like it, even though I was a little scared by then and trying not to seem as much like it,” she continues, glancing down at her hands, “And he told me ‘Don’t trouble yourself. You’re new to this, but it’s a normal part of being a mage. If it helps you rest easier, the one we summoned was Billy the Kid, an outlaw and a murderer from the old American west,’ a-and. That…” her voice gets quieter, like suddenly she thinks maybe she shouldn’t have said any of this, “…I could think of it as divine punishment, in a way. And not have to feel bad.”

…

That. It really shouldn’t bother me to hear. People always act like that to me. Even when I was alive. I think about being sent to hang for a murder I didn’t commit for a moment. I had so many murders on my record by the end of it, but I’ve never pulled a trigger that wasn’t in self-defense or a last resort. But it’s never mattered. You are what people make of you, in the public eye, and in history I guess, no matter what the truth is. And eventually that tends to push you to an ending written about the person you’re described as. I never thought of any of the fights I was in as murder. I guess it’s been a long time since I could even pretend that mattered to anyone but me, though.

…I still hate it.

It hurts. Not so much people sayin’ that—don’t care too much what people think; I know who I am. But, the fact that it just straight up don’t matter what’s true, at all. Even a little… I could have lived a completely different life and not been remembered as any worse at all.

“He thought I’d agree with that.” Her voice is angry. I glance back up, train of thought broken, and Ritsuka looks as mad as she sounded, somewhere else in her head too. It’s a quiet, deep anger. “I didn’t.”

There’s something about how she looks, like she’s an embodiment of what she’s saying, and again it becomes hard to look away if I’d wanted.

“He was wrong. I guess there are some people who deserve to die,” she continues, “I’ve thought about that. About if I think if…if someone killed my family or something, I’d want them to have to die too for it. If I think that’s fair, and right. But. …Even if some people probably deserve to die, nobody deserves to be just kept in pain forever. Even the worst people. I don’t know how anyone could think after more than a day anybody at all could possibly know it’s right to go on hurting someone. Not even the worst person.” She looks distressed by that for a moment, then glances back at me and smiles a little. “I decided that, and that I was going to try to do something, and then I went home and looked you up, and you didn’t even sound that bad.” Her eyes go big immediately and she looks mortified. “—Wait—That sounded bad! I’m sorry! I-I said that wrong. I—I meant—I didn’t—I just mean—he’d said—uh—a-and you didn’t sound like—it seemed like you weren’t so—like stuff went wrong for you more than you were a bad person actually, a-and you didn’t seem like you were really a murderer—"

The poor kid is sweating buckets now. I think she thinks she’ll have offended me sayin’ that, but it’s very much the opposite.

“—I should stop talking. I’m sorry. I-I just—uhm. You were different sounding than I thought before I looked you up is the only thing I was trying to say—I’m so sorry I don’t know why I said any of it at all!” She gives up and hunches over apologetically in shame.

“…I ain’t mad,” I try to assure her after a second.

Ritsuka glances up between her bangs and gives me a sorrowful, worried look.

“…I…think I actually appreciate that,” I continue after a second, figuring it out as I go and then giving her a smile, “I ain’t sure what you read about me, or how true it was, but I’ll take what goodwill I can get.” She raises her head a little more, but still looks worried, so I keep going. “Ain’t offended me—I get it. You were already thinkin of doin’ something dangerous. Gotta know what you’re in for best you can, with a heroic spirit. Only smart to try’n be prepared.”

Looking a little better, she cautiously un-hunches. “Yeah. …I really didn’t mean to say it how I did, though. I don’t think you’re bad! I mean, I know I don’t know you, but I-”

I hold up a hand. I feel like after all this, I really oughta let her off the hook.

“Don’t worry about it,” I say with a sure smile, “You don’t gotta explain yourself, or tell me what you thought, or what you think now. I don’t have to know. I’m aware you’re takin’ a risk on me, especially with my kind of record, and I appreciate it. Probably ain’t easy for you.”

Shit, haven’t thought about that before, but it’s true. Kid might have command seals, but I’m quick, and she’s not experienced. Pretty much any heroic spirit she summoned that wanted to could kill her easy. She didn’t think to use one immediately to order me to not. I’ve been so strung out and nervous of her, I haven’t thought for a second about the fact she’s probably scared of me.

“…Uhm. In light of that, Ma- Partner,” I correct, “I’d like to set a few things straight for you, if you don’t mind?”

She seems to recover a little, straightens up and gives me a very serious nod.

“If you’re worried about me, don’t be. Whatever you heard, truth is I never killed anybody except when it was them or me, or I was defendin’ someone else. I never was a fan of it, either. Only crimes I ever set out to commit were thefts, mostly outa need,” I say, “Where I grew up, once you had a reputation, that was all you had left. I stole food when I was on my own at sixteen, and there weren’t no turning back after that. ‘Bout that simple.”

The gal’s listening attentively, head cocked. Takin this serious. And I’m still thinkin over how this has probably been for her. Angering a group of powerful mages is scary enough. Now she’s contracted to an outlaw spirit, and she’s apparently a mage who’s got no real practice usin spells. She’s basically just a civilian. She’s all alone here too, and somethin like sixteen or seventeen, and she’s got no real idea what I’m gonna be like, or want, or do. I’m not in great shape, but I’m still a heroic spirit, and a lot more powerful than her, and I’ve killed people. That’s a pretty good reason to be scared. I don’t want her to be, though. At all.

“I know all you got’s my word on this,” I say, working hard to convey my sincerity, “But it is the truth. More importantly, you saved my life, and I owe you. I really am grateful. I got no plans to try and hurt you; I promise—you got nothing to worry about.”

FUCK. What I’ve just said hits me like a ton of bricks. Fuck, I should’ve phrased that differently!—no no no—damn it damn it; I should have thought about it first! Hell! I am gonna hurt her! Probably. Not physically, which is what I was thinkin’ about when I said that, and meant, but it’s not technically what I said, shit shit shit, I just promised her something I’m gonna break—oh great, and I must have some amount of that showin’ on my face because she actually does look nervous now. I lied and I actually made her more afraid of me. Great job! Damn it damn it damn it.

“I’m really not the kind of person to do that,” I add quickly, trying hard to save it. This is bad this is bad. “I wouldn’t have a reason to anyway, but you definitely don’t gotta worry about me—” Everything I am thinking to say is wrong. All of it. ‘turning on you’ – a lie. ‘repaying that by making you sorry’ – a bigger lie. Shit. And I feel like it now too, more than before. I’m the worst—I’m terrible. I know I don’t have an alternative, and I have to go back, but this is awful, and I feel very appropriate amounts of guilt about it. I deserve this. “attacking you or something,” I go with, even though it sounds weird in my ears, because I don’t want to outright lie again, and even this much is making me feel miserable. “after you’ve been good to me.”

I hate this. I hate myself. Maybe. …Maybe there’s another way, maybe I can… Can…

She smiles for a moment, happy I said that I think, then slowly looks worried. “You look worried.”

Oh. I guess I’m the one who looks worried.

I…

I can’t. There’s nothing I can do to work this out better than it’s gonna be. I just. …I just…

…Fuck it.

“I am,” I say honestly, turning my head to look at her. She’s so sincere, and so worried. She’s been so good to me. I just. … I just… “I’m worried about Ur-shanabi,” I say, so sure I’m going to regret this in seconds, but doing it anyway because of some deep inherent flaw in who I am, “I’m okay right now, but I figure with me gone, they’ll just take another one of us and do the same thing. If they haven’t already.”

I watch slow horror creep over her face as that clicks. “…I. Would…? Oh. They will. And it’ll be my fault.” she says, glazed-over expression on her face.

What? “No!” I say immediately, “That it’s someone else and not me? It ain’t your fault. It’s theirs—they’re the only ones doin’ it, aren’t they?”

She comes back to herself a little and looks at me, but her face is still drained of color.

“It won’t be your fault,” I say again, “That’s ridiculous, and you know it. …They will keep doin’ it, though. Probably to more and more of us, if they can. Probably they’ll sell the idea to other mages too.” I hesitate, give myself one last solid chance to reconsider this, and don’t. Just pray for luck. I’ve gotten a lot of it the last 24 hours—maybe I have a pinch left. “…Unless I find a way to go back and stop them pretty fast. It’s that, or this is gonna keep happening to us. And it’s only gonna get worse. …I got friends, in the throne. …I don’t want that to happen to any of them. Even for the ones I don’t know, even the ones I don’t like, it’s like you said: nobody deserves that. So. I think. …I gotta go back.”

Her eyes are huge and I can see her running what this means, trying to process it all. I’m praying she’ll agree with me, but it’s such a long shot to get from an idealistic teen.

“Please!” I try, going for the best pitch I can before she decides to force me not to, “I-I know you’ve met those people, and I’m askin’ a lot, but at least think about it. You helped me because you knew what they were doing was wrong—I know it too, and I’m the only one in a position to shut it down. I can’t do nothing, and this is the only way to end it. You don’t know what it’s like. We-“ I’m getting to desperate, and I know it, but I hold up a hand and plow on because so long as I keep talking, she isn’t, and I don’t know what else to try. “—Our bodies are pretty close to what they were before; we feel pain the same, we can just survive more of it. I-I’m lucky, I got shot—I’ve known spirits who were bled to death, or hung, or burned, or decapitated—you can’t imagine what it would be like to be stuck chained down forever with your head just not quite severed all the way enough to kill you. I know it’s not your fight, and it’s not fair for me to ask this, but I have to try and stop them. And I—can’t. Without an anchor. Please...”

