#I know they told Colton he wasn’t going to get a big story and that’s why he left | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xylem-3-keys · 5 months

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Closing his Career

Hey guys! Haven't been posting much due to art block. But I wrote this story inspired by some horror movies I've watched recently on YouTube, so here is the series of the first part of the story! My TTTE AU will be explained further in the future. This story is also on my Wattpad, but I will happily present this to my non Wattpad users.

TW // Gore, violence, death, and mentions of cannibalism.

His name was Colton, the middle aged Scottish controller of railway 3803, was one of the most aggressive, ruthless and strict controllers that any human being would dare to come across even if they had to work for ten to twelve hours a day with no paychecks and no visiting their families. He referred to his vulnerable workers as slaves because he enjoyed giving them the most torturous punishments. Worst of all, after he ordered for some slaves to get executed, he would order his guards he admired to cut out the insides from the victims’ flesh to use it as cooked food for him and his guards for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Some slaves wish that he would disappear for the rest of their life. But that couldn't happen due to the strict rules he has made for his railway. No human would ever come across him because if either one of them do, they will feel his wrath and end up being executed by gun fire which is why the slaves in his building were so vulnerable and too afraid to ever talk back. With all of Colton's unforgivable despicable actions being done throughout his career, the truth be told when he finds something very suspicious in his prison hotel, he may face his demise and confess his sins.

At 8:57 in the morning, the sounds of rain pelting on top of the rooftop walls, and windows of Colton's building, especially around the environment, grew louder and louder. He was sitting in his office (located on the fifth floor, so he felt much safer just in case his hotel was raided) behind his desk while drinking coffee and working on his papers for the leader of Korrel to keep his railway running. Slaves were in their uniforms already at work outside of the prison ready to pull heavy wagons of full coal bags to big pickup trucks. But inside the prison, there were sounds of a few slaves being punished by torture echoing sounds across the hallways which was music for his ears, but it wasn’t his time listening to the sounds of torture. He kept his eyes on his paperwork laying on his desk. As he was writing with his pen as his hand shook a little, the volume of the footsteps increased towards the office door then a knock on the door was heard.

“Come in,” Colton called without bothering to stare at the door. A guard opened the door and walked in, not bothering to ask what his controller was doing with his paperwork and instead, he told him the news which would shock him.

“Sir, we git a problem here which yer not going te like.”

“Well what is it you want te talk about?” Colton asked rudely, putting his pen in his metal cup. “It better not be a waste of mah time.”

The guard took a deep breath and said, “Slave 57647 has escaped, sir.”

Colton paused then looked up at the guard in disbelief. His surprised expression gradually changed to anger. “ESCAPED?! WHAT THE HELL DO YA MEAN HE ESCAPED?! WHEN DID THAT HAPPENED?!” He screamed on top of his lungs and he banged once on his desk, leaving a few papers flying off his desk and small drips of coffee from his mug landed on one of his papers.

He flinched as he took one small footstep back but quickly responded, “Ah just don't know how sir, it looks like no one has witnessed him escaping last night. All I know is that 57646 has moved but it seems like ah heard footsteps from-”

“AH DON'T WANT TAE HEAR YA FUCKING EXCUSES! NOW GET OUT N GET BACK TE WORK WHEN I'M GOING TAE PHONE TOPHAM WHO ORDERED 57646!” He cut off the guards sentence, refusing to hear any of his side of the story and just pointing his finger at him standing up off of his chair. The guard said nothing, and left the office.

“Stupid piece of worthless shite!” Colton said angrily as he sat back down, and dialed Sir Topham Hatt’s phone number waiting impatiently, “I will have him executed in the most brutal way possible! ANSWER DE FUCKING PHONE NOW!”

“Hello?” The man in the black suit named Gregory picked up the phone and responded in a polite manner.

“WHERE DA FUCK IS 57647?! HE ESCAPED MY MANSION LAST NIGHT AND TELL ME DAT YE HAVE HIM RIGHT NOW!” The controller screamed on the phone, demanding an answer from the man who ordered 57646.

“Oh my God Colton, calm down! What on EARTH are you talking about?!” He asked after he flinched, not expecting the hoarse aggressiveness he had to deal with.

“DIDN'T YA ORDERED 57646 YESTERDAY!?”

“Of course I did but there are two identical twins who lost their numbers on their way to my island. They both have the same similar haircuts when they got here!”

“YA CANNAE BE FUCKING SERIOUS RIGHT NOW! THERE WAS 57647 WHO HAD A LONG HAIR BEFORE N’ YA BETTER SEND HIM BACK TO KORREL RIGHT THIS INSTANT!”

“Listen! I will have to hang up if you keep yelling on the phone because you aren't helping this situation! Look I'm going to figure this out and call you when I send back 57647 but I don’t know which one! You'll have to wait.” Colton paused but became annoyed after hearing what Topham has explained to him. He took his time to think about what he had to say.

He began to calm down but groaned for his opinion on Gregory’s situation with the twins. “Ugh… Fine. Ya better not forget about this ya hear me?!”

“It won’t be forgotten sir, and for now I gotta go back to work. I'll call you when I tell you more updates about…uhm…574647 you’re talking about..”

“Alright…” Colton and Gregory both had hung up the phone and he took his time to calm himself down and finished drinking his coffee. He got off his chair then picked up a few papers that fell from his desk earlier and placed them back where they belong. He finally sat back down and went back to work on his papers.

“Ah hope he’s nit lying” He thought. The controller held a grudge when it comes to twins. Whenever he sees a set of twins he orders them to have different haircuts. Like one twin was ordered to have short hair, and the other was going to have long hair. Or either one of them was ordered to have straight or curly hair to avoid all the confusion for the guards and himself.

A few minutes passed by as the weather slowed down the pouring rain. He kept focused on his paperwork until he heard footsteps of the guard heading towards the office door. On the entrance of the door, there was a mailbox hanging at the door where guards can freely share their experiences on their jobs.The guard put the mail inside the mailbox and called his controller to let him know that the mail is here. Colton stopped working for a moment and went towards the mailbox to see what was in the envelope. He took the envelope, went back to his seat and opened it which turned out to be a letter from guard A923.

It read, “I’ve been keeping quiet about this strange situation happening in this prison hotel, but I feel like it is time to get things off my chest. Colton, I don’t blame you for not believing me and that’s okay and hear me out. I was seeing two dark ghostly figures every time a few guards and I were patrolling the halls. I asked them if they saw those figures but they didn't believe me. They told me I was just hallucinating but when I saw their faces it looked familiar somehow. They both looked like a couple who died many years ago in this place. Hell, I even hear whispers of their voices, telling me that they won’t forget nor forgive. It only lasted a few seconds until they vanished. I felt like I’m being haunted by these ghosts. You can call me anytime to your office sir. I hope to see you there. - Guard A923.”

“Ghost?” Colton lifted an eyebrow while holding the letter in his hand, shaking softly. “Wit was he writing aboot? Ah guess ah’ll have te call him later during lunch break.” As he was done reading, he placed his letter back in the letters drawer where he had kept his previous letters by guards.

The clock struck twelve in the afternoon as the slaves were getting their bread while guards patrol the hallways to keep them in order. They all begin walking towards their room cells for a ten minute break without anyone speaking to each other and instead whispering to each other. But a few were being tortured for their smallest mistakes by tripping themselves or accidentally dropping their bread then got dragged to the torture cells and facing their brutal punishments as their screams in agony again, echoed through the hallway.

Guard A923 who was on lunch duty and the one who sent the controller the letter about two mysterious ghosts, received a call to his surprise on his handheld transceiver. He picked up his HT and answered that Colton reported him to his office. He headed his way as the other guards moved out of their ways to let A923 through. He went through the elevator door which only guards are allowed to use, and pressed button 5 then the elevator lifted away. During his lift, he kept an eye on the rectangular screen which counted from one to five. But he felt uneasy and worried about what his boss would say about his letter. Would he scream at him, scolding him over making up a story? Would he be sympathetic? That answer will definitely be a no. Or would he have a discussion on the case and investigate it when the story was confirmed to be true? These were what came into his mind as he became nervous. The elevator had stopped on the fifth floor when the doors opened and he walked out and headed to the office door. He took his time as he stood in front of the door, took a deep breath and gently knocked on the door.

“Come in.” Colton responded while eating cooked human liver. A923 opened the office door, seeing his controller on his desk. “Come on sit. Ah would like te have a word wit ye.”

“Coming sir.” He said, taking an extra chair next to the wall which Colton didn't mind, placed it in front of his desk and hesitantly sat down. “So what ‘ghost couple’ are ye even talking about? When was te last time ya discovered it?”

He paused for a moment keeping his mouth shut including his lips, with little adrenaline flowing through his face slowly. “It was right before ah wrote mah letter Sir. Ah wasnae feeling any good when mah head hurts from these hallucinations of these two ghosts. Ah think they're in here sir. I could hear their voices in mah head.”

“I see. but te tell ye what, ah don't believe in ghosts. If yer havin’ these problems, it's nea mine te deal wit it. Go take some pills, and-”

“But sir, I saw them n’ ah would suggest security cameras placed in ya hallways!” A923 cut off his sentence which is a big mistake he has made, suggesting the solution to figure out what was going on.

“HOW DARE YE NOT LET ME FINISH MY SENTENCE! WE CANNAE AFFORD THEM FROM MASSA BECAUSE DIS REGION IS FUCKING POOR! THERE ARE NO GHOSTS IN HERE SO GET THE FUCK OUT NOW!” He screamed standing up and banging on his desk again. The guard flinched, regretting his decisions and walked away in paranoia to avoid bigger consequences and never speak with him again. He didn't know that his boss did not believe in ghosts. Almost all the guards didn't know that Colton didn't believe in ghosts because he didn't tell his men but they know as well that ghosts are not “real.”

Colton has anger issues generally but when it comes to guards screwing up their jobs, like interrupting on what he is saying, or disagreeing with his stupid decisions, he would snap at them aggressively but they were sure as hell lucky to be alive. However, when it comes to guards turning against their boss such as sabotaging their duties, they would become dead by Colton's orders and become frozen meat in the kitchen's freezer along with the other former slaves' flesh and organs, which is why the guards follow the rules and take orders from the controller to never underestimate him.

After the door was closed, A923 chose to head towards the staircase but before he walked down the steps two ghostly figures stood on the other side of the hallway he looked back at them and they right away disappeared. Even though A923 felt their sense coming his way, he wouldn't dare to come back to Colton's office to get yelled at so he went down the stairs to head back to his lunch duty. He thought maybe Colton was right. Ghosts “aren't real” and he must’ve been imagining things. Without losing his sanity, he went on doing his own job.

While Colton, who had already sat back down on his chair for his paperwork while finishing his cooked meal, noticed his old computer turning on all by itself from the sound of pressing the power button, leading to his desktop homepage with only a dark gray and black wallpaper. With all the files remaining there normally, there was one text document which was named, “untitled.” He didn't remember making that document when he was on his PC, but he grabbed his mouse and double clicked on the file to read it for his own will while pushing his glasses’ bridge to his radix to get a better read for the text document.

The text read, “Hello Colton. Do you remember us? Don’t delete this document now because if you’re reading this, we are in your prison hotel. Why do you ask? You will see. It was just the beginning.” He wasn’t affected by this message at all and didn’t think much of it because he thought this might be a glitch when he knew the computer turned on by itself. His PC wasn’t important to use so he deleted the text document and turned off his console and went back to work, minding his own business and hoped that it won’t happen again.

At three AM in the morning, everyone drifted to sleep except the night guards who were ordered to patrol the hallways to prevent any slaves from escaping the prison. Colton, who wasn’t having his normal sleep, had dark visions in his head while his eyes were closed. He saw a ghost couple standing, staring at him in his nightmare as they drifted closer and closer and closer to his vision.

“...wake up…” One ghost softly whispered to Colton. “...Wake up.” Colton immediately opened his eyes after hearing a loud whisper in his dream. Then he paused when he heard his computer turning on.

“That-... That can’t be…” He said, slowly sitting up on his bed and lifting the blanket off his body. But his rage limit increased as he thought that someone had snuck into his office, so he rushed out of his bedroom (which was right next to his office) to his office, opening the door. “WHOEVER SNUCK IN MAH OFFICE WILL GET-” His sentence stopped as he was shocked seeing his computer turned on again. But he was sure lucky that no one woke up because he was all alone in his fifth floor hallway.

He walked towards his desk and stared at the desktop homepage which added another text document that time titled, “don't forget.” He placed his palm on his mouse, and double clicked on the document.

“You shouldn't have deleted the previous text document Colton. We're just getting things started.” He this time didn't delete the document. Instead he left it there and exit out of the note, worried that his PC will create another text file again. Before he was about to shut off his computer, the screen already went off by itself which made Colton confused, but he was too tired to investigate his console any further so he head back to his bedroom and head back to sleep, covering himself with his blanket.

Colton drifted himself to sleep, then two ghost figures which was a husband and a wife, watches him in front of his bed and vanishes into the dark.

#ttte au #horror story #literature #au fanfiction #my writing #my artz

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uvobreakmylegs · 3 years

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Haze

i saw a meme and it made me want to write a Morel piece. then @ramwrites suggested making him a banshee and i loved it

i have definitely bastardized banshee lore but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do for a story

Warnings: manipulation, mentions of death

A hiking trip up to a nearby mountain trail had been on a list of things to do for you and your friend group for a while. Your friend Denali had suggested it, and she assured you all that it wouldn't be anything too difficult; it was just a beginner's trail that would consist of a few hours of walking up the trail and back. And then maybe you all could grab some food after.

You were pretty excited for it, as the idea sounded refreshing to you. Another thing that added to the anticipation of the hike was the fact that it had also been a little while since everyone in the friend group had been able to hang out together.

Or more accurately, it had been a while since you were able to make it to one of these friend meetups.

Some kind of bad luck had been plaguing you recently; the last few times an outing for the four of you had been planned, something unexpected came up for you and you needed to cancel last minute. Be it work obligations, family emergencies or just you getting sick the night before, it had been a while since you hung out with them like you once had.

