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wickedsrest-rp · 10 months

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Gaslight, Gatekeep, Gooboss | Group Thread

TIMING: Current PARTIES: Ariadne (@ariadnewhitlock), Jade (@highoctanegem), Mack (@realmackross), and Oliver (@arustysnake) SUMMARY: Ariadne, Jade, Mack, and Oliver are at makeshift shelter volunteering and helping people displaced by the goo. The building rattles and the lights shut off as the goo they were trying to hide from starts to leak in. Despite Jade's earlier attempts to stir the pot, the four of them have to work together to get out and to make sure everyone else gets to safety with them. She finds the stairs to the roof and Ollie helps her shuffle everyone along. Ariadne reluctantly goes first (but not before accidentally mentioning that Mack is a little bit dead). Things look dire as the goo continues to rise. Mack isn't fast enough and gets engulfed by the goo. Luckily, the "screaming moose" came to the rescue and screamed everyone to safety, shattering the goo and freeing everyone stuck inside. CONTENT WARNINGS: None

The goo had taken over just about everything inland, but Mackeznie had been safe in her home near the sea at Harborside. No worries so far. However, that didn’t mean that things weren’t a struggle for most of the town, and she had never been one to shy away from helping when there had been a crisis. It’s why she was now standing in the middle of one of the makeshift shelters trying to organize mass chaos and help prepare meals for those who had lost so much to the goo already.

Luckily, she hadn’t been alone in her endeavors. Having Ariadne with her seemed to make things better. A familiar face was always nice. Of course, there had also been Jade - the food delivery driver who had oddly wanted a tour of her house, but that was in the past. Now, they were facing a situation that had become grave for so many, and that’s what had truly mattered.

“Hey, um…Oliver, right? Can you pass me that towel?” There had been another person assigned to their group though that Mackenzie didn’t recognize. He had seemed nice enough, but for some odd reason, she had gotten the feeling that he didn’t like her very much, and she didn’t know why. Mack had been used to people not liking her. She had gotten plenty of comments online from those who despised her work or thought she was spoiled. But her favorite had been the ones that claimed her to be an ugly, privileged bitch. It was definitely nothing new, and she had opted to just handle his distaste with a smile and kindness.

—

Ollie had tried to go home after the school kept-calm through that early dismissal; well, to go back to the house, anyway. To the cats, who were probably - they’d be fine! They would. Really! He was deciding to believe, just for the moment, that the O’Rourke place was every bit as blessed as his family had always said. So it would be there, as much in one piece as it’d ever been, safe and sound from the zinnias to the weathervane, when Wicked’s Rest… dealt with whatever this fresh heck was.

Like he was deciding to believe that no, the lady who’d just sent him startling out of the wash-rinse-repeat daze of dishwashing definitely, absolutely was not who he’d thought she was, at first, wide-eyed, dry-mouthed glance. Couldn’t be. She was too normal. Not at all like that glazed-over, greyish, hungry horror show that’d gnawed through the meat case and his shoulder. (Which was also fine. Or would be, when it stopped - it would be fine.) This was just some total stranger. Who couldn’t be what Inge had said she was.

What Inge had said the thing that tried to eat them was. Which was not this lady.

“Yes! Of course! No problem…” Ollie pulled the tea towel she’d asked for off his shoulder - that shoulder, the one she obviously hadn’t bitten - and handed it over. Might be the last clean one left; they were already running short on everything. “You’d think we’d - they’d have more of everything put aside, emergency-supplies-wise. Given all the, ah, emergencies, around here…” A nervous sort-of laugh skittered away from him as he dug back into the sink, looking over the shelterful of people this not-zombie wouldn’t rip apart the moment they ran out of sandwiches. Obviously.

She didn’t like the goo, even if she did still feel somewhat bad about disliking something that didn’t seem to have been caused maliciously. But then again, Ariadne didn’t know about most any of those things. (Other thought patterns were pushed out of the way in favor of focusing on the present moment. Well, that and the fact that she so desperately wanted to text Wynne and give away the small surprise she’d gotten them (it wasn’t much, but she’d found an old and used record player for them, and figured it would just be a bonus extra belated birthday present. She had a feeling they hadn’t gotten lots of gifts throughout their life).

Volunteering felt nice, though, something tangible and good that she could do to help people in the town. People none of whom, thankfully, she recognized from having given them nightmares.

Plus, Ollie was here, and that always made Ariadne feel better about most everything. Mack was here too, which she was also excited about, except for the fact that she didn’t know if Mack knew that she knew that Mack was also dead.

“You’d think that, but I dunno, I guess our stuff is normal, so maybe we don’t have it ‘cause of that?” Ariadne scrunched up her nose. “That made no sense, and I’m aware of that, sorry.” She pulled out a bag of Sour Patch Strawberries and put a few in her mouth, offering the bag to the woman near her, “do you want any?”

Full disclosure? Jade had no clue she’d stumbled into a shelter. Like, she saw a little crowd gathering around the building and her nosy senses kicked in. She thought there was a thrift shop type thingy going on at first. And then well, there was a pretty cute guy with incredible dimples volunteering and he was super friendly, so Jade figured she’d get his number by the end of the day. She stayed around. Helping was like, second nature to her anyway. The goo sure had fewer fangs than what she usually tackled in order to keep everyone safe, but helping humankind was helping humankind in any way that mattered.

Normally Jade would’ve tried to lighten the mood, throw a little joke here and there. Admittedly, it was slightly uncomfortable doing so when her skin thrummed with the alarm of undead in the vicinity. She couldn’t pick up on vampires particularly, but someone was out there, missing a heartbeat. When they ended up drifting into groups, Jade was able to find out exactly who was keeping her on edge. The first one, Mack. She knew about her, had like, a whole past together. The other was a blonde girl, unfairly tall for how young she looked. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen anyone so young in the undead team. Jade had to shake whatever stirred inside her at the image, cause it wasn’t like she could grab the knife she had concealed inside her jacket and just go on a stabbing spree. People were bummed out already, she could read the room. The third member of their group didn’t feel threatening, though he was a little grey-faced for whatever reason, so she was slightly sus of him.

“Look, this is literally the worst place I’ve ever lived in” Jade chimed in, when she heard the exchange between the man and the girl. “But like, to play devil’s advocate…who’d have a contingency plan for this?” And that was the nicest she’d ever be about this little town from hell. She glanced at the blonde girl, eyes dropping to the bag. She wasn’t sure about fraternizing with the undead. (Without ulterior motives, at least). “Um… I’m good babe, don’t worry about me. Maybe Mack wants some. Or, uh…Oliver was it?” That’s what she’d heard, at least. “I’m Jade by the way, don’t we make a kick ass team?” she faked a big smile. Just cause she knew about the undead vibes, didn’t mean she had to be like, rude or anything.

“Thanks.” Mackenzie reached out and took the towel, “I agree. It’s like this town is one big horror movie, and we’re just the unlucky ones stuck living in it.” Folding it over, she began drying off the counter she had just wiped with a wet, soapy cloth. With more sandwiches to make of a different variety, she wanted to make sure any residue of peanut butter and jelly had ceased to exist. But Mack couldn’t stop herself from noticing Oliver’s nervousness, “Hey, are you okay? I know this goo situation isn’t ideal, but I think we’re pretty safe inside.” Maybe it was the fact that the town was in a state of emergency and not so much that Mack was the culprit of his nervousness, but she just wasn’t entirely sure.

Finishing what she was doing, Mack sat the towel aside and returned the peanut butter and jelly jars to their rightful place, “Have you eaten anything? I can make you a sandwich.” In fact, she had wondered if Ariadne or Jade had even eaten. “Hey, Ariadne, Jade, do you guys want me to make a sandwich for you? I’ve got PB&J, Nora’s favorite…Ham and cheese, and turkey and cheese.” Knowing she was working on turkey, ham, and cheese next, she pulled out all of the ingredients from the industrial sized refrigerator and carried them over to the counter.

It made a Wicked’s Rest sort of sense. Ollie wanted to give Deeny a point for that; this was only slightly above the average level of freakish by the standards of this nightmarishly quaint corner of Americana they were both unfortunate enough to have sprang from, yes - but to actually say so seemed like inviting some new, horrible twist of bullshit. Better not.

He glanced between that unfamiliar face, Jade, to Mack; the first had a smile that might’ve unsettled him, somehow, if it weren’t for the maybe man-eating one right there, to compare. Ollie found a near-grin of his own, for Ariadne. “You keep ‘em, Deeny. More for you.” Like this was just another night of baby-sitting after a rough day at dance class, and loading up on sugar was the fastest way to fix it.

Jesus. Mack got an actual twitch out of him, just asking. “Oh, I’m -” Ollie let out a clearly very okay sort of scoff between dishes. “Fine!” Seeing as they were totally pretty safe. Inside. Right. “I mean, it’s only been a century and change since the last time something almost exactly like this went on, and that was, probably, the worst single thing that’s ever happened around here. Just, by sheer volume of…” death? property damage? goo? He shrugged right into a wince, not especially wanting to dwell on just how bad this newest mess might get. Before any zombies got involved. “Have you eaten anything, Mack?” The question snuck out quick, earnest. Ever so slightly strained. “You’ve been doing so much for everybody, you - you should eat, definitely.” Just in case.

“Could I just have jelly? Um, if you don’t mind!” Ariadne chirped over to Mackenzie. “But I’m actually kind of all good, so you don’t have to.” The last thing she wanted, in the middle of what could clearly only be described as a total disaster, was to be a burden, and especially since she didn’t technically have to eat, and did always carry candy around to help satisfy the whole sweets craving thing, she wasn’t about to put anybody out.

“Oh – yeah, I can have them, if nobody else does.” She looked down at the floor for a moment, briefly dejected, though she figured only Oliver would be able to spot that, because she’d only known Mackenzie for a few months, and this Jade lady was totally new. Absolutely super movie-star pretty, but totally new. Ariadne nodded, looking over to Jade again, “have you lived in a lot of places? I’ve – well, I was born here.” And died here. “So I’ve only ever lived here for my whole life, but it’s always amazing to hear about people living elsewhere. I think Mackenzie did, too, um, right?”

“I’m all good” Jade reiterated, on the prospect of having a sandwich. (And like, who was Nora, by the way?). She figured it was better just to leave the food for the people in the shelter anyway. She’d get one of the volunteers to buy her dinner after. The sour patch kid (Ariadne, apparently) addressed her again, and Jade shook her head. “I lived in California for most of my life, actually. But then, I went on a little road trip around the country,” chasing an elder vampire and its progeny but, details. She still ended up in all different places. None like Wicked’s Rest, that’s for sure.

Listening to the rest of the team chat, Jade lined up more slices of bread on the tray, with a degree of perfection that shouldn’t matter when they were about to be filled seconds later. (But whatever, she liked things neat, alright?) It was kind of a bummer that everyone already knew each other, while she was the outlier. (Story of her life). But that meant, she could bring the element of surprise. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, knowing what she had to do. “So…I’m sensing some tension here” she looked up, wiggling her eyebrows. Truth was, she wasn’t sensing much tension other than her own, but it would be fun to see what came out of her vague statement. Maybe it would distract her from her own feelings. The man, Oliver, was acting all kinds of sus, anyway. Like he was the slayer getting all the uncomfortable undead tingles right now. Her gaze danced between Mack and Oliver. “Did you guys bang? Is that what this…” she gestured between them, “is? I’m sure we can all put that aside to help here, can’t we?” Her eyes wrinkled in amusement, glancing at Ariadne with a conspiratory grin. She hoped she would enjoy this just as much as Jade did. Kids loved tea, right? “Just like I totally forgave Mack for stealing my boyfriend when I was 22!”

She truly was over it, really. And if it helped fix whatever was going on between those two, then Jade was doing them a service by sharing her story. What was she, if not in service of humanity? The cocky grin spreading across her face faltered when something eerily like underground vibrations reached her ears. Her hands held the tray in front of her in place, though nothing shook. “Huh, did anyone hear that?”

“Jelly it is!” Sliding two pieces of bread over from where Jade had neatly lined them up, Mackenzie began spreading on the sweet gelled consistency all over the bread while she listened to everyone talk, “And yeah, I’m good. I ate before I came over here, but thanks for asking.” She looked at Oliver with a smile not really picking up what he was putting down aside from more awkwardness. What’s with this guy? “I’ve lived in California most of my life, but I did move around quite a bit for work.” She looked back towards Ariadne and continued to listen while she made good use of her time, until she heard Jade ask if she had banged Oliver.

Putting the knife down she was holding, Mackenzie narrowed her eyes at Jade, before looking back at the man standing next to her, “Uh, no. We haven’t banged…Kind of a personal question, don’t you think?” She looked back over at the woman that she had only known from getting food delivered to her house. That was highly inappropriate and weird. Mack was used to rumors spreading around about her in the tabloids. She had been watching a shitshow of how the media ran wild with theories of her and Brody for months now. But the words out of Jade’s mouth had smacked her upside the head like a ton of bricks, “What did you just say?”

Grabbing the other piece of bread, she slapped it down on the sandwich frustration clearly starting to come through, “I didn’t steal anybody. Brody mentioned having a girlfriend previously, but thought it was best to end things.” It was taking a lot for Mackenzie to hold back the anger that was starting to boil inside of her, especially the undead side of things. But remembering there were other people in the room, she grabbed the jelly sandwich and put it on a plate passing it over to Ariadne, before she felt the same shift that Jade was talking about.

“Great,” Ollie half-hummed, wishing he believed Mack as much as he’d really, really like to. Logically, though - if believing in zombies set your bar for logic, which, apparently, his should - if you could avoid being a ravening, hangry monster by snacking on whatever her equivalent of a Snickers might be, you would. And that was, oh, God, absolutely all the thinking he wanted to do about that. He’d have happily sunk back into the calming(ish) routine of clearing the dishpit. Too bad Jade got curious, for some reason. Nothing better to do, he might’ve thought. If they did not, in fact, have so many better things to do. Loads! Shitloads, even.

Mack spared him wracking his wrung-out brain for a passably clever comeback to that, at least. (He’d have thanked her, really, if not for - well, she’d got her quarter pound of flesh, already.) So Ollie left his answer at the gayest stare he could drum up after a long, long… half-year, and went back to scrubbing cutting boards. Listening along, obviously, as Mack bit down - aha - on that second scrap of bait Jade had thrown out. So they knew each other. Over very different stories about a boyfriend. Or from the boyfriend? He could’ve chimed in, having also definitely never stolen a boyfriend, but. Nah. Seemed like they had some stuff to work out. It’d be more fun to watch. So long as Mack didn’t literally rip Jade’s head off, anyway.

(Super funny. Christ. He had to get out of this whole place.)

He’d just done his best to sneak a tired, totally not frantic smile Deeny’s way when something like a… bassline, real low, deep, rumbled right up his spine. Ollie blinked, unclenching his jaw with a grimace as the - sound? faded. Shaking that off, he frowned down at the cheap rec center tiles as Jade wondered the same thing he was. How wouldn’t somebody feel that? “Yeah…” The sinkwater rippled as another rumble, almost a groan, shuddered through the place. Enough for everyone to startle, out at the tables. Not just them! Confirmed. So nice to know.

She offered the woman – Jade – an awkward grin, because any weird talk about Ollie felt bad, but Jade also seemed cooler than cool, and Ariadne didn’t want to disappoint her, either. Which was a fair bit of a conundrum, but nothing she couldn’t handle (or so she told herself) (and, after all, in the past year she’d gotten exceptionally excellent at lying to herself). She knew Mack, and knew Mack was more like her than not, but that also didn’t seem good to tell the other people, because it was a private matter, and she didn’t know if Mack liked it, like Inge seemed to, or if she didn’t, like Ariadne still felt, even if she was trying to come to terms with it.

Taking the sandwich, Ariadne didn’t even have time to bite it before the building shifted (or something), and she dropped the plate, wincing as it clattered, tensing up again at the shift. “Something’s happening, yeah.” Genius deduction skills on her part, surely. Brilliant. It wasn’t like everyone else had already pointed that out.

“I – I don’t think we were due for an earthquake…” her voice trailed off.

Jade smiled, which felt all kinds of villainous really, but it was a genuine, delighted smile. The first one since she got here, actually. Sure, she was making everything messier by bringing up old, forgotten tea, but at least they were having fun now, right? Well, she was. Mack on the other hand, didn’t look too pleased. She waved her hand, her posture relaxed. “It’s all in the past babe, I’m just trying to get you two to put whatever you got going on behind. We’re really knuckle deep if I have to go all…voice of the reason”. Wasn’t that weird? For someone who claimed to have no fault in the whole boyfriend stealing debacle to get all defensive? Jade sure thought so, but also knew not to provoke further. It was about being the right amount of menace to shake things up.

Speaking of…

Jade had experienced more than a few earthquakes in her lifetime. All things considered, when they weren’t like… absurdly destructive they were fine. A little fun, even! The underground rumbling beneath them sorta felt like one, but like… the movement wasn’t there. Seriously, she’d been in beds with frames that shook harder than it just had. So, yup… fully in agreement with the Sour Patch kid, it was very unlikely to be an earthquake. (Anything could make those noises, basically). She released her grip on the tray, deciding to go about her business, lining up more bread slices. “I’m not like, a science person… but I bet we have like… underground gas from the mines” she nodded, pursing her lips like she had said the most brilliant thing ever spoken. She slid the tray to the girls, but before she could stir the conversation towards conspiracy theories, the lights went out. Nope, they like… fully exploded above them. At the same time the ground shook, for real this time, the building trembled along with it.

And then, it was like something hooked her stomach and they were sinking, plummeting as the force sent them all to the floor.

It was like The Tower of Terror, in a lot of ways. But better. (The one from Disneyland by the way, not Disneyworld) (She’d never been to Florida). The adrenaline rush gave Jade two seconds of absolute bliss before she understood the severity of the situation. (They fell… into a hole?) (How were they still alive, actually?) It wasn’t over. And it wasn’t safe. It felt like the building was readying for another drop, as it slowly slinked into sludge. Or maybe, actually, it was going to fully collapse. “Sh—oot” she blinked, her vision adjusting to the complete darkness. Enough to spot the food they had been working on spilled everywhere, and, at the distance, black goo dripping from the shattered windows. (Ooooh). “Y’all okay?” Before she could hear much of anything, chaotic screaming broke out at the table.

Mackenzie so greatly wanted to strangle Jade at that moment. No. Better yet. She wanted to let the monster inside of her take over and make Jade her own personal meal. The brains of the woman who finally proved the zombie’s gut feeling right. She had known since the day Jade had stepped foot in Mack’s house to deliver food and wanted to take some random tour, that there was something off. And now she had gotten her answer.

Oliver seemed even more embarrassed, and she didn’t know what was going through Ariadne’s mind. All she wanted to do was take this outside and finish their little discussion in private, but before she could, Mack felt the floor shift. And then watched as the lights exploded above them. Great. That was the last thing she had needed, since her eyesight was crap in the first place.

It was the great plunge that happened that caused Mackenzie to drop what she was doing and grip the countertop as tight as she possibly could though. All anger had left her body in that instance and her concern had fallen on her teammates (including Jade) and the…now screaming people in the other room. Unfortunately for her, being in the dark with her fading senses didn’t help, except the smell, she knew that smell and the sound of busted pipes that weren't actually busted pipes…the goo. The thing they were supposed to be safe from and it was starting to leak inside, “Fuck.” She glanced between Jade, Ariadne, and Oliver, before looking back to the panic stricken room full of people, “Anybody got any ideas on how we can get out of this mess?” She figured they didn’t, but it would at least give her some time to think of something, hopefully…

Deeny had that right; Maine got more earthquake drills than earthquakes. Still, Ollie found himself leaning into the counter, weirdly off-balance, just off - vibrating with something other than nerves, now, enough that the clatter of Ariadne’s plate had barely registered. Like whatever they had going on? Is that what she’d said? Seemed like he was the only one who knew. Mack would have to be a hell of an actress to play this cool about a whole attempted (cannibalistic) murder. But - it was her, wasn’t it? Sans the dead-doe glazed-over eyes, those gory, gaping teeth…

Christ. How crazy was he?

Shaking it off, or trying to, anyway, Ollie bent to clean up the floor sandwich, the plate. Only to drop both all over again as everything hellevatored down. Hard.

The landing was… unsettlingly sludgy. He opened his eyes on near-total darkness. Too many somebodies were screaming, crunching wildly through what sounded like an awful amount of broken glass. A couple frantic phone flashlights swung through the gloom. With a hiss, Ollie peeled away from the cupboard he’d braced against - bad shoulder first. That hungry-mouthful of arm throbbed, furiously; he snuck a few fingers under his collar to check the dressing as he stood, slow, finding his footing on tilted tiles. That were tilting a little more by the moment, more like a loosely moored wharf than a building with what should be a solid, steady foundation. Amazing. Fantastic! Wicked.

And now what? Ideas. “Roof access?” He winced, gripping down on that chewed up shoulder as one of those creeping, crawling shivers ran through it, cold and itchy. “There should be -” Ollie turned, took a quick breath, and projected over the panic like they were all in goddamn gym class. “HEY!” Well, that - that’d worked better than he’d expected, actually. “Thank you,” he seized the lull, then chunked the instructions, quick, clear. Just another (not) drill. Totally. “We need. To get. To the roof. Does anybody know the easiest way to do that?” It was a community hall they’d wound up in; not a place he was familiar with, but there had to be someone in here who was from the neighborhood. Probably? Hopefully…

She yelped when the lights exploded, and in turn again when they fell, and Ariadne knew this wasn’t the time for her to feel all sorry for herself or anything like that, but she couldn’t help but feel at least a bit ashamed given… all of this. Given how she should’ve been able to hold it together and be braver, rather than a disaster.

Ariadne could hear people screaming and she wanted to cry for them, because they had to be good, and they didn’t deserve this, and Mack was asking about how they could get out of the mess and all Ariadne could focus on, for a moment, was how Mack was dead just like her, except not just like her, but that was semantics and really wasn’t what she should’ve been focusing on at the moment.

Thankfully, Ollie seemed to have a decent handle on things, and between him and Jade (and Mack, too, Ariadne had to admit), they had responsible adults here who actually knew what they were doing, and what a relief that was. What was less of a relief, though, was that there were a lot of murmurs of ‘I don’t know’ after Ollie asked his question. “Um, we – maybe if we stack some stuff on top of each other?...” She looked around at her companions, realizing that now, in the dark, her eyes had to be taking on something of a crimson glow. Well that was fun.

“Let’s save that idea for when we have no other option” Jade replied to the blondie. (The younger one) (Sour patch kid was getting a little repetitive). Hopefully it wouldn’t come to them playing jenga with the kitchen objects while trying to reach the ceiling. Or an even worse alternative: Stacking themselves on top of eachother like some sorta human pyramid. Her cheerleading days were long gone, she didn’t have it in her. She looked around, just like the rest of the people in the room, searching for options. The windows wouldn’t work, obviously. Not only were they busted, but currently the main source of goo leaking into the building. The fire escape was probably ruined too, so that didn’t leave a ton of options.

A booming voice managed to quiet all the panicky murmurs in the hall, and Jade raised her eyebrows at Oliver. “That was so hot of you, babe,” she winked at him even though the darkness didn’t allow visibility. For him. She could see pretty freaking well right now. And not only did he manage to get everybody to shut up, his idea was even better. “To the roof, yup. Listen to the guy”. Considering they were like, sinking into the sludge, that had to be a goo free zone, no? She wanted to imagine that at least. With impeccable timing, the building slid again, rumbling underneath them. Ugh. “Stairs,” she mumbled, mostly to herself while Oliver and everybody else on the other side tried to communicate.

Jade had been told before she wasn't a particularly great leader (lies). Apparently? Cause she always wanted things done her way, or whatever. (True)(And the correct way, mind you). So she wanted no part in sorting out the mess of discussions between volunteers and those displaced by the goo. Her three teammates were being rockstars about it. She figured what they needed now more than anything, was someone nosy enough to go looking. So that was exactly what she did. She sauntered by the storage room toward the corridor. Some of the emergency exits were still illuminated. Right. Follow the little colored arrows, how hard could it be? They should go through the one door with “roof access” written on it, but that was like, totally a hunch. She spun around, strolling back to the kitchen to share her findings.

Meanwhile, the volunteers in the sheltering area were doing the job of keeping everyone as calm as possible post slump. And honestly? They were flopping a little. A few of them succumbed to the panic too. Jade stood between Mack and Oliver, in case their sexual tension was ready to explode. “There’s a neat door in the corridor that we should open. My guess? Stairs to the roof” she nodded, lips pressed into a smug smile. “Even if that’s like a total bust, we should start moving these people. They’re gonna keep freaking out if they think we’re in the latest Final Destination” she clasped her hands together, as if this was some sort of school excursion. “SO! Up the stairs we go? Yay!” She was the first out of the kitchen cause like, if this were the Titanic, she should’ve definitely had the front seat. But something bigger than her froze her after she walked through the frame. She watched as people came over from the shelter side. (Ugh) She was like, a volunteer or something… so she had some responsibility or whatever. It wasn’t her brand of protecting people, but it counted too. It did. She knew this.

“Roof access. That’s good. Good call.” Mackenzie looked between her partners and out into the sea of people in the other much larger room. How had all of this fallen on their shoulders? Ariadne was just a kid. Oliver looked like someone who had lost their favorite toy AND stepped on a lego multiple times. And Jade…well Jade was just Jade. But the one thing she had going for her was that she did take initiative, so Mackenzie did appreciate that. And what was even more of a win? When the food delivery girl returned with a solution. But Mackenzie still wanted to have a few words when this was all said and done, because she was not a boyfriend stealer.

Seeing Jade freeze when the crowd of people started to make their way towards the kitchen, Mackenzie stepped in. She had dealt with massive amounts of people before. Mostly with security around, but this was a literal matter of life and death. And to make herself more noticeable, she climbed onto the counter and stood up, so they could all see her through the large open window area of the kitchen, “HEY! If we all want to make it out of here, we’re gonna have to single file it up the stairs. And NO pushing! We want to make it out alive and safe right? And we want our fellow neighbors to do so as well!” She motioned towards the door leading to safety, “Go through that doorway over there as quickly and safely as possible, and again, no pushing! We don’t want a back up on the 405!” You could take the girl out of California, but you couldn’t take California out of the girl.

Hopping off the counter, she had hoped they would listen and not push and shove, and as the last of them followed through the doorway, she turned to her fellow volunteers, “Ariadne, you go first, since you’re the youngest.” She wasn’t going to watch her friend succumb to a gooey death. She refused, and honestly, if Oliver and Jade had wanted to go before Mackenzie as well, she had no qualms. Mack was already dead after all.

Jade was saying something; what, Ollie couldn’t sort out. Not with his head rattling this hard. (Vertigo? He’d never had vertigo. Panic attack? He wasn’t panicking.) She was probably just making it weirder. Had a real gift for that. The power had really gone out, out; gone, leaving just the bluish haze of those phones, the low, red glow of a couple signs, and… he stopped, staring into the blackness at the red glow of something else, something horribly like -

His eyes unfocused, that red scattering as he swayed through another rumble that juddered right from the soles of his feet to the back of his skull. The floor took another tilt, settling lower. Deeper, more accurately. Deeper in that crap that was gurgling in.

Thankfully, Jade also had a gift for finding actual exits. So they didn’t die a couple of truly Wicked’s Rest-grade deaths. And Mack had the crowd control thing down, which shouldn’t have been so surprising, seeing as she wasn’t a deranged cannibal. Wise, throwing in the no pushing; the startled watch-outs and heys that followed the pile-up as they singleish-filed their way upstairs had made it pretty damn clear they’d needed the reminder. Just like tenth graders on a field trip. Totally just like that.

Still unsteady, Ollie followed the counter - that hand he’d checked his shoulder with were tacky against the formica. Blood? Something worse? Nothing good. But fine! It’d all be fine. “Yeah, Deeny - go on,” he agreed, easily, head spinning. Not just because he was trying to keep an eye on whatever the hell he… maybe saw, glaring out of the dark. Jesus. Like they didn’t have enough problems; now he was “seeing” new ones. Ollie shook it off as a loud shove-creak echoed down that packed stairway, followed by sighs and cries that slid between relieved and urgent. All those footfalls scrambled harder, higher. “Sure sounds like a way out, hey?” He tried to squint back at those broken windows and the sunk-low corner where the goo must’ve started to pool. And where it had to be flowing from, as the building pitched again, violently enough to send tables dragging across the floor and chairs crashing. “Up -” Ollie started, following his own frantic directions onto the kitchen island. “Up, everybody up!”

Roof access made sense. It made sense in very much the same way that reminded Ariadne just how glad she was that she wasn’t the only person in charge of solving this problem. Or really, the person in charge at all. Because she’d help, certainly and without question, but being in charge wasn’t something she was even remotely comfortable with. Having to choreograph something gave her enough anxiety as it was, and she wasn’t even in charge of life or death at that point. “Right, yes, of course,” she nodded at Jade, before turning towards Ollie and Mackenzie.