Maybe this won’t be a terrible idea. Maybe it won’t backfire on me immediately. Maybe she’ll let me go. Maybe she’ll understand. Maybe I won’t have to—

For a moment, she stares at me, motionless. Then her eyes well up.

Damn it. Damn it; I knew! I knew she’d feel like she had to stop me, and I showed her my hand because I felt bad, and now promise or no, she—

“I’m so sorry…” she whispers, and I’m fully expecting the threat of a command spell to follow that, but instead she tucks her knees up to her chest and folds over into a little ball and starts crying again.

I don’t…rightly know what to do about that, so for a second I just stare at her like an idiot.

“I know it was bad,” I hear muffled and choked up from the little bundle she’s made herself into, “I. I don’t—don’t know how awful it was, I know, but I know it was—I know it was so bad. And it’s my fault it was you.”

What?

“You have to go back?” she asks pleadingly, looking up at me for a second from over her knees, like she’s asking me if I gotta go die in a war, “What if they catch you and put you back where you were? O-or kill you and just summon you into a trap again? I’ll never get back in if—”

“Wait, what do you mean ‘your fault’?” I ask, still stuck on that and very lost again. So much so she’s halfway through her next paragraph before I even clock that me potentially getting trapped again is the only thing she has immediately objected to.

Ritsuka looks at me with her big, tearful eyes, then looks defeatedly at her knees. “…I. One day, several months ago, I showed up for a research day and Doctor Nakata had these boxes on the table, and a bunch of papers.” The kid looks and sounds completely miserable, and exhausted. “I didn’t know what any of it was, so I asked him. He said it was for another project, and to just wait a few minutes while he packed it up. …And then he changed his mind, and said actually, would I come over? He told me they were deciding between a few candidates for a project, and at this point it didn’t really matter which one they started with, and would I like to pick one. I asked what the project was, and he said it was a secret. But, it looked so important, and cool, and I wanted to be involved, so I said yes please, and I went up and picked. I didn’t know what they were.”

Ritsuka grimaces and looks sadder, rests her chin on her knees and exhales slowly. “No, I think I did. I just didn’t know what they were for. I could sense they were all magical, and they were all odd, and specific. An old little clay vase. A shuriken. An earring. A coin. A letter. And a photograph.”

I stare. She makes herself look up at me, and I can see how sorry she feels. “I picked the photograph.”

Ah.

“He even told me later,” she adds quietly, all the spunk gone, “That I picked you. When I asked, after seeing—”

“Good.”

She looks up quickly, surprised.

“I appreciate you feelin’ bad for me,” I continue sympathetically, “But it ain’t your fault, what happened to me. You didn’t know what was goin’ on, and if it hadn’t been me, it’d have just been someone else. Luck of the draw; just how life happens. On top of that, they’d have gone after every one of us on that list eventually, and if I hadn’t been here and now with you, I might not have ever gotten out.” It’s true, and I give her a smile. “Also, this whole thing is a pretty big relief.”

“A relief?” she echoes, confused.

I nod. “You get summoned with a catalyst, ain’t much you can do but show up, like it or not, but I wanted to answer the call when I got it. Up till now I thought my sixth sense had plain stopped workin’ or something. I guess it was actually just because I thought I was answerin’ your call.”

She looks confused for a moment, then smiles slowly. “…Really?”

I give a little head tilt. “Best I can guess.” I honestly don’t know if a summon can work that way at all, but I’d like to think so, and why not? Makes us both feel better.

I meet her gaze and try and get her to smile back, and this time it works.

“I really am sorry,” she says, “even if you’re not mad.”

“Well thank you,” I say, accepting the apology, “But consider it behind us.”

Something she said earlier that I had running in the back of my head comes through hard, and I feel the bottom of my stomach drop out.

“…You said a coin?” I ask, really, really, really hoping my gut feeling is wrong for once.

She nods, catching my expression and getting sympathetically worried along with me.

“…Was it kinda silver, with a face on one side, and a short cross and some words on the back?” I ask.

“Uh. I only saw one side, but it did have a face,” she says nervously.

“Was there a scratch across it? Deep? Diagonal on the face?”

“Yeah,” she says, surprised, “How did you know? What is it?”

Oh no. Oh shit that’s bad. Okay. Okay, this is gonna be okay. I can figure this out. He might not even be here yet, and I can snag the coin and he’ll be fine. All this means for sure is that I have to figure this out, more than before now.

“A friend,” I answer when I remember I need to, “—a catalyst to summon one, I mean.”

“Oh,” she says in a voice like I feel.

For a moment, we look at each other in silence. I got no idea what she’s thinking, but my mind’s far away and frantic, trying to piece together some kind of plan.

“…What do we do?” she asks.

“Huh?”

“You said you gotta go back in,” says Ritsuka as I refocus on her, and I can see she’s come to some kind of decision, “And need me to help, and now you know they’re gonna hurt your friend unless we can stop them. I’ll help you, but I don’t know how. How do we go back and stop them?”

I gape.

“…You…want to help me?”

She gives a nod, looking confused that I’d ask her.

“You-? I mean—it might. …I might have to…shoot someone,” I say. Wow. Great job Billy you sure did sugar coat that and make it sound real fine. Nicely done.

Her eyes widen, and she glances away, hesitates. Then says slowly, “…But if we don’t, they’ll keep torturing heroic spirits for energy.” Working through it herself.

“That’s about it,” I agree sympathetically. It…can’t be easy for her. She’s a civilian, a kid. And she seems like a bleedin’ heart who doesn’t want to hurt anyone. She’s already been a lot more understanding towards my perspective than I expected.

“…So it’ll be bad either way,” she says finally, looking back and meeting my gaze.

I’m kind of taken aback that she’s put it into almost the same words I did to myself, but I nod.

“…That sucks,” she says to herself sadly.

“Yeah,” I agree quietly, looking at my own knees and thinking it over.

“…Is there a way to do it without killing anyone?” she asks after a second, hopeful.

Probably not. Even if I destroyed the whole building, there’s the people in charge who know how to do it, and can and will rebuild. I think she can see that on my face, because her expression falls.

“I…don’t know for sure,” I answer, “But. I think…probably not. … They’d rebuild. –Not all of them—not all of them would know how, but, at least a few will.”

She stares off at nothing, thinking.

I feel worse, somehow. Thought I was doing the nicer thing, basically giving her a chance to stop me, and risking my success. But. Now I think maybe I’ve accidentally been more heartless.

She shouldn’t have to carry a choice like this. Life ain’t fair, and I know that, but I’m finding I like being on the giving end of that even less than the receiving.

“…How old are you?”

The mage turns and looks at me, surprised, and flushes a little. “…I. S-seventeen?”

“Yeah?” I ask.

She nods.

Seventeen. She’s about the age I was when my life started really fallin apart. I hate being a part of that for someone else. I don’t want to.

“You don’t have to have anything to do with it,” I offer quietly, “You could dissolve our contract. Fifty-fifty chance I get the job done before I vanish, fifty—”

“—No!” she cuts in adamantly before I’m even halfway through my pitch, “No way! You’d get trapped there again! That’d be even worse! I made a deal with you to protect you if you trusted me! I’m not just gonna abandon you now.”

I blink. Tilt my head, taken aback by her fervor.

Did you? Is that what the contract was to her? I try to recall her words. ‘My soul becomes your will; your spirit becomes my destiny.’ Right, she said that wrong. But what I want to remember is before that. I try hard. “Please—If you die, they’ll summon you back! I-I can ground you! I can keep you here!” I can’t see much in the image in my head, but I can hear it, I can feel it—the pain and her hand on mine.

…I guess she did.

I don’t know how to respond to that. Look down at my own hand, playing it again in my head.

The kid is thinking still, her brow furrowed with worry. Taps the edge of the little bedside table agitatedly with a finger. “…So. Either we find a way to destroy their research, and get any other spirits they have out, and…maybe fight some of the people in charge,” she says finally, “…or they keep on doing this to you all, forever. There’s no other way things can go? You’re sure?”

I’ve already thought about it, but she’s so sincere and sad I think again, and then nod.

She sees that and glances at her hands and then back at me. “Then. …I guess we have to go back and stop them. You’re right.”

I stare at her. A-are you serious? Even as such a bleeding heart, you really—?

“But nobody gets hurt that doesn’t have to, okay?” she adds fervently, “And. I-I want to try to talk to the people in charge first! I know they won’t change their minds and it’s probably a waste, but.”

“—We can try,” I agree readily, overcome with relief, “Are you sure, though? You don’t have to stay contracted to me, and you sure as hell don’t have to come. You—you’ve already taken a lot of risks for me, big ones, and I know I’m basically returnin that favor by involving you in bloodshed. I don’t want to do that.”

It’s her turn to look surprised, and she blinks and tilts her head right back at me, and for some reason it makes me feel a whole lot better and a whole lot worse at the same time. But also more like I understand her.