Aiden, Denali and Colton all seemed to take it well, but you swore you could sense a growing annoyance in them. They seemed to be shorter with you in texts, and there had been a few times now that you'd sent a picture or said something in the group chat and it had been ignored. You worried that they were starting to think you were making up excuses instead of genuinely being unable to see them, but every time you tried to talk with them privately, they told you that there wasn't anything wrong and that you were just overreacting.

That hadn't made you feel any better. You just felt like a bad friend.

But today would be different.

You made a point to ensure that you had the day completely cleared for the hike, getting the day off from your work well in advance and doing your best to stay away from anything that might make you sick. The morning of your friends had all confirmed that it was still on, and after a little while they were going to rendezvous at your place to pick you up before you all headed out to the trail.

Things were going to be different today, and you were excited for it.

And things were different.

But maybe not in a way that you had expected.

You didn't notice the second car that had pulled up behind Denali's initially when they stopped outside your place. You only noticed that something was different when you approached Denali's car and noticed that one of the seats in the back had been taken up by a pile of backpacks, leaving no room for you.

When Aiden stepped out of the first car as you came out to greet him, he explained the situation. Without your knowledge, Aiden had invited someone from his work, a woman named Fawn. Evidently during those times when you couldn't make it, your friends had been hanging out with her a lot, and they had figured that she should be invited on this trip as well.

That they were hanging out with other people didn't upset you; they had every right to spend their time with people that were able to show up. But you felt slightly hurt that you hadn't been asked or even given a heads-up that this was happening. You had been anticipating spending time with your old friend group for this trip and instead you would be trying to reconnect while also navigating a new group dynamic.

But you decided not to say anything about it. You just nodded and smiled when Aiden told you that you'd be riding with Fawn in her car. Although it was unexpected, you told yourself that new people wasn't necessarily a bad thing. You could probably make good friends with her while also berating yourself for your first reaction to her being disappointment. That sort of attitude was no good.

Despite all of that, you quickly came to feel that you didn't like Fawn very much.

For one thing, the woman was one of the most reckless drivers you had ever come across. Virtually blowing through stop signs, running several lights and swerving around drivers that she felt weren't going fast enough, there were several times during the trip that you felt she was going to cause an accident. She also passed by Denali's car for some reason, and when you asked her why, she said she thought it would be fun to see who could get to the mountain first. You didn't agree, but there was literally nothing you could do but hold onto the inside of the passenger side door for dear life. The motion sickness you'd gotten was so bad that by the time you made it to the parking lot next to the hiking trail, you'd needed to lean against the side of her car and take in deep breaths in an attempt to not throw up your breakfast.

At least she seemed pretty apologetic when she saw you like that, and she offered you a bottle of water which you gladly took. But the second Denali's car pulled up she seemed to switch her focus to that completely, going up to the rest of the group to greet them. She had something of a one-track mind, it seemed. It didn't make her a bad person, but you still wanted a bit of distance for now.

After recovering and making sure you had everything you needed in your backpack, you approached Aiden while the others were getting ready.

“Hey,” you said, “you think you and I could switch places for the car ride back?”

“Oh c'mon, it couldn't have been that bad,” he said, “you'll hurt her feelings if you do that. She really wants to know you.”

Fawn walked up right after, and since you weren't willing to criticize her driving right in front of her, you dropped it.

Meanwhile the mountain loomed above all of you. Tall and imposing with a rather dense white fog that almost obscured the very top of it. There were parts that were heavily forested, and you briefly wondered if you would need to worry about anything like bears or some other kind of large wild animal.

“How far up are we going?” you asked Denali.

“Not too far. We'll be sticking to the marked trail; there's a cool little observation deck at the end of it,” she told you, “I figure we'll head towards that and then come back the same way.”

You nodded, but before you could give any real response Colton called her over for something, and she left to help him. Aiden and Fawn were chatting about something, so you stood silent and at the ready, looking up once more at the mountain.

Despite the distance, you swore you saw something moving. You wanted to say it was some large kind of four-legged creature, though it was impossible to tell what exactly it was.

“Are there bears on the mountain?” you asked aloud.

“Nah.”

That was all the response you got.

For about ten minutes after the hike started, Fawn had stayed at the back with you, asking you some basic questions about yourself that you would in turn ask her once you had answered. You hoped that the interaction wasn't as awkward as it had felt to you. Maybe it was but she also didn't want to say anything about it.

Then when your group came across an old, crumbling well, Fawn had run up towards Aiden to get some better pictures of the structure, and when the group began to move again, she chose to stay there next to him.

Denali had taken the lead with Colton right behind. They were talking, though what they were talking about you couldn't be sure as you only caught bits and pieces of the conversation. A few steps behind them were Aiden and Fawn, talking about something that was going on at their workplace. And a few steps behind those two was you, trailing behind the group and unable to join either conversation. Although Aiden had said that Fawn wanted to know you, she hadn't said much of substance to you before she turned her attention back to him. Although maybe that was your fault. Maybe it really was obvious that you didn't care for her much. You thought that you were doing a decent job at being polite, but maybe she could tell that you were still a bit annoyed about her driving earlier.

Or maybe she just wanted to talk to Aiden right now and you were overreacting again.

You weren't sure.

It just felt like you were being excluded.

Of course. The first time in forever that you were able to make it to a meet-up with them, and it felt like you weren't wanted.

You sighed to yourself as you walked behind silently, trying to tell yourself that it was unreasonable to be thinking like that and that you wouldn't have been invited if they didn't want you there. The hike had just started; you couldn't decide that the whole thing would be bad just because of a rough beginning.

At least for now you could enjoy the scenery, and you looked about the woods as you walked along the trail, noting the different types of trees and plants and just how many of them surrounded you as you walked by on the trail. You stopped now and then to take a few pictures with your phone. Although you could hear the distinct chirping of birds in the distance, you didn't manage to see any, and despite the movement you thought you had seen while in the parking lot, it didn't seem like there were any other animals in the area. Denali had said this was an easy trail; maybe people frequented it enough that most animals avoided any areas close to it. That was too bad, but not that big of a deal. At least you were still getting nice pictures of the forest.

Your group came across a wide set of wooden stairs with a wooden barrier on either side after a bit, beginning a steeper ascent towards the higher parts of the mountain. Nothing had really changed within the group, though you noted that the conversations had mostly died down in an effort to appreciate the nature around you. Colton was also frequently looking behind to make sure everyone was still there. The two of you managed to lock eyes at one point, and you smiled at him. He gave back something of a half-smile before looking back in front of him. Maybe it was just a coincidence, but you noted that he didn't look back after that.

The walk continued, and all of you were quiet now, looking about the scenery. Some of them occasionally made remarks whenever they spotted something unusual, like an oddly shaped tree trunk or rock. You stayed silent, though, remembering your messages that had gone ignored and worried that if you said anything, that would be ignored as well.

Were you being too anxious about this? Probably. You sighed to yourself again as you tried to keep those kinds of thoughts from running amok.

Just distract yourself by looking around, you told yourself.

You paused when you glanced over to your right.

It looked like there was some sort of stone pillar standing in the distance. The dark rock was covered in moss and vines, but the shape was such that it couldn't have been a natural formation. Someone human had put it there some time ago. It also looked as though there was similar wreckage behind the pillar, and you wondered if it may have once been some kind of building.

Taking out your phone and pulling up the camera, you zoomed in on the the ruined structure. You briefly glanced over to your friends as you did, making sure they weren't leaving you too far behind.

But when you looked back to the phone, you let out a small sound of surprise.

There was a man standing by the pillar.

Your eyes immediately went back to the pillar as you wondered where this guy had come from.

The shadows over in that area made things a bit darker, but you were able to see a general shape that looked like a person. You squinted slightly as you looked at him, trying to make out any details. But strangely, you couldn't. It was just the shape of a rather broad man, and as you continued to look, you found that it looked almost wispy, like a few pieces of cloud had floated down and arranged themselves to imitate what a person might look like.

…. Why did it feel like it was looking back at you?

“What are you doing?”

Aiden's voice called to you, and you snapped out of your stupor to find that the whole group was standing there waiting on you.

Your mouth fell open to try and offer some explanation, to tell them about what you were looking at, but when you glanced back to where the shape had been-

He wasn't there.

And when you looked back to the camera, you found he was gone from there as well.

Had you imagined it?

The entire thing had happened within mere seconds. The pillar wasn't large enough that he could be hiding behind it, and no one could move that fast without making some bit of noise. Looking between the view from your camera and the pillar a few more times, you decided that you had imagined it. Though you were certain you had seen something standing there, there was no way that could have actually been the case. Maybe a shadow just looked weird within the lighting at that moment?

Aiden called out to you again.

“Sorry!” you called out, putting the phone away as you hurried up the stairs to rejoin them.

“What you were looking at?” Fawn asked you.

“Something back there,” you explained, “ it looked like there were some ruins of a building.”

“Oh, did you get a picture? Can I see?”

“Ah, sorry, I didn't.”

Fawn pouted, asking “why not?”

“I thought I saw someone.”

They both looked at you strangely.

“You couldn't get a picture because you thought you saw someone?” Aiden asked.

“I don't know. It was just weird,” you said, getting a bit flustered as you continued “I thought I saw a guy for a second – or something that looked like a guy – but then he was gone.”

“... 'Something' that 'looked' like a guy,” Aiden repeated.

“Oh wow, I didn't know you could see ghosts!” Fawn exclaimed, giggling a little, “we've got a coworker who swears that the printer room is haunted. Maybe we should bring her here and see if she also sees something.”

…. You weren't sure if she was making fun of you or not, so you stayed silent. Aiden was still looking at you like you had two heads while Fawn was pulling out her own phone, preparing to walk back down to take a look at the ruins herself. Then Denali called out to the three of you, asking what the hold-up was. That was enough to spur you to begin walking again.

“Aw, I wanted to get a picture,” Fawn said as you began climbing the stairs once more.

Fawn then looked to Aiden as he said to her “we can always snap a picture on the way back.”

“That's true.”

“And did Nell say that the printer room was haunted? I thought she said it was the third floor bathroom,” Aiden then said.

“It could've been both. According to her a lot of places are haunted. Something about weird energies,” Fawn responded.

They were talking about something from their work again, and since you still had no way to join in, you walked behind them in silence. As your group continued the ascent, you glanced behind to see if there was anything weird with the pillar from this angle. There was a nagging feeling at the back of your mind, and you felt as if there was someone watching you.

There was nothing, and though the feeling wasn't going away, you told yourself to forget about it.

Time passed as the clouds parted some to show how the sun had moved higher in the sky, and your group came to a wooden platform with benches and tables that were clearly meant as a rest stop for any hikers. The others decided that it was a good time to have lunch and settled themselves at a table. You, on the other hand, were still feeling some side effects from Fawn's driving earlier, and as you really didn't want to get sick in the middle of the hike, you opted not to eat. You sat with them at first, but when you once again felt like you couldn't contribute to the conversation, you stood up, the amateur photographer in you feeling fulfilled somewhat as you snapped a few more pictures of the scenery.

You wandered over to a different part of the platform, leaning your elbows on the wooden fencing as you looked out at the forest.

At the beginning of your trip it had been fairly overcast, and only after you had started this excursion had the clouds thinned and allowed the sun to shine through. But just as the weather started to clear up, it seemed to be turning overcast again as a mist began to fall, seemingly sliding from the top of the mountain and through the thick forest of trees. Was rain a possibility? Maybe, and of course you hadn't brought anything with you if that did happen. You had made a point to bring a first aid kit in case either you or someone else got hurt, but nothing to protect you in case the weather turned bad.

A flash of white caught your eye while you were caught up in your thoughts.

Glancing to your left, you found yourself staring at a white rabbit.

It was nice to finally see some wildlife for the first time since this hike had started and at first glance it seemed perfectly normal. But the more you looked at it, the more.... Odd it seemed.

It was sitting upright facing away from you, not moving at all. That didn't seem quite normal, since you thought most rabbits were inclined to hunker down and try to blend in with their surroundings if they encountered something they thought was a threat. This one didn't seem to be hiding, it just sat still, and the more you looked, the more it didn't seem like it was even breathing. It also seemed strange to find a pure white rabbit up in the mountains. The color was striking against the earthly tones of the forest, and presumably that should've meant that it would have been easy prey for any natural predators that roamed the area. In fact, it didn't look the slightest bit dirty, making you wonder if it was someone's pet that had escaped.

And the more you looked at it, the more something about it just seemed to be off. Like it had some kind of weird energy to it.

And yet you felt an urge to get closer to it.

The instant you moved closer it reacted by twisting it's head around to face you, and you saw it's face for the first time.

Or rather, it's lack of one.

No eyes, no nose, no mouth, no sort of features whatsoever. It's face, and the rest of it for that matter, was completely blank, and it seemed less and less like a living creature the longer you looked at it.

You stared at it, unsure of how you were supposed to react to such a thing.

“The rabbit doesn't have a face,” you said aloud.

Your friends didn't hear you. In their defense, you hadn't spoken all that loudly.

When you moved again it bolted, vanishing behind surrounding tree trunks.

Follow it

Maybe it was because of the shock you felt at seeing that thing that you didn't even question the thought. You just climbed over the fencing and headed out in the same direction you had seen it run off to.

It wasn't long before you caught sight of it again, and once more you were struck by how odd this thing was. It was sitting up again, staring at you. Almost like it was waiting for you.

Did you really want to follow a faceless rabbit into the woods? Apparently you did, because when you got close again it ran off, and the process repeated itself as it began to lead you through the forest, taking you further and further away from the hiking trail and down an unmarked path. The rabbit never got too far before it would stop and wait for you to catch up, and it stayed still during the few times that you would pause for a break. It really was waiting for you, and somehow, it didn't seem like it was running in any random direction. More like it was leading you somewhere.

A haze had seemed to form in your mind. Somehow, none of this seemed questionable to you, that you were running off in pursuit of a white rabbit like a heroine from a Lewis Carroll book. Or at least some darker version of that tale given the rabbit's lack of a face which you still weren't able to make sense of. There was no reason for you to be running off of the trail like this, into terrain that you weren't familiar with, but every time you caught sight of the rabbit, something inside you told you that you needed to go after it.