“I – why – I don’t need to –” she felt her stomach turn in a sense of guilt. “Just because I’m youngest doesn’t mean I need to go first, that’s – I can move quickly, and I don’t want Mack to die, like, again or stuff?” Ariadne pressed her hand quickly against her mouth, unable to believe that she’d just said what she’d said. “I mean, like, ‘cause she’s died in movies she’s been in, right? And we don’t want – that would be very bad if it happened in real life.” She wanted to sink into herself, hoping maybe nobody else noticed. Because she wasn’t supposed to say stuff like that, and she felt sick to her stomach. “I can – whoever wants to, can go,” she tugged at her bracelet.

Jade got to do one of the things she loved most: Bossing people around. It was super fun to tell everybody not to shove each other and be patient while going up the stairs. Two things she would’ve totally failed at, had she been on the other side. But she wasn’t so, she got to live her dreams and keep people safe in the process. She tapped her boot, watching the line get shorter, wishing she was already at the top of the stairs (closer to reaching the exit), than at the bottom, with her whimsical team of volunteers in a building that kept tilting every second. But again, this fell under the ‘protecting people’ umbrella, so her conscience was clean. Confused by the sound of her boot no longer echoing against the tiles, she glanced down. Sludge splashed beneath her, and a thin layer of goo (at least for now) began spreading to the corridor too. Well, crap.

She whipped her head toward the kitchen, looking for the rest of her crew. She noticed the crimson glow in the younger girl’s eyes. Uh. Jade couldn’t ignore the thrumming underneath her skin anymore. It continued to indicate she wasn’t in front of a vampire. But… what if her spidey sense didn’t get reception down here, or the goo was intercepting it? She became increasingly aware of the knife inside her jacket. Just in case. If it came down to it, she’d have to make sure this girl didn’t hurt anyone. Her innocent act wasn’t fooling her. And actually, it was making a lot of sense how she kept insisting on staying with them. Planning to kill them, maybe? (Who said she wasn’t like every slayer?) (Emilio would be so freaking proud of her paranoia). She looked at Mack, curious of her reaction as blondie revealed what Jade already knew. She was also dead. Wait. Shoot. As fun as the tea was, they were sorta in the middle of a thing. “Um. Okay? We don’t have time to debate who goes or doesn’t go first. We’ll all end up getting there eventually, anyway”. And if the kid didn’t want to go up the stairs then, whatever. She was already dead. It sorta made the job quicker for her if she preferred getting encased by the Wish version of the Kid’s Choice Awards slime.

The building sank again, the hardest since the initial slump. The Powers That Be likely pissed about all this chit-chat. The room turned, chairs and tables dragged, screeching against the floor. Goo pooled under their feet, coming with more violence out of every broken window. Oliver commanded them to get on the island, but Jade knew that was like, smart only for so long. It could lead to them getting flooded by the sludge. “Unless we can surf on the island all the way to the roof, which… fun, I’ve been meaning to try that. Maybe we should like, skedaddle… actually” She gestured to the corridor and spoke specifically to Oliver, on account of… being the only other person alive in the room. If Mack and Ariadne wanted to follow, well… Jade didn’t plan on stopping them. For now. “But you know… feel free to... Yup”. Having evacuated most of the people in the shelter her only concern now was her own survival. She trailed up behind the last person on the single line (she was still serious about her duty), slowly walking up the stairs. She could hear people cheering at the top, so she figured… that meant they must’ve found the exit door, right? Great! Perfect. This would count as her biggest W. Who was a girl failure? Not her!

Something roared furiously beneath them, material crumbling as the building took another, almost final dive. Jade and the rest of the people still at the stairs, tumbled to the side, leaving them to climb up the rest of the way at an awkward angle. Desperate shrieks echoed from the top, and everyone seemed to give up any effort to stay calm. It had become a race to get out.

Mackenzie had been insistent that Ariadne make her way up first, but when the building started to shift again and Goo Girl in Real Life started to become a thing, she gave up on the effort. Well and because, “What…What did you just say?” A shiver shot down her spine. Not because of the imminent danger they were in, but because Ariadne had just, out loud, mentioned that Mack was dead. And the attempted coverup was only making it worse. Hopefully Jade, who was already causing enough problems, and Oliver, who had been skittish this entire time, hadn’t noticed. Never had she hoped and prayed that such chaos would cover up the truth about who she really was, but if they made it out alive, she was going to have a little conversation with Ariadne, because despite her being at the sleepover that night, word on the street was that she had been holed up in a room with Wynne the entire time making out. So someone had to have spilled the dead beans, and the young zombie wanted to know who.

While chaos continued on around them, Mack had started to spiral. Jade was already suspicious of her and Brody, and this might have just sealed the deal on that, but when she felt a stronger shift in the building, which sent her sliding into the side of the counter she had previously been standing on, with a thud, the twenty-five year old finally came back to her senses and the situation they were in. Shit, that hurt…

Pushing herself off the counter with a groan, she noticed the sludge forming under her feet. This was bad. Really fucking bad. And as Mackenzie looked up, she saw that Jade had started making her way up the stairs first. Of course she did. “Okay, a little tough love here, but Ariadne, Ollie…you both need to move your asses now, or spend the rest of your days encased in this crap!” She knew in good conscience that if she left them there alone and something happened, she wouldn’t be able to live with herself. She was already struggling with that anyways, after all the death and destruction she had previously caused unknowingly. And while she wouldn’t openly admit it to herself (like she even had time to with the situation they were currently in), there was a part of her hoping that the goo would finally just take her to atone for all the harm she had already put out into the world.

Dodging dark sludge in a dark room would’ve been hard enough if Ollie’s world wasn’t lurching about as wildly as the whole damn building. As it was? He was just trying his best to keep down… whatever he’d eaten last. Something. At school. Hours ago. Before drowning in Wicked’s Rest had seemed so literally likely to be the death of him. God. Seriously?

Seriously? “Tough love? Are you - Deeny,” he refocused, back to… to where Ariadne seemed to be, which was where that freaky trick of the not-light was, kaleidoscoping the blackness with red. It was nothing. Nothing like how Mack had died in the movies, whatever that meant, whatever Ariadne already knew? (What?) Nothing he was going to be fucking paralyzed by, right now. (Except for how he couldn’t feel his legs, actually. Fuck. Maybe this was a panic attack, just a different kind, crawling through his nerves like that fucking ooze was sliming its way across the tiles.) “Ariadne,” Ollie insisted, gently, but insisting all the same. “You need to go. Your parents are out there. Wynne’s out there. Okay? So, you get up those stairs, and you go home, to them. Now, like the lady said. Go go go,” he tacked on, quick. Still not-tough. Old-babysitter-solid, that’s what he was aiming for. Hopefully, by the power of their assorted bullshit combined, Mack and him would get Deeny started - and Jade, if she wasn’t totally gone already, could keep her going, all the way away.

“I – nothing.” She wanted to sink into herself, because apparently Mackenzie hadn’t misheard her or just not heard her, and Ariadne hated herself for that. In a brief, fleeting moment of amusement, she found herself thinking that at least this was something new to hate herself for.

And now Ollie was full-naming her and she didn’t take it to mean anything like he was mad or stuff like that, but it did mean something was at least somewhat (really) serious and he was making good points about her parents and Wynne, and she really didn’t want to freak her parents out by dying for a second time. “I – fine, okay. I – I will, but only if all of you promise you’ll all make it out, and – I’m letting her go first,” Ariadne gestured to a woman who had to be around seventy.

The woman made her way up, and Ariadne turned around to the others. “Will at least one of you come on up with me?”

The concern and care that Oliver showed for Ariadne was something Mackenzie respected. Just like the zombie, he wanted her safe. Yes, she might have just outed Mack’s secret in front of two other people, but right now it was life and death for all involved, whether or not you were actually something other than human. Most everyone had left except for her, Ariadne, Oliver, and a little old lady who seemed to be trailing behind.

“I’m gonna go check and make sure there’s no one left. I’ll be right back.” Fighting her way towards the doorway leading out to where the cots were, Mackenzie noticed that with the shift, everything had moved and the floor was almost completely covered with the goo slowly inching its way closer to the kitchen area. Quickly turning back around, Mackenzie was just about to move towards the three remaining people and usher them forward, but before she could, she felt something stop her in her tracks; a resistance, before she felt it on top of her feet slowly starting to make its way up to her ankles – the goo.

“Ariadne, Oliver…listen to me right now. You grab that woman and go. NOW.” Mackenzie’s voice held a bit more panic, but she didn’t want to let the others know she was in trouble. However, the more she fought to move, the more it started to hurt and the quicker it crept up her legs.

Wasn’t that an Ariadne-brand promise to ask for. “Absolutely. Right - right behind you.” Ollie lied, like a liar, which he… had been being, a lot, lately. Practice! He bit down and took an unsteady lean out, off the far-from-level kitchen island, to try and tell the swirling blackness of all that ooze from the also-swirling blackness of everything else.

… and leaned right back, shuddering with the whole foundation, floor to ceiling. (Tailbone to the tip of his tongue, where he could just about taste the blood seeping through his shirt. Only, that was impossible.) His breath rattled out, fast, then rushed in, shallow. Ollie was working on the next one when Mack reappeared, a silhouette barely back-lit in exit-sign red. Like - like the horror show something-or-other she was. Shit. Did Ariadne know? (Insane. How would Deeny know about actual, real dead things that didn’t stay dead?) If she did, how was she so - okay? What the hell was wrong with him? She was going to be up there, with all those people, those edible people, and a zombie. And what could he do about that? Drag himself through the deadly sludge and hope Mack would come back for seconds instead of taking a piece out of somebody else?

Well, better than nothing. Deeny’s parents would still kill him if she got eaten.

“Working on it.” Fighting his sweater off over that burning, bloody shoulder, Ollie loosened the laces on his shoes and pawed around the counter for - there. Some cutlery; that’d do. Time to find some ooze. He slipped into the lee of the island and nearly hit the deck, his numbish legs half-caving under him. Only half! Deep breath. Dizzily, he lobbed a spoon just ahead, into the dark; a clank. Tiles. He followed it, unsteady, focused, doing his best not to throw up his far-off lunch or his hammering heart. A fork landed with a murky splat. A couple feet to the right, a knife clanged. Progress. Everybody was headed up, and out, and yes he was going to run out of spoons to drop but he lurched out of his half-tied sneakers as they stuck and threw down that sweater to stumble the last, sludgy steps to the stairs. And if he fell up the first few, palms and shins stinging, so what. Made it. Only to stagger wildly as they all kept sinking…

She didn’t know why she wanted to push back as much as she did, but Ariadne felt like maybe she still wasn’t supposed to be the one who got out when other people risked their lives. Except that especially with Ollie around, she wasn’t going to get around and off so easily. He listened to her though, which was more than she could’ve asked for or hoped for.

Not that him listening was unexpected (because he always listened, no matter what, always), but there was just a lot going on that made it hard for her to concentrate too much on any one thing. Even as the building shook, and as Mackenzie insisted on going back to check, and Ariadne wanted to go and help too, but she figured that if she tried to insist on that, she’d just up and get a heck of a lot more pushback than she was up for hearing.

Besides, her parents would want her to come out of this, and so would Wynne, and Cass and Alex too. If for nobody else, Ariadne figured getting out so none of them freaked out too much. That, and, if she thought about it much, being at home with hot chocolate and buried under a blanket, with the knowledge that she, Mack, Jade, and Ollie had helped people. The older woman started to make her way up the ladder. “Mack? When are you coming? ‘Cause I think just about everybody’s all out… Jade, you too, right?”

Mackenzie watched as Ollie rather brilliantly made a path out of the kitchen for himself using the sound of objects hitting the floor. Even though she was currently caught up, and in a dangerous situation, she still found the time to be impressed. But more so, she was just glad that he was going and Ariadne was following suit. They would all be free, and she could sink up in the goo knowing that everyone would probably make it out.

As for her and the current predicament she was in, Mackenzie had found that the more she struggled the faster the goo rose up her legs, and at this point it had made it to her knees. There was definitely no getting out now, and instead of being a fictional film, Goo Girl was starting to feel more like a biographical piece. Thankfully, she had Ariadne’s voice to cut through the fear that was starting to well up in her, and as best she could, she remained calm not wanting to frighten the younger woman, “Yeah, I’ll be there. And, uh, I think Jade already went up. She was like one of the first ones to the top.” Cause you know, staying and actually making sure everyone was safe was too beneath her – at this point, literally.

Taking a useless, but well earned deep breath in, Mackenzie let out a long, quivering sigh. With her poor eyesight looking towards the bright red Exit sign, she watched as it flickered, knowing she was never going to make it out, and now was the time to start to say her goodbyes to those she loved in the world – her parents, Bixby, Winter, Taylor, Alex, Monty, Parker, Milo, and the other friends she had made, especially since coming to Wicked’s Rest. She thought about Brody and how, if there was an afterlife, that she had hoped she would see him again. And Elora. She thought about Elora and the possibilities she would be leaving behind, “Love you guys…”

Closing her eyes as tears rolled down her cheeks, she felt another hard shift of the building, which had caused the goo to spread up her body faster. And though she wanted to be brave, Mackenzie could feel her body shaking as the fear continued to rise making its way over her mouth, nose, eyes, and soon there was nothing, but a statue standing in the place where the zombie once was.

With the building, nearly into the ground and red Exit sign no longer apparent from the goo that rose up the steps inching closer to its next intended targets, it had just about proved successful until something happened. A loud, shrill noise had cut through the air. One that even caused the nearby animals to stop howling. Birds drop mid flight and anything in close proximity cringe and show attention to whatever thing…monster…Moose? That screaming moose that had run through Wicked’s Rest not too long ago. That had to be it. But no matter what it was. It was at the right frequency to cause a shift. To actually harm the goo. And the longer it went on the more the hardened, thick sludge began to crack and crumble.

A cement casing that had formed around everything just below the survivors, including a frozen in time Mack, slowly began to fall, which soon turned into more than just a few pieces here and there, but an avalanche of cursed ground and as the fault line made its way through the fallen building and its rooms, Mackenzie, who was surrounded by the darkness unable to move or speak for what felt like an eternity (though it had literally only been maybe like ten minutes) was soon freed leaving her to collapse to her knees, “What.. the…” She forced out the words, loosening up the goo that slid down her throat and into her lungs. And as she gathered her barings, she quickly clawed her way forwards over rubble and made her way up the remainder of the stairs as quickly as she could, until she could see light at what felt like the end of a long dark tunnel of goopy despair.

It wasn’t the breeziest of times. Nope. So not a vibe. This would totally make a terrible amusement park attraction. But despite the universe conspiring for Jade to have like, an awful time, she held onto the rails like her life depended on it (well…duh). Maybe it was her own hunter training wiring her brain differently than most people trapped with her, but she hadn’t freaked out yet. Why would she? She was a thousand percent confident they would make it out (killing her off would be like, so bad for the plot). Just like she’d been totally sure she could take on an elder vampire by herself. And sure, whatever… That one sorta backfired, but what mattered was being daring. That was the kinda attitude that got you to places. Places like, outside this building. One failure wouldn’t deter her.

And even though she could’ve likely gotten ahead of the line by batting her eyelashes or twirling her hair, she still lingered close to the bottom of the stairs. Her attention was on the team she’d left behind. (‘Cause she was nosy. No other reason). Like, what could they possibly be wasting time on? What was that clattering noise. Did they really wanna be stuck in the goo forever? It couldn’t be good for the skin.

Finally, two of them appeared in the hallway, and Jade rolled her eyes at them in greeting. “Took ya long enough, where’s…” she grimaced at Oliver’s nasty fall, whatever badly timed quip she had ready to go dying in her tongue. Alright, jokes later. She noticed the two were accompanied by somebody else. Not Mack. And… How did she miss this granny when she was lining up people at the stairs? Her heart beat with real concern. This was going to be a problem. Like sure, Jade had the type of core strength people wrote songs about and a deceptively powerful frame only hunter genetics supplied, but little ol' lady being pulled by Oliver and Ariadne? Not so much. She doubted she could hang from the stairs the way Jade was doing. But three young adults could totally work together to ensure one frail old woman got out of the building before them, right? Totes. “Okay, um… Give her to me,” she reached down, wrapping one arm around the woman’s midsection and trusting Oliver and Ariadne to work in tandem with her. “Hi, honey…” she offered a bright smile despite the darkness they were immersed in, hoping to soothe the frazzled look on the woman. “Let’s get you further up, yeah?” With Oliver and Ariadne’s help and the intention to join forces with those ahead of them, they would get the woman closer and closer to the roof access.

That was, until an unnatural screech pierced the air. The grip she had on the woman tightened, feeling Oliver and Ariadne work along with her. Jade felt the scream deep in her bones, rattled by it, but too shocked to sink into any feelings of despair about what the sound could be preceding. Were they about to go down for real? If they were doomed then… Okay, so…The vibration, at least, felt nice once…. It became a constant. If anything, it vibrated better than her… nope. So not the time. It sure was an excellent vibration, though. The walls shook, but it wasn’t the bricks that suffered from the sound. The sludge that had been pooling below them hard like a rock, collapsed. Then it disintegrated. Jade glanced down, locking eyes with part of her team, the same confused expressions mirroring back at her. The floor grumbled beneath, likely adjusting to the lack of goo. And was that… a good or bad thing? Probably better not stay long to check, right? Some celebratory shouts came from all the way from the top, and the line started moving faster. Whew.

Jade made sure to leave the little old lady in better hands before lowering herself to her team. She had a clear question in her mind, one that was answered even before she opened her mouth. A flash of blonde hair from her favorite arch-nemesis had Jade hooting. “That gang’s back! Now please, move your cute butts up.”

She didn’t like the idea of leaving somebody behind, but Mack was insisting and Jade was already on her way, probably, and Ollie knew Ariadne too well for her to pull any quick sort of move. Even if she wasn’t four anymore, he probably could grab her and further insist that she climb the stupid ladder if she tried to run. So, begrudgingly, she started to make her way up, helping the old lady, grateful that Ollie and Jade also both seemed eager to help her, too. Though there was no reason to have expected any other sort of reaction, because they both seemed like really excellent people.

“I - I’m gonna move, I promise.” Ariadne scrunched up her nose, then her whole face.

– didn’t really know what else to do, since words might’ve never been her particular forte, and certainly weren’t doing her favors right at this particular moment.

If it were possible for her knuckles to get any whiter, they were, now, as she gripped the sides of the ladder, only focused on why she was bothering to get out. She wanted to live. Or live-un-live, whatever she technically did. Wynne was out there, and so were her parents. Alex and Cass. Too many other people. She needed to go and watch a ballet in as many places as she could.

Suddenly, though, Ariadne was jerked out of her thoughts by a piercing scream, one that she couldn’t even fully cover her ears, given how her hands were holding tight onto the ladder. Except then she thought she heard Mack’s voice, and whipped her head around. “You – I – you got out!” She swallowed. “I – that’s good. That’s good. We really all need to go though, now, and now we can, ‘cause you’re here.”

Just-outlined by the downtown, late-night light falling in through that so-close exit, the old lady reached ahead to take the many hands coming through the door for her. Ollie had fallen a few steps behind Deeny and Jade, clinging to the stair rail all the way and darting looks back into the pitch black, gooed-up level they were leaving - entirely unsure if he was more or less worried because he couldn’t see Mack-the-maybe-probably-zombie. As if she’d come ripping out of the darkness, all bloody drool and grasping hands, a jump scare.

Mack, who’d helped get all these people out, when she could’ve absolutely massacred them. Except… monsters look like people all the damn time, Willa sighed, weeks ago. Act like people, too. Just look at you.

Fingers clenched a little tighter on that railing, Ollie wavered - eyes entirely on the still-sinking shadows far below them, now. Just look. She’d stood up and saved them. Where was she? He’d taken a step down, not letting go of the rail. Until a shriek broke his grip on everything, slapping his scraped-up hands to his ringing ears. It was - it had to be that kind of shriek, that kind of ringing, the kind that’d left him cold on the shore of Silver Lake. Dr. Kavanagh?

Whoever’s the first scream was, the second was his: a hoarse, frantic yelp as he unscrewed his eyes to find Mack charging up the stairs to meet them. Ollie choked that off, quick, heart hammering. “Mack! Hi! Hi. Are you - you’re okay?” Okay enough to keep not eating anyone? Ideally.

Mackenzie was grateful for whatever that high-pitched shrill scream had been. Being afraid of the dark had never been her thing, but after being enclosed and engulfed in goo, that and a fear of tight spaces wasn’t anything she wanted to experience again anytime soon. And never in her life had she been so grateful to see a friend, a stranger, and a creep (the creep being Jade) after what felt like an eternity of being alone (again, granted it was probably only like twenty minutes. Goo was no joke).

Letting her eyes fall on each of them, and the group still crowding towards the top, a relieved smile washed over her face, but when she went to answer Oliver, instead of words coming out like they had earlier, she started to choke and cough until goo oozed out of her mouth. Mackenzie, rather than holding up the line anymore, gave him a thumbs up, before motioning for them to follow Jade’s lead and move forwards, and as they reached the top of the building, fresh air and the sound of voices reached all of them. The survivors that the group of four had escorted up had started to scream for the attention of anyone that could help them.

It had been quite a while since the Earth had shifted under their feet, but it still wasn’t the most stable of locations to be and the roof seemed to be at an angle and one that Mackenzie had wished she could warn people to be careful walking onto, but had no voice at the moment. Instead, she kept an eye on the older people and moved closer towards the edge of the building looking down at the small figures on the ground. Then the idea hit her, pulling out her phone, she was just about to switch on the flashlight, when she noticed the screen and contents of the iPhone had been cracked under the pressure of the goo. But it appeared as someone near her had picked up on the idea and soon other people did, and before she knew it, everyone had their phones lit up as a way to catch the attention of anyone who could rescue them.

Ariadne, Jade, Oliver, & Mack had done it. They had gotten an entire group of people out to safety and now it was up to whomever was waiting below to finish the job.

#season 1 #group writing

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thearchvillain · 3 years

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of horsefairs and maidens. part 2

nikolai lantsov x reader

link to part 1

summary: The moonless, warm summer night has stretched itself across Caryeva and the duke’s estate where a grand dinner is held in the gardens, in honour of both the horse fair and the princes’ visitation. Nikolai has found himself sat across the table from his brother and both the girl with the broken horse and her father, restrained to only occasional glances and the agitation that simmers beneath his skin, amplifying every time he catches her eyes. It’s all he can do to remain in his seat, even as they leave for the evening at Razumov’s, even as the night drags on - at least until the late hours of the night, too late for sensible decisions.

Nikolai smirked at her, as if to alleviate the seriousness of her warning, "Do you take me for anything less than a gentleman? And here I was thinking I had you charmed Irina, you break my heart. We were just talking."

But Irina didn't look concerned, only amusement lined her features as she sipped her drink, and a bit of motherly sympathy, "Oh my dear prince, you have us all smitten, but it's not her I'm worried about.", she twisted in her seat, to call for a waiter, and said over her shoulder, "And hasn't your mother taught you - nothing's quite as dangerous as talking to a girl like her."

word count: 2.9k

warnings: mentions of alcohol

A/N: well, apparently, this will not be a two parter... i’d claim i was shocked if i wasn’t used to myself going overboard the moment i get hooked on writing the characters ._. i’ve got part 3 down on the paper already (or a word document, but paper sounds more romantic) and it’s 100% focused on their interaction. in this one i really wanted to focus on building up the tension so there’s a lot of Nikolai’s thoughts and frustrations in here, glances cast and warnings given, the whole shebang i really hope you like it, even if it’s kinda lacking in direct interaction for the sake of angst, and once again i want to thank everyone who commented and was so sweet and kind i had no other choice than to rush back excitedly and write my heart out <3 you’re the best!

The dinner was an intricate display of wealth, as grand and carefully arranged as the jewels of a vain woman. One without an ounce of style anyway. The long tables were laden with complicated food, even the ones away from the main table that was orbited by the wealthy, to show off the generosity of the host. He'd even heard his brother say, as a compliment no less, that it seemed even the dogs here ate well. Clearly, he'd wanted to say, since you're here with your plate filled to the brim, brother.

Now the porcelain plate sat before him, the food half-eaten and the glass of finest red wine all finished, as he listened to the war stories offered up to him by an old man with a hefty silver-streaked beard and heftier rosy cheeks, coloured by what must have been a fourth glass of wine. Nikolai would pop into the conversation here and there, if only to show he was paying attention, though he knew well enough that people never really wanted to listen, only to be heard.

"Tell me about your daughter - Alyona, is it?"

The man reeled for a moment, his moustache shifting as he tried to remain dignified while choking on a sip of wine, as dignified as a startled walrus anyway. "You know of my daughter, your highness? Irina--", he turned to his wife at this, near breathless, "Did you hear that? He asked about Alyona!"

The old lady had the common sense not to egg him on too much, only smile and nod as if she knew matching his excitement would mean a definitive death by boredom for Nikolai. And he was thankful for that.

But to be fair, Nikolai hadn't really known of Alyona, only heard her name from the girl with the broken horse when she passed by him in between meal courses, stopping only to cast a glance towards the old general and say, "Ask him about his daughter, Alyona - Saints forbid you ever require it, but he'll raise an entire army for you just for that little bit of kindness. He's very fond of her."

"Is she pretty?", he didn't want to seem like a liar if that was what he complimented the daughter on instead of her smarts, or talent for music.

The girl had raised an eyebrow, then looked back at him, "Does it matter? Fathers like him always think their girls are the prettiest. They're not wrong."

He'd wanted to stop her then, to ask her about the general's wife, or his dog, or anything really - and it would've been as easy as reaching out to take her wrist in his hand, had she not slipped back into the crowd and disappeared as quickly as she'd appeared by his side.

Now he took his glass of wine, filled once again by one of the waiters, and held that instead, his eyes wandering across the table to where his brother sat, red-cheeked and rowdy. She was sat next to him, straight-backed and so still Nikolai thought she might have been a vision or a sculpture wrought in alabaster had the light evening wind not stirred the sheer silk of her gown and made it all come alive. It fell in rich waves off her shoulders, plentiful, but not plentiful enough to hide the gentle slope of her neck where it dipped to her chest, interrupted only by a fine necklace of tiny emeralds, or the wrists that glided through the motions as she picked at the food.

The wine had made him too unwilling to look away, and he'd nearly caught his brother's eyes over the rim of his glass, so now he had to drag his gaze back to the general, who was near breathless talking about Alyona's adventures with the pony he bought for her.

"...and I told Irina, no man of sound mind would let his little girl on that beast."

The beast being a pony, Nikolai supposed.

"Did you think she would just pet it? It's not a cat.", this was the wife, sounding tired in a way only a woman who'd heard this story a million times and still thought it stupid, could.

"You should've at least let me call Orlov's girl, I swear that creature was born on the damn horse! That form! We could've used her in the cavalry!"

"That poor thing's got enough on her mind with a father like that, and for Saint's sake stop recruiting people at dinner parties."

This time Nikolai interrupted, however riveting this exchange was, "The Orlov's girl?"

Irina cast him a surprised glance, "Yes, that pretty thing with your highness' brother? I thought you met her."

Now Nikolai had an actual excuse to look her away, and he wasn't about to throw it away. This time, she had her hands folded in her lap and Vasily at her ear speaking something delightfully stupid, no doubt. Nikolai watched her drag her teeth across her lower lip, still so mesmerized by the way it popped back into place that he was near startled when her eyes slipped straight to him.

She did not smile. But maybe that was for the better because even from across the table he could see the muscles in her cheek twitch, as if she was dragging the corners of her lips down with the sheer force of will, not quite as restrained as she'd hoped to be. He realised she was trying not to smile, and somehow that made his mind reel more than any unbridled grin a girl at this table could've offered him. She downcast her eyes, lashes brushing against her cheek as she busied herself with the bracelet on her wrist, and Nikolai sipped his wine to drive away the urge to keep staring, to keep trying to provoke her until she could not hold that smirk back.

But then Vasily brushed the stray lock of her hair back and her features stilled as if all that pertness had been drained from them instantly, a muscle played in her jaw before she lifted her eyes and smiled prettily. Not at Nikolai, though. He saw an older man sitting to her left tap her hand like one would when a dog's performed a trick well, and Nikolai felt his muscles tense. Vasily beamed, Nikolai gripped his glass, her father looked at her like she was his golden ticket.

"A vile man.", Irina said over her glass.

Nikolai hadn't noticed, but the general was now busy entertaining the waiter with questions about the wine, and only his wife was fully present, the lines of her face arranged into a look of dignified distaste. She was speaking to Nikolai.

"Count Orlov?"

"He treats that poor girl like property.", her upper lip curled, "And unfortunately the Saints haven't given her a bad temper, so she listens."

Nikolai leaned back in his chair, swirling the wine as he followed Irina's gaze to his brother, drunk on wine and forced smiles from a pretty girl, "I don't think she's as helpless as you paint it."

"Oh, she's not. She's playing them both like a fiddle. I'm just saying, at her age, I would've wreaked havoc by that point.", she shrugged, "I'm not a subtle woman, you see."

"Ha!", the general was joining the conversation once again, now that he'd gotten his wine, "Listen to what she tells you! She's a wild animal, that one!"

"Darling. Not in front of a prince."

"What?", to his credit, he did look genuinely confused, "His highness doesn't mind, do you? I'm just saying my wife's always been a force of nature, no shame in that! She's a scary woman, it's a good thing to have by your side."