“You’re not doing anything to me,” she says simply, “They’re the ones doing something that has to be stopped. It’s not your fault you’re the one who knows about it.”

I…guess that’s true. Feel like I’m getting my own words thrown back at me; maybe I am.

“It sucks,” she adds, “And I’m scared. I don’t want to hurt anybody, or get anyone else hurt. But. Mom and Dad always said it’s just as bad to stand by and let somebody be hurt as it is to hurt them yourself, if you could have done something about it. So. I want to help you, and I will.”

“You’re sure?” I ask again, “It’s…it’s a whole lot, and it ain’t gonna be easy, or safe, and you’re—” If I say ‘a kid’ I think she’s gonna get offended because I would have when I was seventeen. “Young. It shouldn’t be on you to fix.”

“Well, you’re young too,” she says.

Ow. I’m twenty-one. I know I’m short, but at least I’m an adult.

“And you’re mostly dead, so let’s just agree it’s unfair for both of us, but we’re partners, and someone has to do it, and we’re here, so that’s us,” she says very diplomatically.

I give up and sigh, then offer her a hand. “If you’re sure, Partner.”

She takes my hand and shakes it.

“So, what can I do?” she asks as she lets go.

“Well, anything you know about the building’s layout’ll help, and what defenses they might have. Mostly, I just need to get back to fighting shape,” I answer.

She nods. “Food, then?”

I give in again and smile. “Thanks.”

#fate grand order AU #fate series #fate fic #writing #billy the kid #ritsuka fujimaru #fate go #The Kid #The Kid (fic)#I wish I had as much time as my heart wants for writing :'-]#'Gudako' basically means 'boring girl'. and Billy called himself William Bonney which is Irish for 'William Attractive' more or less so they #deserve to both be roasted but in the most loving way possible also Ritsuka my dear I'm so sorry your friends suck

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fangirl530 · 3 years

Text

Acts of True Love Don't Have to be Romantic

AO3 link

Rapunzel touches something she shouldn't while at the spire, sending her into a deep sleep. As the trope goes, only an act of true love can wake her up. No problem, this will be easy!

... Right?

“-and I’m telling you, the best way to read is to lie on the floor with the book above you,” Calliope said from her place on the floor. “You’re all doing it wrong.”

“Okay,” Rapunzel interjected, closing her book. “Maybe we should take a break.” She, Eugene, Varian, Lance, Angry, and Catalina were at the Spire, helping Calliope to find out what the various artifacts it held did- as they weren’t labeled.

Rapunzel had warned the younger members of their party that Calliope could be a bit… egocentric, but words hadn’t prepared them for meeting her. She could tell they were about to snap.

Immediately after she voiced her suggestion, Angry jumped to her feet. “Race you outside!” she said to Catalina, before sprinting to the door. Catalina jumped up too, chasing after her with a determined smile. Lance stood, stretching.

“I’m going with them,” he said. He grinned. “Keep them out of trouble, you know?”

Calliope nodded. “There are a lot of dangers out there,” she said. “Watch out for the wolves.”

Lance chuckled. “Yeah, sure,” he said, smirking. “We’ll be careful.” he left, and Calliope frowned, looking at Rapunzel.

“You're not more concerned about them?” she asked. Rapunzel shook her head.

“No, they’ll be okay- they know what they’re doing,” she reassured. Calliope rolled her eyes.

“You Coronans,” she said. “It must be awful to be so dumb.”

“Hey, why don’t we look at the artifacts?” Rapunzel suggested quickly as Varian gaped at the keeper. “Maybe they have a clue on them about what they are?”

“Of course!” Calliope grinned. “The artifacts may have inscriptions on them about how they’re used. That’s brilliant, I’m so glad I thought of it!”

Eugene put an arm around Varian. “Goggles and I will check these ones, over here,” he said, leading the grumbling boy away from her. Rapunzel and Calliope went their own way, examining various artifacts. After setting down a box with a heart on the lid, Rapunzel moved to a spinning wheel and knelt in front of it. She tilted her head to one side, curious.

It didn’t look magic- the spindle wasn’t even sharp! She reached out, tapping her finger against it- and hissed as it pricked her finger.

“You’re sharper…” her eyes grew heavy, and she yawned. “...then...you look…” her eyes closed, and she fell over with a soft thud.

Varian looked up from where he was examining a sword, in the direction he’d seen Rapunzel go.

“Did you say something Rapu-” he gasped, eyes widening with horror. “Rapunzel!” he cried, running toward her. He was vaguely aware of Eugene close on his heels, but he only had eyes for the unconscious princess.

He fell to his knees at her side, fear filling him. Was she…?

Eugene must have had the same thing in mind, because he reached out and placed his fingers on the side of her neck. After a moment, he sighed in relief.

“She’s just asleep,” he reassured Varian. “Still not good- but better than the alternative.” he looked at the wheel in front of them, frowning. “It must have been this thing that caused it.”

Varian looked around, scanning the piles of books. “I think I saw a book on artifacts related to sleep earlier,” he said. He started to rise to his feet, prepared to search the piles, but Calliope’s yell stopped him.

“I’ve got it!” she called, waving the book in question around with a triumphant grin. The book slipped from her hand, and Varian’s eyes widened. He ducked, and the book flew over his head and hit Eugene in the face. The man grunted, and when Varian turned to look at him, he had an extremely unamused expression on his face. Varian snickered, reaching for the book.

“Nice catch, Eugene,” he teased, opening it and flipping through the pages.

“Yeah yeah,” Eugene said, smirking as he shuffled over next to him, placing his hands on his shoulders and leaning over to look past his head at the book.

“So,” Calliope said loudly, plopping down next to Varian and leaning up against his side, scanning the book. “Find anything useful?” Varian frowned at her as he flipped the page.

“No, not yet- wait!” he pointed at the page, excitement in his voice. “Here! ‘The spindle of sleep’. Designed to fool its targets by seemingly being blunt, and when they touch it, it puts them in a deep sleep.” he dragged his finger down the page. “It says here, an act of true love can wake her up.” his eyes narrowed. “But there’s a part at the bottom that’s blotched out with ink- I can’t make it out.”

“It’s probably not important.” Calliope shrugged it off. “Anyway, an act of true love- that should be easy.”

Eugene sat at Rapunzel’s bedside with Pascal, watching for any changes. Of course, he’d tried kissing her- which had been slightly awkward, at first. Varian had been courteous enough to look away, but Calliope had stared at him until Varian put a hand on her shoulder and suggested they go tell Lance and the girls what had happened.

After they were gone, Eugene had pulled Rapunzel up gently, supporting her head, and kissed her gently. He’d sat back, waiting- and nothing had happened. Unsure what to do, they’d all said goodbye to Calliope and rushed back to Corona.

“Hey buddy,” Lance’s voice said, drawing he and Pascal’s attention. The man stepped into the room with Angry and Catalina close behind him. “How are you holding up?”

Eugene sighed. “I’m worried about her, but I know we’ll find a way to wake her up- Varian is in the library right now, searching for a solution.” he stood. “I’m going to go help him- could you stay with Pascal and keep an eye on Rapunzel for me?”

“Sure,” Lance agreed. “But, that’s not what I meant.” Eugene looked at him, confused, and he continued. “With your kiss not waking her up,” he explained. Eugene snorted, much to the Schnitz family’s confusion.

“Oh, that,” he said. “No, I’m not concerned about it at all.”

“Oh no, he’s gone mad with worry,” Lance stage-whispered down to his daughters. Angry raised her hand, grinning maniacally.

“Can I be the one to smack him?” she asked. Eugene rolled his eyes.

“I’m fine, guys- really. I know a lot about acts of true love- mostly because most of the books I read got it wrong.” he crossed his arms smugly. “As long as the person doing the act of true love truly loves the person, it will work- the person doesn’t have to love them back.”

“Huh, guess all those romance books we read came in handy after all,” Lance mused. Eugene grinned.

“I know, right?”

“But then why didn’t Rapunzel wake up?” Catalina asked, confused.

“Remember how the book had a part at the end that was blotched out?” Eugene asked. “It must have been a stipulation- a rule, or something. So it’s not easy.”

“It never is,” Lance agreed. He clapped Eugene on the shoulder. “Go help Varian- we’ve got things covered here.” Pascal jumped from the bed to his shoulder and nodded.

“Thanks Lance,” Eugene said. He gave them a cheerful smile. “I’ll be back soon- it shouldn’t take too long! How many books can there be?” he left, missing the sympathetic look Lance sent him.

“Poor guy’s never searched the magic section in that library,” he said, shaking his head. “Better make yourselves comfortable- we’re gonna be here a while.”

Eugene walked through the castle, heading for where he thought the library was. He had been in there before- not often, but enough to have a pretty good idea how to find it. Sure enough, he soon came to a large set of doors that he definitely remembered belonging to the library.

He opened them and stepped inside, turning to close them behind him.“Hey Varian,” he called over his shoulder. “Did you manage to find any books on-” he stopped, jaw dropping at the sight before him.

“Hey,” Varian said, waving. “Yeah, I managed to find a few.”

A few was an understatement. Varian and Ruddiger were surrounded entirely by stacks of books, at least six books tall.