You did just that for some time until the haze finally broke.

In the midst of your pursuit, you happened to step on a hollow, rotted log, and the wood was weak enough that when you put your weight on it, your foot went right through. You shrieked, stumbling forward as you desperately pulled your foot out. To add to your panic, there had been a fair amount of bugs living inside of the log, some of which had attached themselves to your shoe, and you kicked your foot out rapidly to get them off of you. They scattered, and you stumbled back before landing awkwardly on your ankle. Pain shot through you, and you fell against the trunk of a tree where you sank to the forest floor, one hand steadying yourself while the other was over your chest as you tried to calm yourself down.

What the hell am I doing?

The thought struck you. Why had you gone off the trail like this? And for some weird rabbit creature, of all things? What was the point of this excursion? What if you got hurt?

You put some weight on the foot that had gone through the log and you hissed as another sharp bolt of pain hit you.

Scratch that. You'd already managed to hurt yourself.

It seemed like your ankle was sprained. Clearly you had landed on it wrong after getting your foot out of the log.

Ah, this was the worst.

You gingerly removed your shoe and tried to get a look at the damage. It didn't look too bad yet, but there was definitely something wrong with it as you only felt pain every time you moved it. How fast does the swelling set in? At least you'd had the forethought of bringing a few rolls of elastic bandage wraps, though you felt like you'd need some help to get it properly wrapped.

Which meant you'd need to find your way back to your friends.

How far away were you from the trail by now? You weren't even sure how much time had passed since you had left them. It was all so strange, that you had gotten such extreme tunnel vision like that and had run off. And because of that, you had gotten hurt and would have a hard time making your way back, or else they would need to come in to find you.

They'd be upset with you, wouldn't they?

You probably wouldn't be able to continue the hike, and you were sure there'd be some resentment if this outing was cut short because of you. Maybe you could just wait at the rest area? They'd be coming down the same path when they came back, so maybe they could continue the hike and you could rest up and join them on the return trip. It'd be boring for you but then at least the trip wouldn't be a waste for them.

You sighed as you began to shimmy your shoe back onto your foot. Today was a bust. First the thing with Fawn, then the way it seemed like you were being ignored, and now this.

They hadn't even said anything when you jumped the fence to chase after the rabbit, had they? Not that you'd really been paying attention, so maybe they had, but they sure hadn't gone after you.

… Not that it was on them to look after you. You were an adult and therefore not their responsibility. It was wrong to think like that.

You sighed again.

Everything that had happened today really had been your own fault, huh? It was all you could do to hope nothing else bad would happen.

You remembered some old superstitious saying about bad things happening in threes. If that was true, then maybe your bad luck was over for the day.

Trying to get off of that particular train of thought, you looked about for something that could work as a walking stick, something strong enough to hold your weight for when you made your way back to the path.

A voice called out from far away, and when you paused to listen, you heard the voices of your friends calling out your name.

That was actually really good.

A new creeping fear was that you would be lost in the woods and have a hard time finding the path, but as long as they were calling out to you, you could use the sounds of their voices to find your way back. As you were about to push yourself to your feet, you allowed yourself to be a little hopeful, feeling that the bad things were done for the day.

You heard something then, as though something had dropped onto the ground next to you.

In an automatic response, you turned your head towards the sound and found a pipe laying atop the dirt and fallen leaves.

Had that been there earlier?

It was moderately sized, a black stem with a little bit of intricate gold detailing on either end, while the bowl at the end of the pipe was more of a darker bronze.

Wouldn't you have noticed this earlier? Or had you been that distracted when you'd been desperately shaking all of the bugs off of your foot?

Without really thinking about why you reached out to grab it as you wondered to yourself if there were still people these days who smoked using pipes.

It was warm when your fingers made contact, and as you raised it up to inspect it more, you noted how clean it was. If it had been out here for a day or so there would've been more dirt on it, but with the state it was in, someone must have dropped it not too long ago.

At least it gave you some comfort knowing that you weren't the only one who had wandered off the trail, though you were probably still one of the dumbest to do so since you had gone off in chase of a freaky rabbit.

Should you take the pipe with you? Was there some sort of lost and found box down at the parking lot? Would the person who lost it even still be looking for it, or would they have already accepted that it was gone forever?

With those thoughts swirling around your head, you didn't notice the sound of footsteps that came closer until they stopped right next to you.

“Are you alright?”

A man's voice broke you from your thoughts, and when you turned your gaze upwards, you found an older man standing above you, leaning an arm against the same tree trunk you were resting against. White hair, a gray dress shirt with a red tie and wearing black sunglasses despite the clouds overhead, he looked down at you with a clear look of concern on his face.

“Ah – yes! Well, mostly,” you said once you realized he was waiting for an answer.

“Mostly?”

“I think I sprained my ankle.”

He knelt down next to you, asking “may I?” as he motioned to your aforementioned ankle. You nodded, and he inspected your ankle. He was gentle with you, looking over the injured area carefully and apologizing any time he caused you some discomfort.

“How bad is it?” you asked him after a moment.

“I'd say you were right. It looks sprained.”

You groaned a little, disappointed that you were correct.

“Do you have anything to wrap it with?” he asked.

“Yeah, in my backpack,” you answered, “I was gonna get my friends to help me with it once I got back to them.”

“Where are they?”

“Back by the path, I think. It sounded like they were looking for me just now.”

However, you could no longer hear them. In fact, the whole forest seemed oddly silent now, the only exception being the wind that would at times whistle through the trees. And had it gotten darker?

“That's weird,” you said more to yourself, “I know I heard them.”

The man who sat patiently before you, with your ankle still in his care, looked about for any sign of your friends before he spoke again.

“Well, I'm here now,” he told you, “care if I patch you up instead?”

“Um, as long as it isn't too much trouble?”

He smiled at you.

“It's no trouble at all.”

Saying that it would be easier for him to work on you, the man carefully picked you up and moved you so that you sat on a nearby boulder, kneeling down in front of you again as he waited for you to fish out the bandages from your pack.

“I'm Morel, by the way.”

You gave him a small smile in return, introducing yourself as well as you handed off the bandages.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked as he began to wrap up your ankle.

“Hiking with friends.”

“I figured that much,” he said, grinning a little, “but the trail is a good distance from here. How did you end up off of it?”

“Ah....”

Despite the pain in your ankle and the circumstances between you and your friends, it hadn't been lost on you that Morel was pretty handsome. A bit rugged, but in a good way. And though you knew nothing about this man – for all you knew he had a wife and child at home waiting for him – you didn't want to say something that might make him think you were an idiot. Telling him that you had gone chasing after a rabbit would definitely make him think you were an idiot.

And you didn't want to mention that you thought it had no face. Then he'd think you were crazy.

“I saw some ruins down at the base of the mountain; thought it'd be cool if I went exploring and see if I could find some more,” you lied.

“Unfortunately, any ruins would be down at the bottom. Nobody would've built anything this far up,” Morel explained.

“Ah, I see.”

You stayed quiet a moment, looking back in the direction where you'd heard your friends calling. You still couldn't hear them, and it worried you that something may have happened.

There was also that white mist from earlier that had grown thicker while Morel wrapped your ankle, slowly settling down around you and making the scene around you look more ethereal.

“Why did you wander out on your own? One of them should've come with you,” Morel said suddenly.

“Oh.... I kinda, um, ran off without telling them anything.”

So much for not sounding like an idiot.

Morel paused, glancing back up at you as he asked “did something happen?”

“... Not really? I mean, kind of, but...” you trailed off for a moment, “it's mostly my fault. I'm the one who isn't trying hard enough to talk it out with them. Ah, I really hope I haven't ruined this trip.”

“I doubt you running off could've ruined it.”

“I hope not. But still, I'll need to apologize, maybe take all of them out for a meal after to make up for it,” you said.

There was a sad expression on Morel's face when he looked up at you after you said that. Something in the way he frowned and his brows furrowed at your words made it seem like he knew something you didn't.

You didn't get a chance to question him on it as he finished up wrapping your ankle, handing the remaining bandages back to you as he announced “all done.”

“Ah – Thank you.”

He seemed a bit more cheerful now, though he looked off in the direction you had been looking in.

“Those friends of your still on the trail?” he asked.

“I'm not sure? It really did sound like they were looking for me earlier.”

“I see. Then if they're looking for you maybe we should stay put. Wait for them to get to us. It won't do any good if we all get lost trying to find each other.”

That made sense, and you nodded.

Morel sat down next to you, the boulder being large enough to fit both of you, though he did need to squeeze in a bit closer than you would normally be comfortable with a complete stranger. You found that you didn't mind much, though. Although for the sake of your friend group you wanted to be found soon, you didn't dislike the idea of spending more time alone with Morel. He seemed trustworthy, and being in such close contact more than made up for all the stuff from earlier.

…. Good lord. Were you really this weak for a random guy you found attractive?

The mist seemed to be growing thicker, but you could still make out most of the trees that surrounded you.

“What are you doing up here, Morel?” you asked, “it doesn't look like you're dressed for hiking.”

“I live here.”

“Really? On the mountain?”

He nodded.

“Wow. I didn't know anybody lived up here. Is it just you or are there others?”

“There's a few of us up here, though my neighbors tend to keep to themselves,” he told you, “a lot of them just want to be left alone.”

It seemed surprising to you that there was more than one person who lived up on a mountain like this. Especially since you had been under the impression that the area was part of a park. Maybe his place had been built beforehand and he was grandfathered in somehow?

The more you thought about it, the more you felt that didn't make a lot of sense. But before you could voice that opinion, it was like the thought was forcibly torn from your mind, and something within you encouraged you to try and learn more about him.

“Are you one who wants to be left alone?” you asked him instead.

“For the most part,” he answered, “but I don't mind people on occasion. My neighbors, not so much.”

“Would they have gotten mad at me?”

“Definitely.”

“Guess I'm lucky you found me and not them,” you said.

He smiled at that, but didn't say anything, and you continued.

“Although if your neighbors want isolation, isn't it inconvenient that the trail's been set up here? Don't you have to worry about people trespassing?”

“Most people know not to go off the path,” Morel said, “though I guess you're not one of them.”

“It wasn't my fault!” you insisted, “there was a rabbit, and I just - I don't know, needed to follow it.”

Why had you done that again? You'd been questioning it before Morel found you but you'd gotten distracted. It was strange. And did the rabbit really have no face? Maybe your mind was just tired and had made it up or something and you just ran off because you were an idiot.

Where had it even gone, anyway?

Morel tilted his head, smirking at you.

“I thought you said you were looking for more ruins? You mean you were actually chasing after rabbits?” he asked.

….. You forgot that you lied.

Your fingers fiddled with the hem of your shirt while you looked away in embarrassment.

“.... I didn't want you to think I was stupid,” you mumbled.

He laughed at that, and you felt worse about your lie, turning your head away further as you made a point to not look at him.

“Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean it,” he said, one of his hands coming up to playfully tousle your hair. You glanced back at him then, and the sour look on your face lessened a little when you saw how he smiled at you.

“I've also gone off wandering after random things,” he continued, “I've hurt myself a few times, too, so don't feel bad.”

That made you feel a bit better, and you relaxed a little more.

“What kind of things have you gone wandering after?” you asked him.

“Things that you probably wouldn't believe if I told you.”

That answer was oddly cryptic, though you supposed that made two of you, since you were still too nervous to divulge the fact about the rabbit lacking a face. Maybe Morel had seen freakier things up here. But since he didn't seem to want to go into that, maybe it'd be better to steer the conversation away from the potentially supernatural.

“Were you wandering after something when you found me?” was your next question.

“No, not today. I was in the middle of looking for something I had lost.”

“Oh. Sorry,” you said.

“For what?”

“Distracting you, and making you wait here with me.”

“It's not that important,” Morel said, “and what kind of guy would I be if I left you out here by yourself? Especially with that fog that's settling in.”

“I'd probably be okay. Oh. Unless there's bears. Then I might not be.”

You remembered the shape you had seen when you had first arrived, and you asked him “are there bears on this mountain?”

“I've never seen any.”

You hummed at that, thinking again about what you had seen and trying to figure out what it was.

“Did you see one?” asked Morel.

“I don't know. I saw something weird when I was in the parking lot, and I'm still not sure what it was,” you explained, “I've seen some other stuff, too. Some a bit more freaky than a bear.”

“Like what?”

“.... Do you promise not to laugh at me?”

“I promise, I'm done laughing at you,” Morel said, grinning a little.

Despite being unsure if you could trust him in that regard, you decided to speak anyway.

“So, the rabbit that I saw earlier – I'm not really sure why I followed it, but I noticed it back at the rest area. It seemed kinda weird when I saw it, because it didn't look like it was breathing? And when I got closer, I swear, it didn't have a face. No features at all. It was just blank.”

You prepared yourself for him to laugh at you again. When he didn't say anything, you looked back to him.

Morel looked surprisingly neutral.

“That does sound strange,” was his reply.

“.... Do you believe me?”

Morel looked away from you, leaning back on his hands as his gaze seemed to go to the cloudy sky above the trees that surrounded the two of you.

“You know, I think I do. Living up here, I've had my fair share of strange occurrences. Not quite like that, but maybe I just haven't encountered that before.”

It was a relief to hear that he wasn't mocking you, and it was even more of a relief that he actually believed you, as you had been worried that his reaction might resemble what had happened earlier with Aiden and Fawn. Him believing you spurred you to speak more.

“I saw something before, too,” you said, “down near the ruins, at one point I thought I saw a man standing next to them. But when I looked up from my camera he was gone.”

“What did he look like?”

“Not sure. I saw him, but I somehow didn't really see him? Or I just saw his general shape,” you continued, “the others were joking that it was a ghost.”

“Could've been,” said Morel, “this is ancient land with a lot of older things attached to it. There are probably more than a few wayward souls that have found a home here.”

“..... Do you think they could be dangerous?” you asked him.