Nikolai did not, indeed, mind at all. He was just trying not to choke on the wine as laughter bubbled up from his chest, especially when Irina raised an eyebrow at her husband, and he could see her attempting not to grin at that strange assemble of compliments. Their bickering was felt like a light summer breeze, a welcome reprieve from the tension he could feel simmering in the air, across the table.

"It's the wine.", she turned her gaze to Nikolai, still smirking, "Don't mind him."

"Ha! And what explanation do you have for that sharp tongue?"

"I married an idiot and was forced to evolve because of it."

"Please, when I first mustered up the courage to ask her for a dance--", this was directed at Nikolai as the large man shifted in his seat, "And mind you, I've been less afraid for my life on the battlefield than in front of that woman! You know what she told me? She told me to break a leg and see if that helps with my coordination.", he leaned to the side to cast his wife a look over Nikolai, "You've always had that sharp tongue on you, my love."

Nikolai raised an eyebrow at her, "Was he that bad?"

Beaming because he didn't immediately sympathise with her husband, Irina shrugged in feigned disdain, "No, he was quite handsome and good on the floor, still is. You just can't let them forget how lucky they are to even have you looking in their direction."

"What can I say, my girl knows her business! I fell for it, hook, line and sinker."

Nikolai was the one charmed, for once, but his eyes still strayed to the other side of the table, even as the old couple continued lovingly bickering beside him. Vasily was up and about, and the girl and her father were following close behind, the valet running around guiding them towards a carriage that was waiting on the other side of the fence.

"Where are they going?", he schooled his voice into one of mild disinterest, fit of a prince not particularly invested in his brother's dalliances. Beneath it all though, he felt dangerous, like he was being suspended on the edge of getting up and following - his brother was a nasty, distasteful creature on good days, and this wasn't even one of those.

"Mister Razumov's.", Irina answered, because the general was now waving wildly demanding another piece of those little lemon cakes, "New money. Wild parties. Wilder vices. Gambling and alcohol are galore. They'll come to invite you too."

He did not doubt that - even his brother's title had nothing on Nikolai's charm or the exclusivity of having him there on the rare occasion that he was home instead of on the front. It still did little to placate him as he watched them climb into the carriage, his brother's slimy hand holding hers as he helped up the steps, her hair tossed wildly across her bare back as she turned one last time to cast a glance Nikolai's way. He held her eyes for a moment, both their faces still as stone, then watched her disappear behind carriage's curtains as he sipped his wine, wondering wildly if he should even go.

What good would it do? Her father would be there, watching, and there was no money to be made with a prince that had an interest only in books and weapons, no matter how charming he was. He cleared his throat and finished the glass. He'd just get her in trouble - it wasn't like Nikolai himself was particularly known as a voice of reason, he preferred to stick to an assemble of charming qualities, like ill-advised impulses and regret.

"You could stay, you know?", this was Irina again, sounding less like a wild animal her husband had described, and more like a mother. At least what Nikolai imagined mothers sounded like. Sympathetic.

"Sorry?"

"Do you think I'll get this big boulder to move and go home anytime soon?", she nodded towards her husband, then smiled, "Some of us stay here instead of going to Razumov's, there's music and food and wine, good company too. If your highness hasn't been scared away by our marital displays."

"Please, call me Nikolai.", his usual glib smirk had slipped back onto his lips, as easy as a mask, "And no, I must admit, I'm quite charmed by the displays. Tell me, Irina, where does one get one of those?"

She didn't look quite convinced, but she smiled still, "You stumble upon it, by Saint's will, and then you can't look away. The lucky ones, anyway.", she cleared her throat, "Stay, it would be quite the honour."

"All mine. Your husband's a great general. And the royalty never gets enough servings from sharp tongues anyway."

"My husband's a fool.”, she shrugged lightly, “But I make up for it in the charms department."

"I heard that woman!", there was no ire in general’s voice, and it was merely a passing comment as he waved at the poor waiter again, "Would one of you penguins like to explain why the prince's glass is empty?"

Nikolai hadn't wondered about that, but now that it was brought up he felt like another glass and a distinct lack of his brother might be of help, "Why do you assume I won't go?"

"Because you've been staring at that girl all night."

Nikolai's head snapped from the waiter back to Irina, and he caught the traces of a grin in the corners of her lips as she sipped her wine. Had he been that obvious? He didn't think so, but the wine and conversation might have made him sloppy - it was one thing to avoid provoking Vasily into being even creepier due to jealousy, another to avoid someone like Irina.

"Don't be so shocked young prince, that big buffoon used to look at me like that, once. I'd spot it anywhere, like a good game in the forest. She could barely stop smirking. It's quite painful, you know, not to smile when you catch someone looking at you like that. I must admit, she’s quite adept."

Nikolai considered telling her that big buffoon certainly still did look at her like that, but he was assuming she already knew that. She didn't look like a woman who'd settle for anything less. "Well, to be fair, I've been told I am quite dashing. She can't really be blamed."

This made her laugh, in the way experienced older people do when they're charmed by some youngling's naivete, "Tell her that and see what comes back at you."

"I've already tried, it wasn't pretty."

Irina leaned in, conspirational, "That's why it's fun. My husband told you already. Hook, line and sinker. The girl knows how it's done.", then she leaned back, more serious, "It's why I'd stay away if I were you. We have plenty of food, wine and girls for you here. You're all the rage."

***

The night dragged on, or perhaps dragged wasn't exactly the right word. The general had a way of livening up the place even as the people cleared, some to go to Razumov's, others to go to sleep in their beds. The brave ones that stayed - and there were quite a few after he did some rounds about the tables - were unable to leave because he'd managed to somehow get more food, more alcohol and more musicians, and no one of sound mind would leave this wild story he'd spun around them. They laughed and spoke of war and danced under the clear night sky, the air tinted with the scent of burning wood and meat and laughter.

Nikolai had nearly forgotten, how much heart there was in nights like these, how much he loved the people and the songs and this country. He himself had danced and laughed and drank, and was now sitting on a chair rocking himself precariously on two of its legs, wrapped in that safety blanket of stupor that came with late hours of the night, or early hours of the morning, watching the general and his wife swirl in front of the musicians.

He wondered how they were still up and going, much less dancing, though he could guess that alcohol, and a lot of it, had something to do with it. And alcohol, and a lot of it, had something to do with no one noticing a figure sitting upright on a horse somewhere out behind the fence, in the deep darkness of a moonless night. The silks shifted around the figure, carried by the breeze, like something out of Tolya's stories of spectres and hallucinations haunting the fallen battlefields. Nikolai thought wildly that there must be one about a ghost-girl on a horse, haunting the minds of men in moonless nights, with silks made out of moonlight and cruel elegance draped across her shoulders. Or something like that.

Nikolai let his chair hit the ground and was up before the girl who'd been talking to him had even managed to look confused by his sudden change in mien. He drained his glass before putting it down on the table with a bit too much force and slid through the crowd that had gathered by the band.

Tolya’s story would have probably been meant as a warning to young men not to head towards those strange apparitions, or something equally ominous, but Nikolai never put much stock in the stories anyway, especially not ones made up by his drunken mind as he followed after her into the darkness. She looked improbable, sitting tall on that horse waiting for him, but not impossible. And that was good enough for him.

tags: @mentally-in-northern-italy

please feel free to comment or hit me up in the DMs (even if you just want to talk because honey i’m THERE for it) if you’d like to be tagged when the next part comes out!

#nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov imagine #grishaverse #shadow and bone #not me already jumping onto editing part 3 #tbh nikolai drives me insane every time i write him

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dear-mrs-otome · 4 years

Text

Johann Georg Faust - 2nd Birthday (His POV) - Yet Another Terrible Summary

(Faust: "...The children will wake up.")

Here is my irreverent, only nominally-guaranteed accurate rendition of Faust’s 2nd birthday story in his POV.

(We start with a one-liner, ‘narrator voice’ Faust saying how he had learned from a very young age that the world was an absurd place.)

It’s February 28th, and at his church, MC has arrived with a bag she offers him, claiming they’re delicious treats she wanted to share. He asks if she’s there to celebrate his birthday, pointing out to her there’s no February 29th this year. She deflates, grumbling that she hadn’t expected him to see through things so quickly, and he tells her that if she does something like that out of the blue of course he’s going to wonder why.

He can’t believe she’s trying again, after he’d told her last year he didn’t want to celebrate and that the day was meaningless - it’s merely the day he was found after having been abandoned as a baby. No sentimentality to it. But he can also clearly recall the way she’d told him last year she wanted him to be happy on his birthday...and bemused by that sentiment still, he takes the proffered bag.

He says that if it’s a gift, he’ll take it because he can think of someone it’ll make happy. MC finally notices the small child hovering around when he says this, and she has a spittake moment of ILLEGITIMATE KIDDO?? Faust teases her about having a very wild imagination, causing her to sputter, and he pinches her cheeks lightly at her flailings before he hands the bag of candy off to the little boy.

The child seem incredulous at the gift, but MC assures him she’d be happy if he ate it, and she asks him his name. The boy tells her it is Hugo in a small voice. She asks Hugo if he’s from around here, but Faust answers for him - he says he is, but he’s due to circumstances he’s about to take the child to the orphanage now.

MC surprises him by asking if it’s no bother, can she come along too? He tells her it makes no matter to him - wondering to himself if she’s worried about the kiddo. She thanks him, and urges little Hugo to get ready to go, his little hand fast in hers.

They’re greeted by the orphanage matron when they arrive, who kindly welcomes Hugo to his new home. MC hands the boy off with a soft look, and Faust is all in a hurry to leave now that his duty is done...when one of the orphan children notices the priest and the lady and calls out to them.

Spotted, Faust thinks, and no sooner has the first kid called out than the rest of the kids come running over as well, all crowding around him and clamoring for them to stay and play.

Faust immediately shuts the idea down, but MC cajoles that if they have time, they should stay and play. He warns her that she will only regret the idea - when they’re interrupted by the matron asking if they wouldn’t mind actually? She’s short-handed on help and needs to step out to get some things but can’t leave the kids unattended.

She really is not taking no for an answer, and thus Faust and MC find themselves babysitting the orphanage until she returns.

Some time later, Faust is pulling an ‘I told you so’ on an exhausted MC, who’s been run ragged by the eager children. She flops to a seat, and looks up at him soberly, where he’d just picked up a child and put them to sleep. She observes that he’s good with the children, and he says he has practice - he used to take care of some a long time ago.

He spares a moment to wonder to himself how many of them grew up to lead out their lives, given how life in an orphanage long ago was far from easy. Then as he’s looking out over the children he realizes they’re short one, and says as much aloud.

MC and he go searching, and shortly they find Hugo outside near the gates, huddled and shivering in the cold winter air. Faust realizes this is more than simply being sad about his new surroundings, and it’s MC tries to herd him inside so he doesn’t catch a cold.

But little Hugo balks, and he says no, he wants to stay here - if he caught a cold and died, would he meet his mom and dad in heaven?

Faust realizes from the stunned expression on MC’s face that she’s finally understood the truth of Hugo’s situation. His parents both had died in an accident and he was forced to enter the orphanage when no one came to collect him after the funeral. Faust thinks it’s not unreasonable for Hugo to be saddened, but…

“There’s no guarantee you’ll meet someone who has passed on. It’s pointless to choose death for that,” he tells Hugo. “Unless of course someone were to be dissected after death for posterity...then their death wouldn’t be a total waste.”

MC sputters at him for saying such a thing to a child, but Faust is remorseless, still thinking it’s foolish to have any hopes or expectations for after death. As a priest, he often tells people that ‘those who pass on are ushered into the kingdom of heaven’...but he himself has never seen Heaven, or God provide any sort of salvation.

Hugo wonders aloud why his mom and dad had to die? Why did God decide such a thing?

Faust tells him that the world is an absurd place and urges him that if he has any sort of doubts, to think about how he can live in defiance of his destiny...rather than letting winter’s cold choose life or death for him. He takes his jacket off and slips it over those tiny shoulders, and watches as MC wipes away the tears that fall from Hugo’s eyes, comforting him.

He thinks...that he cannot recall what sadness is, what it feels like anymore. But he can tell how incredibly warm the hand MC slips into Hugo’s is.

After they’ve gotten the children all settled for their nap, MC replaces Faust’s jacket with a blanket on the sleeping Hugo and turns to him, holding it as she stares at him. He finally asks her, what?? And she asks what sort of children it was he’d spent time with in the past.

Faust teases her about asking something out of the blue like that, and for being so keenly interested - startling him when she unapologetically agrees that she does want to know about him, and if he tells her she’ll return his jacket.

Faust grumbles that it’s a lame deal, given that it’s not a fun story to hear...but he doesn’t get the impression that she’s asking out of idle curiosity or a whim alone, so he indulges her. He tells her that when he was a baby, he was found by an older nun and grew up in an orphanage located in an old church. He says that they were terribly poor, but he survived, and when he got older he helped take care of the other children. Many of them would die before winter’s end, or disappear after being taken in by foster parents.

Eventually, he was fostered out himself and the nun who raised him died of an illness, and the orphanage was closed. End of story.

He thinks that the abbreviated version he told her was the parts that didn’t hurt...but she still looks up at him with a sadness in her eyes when she asks what sort of woman was the nun?

Faust says that she was incredibly kind, too kind to ignore an abandoned child, and probably too compassionate for her own good.

He thinks how she was kind up until the very end, giving and giving of herself to anyone….and he recalls a time when she’d come to him.

“Thank you for taking care of everyone, Johann” she had said. “But why don’t you put the books down and go play?”

“It’s fine. Even if I make friends with them, they will all leave someday,” he had told her.

“Johann...The reason why you never cry is because you keep your sadness locked away…”

He can still see the sad smile she had worn and hear the conversation they’d had, rising to the surface of a sea of old memories. He coldly waits for those lingering remnants to pass...when his reverie is interrupted by MC telling him she’s thankful the woman found little Faust. That even if the world is an absurd place, she’s happy to be able to celebrate his birthday with him now.

Her words stun him into silence, leaving him only able to stare at her faint smile. He’d never thought of it that way - the consideration to be thankful for such a thing. Her words shed a new light on his cold memories, and sneak their way into his heart.

He teases her though, saying that she speaks of odd things and he wonders if she’s merely angling to dig through people’s pasts and root out their weaknesses. A sputtering MC vehemently denies she’d do such a thing and accuses him of being a smartass, and righteously stomps towards him to shove the jacket back at him...when she steps on a stray toy block, loses her footing, and crashes into him.

They both tumble to the ground, her atop him, and she’s staring down at him wide-eyed as she beings babbling apologies - only to have them fade into muffled sounds when he quickly reaches up and presses her face onto his chest to stifle her voice.

“You’ll wake the children,” he warns her...though he pauses a moment to linger on the soft feel of her cheek on his bare skin, where his shirt has fallen into disorder. He’s thinking, this woman is unbelievable, as he chides her for such - sighing heavily and asking if she gets a kick out of bothering him.

But he’s getting a kick out of her blushing face and her averted eyes, the sight stirring his mean streak enough that he can’t let the opportunity to give her a hard time pass. He teases her about being the one with the red face when she pushed him down...and is amused by her appalled reaction. He says she’s something else to straddle a man with a face like that, right next to a bunch of sleeping children...and he strokes his hands up the thighs that bracket his hips, enjoying the little sigh she lets out.

The moment is broken by a soft sound from one of the children tossing in their sleep, and MC leaps off him like a scalded cat. The whole situation is so incredibly absurd that Faust can’t help laughing, even if it’s met by a glare from MC as she asks him what is so funny.

He’s still chuckling as he points out her reaction, and how amusing it all was...all the while thinking, it has been a very long time since he has laughed so much. He slips back on the jacket she shoves at him, and tells her that he never gets tired of watching her - he wants to keep her close at hand, so he can observe her always.

His words have her turning her face away, but the look in her eyes before she does makes him happy. He wants to know more about her, he thinks. What manner of things would he discover, if he caught her and kept her all to himself, and figured out what made her tick? Her presence in this world, that he looks at through such cold eyes, stirs his heart.

FIN

(many thanks as always to @mikotomizuki for giving this a second set of eyes!)

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp faust #ikevamp jp #spoiler #spoilers #ikemen vampire spoilers #ikevamp spoilers #ikevamp birthday #ikevamp jp summary #AGAIN THEY CAME FOR OUR OVARIES WITH THE KIDS #I love how kids seem to adore him #he collects them wherever he goes and he's just *sigh*#kids can smell capable faust

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ziee · 3 years

Text

Blinky x Reader (18+)

Arcadia. Back once more after the 15 years you've been gone. You were a friend of the Domzalski's, and the un-paid babysitter of their baby son. The day they won the lottery, you cheered in excitement for them. And the day they fell into the sea, you cried for them.

The heartbreak of your 2 best friends struck you so severely, you couldn't stand being in Arcadia any longer. The memories, the high school all 3 of you went to, the restaurant you went to after every celebration. You just couldn't bear it. The last memories of the small town were bidding little Toby and Nana goodbye.

But now, you're back.

Nana had contacted you, saying she needed help with Tobies. Half-blind and all, old and raising a teenager, you could see why. You didn't want to be out of your best friend's childs' life completely at the loss of his parents, so once in a while, you phoned your adoptive nephew. Just checking up on him, seeing how he was.

You had accepted, of course. Slightly jumping at the opportunity and a reason to come back to Arcadia, you called in sick for an indefinite amount of days and packed a suitcase. Filling up your car, you hopped into the driver's seat and started the long drive.

You were kind of thankful that you didn't have to buy a plane ticket, hating planes and airports, but the long, lonely roads brought into account new emotions. This is the first time you're going back to your hometown in 15 years.. You're going to see the high school. And the restaurant. And.. Their house.

The house you saw them buy, build and love. You remember watching them set up a room for the new baby. Deciding the colors, layout, and designs of the wall. You remember getting sloshed in the living room, accidentally breaking one of the photos upon the fireplace. Your kind of glad you did, seeing as you took the photo and hung it in your house.

The photo of the 3 of you.

The days were long in your small car, the best you could afford. Stopping at family dinners and shitty motels to rest. The cycle stopped on day 6, finally reaching the sign with bold letters spelling out, 'Arcadia'.

You picked up your phone and dialed Nana. She picked up after the 3rd time. "Hello dear! Y/n, are you coming soon?" She spoke happily, a bag crunching in the background.

"Hi, Nana. I just got into Arcadia, I'll be there in less than 10 minutes!" You smiled as you heard the old lady scolded one of her many cats.

"Alright dear. See you soon." She ended the call before you could bid farewell. You chuckled and rolled your eyes, setting your phone down into your cup container. You took in a deep breath as you entered the small town.

Driving past the buildings that seem so familiar but have changed so much, you felt an array of emotions. Happy your here. Confused as to why they would change things. Sorrow as you remembered multiple memories in the areas you passed.

Driving into the neighborhood, your car stilled at the infamous yellow house. Their house. You stared at it through your window, looking into their own as light shone from within. You sighed and started your car again.

Eventually, you pulled into Nana's driveway. Strolling up to the doorsteps, you knocked 3 times before waiting. A shuffle, a huff, and then the door opens. You smiled as your eyes suddenly felt teary. "Y/n! Oh dear, come inside, come inside." She urges you inside, holding a foot out to prevent a black cat from escaping.

You enter the warm house, the smell of bread and... Burritos filling the room? You shrug it off as you're ushered to the couch. Sitting down, you let out a heave of relief. You're not sure why. "So, how have you been?" You ask as Nana moves towards the kitchen, presumably to make you some tea.

"Oh, I've been fine. Toby and the cats keep me busy." She laughs as she grabs 4 cups. 4 cups? You could understand that the other 1 would be for Toby, so who was the other one for?

"That's great Nana." You smile, sinking into the soft cushion. Your car was not the worst, but my god the seats were terrible. It felt like nails were digging into your back and ass. Not that good for almost a week's road trip.

"So how are you dear?" She spoke as she took the kettle off the burner as it began to scream.

"Oh I've been better, I mean- WAIT- NANA, LET ME HELP YOU!" You shout, running towards the old lady, taking the opened kettle out of her hands. Unbeknownst to her, she had almost poured boiling water onto her cat.

"Ohoho, your so helpful already." She mumbles, skittering off into the living room. You look down at the tea bags sat in one of the empty cups. Orange Pekoe.. She still knows what kind you like after all these years. Your heart swells as you pour hot water into the cups, your lips rising like a goofball.

Stirring the drinks, 2 of the cups had hot chocolate and the other 2 had tea. You could guess which is which, so you handed Nana a cup while placing your own on the table before grabbing the other 2 mugs.

"I'm gonna bring this to Toby and..?"

"Oh! Toby has a friend over. His international friend, his names Arthur-San." You nodded and headed upstairs. From the top, you could hear loud cheers from inside the room you thought to be Tobies'. You knocked and waited, but you don't think they heard you from the loud volume of a video game.

You sighed and opened the door. Inside, 2 backs were turned to you. One, obviously being Toby and the other.. It was a white sheet. A large, very large in fact, figure was sat beside Toby, wearing a bedsheet. Uh-

"Hey Toby, and Arthur, Nan-" You stopped mid-sentence as the heads turned to you. A large, circle-ish face appeared from the draped sheet. A green, mossy beard decorated its chin, a mouth with 4 long teeth sticking out, and are those- HORNS??

"T-Toby.. Who is that?" You cautiously, and very slowly, set the drinks down onto a nearby dresser.

"Aunt Y/n?! What are you doing here?" Toby gets up and comes near you. You quickly grab onto him, wrapping your arms around him as you run out the door. "Wait- Auntie Y/n, he's a friend!" You turn around and quickly shut the door as you place Toby back down.

"Toby, go get Nana and run!" You scream. He just stands there, sighing. A knock from the inside of the room startles you. "Wingman?" A gruff voice speaks. You shriek as the knob is pulled from your grip, the door opening as the large head sticks out, right in front of you. Its black nose presses against your shoulder, pulling in a long sniff.

"Oh go-" And your fainting. A stone hand stops you mid-fall, preventing you from hitting a hard bottom as your eyes closed.

"I'll call Jim."

You awoke on a soft plush. Feeling around, you realize you're on a bed. "Master Jim, Lady Y/n is awaking." A deep voice calls out, sensing that you knew he was close to you from how loud he was. You sit up, rubbing your eyes as you adjust to the light of the room. Looking around, it was just a regular room. Including a monster with 6 eyes.

"AHHHH!" You scream, scrambling off the bed. The moment you do so, 2 teenagers including Toby run into the room. You move near Toby, your eyes locked on the monsters.

"Woah! Calm down Miss Y/n, if we can just explain everything-" You cut the boy with twig legs off.

"Oh, you kids better explain as to why there is a- .. A-"

"I believe the word is 'Troll." The blue monster says.

"Yes! That! Why there is a troll with 6 eyes and 4 arms staring at me right now!" You pointed to Toby, "And you! Explain what happened earlier, with that big guy. Right now." You huffed.

"Is she talking about Aaarrrgghh?" The girl with a blue streak in her hair spoke.

"Aaarrgghh? Wait a minute.. Arthur?!" Your brows furrowed. "Toby, have you been lying to Nana about this 'International student'?" You made finger quotes as you looked upon your nephew's embarrassed face.

"Uhhh, maybe?" He shrugs. You sigh, disappointed in your nephew.

"If you'll allow me to explain, Lady Y/n,"

Oh- no man, or at least you think it's male, has ever called you lady..

"Aaarrrggh and I are trolls. Master Jim as you see over there," He points to chicken legs, "Is the troll hunter. Underneath your world, there is a magnificent other world, filled with trolls and things you couldn't possibly believe." He waves his hands up in the air.

You nod, taking it all in.

"Ugh, this hurts my head." Another world? Trolls? Troll hunter?? Jim moves beside the blue troll whose name you don't know and speaks to him softly.

"Hi, I'm Claire." There's a hand that's shoved in front of you, in which you awkwardly shake.

"Hey, I'm Toby's aunt. Not biological but I knew his parents well." She nodded before removing her hand from yours. You leaned down, whispering into Toby's ear.

"Who's 6 eyes?"

A voice answered you before Toby's mouth even opened. "My name is Blinky. A pleasure to meet you, lady Y/n." The troll paddles over to you, his stone feet making satisfying clicking sounds as he walks. He holds one of his upper hands out for you to shake.

He didn't seem like such a threat, in fact, he seemed like a gentleman. You smiled and shook his hand. His skin was stone, as you could feel the cracks engraved into it as your hand flooded with a strange warmth.

"Nice to meet you too, Blinky." You release his hand after a few seconds of shaking.

"Master Jim and I were discussing a matter regarding you. If you would like, we could show you Troll Market."

"Troll Market?" You question.

"The home of trolls such as myself, and Aaarrrgghh over here." He points behind him, your eyes wander over to the window as you see that large head. The large troll waves a hand and smiles, seeing as everybody's eyes are now on him.

"Has he been out there the whole time?" You ponder. Why isn't he just in the room?

"Rooms too small." You look around, finding it is indeed smaller than your nephew's room. Oh well. You think about the opportunity to travel to this unknown world. Eh, why not. You would be keeping an eye on Toby as well, so that's always good.

"Um, well, if your offering then, of course, I'd come. Thank you for inviting me." You smile at the blue troll. He smiles back, his 6 eyes staring into your 2. His eyes just seemed so soft.. And mesmerizing, having never seen anyone like this before. Your eyes ghost his face, inspecting upon closer details on the stoned troll.

...

"Ahem." Jim coughs. You both suddenly break eye contact as Blinky coughs, making his way towards the exit.

"Aha! Yes, we should be going. Daylight is rising." He muttered as the teens follow him out. You follow, exiting the house as the breeze of the night flushes your already pink cheeks. Your lead to the bridge you had driven over while entering the town, but now under it.

Aaarrrgghh is tossed a glowing stone by Blinky, creating a semi-circle on the stone of the bridge. He punches the wall, creating a crack before it starts to fall apart. Yellow swirls around the stone before creating something like a portal?

The trolls head in, followed by Jim and Claire. "Cmon auntie, it won't hurt you." You begrudgingly sigh and follow him inside the glowing portal. Stepping inside, you wince as you close your eyes.

Not even a second later, you could feel your area darken. Opening your eyes, you see everyone else staring at you. Your cheeks flush in embarrassment. Goddammit. The kids laugh as Blinky looks at with you an indescribable expression.

Is he disappointed? Shocked? Unbeknownst to you, the corners of the blue troll's lips rose. "This way, lady Y/n." His 4 hands motioned you to the crystal stairs, swirling downwards in a circle. Oh my god- Wow.

Everyone makes their way down the steps, in comfortable silence. Coming further down, you stop as you take in the view. The magnificent, one-of-a-kind, breathtaking, OH MY GOD, view. "Wow." You mumble in awe, looking up at the enormous, orange crystal in the center. Everything was so beautiful.

"Welcome to HeartStone Troll Market!" Blinky exclaimed from behind you. The other smiled as they watched your reaction. Stepping down the steps, you ended up beside the 6 eyed troll as you stopped.

"Where should we go first?" Toby asked as you gazed upon the well-spoken mystery. Now taking a better look as the others speak, you watch as his eyes blink simultaneously. How the 2d tooth on both sides of his mouth is cracked. The deep grooves into his stone skin. You paid minor attention to what he was wearing before, but now looking closer you see the 2 satchels sporting each hip on his brown overalls.

Your gazing ventures further down, looking at his flat feet. Heh, they look stumpy. "Great! We'll take you to the forge, where you can see my impressive hammer skills!" Toby proclaimed, steering your head up from your gaze.

6 eyes met yours. Oh god, did he see you staring at him? Did he see you staring below his waist??? He doesn't bring it up if he did, instead leading the 5 of you to the 'forge'.

"This is the forge, where many of our great warriors have trained." Blinky gestures around the grand room. You look around in awe, feeling a little overwhelmed by such a beautiful realm.

"It's amazing." You whisper, settling yourself on the sidelines of the giant arena as the kids grab weapons. Weapons?! Oh god.. Aaarrrgghh comes and sits behind you, jolting you with a loud thud as he sits. Blinky stands beside you, gazing out at the children.

"Indeed they are." Your eyes meet his 6, a glance before breaking contact. You smile, proud of your little nephew.

"Aunt Y/n! Look!" The ginger boy yelled from across the large expanse. You watch as he pulls out a small item, before smashing it to the ground. It sprouts a large, flaming orange hammer. Your mouth widens in shock as you see him swish the weapon around. "Impressive, right? It's my war hammer." He says as he trudges over to you.

"Uh yeah, just please be careful with that." He laughs before skittering off. Guess he gets that from Nana. You sigh as you watch the kids spar, rather impressed by Jim's armor and Claire's staff. After they were done fooling around, you see as Claire checks her watch.

"Guys, it's almost 6:30. We should get going." Mumbling as she puts away her shadow staff. Toby groans, retracting his hammer as Jim takes off the amulet.

"Ughh, I forgot we had school today." You slightly chuckle at the kids' words, being the exact same as a child. Jim, Claire, and Toby all run towards the exit of Trollmarket whereas you stand still. Toby looks behind him, seeing your unmoving form.

"Are you coming, auntie?" He cocks his head.