“Well,” Eugene said, laughing slightly. “We’d better get started, huh?”

“I can’t believe this,” Varian said, slamming closed the book he’d just flipped through with a thud. “Every one of these books has ‘an act of true love’ as the only way to wake someone from an enchanted sleep!” Ruddiger patted the boy’s knee reassuringly, and Varian scratched behind his ears with a slight smile.

Eugene closed his own book, sighing. “Same here,” he said, standing. “I’m going to go grab us something to eat, and let Lance know he can take Angry and Catalina to the kitchen to eat too.” he gestured to the pile of unread books. “You okay with taking the rest of these up to Rapunzel’s room?”

“Sure,” Varian said, grabbing for another book and flipping it open to the index.

“I’ll come to get you when the food’s done,” Eugene said. Varian looked up at him with a grateful smile.

“Thanks, Eugene,” he said. Eugene smiled back.

“No problem, goggles.” After he left, Varian went back to reading. The one in his hands quickly turned out to be useless, so he pushed it aside with the others and picked up a new one.

“Come on,” he muttered as he flipped it open to the section on enchanted sleeping spells. His heart sunk as he saw yet another page explaining acts of true love- but it lofted again when he spotted a little three next to one of the words. “A footnote!” he said, excited. He scanned the text at the bottom of the page until he found the three.

“‘For a potion to reverse the effects of a sleeping spell, turn to the potions section- located on page fifty three.’ yes!” he grinned, practically vibrating as he flipped through the book. Quickly skimming the page gave him all the information he needed to make the potion. He grinned. “I found it, Ruddiger!” he said to the raccoon, who chittered and crawled onto his shoulders as he stood. He put a paper in the book to mark the page, and ran from the room.

He wanted to get the potion done as soon as possible… but first, he had to see Rapunzel. Once he arrived, he poked his head inside and found it empty, except for the princess, and Pascal, who was sitting by her side on the bed.

Eugene must have come to relieve Lance and the girls already, he thought, stepping in. he crossed the room to Rapunzel’s bed and kneeling in front of it, placing his arms on the surface.

“I think I found a way to wake her up,” he said to Pascal. The chameleon immediately brightened (literally- he could have sworn he turned a shade or two brighter green) and Varian smiled. “I have to get the ingredients first, but it’s not hard to make.” stood, puffing his chest out. Varian looked at him, confused for a moment before realizing what Pascal was trying to tell him. “You want to come with?” he asked. Pascal nodded, and Varian grinned. “Well, welcome aboard!” he held out a hand, and the chameleon crawled onto it and crawled up to his shoulder with Ruddiger.

Before he left, he looked down at Rapunzel and hesitated for only a moment before lifting her up gently and giving her a tight hug.

“Hold on just a little longer Rapunzel,” he whispered into her shoulder. “Just a little longer, and we’ll have what we need to reverse the spell.” he laid her back down and left the room, determination filling him. This had to work- it just had to.

-(just a few moments after Varian left)

Eugene backed into the door, pushing it open, a tray of food in his hands. “Hey Goggles,” he called out. “You here? I got the food- even got some fruit for the frog and an apple for Ruddiger.”

“Eugene?” a voice that was definitely not Varian’s said. Eugene slowly turned around, and was met with his wife sitting up in bed and watching him, a soft smile on her face.

“Rapunzel!” he said, his face breaking into a smile. He barely remembered to put the food down before running across the room, throwing his arms around her. “You’re awake!”

She giggled, hugging him back. “I’m awake,” she agreed.

Eugene pulled back, though keeping his hands on her shoulders. “Not that I’m not grateful, but… how?” he asked. “The act of true love was the only way we knew- and it didn’t work.”

“I actually have an explanation for that!” Rapunzel grinned. “There was a really nice person in that dreamscape I was in- they said that the act of true love had to be one that was platonic. Like, friendship.”

“Ah, that makes sense!” Eugene grinned, though he still looked puzzled. “So… who was it?” he asked. Rapunzel’s smile grew softer.

“It was Varian,” she said. “I could hear him, in the dreamscape- and I felt his hug.” she brought a hand to her chest. “I felt a warmth, right here, and I could feel his arms around me. OH!” she grabbed Eugene’s shoulders, her expression becoming urgent. “We have to go stop him! He’s about to go get ingredients for a potion that was supposed to reverse the effects!”

“Come on then!” Eugene whisked her off the bed, dropping a kiss onto her forehead as he did so. Together, they rushed down to Varian’s lab.

Varian ran back and forth across his lab, picking up various flasks and containers to store the ingredients in and putting them in his backpack. He also dropped in some of his alchemy solutions and creations, in case he needed them.

“Okay,” he said, shuffling through it. “I think that’s everything we'll need! I just need to get my cloak. Now where is it…” as he looked around his lab, he heard the creak of the door opening and footsteps coming down the stairs. “Hey Eugene,” he said, spotting the cloak and crossing the room to grab it. “I think I found a way to wake Rapunzel- Ruddiger, Pascal and I are about to get the ingredients I’ll need.”

“Varian,” an achingly familiar voice said, laughter in their voice. Gasping, Varian spun around and saw Eugene and Rapunzel standing at the bottom of the stairs.

“Rapunzel?” he whispered. Rapunzel nodded, and Varian rushed forward and into her arms. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” he said, after pulling back. He looked at her quizzically. “But… how did you wake up? Except for the potion, you can’t wake up unless you’re given an act of true love.”

“I was!” Rapunzel said, beaming. “You gave me an act of true love!” Varian took a step back, eyes widening.

“But- I mean, I love you, but I don’t-” he looked at Eugene, alarm filling him. “Eugene, I swear I don’t-”

“It’s okay, Goggles,” Eugene said, chuckling. He put a hand on Rapunzel’s shoulder. “Blondie, you can’t stop there- you need to explain a little further.”

“Right,” Rapunzel said, blushing. “Sorry, I got excited. The act of true love has to be platonic,” she explained to Varian. “Not romantic. It has to come from someone I’m not romantically involved with.” she smiled, putting a hand on his shoulder. “It was your hug that woke me up.”

“Wow,” Varian said faintly, as Pascal came across the floor on Ruddiger’s back. Ruddiger crawled onto Varian’s shoulder as Rapunzel picked him up and held him close to her face, giggling as he hugged her cheek.

“I missed you too buddy,” she said, kissing his head. After transferring him to her shoulder, she put an arm around Varian, and stuck her other through Eugene’s arm. “Let’s go find Lance, Angry, and Catalina,” she said, pulling them both to the door. “I want to see them.” They found the family easily- they were still in the kitchen, eating. When Rapunzel walked in, both girls gasped and rushed to her, latching onto her waist.

“You’re awake!” Catalina said, grinning. Rapunzel laughed, squeezing them both.

“I am,” she agreed. After they released her, she was swept into a hug by Lance. She hugged him back, the smile never leaving her face.

“Glad you’re back, Rapunzel,” he said, with a grin equal to hers.

“I’m glad to be back,” Rapunzel said, as they separated. She looked from him, to Eugene, to Varian, and to the girls, her eyes bright with emotion. “I love you guys, so much,” she said. “I’m so lucky to have a family like you.” she spread her arms out, grinning widely. “Group hug!”

Angry and Catalina dove in immediately, relatching themselves to her waist. Varian put his arm around her and placed the other on Angry’s shoulder, a little smile on his face. Eugene and Lance stood on the outside, hugging everyone in their little group- including each other. Ruddiger chittered, grinning at Pascal (who had crawled onto Rapunzel’s head). The chameleon smiled back.

For a girl who had grown up alone in a tower, with only a cold woman who only cared for her power as a mother… she sure had a big, loving family.

#tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure #Rapunzel #Varian #Eugene Fitzherbert #Lance Strongbow #Catalina #Catalina tts #Angry #Angry tts #tts Angry #tts Catalina

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hologramband · 3 years

Text

Never The 1

(gif crds cryinghimbos)

Alive!Reggie x Fem!Reader

Word count: 4.5k

A/N: This is taking place after the boys cross over, I like the little theory where “crossing over” means just “crossing over” back to life or something, idk we gonna roll with it tho lol.

The song I use in this is “Never the 1” by ROSIE

The hallways were busy as you and Flynn walked side by side to your next class. This dreary Monday was almost over, just one class stood between you and hanging out with your friends.

You knew how to sing, but you never thought you were any good, so you tended to keep to writing lyrics here and there, but mostly helping with Flynns sides of things when it came to advertising the bands events and other things, helping the band in a few different ways.

“So, (Y/n), how have things been going with you and Dylan? Is he starting to be more okay with you spending more time with the band?” Flynn started a conversation while waiting for you to switch your books at your locker.

Dylan was your boyfriend of seven months, things had been good between the two of you until you started wanting to spend more of your time with Julie and the boys the last month or so. You had an image issue before you met Dylan, never really being confident in yourself, you liked hiding in the background. Julie and Flynn had always included you in everything they did, but something just finally clicked with Dylan, he made you feel special.

When the band took off you were ecstatic, growing close with each of the boys, especially Reggie, your personalities meshing really well, and Alex, him becoming like a brother to you.

