#tiny ficlet

(…)

Steve: And what did Eddie do? He charged into a swarm of killer bats! And now he’s turned into this!

Dustin: He saved my life!!!

Steve: He saved no one. He made a dumb call, and he got himself killed.

Dustin throws himself at Steve, but Eddie stops him with one of his wings.

Eddie: Hey, hey. Henderson, stop. Steve’s just worried about you… and mad at me. With good reason. I was dumb and reckless. I paid the price. But I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.

Steve swipes at his teary eyes and they all hug.

Dean could not be blamed for this, he really couldn’t. It was no secret to Sam that Dean liked to have sex or jerk off in the Impala, hell Sammy was the college boy between them and Dean was pretty sure he had figured out years earlier that Dean sometimes got a little hot and heavy because of the car. So yeah, the point stands - Dean could not be blamed for this. Dean would have fucked his girl anyway, maybe rub himself against the sturdy leather of her back seat or maybe the steering wheel where the parts intersected and he could fit perfectly rub against the curved corner or maybe he’d kneel in the wheelwell again and -

Dean shook his head, trying to remember what he had been doing before he got distracted. Right, yeah, Sam being the Impala while Dean had opened the glove compartment just enough fuck inside, the soft plastic cradling his- and shit, he did it again. 

He groaned loudly and threw his head back in frustration. Damnit, now he was definitely a little hard and Sam was still wearing that expression that said ‘I am pissed and disgusted but I won’t say anything and just be a little bitch’. 

“Dean-” Sam finally said after another few minutes of awkward silence while Dean tried to think of anything but his Baby that sat in the unpaved parking lot out in front of the motel room. 

“Shut up, it had nothing to do with you, Sam,” Dean immediately butted in. 

“I didn’t even say anything y-,” Sam grumbled but got cut off again. 

“It was just because of her, you know she gets me a little worked up, nothing to do with you,” Dean said and pushed away from the table they had just eaten their lunch at. 

“Oh, c’mon, Dean.”

 “Stop thinking so highly of yourself, dude, had nothing to do with you.” Dean just glared at him again before getting up. “I’m just gonna clean her, don’t know what residue you left behind.”

“Residue?” Sam spluttered, sounding indignant and Dean chuckled.

She’s a stray (of course). Will found her on the beach of the small Greek island they currently live on.

Will already has a small pack of 3 strays and Hannibal is accommodating and cares for them, of course. But he hasn’t bonded with any of them. Because he doesn’t bond with animals, or people either for that matter. Will (and Misha) being the only exceptions.

When Will brings Hestia (yet unnamed) home, he knows that this might be too much. That such a large mixed breed might be what finally makes Hannibal draw a line and say no. But she’s so sweet and it’s worth a shot. Dogs are always worth a shot.

When Hannibal agrees to meet her, all 120 lbs (50kg) of her, Will stands in the corner, quiet as a mouse, hoping against hope that this goes well.

She walks in, gracefully but with her head held high. A mix of a Great Dane and some mastiff and probably something else aswell.

She walks directly up to Hannibal, stands by his side, like they have known eachother all their lives. They glance at eachother. Hannibal strokes his large hand over her head and she gives him a big lick on his face.

Something soft, meaty and very tender, like a big bruise, blossoms into full force inside Hannibal. The laugh that comes out of him is totally unscripted, a natural reaction. Joy.

His hands reach out all on their own, touching, petting, feeling this huge warm creature that so boldly accepts him without any hesitation.

The small lonely boy that lives deep inside Hannibal knows exactly what she is. A friend. A guardian. Security and loyalty.

With eyes, just a bit shimmering from unshed tears he clears his throat.

-Hestia. Greek Goddess of the domestic hearth, the home, sacred and sacrificial fire…and family. Welcome home.

Will stands in his corner, eyes wide and hand covering his mouth, not wanting to disturb this singular and unique moment in time. Grateful beyond words that he had the privilege of watching something as profound as love at first sight between a Titan and a Goddess.

Yeah…. Yeah their relationship gets a bit rocky. Hunter just wants Belos to care about him, to love him, they’re family, and yet this human girl shows up out of nowhere and Belos is so nice to her. At least from his perspective. What gives her the right? And then Luz has the nerve to look at him with those big sad brown eyes and pity him?

and the thing is, he can’t even bring himself to hate her. She’s so nice. So kind. she’s interested in what he has to say, she teaches him Spanish, and she’s the first person who gives a fuck about him enough to worry and ask if he’s okay when he’s not. Her touch is gentle and he’s never been hugged before. It’s so nice.