"Oh! Yeah, yeah, I just thought I would have more time checking the place out.." You trail off, glancing at what you thought to be your last look at the mysterious underground world. From behind you, Blinky and Aaarrrgghh look towards each other.

"Ahem, if I may, Aaarrrgghh and I will accompany Lady Y/n down here while you're at school. If.. That is alright with you?" His dark, red eyes turn to your form. You nod excitedly.

"Yes! Yes, I would love that." His lips form a smile, 6 eyes gleaming at you before turning back to the other 3 humans.

"Now, run along kids. Aaarrrgghh and I will keep Lady Y/n safe." 2 of his hands form a 'shoo' motion as they smile. You move towards Toby, wrapping him in a hug before bidding goodbye. Turning towards your new-found troll friends, you couldn't help but grin as your leaded into the busy streets of the market.

"This place is so beautiful. How long have you guys been living down here?" You wonder, looking around at all the shop stalls.

"A few centuries, after the battle of Killahead bridge, we had traveled until we found the heartstone you see today." Blinky gestured a hand to the bright, orange crystal towards the center wall of the market.

"Hated boat." Aaarrrgghh chimed in from behind, his large statue circling both the conundrum troll and the female human.

"Yes, we all did." Memories flashed in his 6 eyes before he shivered, obviously not liking that part of his life.

"Killahead bridge? What's that?" You question. You're stopped in front of what looked to be a bookstore. The 2 trolls enter, you following closely behind them as you take in the view. Books littered the walls everywhere. Bookshelves, books on tables, and some even on the floor.

"Ah, and that's the reason why I took you here. You seem like a lover of history, as I am. Therefore, Lady Y/n, I have taken you to my lodgings to learn about troll history!" He exclaims, clearly excited.

"This is your house?" Looking around, it does suit him.

"Indeed, now make it as if your own. I will fetch you some books you can read that will fully satisfy a craving for troll history." He runs around the room, 4 arms stacked full of large books that would most likely take you hours to read. Aaarrrgghh yawns from the corner, bored.

A few minutes later, he sets the books down with a thud on a large table. You sit in one of the chairs presented, grabbing one of the books from the top of the stack. Opening it up, you stare blankly. Turning the pages, you realize you can't read the language.

"Blinky, I can't read this." You say, head popping up from the pages, meeting his 6 eyes. He walks over to you, standing closely behind you as he looks over your shoulder. Your heartbeat quickens as you can see the strands of each of his hair. His long ears softly flap as his eyebrows furrow while reading what you can't.

"Hmm.. That is an issue." He sets a hand on his chin, pondering for a quick while before getting an idea. Sliding a chair over, he sits in front of you, grabbing the book from the table into his 2 upper hands. "Well, I'll just read it to you!" He smiles as you nod, eagerly wanting to learn about something you didn't know existed until 2 hours ago.

And so began the many hours of Blinky reading trollish to you. At some point, Aaarrrgghh decided to leave the hole, leaving you and the conundrum troll alone. You arch your strained back as he finished reading the last sentence of the 3rd book. "And those were all the creatures starting with an A!"

"Wow Blinky that was really, informational." Stretching your legs outwards, you bump onto his foot with your own. Recoiling your legs, you speak quickly, "Oh, sorry." Your cheeks flush.

"No worries Lady Y/n." He sets the book down on the table. "This may sound a bit odd," His eyes find yours, "but I've always been fascinated with the human body. If it's alright with you, lady Y/n, may I take a look at you?"

You thought for a second. Of course, you would also be curious about a different type of species other than your own. Plus, although you've only known him for a few hours, you trusted him. You nod, "Yea sure." He visibly relaxed at your answer. "But," You continue, " I want to look at you too."

He blinked, processing your words before smiling. "Of course." You were unsure of what to do now, sitting in silence as you both watched each other. It was only when he scooted closer, the sound of his chair scraping the ground broke you from your gaze.

"If I may..?" He gestured towards your resting arm. You quickly lifted it up and bent closer, showing him your fleshy arm. He told ahold gently, stone hands that were surprisingly warm against your skin. He traced up and down your arm, squishing a few times.

His breath tickled your skin, resulting in tiny goosebumps forming. "What are those small bumps?" He mumbled, eyes fixated on your arm.

"Those are goosebumps. Humans get them when we're cold." You answer, enjoying being the teacher for once.

"Fascinating." He moved down from your arm towards your fingers, squishing, prodding, rubbing. Your hands tingled in his own as he poked your fingernails. "And these?" He pointed towards them.

"Those are fingernails, they're made of keratin." He nodded, placing your hand down.

"Thank you for allowing me to look at you, lady Y/n." You smiled, waving your hand.

"No problem. Now it's my turn." He lifted his lower arm and extended it towards you. You grab hold, a bit taken aback at the size. His hand could easily fit around your whole face. You rub the warm stone, strumming your fingers along it as you play a rhythmic tune.

Unlike you, he only had 4 fingers, every one of them very large. While your head is down playing with his hand, his 6 eyes gaze upon you. Never did he allow a human he just met to poke and prod at him, so why did he allow you? The moment you had awoken in Toby's house, a scream and a stumble he had expected when you saw him, but he didn't expect you to shake his hand for so long.

He would have sufficed a quick shake and a fearful let go, leaving you in his 'ok' books. But, you just kept staring at him, even now, he feels his heart shake a little as you examine his arm. Standing near him willingly, refusing to leave with Master Jim and the others, but to stay and explore more of his world? Oh dear.

"You know," Your voice snaps him out of his daydream, "even though you're made of stone, you're actually very warm." You note as you caress his arm.

"Ah, yes, rather strange isn't it?" He brings an upper hand of his to his mouth and coughs. He could feel as you trace the engravements on his skin, your fingernails scratching him a little.

"Can I touch your belly?" He sputtered at the question.

"My stomach?" You lift your head, watching as his face contorts into a confused expression.

"I mean, uh- never mind." You release his hand and try to laugh it off. Well, that was embarrassing. You feel your cheeks rise in heat as you look at the ground.

"You may." A soft voice beckons you to look up, staring at the oh-so-kind troll, looking down at you with gentle eyes. You smile, giving a small thank you before moving your hand towards the troll's exposed stomach. Settling your hand on the stone belly, you felt him jolt slightly.

Tracing the engravings upon his skin once more, you lean closer and place your other hand onto him. Your eyes focus on his body, not daring to make eye contact. Whereas, his 6 eyes stared intently down at you. Watching, feeling your every move. He could somewhat feel your breath on his stone skin as well. Although he did find it odd you would want to touch his stomach, it did feel nice.

Your hands caress his body, leaning your face in as you stare into the cracked stone. Wonderous. As you slid your hands up, you went a bit further than you assumed as your hands went upon his chest. "Oh- sorry about that, getting a little handsy heh." You remove your hands and scratch your neck as you mentally slap yourself. Goddammit Y/n. You could feel your cheeks reddening.

He says nothing, so you look up at him. His eyes, half-lidded, staring at you with an unexplainable expression. What is..?

"May I smoosh faces with you?"

"Pardon?" You lower your hand from your neck, head shooting up from his words. Smoosh faces? Wait.. Did he mean kissing? "Do you want to kiss me?" You whisper.

"Yes! That's the word." He nodded.

"Then, yes." You nod, slowly leaning back towards him. He swallowed as you closed your eyes, coming towards him ever so slowly. He pushed his face towards yours, his large lips pressed against yours. His teeth touched your cheeks, but he was careful not to hurt you. 2 of his arms came and clutched onto your shoulders.

Unconsciously pulling you closer towards him, you lifted yourself out of your seat and onto his lap. Lower hands settle onto your waist, holding you close as you continue the kiss. He pulled away first, 6 wide eyes settled upon you.

"That was.." You try and find the word.

"Magnificent." He breathed out. His arms slowly slid up and down your waist, caressing your clothed skin. "May I.. Remove your shirt?" Struck with lust, you nodded, lifting your arms up as he removes your shirt. Discarding the shirt to the floor, he leans in and breaths in your scent.

"Blinky," You whisper in his ear, "take off my pants." You slowly grind against him in his lap, breathing heavily. He aides you in removing your clothing, until your sitting on him with only a bra on. You unclip your bra and toss it to the side, your breasts free from the barrier. Your nipples harden at the cool air, gaining the troll's attention.

He asks for your permission, "Blinky, I wouldn't get naked just so you can't touch me." He removes his upper hands from your shoulders and placed them over your breasts. He experimentally kneads, pushes, and rubs your fat lumps. You softly moan, encouraging him to continue.

"You are very squishy.." He mumbles, softly pinching your nipples. You arch your back, pushing your chest further into him as one of his lower hands moves to support your back. You grab his hand attached to your waist and pull it between your legs.

"Touch me here." You release the stone as he complies, his large fingers fiddling between your folds. He takes experimental rubs into you, finding your clit with your help as you release a loud moan. His hands continue to rub your tits, rubbing your nipples with soft strength.

"O-oh.." You grind into his hand as he rubs your button.

"I'd like to take a closer look, if I may?" He puffs in your ear. You nod, frowning as he removes his hands from your body, only to lift you up and carry you towards a back room. Entering the new room, you see a pile of pillows and blankets littering the floor. He sets you upon them before removing his overalls.

You move a hand between your legs and feel your wetness, circling your clit a few times as you beg for him in your mind. He lays his clothes on the side before returning to your side. Settling his face between your legs, he inhales your scent deeply through his large orange nose. "Human anatomy is rather fascinating up close."

He says it as if he.. You sit up, bumping against his nose before he brings his head up, a confused expression on his face. "Blinky, is this the first time you've done it?"

"Done what?"

"Had sex..?" He smiles at your worried expression. "Cause we can stop if you want to-"

"My dear, this is only the first time I've done anything with your kind. As well, I am positively overjoyed to be with you right now. Rest assured, I want to do this." You exhale and smile, flopping your head back down.

"Well, that's a relief. And I am too, Blinky, really happy to do this with you." You avoid eye contact, your cheeks too flushed to be seen. He returns his head back down, his fingers spreading your lips as he explores you.

He blows air, rubs, licks. As his mouth plays with your outer part, a stone finger gently prods your entrance. Sliding into you with ease, you gasp as you thought how a single digit was so thick. You're having sex with a troll, duh.

Soon enough, with all of his stimulation, you came around his finger. "AhhH~" Crying out, he halts his movements as you come down from your high. He leans up as your thighs twitch, bringing his soaked finger to his mouth before licking.

"Was that alright?"

You panted, holding up a thumbs up. "Amazing." He gave an innocent smile, amusing in the situation that had just occurred. You leaned up, sitting on your butt. "Blinky, so um," You gestured towards his blank pelvis.

"Ah, for me to release my, 'intimacy', I will need to be coaxed open. Protective plates will shift, revealing myself." You nodded, crawling closer towards him as he leaned back, parting his legs. You didn't know exactly what to do, so you started with rubbing the stone. Looking up towards your lover's face, he seemed to like it as his 6 eyes fell half-lidded, staring down at you.

You continued rubbing until what he had said happened, his plates parted, revealing not one, but 3 appendages. The middle, being the largest, whereas the other 2 were shorter. "Ah.. Yes, the middle one is the functioning one, carrying the sperm. The others are for added stimulation." He muttered as your hand softly caressed his cocks.

"So, how do you wanna do this? You lie down or me?" You stroke him as he ponders.

"It is your first time with a troll, so allow me to take command." A breathy voice mutters, hands removing yours from himself as he sets you on your back. "I fear the other way around would have you in pain." He was right, cowgirl position usually gets deeper.

You settle down as he scooches near you, hands ahold of his larger phallus. The smaller ones swirl and wrangle as their placed near your thigh creases. He angles the middle one to your hole, as 2 of his hands grasp your waist. Pushing his hips forwards, he slowly slides in, stretching you no man, or toy had ever done to you.

Your hands find his attached to your skin, grasping onto his hand and signal him to slow down. He does, waiting for you to adjust to his girth. It takes a long while as you wait for the pain to settle as he pushes himself in little by little. After a couple of minutes, you finally have him all inside without any pain. Discomfort? Yes, but nothing you cant handle.

As he pulls out, the first few pushes are testing. Testing your levels and discomfort. Hearing the soft sounds you make as he slowly enters you, he speeds up his thrusts. Rocky digits hold onto your skin, moving upwards towards your breasts as another set comes onto your skin. He leans over you as he rhythmically pounds into you.

His smaller tendrils wiggle and surround your opening, gently prodding your hole. You couldn't dare to fit another one inside, could you? He stares at your form, looking for any signs of pain. "Are you alright so far?" He rolls his hips against you.

"Yes! It feels so good.." You lift your arms and place your hands onto his cheeks. He gives you a toothy smile before returning to the task at hand. Your arms fell to clutch his own around you as he gives a sharp thrust. You moan as he bites his lips.

A deep growl resonated within the bookworm's chest as one of his smaller tendrils slowly pushes its way inside of you. You whine as it snakes its way through your hole, wiggling against your walls. You feel so full. You could feel yourself coming undone, a ball in your stomach forming as he slithers inside of you.

The outer phallus slides up your vulva, towards the top of your lips, finding your little pink button. You squeal as you are overwhelmed with pleasure. He grunts over you, clenching his teeth as he continues to thrust. Wet sounds surrounded the room, the slapping of him against you is the only sound in the room.

You clench down around him, both of his cocks still moving as you release onto them. Soaked in your juices, they glisten in the light as they're pulled from you in mere milliseconds before pounding back inside you. You cry out from the overstimulation, your face contorting into many expressions as your opening's abused by large cocks.

As he nears his end, his chest rumbles as he begins to make curious sounds. Deep throaty rasps, before a loud yelp lets out from his tusked mouth. Hot seed envelopes your insides, soaking your walls. He continues to thrust, riding out his orgasm before he settles down. Pulling out from you, he leans to the side and flops down.

You pant and turn towards him, grabbing onto his hand as he heaves. You both lay in silence, catching your breath from such an exhilarating activity.

#tales of arcadia #trollhunters #blinky #blinkous #blinkous galadrigal #blinkyxreader #blinkousxreader

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chaos-caffeinated · 4 years

Text

Emotions help you remember: Final Draft

Alright everyone, the story got too long to post, so this is the final piece to connect all three. Please enjoy!! It was a pleasure working on this part!

A silver knife was revealed from the black coat, the face hidden in the shadows as he twirled the knife in his hand. Frozen from shock, you stood there with your lips trembling slightly as your voice froze in fear until you felt your foot jolt and you turn to run from the mysterious man behind you. You let go of the coat that were on your shoulders and used the strength you had to run for your life. You cried out in pain as your feet throbbed in the heels you were and the frustration of having such a bulbous dress when a memory flashed in your head: Madam Hopkins had given you insightful information, an additional information regarding the dress she was lending you.

“(Y/N), I want you to take this dress instead of just a dress you typically wear, you should wear something nice, you are a tailor: be one. I shall even grant you this special one I made with my new inventions on it. Just pull on this thread here and it will fall off.”

“Fall off? Madam such a dress could stir controversy-”

“Controversy, controversy, it won’t be long before women will be able to wear this with confidence like moi!~" before she spun after she tore away her skirt to reveal the shorts underneath with the visible garters.

Desperately looking for the thread, you felt your chest compress as you were beginning to tire out. You heard the rapid footsteps before you heard a nearing voice, “As entertaining you were, I must end it already-”

“No!” You cried out before your hand grabbed a handful of your dress and pulled it away desperately. You now felt many chills on your bare legs as the shorts, fitting perfectly against your skin, were exposing you into the cold night and you blushed at the vulnerable position. She had made a replica of her shorts with garters, at first you were confused as to why you felt the garters in place when you first put on the dress.

Blushing a dark red from the vulnerability, your body felt much lighter to move as the skirt flew back, tangling the man’s legs only to cause him to trip over it.

The man was in shock to see the skirt fly back, not even thinking for a second that it was possible before he watched his vision focused from the girl ahead to the dried up leaves and mud. Landing face-first on the ground, he let out a short grunt before he got frustrated, blushing from his embarrassing situation and turned to sit up and using the knife in hand to rip the skirt in pieces. He growled, “Now I will not take you down with ease!” He slammed his knife-bearing fist against the dirt.

“I’m afraid you won’t take anyone for that matter.” A voice rang within the shadows, a mixture of a windy laced with an ominous tone, “Mr. Kindred.”

Flinching from the novel voice, the man on the ground looked around in an attempt to view his next victim, shouting, “Who are you?! Make yourself visible!!”

“My, what a rude guest, tormenting the guest of honor as well as shamelessly ordering around.”

The man on the ground was still looking around before he met with a pair of piercing red eyes, a chill ran down the man’s back, fear entering immediately as he began to drag himself back, “What the hell are you?! Get away from me!”

“And now ordering to step back? What a delusional human you are indeed. However, my young master has ordered me to ensure that you, as well as Miss. (L/N) return back to the manor.”

Dried leaves were crunched as the footsteps got closer, “Unfortunately, I only need one of you alive,” His voice growled towards the end as he appeared out of the shadows in his sharp butler outfit, his shoe stepping over the gravel. It was silent, surprised to see the man on the ground watching the butler walk out of the shadows and his eyes were back to the dark eyes of his.

This is what his victims must’ve felt, unease, nothingness, but also knowing that everything will stop. Every woman he killed and dismembered were all pleading for their life hopelessly, knowing very well they were going to die for his sadistic pleasure. He felt chill after chill from his presence and he opened his mouth to say something only to stutter or mouth words.

Fear...that is what he felt, fear of a being stronger than him. Fear of losing control.

“Oh...cat got your tongue?” The butler taunted as he leaned forward slightly, “You seemed very sure of yourself that you would get away from yet another merciless murder tonight in my master’s grounds. However, as the Head Butler of the Phantomhive Manor, I can not allow that to happen...for you see, I am one hell of a butler.”

Gripping the knife in his hand, Mr. Kindred had the realization that he had the weapon in his hand, something to fight as his expression slowly began to change, “You have nothing, butler...nothing! I at least ha-” He raised up to slash at him only for a ripping and broken sound was heard ahead of him. It seemed so slow as he saw his own arm twisted horribly, body instinctively cringing and screaming out in agony as he fell back onto the ground.

“A pesky knife. I know what you’re feeling...hopelessness, a rush- not a kind one either- controlling your whole body as the idea that I can take your life-” he snapped his fingers before flashing his teeth, startling the man below him.

“Like that...and you don’t like that idea because all this time you believed you were much stronger...simply slashing women's throats...while I can do...so...”

He inched closer and closer to the shaking man below him, the dangerous smirk plastered on the demon’s face, his eyes shifting to his fuchsia color, “much worse than you humans can even grasp.” The air around shifted, a weight so immense you could die of suffocation. The man flinched when he saw from his peripheral feathers falling through. He looked up once again at the demon only for him to be covered completely by the falling feathers. The amount of fear possessed by a single man, scarred forever at the interaction.

The agonized screams traveled far and beyond, but not even the hypnotizing music can break free the audience’s attention, but one.

The screams reached to your ears no doubt, only pushing you further and further away into the deep forest.

Sebastian remained in the position for a second before huffing, “What a mess indeed-...” He glanced to the side, only for his eyes to widen at the skirt you were earlier in the ball entangled between the man’s legs. His eyebrows quirked, “Is she...?” He asked himself, placing a finger over his chin, before his smirk became more mischievous, releasing a chuckle as he removed the skirt, “Miss. Hopkins, you have aimed to surprise me even without your presence.”

You panted desperately, leaning against a tree. You tried covering your mouth, you shook in place as you tried to get smaller to not be spotted. tears streamed down your cheeks as shook. Having not realize that absence of the murder, your mind raced images, and the mere fact that he could be taunting you by making you believe you were safe was terrifying enough. Your eyes wandered in many places, side to side, up and down, any clues that he was nearby. You didn’t even know how far you were from the manor, to get to Ciel, to get to Sebastian-

“My, my, has mon chaton lost herself in the woods? What a pity indeed.” A sound so soothing, and calming with a tinge of mystery wrapped around it like a bouquet. You thought you had gone mad, to need him so much that you envisioned him rescuing you. His voice alone calmed your essence, yet your eyes aimed towards the source. You yelped and jumped up, running a few steps before turning to face body. Anything and everything kept you edge, even if you were unarmed, you were willing to even use a stick to once again distract him.

Sebastian, once again, appeared from the shadows under the light from the moon, lightly smirking towards you with his arms raised slightly in defense. In his right hand, however, he was holding a bunched-up skirt, “Everything is alright, my lady, your assailant is no longer in the premise. It has been handled.”

You gulped, still shaking from the anxiety, “N-no, he is still here-”

“If he was, this skirt would have been deemed useless as a capturing device.” He took a few steps forward, “Which I very much recommend wearing, my dear. It’s not only cold outside, but you are improper at the moment.” He guided your emotions into a calm one, “I promise you, my lady, no one is here other than you and I.” He reached out his hand, awaiting for yours.

Hesitating, but trusting him, you raised your shaky hand on top of his hand, “...I could have died...” you commented.

“But you did not, my dear. For as long as I am by your side, you will never go through that.” He raised your hand towards his lips to place a kiss before slowly helping you back into the skirt, “There. You look as wonderful as before. Now then, shall we go back?”

You took another shaky step before you yelped from the sudden rush of Sebastian lifting you in his arms, “You are still unsure, so I will carry you, my lady while you rest up. Do leave your concerns with me, I will be by your side for the rest of the night if that helps reassure you.”

You nodded slightly, confirming as you pressed against him, “Please...Sebastian.”

He smirked slightly at you as he proceeded forward to the mansion.

With you standing next to the earl himself, and Sebastian by your side, most of the guests could not help but glance towards your way. You noticed some women responded ill with their eyes, someone commenting to the person beside them about you as they walk by, and you could not help but sigh deeply, “...I believe I feel better...I must retire to my room now. I do not want to continue spoiling the party.” You were saddened to have to see the party end so soon, already stepping away when you heard the same voice that managed to wrap around your essence speak.

“But my lady, I seem to recall you wanted to have at least one dance?” Sebastian asked, turning halfway to meet your eyes.

You looked downwards with a sad look, “I did..but...it just... feels off now with what occurred...”

Now it was Ciel’s turn to speak, “He has been arrested quietly, (Y/N)…his presence will no longer disturb your moment of happiness.” He stared at the ball before he slightly turned to you with a small smirk, not of arrogance, and not of confidence, it was a soft, gentle one, “Do not let an opportunity pass by like that. Enjoy it wile you can.”

You stared at the earl for a few seconds before your eyes trailed off, thinking of your choices, “...Yes, Lord Phantomhive.” Then you walked towards Sebastian, surprising him the slightest at your upfront being, “Sebastian. I would like to have my dance with you.”

Sebastian was slightly surprised, but at the same time he was not. Smirking softly, he tried changing your mind, “But my lady, I am simply a butler, there are multiple chaperons whom would enjoy to dance with you.”

Feeling the slight confidence to smile softly at him, you responded, “Lord Phantomhive said not waste the moment, and it is you who I do not want to waste the opportunity to dance with.”

Ciel smirked at your quick-thinking, glancing at your incoming strength as he viewed his butler look slightly surprised, yet accepting. He watched as Sebastian, now smiling softly, bowed slightly with his hand over his chest, “Very well then, my lady,” he offered his hand in the same position as he raised his crimson red eyes to yours, “It would be an honor to have this dance with you.”

As he guided you onto the dance floor with a few other couples dancing to the music, you sensed something change within the musicians. As a matter of fact, you sensed the atmosphere change with the strand that the lead violin was stroking.

You both stood in front of each other, feeling his hand gently place on your hip and the other awaiting for your hand. It was then you felt the sparks, the tingling sensations he sent over, the way your body responded to his touch, triggering memories from earlier. You blushed, your cheeks tinted softly with a red shade as you place your hand on his.

The room was silent for a few seconds before-

youtube

Voom-Ba-bum, Voom-Ba-bum, Voom-Ba-bum, Voom-Ba-bum...

The way the violins and cello captured the way your heart was pounding loud in your ears was extraordinary because as soon as it started, the more it became evident of how much he had influenced you: he completely corrupted you for himself. The way Sebastian lead their dance in a perfect unison, despite you never learning the dance before surprised you even. He swayed with the notes in the air, the violins carving a path and him following it, or could it be the other way around? It was all so warming, enveloping your body as a whole to the rhythm of the strokes before you listened to the next part with your heart. You looked up to see his gorgeous, captivating eyes once more before you felt yourself weaker, and weaker, and weaker-

(Ba-bum, ba-bum, ba-bum)

The way he approached his head near yours while moving was enticing, you needed him close to you, your body needed him-

“My lady, I must say, as we dance so close together...I cannot stop envisioning our ‘studies’...” He smirked softly as he squeezed your hip ever so softly. His grip tightened when he heard you gasp softly, trying to regain as much strength needed, “...P-please...not here.” your voice trembled. You were weak enough that any word he let out would not help your situation.

As the music rose in speed and volume, you heard him chuckle, “You remember so well, mon chaton... as expected from my favorite student. I must admit, that even your being has captured me in a way that I never thought would have such an effect...your skin, your hands, your body...the way you begged for me without raising your voice, the way you gasped, the way you moaned...you will never cease to exist in my being...even your bite I will remember very well. Your markings truly changed me...” he whispered.

You whimpered softly, mentally begging him to stop, the images overwhelming you in a state of steam. You were embarrassed, your cheeks tinted ever so dark, once again you can hear your heart pound, but this time it grew louder and louder, beginning to deafening you until you tried biting back with his own medicine, “And what about you...” you chest heaved slightly, the heat radiating from you, “The way you took me without mercy, your weakness and your strength becoming one. The way you felt me like I was your life source, the woman that marked you as hers. The way you clawed me as a desperate need to get ahold of, it all penetrated my thoughts. And for that I blame you Sebastian Michaelis.”

As your list grew, Sebastian’s fascination towards you more and more, internally smiling and breathing deeply. The way you handled yourself with his words was truly amazing. You tried to get at him with his own words, and though it did not work, the effort was there. His own heart pounded, and he refuses, at full, to leave your side.

The music around them rose in tempo once again, the rhythm beating identical to their heart soundings. Neither wanting to leave the other. The want, the yearn, the desperation, the urge was lingering closer and closer and they could not do a single thing. Inching closer and closer to their lips nearly locking, the music ended. They did not make it, yet they remained like that, Sebastian first to react as he smirked and let out a chuckle, “You have done a certain type of damage in me, my lady.” He blushed slightly as he panted ever so slightly.

Panting as well, you responded as quickly, “And you as well...diable.”

Sebastian sucked in air, ready for a comeback when he stood back, bowed, and stood back up, “Well done, my lady. Would you like another dance, or would you like to take a small rest?”

“...No...I think I will retire.” you spoke, but Sebastian capturing the truth behind those words, “Goodnight, Sebastian.” You took both sides of the skirt and bowed slightly before heading to your room.

Subtly, but effectively, Sebastian was able to mask biting inside of his cheek, “Goodnight, my lady. I shall return to you.”

You simply smiled small at him before leaving from the ball.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~

Sebastian had dismissed the guests along with Ciel, his behavior seemed rushed, with each wording having no charisma he usually portrays with many. Some men could understand why, holding a smirk with a tinge of jealousy, but the women saddened from the shortened conversations. It felt so quick, and Ciel noticed as they stepped inside the manor, “I’m guessing this has to do with (Y/N)? You were rather quick to dismiss the guests.”

“I do apologize my lord, but she did make a request of my presence.” He justified, “She said she was not feeling well.”

Ciel suspected for a different reason, but he understood why you would be shaken, “Very well. Do so after I’ve retired.”

“Yes, my lord.” he guided him to his chambers before helping him to his bed.

Meanwhile, you rested in the tub of hot water, sighing with content as you rested your head against the tub, your hands feeling your skin, each giving you a flashback of your affair.

His hot, full lips pressed against yours in a passionate kiss, his dominating groan as he pressed your body close to his.

The flashback ended abruptly as you heard a knock on the door, “My lady?”

Blushing, aside from the temperature, you answered, “Come in.”

The door opened, and coming in was the butler himself you imagined not even ten seconds ago, “From the unfortunate events earlier, I brought you some tea to calm your nerves. How are you feeling?” He asked, closing the door afterwards with a hand, the other holding the tray with great balance.

You took another deep breath, swaying the water in front of you, “I’m feeling better now.” You smiled small, “I am just...focusing on the water...” your voice went softer and softer, your eyes feeling heavier as your body, feeling safe, decided to rest up.

Sebastian gently opened the door to the bathroom to see you close your eyes and he smiled subtly, “I am glad to hear that, my lady. Shall I finish you up and help you to your bed?”

“Mm...no...are you currently free at the moment, Sebastian?” You asked, opening your eyes to meet him with a soft smile.

“My duties have been completed, my lady. I am all yours tonight...” He reciprocated the smile, creating butterflies in your stomach.

“Then,” you rose in a sitting position, your arms crossing over your chest as you leaned forward slightly, “Come join me in the tub please. It’s still hot.” You invited him, “Nothing ever beats a hot bath.”

Eyes widening from the invitation, he rose his fist, the side of his finger covering his lips as he chuckled lightly, “Not even the studies, my lady?”

Blushing already, you simply remained silent as you gently patted the water.