You still made time for Dylan, hanging out with him when you weren’t helping the band, even invited him to practices when you went, but for some reason he wasn’t a fan of hanging out with your friends.

“Eh, he’ll come around eventually. He can’t expect me not to have any friends other than him.” You shrugged your shoulders and closed the locker door, the two of you changing topics and continuing to class.

When you get there a smile instantly grows on your face, this was your favorite class of the day since you shared it with both Flynn, Julie, and the boys.

“(Y/n)! Hi! Are you coming to practice today?” Reggie smiled as you sat in your seat across from him.

“Well duhh, wouldn't miss it.” You smiled back and looked around at the rest of the group, falling into a conversation with the rest of them.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, signaling you got a text from someone, looking down you saw it was Dylan.

-Hey babe, something came up so I, won’t be able to go to Julies with you after school, sry :/-

You frown at the message, he hasn’t been to a single practice yet, “something” always coming up, but send a short reply saying it was okay before the teacher, Ms. Adamson walked in and started her lesson.

“Alright class, for the next project I want to get your creative juices flowing,” She clasps her hands together and moved to the board, switching her powerpoint slide to the instructions to the new assignment, “by the end of the week I want you all to have an original piece prepared to present or preform for the class.”

You felt your eyes widen and your body stiffen, the main reason you haven’t ever let anyone hear you sing was due to your crippling stage fright.

You glance around and see the rest of your friends smiling and high fiving each other, seeing this as another opportunity to bring a light to the band.

“Is this a group project?” Luke raised his hand and asked, only to be met with a smirk and a shake of the teachers head.

“Unfortunately, Mr. Patterson, this is an individual project, consider it a time for everyone to showcase what talents they have and are keeping hidden,” Ms. Adamson laid her hand on your desk and sent a subtle wink your way.

She had walked in on you one day in the music room while you were messing around with some new lyrics for the song the band was working on.

You sunk in your seat a bit more and looked to see the rest of your friends looking your way, slight confusion on their faces, meaning they also saw the wink your teacher had sent your way.

The rest of the lesson was focused on the details of the project and her giving ideas on what could be done other than music, such as spoken word, a painting, etc. You spent the rest of class figuring out what you could do other than sing, but had a feeling Ms. Adamson would accept nothing else from you.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the day and everyone stood from their chairs and collectively walked to their lockers, getting ready to walk to Julies for practice.

You made your way to your own locker, smiling when you saw Dylan standing to the side of it.

“Hey, Dyl.” You went to give him a kiss, but he moved his head so your lips landed on his cheek instead.

“Sorry I can’t come today, I bombed a test in math so Mr. Douglas is making me stay after with a tutor for the next week to fix my grade.” He shrugged his shoulders and his eyes were darting from place to place.

Deciding not to comment on his weird behavior, pushing it off as just embarrassment of failing the test.

“No worries, you’ll make it to one eventually,” You smiled at him and saw the crew walking towards you, everyone always walked to Julies together after school.

Dylan noticed your gaze shifting and stiffened at the sight of all of them.

“Hey,” You placed a hand on his arm, confusion growing, “everything okay?”

He simply shrugged your hand off.

“Yeah, yeah, just gotta get to the library, see ya.” He left a chaste kiss on the top of your head as he rushed in the opposite direction of your friends.

“What was all that about?” Alex commented as he swung an arm around your shoulders.

You were still in shock that he ran off like that, but again blamed it on the bad grade, as dumb as it was.

“Not sure,” you mumbled, quickly changing your attitude, “you guys ready to head out?”

With nods all around you all started the short walk to Julies.

Practice went great, the band trying out new songs that Luke and Julie had written, you fixing a few of the lines so the song flowed a bti better.

During one of the breaks, everyone decided to sit and talk about the upcoming project.

“What are you guys gonna do? Not being able to play as a band?” You wiggled your eyebrows at the group and they all kinda shrugged.

“Oh I know what i'm doing! “Home is Where My Horse Is” will finally get the recognition it deserves!” Reggie stretches his arms along the back of the couch that the two of you were sitting on, setting his feet on the table in front of him.

Laughter erupted from everyone, already knowing that was what Reggie would do.

“What about you,” Alex turned the attention to you, “Ms. Adamson sent a pretty pointed wink your way when explaining it was gonna be individual.”

You felt your cheeks burn a bit and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Eh, you know how she is, I’m sure I’ll come up with something.” You looked around and realized that your answer hadn’t satisfied the group.

Your phone again buzzed with a text from your mom saying you needed to get home.

“Oh, sorry guys, mom needs me for Dinner,” you stood quickly.

“Ah, saved by ‘mom’,” Julie winked.

You laughed as you gathered your things.

“I’ll walk you!” Reggies exclaimed as he jumped to his feet, meeting you by the garage doors.

This was a pretty normal experience for the two of you, Reggie and you always enjoying the walk together, being more open with just the two of you rather than the whole group.

“Lets go, partner,” you winked at the reference to his growing love for country music.

It wasn’t a terribly long walk, but after the sun went down it was always safer to have someone with you.

Another thing that happens when the sun goes down is the reminder that you forgot a jacket, a slight chill running down your spine. You had hoped that you covered it up with a couch, but within seconds an extra layer of warmth was thrown across your shoulders.

Reggie had taken his flannel from his waist and given it to you, you thanked him as you pushed your arms through the sleeves.

“So, how are things with you and Dylan? You seemed upset earlier when we got to your locker.” Reggies glanced at you.

“Oh, you know, it’s fine, he’s just been a bit distant lately, i’m not sure what’s going on but i'm sure we’ll get through it.” You shrugged and looked at your shoes, suddenly finding them very interesting.

“There’s something else, c’mon, (Y/n),” Reggie slightly bumped his shoulder into yours, causing you to look up at him, a slight smile from the action on your face, but falling instantly.

“Um,” you look back at your shoes, “it’s really nothing, silly really.” You shrugged your shoulder again, stopping as you got to your driveway.

The real reason you had been so shocked when Dylan walked away earlier was due to him not telling you he loved you, he had always said those three words before parting your side, no matter the circumstances, for the last four months of your relationship. When he didn’t say them this afternoon it took you by surprise.

“Well, you know i’m always here right?” Reggie moved a finger under your chin, forcing you to look up in his direction.

“No matter what it’s about, whether you need to rant, cry, or share something really cool, I’m always here to listen,” He smiles down at you, causing you to crinkle your nose and smile back, bringing him into a short hug.

“Thanks, Reg. It really means a lot.” You pull away and walk the last few steps to your house, hesitating at the doorway, turning back as Reggie spoke again.

“Have a good night, (Y/n),” Reggie smiled at your retreating figure, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“You too, see you tomorrow!” You waved and walked in the door to your house, pulling his flannel a little tighter once the door closed, then shaking the thoughts that were entering your head away.

Reggie was just a friend, plus you had a boyfriend, Dylan might be distant right now, but he was still there…

---

The next few days had gone by quicker than you anticipated, it now being Thursday and you still didn’t have a plan for what you were going to do in class the next day.

You had tried writing a few lyrics, but nothing felt right, you couldn’t find the right inspiration for what you wanted to do, you honestly didn’t even know what you wanted to do. At this point your game plan was to fake being sick so you wouldn’t have to stand up in front of the class, gasping like a goldfish out of water.

You sat in your last class of the day, all your friends talking about what they were doing tomorrow, Alex had a drum solo with a few lyrics he had come up with, Luke singing one of his songs he was able to whip up within an hour, Julie doing the same, Flynn had made a really cool beat she was going to freestyle to, and Reggie had Home is Where My Horse Is.

Ms. Adamson had given you the day to work and finalize your projects for tomorrow, and you were starting to feel overwhelmed.

The bell rang and snapped you out of the anxious trance you had been in.

You walked to your locker and tried to figure out what you were going to do, you had under 24 hours to figure something out now.

“Hey, (Y/n), you coming?” Reggie and the rest of the group were at your side, waiting to see if you were going to walk back with them.

“Um, I think I’m gonna stay back today, I really need to focus and figure out what I’m going to do for tomorrow,” You ran a hand through your hair and let out a breath, “Plus I think Dylan is tutoring in the library so I might see if he can help or something, I haven't really much from him lately.” You lightly laughed at how sad that sounded, and shook your head, waving to the group as you walked towards the library.

“Let me know if you need anything!” Reggie called out and you sent a grateful smile his way.

You didn’t see Dylan when you walked in, so you choose a secluded spot in the corner, trying to get some work done.

After 30 minutes of staring at the blank paper, you give up, deciding to call it a sick day tomorrow and pray that something comes to you this weekend.

As you pack up your things you scan the room again, curious if maybe Dylan had just come in without you noticing, but frown when you don’t see him.

You start drafting a text to him that you were looking for him, but stopped when you heard a book fall from the shelves a few rows away, and a moan that sounds quite familiar.

Slowly, you walked down the aisle paralleling where you heard the noises coming from, and froze by what you saw through a break in the books.

Dylan was here after all, but he had his hands all over someone else, lips on someone who wasn’t you.

A tear escaped from your eye as you turned away, deleting the text message you were going to send and starting a new one.