He thinks to himself that as long as she doesn’t stick her nose where it doesn’t belong, they can keep being nice. Belos will reward him for being good, and Luz will be there to give him a breath of fresh air when he fails.

This is a little not-quite-drabble about Armand/Daniel and the chase years that I wrote as a writing exercise the other week and I figured I might as well share it here:

It’s an innocent enough comment, one that leaves Daniel’s lips without him even really thinking about it. Armand is obviously beautiful, with his curly auburn hair and angelic pale face. Louis had described him as such. 

But Armand looks taken aback. 

“I just mean, you’re good looking,” Daniel says, trying to recover, to make it seem as though he is not completely spellbound by that beauty, even though his breath catches every time he sees the vampire, and not entirely from terror. “That must help when you kill.” 

Armand opens his mouth as if to speak but closes it again.

Daniel fumbles for his cigarettes, clumsily bumping his glass and sloshing water all over the table. He swears softly under his breath, his neck and cheeks flushing as he realizes the vampire is staring at him. He lights his cigarette and ignores the mess, trying to think of something else to say to save the conversation. He’s been traveling non-stop for three days and his mind is blank, exhaustion making the edges of his thoughts fuzzy. 

“Is it my beauty you wish to speak of or my deadly prowess?” Armand finally asks, a sinister smile dancing on his lips. 

He’s toying with Daniel the way a cat toys with a mouse. And even still, Daniel is relieved he hasn’t left. Strange how he works so hard to escape Armand but never wants him to go once he appears. They have the oddest conversations but Daniel enjoys them, and he always feels a little empty when the nights are over. 

Armand leans across the table, so close Daniel can smell a hint of cologne on him. “Unlike your friend Louis, I have no qualms about killing.”  

Here’s something I started about ten million years ago. 😁 Rough and unpolished but there ya go, man (channeling Robert’s American accent). ♥️

As the car turned down the latter part of the drive, he caught sight of her. Heavily pregnant, she was kneeling next to Bella, straightening the flower in her hair. Robert basked in the precious moment, so proud, so excited and expectant … his growing family. The thought vanished as her eyes suddenly shut, her brow creasing as she gripped her side and tummy. He could tell she was gritting her teeth. Oh, fuck. With Bella’s help, she stood, ushering the little girl toward the house as she struggled to follow. Bloody hell. He’d wanted to surprise her, coming home early from the tour, but the surprise was his. He clutched the door handle as the car slowed to a stop. “Christ, Jeff, she’s about to … Stay here!” Robert flew from the sedan.

“What, mate?” Jeffrey asked, jumping from the driver’s side.

“I think she’s in labor,” Robert called out as he rushed down the embankment, nearly tripping. Short of breath and heart hammering, he pushed through the door. “Belle! Belle, are you okay? Are you-”

“Oh, Robert, thank God, I was hoping you’d be back.” Michelle fell against him. “This is it, honey.”

Lifting her in his arms, he clasped Bella’s hand. “Let’s go, love. Jeff’s got the car.”

“Bella, grab my bag, babe, alright?” Annabelle dutifully slung the overnight bag across her shoulder, trying her best to keep up with her father, who was scrambling down the walk. “Robert, slow down. Bella can’t keep up. My bag’s too heavy.” Robert spun around and froze, glancing back and forth between his wife and daughter. The mix of confusion and panic etched on his face elicited a chuckle from Michelle, but it was short lived, replaced by a groan as another contraction set in.

“I’ve got it.” Jeff gently lifted the bag from Bella’s shoulder, depositing it in the car as the family settled in the back seat. “Where do I go?” He peered at the rattled singer, swallowing a snicker. He’d never seen Robert so completely discombobulated. He was met with a blank face and wide eyes … a deer in headlights.

“Take a left out of the driveway. That’s a start,” Michelle murmured, exhaling slowly. “Robert can tell you the rest.”

The trip to the hospital only took fifteen minutes, but it felt like a lifetime. Robert paced nervously, still vexed about being escorted out of the delivery room. At least he had Jeffrey. And Bonzo. I guess, he mused, studying his boisterous friend.

“Here you go, mate. Bottoms up!”

Bonzo passed Robert a paper cup, tapping it with his own. The singer sniffed the brown liquid swirling inside of it, recoiling as the drummer downed his portion in one fell swoop. “What is this?”

“Mother’s milk,” Bonzo replied, cackling. He reached into his coat pocket, fishing out a well worn flask. “Don’t tarry. Get on with it. Let’s have another round. Pat won’t be back for a bit.”

“I can protect you here..” I shook my head, it hurt to look at him. His once soft blue eyes had become a harsh yellow and red. Nothing like him before, even with the same face it was hard to recognise the man.