“Your generosity overwhelms me, my lady.” He turned slowly before proceeding to remove the articles from his body. You even shamelessly watched as he removed his clothes.

“Staring is an improper thing to do as a lady.” He teased without turning.

“Mmm...then at this moment I am but a simple being enjoying a wonderful view. I might even reconsider this being better than a hot tub.” You teased back.

“I feel ashamed for not fixing anything about that mouth of yours.” He remarked with a smirk, turning his body to you as he took your chin between his fingers, lifting it in the process. He purposely tilted your head to make eye contact, to make you feel weak in front of him, but you bit back like always.

“I would have enjoyed it, Sebastian...but right now...” you say to increase the anticipation, raising your wet hand to place on his abdomen, only to caress his lean muscles, “I just want to relax...and you are perfect for that need.”

“I am honored to serve you in this way.” His lips slightly part, “Let us begin.”

It felt heavenly, it felt sublime, it felt like a happiness that you have yearn for so long, the missing puzzle to your day-to-day life. You wished to remain in his arms, those strong arms, the ones placed on your sides, resting on your skin. Those same arms that have caused damage, but in such a pleasurable way. You let out a breathy sigh as his fingers brushed against the bruises that were prominent over your body, reminders of his attempt of corruption.

You leaned your head back against his shoulder, tilting your head to the side slightly before arching your back. His heat, his presence alone made you want to back out what you said earlier and take him head-on, but for once your mind had different plans.

Sebastian smirked as his hands lightly brushed against your skins, occasionally massaging some parts of your breasts, “If you allow me, my lady, a massage is a suitable, don’t you agree?” He placed his hands on your shoulders, kneading the trapezius. The stiffness in your shoulder caused you to yelp from surprised, the pain threw you off, yet you concentrated on the kneading. The way he pressed harder on a few places than everywhere, making you groan softly made it pleasing.

“My, my. You have a lot of knots, you really must have worked so hard, Lady (Y/N). Working day in and out to please your Madame. You remind me of the essence of a butler, and for that I highly place my respect for you.”

You rested the side of your head on his shoulder, interrupting his massage. His words, his gentle words. Though he may not see it, the fact that he managed to to pull flashbacks forward to you made you numb, and silent. Each event that occurred, the passion that sparked to initiate your education with Madame Hopkins. Madame Hopkins is a savior, a savior that brought you onto your feet once more. The extra thing you needed in your life, her ability to see new when everyone else got stuck in the past. You enjoyed it enough to be a part of it.

Sebastian was surprised to see an extremely soft side, he was not used to the sudden change of heart, to see you so quiet, so vulnerable. His raised his hand behind your head, inching closer and closer to your hair as he smirked with confidence before he stopped.

He felt the cold breeze before feeling drips, his crimson eyes following the path to your teary eyes, “Crying, my lady?” he maneuvered his hand to wipe your tears off, “Has today really brought so many emotions to your eyes?”

You sobbed, “No...Sebastian.” You raised your face to see him eye-to-eye, facing him with your tears, pride enveloping you, “Sebastian, weakness is not shown in the act of crying, is the act of developing.”

Remaining silent from the impressive resilience you possess, he stared at you with such a surprise look on his face. His hand cupped your chin subconsciously, holding it in place for a couple seconds before pulling you in.

As your lips connect, the chills stored send to each other’s body, surprising the demon butler all in all at the immense amount of influence from a single human. How does one human like her possess such power in hand, then he remembers just then:

“crying...is the act of developing.”

His appetite increased tremendously as his master further his goal, but for something that you would say, something was emphasized, and that emphasis he made loud and clear. His kiss deepened, his arms holding you closer and closer to him. His high regard he held for you has overwhelmed him at the slightest, and that brought concern to his being.

“Her soul...I want her soul...”

You pulled away at the slightest, only for Sebastian to pull forward reveled the realization which forced him to back down.

“And I thank you, Sebastian. Without you, I would not have realized just how much my memories mean to me; the ability to remember so much. So with that, I really thank you, Sebastian Michaelis.”

You picked yourself up, the water dripping from your body as you were careful to get out, “Feel free to use the tub, please. Don’t let my absence rush you.”

You took the towel and wrapped around your body before walking back to the room to select your night gown.

When the door close, the lonely demon butler stood in his sitting position with his head tilted downwards, bangs covering his face. His lips were parted in a emotionless rest, and yet...he slowly rose back to his usual self. His smirk penetrated the still room, the water flowing around his body dropped in temperature. His raised his hand up to his face before rubbing downwards, chuckling darkly, “Oh, My lady (Y/N), you truly possess a soul so exquisite, so divine...” He eyes, so dark, and so filled with the hatred shifted into his instincts, possessing those bold fuchsia eyes.

Fin

~~ ~~ ~~ ~

AHHHHHH I FINISHED! I feel so satisfied with this piece, so much so I cannot believe that I wrote so much. I also did so much when I used so little, I wonder if you can figure it out (mueeheheh). Anyways, I would like to thank you all for reading, for taking this time to be part of this adventure, to leave your comments, and your sharing. I appreciate that with all my heart.

That being said, I have to say adieu, and HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!!!~~

#kuroshitsuji #kuroshitsuji smut #sebastian michaelis #sebastian michaelis xreader #Sebastian Michaelis smut #Sebastian michaelis x reader smut #Black Butler #black butler smut #kuroshitsuji nsft #Black Butler nsft #Sebastian Michaelis nsft #kuroshitsuji sebastian

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princessofguineapigs · 4 years

Text

A Nice Cactus | Sam Holland

@jules24com: Hi was wondering if you could make a image for sam holland and how the reader is a little younger like 2 years or so and their familys are very close. The reader likes sam but he rejects her and she kinda acts differently and off when seeing them but ends in fluff? Thank you ! Love your writing

“I shouldn’t have told him,” you said to Harry. “I’m so stupid.”

“Okay, first off, you’re not stupid. I’m proud of you for shooting your shot,” Harry said. “But hey, until you move on, we’ll get you a plant.”

“A plant? That’s more pathetic than being a cat-lady.”

“C’mon. We’ll find you a nice cactus.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Alright, let’s just go back to my house,” Harry said. “My parents are making a great dinner with the help of you-know-who.”

“You can say his name, Har. Just because I humiliated myself doesn’t mean things have to change,” you said.

“Here I thought I’d have to disown my twin,” Harry said.

“Ha ha.”

You made it back to the house where the rest of the family was already preparing the food. Even Paddy had been put to work stirring something.

“Hey, Y/N! Are you hungry?” Sam asked.

“Um, I guess so,” you answered.

Sam gave you a strange look, but didn’t say anything more. Normally, you would join him in the kitchen, doing more dancing than cooking, but having a good time. Now, you looked down at your shoes, unable to even converse with him. You tried to make yourself look busy and grabbed the plates to set the table. You ate together frequently, but this would be the first time since your confession.

Something just felt strange about the whole situation. You were a woman scorned, eating dinner with the family of the man who rejected you. Harry came over carrying glasses of water. “Try to act normal. My parents have no idea what happened,” he said.

“Like I can be normal. I’m mortified.”

“Don’t be. Sam’s still your friend.”

“That’s the problem,” you said. “I risked it all and he’s acting like nothing has changed. Like I didn’t just put it all on the line.”

“Nothing has changed, Y/N.”

You pouted. “I wanted it to.”

“I know.”

The meal dragged and you hardly spoke a word. Most of the evening you stared at the wall, not bothering to engage with the Holland family. You were losing your mind over this heartbreak.

“Do you know, Y/N?” Dom asked.

Uh-oh. You hadn’t been paying attention. You couldn’t begin to guess what the question was about.

“Excuse me,” you said, standing up. “I think I need some air.” Breathing had suddenly become a monumental task. You stood up from the table, nearly knocked over your chair and ran out the front door.

Once outside, you sat down on the steps leading up the the home. You heard someone follow behind you, but didn’t turn around, assuming it was Harry.

“Y/N?” not Harry’s voice said. It startled you and you jumped. “Are you alright?” Sam asked.

You shook your head silently. Sam sat down beside you. He didn’t say anything more for a moment and then--

“March 4th,” Sam said.

“What?” you asked.

“March 4th, the day I met you. The anniversary of our friendship you could say. Do you remember that day?”

You nodded. “You were hanging upside down on the monkey bars at the park.”

“And you said--”

“I said ‘If you stay upside down like that, all the blood will run to your head and it will swell and burst like a balloon.’ You believed me too.”

Sam laughed. “I’d never climbed down faster.” You looked at him at last. “We spent the whole rest of the day together,” you said. “I’d never made a friend so fast.”

There was a pause.

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry, for yesterday,” Sam said. He looked out toward where the sun was setting. “I was a jerk.”

“Hey, you have nothing to be sorry for. I told you how I felt and made you feel awkward and you didn’t feel the same way. You don’t have to apologize for not loving me,” you said. You felt your eyes brim with unwanted tears and turned away. Sam put both hands on your shoulders and forced you to face him. The sun was still sinking, but you couldn’t see it with your blurred vision. You didn’t even notice that a tear had escaped until Sam wiped it away with his thumb.

Your vision was still hazy, but you willed yourself not to lose any more tears.

“Y/N, I’m not apologizing for not loving you. I’m apologizing for letting you think that I don’t love you. Because I do. I really do.”

“You-you love me?” you asked. You thought maybe he was just being nice, but as you gazed into his eyes, deep into the mirrors of his pupils and saw yourself reflected, you knew he was telling the truth. “Why did you tell me you didn’t like me like that?”

“Because I was scared,” Sam said. “I was scared of letting myself get hurt, but now I know that’s a risk I’m willing to take if it means loving you openly. I’m sorry for making you think I didn’t want you.”

“Just make sure I know it from now on,” you said.

“I will. I swear,” he said.

You laid your head on his shoulder. “You’re much better than a cactus,” you said.

“What?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

taglist: @wonderfulfluffer @osterfieldshollandgirl @chrisosterfield

#sam holland #sam holland x reader #sam holland imagine

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slippinmickeys · 4 years

Photo

I will be posting the first three chapters today and then two chapters a day (one in the am and one in the pm) for the next five days.

You can also read on AO3 here.

CHAPTER ONE

He rolled his head on the pillow and was rewarded with a noseful of soft lavender-scented hair. It tickled him enough that he awoke completely, sniffing to consciousness with a feeling of patent unfamiliarity.

He lightly brushed the hair away from his face and opened his eyes to find that he was in a strange bed in a foreign room. It took him a moment to remember that he’d fallen asleep in the countess’s chambers. Scully’s chambers. His wife.

So it hadn’t been a delicious dream, after all; they had married the day before.

There was light coming in behind the thick curtains of the room and a small cloche-covered tray had been set on a table in the sitting area. There were a couple of modest trunks set just inside the door -- Scully’s personal effects, no doubt. The servants were up and about, then. When he really looked, the quality of the light suggested it was nearly late morning.

He tended to keep country hours when he was at Henwick Priory, the family estate in Sussex, but opted for later hours when he was in Town. The Season was in full swing and the aristocratic set woke up late and went to bed later.

He was naked under the bed’s thick coverings, and a quick peek confirmed that Scully still was as well.

She was curled onto her side, facing away from him, the soft slope of her back arcing into the smooth, rounded shape of the two globes that formed her perfect bottom. He felt his manhood stir to life looking at her.

As if sensing she was being observed, he watched her slowly come awake as well, rolling onto her back and stretching, cat-like, her toes pointing down as her arms raised over her head. Mulder let the covers fall gently back down.

Her eyes fluttered open and she turned her head, pinning him with her sapphire stare. He smiled at her and she returned it, her grin shy, yet pert; a hint of licentiousness curling up her cheek.

“Good morning,” he said, and after a brief moment decided to lean in for a soft kiss.

“Mmm,” she said, as he returned to his own pillow, “good morning.”

His cock, which had been in a lazy state of partial-arousal since he’d swept his eyes down the length of his wife’s backside, had come fully to life when his lips made contact with hers.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked politely, trying to ignore the part of his body that was reaching for her without any regard to civility.

“Very,” she said and smiled, turning towards him, the satin sheet slipping down to reveal the hint of a curved breast. Damn his eyes, they slid down to look of their own volition. He had to shake himself.

“And how are you feeling this morning?” he asked, pausing briefly before finishing with “Are you very… sore?”

He was not as experienced as his rakish reputation made him out to be, and his previous sexual encounters -- as few as there had been -- had been with much more experienced women. He had never before bedded a virgin.

“No,” she said thoughtfully, “I feel… a bit tender, but have no pain. Honestly, it feels most similar to the morning after a very long day of riding.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her and she smiled, no doubt realizing what she’d said.

“And no wonder,” she said with a laugh.

He chuckled with her and leaned in again to steal another kiss.

“I’m glad to hear it.” When he leaned back he nodded toward the tray on the table nearby and said, “There is some refreshment, if you wish for me to serve you?”

She shook her head and stretched again.

“I don’t believe I wish to leave this bed,” she said, and he felt his pulse beat in his cock.

“Stay all day if you wish it,” he said. “Unfortunately, I have some business to attend to -- the speed of our nuptials did not permit me to clear my schedule as I would have liked. You deserve a honeymoon, but I’m afraid today you’ll have to settle for an afternoon drive through Hyde Park. That is, assuming you wish to spend time with me as ardently as I wish to spend it with you.”

She reached over and ran a hand down his face, the scratch of his morning beard catching a bit on the skin of her hand.

“I would like nothing more.” She sat up, leaning on her elbows, and the sheet slid down her form, just shy of revealing her perfect, pink nipples. “I do wonder if I have anything fitting to wear for a drive. Have my trunks arrived?”

“I believe so,” he said, and when she turned back to him he was certain she saw the raw want on his face.

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips.

“When is your first appointment?” she asked, and let the sheet covering her fall just a little bit more.

He reached for her in answer, and she fell atop him with a startled breath, the long silk of her auburn hair falling down to fan along his shoulder and arm. He ran the backs of his fingers up her side, just grazing them along the outer curve of her breast, and she leaned down and captured his lips with hers, her enthusiasm more than making up for her lack of experience.

After a long bout of kissing, he flipped her expertly and began tonguing his way down her body. Her legs fell open as he descended and he smiled into her skin. He would not have blamed her if she were shy or prudish -- young ladies were raised from the cradle to place their sexual virtue above almost anything else, and years of that kind of thinking were sure to impart an austerity that could be difficult to overcome -- but Scully seemed to embrace the marital bed and the carnality that could come with it. He was a lucky, lucky man.

She gave a breathy sigh when he ran his tongue up her seam, her sex already dewy with want. She tasted sweet, with a honeyed tang he had already committed to memory. He laved at her, rubbing his erection with one hand, as sexually excited as a stripling. He honed in on the swollen nub at her crest, and it did not take long before she started breathing harder, her crisis imminent.

He encouraged her with muffled words and finally she broke, her hips surging up into his mouth, a cry on her lips. He licked at her gently until she settled and then moved up and laid his head next to her on the pillow.

“You’re beautiful when you come,” he said, searching her face. She was a rare beauty. He’d wondered, after he’d met her two nights ago in that garden, if it were merely the magic of the moonlight and the setting that had captured him so -- that had compelled him to offer her her first kiss and so set into motion the wheels of fate that had brought them here. But no. Her face was exquisite even here in the dim light of her chamber. A composition not even a master could better on canvas.

“Is that what they call it?” she said and he nodded mutely, running a light finger up the center of her torso until it found her chin, which he turned toward himself for a kiss.

“The French call it le petit mort,” he mumbled into her lips.

“The little death?” she said, smiling into his lips. “Oh, I like that.”

So did he. He would not press himself upon her this morning, he’d decided. He was certain that even though she’d insisted that she was not in pain, another assault so quickly on such tender flesh would surely do more harm than good. He had resigned himself to a morning of discomfort when he felt her light touch on his stomach, her hands moving over him slowly but surely.

“It feels good when you touch me,” she said, “does it feel good when I touch you?”

He swallowed hard and nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“Show me how,” she said, and he reached down and grabbed her hand, guiding it to where he wanted it most. When he pressed her fingers around his aching cock and showed her best how to stroke him, he felt his eyes roll back into his head. She was a quick study and seemed to almost intuit what he liked best, so it was not long before he reached out and put a hand on her arm.

“Stand back,” he panted, though she was not standing, “I am… close.”

But she did not move, and instead began pumping him with even more enthusiasm until he threw his head back, giving up the ghost. On a wave of ecstasy, he felt himself spurting hotly into her hand, and she made a noise, though it was one of surprise rather than revulsion, for which he would be thankful when his faculties finally returned to him.

“Fascinating,” she said after a moment.

Spent, he took a deep breath and turned to her, cocking his head in question.

She was sitting up, propping herself up on one arm, her long hair over her shoulders, the sweet buds of her nipples peeking out from in between the glossy strands.

“We spoke of science, and my interest in it,” she clarified, looking at him, “I find the mechanics of the act of copulation most intriguing.”

He smiled at her. “Should you form any hypotheses that might need testing, I’m more than eager to assist you in proving any theories,” he said, and she gave him the smile of a minx.

XxXxXxXxXxX

“My apologies,” he said shortly as he strode into his study. Mr. Flynn, his solicitor, was sitting in the chair across from his desk, looking bored.

Flynn waved a hand dismissively in the air. “I charge you by the hour, my lord,” he said. “What you do with that time is at your discretion.”

Mulder sat, willing himself not to go pink thinking about how he’d just spent his discretionary time.

“Did you have time to go over the marriage contract?” Mulder asked.

“Yes,” Flynn said, “a footman brought it to my office first thing this morning.”

Mulder nodded and the lawyer leveled a look at him.

“You were… most generous to your new wife’s family, my lord,” he said.

It was Mulder’s turn to wave a dismissive hand. “Is it otherwise in order?” he asked.

“Yes,” Flynn said, and Mulder nodded at him.

At that moment a maid came in carrying a tea tray, which she took her time setting up on the small table in the middle of the room.

Mulder flashed a look at her, and then one to Flynn.

“And on the other matters?” he asked.

Flynn sat up straight and cleared his throat, also darting a look to the maid, who was humming quietly to herself.

“Yes,” Flynn said, “I have been looking into both. On the first, I have been able to find no evidence to back up the gentleman’s claims. No debts are on record at any bank or other institution. I have even gone so far as to check wager books at White’s and some of the other clubs. Nothing.”

Mulder leaned back in his chair, and the maid finally curtsied and made her way out of the room.

“It is difficult to find evidence of something that likely doesn’t exist,” he said with a sigh.

“Quite,” Flynn replied.

“Nevertheless,” Mulder said, “keep looking.”

“Indeed,” said the man. “Now, on the second matter…” He reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope with an aged patina. On its front was scrawled a large black X. Flynn rose to his feet and handed it to Mulder. “In this case, I’ve also discovered nothing. However, it is a delicate matter, the inquiry of which requires both skill and discretion. It may be time to hire an investigative firm?”

Mulder sighed heavily, and set the envelope on his desk. “I’m afraid you may be right, Flynn.” His words were a dismissal.

Flynn shook Mulder’s hand briefly, giving him a curt nod.

When the door closed behind him, Mulder sat back down at his desk, shooting a troubled look at the envelope sitting in the middle of it, the large ‘X’ upon it as damning as a pirate’s Black Spot.

#The X-Files #Fanfic #AU #Regency #The Countess #The Earl #My Fic

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sabraeal · 3 years

Text

The Most Perverse Creature in the World, Chapter 11

[Read on AO3]

You had been concerned this evening-- no, that was too mild a description to contain how you waited outside the castle gate, alone and shrouded beneath the anonymity of your black lacquer. It had been anxiety that plagued you, every inch of skin alive and shivering with your nerves. You trusted Obi implicitly-- he had given you no reason to not these past weeks. Despite the reputation that recommended him for this business--whatever it was-- his behavior at the bawd house reminded you less of an unrepentant rake and more of a small boy made to sit and do sums in the summer.

But even so, your ladies had placed their trust in you. They had little choice; a woman of ill repute would be laughed out of the council, branded a greedy whore, but you--

Well, you were a widow above reproach. A countess in your own right, no matter what scandal brought you the title. Where their words would sink like oil in water, yours would rise as air, right into the upper echelons of the court, perhaps even into the king’s ears themselves. That didn’t mean that they’d listen to them, but yours at least had opportunity, whereas theirs--

Theirs would be laughed at, ridiculed for daring to speak above their station. You held their hopes in your hands, and to ask them to trust a new man, sight unseen, vetted only by the prince’s messenger felt like a favor too far.

It was good then, that as large as this Sir Lowen might be, he had all the gentleness of a princess from the pages of a storybook; the sort that might see animals eating out of his cupped palms, should he offer them. The instant he squeezed into your carriage, an apologetic dark shadow, your fears had eased, steady with the knowledge that the girls would be like kittens in his hands.

Your instincts were correct; hardly a breath has passed since he entered the boudoir, and already your ladies are eating out of them. Or perhaps, more accurately, trying to entice him to eat out of theirs.

Tsubaki may have spoken first, but it’s Himawari who stands closest. She uses every inch of leverage it gives her as she saunters closer, raking Sir Lowen with a speculative gaze that leaves no doubt as to what she’s measuring.

“Sorry, petal,” Himawari purrs, placing a finger right on his sternum. “But I’ll be handling this one.”

“That’s not fair,” Tsubaki whines. “Kikyo, tell her that’s not fair.”

“I...” Kikyo’s mouth works, and she tears her gaze off the prince’s aide with a flush. “I don’t think milady brought him here for any of that business.”

“Aw, come on now.” Himawari’s wide mouth breaks out into a wider smile, the sort canaries might see before they flew to the great coop in the sky. “It’d be a pity to waste milady’s coin.”

If skin could burn then Sir Lowen would be a bonfire. “P-please, ladies, I’m not here for anything like that!”

“I changed my mind.” Himawari turns a hard, thoughtful look on him. “I’d let this one handle me.”

“Well,” Obi drawls, having entirely too much fun, “now there’s some high praise.”

Sir Lowen shoots him a dubious glare. “Is it?”

“Well, none of them have ever offered to handle me on milady’s dime,” Obi informs him, mouth twitching at the corner. “You must have a certain...I don’t know what.”

“A third leg?” Tsubaki offers, quickly shushed by Kikyo.

“Please,” Himawari snorts. “Milady couldn’t pay me enough to put up with you.”

Obi presses a hand to his chest, scandalized. “I’ll have you know I’m a very generous--”

“You’re a pain in the ass,” she informs him. “You say you want to be handled, but there’s not a pair here you’d trust to do it. You couldn’t take a direction if it was dipped in gold and had your name carved in it.”

At once, the shy maiden melts away from Sir Lowen, replaced with a grin so satisfied and familiar you wonder which face it came from first-- Obi, or this man.

“Why, Obi,” he says, deceptively friendly. “I didn’t know you were taking me to a palm reader.”

Obi huffs, chin tilting up and arms folding tight across his chest. “I don’t think she’s interested in your palms, mister.”

Himawari’s brow tics, speculative. “Depends on where he plans on putting them.”

“I wasn’t--” Sir Lowen’s high ground turns to quicksand beneath his feet-- “I only meant--”

“If you are all quite finished bothering Sir Lowen,” you inform them, ignoring Himawari’s gleeful ‘hardly’-- “we have very little time left if we do not wish to squander the opportunity his name has afforded us.”

Kikyo bounces to her feet, leaving an empty space on the bed. “Ah, right. Sir Lowen, if you wouldn’t mind...”

He coughs, the red on his skin appearing uniquely painful. “I couldn’t...not...ah...”

“Oh!” Her fingers flicker in the air, all nerves. “Ah, then, perhaps this chair? If that would suit?”

“It would,” he allows graciously, the tension in his shoulders finally deflating. “I’ll just...stay here for the evening. I guess.”

“Don’t feel like you have to, sir,” Tsubaki purrs, rolling onto her back. “There’s plenty of room here on the bed.”

“There certainly will be, when I kick you off of it,” Himawari replied, leaping over to tweak the girl’s cheek. “No room for little girls while the adults are, hmm, talking.”

“The chair is fine!” he yelps, availing himself of it pointedly. “There! Hardly...hardly any different than a night in the palace!”

Obi’s lips give a dangerous twitch. “Well, I’m sure these ladies could change that if you only--”

“Obi.” You may not have had any child of your body, but you have raised a boy just the same; you know the precise octave in which one may raise their voice and insinuate trouble. He jolts at the sound of it, eyes rounding to innocence. “If you would...”

“Ah, right.” His shoulders hunch as he slinks toward you, a cat scolded but entirely unrepentant. “Well, mister, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Sir Lowen’s head snaps up, eyes wide and white as he catches the open door. “Obi! You can’t--”

A large hand presses to your spine, scurrying you through it. Obi leans back, head poking through the gap. “Enjoy yourselves, ladies.”

“Obi--!” The door snicks shut behind him.

You frown, glancing at the door behind him. “Are you sure you two are friends?”

“The most bosom companions.” His teeth flash white in the hall’s dim. “Now let’s go see to your entertainment for the evening, my lady.”

You have never had reason to stray long in the brothel’s halls; Obi usually sees to it that your trip involves only the briefest stint through the back stairs, quickly and quietly depositing you in a room within moments of your arrival. So as your eyes adjust to the bare light, you cannot help but stare.

“Stripes?” Your fingers rise to trace the paper. It’s hard to make out their color in the dim, but you squint anyway, shuffling close enough for your slippers to brush the wainscoting. “Green stripes?”

“Well, not everything can be hand-painted cocks and balls.”

You nearly laugh, only tamping down when you see how his eyes have bulged, how stiffly he’s standing before you. Obi hadn’t meant to let that gem slip from his lips.

“Of course not,” you say, deceptively mild. Behind your veil, Obi can’t see your lips twitch. “I’d expect there to be quite a few cunts as well.”

You may restrain your laugh, but Obi doesn’t, a wheeze bursting from his lips. “My lady...”

It’s not until his shoulders ease, body hanging with its usual boneless grace, that you realize how tense he’s been. After that little scene in Tsubaki’s chamber, you half expected him to be prancing through the halls, giddy as a schoolboy he hung yet another of his bosom companions out to twist in the wind. But instead he’s...nervous.

“Obi.” His name hoists itself through the air with the heft of a feather, but he flinches nonetheless. “Is something wrong?”

His mouth opens, but closes just as quick, mouth curving in a rueful grin. “I wonder...”

You nearly call out to him again, his name right at the edge of your lips, but Obi’s voice startles you instead. “Come on, my lady, it’s this way.”

The door he stops at must be the one-- who else would have delicate violets painted in clusters along the jamb?-- and he hesitates once more, hand poised just above the knotless wood.

Gold eyes cast you one last long look, but you cannot read the message in it. There is too much regret, too much pity, too much of everything, and you would ask, you would take your gloved hand and hold him back, but--

You’re too late. His knuckles fall, a sharp rap, and suddenly he’s the Obi you expected to see once more, grin spread too wide on his angular face, the shadows clinging to him as if he might disappear if you took your eyes from him.

“Custom’s here,” he calls out gruffly, the perfect imitation of one of the brothel’s bouncers. Quieter, he turns to you, door creaking open as he says, “Good luck, my lady.”

You shore yourself up, becoming the implacable widow behind a facade of bombazine. “Let’s hope I don’t need it.”

This is not what you expect from a prostitute’s boudoir.

Gauzy rose curtains flutter between whitewashed posts, stirred by the door’s closing. They match the ones over the windows, a massive bank of glass settled over a seat meant to sit two, buried in pink striped cushions. The knobs on the vanity gleam golden, matching the subtly shimmering vines on the wallpaper, interrupted only by sprays of violets and roses.

It’s a child’s room; the very same you might see for a beloved daughter among your set. Save for the flowers, it could quite practically have been your own before you left it for your marriage bed.

Your hands clench where they hang knitted before you. Perhaps that is...part of the fantasy. Just as Himawari’s room is done in dark woods and deep hues to match the tastes of her clients, this might be much the same. A girl who catered to the illicitness of making love in a lover’s childhood room-- or, you cannot help but think, one that might be bound to do a man’s bidding, like a child might.

“Oh sir.” A pale shadow moves behind the curtain, as delicate as the voice that slips through the gauze. It’s a soft one, high-pitched and sweet, a part played to the hilt. “I’ve been so excited to meet you.”

You startle, heels bumping back into the door. You’d braced for confrontation, not seduction; even if this Sumire has never once seen a glimpse of Sir Lowen, there is no conceivable way that she could mistake a window in her weeds as the prince’s foremost aide. But thin as these curtains are, she can see just as much of you as you can see her-- nothing above a vague impression of color and shape.

It is not to last. Slender fingers slide through the seams, pushing the cloth aside. “I do hope you’ll take care of--”

A sweet face peers out between the curtains, chestnut hair pinned back and curled just like a little girl’s-- because that’s what she is. By her size, her proportions-- if she’s had her courses, she can count them but months, not years. Fourteen, at the most. At the least--

Your mind refuses to speculate. How can it, when all that fills it is an angry buzz, as harsh as the cicadas in summer. You had thought Tsubaki young, but this, this...

Her full mouth crumples into a child’s pout. “You aren’t Sir Lowen at all.”