“Maybe some of them. But most people should be safe if they stay on the path.”

He grinned again when he looked back at you.

“Who knows. You could've come across something bad,” he said jokingly.

“Don't you and your neighbors live up here? It can't be all that bad if that's the case,” you responded, “though I think I'll try to keep from chasing after anymore weird rabbits.”

“Probably a good idea.”

A comfortable silence settled over the two of you. The mist had expanded as you continued to wait for your friends, who you hadn't heard in some time now. It should've worried you more that you couldn't hear them – they hadn't given up on you, had they? Even if they were really annoyed with you they surely wouldn't go that far. Yet you found yourself thinking even if that was the case, it would be okay. Morel was so nice, he wouldn't just leave you here if they didn't show up, right? At the very least, he'd take you back to the trail.

If your friends had bailed on you, then maybe you should repay him by taking him out to dinner.

The tops of the trees were slowly becoming more obscured as the fog continued to drift down, and all you could think was that it looked pretty.

“Is it nice living up here?” you asked him.

“Yeah, pretty nice. Lots of good scenery.”

He seemed to be thinking about something, and you noticed that his shoulders sagged slightly.

“Being completely alone can get to you, though.”

There was a sadness in his voice. He did say that him wanting to be alone was just 'for the most part'. Unless that was a lie. What sort of circumstance could drive him to be living alone in the wilderness if he didn't actually want to be here? You wanted to know, but worried that might be crossing a boundary of some sort, and that made you hesitate to question him further.

“Do you not want to be here?” you asked him softly.

“No, I do,” said Morel, “but I also liked being around people. It just became hard to be around them after a while.”

“Hard to be around them?” you repeated.

“Yeah. It's.... It's just tough to explain,” he said.

“Sorry.”

He shook his head.

“Don't worry about it.”

It confused you, and while you wanted to ask a few more questions, you got a sense that he didn't want to talk about it anymore.

You found yourself wondering if Morel suffered from some extreme form of anxiety or agoraphobia. He seemed like a pretty calm person, but maybe that was only because he was in an environment where he was comfortable. That could have made sense, although you mentally berated yourself shortly after for jumping to conclusions like that just because he didn't want to talk about it. Maybe you should try to move the topic to something else.

“Does anyone come up to visit you?” you asked.

“No.”

Ah. Okay then.

“Then...” you trailed off briefly as you tried to find the right words, “ as long as it isn't too hard to be around me, would you care if I came back to visit you? I could repay you with all you've done for me with a dinner. Maybe bring it by next week or something like that?”

Morel smiled at that, and yet to you it seemed forced. You got another sense that he knew something that you didn't, and that he was intentionally keeping that information from you.

What would he know that he'd be keeping from you?

The thought left your head just as quickly as it entered when he spoke again.

“I guess I could handle having you stop by,” he said jokingly, “you're pretty tolerable.”

“Ah, that's good. Glad to know I can at least be tolerated,” you answered back in a similar joking manner.

He chuckled at that.

“All jokes aside, it'll be nice to have some company up here,” he said softly.

It felt good that he accepted you so easily. Maybe he accepted you a little too easily given the short amount of time he had known you, but if he was living up here all by himself maybe he was just that desperate.

And the argument could also be made that you were similarly being too trusting of him. It was possible that this was just a facade of his that would drop the instant you were vulnerable. That'd probably be what Colton would tell you if he knew the thoughts going around your head.

Although you were already pretty vulnerable, weren't you? Alone in the wilderness with a man you just met and a sprained ankle, so you weren't even able to run if you needed to. Even with your friends that were hopefully close by, with Morel's size it would've been easy enough for him to drag you off if he wanted. Helping you, sitting down and waiting with you for your friends just to gain your trust seemed to be a bit too much effort if his ultimate goal was to take you away.

You forced down those silly, anxious thoughts of yours. Morel wouldn't hurt you, you were certain of it.

The mist around the two of you was growing thicker still, but you didn't pay it much mind as you looked back down to your lap.

Something was sticking out of the front pocket of your jacket, and then you remembered that you still had that pipe you had found this whole time, having absentmindedly stuck it into your pocket when Morel moved you earlier. A thought then occurred to you as you looked at it again.

“This wouldn't be yours, would it?” you asked him as you pulled it out to show him.

Looking down at it, you noted that he didn't seem too surprised as he said to you “it would, actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. That's what I was looking for when I came across you,” Morel said.

“Huh. That's some weird coincidence,” you said as you extended your hand out to give him the pipe.

“It happens,” he said. He thanked you as he took it from you, pocketing it before his hands went back to where they had been before.

There was no urgency within you as you continued to sit with Morel, the mist still swirling and settling around the two of you. The more the mist grew, the more the thoughts of your friends and the worries within you began to slip away.

You had nothing to worry about.

Had you been paying more attention to him, you would've seen Morel stiffen ever so slightly, maybe even heard him curse under his breath as he sensed something that was now in the general vicinity. But you only noticed when he stood up suddenly, hands on his hips as he turned to face you.

“Hate to say it, but this fog'll probably only get worse. I'm not sure it's a good idea to keep waiting here,” he told you.

It had seemed to become exponentially worse as soon as he spoke those words, the fog that had been fairly moderate now surprisingly thick, to the point that you had a hard time making out the trees that were closest to you. Somehow you hadn't noticed just how bad it was until now.

“Ah. Yeah, you're right,” you said, “I think I remember which direction the trail is in. I should be able to make it back on my own.”

“What – no, that's not...”

Morel was rather flustered now, a hand running through his hair as he continued “even if you can make it back there, I doubt you'll have an easy time going down those stairs with your ankle like that. And with how hard it is to see right now, there's a 100% chance that you'll end up falling.”

You nodded, though you weren't certain where he was going. It seemed like a lot to ask him to walk you back in such circumstances, and far, far too much to have him take you back down the mountain.

“Since we're not sure what happened with your friends, I think the best thing I can do is take you back to my place for the time being.”

That hadn't been what you were expecting, and you opened your mouth to second-guess that idea until he spoke again.

“Just until the fog clears,” he assured you, “and this way you can get some actual rest inside instead of sitting out in the cold like this.”

… Morel's proposal seemed a lot nicer, you had to admit.

“I guess,” you began, “as long as you're sure it isn't too much trouble.”

He smiled at you as he said “I promise, it isn't.”

Any worries that this may be overstepping some kind of boundary faded from your mind after his reassurance, and you looked about the forest again.

“I guess we should try to find something for me to use as a walking stick,” you said, squinting your eyes when the fog proved to be too thick to see clearly, “unless you're okay with me leaning on you.”

“I've got a better idea.”

With that, Morel turned around and knelt down, his arms stretched out behind his back as he said “I'll carry you.”

After assuring you that this way would be faster, it didn't take much for you to take him up on his offer. After you made sure not to put any weight on your ankle while you climbed onto his back, Morel slowly lifted you up after he had your legs secured around his waist and you loosely held on around his neck.

With the sensation of you being pressed against him, of your warmth and virtually feeling the way your heart was steadily beating against his back, Morel let out a quiet, relieved sigh as he began the trek back to his home. He was grateful that you hadn't questioned him or tried to insist that he take you back to the trail anyway. If he hadn't been able to convince you, he'd need to take you by force. Such a thing would have been easy for him to do, and it was probably more common for those like him to take their captured humans while they kicked and screamed.

But he didn't want to traumatize you during the journey to your new home.

Luckily his aura that had been slowly engulfing you was able to influence you enough that you weren't questioning him on much, so the trip would be a peaceful one, although it was marred by how dishonest he was being about all of this.

If only he could just sit you down and explain everything, why he was doing this. But he knew you wouldn't believe him.

No reasonable person would believe him if he told them he was a banshee.

Saying that would only make you feel unsafe, maybe try to run from him, and then you'd end up even more injured in the process, and even more upset when you found that you could no longer leave the mountain.

But even that would be better than the alternative.

Morel just didn't like seeing people die.

The role of a banshee was to warn when death was coming. To let out that unearthly wail so the human marked for death could prepare and make peace with their fate. For Morel, when he saw someone who was marked to die, it looked like a cloud had settled around them. An aura that grew darker and darker as the human came closer to the time of their death until the aura had blackened completely. Then Death came to collect that unfortunate's soul.

And Morel was unable to do anything but give a heads up.

It was depressing. Being part of that cycle, watching as human after human had that cloud around them turn black and vanish as it left their lifeless bodies behind. And during the last years he had spent in the heavily populated areas, he found that more and more people were panicking when they heard his warning as a fear of death had grown stronger as time had gone by. The people who feared for their lives did everything in their power to try and prevent their deaths, and more often than not their attempts to thwart death ended up being what caused it. All because they had heard his warning.

It began to feel as though he was the one responsible for those who had died that way, and that felt even more depressing, to know that they had died because of him. By the end, Morel had grown tired of it all.

So he left.

He left the areas that were overrun with humans and found a home on an ancient mountainside. And for a while, he found some peace.

But time moved forward as it always did, and evidently, people forgot what areas were meant to stay sacred when they put together the hiking trail. It had angered many of his neighbors, but most were compelled to stay away from it and leave the humans alone as long as they stayed on the path.

And yet some of them couldn't do that, and on occasion the ones that strayed would run into some of the more malevolent spirits that resided on the mountain alongside him. He could usually tell when someone would die to the supernatural. The aura about them just had a certain feel to it, but Morel chose to stay out of it completely, not wanting to cause problems with his neighbors.

Even after trying to get away, he was still forced to see that cloud of death.

It was no different when he saw you after you first arrived.

Morel had happened to be at the base of the mountain when he saw you, the death cloud around you one shade off of completely black. You'd be dead before the end of the day. Perhaps during your trip in the woods, he had thought to himself. Yet as he observed you more, he felt that wouldn't be the case. Something told him that you would make it through this hiking trip of yours, but you would die almost immediately after. You seemed pretty healthy, so illness didn't appear to be the cause. An accident, then? That would be more likely. While he couldn't determine what exactly was going to happen, whatever it was would be sudden and violent.

Looking at the rest of your group, he found that none of them were marked for death like you were. Whatever happened after you all left, you would be the only one to die.

Something compelled Morel to keep watch over you, and so he followed behind, listening in on the conversations your friends were having and waiting for you to speak up.

You weren't saying much, however, and when he moved off the trail to walk beside you so he could get a better look at your face, he was taken aback by how dejected you seemed.

Something was eating at you, but you were keeping quiet about it as you continued to follow behind, almost unnoticed by the others in your group.

Your last hours of life were going to be spent with you feeling ignored and lonely, and that depression Morel felt when it came to these things returned. You shouldn't need to die today; you should've had years left of your life, not a scant few hours. It wasn't right, but there was nothing he could do.

Or was there?

An idea came to Morel, and he became lost in his own thoughts as he found himself walking away from the trail as your group came closer to the stairs. He made his way towards what had been a chapel for some long-forgotten deity, mulling over the thought in his head.

There was something he could do to alter your fate, both him and the magic still in the mountain powerful enough to allow him to lay a claim on you. But was it worth angering Death itself to keep you safe?

As he contemplated what to do, he looked back to you.

You had taken your phone out, holding it in a way that made it clear you were aiming to get a picture of the ruins he just so happened to be standing next to.

It took less than a second for him to realize what had happened when you blinked in surprise and took your eyes off of your phone.

You could see him.

You may not have been aware of it, but your eyes met his in that moment. Based off how you looked him over, you weren't able to see him all that clearly, but he could still tell when your eyes met again as you tried to make out any features of his face.

Then one of the people from your group called out and you looked away, and Morel made himself vanish. The confusion was clear when your head turned back and found him to be gone, and you ended up following your group again with your brows furrowed.

It was something that happened on occasion with certain people, another confirmation that you were close to death: as your final hour drew near, the barrier between you and the spiritual realm was thinning and you were beginning to see things that you weren't meant to.

When you looked back one more time, you managed to look in the exact spot where he had been standing, though this time he made sure you couldn't see him. He felt the way your eyes met his again before you turned your head back, that black cloud of death still engulfing you.

Something about your situation and that sight made Morel snap.

Screw fate. He needed to save you.

As he made his decision and began to follow you in earnest, a part of him was aware that saving you wouldn't do anything for the countless people that died every day, but he felt that if he could save at least one person from an unfair and untimely death, he could live better with himself. If he could keep you alive and happy, it was worth it.

He'd been worried that luring you away with the rabbit wouldn't work. You were far enough along that you could see it for what it really was: a creation that he'd made out of mist and smoke. Yet during the time you had spent getting up to the rest area, he had expanded his aura around you for long enough that any reservations you may have had about the slightly horrifying thing before you were easily pushed to the side as he compelled you to go after his creation, to get you further into the woods and by yourself.

He hadn't planned on you getting injured in the process, and when he heard your friends calling for you sooner than he expected he threw his pipe next to you in an act of desperation and just hoped that you would grab it. As long as you picked up something that belonged to him of your own free will, then you would belong to him.

You had done just that. And therefore, he was now free to do whatever he pleased with you.

“Is there a reason why we need to get to your place fast?” you asked him as he carried you back.

“You see how thick the fog is, right? I need to get us there before I lose my way,” Morel said, “can't embarrass myself like that, can I?”

Actually he just wanted to get out of there because of the other being that had been approaching the two of you. As much as he was able to hold influence over you, you would no doubt panic if you saw a headless woman sitting astride a horse casually come up to you.

“That makes sense,” you said. Then you giggled a little to yourself.

“I'm still mad that you laughed at me earlier,” you told him, “so if you do get lost, then I'm allowed to laugh at you.”

“Fair enough. If I get us lost you can laugh at me,” he agreed.

You laughed a little bit more.

“I won't actually do that. If we do get lost I'll probably be more concerned with trying to keep calm.”

“Don't worry; I know this mountain like the back of my hand,” he assured you.

If you had really been thinking about it, you might have questioned him on that. If he knew his way around that well, why couldn't he take you back to the trail? Why was he insisting on taking you back to his home?