-Hey, I was looking for you in the Library. I found you… I left the bracelet you got me on the table by your aisle. -

You removed the small charm bracelet the boy had given you after your three month anniversary and placed it on the table, hit send, and blocked his number.

Tears were flowing freely now, as well as your thoughts.

Did he ever care?

Was I just a joke to him?

Did he ever love me?

Why wasn’t I enough?

You found yourself in the school's music room, taking a deep breath as you sat down, pulling out your song journal.

Inadvertently, Dylan had given you just the inspiration you needed for your song.

Your fingers flowed freely on the keys, finding the right melody for the emotions you were feeling. You played and wrote the notes down, some lyrics came now, but you were focused on the melody.

The janitor eventually came around and told you that you had to leave, and you rushed home, not wanting to forget the lyrics you had in your head.

You skipped dinner and ran straight to your room when you got home, the tears starting again as your phone flashed with a text, not due to the sender, but the picture on your lock screen.

Angrily you opened your phone and deleted all the pictures of the boy you had loved, not wanting the reminder that you had trusted him flashing in your face anymore.

While deleting the pictures you ran across one of you and Reggie messing around in the garage, the next one of Flynn and Julie with their arms wrapped around you.

You smiled and set your lock screen as the picture of the girls and you, your new background the picture of you and Reggie.

Feeling a bit better, you went back to work on writing the lyrics that you had been thinking of.

When you finally finished, you saw the clock flashing 4am at you.

Having all your emotions finally written out on paper made you feel worlds better, and you found sleep easy after, but just too easy at that.

When you woke up the next day you saw that you had already missed the first few classes of the day.

Reggie, Julie, and Flynn had all called and left text messages asking where you were.

Cursing, you got up and dressed, throwing the first things on that you could find, one item happened to be Reggies flannel he had lent you the other day, giving you a sense of ease when you breathed in his cologne.

When brushing your teeth you saw your reflection and gasped, no amount of makeup would cover up the red puffy eyes that blessed your face.

With a sigh you splashed some cold water on them, helping a little, only being able to tell now if someone was really looking.

Not having the time to focus on this you gathered your things and ran to school.

You walked through the doors and took note of the time, and made your way to the lunch room where you found your friends at their usual spot.

“Well, well, well, there she is,” Flynn called as she saw you approaching.

You smiled at the girl and sat down, trying to keep your head down, hoping they wouldn’t take notice of your appearance, but to no avail.

“Babe,” Julie turned your face towards her, “what happened to you?”

Before you could answer you felt a hand on your shoulder, turning to see Dylan standing there, anxiously rocking back and forth on his feet.

“Um, can we talk?” He scratches the back of his neck, looking from your friends to you.

“There’s nothing to be said,” you whisper and turn away from him, but he just sat in the empty seat in front of you.

“You haven’t been answering my texts, just let me explain, please.” He was getting stressed, you weren’t giving in like you typically did.

“They won't go through, I blocked you,” you shrug, “and there's not much to explain, you lost me the second you decided to make out with Sara in the library, sure was a pity you got caught, wasn’t it?” You shot daggers with your eyes as you spoke, a slight gasp from Flynn came from your side.

Dylan felt the hostility from the band and shifted in his seat, why he was still here was beyond you, but the bell quickly ended the conversation.

You stood and tried to walk away, just for Dylan to catch your wrist and turn you towards him. Before he could get a single word out you felt yourself word vomiting.

“Why wasn’t I enough for you?” the question that had been ringing in your head since you caught him finally came out, a single tear running down your cheek.

His mouth opened and closed a few times, and you just nodded and pulled your wrist away from him, only a few steps away before Reggie had you pulled into his arms in a tight hug, soon joined by Alex and Luke, then the girls.

They pulled away and you wiped your tears, smiling at them.

“C’mon, we gotta get to class.” You muttered, Reggie slinging his arm around your shoulders, not an abnormal thing, but it was just what you needed in this moment.

Class was going by quickly, the rest of the band performing their pieces, Reggie just sitting down from singing HIWMHI.

“Alrighty, last, but certainly not least we have (Y/n),” She smiled at you and you stood, making your way to the piano in the corner, the band questioning this since they only thought you knew how to play the guitar, just wait until they hear you sing.

You clear your throat and start on the keys, taking a breath and letting the music take over.

“Met you in October

You talked sweet and a little slow.

And I thought, mmm

I think I, mmm”

It was obvious to almost everyone in the room that this song was about Dylan, what most of the room wasn’t aware of was that this was a break up song.

“Warm eyes and your hands cold

You sang soft like a sore throat

And I thought mmm

I think I mmm

Cause I know you're dangerous

I saw through your games and played them

And I hate myself for letting you in”

You look at Ms. Adamson before continuing to the chorus, he eyes already gleaming with pride that you chose to sing. You tried to send a mini apology for the curse word that was coming in the next part.

“Now I could write 10 songs 'bout 9 ways you fucked me over

Only took you 8 second to forget 7 months together

We were up till 6 in the morning

5 ways a week

You said 4ever then left before I counted to 3

Loved you a little 2 much but I was never

I was never the 1”

You took a deep breath and played the keys a bit before moving onto the next part of the song.

“You mеt me on a Friday

I dressed up likе a first date

So you'd think, "mmm

I think I mmmm"

And I knew we loved when

You stayed past 2 am

And I thought mmm

Does he think mmm”

You looked up and opened your eyes, making eye contact with your friends, Julie and Flynn having small tears in their eyes, knowing this song was written with fresh heartbreak.

The boys all had looks of shock written on their faces, this being the first time hearing you sing, and the emotion ripe in your voice just making it that much better.

Reggie had a hint of a smile on his face, pride radiating from him watching you blossom in front of him.

“And I knew you were dangerous

I saw through your games and played them

And I hate myself for letting you in”

You closed your eyes and launched into the chorus again, really letting the emotion carry you through the rest of the song.

“Now I could write 10 songs 'bout 9 ways you fucked me over

Only took you 8 seconds to forget 7 months together

We were up till 6 in the morning

5 ways a week

You said 4ever and left before I counted to 3

Loved you little 2 much but I was never

I was never the 1”

You took your hands from the keys and repeated the last line again, just your voice filling the crowded classroom.

“Loved you a little 2 much, but I was never, I was never the 1”

You held out the final “1” and then stepped back from the piano, applause breaking from across the classroom.

You shyly courtesy and quick step it back to your seat, your stage fright quickly returning.

“I would like to thank you all for your participation today, and another thanks for being vulnerable with everyone in the room. Everyone was absolutely amazing, I'll have grades up by Monday, have a good weekend!” Ms. Adamson dismissed the class and all your friends' eyes turned to you.

“WHY DID YOU NEVER TELL US YOU COULD SING?” Luke exclaimed with wide eyes and flailing hands.

You giggled a bit and shrugged your shoulders.

“Girl, that was so good, did you write it all last night?” Julie shook her head in amazement.

“Uh yeah, inspiration hit and I just wrote until it was finished.” You shrugged and wring your hands together, not wanting to focus on the moment that inspired it all.

“Um, are we going to the garage to hang? I can go get my things,” You tried to change the subject by standing and starting towards your locker, Reggie hot on your heels.

“(Y/n)! Wait up!” You stopped and waited for the boy to catch up, continuing as soon as he was by your side.

“You really have a great voice,” Reggie gushed as he looked down at you.

A blush crept on your face as you shook your head.

Reggie leaned against the neighboring lockers to yours as you gathered your things, looking up at him when you saw his muscles tense.

You then followed his gaze to see him looking at Dylan walking on the opposite side of the hall, arm slung around Sara, like he used to with you.

You returned your gaze back to your locker, a new rush of emotions flowing through you.

Reggie lightly rested a hand on your arm and pulled you into his chest much like he had a few hours prior.

“He’s an idiot for letting you get away,” He mumbled in your hair.

“No,” you pulled back slightly, “I’m the idiot who thought someone like him actually loved me.” You wiped a stray tear, Reggie then grabbing each of your hands in his own.

“Don’t you ever think like that, he was rude, careless and just plain stupid for not seeing what he had right in front of him.”

You look up at the boy in front of you.

“(Y/n), you are the most beautiful girl I know, inside and out. Your thoughtfulness for everyone around you is absolutely amazing, you care for so many people, you do so much, and don’t ask for anything in return. You are a whole package, and anyone who doesn’t see that is blind.” Reggie finished and wiped the tears that fell while he was talking.

You leaned back into his chest and wrapped your arms around his torso, feeling grounded, safe, in a way you never did with Dylan.

“Thank you,” you muttered, leaning back and feeling butterflies in your stomach, “Um, Reggie, I don’t want to start anything right now, I need some time to figure me out-” you started, but were interrupted by Reggie shushing you.

“Hey, don't stress about this, you take all the time you need, I promise you I’m not going anywhere.” He smiles down at you, you return it tenfold.

“Hey! (Y/n)! What would you think about a feature on our next song?” Luke comes running up beside you and Reggie, ending the moment that was occurring.

“Um, i’ll have to think about that a bit,” You smirked, Reggie grabbing your bag and placing it on his shoulders, wrapping an arm around you as the group walked out of the school.

“By the way,” Reggie whispers in your ear, “I’m loving the way my flannel looks on you.”