And a good thing, too. Gentle as that man may be, you doubt he would take this with any sort of subtlety. “No. You may call me Countess Bederin.”

Those large eyes go wide, rounding until you can see white around the iris. “B-bederin?”

Your mouth curls. “I see my reputation precedes me. I suspect the girls have spoken about me.”

The girl-- Sumire, the madam’s favorite flower, sniffs, her coltish limbs folding over her. “They don’t need to tell me anything. I know all about you.”

It has been years since you’ve had a child in your home, but you recognize the prideful hook of that mouth. Less they don’t need to tell me anything, then, and more they wouldn’t tell me anything, even if I asked.

She settles back on her heels, eyeing you askance. “You’re the widow that comes around here to talk about, ah...?”

“Taxes, mostly,” you admit. “Working conditions as well. May I have a seat?”

With all the primness and pretension of a lord’s daughter, Sumire draws her spine straight, seating herself at the edge of the bed with ankles crossed. She would look every inch a girl born to it if it weren’t for her sullen pout-- or her negligee, one strap slowly slipping down her shoulder. “If you must.”

“I don’t,” you assure her. You’re not so old that standing for the duration of this conversation would harm you. “I would prefer to be invited, rather than impose.”

Her eyes widen before she drops them down, giving a begrudging nod. “Fine then. Over there. But you should know I don’t have any complaints.”

Her hand juts out; you follow its line to an overstuffed chair tucked in a corner. It’s pink as well, though not striped, its velvet worn bald in places. Your nurse had a similar one-- no, you had a similar one in your old room, a big wing-backed monument you’d climbed as a small thing, right into her lap until you got too big for it, then up the back itself. That is, until you’d fallen from the top and knocked the wind clean out of your chest. You’d taken your stories from the floor, after that, leaning your head against her knee as her finger stroked through your hair.

Your jaw sets as you sink into its cushioned depths. This furniture might share a shape, but you doubt Sumire has experienced the same sweet memories.

“Of course,” you manage through your teeth, “but that is valuable information as well. I am looking for as complete a picture as I can create when I make my recommendation to His Majesty.”

It’s an overstatement of your power to be sure-- the only time His Majesty would hear your opinions would be shortly before they were torn to shreds by the teeth of the council-- but it has the desired effect. Sumire’s small chest puffs, chin tilting up, eyes sparkling. You’ve made her important. No, you’ve made her words important.

“I should tell the madam you’re here,” she says, words crisp, threat idle. “So she can throw you right out for...for...ah...sedition.”

That would require the brothel to be a country and the madam its head of state-- a metaphor that might work if it did not require you to also live within it as well. Still, it was a poor point to quibble with a child, not when a girl like her could never afford to spurn a lady who has a king’s ear. At least, not when she could dream of putting herself in his bed. This was all a bit of theater, a way for her to cast the illusion of an equal field.

It is ground you can afford to cede. “You might. Or you might allow me to have your ear first, before you decide. The choice is yours.”

Sumire’s small feet still against the footboard, her body stiff and still with a hungry kind of wariness. You doubt she has ever been given such a choice before, paltry as it is.

“Very well.” Her voice takes on the clipped cadence of the upper crust; an affectation to your ear, but a good one. She’s been trained, at least, the streets scrubbed clean from her vowels. “Though there’s not a thing you could offer me that the madam won’t give if I ask.”

Besides a childhood, you don’t say.

“I’m not here to make any offer,” you tell her, as gentle as you are able. “Only to be a listening ear.”

Her head cocks, a sparrow offered seeds from a strange hand. “What do you mean?”

You stifle a smile; even if she cannot see it through the veil, she’ll hear it in your voice. Still-- she’s taken the bait, even if she hasn’t hopped up into your fingers. “My purpose is not to propose, but to listen. There is a proposal among the lords that would require all those engaging in acts considered...superfluous to the point of procreation for money to pay a certain extra consideration to the crown.”

Sumire blinks. “What’s that all mean?”

“They want to tax you for every act of sexual congress that does not involve, ah--” you flounder for the words; she may be a professional, but she is also a child, and oh, Obi might have teased you for asking, but he’d certainly have ideas-- “the insertion of a man’s member into your, hm...”

Secret garden, your nurse would have said, but that seems too pale, too flowery--

“Cunt?” she offers, so innocent, as if there were no other word.

“Yes.” Were the madam to stand before you now, you could choke the very life from her and feel no guilt. “Quite.”

Her small face rumples, wrinkled up in thought. “So if I let a john take me on hands and knees, would that cost extra too? Or only if he’s got his cock outside my--”

“Ah!” It had been too much to hear this from Tsubaki’s mouth, but an actual child’s is far, far worse. “Yes. I am afraid that anything that is not with a man top and a woman beneath--”

“But I am--”

“-- And, ah, facing him,” you add, hurriedly. “Any of it would be considered a...lewd act, subject to the tax.”

Sumire doesn’t speak, not at first; instead she merely sits with the knowledge, shadows rolling across her face in intervals.

“Well,” she decides, finally. “The madam handles all that for me. So I need not worry about any of this business.”

Frustration could grind your teeth to stubs, but you take in a breath, let it out. She would hardly be the first woman to place her trust in fiscal matters where it did not belong. Too many of your own acquaintance would say the same of their accounts; what use was it to balance books or be money-minded when their fathers, their brothers, their husbands all took care of such things. As long as there was enough credit to draw at the modiste, a woman needed no notion of how it came to be.

That had not been the education your father gave you-- you and your brothers alike learned to keep ledgers. It had been your cramped hand that wrote in Bederin’s, yours that tallied columns that no longer came to sums you could account for.

You cannot blame a woman for wanting to keep herself innocent of the things men might do, when they only amounted to numbers in the end.

“May I ask,” you begin, sliding your pencil from its place in your notebook’s binding. “What is the percentage the madam takes from your earnings?”

Sumire stares. “What do you mean?”

“The madam takes a cut of your earnings, does she not?” Your fingers tighten painfully around your pencil; it takes effort to ease it. “Part of your keep. For room and board and her private business. Do you know how much it is?”

She was always a child, but suddenly Sumire seems quite small indeed. “No, the madam...handles all my money.”

The lead pauses on your page. “Do you see any of it?”

“I...” Her brow furrows, doubt seeping into the shadows of her face. “She gives me pocket money. From my accounts. She says she puts it all away for me until I’m older.”

You have known plenty of young ladies with the same story. Your father had been of the old school where a woman took care of a manor’s accounts while its lord saw to its improvement-- but that philosophy was unpopular among men of the court. A good, obedient wife never handled any of their allowance; they merely took what their lord husband gave them for pin-money and never questioned its amount. That is, of course, until their creditors came. Even a title could only protect so far.

“Do you know the amount she takes from the other girls?” you ask, knowing full well the answer. “Perhaps we can extrapolate from there. Make an estimate,” you clarify, seeing confusion cloud her face.

“No,” she sniffs. “They don’t tell me anything. They’re jealous.”

There is some truth to that perhaps; Tsubaki certainly acts as though they are rivals for a mother’s love even if she hates the parent in question, and Himawari has made no secret that she doesn’t appreciate the pomp and circumstance around the search for Sumire’s custom. But still, it’s not the whole of it, though to say so would certainly fall upon deaf ears.

“You know,” you hum, setting your pencil back in its binding. “We want to have a larger meeting. One where the girls voice all their ideas. Where we can begin to see what needs should be met, should I bring a counter proposal before the council.”

Her mouth curves into a frown. “The madam won’t like that. She won’t let you do it.”

Your heart flutters in your chest, an anxious tattoo that rattles in your ears as you say, “That’s why we don’t plan to tell her.”

Sumire’s face takes on a petulant cast. “What if I did? Then you all couldn’t. Madam would like that.”

“You could,” you admit. “But if you came to it, perhaps you might know better what the madam keeps for you.”

From you, you mean, but you doubt she’s ready for that conversation. Not right now, when the idea of betrayal is so new.

The temptation is clear on her face, but curiosity shutters tight behind pride. “No one would want me there. They don’t like me.”

“I would want you there.” You set aside your notebook, letting nothing come between you but your veil. “I think you have important things to contribute.”

Her eyes widen, but only for a moment. The next she shakes her head, tossing her curls proudly. “I could still tell the madam, even if I go.”

“I trust you.” You want to at least, but she’s so young, and the madam is her world. Her protector and abuser both.

“The others won’t.”

“That may be,” you agree, “but it only takes one to convince others. I’ll be the first.”

Sumire eyes you warily, both dubious and hopeful, and you wish there was some way you could prove it, some way you could give her the assurance every child deserves. You drop your eyes to your lap, veil pooling on your hands--

And you do. Your fingers trace the lace edge, and it’s with an exaggerated motion that you lift it, the breeze from the widow caressing your bare cheeks.

Sumire’s jaw falls slack. “Why...” It closes as she leans closer, surprise etched in every plane of her face. “You aren’t ugly at all, miss.”

That’s not quite the reaction you expected. “Ah...thank you. I suppose.”

She hesitates, then gives you a quick, pained nod. “I’ll come. But I don’t promise I’ll keep quiet after.”

“I could expect no less,” you murmur, veiling your smile once more. “We all have to do what’s best, don’t we?”

You leave the room more troubled than you entered, but lighter somehow still.

“Did what needs doing?” Obi asks, levering himself out of the shadows.

“Not yet.” Your mouth stretches into a determined line. “But I’ll see it’s done.”

#haruka x reader #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #AT LAST I AM THROUGH THIS PORTION #next chapter should actually see the return of Haruka #and BELLIGERENT FLIRTING #ball is in your court now joanna >:3c

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erikavixin2006 · 3 years

Text

Adrienette Family Au!

The sunlight escaped into the blinds, forcing a certain bluenette to stir in her sleep from the light. She rubbed her eyes to lift her heavy eyelids, slight dark circles under her eyes indicated that she was up late on her fashion designs for the company that she worked for.

Finally forcing her eyes open, bluebell meets forest green, and the woman found herself face to face with one very much awake Adrien Agreste, staring back at her with the same look of love and adoration ever since they got together.

'Were you staring at me while I was sleeping?' Marinette spoke before yawning, wrapping her arms around his neck and snuggling closer to him, wanting more of his warmth on the cold Sunday morning.

She felt Adrien caressing her hair, peppering soft kisses onto her hair. Sighing contently, she closed her eyes, enjoying her morning with her husband, her kitty. 'It's hard to not look away when I have such a gorgeous being in my arms,' he spoke, and Marinette swore she could see a kitty tail flicking behind him.

Marinette groaned, 'It's too early for your flattery mon chaton,' , Adrien merely chuckled, pulling her small body towards his, ' You love me anyways milady, otherwise you wouldn't be taking this stray cat and feed him with delicious sweet pastries,' he rubbed his nose with hers.

The spotted heroine giggled, 'Yes, and this stray cat got his lady pregnant with three kittens who look just like their daddy,' , as the words left Marinette's lips Adrien felt a flutter in his heart.

Three kittens.

Their kittens.

His lady had given him everything, he didn't think he deserved it, but Marinette assured him, and had given him the world, including three little ones that resemble both him and her.

Adrien reached down, pressing soft kisses to her lips, Gosh, he's addicted to those soft lips, when a crash startled them both, jolting the husband and wife from their morning moment.

'They shouldn't be awake this early? ' Marinette sat up worriedly, 'Sounds like they'e in the kitchen, maybe they're hungry?' after years of being Chat Noir it certainly had increased his senses overtime.

Rushing down the stairs of their house, they reached the kitchen, where they are greeted by the sight of a messy kitchen with three little bundles of joy swatting kitchen ingredients at each other, giggling at laughing and obviously unaware of their parents' horrified expressions.

'Emma, Louis, Hugo Agreste! What are you three doing?!' Marinette yelled at the three children, whose eyes have gone wide upon the arrival of their parents.

'Mom! Dad! We were just...making you breakfast!' Emma, the oldest out of the three spoke, wiping her face clean from flour. Marinette crouched down, wiping five year old Louis's face from cocoa powder, 'I appreciate the thoughtfulness sweetie but you shouldn't be in the kitchen alone, you could've gotten hurt,' Emma stared at her mother with her big kitty green eyes that she inherited from her father, and Marinette momentarily cursed at Adrien for it.

Hugo, the middle child, piped up, 'But Mama! Big sis was just showing me and Louis how to make pancakes and hot cocoa! It was fun!' he jumped up and down, his blue hair covered in flour from his place next to his little brother.

'Next time if you want to make us breakfast, make sure to tell us and we can help you with it, the kitchen is way to dangerous for you guys,' the heroine lifted a giggling Louis into her arms, giving soft eyes towards her two older children.

Emma, feeling a little self conscious under her mother's gaze, and being a daddy's little princess, she ran towards her father, grabbing onto his leg. Adrien smiled, 'Hey, maybe we can make breakfast together, and once you learn all the recipes, you can cook for us one day, I'm sure we'll love it, won't we bugaboo?' he looked towards his wife.

Marinette sighed, 'I'm sorry sweethearts, I'm a little worried, but sure, we can make breakfast together, after we clean up this mess okay?' she popped Louis into her husband's arms and picked up her apron from the cabinets, tying it around her waist.

Emma and Hugo giggled in reply and cleaned themselves up with the wet towel given to them by Adrien, who is cleaning up Louis with another towel, the family then begun to make breakfast together, a typical Agreste family morning.

(and I just realized I forgot to place in the hamster!!!)

#miraculous ladybug fandom #mlb #ml fandom #miraculous ladybug #emma #louis #hugo #adrien #marinette #agreste family #adrienette #ladynoir #marichat #ladrien #ml

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alrunemara · 4 years

Text

Perpendicular

Warnings: NSFW/18+: Explicit/vivid imagery— reader discretion is advised.All characters & Ikemen Sengoku owned by Cybird Description: Kyubei and MC (You!) finally find a way to each other. This was inspired by a beautiful work of art done by my most sweet friend Rui. Her Tumblr can be found here: Work By Rui Art links are under the cut:

The art that spoke to me is here: My Favorite Vassal And the NSFW version is here: Holy Cats

Part 1: Parallel

Only one more day of traveling and they would be back in Azuchi. They had shared stories, laughter and comfortable silence. He looked down at the woman who now napped, her head gently upon his chest. Sleeping without a care in the world. He knew there was another inn they would happen upon soon, and he decided that now was as good time as any to stop so he could get some rest before the final stretch to get home. He pulled on the reins to stop the horse in front of the doors of the inn and looked down at MC. “My lady? I hate to wake you, but we must stop for awhile.”

Sleepy eyes fluttered open from the woman before abruptly sitting up. She blinked and took in the unfamiliar surroundings. “I guess I fell asleep. Are we very close to home?”

His soft smile and quiet voice affirmed that they were close, but that both the horse and he needed to rest after being on the path for hours. The door to the inn slid open and a youthful boy bounded out. After introductions, Kyubei helped MC off the horse, and handed the reins over to have the horse taken care of while the pair went inside. “I only have one room left,” the innkeeper said, bowing apologetically.

“That’s fine. We’ll take it,” brazenly the HC haired woman spoke before she innocently looked up at the man who was stunned into silence.

Handing over coin, the pair followed the innkeeper to a room in the middle of the inn. “My lady, if you’ll allow me to check everything out first please.” He slid the door open and stepped inside to do a thorough check of the room. Satisfied, he drew back the door and gestured to HC. “It’s safe Princess.”

She stepped into the room and looked around and noted that the bedding was folded in the corner. MC crossed the room and picked it up when a knock interrupted the quiet. The innkeeper announced she had brought tea, as Kyubei opened the door to humbly accept the tray, MC set out the bedding.

“Oh let me please!” MC sat across the dark-haired man as he set the tray down. She gracefully poured him a cup and handed it to him before serving herself. “It’s the least I can do for you.” The refreshing liquid warmed her, and she closed her eyes, savoring the taste. “Princess, I take it you like the tea?” Her face blushed pink as EC orbs flew open and Kyubei’s met hers with a smile. MC put her cup down and gestured to the futon, “Yes. I want you to go ahead and sleep. I’ve had a nap, so I’m not even tired. There’s still light out, so I’ll probably read one of the books I see in the corner over there. I can wake you when dinner is served.”

“Oh but my lady, I really shouldn’t-“

“You should and you will. You’re exhausted. I promise I won’t leave this room while you are here. Think of it as me guarding you as you sleep for once.”

He eyed her carefully, not wanting to put her in the position of having to guard him. It was such a foreign concept: someone looking out for him, especially since he was so used to being the one doing the protecting. But they did stop so he could rest, and his body was begging him to do so. Slowly, he nodded his head. “Alright, my lady. But I am going to keep my sword at my side just in case.”

He didn’t undress, nor did he lay on the futon, but beside it. Understandably she was confused and looked at him as she held one of the books in her hand. “I want you to be able to rest comfortably on a clean futon tonight, Princess. I will be fine here.” He turned over and slept then, his sword perched next to his frame. MC took the book and silently crossed the room to be closer to the light.

There she stayed, lost in the book and to time, when a very soft knock came to the door, startling her from her page. Silently, she crossed the room, slid the door open and accepted the tray. After the door shut behind her, she set it down and looked over the simple meal. She looked to the Kyubei, who had stirred out of his slumber and sat up. “Princess?”

“Behind you, Kyubei. Come eat.” MC poured the fresh tea into a cup and offered it to him, and then poured her own. They ate in silence, a comfort to them both, occasionally catching each other’s eyes, with MC blushing and looking to her bowl of rice. Night fell, and she looked at the futon, suddenly self-conscious of the situation. Sensing her apprehensiveness, Kyubei excused himself to do a check of the perimeter of the inn. MC knew he partly did this as a courtesy to her. Dressing down to her yukata, she slipped under the blanket and pulled it to her chin. The silence was deafening. She was uncomfortable being alone when she was always comfortable before. What is this? She wondered. Was it because of this instance of him having to accompany her to the festival? Or was it the number of times she shared in his company? She wasn’t sure. She only knew the room was smaller and dimmer without him in it.

Her thoughts led to when she watched him sleep earlier. Her eyes peeked over the book, and saw his hair gathered over his neck, spilling onto the floor. She wanted to comb her fingers through the dark locks. To caress his cheek. To run her fingers down his chest. Tempting thoughts sent signals tingling through her body, and her hands sought to grab onto a breast while the other parted her yukata to push against the sensitivity of her pearl. A gasp and a moan lifted from her lips, and she drew her thighs tight to attempt to stave off the want of pleasure. Yet she could not hold herself back as she pushed and rubbed her finger lightly over herself, exhaling, while the blanket rubbed along her skin

The shoji slid open, and inside stepped Kyubei. As the screen shut, he watched the lady, tucked into the futon, move her legs slowly, the blanket crawling with the outline of her. He needed to leave. He was interrupting. He turned-

“Kyubei,” her breathy voice broke the air. “Please, I need… you.”

His head swiveled, and his eyes caught hers. The desperation written on her face and the hand reaching out to him was all he needed. This woman he fantasized about called out to him. Mesmerized, he reached out and took her hand, pulling her to sit up. He brought his large hands tenderly to her face. He studied her, his thumbs running over the smoothness of her cheeks. He leaned towards her and touched his lips to hers. Gentle, yet urgently, he touched his tongue between her lips, coaxing them to open for him. MC obliged Kyubei, a moan muffled by their kiss.

She pulled away first. Reflections of him swam in her pools of vision. She brought her hand up to his hair and paused. Boldly, she slowly weaved her fingers into the darkness of it, her eyes flitting from his and to her hand while his finger trailed along her jawline. Pausing, he took her chin in his hand tilting her head toward him. "I apologize my dear lady, but I could not help myself." Eyes glazed over with lust, she gave no answer, instead taking his hand into hers kissing along his fingers and gently wrapping her tongue around one and brought it into her mouth. The erotic act made him hiss. MC smiled to hear his satisfaction.

Slipping his finger from her tongue, his warm hand took ahold of the back of her head and tilted it, while the other tugged on the lady’s yukata to bear her shoulder. His warm lips tenderly kissed just under her earlobe and down to linger on her collarbone, sending an uncontrollable shiver down her spine. “Ah!”

She hungrily pulled at his haori. Kyubei pulled back with a chuckle and swiftly removed the clothing that constrained him. He has the smile of a thousand suns, MC thought as she delicately traced her fingers along the hardened muscles of his torso. She felt the sensation of her yukata’s sash being untied. The rough pads of his fingers traced the ivory cream of her shoulders and down her arms, the yukata slipping off.

He took the time to look at her. Disrobed, she gleamed in the light of the lantern. He felt the shiver of her frame when his hand weaved down her chest. Featherlight touches of both hands traced the outlines of her breasts, rolling over each pink peak. Kyubei felt her body jerk towards him. He looked at her face, cheeks hot, half lidded eyes with want, and her mouth. Pouty and begging.

His lips, soft as petals, kissed the silk of her skin. His tongue found solace and he suckled her. Purring from the sensation, she tangled her hands into his hair, passionately holding him close. His arms enveloped her; warm, strong, and just as needy. His fingers caught the other bud of her bosom, gently pinching it before capturing it in between his teeth. MC threw her head back, hissing a curse under her breath. She felt him smile against her.

Arms released from around her suddenly and his hands met with each side of her face. He moved her head so she faced him. “My lady MC? Is this something you want? Are you certain?” He had to see the answer on her face, hear it from her lips. He watched her nod and heard her whisper. “Yes.” He kissed her slowly and drew her tongue out of hiding to engage him.

MC felt strong arms around her once more, this time, slowly lowering her to the futon, her HC hair splaying across the futon, spilling onto the tatami mat. She looked up to see him hovering over her. A hand reached up and untied his hair, allowing a dark waterfall to shield their faces from the rest of the world. The lady traced her fingers over his collarbone to his shoulders. Were they always this broad? She tenderly touched where his skin held scars. She felt his hand snake down her body, caressing her in a slow, agonizing manner. His knee shifted between her legs, his fingers teased her inner thigh, and she opened up to him.

He could feel her heat emanating. Delicately, Kyubei grazed his fingers along the swell of her and dipped his fingers inside. Her gasp broke the night air. Slowly, he moved his hand, and was met with an impatient thrust of her hips. She shuddered in delight as two more fingers slowly dived inside her. His quickening pace made the woman under him writhe. The pad of his thumb delicately, but rapidly circled her pearl. He felt her hands grasp at him in desperation as her mewling quickly became moans of bliss.

“K-Kyubei, I’m going to---” He felt her squeeze around his fingers and continued to thrust to allow her to ride out her euphoria. Removing his hand, he languidly sucked her sweetness dripping down his hand as she rubbed her thighs together. He looked to see her free hand journeying toward her center.

He gently took her wrist and smiled at her. His low voice whispered, “Princess, allow me to give myself over to you.” Watching her slowly nod, he released her wrist and sat up on his knees to settle himself between her legs. His tip rubbed against the glistening wet heat of her, teasing them both. With a moan, he guided himself slowly, inch by inch, inside.

Her breath hitched as he entered, and she relaxed under him the more he filled her. Ever the gentleman, he gave her time to adjust before he moved against her. The pleasure of feeling him inside was almost unbearable. She bucked herself against him, spurring him to drive into her with quicker thrusts. He watched as she squirmed with delight, eyes shut tight, grabbing the futon in a feeble attempt to keep herself grounded.

She felt a hand trail down her skin. MC opened her eyes and felt an electrifying shock as his thumb gently caressed her bud. MC cried out his name, her hand reaching out to grasp his shoulders to pull him down to her, boldly kissing him as his thumb fondled her relentlessly. Wrapping her legs around him, she panted, “Harder, Kyubei, please! I need you!”

Lifting her hips in hunger, he slammed against her, sweat beading down his body and onto her. He became primal then, digging his fingers into the flesh of her hips, taking pride in hearing the hoarseness of her moans.

“I’m c-coming!” Her grip landed on his back, digging her nails in, causing him to hiss. MC’s legs snaked around him, holding him tight against her.

He too felt his release approaching as he felt her walls constrict around him. Covered in perspiration, he thrust into her one final time, an audible affirmation sealing his satisfaction. Exhausted, he collapsed on her, his hair falling over her face, the only sound was their ragged breathing

Kyubei lifted his head and smiled down at the woman under him. “My princess…

She placed her hot hands on his cheeks and brought his forehead to her lips. “I love you too,” the lady whispered.

Untangling their bodies, they pulled the blanket over their cooling skin, and held each other until they had no choice but to wake up with the sun.

#ikemen sengoku #kyubei x reader #shortfics #ikemen smut #ikesen x reader

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melodramandmemes · 3 years

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Not sure tbh

There’s something quite riveting about listening to Cardi B in the parking lot of a Catholic church. Somehow some series of events led me to this point in my life, to listening to Cardi B in a church parking lot, a Catholic church parking lot. I try to imagine what life might be like two thousand years ago as I stare into the stone eyes of Mother Mary and bite the head off another sour patch kid. Did Mary Magdalene have a wet-ass pussy? Is that where the Catholics get their holy water? I laugh at the thought accompanied with an image of me playing cards with the devil. Fuck religion. I’m here for a wedding, anyway. The next few hours are unbearable, hearing the deacon’s repeated microaggressions of what marriage should and shouldn’t be; comments on divorce before the groom’s stepparents; little things here and there, slipping in his two cents veiled by the oh-so-nice-religious-leader schtick. I think I might pass out. Suddenly I’m hugging the bride goodbye and am back in my car–not in the parking lot of a Catholic church; this one’s for bail bonds. Everything’s going by so quickly; I feel like two seconds ago I was sitting on the dusty linoleum of a second grade classroom waiting for the summer school bus, and now I’m sitting at a blinking red intersection in dusty blue chiffon, waiting for the reality to sink in that I was just a bridesmaid in my college roommate’s wedding. Nothing’s the same anymore–although I guess that’s a good thing. But it’s hard to be a good thing when your illusion of normalcy and routine are stripped away. Now I have no idea who I am. Who am I anyway? The second I got in my car I ripped the wig off my head, dug out the septum ring I had flipped up into my nose, and now I’m driving around at eleven o’clock at night in spanx and a vaguely sacreligious potato sack of a shirt. My blinker flickers green on-off, on-off, and I’m still at the intersection. The red and green flickering reminds me of Christmas; I reach to turn down the AC. Back to driving. I did a pretty good job, pretending to be good at socializing, making small talk, saying all the right things in all the right places–at least, I thought I did. Now that I think about it I’m pretty sure I missed some things, but I could tell that one lady didn’t really like me anyway so it’s not like I could help that. I’m quiet now. Usually I’m full of so many things to say to myself in the car but it’s so late and I’m so tired. Every turn comes as a surprise and I take some of them a bit too fast, startling me to reality–or really I guess just consciousness. I’m not sure reality even exists anymore. I just do whatever I want and there’s no one there to stop me. Except, I don’t do whatever I want, because what I want to do is have a concrete sense of self and the motivation and energy to accomplish everyday tasks and then some. I take medication for that but all it does is make it hard to cry. I nearly cried at the wedding a few times, but I never actually got there. I wish I would have; I really wanted to. I miss the way things were. I mean I don’t, but I do. I’m so alone these days, even when I’m surrounded by people. I don’t feel the same. But I’m not sure how I ever felt in the first place.

My gas light’s on.

I’m a little more awake now as I pull up to a pump, at least I’m very aware of the number of girls who’ve been robbed or stabbed or cat-called or picked up or trafficked while pumping gas at night. I’m not wearing a bra. I wrap my arms around my chest and begin to read the pump. It said 2.58 on the sign but regular unleaded’s 2.64. When did they invent two other types of gas? Fuel flex? 2.15? Fuckers. It ends up taking me nearly forty dollars and slice of my sanity before I screw on the gas cap and slam the door. I don’t even understand. I didn’t ask to be here. I didn’t ask to be born or learn to drive or be involved in this capitalist hellscape. Why do I have to be involved with this? All I want is a nice tall glass of serotonin, two shots of dopamine, and a piece of peace; shaken, not stirred. I crank the knob to my stereo and start screaming. The gas station two blocks down says 2.57. I scream some more. Nothing at all makes sense and I have no choice but to laugh. And then I scream some more. “Fuck you, fuck me, fuck everyone!” I say. Why not? Why shouldn’t I fuck literally everything in the ass? God’s a cruel motherfucker and if that doesn’t say it all, well I won’t be the one to break it to you he’s into power play. Kinky. Our God, who art in heaven, Daddy be thy name. I can’t stifle my hysteria, I’m rolling. It’s fitting, some kind of cruel cosmic joke, that my consciousness was placed into a brain that doesn’t work right, in a family of conservatives. I guess it could be worse, I could be starving in Africa. Why is it always Africa? I guess they don’t want to think of starving as something that’s happening in their backyards; like they’re not on food stamps and church food drives. That’s a cosmic joke too–The Church preventing my starvation as a child. If God isn’t the funniest man alive, I don’t know what he is. Oh wait, he isn’t. Anything, I mean. Maybe that’s the reason I turned away from The Church, because if God’s a man, there isn’t anything a lesbian hates more than men. It could be that, or the years of gaslighting, guilt, and manipulation. It’s hard to tell, really. Oh, and there’s my apartment.

Goodnight, Sabrina.