But with the way his aura was enveloping you completely, no such thoughts came to mind, and you instead softly rested your head against him, feeling content.

You were rather easy to influence, and that fact made Morel feel badly for manipulating you the way he was.

He'd make it up to you, he told himself. He'd done good by wrapping up your ankle, and now he'd take care of you.

Glancing back at you, he felt satisfied to see that the black cloud of death had vanished. You no longer needed to fear anything like that.

You belonged to him now, and Morel would keep you safe for the rest of eternity.

#reader insert #morel x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere hxh #morel mackernasey #morel #yandere hunter x hunter #monster au

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slapshot-to-the-heart · 4 years

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veracity - v. dunn

As promised, here’s one of our many resident himbos, Vince Dunn, in “I didn’t realize wer were dating.” As I’m sure a lot of other writers have experienced lately, reblogs have definitely been down, so I would love it if you’d give a reblog if you like it. I also read the tags! Alternately, feel free to keysmash in my inbox or let me know what your favorite parts were.

word count: 4.9k+

warnings: light sexual content (brief)

Aly Kalinski had never bothered leaving her home town. Why would she? She loved St. Louis. She was born there, went to public schools in the city, and barely moved ten miles away from home for her art degree at SLU. For all its faults, she loved her city. Aly met Vince her sophomore year of college, an accidental run-in at her favorite sandwich shop that had turned into a friendship that had turned into a relationship. So it was a no-brainer decision for Aly to stay once she graduated, getting a position teaching middle and high school art at a school in the suburbs and a loft in downtown. She didn’t want to leave her parents, or her city. Or Vince.

They had just gotten together, and it really hadn’t come as a surprise to anyone but them. Her older sister rolled her eyes when Aly told her, saying that “it was only a matter of time. You two practically act like an old married couple already.” Her parents were shocked even less. Vince’s teammates had actually been some of the biggest perpetrators in the first place, not-so-subtly leaving them in rooms together at parties and encouraging Aly to admit the feelings she wasn’t even sure she had until a few months ago. But it had happened organically, so naturally that Aly really couldn’t even put a pin on the point where their friendship had turned into romance. All she knew was that she was falling hard for Vince Dunn, and for once in her life, she wasn’t trying to stop herself.

September

Clashing teeth and her hands running through his hair and his fingernails digging into the backs of her thighs was all Aly felt as Vince held her up against the door. “Vin, bedroom,” Aly gasped, pulling away for air.

“Mhm,” he said absentmindedly, his lips trailing kisses down the column of her neck as her legs wrapped around his waist. He walked backwards into his room, dropping her down on the bed. She fumbled with the buttons on her shirt as he frantically pulled his belt off. God, it had been too long since they had touched each other. Vince had only recently returned to St. Louis for training camp and the start of pre-season, but he had been so exhausted from drills and scrimmages that all he could manage on nights they got together was curl into Aly’s side with some take out and turn on reruns of Kitchen Nightmares. She had visited him in Toronto for two weeks in July and August — it didn’t always work out so perfectly, but she was thankful that teaching meant most of her summers were free — and they had obviously had sex while they were there, but she had been missing it more than she wanted to admit. Missing him.

So when they went out to a downtown bar with the rest of the team to celebrate the end of training camp, and Aly didn’t have work the next day, they were both more than happy to indulge in a little liquid courage. Which meant a couple of drinks and a few more flirty touches later and the pair made their excuses to the rest of the group, Vince pulling up his Uber app before they were even out the door. And they weren’t exactly subtle about it — Sammy had definitely shouted “USE PROTECTION” while Vince threw him a middle finger — but they they needed each other too much to really give a fuck.

Vince trailed his fingers up her now-bare sides, the clasp of her bra falling open with a well-practiced flick. Aly palmed him over his jeans, trying half-heartedly to reverse their positions. Vince groaned. “Not tonight, baby. I need you.” Well, it’s not like she was going to argue with that. Her leggings came off in record time. His jeans followed. Aly dropped her head into the crook of his neck as he slid into her. God, they could do this a million times and she’d never get used to how good he felt. “You’re fuckin’ incredible, Aly, you know that?” Vince gasped out.

She pressed a kiss onto his shoulder. “You might've mentioned it once or twice, but feel free to keep going, Dunn,” she said.

He quickened his pace. “I will.” Ten minutes and two orgasms later, she was wrapped in Vince’s arms, trying to savor every last moment before she had to get up and use the bathroom. “I meant what I said, you know?” Vince said, one hand carding through her hair. “You really are incredible, Aly. And when we’re together…” He paused, searching for the right words.

“There’s only a few things in my life that have always come easy. Hockey, never being able to say no to ice cream, and you. I never feel like I have to be anyone other than exactly who I am when I’m with you, and I don’t know if you know just how meaningful that is for me. I need it, and I need you.” Aly smiled, turning over and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. This was the closest he’d gotten so saying he loved her, and she’d take it.

January

Aly sipped her champagne, her eyes surveying the downtown St. Louis ballroom where she found herself on a Saturday evening. Her free hand fingered with the sequin-adorned cloth of her dress, brushing up against the thigh-high slit. It wasn’t something she would have ever bought for herself, but she loved it. It caught the light like nothing she’d ever seen and Vince’s jaw had nearly fallen off the second he saw her when he picked her up for the gala. He had bought it for her, too, insisting that if he had invited her the least he could do was spare her the expense of going out and buying one on her own.

Her job paid well for a teacher, especially one in their first few years, but she wasn’t about to complain when Vince gave her his card and sent her into the shopping district to find a dress for the night. He had told her to get something stunning, and she had delivered in spectacular fashion. It was the Blues’ big fundraising gala for the year, an annual charity event to benefit the children’s hospital. Essentially, the night was an opportunity to party on the team’s dime while wining and dining Midwestern elite in a bid to get them to open up their checkbooks. It was something that Alexandra Kalinski was proving surprisingly adept at; even though she didn’t have nearly the rapport with some of the businessmen and philanthropists as most of the players and their partners did, she was able to turn on the same “teacher” charm she used on back-to-school nights, lay the accent on a little thicker than she usually would, and tug at the heartstrings of multi-millionaires with a story of a seventh grader in one of her intro painting classes who had been treated for leukemia in the hospital’s oncology ward. They couldn’t write the checks fast enough.

But Aly found herself at the bar a few hours in, next to Sammy as Vince smooth-talked someone she vaguely recognized as an exec for the Cardinals. Transitioning from friendship to being a couple, at least in regards to their social lives, had been much easier than she had thought. It had all just been so natural that people probably wouldn’t have even noticed if it hadn’t been for the looks she gave him, or her now-permanent spot on the “good chair” in the family box — that everyone else claimed was too lumpy but Aly swore up and down was the most comfortable place in the whole room — or the time Colton had walked in on them hooking up in a supply closet at the Enterprise Center during a wine tasting with season ticketholders. But she had loved everything in their relationship so far, loved how welcoming all of the other WAGs were and how happy everyone had been for them when they finally got together. “God, it was about time,” Sammy had said.

She could see that the person Vince was talking to had started making his way over to the reception table, where all the donations were being collected, and caught his eye just as he was being swept into yet another conversation. Vince liked people, there was no doubt about it, and he loved being able to help out a cause as incredible as the children’s hospital, but after almost four hours of schmoozing and small talk it was beginning to take a toll on even him. Aly gave him a tiny nod, a signal that anyone else probably would have missed, but one that Vince understood instantly. She was coming to get him. Alexandra was by his side in thirty seconds flat, her hand resting between his shoulder blades while she smiled apologetically to the man across from them. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but I’ve got a headache and have had a bit too much to be driving myself home. Would you mind taking me?”

Vince nodded, trying to keep his enthusiasm dampened. “Of course, babe. No problem.” He gave the businessman his best PR smile. “Sorry to have to leave so abruptly, but duty calls. Thank you so much for coming out tonight and supporting such a great cause, it really means a lot to me and the whole team.” With a perfunctory handshake, they began heading towards the exit, his hand gripping hers as they wove through the crowd. “Thanks for that, Aly,” he said as he opened up the passenger door for her. “I really was running on empty there.”

She smiled softly back at him. “Always.”

May

Vince’s arm was draped casually over the back of Aly’s chair, his fingertips dancing over her shoulder. She was beaming up at the couple under the flower-covered wedding chuppah at the end of the aisle, leaning into Vince’s side. Her cousin Olivia was getting married, her and her soon-to-be wife Yara had been together for years and had finally decided to take the next step. When she got the invitation four months earlier, she hadn’t hesitated to invite Vince as her plus one. They had been dating for a little under a year by that point, but seeing as how most of her family was local — some of her mom’s family was in Wisconsin, but nobody really aside from that — he had already met everyone important.

The ceremony went by in the blink of an eye, Yara and Olivia broke the glasses, and everyone began milling over towards the barn for the reception. Olivia and Yara had already met Vince some six months before, and had immediately taken to each other. The brides came over to their table after thanking everyone for coming, and dinner was served. She had never seen anyone eat as many dinner rolls in one sitting as Vince did.

---

“Alexandra!” Aly heard an excited voice from the other corner of the room over the cacophony of the music, and barely turned her head quickly enough to see who had called her name before she was pulled into a warm hug.

Aly laughed when she saw who it was. “Nice to see you, Aunt Ruth. Aunt Ruth, this is Vince. Vince, this is my Aunt Ruth,” Aly said, gesturing to the woman across from them.

Vince held out his hand, but Ruth waved it off. “We’re huggers here, Vince. She brought you to the wedding. You’re practically family.” She raised her eyebrows at the couple. “When’s it going to be your turn, hm?”

Aly groaned. “Aunt Ruuuth.”

Ruth shrugged. “I’m just saying. Your bubbe’s not getting any younger, and I’m sure she’d love to see some of her grandchildren with kids of their own.”

“How about we, uh, get off of that subject,” Aly said, her cheeks burning. “That’s up to this one, after all,” she said, patting Vince on the arm. Vince ducked his head, understanding the grip of Aly’s hand on his arm as I love this woman but I swear to God if you don’t get me out of here I think I might combust.

He smiled apologetically to the older woman, feigning a glance at his watch. “The ceremony was amazing, Ruth, but I think I’ll have to be taking Aly home now. We’ve got early breakfast plans tomorrow and I’m sure you know how this one gets when she doesn’t get a full night of sleep.” Aly squeezed his hand in appreciation.

“Of course,” Ruth said, smiling at the pair. She winked as they turned towards the door. “But think about it.”

Aly ran her hand through her hair as soon as they turned the corner into the dirt parking lot. “Thanks for that, Vin. We don’t have breakfast plans, though?”

Vince shrugged, an impish smile on his face. “Guess we do now.”

October

“I bought that tea you like,” Vince said from his spot on the couch. “I didn’t want you to be over here while you’re looking after Henry and run out.” Henry was Vince’s rottweiler, a rambunctious eleven month old that he had adopted at the middle of last season.

Aly smiled as she opened the cupboard, seeing her prized brand of Irish Breakfast next to his favorite type of coffee. “Thanks for that, Vin.”

He shrugged as the corner of his mouth twitched. “Don’t mention it.”

The Blues were about to leave for their first real road trip of the year, and it was an unspoken agreement by this time in their relationship that Aly would stay over at his apartment while he was away. Early on in the relationship, she’d just stop by a few times a week to water his plants, and then he got a few fish, and then Henry came along. It didn’t take much convincing from Vince for Aly to agree to look after them; Henry loved her almost as much as he did Vince, and getting to see him before and after school helped to curb some of the loneliness she felt in Vince’s absence.

She turned down the hallway, taking her bag into his bedroom. He had a guest room that would have been just as convenient to stay in, but she had grown used to the feel of his sheets and liked having the ensuite bathroom. Plus, she had already not-so-subtly taken over one of the drawers in his dresser. Her bag had the jeans, button downs, and blouses she’d need for work — her school mostly adhered to a smart casual dress code, plus she was an art teacher — but there were plenty of sleep shirts, underwear, and leggings in the dresser. If push came to shove, she also wasn’t above stealing Vince’s old sweatshirts. He always said she looked better in them anyways.

Even when Vince was back in town, she slept over enough for it to make sense for her to have a space of her own; it just wasn’t practical for her to have to drive fifteen minutes to her apartment and back again just to grab a shirt if she wanted to spend the night after a movie date ran long. They hadn’t broached the conversation of moving in together yet, though. It was something that had crossed Aly’s mind, and if she knew Vince as well as she thought she did, he had thought about it too. But she wasn’t in a hurry to break her lease and he hadn’t said anything about it, so she had decided to let sleeping dogs lie.

She tucked her bag into the corner of his closet, padding into the bathroom and closing the door. She cursed herself as she pulled down her shorts, realizing that her period had started and, conveniently, her purse was out in the living room. Biting her lip, Aly decided to rummage around in the vanity, praying to God that she’d left something from the last time. It wasn’t like she thought Vince would be weird about it if she asked him to bring her something from her purse; he never had been before, even when she had bled through a pair of his sweats one night staying over. “Not a big deal,” he had said, shrugging and tossing them in the washing machine. “I needed to do laundry anyway.” But she’d rather not ask if she didn’t have to. She crossed her fingers as she pulled out the last drawer, her head turning to the side in confusion as she saw an unopened box of tampons. Her eyes softened in realization. He had bought them without her ever having to ask.

January

It was bye week for the Blues, which meant everyone who hadn’t been picked for the All Star Team suddenly had an extra week in the middle of the season and nothing to do to fill it. Or, rather, had a week in the middle of the season and had to find something to do to fill it. In Vince and Aly’s case, that something turned out to be a trip to the Bahamas with some of his teammates and their wives. It had been a no-brainer for him to invite Aly; everyone else was bringing their partners and Vince knew she had a few vacation days saved up from work. They had been planning it for months, Aly having requested the time off as soon as she was able, and had blissfully traded in the chilly winters of Missouri for a balmy week on the shores of Nassau.