#reggie julie and the phantoms #reggie #reggie jatp #reggie jatp x reader #reggie x reader #reader x reggie jatp #reader x jatp reggie #jatp reggie x reader #reggie jatp imagine #reggie jatp oneshot #reggie jatp fanfic #jatp #jatp imagine

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440mxs-wife · 3 years

Text

The Hunter’s Princess Chapter 1: Another Dimension

Pairing: Dean x OFC Kira (eventual), Prince!Dean x OFC Lady Kira. Other Characters: Sam Winchester, Prince!Sam Winchester, Castiel, Rowena, Gabriel, King!John, Queen!Mary, Lucifer and assorted minor characters.

Chapter 1 Word Count: 3800

Warnings: Mention of parents’ death, a little angst, mostly fluff. Each chapter will have individual warnings as needed.

A/N: This is from some material that’s been rattling around in my head from another project that changed direction. Couldn’t let all this content go to waste, though, so here it is. It’s a work-in-progress, and I will try and update as regularly as I can. If you want to be tagged in this series, send me a message!

Thank you and happy reading!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was a Wednesday afternoon, and Kira Thomas was bored.

There hadn't been a hunt in over a month and she was starting to get cabin fever. Dean was giving the Impala a tune-up, while Sam was catching up on his serial-killer documentaries. Rowena had stopped by to research something in the Book of the Damned for some crazy spell she was working on. Castiel was off who-knew-where, doing who-knew-what, and Kira didn't want to bother him just because she was bored.

Gonna have to find something to do, she thought to herself.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Kira Thomas had been in the hunting life with the Winchesters for as long as she could remember. Her parents, James and Ava, were among the top hunters for their generation, but semi-retired so that they could start a family.

Once Kira reached a certain age, her parents resumed their hunting career. That meant Kira was often left in the care of their friend, Bobby Singer, owner and operator of the local scrapyard. Bobby was a gruff old man and mumbled "idjits" a lot, but one look at Kira's sweet face and he melted.

Another hunter, John Winchester, also sometimes had to leave his sons, Sam and Dean, in Bobby's care. John was on the trail to hunt down the monster that killed his wife and the mother of his sons. This was how Dean met Kira.

At first, Dean didn't want to have anything to do with Kira. She was three years younger than he was, and only one year older than his brother, Sam. She followed Dean nearly everywhere, wanting to do whatever it was he was doing. If he was running errands for Bobby, Kira wanted to tag along.

When Dean started weapons training to prepare him for going on hunts, Kira was right there, training along with Dean. More than a few times, Bobby was able to give Dean a batch of grief because Kira had performed better than he did. Those were the days that Dean tended to give Kira the silent treatment. Until she figured out how to bake a pie, that is, then all was usually forgiven.

The day his dad took him and Sam out on the road with him, Dean was heartbroken. It meant that he wouldn't see Kira every day and didn't know when he would again. Kira didn't know it, but Dean's feelings for her had grown beyond that of her best friend. And Dean had no idea that Kira had begun to realize that her feelings for him had shifted to more-than-best-friend territory.

After Bobby died, Kira settled into her own room at the bunker, where she continued to hunt with Sam, Dean and now Castiel. There were so many times with Dean and Kira, the line between friendship and more was very nearly crossed. Drunken near-confessions of love, shameless but harmless flirting and lingering touches all had a way of building up. Everyone was telling the two of them to quit tiptoeing around each other and take the leap of faith, but neither of them could.

Until something happened to force the issue.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Kira wandered the halls of the bunker, and for some reason stopped in front of Room #17. It was the room occupied by boxes of her parents' possessions. Boxes that were full of the things left to her after their house was sold. She had never had the time or courage to go through the boxes, but for some reason, today seemed like the day to do it. Kira took a deep breath, turned the knob on Room #17 and flipped on the lights.

Dean had finished giving the Impala a tune-up and had returned to the inside of the bunker to get himself cleaned up. He noticed how quiet it was and thought it was odd that Kira didn't have any music playing. Dean decided to shower up then go looking for Kira to see if she would want to watch a movie together. Maybe then he'd have the courage to tell her how he felt about her.

When he was properly cleaned up, Dean went from room to room, trying to find Kira. He didn't find her in her bedroom, the kitchen or the firing range. As he walked back to his room, he heard soft laughter and occasional sniffles coming from Room #17. Dean poked his head in and a smile broke out across his face.

"Hiya, sweetheart," he said softly, not wanting to startle Kira.

Kira hastily wiped the tears from her face and took a deep breath before looking up. "Hey, Dean. Everything okay?" she asked.

"I was just about to ask you the same thing. Whatcha got going on here, darlin'?" he inquired.

"Well, seems like everyone had something to do today, except me. I started wandering the halls and ended up here. It occurred to me that I haven't gone through any of these boxes of my parents' stuff since they died. Figured it was about time I did," Kira finished.

"There's no reason to push yourself if you're not emotionally up for it. But, if you're set on doing this, I'm here for you," Dean remarked.

"If you're all done with what you had going on, then yeah, I'd love the company," Kira replied with a smile.

Dean and Kira each opened a box and started looking through them. Most of what they found was paperwork, like Kira's old school report cards, along with some photographs. A couple of the boxes had some old lore books. Dean placed those boxes by the door and made a mental note to take them out to the library later.

They were down to the last two boxes, which contained items found in Kira's parents' bedroom. The really personal stuff, like her dad's cologne and her mom's hairbrush. Towards the bottom, Kira found her mom's jewelry box. She knew her mom had some heirloom jewelry, passed down from each generation of mothers to daughters.

One piece in particular caught her eye, and that was her mother's locket. She carefully drew it out of the box and dangled it in front of her face, then fastened it around her neck.

"Whatcha got there, sweetheart?" Dean asked.

"It's my mom's locket," she whispered. Kira popped open the locket to reveal her tiny kindergarten photo kept within. "I never asked what she kept inside, and she never told me. Just that it would be passed down to me when it was time," Kira recalled. For some reason, the locket started to glow in her hand. "Dean...." she said as she held it up for him to see.

"What's--I think you'd better put that back in the box, honey, nice and slow," Dean remarked with more calm in his voice than he currently felt.

"Dean! I can't take it off," Kira exclaimed as she started to phase in and out of sight.

From the library, Rowena's head shot up and her eyes glowed purple, a sign that she was in the presence of a powerful magic. "KIRA!!" Rowena shouted as she ran down the hall to Room #17. She got to the doorway in time to chant something in Latin, then Kira completely disappeared.

"KIRA!! NOOOOO!!" Dean roared as Rowena slumped to the floor.

Sam came rushing around the corner. "What the hell just happened?!?" he thundered then looked around the room. "Where's Kira?" he asked.

"I don't know!" Dean growled. "One minute, we're going through these boxes of her parents' stuff, and she came across her mom's jewelry box. The next minute, her mom's locket is glowing around her neck and she disappeared! Oh, but not before Rowena here cast some spell that I have no idea what it does," Dean retorted.

Rowena slowly rose up from the floor. "It was a tracking spell. Your wee Kira is fine....for the moment. Her mother's locket is a powerful charmed object that's been passed down from one generation to the next. It allows the wearer to move between dimensions, which is what each mother is supposed to tell her daughter. Unfortunately, Kira's mother died before she could explain," she shook her head sadly.

"So this whole multiverse is an actual thing? She can travel to other places, other timelines?" Sam asks.

"Look, who cares, we need to get Kira back. Rowena, do whatever hoodoo voodoo you have to do to get her back," Dean ordered. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket to call Cas to see if he could somehow help. He had no idea what it was going to take to get Kira back....assuming they even could do so.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Kira tilted the mug as she held it under the tap and began to fill it with the frothy amber liquid. She looked around to see if she could figure out who the drink belonged to. Her eyes settled on the outstretched hand of a dark-haired man with squinty dark eyes. He paid for his beer, grumbled his thanks and returned to his table.

With no customers to serve for the moment, Kira reviewed her surroundings. It was a decent sized pub, with four taps for beer, a jug of wine for the more adventurous and a bottle of what looked like scotch. There were seven seats at the beautiful mahogany bar, with several tables on the main floor. Two men were occupied by a dart board in the corner, while four others were huddled around a billiards table.

A woman with curly strawberry blond hair came up to the bar carrying a tray with empty glasses. "Oy, Kira, those blokes in the corner were getting kind of fresh. One of them tried to back me into a corner and pinch me backside!" she exclaimed.

Kira looked at the two men playing darts. For some reason, one of them looked familiar, like she'd dealt with him before. "Don't worry, Ella, I'll take care of it," Kira promised, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Kira walked out from behind the bar and over to the men in the corner. Loudly clearing her throat, she demanded, "Excuse me, which one of you has been harassing Ella?"

The shorter of the two men sauntered over to me and stood so close that Kira could smell the number of drinks he'd had. "Why 'ello, there! Fancy a throw at the board, Love?" he held out the dart with one hand while he tried to pinch Kira's backside with the other.

Since he was so close, Kira grabbed his ear and pulled upward. "I believe I told you that if you misbehave again in my establishment, you would be kicked out. You tried to pinch Ella's and my backsides tonight. That counts as misbehaving, so you are leaving," Kira said as she dragged him towards the door. He tried to squirm out of her grasp, but she held tight and kept moving until she was able to throw him out of her pub.