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musingsofsaturn · 4 years

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Opening Up [Kristanna ‘Waitress’ AU] - Chapter One

[Masterlist for this fic]

Fandom: Frozen/Frozen II

Ship: Anna/Kristoff

Side Pairings: Anna/Hans, Elsa/Honeymaren, Bulda/Cliff

Chapters: 10/10 [COMPLETE]

Rating: M

This Chapter’s Rating: T for bad language

This Chapter’s Word Count: 1,700+

Summary: Waitress and baker Anna Westergaard's life changed forever when she discovered some startling news. Dr Kristoff Bjorgman didn't anticipate liking his new patients quite as much as he did. For better or worse, the residents of the small town of Småby Bend were about to be changed forever.

[Photo taken from Jenna’s Pie Palace. This chapter’s recipe is Blueberry Bacon Pie. (Or just blueberry if you’re veggie like me.) Bon appetit!]

Småby Bend was a small town of little significance to everyone apart from its residence. It had a charming market square which hosted a farmers’ market on Wednesday mornings, neat residential streets that were cited as being ‘perfect for raising a family’, and one small train station with a train running twice a day to the nearest city. It seemed like everybody knew everyone else, though nobody was really paying attention to each other. Time moved slower in Småby Bend; it wasn’t the fast-paced town for commuters and rat-racers. It was the steady home of routine mundanity.

Just to the west of the market square, nestled in between a book shop and a pharmacy, sat The Snøffnug Café. It had stood in the same spot for fifty years, and would be there for fifty more. The owner, Cliff, was known for being grouchy and stern – his wife had died twenty years earlier and he hadn’t been the same since. As an ex-army man, Cliff ran a tight ship; the schedules for his staff were specific and he expected punctuality, his stock was always carefully managed, and he valued the reputation the café had for serving the best cup of coffee to the East the North Mountain.

While Cliff didn’t give a wonderful first impression, the people who worked for him understood his ways. The anxious Elsa thrived on routine and organisation anyway, so the sweet-natured woman was in her element at The Snøffnug Café (although her eye did begin to twitch nervously if Cliff started to yell). Bulda was an outgoing and high-spirited woman, a mother hen to her friends and customers, who was quick with a sassy remark to her boss that somehow never overstepped the line. And then there was Anna.

There was the ghost of a confident, bubbly girl in Anna. She was known to many, but very few people could consider themselves her friend. Her exterior was reserved and collected, but those who knew her well recognised the swirling depths of the thoughts she was lost in. Everyone in Småby Bend knew her reputation for being the best baker for miles, and her talent for flavour combinations and perfect techniques drew in daily customers to the café.

In the early afternoon of a cloudy Tuesday, Anna was tucked safely in the kitchen of The Snøffnug Café, kneading some dough as a bubbling pot of blueberries cooked on the stove. Her hands worked feverishly, pressing the dough hard into the workbench, pulling it back in on itself, before pushing it back down with force. Outside of the kitchen, there was the background noise that Anna was well accustomed to; the chatter of customers, the whirring of the coffee grinder, the bell above the door chiming as someone entered or left.

In her peripheral vision, Anna noticed the slight frame of Elsa as she walked in and started to prepare a grilled cheese for one of her customers.

“Ooh, what’s today’s pie, then?” Elsa inquired lightly.

“Blueberry-Bacon,” Anna replied. “I wanted to make something sweet and familiar, with a bit of a surprise hidden in it.”

“Sounds amazing – save me a slice when it’s done!” Anna affirmed that she would, and the two women worked in silence for a few moments. “Anna, what did that pie dough do to you?”

Anna ceased her actions. “What?”

“Well, it- You’re treating it like you saw it kick a puppy.” She offered Anna a gentle smile, and Anna huffed quietly as she turned back to the lump of dough on the workbench. “Did you see it kick a puppy?”

“No,” Anna sighed. “I’m just worried. And angry, and sad, and confused, and-”

She trailed off, and Elsa placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Overwhelmed?” she offered, and Anna nodded. “Anna, listen to me, it’s going to be okay. Whether you are, or you aren’t, we’re here to support you, and you are going to be able to do the best thing for you. This not knowing isn’t helpful though.”

“I know.”

Elsa neatly flipped the grilled cheese in the pan, confirming that it was perfectly golden brown on each side. “Which is why Bulda went to the pharmacy and picked you up a test on her lunch break.”

“Yeah… Wait, what? Elsa, I don’t want-”

“Well, I’d better go serve this up!” Elsa interrupted her friend, picking up the plate and hastily exiting with her customer’s grilled cheese. “See you later, alligator!”

Resigned, Anna almost went back to kneading the dough, before remembering Elsa’s comment and deciding it had had enough. Lost in thought, she carefully stirred the blueberries on the stove, before tasting them and adding a couple of drops of vanilla extract. After giving the pot another quick stir, she tasted again. Perfect.

As she set off a couple of strips of bacon sizzling on a skillet, Anna’s thoughts continued to race. Her hand went to her stomach as she thought she could almost sense the stirrings of life there. No, that was ridiculous. She probably wasn’t pregnant anyway, and even she was, it was far too early to feel it. Shaking off the nonsensical thought, she flipped the bacon and fought to clear her head.

“I’m not pregnant,” she whispered harshly to herself. “I can’t be.”

The second Bulda had flipped the sign in the door from ‘Open’ to ‘Closed’, she turned to Anna with an expression that said: ‘I will accept no arguments’.

“Anna,” she grinned reassuringly, “Time to pee on a stick.”

Anna’s protestations were weak and fell on deaf ears as Bulda frogmarched her to the café’s bathroom, closely followed by Elsa. Cliff had left an hour earlier, trusting the three waitresses to close the café.

Bulda dug in her handbag, pulling out a distinctively packaged box, which she thrust into Anna’s hands. “I told Gerda at the pharmacy that if she so much as breathed a word about my purchase today that I would personally see to it that that cat of hers would receive a lovely haircut. I was thinking dinosaur spines up its back. Thoughts?”

“I think you’re cruel,” Anna giggled in spite of herself.

“Eh, Gerda’s a gossip. Gotta keep her quiet one way or another. Now go. Pee.” Bulda’s firm hand shoved Anna into the bathroom, before slamming the door in her face. “Let me know when you’re done – we’ll set an egg timer.”

Anna carried out the test quickly, calling out to the other two to set the timer when she was done. Methodically, she washed her hands, before exiting the bathroom, sliding the test into her pocket so she wouldn’t have to watch it developing. Elsa and Bulda were sat at a table in the middle of the café, with the last remaining slice of Anna’s blueberry-bacon pie in between them. Anna spotted her baking timer, a cute egg design that had been a present from Elsa for her birthday a few years before, on the table as well. Wordlessly, Anna pulled out a chair as Elsa handed her a fork.

“Let’s not worry before we have to, eh?” Elsa smiled. “It was only one time, and it’s never happened for you two before – maybe Hans’ little swimmers don’t work! Wouldn’t that be something?”

“Wouldn’t that be something, indeed,” said Bulda. Anna remained silent. “Anyway, when you said that you were making a blueberry and bacon pie, I thought you were high. But I think it might just be my new favourite, Anna.” She punctuated her statement by popping another forkful of pie into her mouth.

“Thank you,” Anna replied softly. “Both of you, thank you for this.”

“Any time, sweetie.” Bulda reached to stroke Anna’s wrist affectionately.

Elsa grasped Anna’s other hand tightly, echoing the sentiment. “We’re here for you all the way.”

They waited for the remaining time to elapse in silence. When the timer went off, the shrill ring caused all three of them to jump, even though they’d been expecting it.

“One line means ‘no’, two means ‘yes’,” Elsa reminded. Bulda shushed her.

Anna’s hand shook slightly as she reached into her pocket, pulling out the pregnancy test with so much trepidation that it might as well have been a ticking bomb. She felt she could hear her heart pounding in her skull, and she realised she was holding her breath as she looked down at it. She blinked once, twice, making sure she was definitely reading it correctly. One for ‘no’, two for ‘yes’. She hadn’t made a mistake; two dainty pink lines were staring back at her.

Her voice came out as a whisper. “Shit.” Before the other two could even process the information, Anna had jumped to her feet, storming to the bin to fling the treacherous pregnancy test into it. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.”

Bulda and Elsa watched her as she made her way back to them, throwing herself back into her chair and angrily stabbing her fork into the slice of pie.

“Anna-”

“Don’t. Please don’t. You know what? It’s fine. I’m fine. At least now we know.”

The bell above the door rang as it opened, and all three of them turned. Bulda quickly got to her feet. “We’re closed, honey- Oh.”

“Well, what a relief.” Anna swallowed a lump that rose in her throat as her husband walked over to them and placed his hands on her shoulders. “You were late. I was getting worried about you, princess, but here I see you ladies are just eating pie.”

Nervously, Anna glanced at the clock. “Hans, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise the time-”

“It’s fine, princess. I was just thinking you were lying in a ditch somewhere, or off with some other man, but nope! Here you are.” His hands slid off her, and he flashed the other two women a hard smile, which they returned with hesitation. “Come on, I’m hungry, let’s go.”

Anna got to her feet. “See you tomorrow, girls.”

They called out their goodbyes in return. Hans’ hand went to her upper arm, gripping it tightly as he guided her forcefully towards the door. He yanked the door open, and possessively snaked his arm around her waist, pulling her close to him as they exited.

To an outsider, it would have appeared as though Anna’s husband was whispering sweet nothings in her ear, maybe pressing a kiss to her cheek. But a shiver ran through her body as he hissed furiously, “Don’t you ever pull another stunt like that, princess. If you ever keep me waiting more than ten minutes from now on, I will see to it that you never see the inside of that café – or your prissy friends – again.”

Next Chapter

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nialledfromfics · 4 years

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The Dating Game | Chapter One

8:37.

He was already thirty seven minutes late. Her fingers lightly tapped at the veneered mahogany bar top, the ice in her drink having nearly turned to water in the bottom of her empty glass as she picked up her phone to check the time once more. 8:38.

Slumping her shoulders in a soft sigh, she reached up to tuck a few strands of her red hair behind her ear as her narrowed stare drifted around the semi-full bar area of the restaurant. She carefully inspected each lonesome male guest one last time, hoping that maybe she had just overlooked the man she was there to meet. Her teeth scraped incredulously along her bottom lip, her back straightening slightly as she attempted to peer over the heads of seated patrons, though it was becoming increasingly obvious by the second that she may have been stood up.

“Are ya waitin’ for someone?”

The low voice startled her at first, but she just casually chuckled and glanced down at her phone. “Yeah...uh, a blind date actually,” she spoke up, tapping at her phone screen to check the time. 8:42. She rolled her eyes and gently peered over towards the stranger that was standing a few feet from her left, who she, for a moment, thought maybe could be her date. Her hazelnut eyes caught his bright blue ones before she noticed the soft sweep of his chestnut brown hair laying across his forehead and the rugged stubble of his beard adorning his jaw, and she, for a moment, almost wished he was her date. “He’s almost forty five minutes late already, pretty sure that’s not a good sign.”

The guy laughed; the roaring sound resonating right through her as she watched small crinkles form by the corners of his eyes. His infectious smile was lighting up his entire face. It made her smile too. “Probably not, no.”

His voice was deep, gritty almost and riddled with an Irish rogue that she was certain could send anyone to their knees. The young woman faintly cleared her throat at her thoughts and took to stirring the half melted cubs of ice around her glass with the straw. “Is there, like, some kind of handbook on first date etiquette?” she jokingly asked the man, shifting her stare back over to his. “How long should I sit here and wait like an idiot before it’s okay to get up and leave?”

“Honestly, I couldn’t tell ya,” he said with a heavy sigh, bringing his glass to his mouth to sip down the rest of his drink, “I don’t go out on dates that much.”

She sat back in her chair and chuckled at his, frankly astonishing, confession. One that, just by the looks of him, she was having a very hard time believing. “You’re joking, right? ‘Cause if you’re having a hard time finding a date, there is absolutely no hope for me.”

A flush overcame the man’s cheeks, and he bowed his head down slightly. “I wish I was jokin’!” he replied, looking back over at the stunningly gorgeous girl sitting just two feet from him. “It’s actually my job that makes datin’ kinda hard.”

“Yeah, I wish I could say that about my job,” she said with a slight narrowing of her one eye, “much better than realizing that men are just shit.”

Another laugh belted from him before he gave her a shrug. “Fair enough, I’ll give ya that. So...what is it that you do then?”

“I’m a kindergarten teacher.”

“Really? That’s nice.”

“Yup,” she nodded. “What about you, what do you do?”

He cleared his throat, his shoulders rounding as he rested his forearms on the edge of the bar, twirling his empty glass around against the wooden bar top. “Um...I’m a musician, a singer actually.”

“Well, that’s pretty damn cool,” she shot back with her eyes going big, “much cooler than my job.”

“Doubt that, you get to be with kids all day.”

She smiled and leaned towards him, reaching out to lightly lay the tips of her fingers over his right bicep. “Like I said, much cooler than my job.”

Sitting herself back up in her barstool, she flipped her long red hair over her shoulder and clasped her hands together on top of her crossed thighs. She was unaware of his wandering gaze on her at that moment: stretching down the long slope of her neck to the slight peek of her ample cleavage that was showing from her top. She had soft full lips, painted in a muted mauve color and a delicately rounded chin. She was absolutely captivating. He quickly averted his stare when she curiously flicked her eyes over to his, and he reached up to card a hand through his dark hair as a distraction. “Uh...can I, um, get ya another drink?”

She looked down at her empty glass, pondering his question. “You know what,” she started, glancing back over at him, “yeah, I’d like that. Thanks.”

He smiled at her and raised his hand to motion the bartender over to them. “Whatcha drinkin’?”

“Vodka soda.”

He rolled his lips into his mouth and nodded. “Vodka soda for the lady, please and I’ll have another Jameson, on the rocks.”

By that time, it was her gaze that was wandering over him as he ordered. She watched as his lips curled intricately around each word that left them, her eyes drifting from the small spots dotting across his thick neck up to the glow of the bar lights that flecked through his soft eyelashes. He was very beautiful. It almost made her nervous. Feeling the heat of her stare, he locked his eyes on hers and slid himself into the seat next to her. She pulled in a deep breath as he situated himself in his chair and she was quick to realize that not only was he crazy attractive, but he also smelled incredible. Of course he did.

Her stare flicked down to her lap. “So...are you here on a date too or…” she asked, her soft voice waning slightly.

“Oh no,” he replied, shaking his head, “I’m actually meetin’ some of my mates here soon, we’re goin’ out to some club. This is my buddy’s bar actually, so...it’s kinda like our designated meetin’ point.”

“Gotcha.”

“I’m Niall, by the way.”

Her brown eyes fell to his hand as he held it out towards hers. She shook it and gave him a sweet smile. “I’m Joey, nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet ya, too.” Niall’s brow quirked up slightly as the last word left his lips and Joey couldn’t help but bite down on her bottom lip in reaction. He really was wicked handsome. “Can I ask...do ya do this often? Go out on blind dates?”

Her shoulders lifted in a laugh, a real genuine laugh that spilled effortlessly past her pouty lips like a cool breeze on a hot summer's day. Her eyes pinched shut and her nose scrunched with her loud giggle, and he couldn’t help but think how adorable she looked. It nearly left Niall breathless. But he just amorously smiled back at her. “Oh God, no,” she began, gathering her breath as the bartender set down their drinks, “this is actually the first time I’ve ever done anything like this. My best friend, Alexis, she made me download Tinder and Bumble a couple weeks ago-”

“Oh God-”

“I know, right? That’s what I said!” she agreed with another giggle. “But...I told myself that I should just try it out, ya know? Put myself out there, go on some dates, experience shit and see what happens. So...here I am. To be honest, this is the first real date I’ve been on in...a really long time. I’m...pretty nervous. And, of course, it’s already going super great, if you couldn’t tell.”

Niall let out a snort just as he went to take a sip of his drink. “Precisely why I barely ever go on dates…”

“I thought it was because of your job,” she snarkily replied, smirking at him around the straw of her drink. So she was clever too. Niall took notice and he chuckled.

“A bit of both, to be fair.”

“Ah, I see.”

“So, this guy you’re meetin’,” Niall began again, lightly waving his hand around as he spoke, “you know anythin’ about him?”

Joey set down her drink, her foot kicking back and forth as she pulled in a breath. “Um...not much really. He said that he is self- employed, around 5’11”, dark curly hair and that he was going to be wearing a light blue shirt.”

Niall’s mouth turned down at the corners. “Oooh sounds sexy,” he teased.

Tossing her head back in a boisterous laugh, his eyes went wide with enticement as her neck bared itself to him. Her shiny red hair flowed over her shoulder, cascading down her arm just as she reached up to cup her hand over her mouth. Niall’s heart might have skipped a few beats watching her. After her giggles had settled, she tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear. “I’m sure I’ll be swept right off my feet,” she joked back at him.

“Dunno, Joey,” Niall said with a sarcastic click of his tongue, “he could be the one…”

She sighed dramatically. “I definitely better prepare myself.”

“Better have that officiant on speed dial.”

“Obviously. Every girl’s must-have on a first date.”

They both broke out into a fit of giggles and Joey couldn’t help but take note of how easy and comfortable she felt talking to Niall. She hadn’t felt that way in a long time. “So,” Niall said, picking up his half empty glass and readying himself for a sip, “have you ever been here before–”

“Joey?”

Whipping her head to the right at the mention of her name, the young woman was met with a dark curly haired man wearing a light blue button up shirt. She was almost disappointed to see him. “Oh...uh, Josh, right?”

“Yeah, sorry I’m so late. Traffic was a nightmare,” he mumbled, slapping his hand to the back of a nearby barstool. “Also I had to feed my cat.”

Joey’s brows buckled at the last bit, but she waved it off. “No, no, it’s no problem, really.”

He nodded. “Should we get our table?”

“Yeah, sure, let me, uh...grab my stuff.”

Turning back around, she captured Niall’s stare and gave him an awkward ‘ugh’ expression, one that he was fast to reciprocate with a chuckle. She stood herself up, smoothing down the front of her skirt before grabbing her bag and jacket. “Thank you so much for the drink, Niall,” she told him, keeping her tone low and between them, “And the friendly conversation.”

Niall nodded. “My pleasure, Joey. Have fun, and be safe.” Giving him a kind smile, she turned to follow her date, who had already begun to shuffle off towards their table. Niall watched as she walked away, Joey barely making it a few steps before she had glanced back at him over her shoulder. He had a coy half-smirk on his face, one that could without a doubt ignite a fire in a snowstorm and, for a split second, Joey wondered what the hell she was doing.

•

She had known who he was. The second she looked over at him, saw those heavenly blue eyes and heard that brogue accent, it clicked. But there was no way she was going to freak out or tell him that. Besides, by the end of the conversation, she had practically forgotten that he was a multimillionaire world famous musician and singer. He was just...another guy she met at a bar.

However, the moment she sat down at the reserved table with her date, randomly meeting Niall Horan at a bar in West Hollywood was the last thing on her mind. Josh, her blind date, seemed nice enough. He ordered them drinks, a lot of drinks, and kept up fairly well with the initial awkward getting-to-know-you conversation, though his frequent mention of someone was starting to stump Joey.

“....and Tina really likes it when we play together.”

Joey set down her drink. “Um...you keep mentioning Tina, who is that? Your daughter or something?”

“Daughter?” he laughed. “No, I don’t have any kids. No, human kids.”

Her eyes narrowed in perplexity as the guy tipped his head back to guzzle down the last of his mixed drink, the waiter having already brought him a fresh one. “Tina is my cat.”

“Oh.”

“Listen, if I could marry her, I would. But I guess that’s not really legal, huh?”

Joey stayed silent, her widening eyes slowly falling to the salad plate that rested in front of her. She chalked his comment up as a joke, but as the night dragged on, five more drinks being consumed by her date as he gleefully showed Joey about forty two pictures and twelve different videos of Tina the Cat, she began to think maybe he wasn’t joking at all…

Half way through their main course, Joey could tell that Josh wasn’t really holding his alcohol too well. His eyelids were droopy, his skin blotchy and clammy with sweat settling across his brow-line and his words were slurring to the point that Joey could barely understand a single thing he was saying. She knew it wasn’t looking good.

“Hey...are you okay?” she finally asked, noticing the redness in his cheeks starting to fade to blue. Josh simply looked up at her and swallowed hard before attempting to lift himself out of his chair. He grabbed at his stomach, a slightly worrisome grumble bubbling up into his throat as he kept his balance with his free hand gripping to the edge of the table.

“Oh...oh, okay,” Joey mumbled, “...this is happening…”

She went to reach out for him as he began to wobble past her, assuming he was headed towards the bathroom, when he paused; the look on his face harboring sheer terror the second his eyes caught hers.

Oh shit. He wasn’t going to make it.

Joey’s mouth dropped open in a horrified gasp, not even having time to lean out of the way as Josh bent over and puked right there on the restaurant floor next to her. The entire place fell silent as the sounds of uncontrollable retching and half digested contents hitting the tiled floor echoed throughout the large open space. Joey slapped her hands up to cover her nose and mouth, the entire side of her bare leg splattered in his vomit.

He stayed bent over, heaving and moaning after he was through, servers rushing around him as they tried to figure out how to handle the situation. Joey slowly peeked back up to his face, his glazed over eyes meeting hers and all she could do was let out a defeated sigh. “I’ll get you a Lyft.”

•

After cleaning herself up as best she could in the restaurant bathroom and helping Josh into his Lyft–and a couple half-assed apologies being muttered as she buckled him in–Joey watched the car pull away, tightening her jacket around her body. It wasn’t cold outside by any means, but there had formed a slight chill in the late night air and instead of grabbing herself a ride, Joey decided to walk the few blocks north to the small Italian bistro, Italiano’s, that her brother worked at. Italiano’s also happened to be her favorite restaurant and had a to-die-for Tiramisu that Joey absolutely loved. She thought that after the night she had endured, she deserved to treat herself to something indulgent.

It was only a fifteen minute walk, Joey arriving just as they were about to close up for the night. She yanked open the door with a relieved sigh and smiled at Ramona, the hostess and Joey’s brother’s girlfriend, who was standing beside a small wooden podium. “You’re here kinda late,” Ramona mentioned as she stepped to the side to give Joey a hug.

“Yeah, just left what was probably the worst date I’ve ever been on,” Joey explained, “thought I’d stop by to see if you guys’ have any of that Tiramisu left?”

Ramona smiled. “I’m sure we’ve got a piece or two left,” she said with a wink, leading Joey over to a table. “I’ll put you in Carter’s section.”

“Thanks Ramona.”

Showing Joey which table to sit at, she poured her a glass of water and rested a hand on her shoulder. “I’m gonna go clean up those couple tables over there and then I’ll be back. We can have a little girl talk if you want.”

Nodding at her with a smile, Joey watched Ramona walk off just as her brother, Carter, began heading towards her table. He was already carrying a small plate that had a generous portion of Tiramisu on it. “You are a lifesaver,” Joey mumbled as he stepped up and set the plate down in front of her.

“I wouldn’t be your bro if I didn’t know exactly why you were here.”

Joey rolled her eyes and pulled the fork from her folded up cloth napkin, quickly digging into the dessert. Carter took the time to sit down in the chair across from her, his shift pretty much over with Joey being the only patron left in the establishment. “So, how was your night?” he asked her.

“Shitty,” she said between bites, not even looking up at him. “Or maybe I should say...’vomity’.”

Carter’s brows pulled in. “Huh?”

She peeked up at him. “I went on a blind date and the guy threw up on me,” she said with a snort, “well…on my leg.”

“Fuck,” he chuckled.

“Yeah.”

Ramona came shuffling over, pulling out the chair between Joey and Carter and sitting herself down. “Okay, what’d I miss?”

“She got puked on,” Carter told Ramona, pointing a finger at Joey.

A gasp left Ramona’s red lips. “You’re joking?!”

Throwing her brother a spiteful look, Joey sighed. “Wish I was, but nope, the guy got totally wasted and just...threw up everywhere. It was so embarrassing.”

“Yikes.”

Joey licked the last bit of Tiramisu off her lips and pushed the plate away from her. Dropping her chin into the cups of her hands, she rested her elbows on the table. “I feel like this is some kind of sign, that I’m just destined to be alone forever.”

Carter sighed. “Jo, don’t say that.”

“It’s just...I’m really trying to put myself out there, ya know? And of course, I can’t even have a decent first date. I have to, literally, get puked on,” Joey said, carefully tucking some hair behind her ear.

Ramona shot her a soft smile and leaned her arms on the table. “Carter and I had a pretty bad first date. It doesn’t always mean the rest will be bad too.”

“What was wrong with our first date?” Carter asked her, his face pulling in.

The dark haired girl laughed. “You were twenty minutes late picking me up, our reservations got ‘lost’ so then we had to wait an extra hour for our table and then your car got towed while we were eating. That’s pretty bad.”

Carter rolled his eyes. “Oh, that’s not that bad.”

“Anyway,” Ramona continued, peering back over at Joey, “all I’m saying is that you never know how it’s going to end up. Maybe Puke Boy deserves a second chance.”

Joey chuckled and shook her head. “Most definitely not. We really didn’t have much in common anyway. I’m just worried that I’ll never be able to find someone.”

Reaching out to put a hand on Joey’s shoulder, Ramona leaned closer to her. “It might seem like you can’t find anyone, but I promise you will. You’re amazing Joey, and you shouldn’t have to settle for just anyone. You gotta keep searching.”

“You think?” Joey flicked her eyes from Ramona to her brother.

“Definitely,” Carter assured her with a gentle smile, “just don’t give up. Not yet, ‘cause it’s usually right where you least expect it.”

•

#niall #niall horan #niall fic #niall fan fic #niall smut #niall ou #slowburn #tdg #tdg chap 1 #ALRIGHT YALL HERE IT IS!!!!!!#been working on this for MONTHS now and i really hope you like it #first chapters are always tricky ones so i do appreciate yall taking the time to read #and i hope you want to continue reading!!#Joey and Niall story is JUST getting started #so please share with everyone #enjoy #let me know what you think!#thanks :))

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avengerscompound · 5 years

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The Tower: The Queen of Asgard - 27

The Tower: The Queen of Asgard An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Pairing: Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 2990

Warnings: Being naked, sex talk

Synopsis: The twins are now three and while the Avengers know that Clint and Thor are the biological father’s none of them know or care which blond, blue-eyed baby is related to which man. When Riley gets the power to control wind and it becomes evident that she is the heir to the Asgardian throne, Elly, Steve, Thor, and Tony take the twins to Asgard to train her.

Not every Asgardian is happy with their king’s choice of consort, nor the impurity of the heir’s blood. While others expect Thor to make things more official. What’s clear is, the role of Queen of Asgard is not easily filled.

Author’s Note: Written with my very sleepy daughter @fanficwriter013

Chapter 27: Friends and Loved Ones

The following week and a half passed with little incident. Since the Fenestare things had settled a lot. The threat of some sibling taking the crown seemed to pass by forgotten completely and everyone had just fallen in line with Thor’s leadership. For most of us, it had become like the vacation none of us had ever taken. We were relaxed and enjoying the planet and each other. Tony had made his little bots that followed us around but aside from the fact I would need mine to tell me where I was, no one ever used it.

It was only really Thor that was kept busy and he was kept very busy. Between the Bonding and training Riley and running Asgard he was out from early in the morning until late at night when he would come back exhausted. We had started talking about one or two of us staying with him on Asgard at a time but we didn’t know how to organize that system. There was already so much time that got taken from us as a family, to add weeks on Asgard to that too meant that we’d always be in a state of flux. Not to mention deciding who would stay.

Being in a long-distance relationship with a king wasn’t easy.

The day we had set to have our joint bachelor party I woke up engulfed in Bucky and Steve’s arms. I stretched like a cat and they didn’t stir at all. It had only taken a week for them to completely enter a relaxed holiday mode. It was probably a little concerning, but I was still impressed. It was nice seeing them like that.

When I opened my eyes that wasn’t the only thing I saw though. Phil Coulson was standing near the bed looking at us.

“Phil!” I yelped covering myself with a sheet.

Bucky and Steve both sat bolt upright and looked around startled and on alert. “Phil?” Steve said confused.

“What the hell?” Bucky added a little angrier sounding.

“Sorry!” Phil said raising his hands in surrender. “I was told you were in here, so I came to see and you were sleep and… I’m sorry.”

“Does that mean everyone is here?” I asked.

“Yeah, we arrived this morning,” Phil answered. “You’re getting married?”

“Bonding,” Steve said. “But essentially. Now if you don’t mind…”

“Right. I’ll go back to the others.” Phil said apologetically, retreating from the room.

When the door closed I leaned my forehead on Bucky’s shoulder. “I think I just aged 5 years.”

Steve chuckled softly and kissed my neck. “Well, in good news, you’re about to get 4,900 extra years. So you can afford them.”

I turned and kissed him gently. “Two days.”

He made a soft sound and his hand flexed on my hip.

“Okay,” I said pulling back. “I’m gonna get dressed and go say hello.”

“That’s a good idea,” Bucky said stretching.

I dressed and headed out into the living room. It was at capacity, with almost everyone else up and eating as well as our friends, some of the Dora Milaje and even Carol Danvers who we saw once in a blue moon.