Vince had wanted to go to Iceland originally, half to do with the hiking and half to do with the ponies he saw in a National Geographic article as a kid, but one Google search from Sammy led them to the unfortunate realization that being so far north, there were only about six hours of daylight each day and the temperature topped out in the mid 30s. Vince looked a little deflated when he read the forecast. “Don’t worry,” Aly had said, squeezing his arm in reassurance. “We can go in June, after school lets out and before you head home for the summer. I’ve heard amazing things about their hot springs.” Sammy wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. Aly hit his shoulder.

But the Bahamas were proving to be one of the most beautiful places she had ever been. “Better than home?” he asked as they lay stretched out on the sand while they watched the sun dip below the horizon.

She scrunched her nose at him. “Unfair comparison. St. Louis is hovering around freezing and perpetually covered in a layer of slush this time of year. And, to be fair, it’s an endearing layer of slush and I love it. But right now I think I’d rather be where it’s 75º and sunny and I can lay outside looking hot as hell in a bikini without worrying about freezing my tits off.”

Vince choked on his rum punch. “Worried about that, are you?”

Aly shrugged. “I’d rather deal with a sunburn. Which, speaking of,” she glanced over at Vince, “you’re looking a little red. Don’t worry, though. I’ve got as much aloe vera as I could pack in a single quart bag. Would have tried to sneak in a whole bottle, but didn’t want the feds after me.”

Vince laughed, a whole body laugh that all but consumed him for a few moments, before pulling Aly in to rest against his chest. “I’m really happy you came, Aly. You know that, right?”

“Why wouldn’t I? All-expenses paid trip to the Carribean with you and our friends, getting to hang out on the beach all day and drink cocktails without having to worry about driving home after?”

Vince gasped in mock offense, the hand that wasn’t wrapped around her waist coming to clench at his heart. “You’re killing me here, Aly! You mean to tell me this whole time you’ve only been using me for my money? I expected more from you.”

“Not just your money, Vin,” she giggled, settling into his touch. “I tried to pay for my share of the expenses, you wouldn’t have it. But seriously, I do really love it here. It’s gorgeous, and so peaceful, and there’s really not anything I think we could do to make it better. I love you, Vince Dunn.”

“I love you too, Aly Kalinski.”

April

“One sec, I’ve got to go grab something,” Vince said, smiling at Aly as he pushed his chair back from the table. It was the day after he had come home from a two week road trip, and he had invited her over for dinner, told her to dress nice, and made what actually turned out to be a very respectable dinner of ravioli and roasted vegetables.

She nodded as her heart started to pound faster and faster, coming to a peak when she thought her chest was going to burst as Vince returned from the bedroom, turning a blue velvet box over in his hands. “I know it might seem unexpected, but I saw this the other day while I was downtown with Sammy and I don’t know, just somehow knew you were meant to have it. Knew it was meant to be yours. Something I hope you’ll see as a sign of how much I love and care about you and how even though we might not always physically be together, you’re the person I trust most in this life.”

He slid the box across the table to Aly, who opened it with shaking hands. Inside was a silver necklace with a pendant of an olive tree on it. It was absolutely gorgeous — and Vince was right, very her — but it was not what she had been expecting.

Aly snorted, burying her face into her hands. “Oh my God, I’m going to have to call my mom.”

Vince was confused. “Why?”

Aly rolled her eyes. “I told her I was coming over here for dinner and you told me to dress nice. She thought you were going to propose.”

“Propose?” Vince asked, dumbfounded. “Why would I propose?”

She tried to wave him off, but Vince could see the shimmer of hurt behind her eyes. “I mean, we’ve been together for almost two years. It wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility.”

“Together?” He looked over at her. “For two years?”

“Yeah?” she said slowly, thinking he had forgotten their anniversary. “Come June, two years.”

Vince swallowed hard as it began to dawn on him, looking down at his hands. “Together...She thinks we’ve been together for,” he looked up at the ceiling, “twenty-one months.”

“You keep repeating that word, babe. Together. What’s confusing about it?” Aly said, giving him a weird look.

God, how was he supposed to tell her? “I didn’t know we were together. Are together? Let alone that your mom was expecting a proposal.”

Aly’s blood ran cold. “Let me get this straight,” she said, pausing. “You didn’t know we’re together? What did you think we’ve been doing for almost two years?”

“Being really good friends?”

She shook her head. “Why did you tell me to dress up when I came over, then? Why did you make dinner?”

He fixed his eyes on a chip in the coffee table. “I knew you’d been having a rough week and I wanted to do something nice for you.”

“What about the vacation?” She questioned.

He shrugged helplessly. “Everyone else was going in couples, and you’re my best friend down here regardless.”

“Me coming to all the games? Sitting up in the box?”

“You’ve become friends with all the WAGs, and I love having you there to support me,” he tried.

“The sex?” Aly asked incredulously.

Vince winced. Okay, that one was a little harder to explain away. “I just always thought that we were both single, both hot, both too busy to get into relationships. Each other’s best options.”

God, Aly felt like a fucking fool. She felt like she’d been played, because in a weird, sort of twisted way, she had. “You said you thought it was because we’re both too busy to be in relationships now. But Vince, I know you have no think energy out your ears, but I need you to concentrate for a minute. Think about most couples you know. They get together a few times a week if they don’t live together. We do that.” He nodded.

“They have a drawer or a part of a closet at each other’s places, they look after each other’s plants and dogs when they’re out of town. We do that. They become friends with each other’s friends, they visit each other’s families, they take weekend trips together and fly to the Bahamas with friends when they have a week off. We did that.” She looked up at him, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. “They dance around in the kitchen together and make love and go to the zoo at least once a month because I love seeing the otters. They comfort each other when they’re at their worst, encourage each other at their best. You said you didn’t have time for a relationship, but you didn’t realize that that’s what we’ve been doing, Vince.”

Now it was Vince’s turn to be struck speechless. Aly wasn’t meeting his eyes. And honestly, he couldn’t blame her. He turned to look at her, but she had stood up abruptly from the couch, pacing nervously as she slowly made her way to the door. “I, uh, I think I should go,” she said, looking down at her hands.

Vince stood up, taking a half step towards her before deciding that it was best to give her space. “No, Aly, you don’t have to go. We can talk. I think —”

“No, I think. I think you don’t feel the same way, and I’ve been misreading things for two years. And that’s fine, I can’t force you to fabricate feelings that aren’t there, so um. I’ll go,” Aly said, shaking her head stiffly. She opened the door and shut it, and Vince was suddenly stuck in the loudest silence he’d ever heard. It was like he couldn’t move for a minute, as if all of his muscles were paralyzed, and then he came back to reality. Aly had only been gone for maybe a minute at most, but it felt like an hour.

Vince bolted out of the door, not even bothering to lock it, running straight past the elevator. Stairs would be quicker. He caught her just as she was exiting the front door, one of her hands coming up to wipe a stray tear off her cheek. “Aly!” Vince called. She hesitated for a moment but kept walking. Vince ran across the lobby, not even caring about his complete lack of shoes. “Aly! Wait up, please.”

She turned around, eyes watering, and sighed, walking over towards one of the chairs with a defeated look on her face. She didn’t even sit down, just perched on the arm like she wasn’t quite comfortable with actually settling in, like she needed to be able to up and leave at any given moment. “Please, Vince. Don’t make this any harder than it has to be. I’m not mad at you for not feeling the same way, it wouldn’t be fair of me and people can’t control their feelings, but I feel like a fucking idiot right now. Like I spent so long misreading all sorts of signs and signals and words —”

“What if you didn’t?” Vince asked breathlessly.

Aly looked startled. “What do you mean?”

“What if you didn’t misread anything, Aly? What if you didn’t have to be mad at me for not feeling the same way, because I do?”

Aly sunk into the chair, her eyes meeting his for the first time since she had left his apartment. “Then why...Why did you not say anything? How did you not know we were in a relationship?”

Vince ran a hand through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut. “Because I thought that’s all you were going to give me. And if that was it, that was enough for me,” he smiled sadly. “I thought everything, the sex and the wedding and the Bahamas, was just me being a good friend and you needing a stress relief and someone who’d always be in your corner. I never knew this was supposed to be a relationship. I didn’t think you wanted anything serious. And I had resigned myself to that, come to terms with only getting stolen kisses on late nights and early-morning coffee runs before you had to head to school. If I only got you halfway, I was okay with it, because I love you and that was better than nothing.”

“You what?” Aly’s breath caught in her throat.

“I love you,” Vince said. It was the easiest thing he had ever admitted. Because it was true.

He had told her he loved her before, but as Aly searched his face, she could tell that he meant it in a different way. In the way she always wanted him to. “You love me?” she asked, voice cracking.

Vince nodded. “I do. I’m in love with you. And you don’t know how good that feels to admit.”

Aly gave an airy laugh, reaching up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear before Vince had a chance to get it for her. “I think I might.”

“I’ve just got one question, though,” Vince asked.

“Which is?”

He cracked a smile. “You’re not going to make us change our anniversary date, are you? It would be pretty weird to explain to everyone and I really don’t want Aunt Ruth to find out and show up at my door to chase me around with a chainsaw.”

Aly giggled, leaning over and placing an exhilarated kiss against his lips. “No.”

#hockey imagine #hockey smut #vince dunn #nhl imagine #hockey imagines #hockey writing #nhl imagines #nhl smut #nhl writing #nhl #vince dunn writing #vince dunn imagine

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flyboytracy · 3 years

Text

Okay but what if Scott rly was Alan’s dad?

I was gonna post this for Earth & Sky week if I managed to complete it but it’s smol Tracy’s birthday and it’ll probably never see the light of day otherwise so why not :D

I’m always a ho for an AU so here’s one I started over lockdown called ‘Okay but what if Scott really was Alan’s dad’

☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆ ⌒ ★ ⌒ ☆

Long before International Rescue was a thing, the Tracy boys had lived on a farm in Kansas. It’d belonged to their late mother, God bless her soul, and these days it only grew crop for an environmentally friendly fuel because Tracy money came from technology instead of the earth.

The boys’ famous army father was gone for days at a time and there was plenty of rumours why that was. Mrs Wyatt who lived down the lane from the Tracys said she’d heard the man was alcoholic and probably had been for a long time because his teenaged son had been looking after the rest of them since his poor momma died. She saw them troop past her gate every day on their way to school and back, and then to the park on the weekends when their pa’s jet wasn’t on the drive.

Mr Colton, who lived at number fifty-four said he’d taken his son to the pool at the same time that the Tracy boys had been there without their father as usual. He told Vera that he’d overheard the youngest chattering away to the red-headed one about a rocket he’d called the TV21 until the eldest had overheard and shushed them. According to Mrs Johnson who was friends with Ms Hernandez at the school, Col. Tracy had budding engineers, astronauts and a future Olympic swimmer at the home he never seemed to return to. Instead it was Scott and Virgil who took their brothers to swim meets and galas and even to the Cosmosphere. Ms Hernandez could find nothing to complain about because all four of the Tracy boys grades were above average and threw off the teachers’ bell curves when it came to subjects like science and math.

That Scott boy sure had his hands full with three brothers, his own future and a possibly alcoholic father to look after, so the whole town was surprised when he went and knocked up the Austin girl after being crowned king and queen of their grad ball. Not much ever happened in the backwater towns of the sunflower state so everybody knew about it the morning after the night Pa Austin went round the Tracy’s farmhouse to have it out with the Colonel.

The rumour mill had been on fire for months after that because Mrs Johnson had been having her usual perm when she’d heard Ma Austin tell Shirley all about how her daughter’s boyfriend had been going to leave their small town after graduation. She’d seen the way the Tracy boy cared for his brothers and had expected he’d give up his plans to join the military if he had a kid of his own at home with her.

To the town’s surprise, it turned out that the Colonel was actually a long distance father and not an entirely absent one. Pa Austin had stormed to the farmhouse that night with his shotgun in hand, only to be greeted by a hologram of the great Colonel himself, sat eating dinner on a beach somewhere as his boys ate dinner round a table in Kansas. Austin had gone round with the aim of threatening at least one Tracy with his shotgun but hadn’t got that far because Colonel Jefferson Tracy could still dominate a room from over a thousand miles away.

According to Pa Austin, his fancy hologram was just as tall as the real thing and pretty sober which put paid to Mrs Wyatt’s theory that he was an alcoholic. In fact he was a Big Apple businessman now, and a darn good one at that because by the end of the evening it had been decided that his eldest son would join the GDF as planned and the child would remain with its mother but want for nothing. Tracys took care of their own and Pa Austin said he’d realised that when the colonel’s youngest boy had kept interrupting their conversation to show him trash he’d found in the pond at the park and Tracy hadn’t brushed the youngster off at all.

The big holographic man had promised they’d feed the ducks at the weekend, which meant half the town was hanging around the park come Saturday morning.

The youngest had appeared first, full of joy and enthusiasm that his older brother didn’t share as the red-head was dragged across the grass to the pond. The second eldest was close behind them and had a couple of toy boats in his arms which left the eldest Tracy boy and his father to bring up the rear.

They were deep in conversation when they appeared, the Colonel strolling along easily with his hands behind his back like an old fashioned gentleman. Scott was by his side and gone was the little boy always running to catch up. In his place strode a man and it was rather disappointing really.

The Tracys moved away shortly afterwards. Stan the mailman said he’d seen fancy suits taking pictures of the farmhouse and the Tracys had paid for their mail to be redirected but he couldn’t seem to find an address. The Austins had an address for the Tracys, but they also had a pretty hefty NDA in exchange for a very comfortable lifestyle and weren’t much inclined to break it just to satisfy everyone else’s curiosity.

It all died down after a while and people got bored of watching Sophia get bigger. Her old flame might’ve flown out of the picture but his presence sure was felt around town when Sophia got her own car and fancy place on the Tracy’s dime. Ms Hernandez said the colonel had insisted Ms Sophia continue her education alongside being a momma to his first grandchild and Shirley heard there was a job at the Tracy’s family business when she wanted to get out of Kansas.

Nothing exciting happened in their little backwater until the day a private jet landed on the main street and Sophia was whisked off to give birth at a very fancy hospital. According to Ma Austin, she had a private room and the colonel had parked his jet on the roof since his son wouldn’t make it back in time for the birth.