His friend started to intervene, but Kira cut him off with a death look. "Unless you want a piece of this, I suggest you back off," she remarked ominously. He had the good sense to return his attention to the dart board. After throwing out the offending individual, Kira dusted off her hands on her apron and returned to her place behind the bar.

As the night wore on, Kira busied herself cleaning the glassware and wiping down the bar as customers started to filter out. Just before closing, the door burst open and a woman with long wavy red hair sauntered in. She was wearing a dark-colored cloak, a long pink dress and carried a large satchel. She eased up onto a barstool near where Kira was working and said, "Kira, dear, we need to talk."

"Rowena," Kira whispered.

"How in the name of holy water did you get here, Rowena?" she hissed.

"Just before you disappeared, I cast a tracking spell on you, dearie," she replied. "How much do you remember before you ended up here of all places?" she asked.

"Last thing I remember is Dean and I going through some boxes of my parents' stuff. I came across my mom's jewelry box and found this locket," Kira lifted it to show Rowena. "It started to glow, I called for Dean, then I ended up here," she finished.

"Well, let's start with the basics. What do we know about this place?" Rowena asked.

"From what I can tell, I'm the owner of this pub. I have three servers that work for me, Ella, Jolene and Miranda. Apparently I've kept my hunting skills, because I just threw out a drunk moron just by holding on to his ear. He was pinching backsides without permission," Kira remarked.

As Kira finished bringing Rowena up to date, two new customers walked in. One was taller than the other, with chestnut hair and hazel colored eyes. The other wasn't as tall, but not short by any means. He had dark blond-ish hair with bright green eyes.

"We're almost closed up, gentlemen, but you have time for one or two drinks before last call. What'll it be?" Kira asked.

"Well, what do you have for beer?" Mr. Green Eyes inquired.

"That depends. We have four of them on tap, and it depends on whether you like it light and crisp, or dark and chewy," Kira quipped.

"Hmm, interesting description, I like it," he continued. "Surprise me, as long as it's not the dark and chewy one," he grinned.

"Can do, and for you sir?" she asked Mr. Hazel Eyes.

"I'll go with scotch, neat," he replied.

"On the way, thank you sir," Kira acknowledged.

Kira pulled the tap to fill a mug of beer for Mr. Green Eyes, and when that was done, she poured the two fingers of scotch for Mr. Hazel Eyes. Kira placed the drinks in front of them, and they paid the tab for the drinks.

"Excuse me, Kira?" Kira looked and Rowena was trying to get her attention. "Might I have a word with you, dearie?" Rowena asked.

Kira walked down to where Rowena was sitting and asked her what she needed. "Those two men? They are not what they seem," she said mysteriously.

Kira looked at them and asked, "What are you talking about? Come on, Rowena, they're a couple of guys who stopped by for a drink late one night," she remarked.

"There's something familiar about them. Can't quite put my finger on it, but it's like they're men of great importance," Rowena insisted.

"Rowena, they look like two regular guys. A little family resemblance, brothers or cousins maybe, but normal, thirsty guys," Kira observed. Wait a minute....Nah, it couldn't be.

Kira was finishing up her chat with Rowena when she heard, "Oy, Lady Kira?" Jolene motioned with her eyes that Mr. Green Eyes needed a refill on his beer. Then she took the next round of drinks out to a table.

Out of the corner of her eye, Kira could see Mr. Green Eyes had nearly finished his beer. After he drained the last drop she took his mug, dropped it in the dishwater and picked up a fresh one. "Same selection?" Kira asked.

"Depends. Which one was that?" he asked with a grin.

"I started you off slow. That one was the light and crisp. I'll pour you the next one, and maybe I'll let you name it," she teased.

"You're on, Lady Kira," he smirked.

A sharp pain pierced Kira's head, momentarily clouding her vision. She grabbed the edge of the bar to keep her balance. Suddenly it dawned on her who these men were. It was Sam and Dean, but also....not them. Like Rowena said, something familiar about them, but they're more than just hunters in this dimension.

Kira poured his beer, but before handing it to him, she leaned in so her face was a few inches from his. "Listen. We keep the 'Lady' part of my name a secret. If everyone knew who I really was, I couldn't do half the things I do for these townfolk. I don't want recognition for any of what I do. I try to make their lives a little easier with some charity while letting them keep a bit of their pride," she finished. As Kira plunked the beer down on the bar, some of it sloshed over the edge, hopefully conveying her annoyance.

Rowena flagged Kira down again. "Now do you believe me, darlin'? I saw that look on your face. You know that's Sam and Dean, but they're different here than they are at home," she remarked.

"Yes, I'm with you now. They're still hunters, but that's not all they are. Like they have a more important 'day job'," Kira mused. "Although Dean in any dimension is still going to be a smart ass from time to time. Likewise, Sam is still the more cautious of the two," she replied with a soft laugh.

At that moment, the door opened and a man with dark hair and piercing blue eyes stepped in. "Sirs? I think it's time we set out for home," the man said.

"Just finishing up one for the road, Castiel," Dean replied. He drained the last of the beer from his mug and tapped on the glass to get Kira's attention. She looked up from the mug she was drying off and tilted her head. "Thank you for the hospitality this evening. Hope to see you again," he said as he winked at her.

"Safe travels, gentlemen. May your journey home be swift and free from incident," Kira remarked as they departed.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Kira looked around to see that the rest of her customers had also made their way home, or at least out of the pub. Jolene, Miranda and Ella picked up any remaining dishes and brought them up to the bar. While Kira washed the glassware, Miranda cleaned tables while Jolene swept the floor. Ella took care of the restocking duties, checking the taps and bringing up another bottle of scotch.

When all closing duties were done, everyone filed out the back door and went their separate ways, except Rowena stayed with Kira. They walked towards a large carriage house not far from the pub. Kira pushed open the heavy, decorative oak door and was immediately greeted by her house manager, Alfred. "Good evening, Lady Kira. I see you've brought a guest with you. Will she be staying long?" he asked.

"Good evening, Alfred. May I present Lady Rowena of the Scottish Highlands. She will be staying with us for an undetermined amount of time. Please see her to one of the open rooms upstairs, while I check in with the rest of the staff," Kira requested.

"Very well, Lady Kira," Alfred replied. To Rowena, he said, "Should you be in need of refreshment or anything else, please be sure to ring, madam."

"Thank you, dear. I am a wee bit tired, so if you could please show me to my room. Lady Kira, I shall see you in the morning," Rowena promised. Kira nodded in agreement then headed off towards the kitchen.

After a quick meeting with the staff, Kira learned that a morning supply run would be needed to replenish some of the items in the pantry. It was in need of coffee, flour, sugar, most of the basics, including fresh vegetables. Kira provided her head chef, Stefan, with the funds necessary to purchase what was needed at the town market in the morning.

The head housekeeper, Coraline, notified Kira that sheets had been freshly laundered. There also were plenty of clean towels in the wardrobe in each room. Once she got the full report, Kira trudged upstairs to her room. She didn't even bother to get dressed in her nightclothes. She pulled back the blankets and crawled beneath them. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she fell into a deep sleep.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

As the three men approached their destination, they were greeted by Collins, the head of the stables. He was a short, white-haired man who had worked for the family for many years. He remembered when the figures approaching on horseback had been mischievous young boys. He felt privileged to see them grow up into the fine young men they were today.

"You boys had better get on up to the main hall. Your parents have been looking for you, and they are not too pleased at how late you've been out," he gently chided.

The men dismounted from their horses, so that Collins and one of the other stablehands, George, could lead them to their stalls. As they walked from the stables to the main hall, they thought back to events of the past evening.

They were called in to take out a vampire nest in one of the eastern provinces. There were only supposed to be seven or eight vamps, which was certainly manageable for the three of them. Turns out there were more like twelve, which made things a little more difficult, but not impossible.

They approached the main hall where their parents were waiting. The green-eyed man walked up to his mother and knelt before her, touching the backs of her outstretched hands to his forehead. He repeated the same gesture with his father, as did the man with hazel eyes. The blue-eyed man knelt before them, but crossed his chest with his right arm, placing his right fist above his heart.

Their father looked sternly at his sons as he settled back in his seat. "Do you mind telling me what the crown princes of this land have been out doing at all hours of the night?" he asked. "Your mother was worried sick about you, pacing the floor until word arrived that you had come home!"

The hazel-eyed man spoke first. "Father, we received word of an attack in one of the eastern provinces. On our way back, we happened to stop by a pub owned by a woman named Kira. Had a couple of drinks, then Castiel told us it was time to go back, so we left," he explained.

"Is this true? Dean?" his father, King John asked.

"Yes, Father, Samuel is correct. The threat in the eastern province has been neutralized. For now, anyway. I had a couple of beers in the pub and was enjoying some nice conversation with the owner before Castiel pulled us away," he grumbled.

"If you had just told someone where you were going, I--we wouldn't have worried so much," explained his mother, Queen Mary. "Your father and I have a matter of great importance, which we would like to discuss with you. Castiel, would you please excuse us?" she asked.

Part 2 here!

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