“Gurl!” Clark said, jumping to her feet, her violet eyes twinking. “We gonna hafta talk. This is fucking Asgard!”

“Right?” I said coming over and hugging her.

“Everyone is so pretty. How are they all so pretty?” She asked as she pulled back from me.

“They’re gods?” I said. “But it’s much more open here if you and Jax want to get busy.”

“Mmm… we’ve already decided on a competition. I’ve got my eyes on a few people.” She teased. “So come on, explain to me what’s going on.”

I came and sat next to her and Jax and ran through the whole series of events from the day Riley’s powers come in, coming here, being attacked and the bonding ceremony. Around me, a similar conversation was had by small groups of the others in the room.

“You sure you want this?” Jax said. “We always spoke about what your parents wanted for you…”

“Yes, what they wanted for me was marry rich have kids. Which I guess I am doing, but I don’t think they envisioned this. There are things that scare me, and I’m sure you’re going to have your work cut out for you when I get back. Living for 5000 years is scary. But...” I said. “I’m so happy.”

“Well, then I’m happy for you.” He said.

“Sweetie, you’re not at work now,” Clarke said in a playfully patronizing tone, letting Jax know to stop analyzing things. He held up his hands in surrender and she turned back to me. “So bachelorette?”

“It’s a group thing because we don’t really have a lot of people otherwise,” I said.

“Alcohol? Strippers?” She asked.

“Yes to both. But go easy on the mead.” I said. “I had to take Sam to the healers.”

“Yikes. Okay. I’ll try and remember that.” She said. “I’m excited to try the food.”

“Well, it should be here soon. I’m sure there will be enough for everyone.” I said.

“Oh, nice. I bet it’s super weird and decadent.” She sat up straight all of a sudden and looked around the room. “Wait, where are my kiddos?”

“Asleep I guess. They sleep like the dead here. I think it’s the air.” I said. “Do you want to go get them.”

She raised an eyebrow at me. “Of course.”

“Before you do,” Loki said, appearing behind me and making me jump.

“Jesus, Loki!” I gasped holding my chest. “How many times can you do that and find it funny?”

“Every time, Elise,” She snarked. “There is a tight schedule today. You have about an hour and a half for breakfast and to … socialize. Then final fittings for your garments. Then there will be initial preparations for Henhalda. That’s the body painting. You will be bathed and then your artists will do the outlines on your arms and legs. You will have lunch during that time because it will take you until dinner and then this party of yours tonight.”

“Thank you, sister.” I teased.

“Do not make me break the truce and stab you, Elise.” She snarked.

“Fine. No, that’s all good. I’ll go and get the kids then?” I said. “Will you be taking care of them?”

“Myself and the Lady Sif shall take turns. I assure you they will be fine.” She said.

I nodded and got up and headed into the kids’ rooms with Clarke trailing behind me. As we came into the room we found Riley already climbing out of the bed. She squealed and ran over to Clarke. “Aunnie Cwarke!”

“Hi, baby!” Clarke said scooping her up. “Tell me all about Asgard.”

I went over to Pietro and start to rub his back to wake him.

“Umm… dey calls me a pwincess.” Riley said, thinking hard. “And uhh… daddy’s been teaching me to do da wind.”

“And are you getting good at controlling the wind?” Clarke asked.

She nodded vigorously as Pietro groaned and sat up. “Aunnie Cwarke?” He said in a sleepy voice.

“Hey, baby,” Clarke said gently.

“You came to Asgawd?” He asked.

“Yeah, buddy. Lots of people are here. Uncle Phil and Auntie Maria. Uncle Scott. Uncle Rhodey. Uncle Jax.” I said and he started bouncing on his bed.

“Come on, kiddo,” Clarke said. “Come out and see everyone.”

Pietro ran out and stopped dead looking at the room full of all the people he loved best. The food had arrived and Riley pointed at Magnus. Meanwhile, Pietro had started dancing on the spot like he didn’t know where to go first. Wanda looked around at him and smiled. “Hey, little one. How are you doing?”

“Good, daj,” he said, happily. “Deys all here.”

“Are you happier now that family is all here?” Wanda asked.

“Dis Cwistmas?” Pietro asked.

Wanda squeaked and her hand went to her mouth. “El. El! That was adorable!”

“Not quite Christmas, kiddo,” I said ruffling his hair. “How about you go say hello to everyone though.”

He ran over to Rhodey first and gave him a huge hug. I went and got a plate of breakfast for me and the kids and sat. The room was completely alive with talk and excitement. It was good. Everything felt like it was falling into place. There were just a few more pieces to go.

My final fitting was done under the supervision of Loki, who was very particular about where things still needed to be taken in or up. She’d hiss things in Asgardian to the tailors and then swept out of the room to do the same with the next person. It looked beautiful though. Everything I never imagined a wedding dress could be. Not that it was a wedding really, but there was no way that whatever dress I chose to wear when I married Tony would be able to match the way this shimmered in the light and looked like it contained magic itself in it. I decided then and there, whatever Tony and I did would be small, and more casual. A little celebration just to make what we were doing here as a group, as legally recognized as we’d be able to back on Earth.

When I was done and back into my regular clothes I came out to the living room. A moment later a group of people of varying ages came in and they were directed by Loki to each of our bedrooms. She turned back to face us.

“Now is Henhalda. You will need to follow the directions of your artists. They may ask you to stand, lie down, sit. Or they might be happy for you to decide. Each artist has been chosen to deal with you specifically. Whether you need a firm hand, someone to work in silence, a reassuring presence, a gentle touch, or someone who is less attached to rank and tradition.” Loki said looking from Clint, Natasha, Wanda, Bruce and I in turn. “They have briefed about who you each are and who they are working with specifically so they understand what reservations you might each have. Particularly when it comes to the nudity required for Henhalda. Those fine with nudity will most likely be asked to strip off right away so that the artwork can be carried out from the inside out. Those that need time to become comfortable will have their arms and legs worked on first.

“Voice your reservations so they can put them at ease. But this must be done apart from each other. You may take a friend with you but it can not be one you are to bond with.”

Steve looked a little uncomfortable but gave a small nod, while Bruce looked from Loki to me with panic in his eyes. “I don’t think I can do this, El.”

I moved over to him and caressed his jaw. “Yes, you can,” I said firmly. “The big guy knows how important this is. You just have to get out of your own head.”

“I can come with you if you like,” Jax offered. “Go through your relaxation techniques.”

Bruce nodded a little. “If you’re sure.”

“I’d be honored,” Jax assured him.

“Bruce, if you really can’t handle it, let Hulk out. Just… let him out before he takes over on his own. You know that he’s always calmer when you do that, and I think he’d quite enjoy being painted on. Besides, it will let him be a real part of this.”

Bruce winced and gave a nod. “El,” he whispered. “I might need a buffer for the party. I mean, after this.”

I leaned in and kissed his cheek gently. “Of course, honey. You’ve got me.”

We separated into pairs. Coulson went with Clint. Hill with Natasha. Jax went with Bruce, Wanda with Vision. Scott got super lucky when Steve agreed to let him go with him. Bucky had the honor of T’Challa agreeing to go with him. Sam took Rhodey with him after Tony agreed to share his best friend and took Happy with him instead, and Thor took Sif. Clarke was coming with me and everyone else was going to either see the sights of Asgard or take turns looking after the twins.

I went into my bedroom to find a young woman, who looked around 18 in Earth years but could have been any age really, set up with a table, brushes, and inks.

“Where would you like me?” I asked.

“Where ever you feel comfortable.” The girl replied. “We’ll be here for a while so I’d suggest lying but I can work however you like.”

“Do you want me naked right away?” I asked her.

She nodded. “If you’re comfortable doing that. You can go face down first too if that helps.”

“Alright,” I said taking off my clothes. “It’s okay to tell me what to do, you know? I don’t want to make this difficult for you.”

“So, it is true what they say.” She said as I lay down on the bed face down and Clarke went to my wardrobe and began looking through it.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“That you are like us,” she said. “You don’t see yourself as Royalty. Or better than us.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, well I don’t think I’m better than you, that’s for sure.”

“Some of the elders don’t understand.” She said. “I like it though. It’s nice.”

She began to wash my back down with a warm cloth that smelled like roses and Clarke came back and sat down beside me, leaning on the bedhead. “I’m gonna steal some of your clothes.”

“Go for it,” I said as the girl began to trace a pattern out on my back with her finger.

“Awesome. Gonna look like a princess at your party.” Clarke said. “What’re you doing there?”

“Oh, I uh - I’ve never done a Henhalda before. I just want to get a picture of it in my head before I start.” She said. She kneeled on the bed beside me and pulled her little table over closer and began to paint.

The ink was cool on my skin and she was painting such fine intricate lines that it put me into an almost trance-like state of relaxation, my skin tingling.

“You should see this, blue,” Clarke said. “This girl is crazy talented.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“Will the others be the same? Or is this unique per person?” I asked.

“Some of it will be identical. It’s supposed to represent your lives together. And some of that is shared. Some is individual.” She explained.

I hummed. “I can’t wait to see everyone’s.”

“And of course the private paintings meant only for each other.” She said.

“What will they be?” I asked.

“You will have symbolic images, representing your lovers, painted in your most intimate places.” She said.

“Oh wow. That’s going to be so fun to explore with each other.” I said. “What will the one that represents me look like? Do you know?”

“It is a flower made of blue flame, that’s roots run out and join with the other’s symbols and one to the heart of each person it is painted on. Worked into the flower is the rune Gebo.”

“What does Gebo mean?” I asked.

“It means, gifts and relationships. Sacrifice and exchange.” She said.

I liked that and wondered if the others had runes in their symbols too and if they did what they stood for. “Who designed them.”

“We did as a team using psychics who mapped out your futures.” She answered. She moved down to my legs and then seemed to change her mind and came back up to my shoulders. “Sorry, the way I paint is more unconventional. This is why they assigned me to you. The others are more stuffy.”

I chuckled. “Oh no. I’m the difficult one.”

“Just untraditional. But I am the youngest. So I don’t care for tradition.” She said. “I like working with you. I think we could be friends.”

“That would be nice. I could always use more friends.” I said. “What’s your name?”

She almost squeaked in excitement. “Katveil. Can I call you Elise?”

“Or Elly. My friends call me Elly.” I said.

“I don’t. I call her blue.” Clarke said.

“Why do you call her that?” Katveil asked.

“I don’t know. She’s just … blue.” Clarke said.

“What is your name?” Katveil asked.

“Clarke,” Clarke said giving Katveil a nod. “Here to share in naked time.”

Katveil started laughing. “It is a little odd, even for here.”

“Feels nice though. Soothing. I could probably fall to sleep.” I said.

“You are welcome to if the urge comes. Go with your feelings.” Katveil said.

We stayed talking until lunch where I ate lying on my stomach while the ink dried on my back. When Katveil was satisfied with the ink being dry enough she had me roll over and started painting my front. I watched her for a while as the design got smaller and more intricate and eventually I did doze off and was awoken abruptly by Katveil shaking me.

“You’re finished.” She said when my eyes snapped open. “I have not painted the special symbols yet. They are to wait until tomorrow.”

I looked down at myself. I looked like I’d become one giant mandala. “Holy shit.” I gasped.

Katveil smiled. “Just wait until it’s colored. You won’t believe your eyes.”

“I’m really excited,” I said.

Katveil gave a little bow. “I shall see you tomorrow. Enjoy your party, Elly.”

“Thank you, Katveil. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I said.

“Please, call me Kat.” She said.

“Kat is is.” I agreed.

Katveil left the room and Clarke shoved me. “Come on, lady.” She said. “We gotsta get ready. It’s time to party.”

// NEXT

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autisticfangpyreclub · 4 years

Text

Gold stained hands, red stained teeth - chapter 3

sorry this took so long I was feeling kinda lethargic over the past few days but hopefully I’ll get back into the Writing Mood

“One hot cup of cocoa, coming right up!”

Lloyd laughed as Kai dramatically poured the chocolate powder into the mug. He was sitting at the table reading a book on engineering Jay had given him to keep him entertained. Kai was in the kitchen making himself a nutritious breakfast of instant ramen, while also making Lloyd a cup of hot chocolate. Zane would be upset if he saw how much of a mess he was making, but that was future Kai’s problem.

“You gonna be okay here while I’m gone?” Kai asked as he wiped up the milk he had split on the counter. He handed the warm mug to Lloyd, who accepted it graciously.

“Of course, I’ll be very quiet,” Lloyd said, taking a sip of his hot chocolate, “if anyone tries to come in I’ll just turn into a bat and hide.”

Kai took his ramen out of the microwave and poured it into a thermos. “I’m more worried about you getting bored cooped up in here…”

Lloyd raised an eyebrow. “I’m sixteen, I can keep myself entertained.”

Kai sighed, and grabbed his backpack off the coat hanger. “Maybe I should just skip…” he hummed, looking up at the clock that was swiftly ticking towards 11:30.

Lloyd put his mug down and shook his head furiously. “No, I’ll be fine here, don’t miss class because of me.”

Everyone else had already left for morning classes, leaving Kai and Lloyd alone in the dorm room. He only had one class today, but it was two hours long. While he didn’t want to leave Lloyd all by himself, Wu would kill him if he skipped for the third time in a month.

“You sure you’ll be okay?”

“Yes!” Lloyd grabbed a pillow off the couch and tossed it at him, “now get a move on!”

Kai squawked as the pillow hit him in the stomach. “ACK! Okay I’m going!” Kai shielded himself with his backpack, and darted out the door to avoid a barrage of pillow torpedoes.

Lloyd turned back to his book. He didn’t want to admit it, but reading about automobile engineering basics wasn’t exactly the most interesting, especially considering he didn’t even know what an automobile was. He closed the book, and laid his head down on the table.

It’d only been two minutes since Kai left, and he was already bored. It was rather pathetic, he was a centuries old vampire and yet a few hours alone sounded awful to him.

A shrill noise startled him out of his thoughts. It sounded like a distressed animal, and it was coming from outside. He leapt out of his chair, and ran to the kitchen window. He tried to peek through the blinds, but his eyes were burned by the flash of sunlight.

He hissed and drew back. The one thing he was asked to do was not go outside, and Lloyd didn’t want to lose the trust of the few people he knew in this time period. But… the pained cries were only getting louder, and he hated the thought of some poor creature being in trouble. It wouldn’t take more than a minute, surely…?

He grabbed his cape off the coat hanger, and draped it over his head. It wouldn’t completely block the sun, but it would be enough if he was quick. His eyes clenched shut as he opened the door, and stepped out into the daylight.

As he stepped out of the dorm, his attention was immediately drawn to the tree planted at the edge of the parking lot. That was where the noise was coming from. Being careful not to let his cape fly away in the wind, he ran over to the tree.

“Oh no!”

There was a small gray cat sitting high up on a tree branch. It was shivering and meowing sadly, clinging to the branch like its life depended on it.

“Are you stuck?” Lloyd called up to it, “I’ll get you down, don’t worry.”

It blinked it’s emerald green eyes at him, and meowed in response. Climbing the tree with a cape draped over his face would be a difficult task, but luckily for him, he had an easier solution.

Lloyd dropped his cape, and transformed into a bat in a puff of golden sparkles. The cat yowled in alarm, and sped further up the tree. It hissed and swatted at him as he flew up and clung to the branch. He tried to say something to soothe the cat, but all that came out was squeaks.

He gulped at the hungry look in the cat’s eyes. Bats did look an awful lot like flying mice…

The cat lunged toward him with its claws out. Lloyd transformed back in a panic, not thinking about how he was still hanging upside down from the thin branch. He heard a SNAP, and he and the cat were sent hurtling towards the ground.

In the split second before they both hit the hard ground, Lloyd caught the cat in his arms. It mewed softly, and nuzzled against his chest. His head was shaken a bit from the impact, but his powers healed any other injuries faster than he could notice them. He stood up, and held the cat up in the air.

“It’s very rude to eat someone trying to rescue you,” he scolded, “what do you have to say for yourself?”

The cat sneezed, and stuck it’s tongue out. Lloyd giggled and rubbed his face against it’s velvety fur. “Alright, I forgive you.”

“Meowthra!”

Lloyd jumped, and turned to see a woman running towards him. She had silvery gray hair, but she looked like a young adult. She huffed and leaned against the tree.

“Thank goodness, you found her,” she gasped, out of breath, “where was she?!”

Lloyd glanced away awkwardly. This was exactly what he had been afraid of. God, what an idiot he was. Now she was probably going to tell everyone he was here and Kai and the rest of them would get in trouble and it would be all his fault and-

“U-Um…” Lloyd stuttered, “she was stuck in the tree…”

Meowthra squirmed around in his arms. He let her go, and she bounded over to the woman and rubbed against her leg.

“Silly kitty…” the woman sighed, “I’m Pixal, thanks for your help.”

“Oh, um, don’t mention it…” he said quietly, trying to figure out a way to escape the conversation. He couldn’t go back into the dorm, not with Pixal watching. He couldn’t exactly walk off either, at the moment the shade from the tree was the only thing protecting him from the sun. “I’m Lloyd.”

“Are you a student here?” she asked.

“Uh, yes!” Lloyd replied without thinking, then mentally slapped himself.

Pixal scooped up Meowthra, and held her under her arm like a suitcase. “You must be in the drama program, that’s why you're dressed like that right?”

Lloyd looked down at his clothing in confusion, before remembering he was dressed for a totally different time period. “O-Oh, yeah, I was just on my way to class actually-“

He bit his tongue. Great, now he had an even deeper hole to get out of.

“Oh, that’s perfect actually!” she said cheerfully, “do you think you could help me move some boxes into the theatre?”

Lloyd blinked. “Theatre…?”

“The tech crew needs some extra cables, but the guy who was supposed to help me move the boxes bailed on me…” she explained, “and I haven’t even started yet thanks to this little demon,” she glared at Meowthra, who just yawned and twitched her ears.

“U-Uh…” Lloyd realized there was no way he could politely say no without having to say he lied about being on his way to class. Great. Just great. “Of course, it’d be a pleasure!” he said, hoping she wouldn’t notice how much he was sweating.

“Thanks so much!” she turned and walked towards the parking lot, “the boxes are in my car, follow me.”

Lloyd discreetly grabbed his cape off the ground and threw it over his head. He winced as he stepped back into the sunlight, already regretting this decision immensely.

It’d been many years since Morro had stood before the gates of Garmadon castle. Nothing had changed a bit. It looked just as decrepit as it had centuries ago.

“Why is the gate locked?!” Morro snapped, rattling the bars as if he could somehow yank the gate open with his bare hands, “this is ridiculous! What kind of arcane barrier is this?!”

Bansha sharpened her knife against a rock she had picked up off the ground, indifferent to Morro’s tantrum. “Probably because this is a tourist attraction now, I’d guess… and I assume the gate is opened with a button inside that box over there,” she said, pointing her knife towards the ticket booth.

The lady inside the booth was fast asleep in her chair. She had music on loud enough you could hear it blaring from outside the booth, and she had a sleeping mask on.

Bansha clicked her tongue. “Not very good at her job, is sh- HEY!”

Morro snatched the rock out of her hand, and stomped over to the ticket booth. He aimed the rock at the woman’s head, but before he could throw it the woman stirred. She pulled her sleeping mask off, and looked around groggily. “Huh? Is someone there?”

Morro hastily hid the rock behind his back, and cleared his throat. “Open the gate… please.”

The woman turned her music off. Her nose wrinkled at the smell of decay emanating from him, and she tried not to stare at his medieval looking clothing. “You mean you want… a ticket?”

“Yes, a ticket for the gate, because I would like inside,” Morro said stiffly, “please open the gate.”

Behind him, Bansha groaned and rubbed her temples. “Dear god help me…”

She nodded, and leaned down to open the safe tucked between her feet. “I’m surprised we’ve been getting so many visitors lately,” she mused, shuffling through the papers stuffed in the safe, “we rarely get two groups visiting in one month, much less in the same week-“

Morro frowned, his hand brushing against the dagger strapped to his belt. “There were people here before us?”

“Yeah, a couple of college students from NCU,” she explained, stamping two tickets, “they were acting kinda strange when they came out though… fortunately for them I don’t get paid enough to care if they stole anything.”

Morro exchanged a look with Bansha, who pocketed her blade and approached the ticket booth. “And just where is this ‘NCU?’” Morro asked.

“Downtown, just north of that big shopping mall, you can’t miss it really,” she said absentmindedly, sliding the tickets to them. “That’ll be ten fifty please.”

“Uh…” Morro gripped the rock he was still holding tighter, “we don’t have any money, but-“

“Enjoy your day miss,” Bansha cut him off, and pulled Morro away by the arm. The woman watched in confusion as she tugged Morro far enough away that they were out of earshot.

“What was that for?!” Morro sputtered, “must I remind you that I am the one in charge?!”

Bansha eyed the rock he had in his grip. “I feel I must remind you, our queen would prefer if we performed our mission… quietly.”

Morro scowled and tossed the rock aside. “I wasn’t going to kill her… I was just going to give us enough time to open that gate.”

“The castle is obviously no longer a reliable fortress for Lloyd,” Bansha said, crossing her arms, “I believe his new lair is that college she mentioned, NCU.”

“Then what’re we waiting for?” Morro stomped his foot impatiently, “let’s go-“

“Patience, Morro, patience…” she hushed, “do you not remember what I taught you when you were a child?”

“...A good hunter must always wait for the ideal opportunity before striking, I know…” he turned away from her, and stared up at the crumbling towers of the castle. It was poetic almost… a dying castle for a dead family. Soon to be completely dead, that is.

His attention snapped back to Bansha. “I’m not a child anymore, you don’t need to teach me anything,” he grunted.

She let out a raspy chuckle. “Don’t be arrogant, everyone can be taught something.”

Morro watched as she summoned a wisp of blue fire in her hand. She whispered something incomprehensible to it, and it floated out of her hand and disappeared into the forest. “A message for the others,” she told him, wiping the excess blue powder off on her coat.

Magic had always seemed to allude Morro. He had begged the preeminent many times for magic lessons, but she had always said he just didn’t have any potential. His queen always knew best. Still, he was bitter about constantly feeling inferior to his subordinates.

“I’ve been patient enough, let’s go.”

Bansha rolled her eyes as he sauntered back towards the parking lot. She followed behind him, putting an arm out to stop him just in time before he stepped in a large puddle of water.

“Water is our only weakness, remember?” she said in response to his confused expression, “if it touches you, your flesh will melt right off your bones.”

Morro shuddered, and lurched away from the puddle. “A horribly inconvenient weakness…” he murmured.

“Perhaps if you hadn’t failed to kill Lloyd, then we wouldn’t have such a weakness,” Bansha hummed, lifting her skirt so it wouldn’t drag along the wet ground.

“What?”

She stiffened. A brief hint of sadness flickered in her eyes. “It’s nothing,” she said, shaking her head, “let’s get there before it rains again.”

Class went by uneventfully. Kai didn’t pay much attention during Wu’s lecture, his mind was too preoccupied worrying about Lloyd. He didn’t fully realize how much he had spaced out until he looked down at the blank notebook page sitting in front of him. Whoops. He’d just have to ask Skylor for her notes after class.

“Please remember your assignment is due by the end of the month,” Wu announced, “see me if you need any assistance.”

Kai closed his notebook with a sigh. He was way behind on his history paper, he could thank his shitty adhd brain for that. None of the tips he was given on focusing ever helped, so he usually just did all his assignments last minute and prayed his professors wouldn’t notice. To his credit, they usually didn’t.

As he was wading through the mass of students exiting the classroom, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Wu standing behind him. “May I speak to you for a minute Kai?” he asked.

He beckoned Kai over to his desk. “I’ve noticed you’ve been having some trouble on your assignment.”

Kai stuck his hands in his pockets, and gave a half shrug. “Uh… yeah, a little bit, but I’m fine.”

Wu stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Nya told me you all visited Garmadon castle yesterday, yes? How was it?”

“It was… interesting,” he replied, suppressing a laugh. Interesting was a severe understatement, what went down yesterday was straight up fantastical.

“If you have yet to pick a topic for your paper, may I suggest you do some more research on the castle?” Wu said, “I’m quite… knowledgeable on it myself, so I could offer you plenty of help.”

Kai’s eyes lit up. Of course! Lloyd probably knew everything about the castle's history, he wouldn’t even need to do any research. Who needs google when you have a friendly vampire living in your dorm room?

“Yeah, that’s an awesome idea!” Kai cheered, “thanks Wu!” He waved goodbye, and ran out of the classroom.

Wu watched him go with a smile. His eyes drifted to the framed handwritten letter he kept on his desk, the letter he’d received from Misako just before Lloyd’s sixteenth birthday. He held the picture frame in his hands and read the letter aloud.

My dear brother-in-law,

I hope this letter finds you well. We’ve all missed you terribly while you’ve been away, Lloyd especially. He grows more beautiful and darling each year, like a blooming flower in springtime. He’s become such a charming young man. I wish you could be here for this momentous celebration, but I understand your business abroad must come first. Garmadon has planted a tea tree for you in the garden, if that entices you to return sooner. We could all sit and have dinner under the moonlight, just like we did in our youth. I know Lloyd would love that.

Adoringly, Misako.

It was the last letter he’d ever received from them. He’d spent centuries rereading it over and over, torturing himself with it as punishment for being the catalyst in their deaths. A teardrop landed on the glass as his shaking hands clung to the frame.

All these years, and he still wept every time he thought of them. Thought of how his mistake of taking in one child, caused the death of another.

Jay groaned and dropped the box of lightbulbs on the ground. “Y’know, we’d be able to get the lights fixed a lot faster if you actually got off your ass and helped.”

Cryptor didn’t look up from his phone. “Not my problem,” he said curtly.

“But you're the one who made half the lightbulbs in the damn theatre burst!” Jay snapped back at him.

The doors to the theatre slammed open. “Sorry I’m late!” Pixal cried out as she wobbled past Jay, carrying two boxes of various cords and cables in her arms. She set them down, and she leaned against them to catch her breath.

“Meowthra got out again and Cryptor bailed on me, so I almost had to move these all by myself- HEY!” she angrily squinted at Cryptor, “where were you?!”

Cryptor avoided her gaze. “I was… busy.”

“If by busy you mean making half the lightbulbs in the theatre explode, then yeah, you were pretty busy,” Jay scoffed. He grabbed a long cable out of the box, and swung it around like a whip. “I oughta hit you with this!”

“Please don’t,” Pixal chided, “how did that even happen?”

Cryptor shrugged. “Long story.”

The theatre door gently opened. Lloyd stepped tentatively inside, a huge stack of boxes in his arms. “Um, where should I put these-“

He locked eyes with Jay, and froze. Jay stared at him with his mouth agape, the cable he was holding clattered onto the floor.

Pixal gave them both an odd look. “Uh… what’s wrong?”

Jay sputtered, his eyes darting between Pixal and Lloyd. “Lloyd?! Your not supposed to be-“

Lloyd bit his lip and set the boxes down. He could feel his face heating up in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, I promise I won’t go outside again, please don’t be mad-“

Jay’s eyebrows shot up in alarm. “No no, I’m not mad!” he said quickly, “I was just-“

“Okay, I don’t care about whatever drama is going on here,” Cryptor interrupted, “what I want to know is how the fuck did you carry all those?”

“Cryptor!” Pixal snapped, “don’t be rude! He’s obviously just very strong.”

Jay glared at Cryptor, then grabbed Lloyd’s hand and led him out of the theatre. He scanned the hallway for anyone else, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw they were alone.

“Are you okay?” he asked anxiously, “you didn’t get burned in the sun did you?”

Lloyd shook his head. “No, well, a little bit… but not very much,” he replied, “I’m alright, I promise.”

Concern washed over Jay’s features. “Shit, don’t scare me like that kid… if anyone finds out about you we’re gonna be in big trouble.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Lloyd stammered, “I shouldn’t even be here, I should just go back to the castle-“

“Lloyd!” Jay grabbed him by the shoulders, “look at me.”

He tilted Lloyd’s chin up and brushed a stray lock of hair out of his face. A tear fell down Lloyd’s cheek. “I’m sorry-“

“Stop apologizing, it’s not your fault,” Jay told him, “we’ll figure out a better solution for you soon, don’t worry.”

Lloyd choked back a sob, and nodded. “Okay.”

“Speaking of which,” Jay added, “I think I might’ve found something you might like.”

He pulled out his phone, and showed him the tab he had open. Lloyd squinted as he looked at the screen. “Blood meal…?”

“Yeah! It’s dried blood powder, usually used on plants,” Jay said, pointing to the picture on the website, “I don’t exactly know how you’d eat it, but maybe you could like… add it to a smoothie? Or, I’ve heard that coconut water can be used as a blood substitute, so maybe-“

“I’m sorry, are you two talking about drinking blood?”

Jay whipped his head around to see Pixal standing behind them. She had her hands on her hips and one eyebrow arched. “What is going on here?” she demanded.

He shared a nervous glance with Lloyd, and then chuckled wearily. “Uh… hey Pix… you think you could keep a secret?”

#ninjago #lego ninjago #lloyd garmadon #ninjago lloyd #ninjago jay #ninjago kai #ninjago morro #ninjago wu #ninjago pixal #ninjago cryptor #ninjago au #vampire au #ninjago bansha

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