They did seem to be a good family, the Tracys, even if they’d disappeared off the face of the earth in the past eight months or so. The only trace anybody could seem to find of them was on the Tracy Industries website where each son had a mention in the CEO’s bio but real information was scarce. They disappeared off Ms Hernandez’s records and there was nothing about them on any government website. Nobody was truly surprised that the Colonel had chosen to disappear because they’d come to realise a few things after reading his bio. For one, the fella was a billionaire several times over and two, he adored those four boys of his more than anything because his words about his achievements had been clinical but the paragraph about each of his sons’ achievements had made old Mrs Johnson cry.

Of course everybody wanted to know what happened but the Austins didn’t have a lot to say. The Colonel was a very nice man who didn’t seem to have taken offence to Ms Austin’s actions. He’d offered her further education and employment instead of the lawsuit most men in his position would’ve filed. There were rumours the fella was working on a top secret project that’d change the world, but in their little backwater there were rumours about everything.

Alan Tracy didn’t pay attention to any of those rumours as he grew up with his momma in a sleepy little town in Kansas. The little boy loved many things including his momma and their house that had a big garden with a tire swing and a sandpit he used to re-enact grandpa landing on Mars. He loved ice cream and going to the park and he even liked Kindergarten ‘cause he got to draw pictures of his family and space.

But what Alan Tracy loved most of all was his daddy. He didn’t get to see him a lot ‘cause he was learning to be a pilot like grandpa, but every Friday evening a fancy car arrived to take him a little way out of town where grandpa’s jet would be waiting to take him to the island for the whole weekend.

Sometimes grandpa flew it but he had lots of meetings around the world so other times he’d see Uncle Virgil through the window and squeal with excitement ‘cause his biggest uncle had the best toys. He was gonna be an engineer and could fix any of Alan’s toys, even the one that failed a moon launch. He had Alan’s undying love ‘cause the little boy could hang from his arm like a monkey and he had lots of fun stories about his daddy. They were best, best friends and Alan liked to crawl into that big plaid shirt and bug him ‘til Uncle Virg showed him pictures of when daddy was little.

Uncle Virg wasn’t always around though ‘cause he was studying in Denver but that was okay ‘cause Alan had two more uncles to play with. Johnny didn’t really like to play but when he was home he let Alan play with his telescopes and taught him all about space.

Alan loved his daddy but he thought he might love space even more. He loved it when Johnny took him up to the peak of the island in the dark and they sat for an hour to watch for shooting stars. Alan had fallen asleep once on the big fluffy blanket and the best thing of all was when he woke to find daddy had an arm around Johnny’s shoulders and Alan had been drooling on his shirt.

“Hey, sprout.” Daddy had smooched his forehead when he’d noticed bright blue eyes staring up at him with joy, “I love you. John says you’ve been learning about the stars some more.”

“There’s Ursa Major!” Alan had stood up to be able to point out the little pinpricks of light that made up the Ursa Major Constellation and he still hadn’t been taller than his daddy, “Johnny says Ursa’s a big bear like Uncle Virg.”

“Johnny told you that, did he?” his daddy’s laugh had made Alan feel warm right down to his bones and he’d dived for a hug. Impossibly long arms had folded around him and Johnny, drawing them both into the safest place in the universe for so long they missed most of the shooting stars and Johnny made them go away so he could see the rest. Alan didn’t mind ‘cause dad swung him up onto his shoulders and let him get wet on the rocky beach by the villa since it was bath time anyway.

Alan loved Sunday mornings on the island when daddy was home. Alan liked to wake him up by bouncing on the bed ‘cause the sky was awake so they should be too. And then they’d get dressed in matching blue swim shorts and go for a run around the island and if he ran faster than daddy on the home stretch he was allowed to jump into the pool like Superman. Gordon was usually in there by then and kept an eye on Allie doing the doggy paddle in the shallow end whilst daddy went to get breakfast out the fridge. There was something cool that beeped super loud that time he tried to moonwalk on the bottom of the pool like an astronaut and Uncle Virg had dived in like a bowling ball to fish him out. Gordon had laughed a lot but Uncle Virg hadn’t even smiled ‘til daddy gave him one of those hugs that made booboos stop hurting.

Alan really loved his uncles but he loved his daddy most and it was hard to stand on the runway with Uncle Virg to wave goodbye. Uncle Virg didn’t seem to like waving goodbye either so Alan always held his hand to make him feel better and did his best to be like daddy so Uncle Virg wouldn’t miss him too much.

He seemed to end up being more like John as a couple of years passed and everything in his life changed. Grandpa took him to London to get measured for a suit for daddy’s graduation and he didn’t understand why Uncle Virg kept frowning at Gordon for laughing about daddy’s graduation from big school. He asked Uncle Virg what was so funny, and then Grandpa and Grandpa’s weird professor friend who used big words Alan didn’t know yet, but none of them seemed to know and even daddy missed a step when Alan asked him on their way to the fancy dinner Grandpa was hosting at his penthouse in New York for his newly graduated son. Daddy never ever missed anything which was annoying when Alan was trying to get hold of Gordon’s cookies but he’d breathed air the wrong way and Uncle Virg had to thump his back a few times.

Daddy had talked about how cool Alan looked in his little gray suit and Alan had been so happy he’d forgotten about his question ‘til after dinner when they were still at the table and he’d pulled himself onto Grandpa’s knee ‘cause Uncle Virg and Gordon were being loud and he’d been a tired little boy by then. He’d tried one last time to find out what was so funny about daddy’s last graduation and Grandpa had rested his chin atop Allie’s head.

“Your momma and daddy had you after his last graduation.” Grandpa rumbled, “You were quite an unexpected surprise for your daddy, but a welcome one. Gordon likes to remind your daddy about what a big surprise you were.”

“Your daddy was a surprise too, as I recall.” Grandma Tracy was sat with Grandpa and Alan loved visiting her but sometimes she made him cookies and he didn’t love those.

“I love daddy, not cookies.” he mumbled tiredly and fell asleep right there at the table.

That meant he missed the way his Grandpa coughed to quieten his four boys because he had something real important to discuss with them. Scott knew what it was, and Virg had an inkling because it was difficult to disguise underground excavations from a highly skilled engineer. They were sat together with Virgil’s elbow resting on the back of Scott’s chair and blue eyes softened when he realised where Alan had got to.

Alan had managed to sleep through the inaugural meeting of International Rescue and life was never the same again after he woke up.

#idek #AU warning #dad!scott #i'm just such a ho for dad!scott #this is what happens when I watch things like Bridgerton

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nevernevadahq · 2 years

Photo

Everyone suspects SADIE JUNE SWEENEY of at least one of the cardinal sins, but in Nevada, the worst sins are bound by blood and SHE has yet to roll the dice. HER fixation on the neon lights of Nevada started TWO YEARS ago but when the lights start to hum, they close their eyes. Under the desert sun, they claim the act of ASSISTANT MANAGER AT KILLER CUPCAKES. They’re often mistaken for VICTORIA PEDRETTI before those crimson colored glasses slide down their nose. SADIE better get busy living, or they’ll get busy dying by the ripe age of TWENTY SEVEN. There are no second acts in a marked life, and it’s measured out by the melody of PLANS BY OH WONDER.

DATE OF BIRTH: June 10th, 1994

GENDER AND PRONOUNS: Cis Woman, She/Her

HOMETOWN: Brooklyn, NY

CHARACTER BIOGRAPHY

Sadie June Sweeney was born to two hard working, middle class parents, chasing after their idea of the American dream, but living in the harsh reality of it. The Sweeney’s were what you would describe as your typical nuclear family–at least, from an outsider’s perspective. The inner workings of the four people that made up Sadie’s family were a little less picturesque. There were no family dinners gathered around the same kitchen table, no late night heart to heart conversations, no feel good message at the end of the episode before the credits rolled. Colton and Rebecca Sweeney worked more than they didn’t, and when they didn’t, their short time was spent recovering from that weekly workload, before getting up the next day to start it all over again. Sadie had always been grateful for the sacrifices her parents had made for them growing up to ensure that they had everything they needed, but in doing so, they had forgotten to teach their children how to want more than what they had. To dream big and to work to not just obtain, but enjoy.

Despite this, her days had never felt lonely. At the time of her birth, she’d already been given a built in best friend: her older brother, Blue. Despite their three year age difference, the two had grown up thick as thieves, often left to their own devices once old enough. Upon the diagnosis of her hearing loss, Colton and Rebecca had learned basic sign language, but only just what they needed to get by, practically the story of their life. It was Blue who’d thrown himself into the language, and it wasn't very long before the two could sign circles around their parents, which certainly had its benefits in their teenage years. She knew that as her older brother, he’d felt the need to sign on to be her protector, but Sadie had always felt that they’d protected each other.

Until his disappearance, that is.

To this day, she still couldn’t piece it together. What had happened. What had changed. How her brother–her best friend–had not just taken off, but had left her behind. She knew he’d been struggling, but something had happened that he felt even she didn’t deserve to know, and she felt that loss truly as if he’d died. New York, the city which she’d lived all her life, the city that she’d loved for just as long, had lost its shine, but Sadie stuck around a year longer anyways, allowing herself to hold onto some sort of painful hope that he’d come strolling back into her apartment as he always did, telling her some crazy story about where he’d gone, and she would have forgiven him like no time had passed at all, and things would feel right again.

That year came and went, and took Sadie with it. After an old run-in with her culinary school instructor (a dream Blue had encouraged her to chase, funnily enough), she was made aware of a position out west in Nevada, and she’d barely asked any questions before going after it, packing up what few things she had with her in New York, and moving across the country for a much needed fresh start. Though the position hadn’t ended up sticking, Sadie had quickly fallen in love with Las Vegas (that, and she refused to return to the I told you so’s of her parents), and two years later could confidently say that she’d found comfort in her new home: a kind of which she’d only ever felt in one person before.

SADIE SWEENEY IS WRITTEN BY TABITHA.

#victoria pedretti #victoria pedretti fc #bio rp #oc rp #crime rp #nevernevada.bio #civilian

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hollandlover19 · 3 years

Text

Speed

Peter is a grumpy baby

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

Peter was upset.

Like really upset.

A few months ago peter went on a mission with Nat and tony, but things didn’t quite go as planed and long story short, peter was shot with some sort of tranquilizer dart that dampened his powers, before falling and breaking his leg.

When you got back to the compound, Peter was taken to the med bay and his leg was put in a cast, but now he was getting antsy. Peter hadn’t driven in almost two months and that wasn’t good because there were only two things that kept peter sane when he had nothing to do, and those two things were driving, and you.

The contents of the darts wore off after a couple days, and his leg was healed by the end of the week, but when they ran some blood tests it showed that the contents were still in his system, so they decided to leave the cast on, which meant no driving.

Peter tried explaining to tony that his leg was healed and that his powers were back but tony didn’t believe him, instead he told Peter that he didn’t want to take any chances and that he shouldn’t lie about not being injured just cuz he wants to drive, and he even went as far as taking peters keys and hiding them.

Now he sat in his room bored and upset as he watched his friends plan a late night car meet on the group chat. They decided on the time, place, and who’s place they would meet up at beforehand.

Peter wanted to go so bad but Tony refused to remove the cast from peters leg which served as a whole other problem because even if tony did give Peter his keys, he wouldn’t be able to shift gears with the cast on.

The whole thing was stupid, so stupid that it made his stomach hurt. You knew you had to do something about it, you couldn’t just sit there and watch him suffer, so you devised a plan.

First, you went and talked to Dr. Cho and convinced her to help get peters cast off, then you texted Jaxin and Terrell and asked them to come over so they could help you look for the keys, and they gladly did considering how much they missed having you and peter around. The rest of the team were on a mission in Italy which made it a lot easier to search the compound and peters friends already knew that he was Spider-Man so they had all been here before.

The First place you checked was Tony’s room, then you looked in peppers office but while you were looking pepper walked in. You were about to give up and call it off but instead she decided to help out.

“The keys are in a secret cubby under a stool in the lab.”

You thanked her and gave her a big hug before running to the lab with Terrell and Jaxin following behind you. You found the cubby and grabbed peters keys, then you handed them to Jaxin and told him to go park peters car out front while you and Terrell went to get Peter.

You walked into his room and found him laying on his side with his arms wrapped around his stomach. You crawled onto the bed and ran your fingers through his hair, he tried to pull you down to cuddle but you wouldn’t let him so he kept trying until he saw Terrell in the doorway with Dr. Cho behind him.

“What’s going on?” Peter asked as Cho got to work on his cast.

“We’re going for a drive” Jaxin said as he walked in the door and threw Peter his keys. He caught them just as Dr. Cho finished with his cast.

You all ran outside, Terrell and Jaxin got in their cars while you and Peter got in his. He turned the key and you giggled as you watched his eyes roll to the back of his head when he reved the engine.

Colton and Jesse were already waiting at Terrell’s since that was where they decided to meet up before you called Terrell and Jaxin, so that was where you went.

As soon as you all turned onto the highway, you watched peter shift gears as if it was second nature. which it was. And of course it’s always a race with them, and even though Peter hadn’t driven in months, he still won.

Once you met up with Colton and Jesse, you watch them exchange bro hugs with peter, and then you hit the road.

It was adorable how happy Peter was, he hadn’t stopped smiling like an idiot since he sat in his car. You followed Jesse out of town to an abandoned storage unit with a huge empty parking lot. He found it a couple weeks back. after the boys found out Peter was injured, they decided to go on a hunt for a new place to hang out and this was the perfect place.

They all did a lap around the place just to check the place out, and then came the fun. The boys wanted to test your skills so they moved their cars out of the way, Peter grabbed his web-shooters from the glove compartment and shot a web at the breaker box to turn the lights on.

You sat in the driver’s seat of peters car, reving the engine as you waited for the count down. Peter walked over to you and gave you a good luck kiss, and jokingly told you not to crash knowing you were a true born natural at driving.

“Are you ready?” Terrell asked as he stood in front of the car.

You reved the engine in response as Terrell started the count down.

“3…”

“2…”

“1-”

You were gone before he finished saying one. Terrell laughed and Peter watched as you drifted perfectly around every corner.

“Holy shit, she’s good.” Jaxin said.

They all watched in awe as you came speeding back into the centre of the parking lot and started pulling perfect doughnuts around the boys and finished in a perfect stop.

“Told you.” Peter said as he walked past the boys.

“Why the fuck do you not have a car!?” Terrell said as you got out.

“What do you mean, this is my car.” You said with a confused look.

“ but that’s peter’s car.” Jaxin said, even more confused.

Everyone looked at peter as he laughed, “we have matching skylines.”

“How do you know which one is which?” Colton asked

“break callipers, mine are black his are the same colour as his car.” You said as they all went to look at your break callipers that were in fact black.

“Holy shit Parker you’re dating the drift queen.” Jesse said, making peter laugh.

“Where do you think I got my skills from.” Peter said, which amazed them even more.

“She taught you!?” They said which made you both laugh.

“Yes she taught me, now Who wants to come get my car with me?” Peter asked, Jesse raised his hand as they walked to his car, got in, and sped off.

They got back about ten minutes later and finally you all got to have fun.

#peter parker #spider man #Carboy!peter #peter parker x reader #peter parker angst

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uncrownedmox · 3 years

Text

Dirty Secret

The Rigmarole: Mention of sexual contact / descriptive- dirty language. Swearing. Mox being a dominant cocky asshole. Sexual shenanigans (oral, male/female giving, toy play, alpha status) 18+ only.

Pairing. Dean Ambrose/Jon Moxley x OC

Rating. MC

Summary: When she looked at him she knew she was complete. She was HOME. They laughed and spent all their free time together. She wasn't surprised by the rumors, hurt yes but surprised no.

But he said not to worry, in the wrestling world, everything becomes a storyline sooner or later. That was fine with her. Sooner or later everyone will know who she is- the only thing she didn't plan on was the Shield. Or how looking at HIM made her into someone new, someone larger than life. She thought she was complete before? That she was home? Now..she knows better.

But now Evolution is back.. and that sledgehammer feels so heavy in her small hands.

(Actually, matches and timelines WON'T match up to this story. )

January 2013

Looking around she wasn’t sure where to go or who to speak to. The busy buzz of backstage was intimidating at best and people seemed only to be concerned in their own little bubble. Moving to the side as a fast-moving cart of clothing came flying by Catherine Jane Parks sighed and continued down the hallway.

Her long platinum hair was tied back into a loose braid and she had loose strands framing her face. Her light honey-colored eyes darting left and right until she came across a blonde woman standing around the round looking over a sheet of paper.

“Excuse me, Miss.” Keeping her voice light and hoping her confusion wasn’t too evident.

Watching as dark brown shot up to her and saw the surprise as the other woman took in her jeans and Nike hoodie. Smiling in what she hoped was a friendly matter CJ pushed forward.

“I was wondering if you could tell me where to find.” Pausing for a moment she had to remember what exactly to him.

Their relationship was so new and fragile that they had dared put a label on it. Digging out her phone from her back pocket she scrolled through some text messages and nodded silently when she came upon it. Looking back up at the blonde she smiles big.

“Hunter?”

She saw the blonde’s eyes go wide and dart from left to right then swallow hard. Then after a stale moment, she nods and chokes out softly as she points down the hallway. Licking her lips as she starts to speak and rolls the paper she had been looking at up in her hands.

“Down that hallway, take a left, third door on your right. Knock right- always knock first.”

Then she taps the rolled-up paper against her head as if she was reminding herself to do so. Nodding as she turned down the hallway CJ thanked her and made her way with the directions she was given. Coming up on the door she leaned her head against it for a moment. This would be only the second time they have met, and it took her breath away.

Knocking as she got herself back under control, hearing his rough voice call out in a biting command.

“Come.”

Smiling as she pushed the door open and slipped inside. He was sitting at a desk, in a dress shirt that was rolled up to his elbows. His eyes were focused on a piece of paper, but twitching to look at a laptop screen that was set up to his right. CJ simply leaned against the door and watched him for a few seconds.

Then his eyes flicker to her, a ghost of a smile graces his lips and gentles ask. “How was your flight?”

Kicking herself off the door and moving closer she settles into the plush chair that is across from his desk. Their eyes haven’t strayed from one another, they are both smiling like idiots now. There is so much to say and to do now that she is here, here with him.

“Good, I have never flown before so it was something else.”

She sees the surprise in his dark eyes, the hurt as well but she dismissed it. She doesn’t want regret or hurt between them. Reaching to lay a hand on top of his she squeezes lightly, hoping he understands. Smiling a little when a light shines in his dark eyes. Suddenly there is another knock on the door. Withdrawing her hand she sits back in the chair, almost ashamed. Smiling a little when he whispers out an apology and then bellows out.

“Come.”

Turning cause she is curious about his life and his business because she wants to be a part of everything that is him. She blinks in surprise as three rather large men come walking in, Hunter sighs and picks up the paper he had been looking at when she had came in.

“Joe, Colby, Jon, good good.” His eyes dart to her and she realizes that maybe she has overstayed her welcome?

Hitching her thumb towards the door in silent question and wanting to squeal in delight when Hunter shakes his head. She simply nods and tries to melt more into the chair. Hunter sighs and shakes the piece of paper at the three men.

“Care to tell me what this was about?”

Glancing back when she heard a deep sigh followed by a grunt. She saw the man in the middle close his eyes and rub at his temples, the man to his right just stared ahead, but the man on the left looked right at Hunter and muttered softly.

“Poor timing or self-defense?”

He said it so innocently CJ was almost convinced until she saw the glint of his hard blue eyes. The small kick of a smile on his lips, then a lock of his hair fell into those devilish eyes and CJ knew what he was. He was pure trouble. Moving without thinking about she made her way to stand by Hunter’s side. Not trusting Mr. Blue Eyes for a minute.

She was aware her movement had all four men looking at her in question. Shifting uncomfortably, she glanced down to see the paper Hunter was waving around at the three men in front of him.

A police report

Snorting softly, it would seem as Mr. Blue Eyes was a little troublemaker. Feeling his hard blue eyes on her she moved closer to Hunter, and keep on reading the report only stopping when Hunter spoke again.

“How do you claim self-defense, Good? She was an undercover cop.”

Mr. Blue Eyes, aka Good which she found hilarious because she only see him being good at being bad.

“Fine Entrapment then, fuck boss-man the things she said she could do with her pus.”

Eyes wide, mouth going dry. Watching as the guy in the middle slapped Mr. Blue Eyes in the chest and the other man grunted. Hunter raising out of his chair, a snarl on his lips.

“You watch your fucking mouth, Good. There is a Lady present.”

Mr. Blue Eyes blinks at Hunter then at her, all the while rubbing his chest. When goes to open his mouth Hunter snaps out.

“You all three are fined ten thousand dollars each, consider it a welcome to the big leagues.”

When Mr. Blue Eyes flares in either anger or disgust Hunter adds.

“The next time it will be fifty thousand and a suspension. I don’t give a fuck hot the Shield is right now. You will learn to play by my rules and understand that this is not the fucking indies- you understand me, Mox?”

Putting a hand on Hunter’s foreman she wasn’t sure if this was a normal business day for him or not but he seemed so invested in what was happening. That it got her blood pumping, when he cast her a look. She smiled big for him. When he shoots the three men another glance she can tell he is calmer.

“I know you’re still adjusting, especially you Jon. I told you once, listen to Joe okay. He may have the least amount of experience in the ring as you and Colby but damn it man you all can learn shit from one another.”

Nodding in satisfaction she beamed at him, letting go of his foreman she knew from her own background that wasn’t always peaches and cream.

“It’s all about being a team. Learning each other's weaknesses and strengths. It’s not always easy to let someone in or let pick at the scabs you have.”

All four men were looking at her again, blushing. She shrugged and picked up a pen from Hunter’s desk, and clicked a few times.

“Colton words, not mine.”

Mr. Blue Eyes asks and she can hear the amusement in his voice. Making air quotes with her fingers she murmured.

“My dad, ex-bad boy player extraordinaire.”

Mr. Blue Eyes actually laughs at her then sticks his hands into his jean pockets.

“Darlin you don’t know bad boy until you know me.”

Now she is laughing, so much so that she has to hang onto Hunter’s chair so she doesn’t fall.

“You a bad boy? Please!”

She totally misses the hardness that enters his blue eyes as he takes a step forward, the middle man jerks him back and grunts out.

“Leave her alone man, she is just a little girl.”

Snorting as Hunter opens his mouth but she adds.

“I and a group of my friends met Colton at Peru’s. He had just bent my mother over in the bathroom for fifteen minutes after a fight, didn’t know who in the hell I was so after some angry sex and seeing my mom talk to me he thought it would be cool to try to get with me in the same bathroom.”

Hunter is snarling and has her in his arms in a flash. She is laughing cause she thinks it’s so damn funny now. Mr. Blue Eyes is smirking saucy.

“He didn’t piece it together for a while and for a while I let him play the charmer. You, can’t outdo Colton Messer, my friend. No matter what you say or do.”

The third man finally speaks up in a low smooth voice.

“The Colton Messer?”

Nodding she laughs as he flinches and glances at his friend then sighs. He mumbles a second later.

“Yeah, Uce give over. If half that shit is true- not even Mox is as bad as he is.”

Nodding as she shyly snuggles deeper into Hunter’s embrace she watches blue eyes blink then narrow. He licks his lips then after a moment he shrugs, turns to face Hunter again.

“Okay fine, you tightened the leash on your new puppy. Can we go?”

Hunter only grunts, his hand is in her hair, his lips on her forehead and she finally knows what it’s like to be home.

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

Watching him across the room she can help the smile that graces her lips. Seeing him in this element is breathtaking, his wife Stephine stands beside him but she could care less about that. The woman doesn’t seem to care for CJ, and that’s just fine. Hunter keeps them separated most of the time, except when they are at shows.

WWE shows

At twenty-four CJ never thought she would be working for such a company. Currently, she is working with Mr. Maddox who is a pure gentleman and a delight. She has caught on quickly that the wrestling world isn’t like the outside world, or even the racing world. Colton was always trying to sucker into working for him after graduating from college this spring. Hunter had put his foot down and told her absolutely not.

Glancing at him again she couldn’t help but be proud. She was aware of the rumors backstage, Hunter and she hadn’t gone public with their relationship. Hunter was trying to give his wife as much as needed to adjust to having CJ around and in her face. But the rumors were there already.

They simply chose not to acknowledge them because in Hunter’s words.

I am sorry CJ, like it or not. I know Steph- you’ll be a storyline before long.

Then the nature of their relationship will come to light, some would doubt it she was sure of that. But Hunter promised to take care of things. And so far he had upheld all his promises to her.

Like never having to see Chase Beckett again.

Frowning at the thought of the man that almost ruined her life she blushed when Hunter suddenly met her gaze. His dark eyes weren’t soft and playful like they normally were but hard and cold. She had gotten used to seeing that look for the cameras for TV. Watching as he brought his cell phone up to his face she watched in slight concern as after a moment he hung up and looked away from her. His attention back on whatever his wife was talking about.

“That was strange.”

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, jumping slightly when a warm hand comes to rest on her right shoulder. Turning she comes face to face with one Dean Ambrose, whom she first met in Hunter’s office three weeks ago as Mr. Blue Eyes. Of course, she knows Dean is just his character’s name and his real name is Jon. But she still gets confused sometimes on what to call these guys.

“Mr.”

He doesn’t let her finish instead he gently takes her elbow in hand and starts to lead her out. They were at some charity event and blinked as his two friends flanked him as they near the door.

“No fuss and no noise sweetheart. Hunters command.”

The phone call

“But why?”

The question is out of her mouth before she realizes it, the man gliding her only grunts but when a reporter at the entrance calls out.

“Chase, can we get a word?”

Stiffing she tries to melt into three larger men, she hides the best she can. Once they make it out, pass the entrance and into a SUV she reaches in her purse and digs out her phone and hits a speed dial number.

“Yes?”

His voice is gruff and hard, but she can hear the concern under it. It makes her want to weep.

“Thank you.”

There is a pause then in a year of their relationship she finally whispers.

“Thank you so much and I love you.”

He sucks in a breath, and she starts to openly cry. His words are light and his voice is gentle.

“I love you too, CJ. Since the day I met you.”

She hears him hang up and she can’t stop crying because even with the hurdle of telling Hunter she loves him she feels so very much alone. A strong arm comes around her shoulders and she doesn’t even blink; she just turns into him and balls her eyes out.

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

May 2013

To say he has gotten used to being a WWE superstar is understatement. But he has watched and listened. After the fiasco in January, Joe had put the hammer down to their partying and he had cleaned up his act. Not that he was super bad to begin with.

Jonathan Good was a good man, or that’s what Colby and Joe says. Joe’s old lady swears by it too.

If you wasn’t I wouldn’t trust you with my daughter, you asinine.

Chuckling at the memory as he warmed up, they were coming off Mania season and anything could happen. He had no clue if the Shield’s thing with Sheamus, Big Show, and Randy Orton was completely done or not. Then inside of his brain snarls and pokes at him. He wouldn’t tell a soul about this- about how bad he is hurting because being handed a scripted for every promo kills him.

The snarling and poking inside of him, he knows is from his creative side. It’s a side that has mashed into his old Mox character and the fucker is still breathing and living deep in his soul.

But he is trying to cut it out, slowly and carefully. And, it feels like, with a dull ass spoon. Certain things don't help, either. Namely the little young number that is currently his boss' side piece.

Since that back in January he has kept a loose eye on her. CJ Parks even landed herself a job as a personal assistant to Greg Maddox. That he mused, was an injustice, all by itself. But who was he to say otherwise, one of the perks of fucking the boss man he supposed.

Looking over at Joe he put it out there.

“A what-if for you.”

It’s a game they play, Joe was quick to catch on it helped with his mental state at times. So six month into their run, having become closer, the bigger man only grunts as he sits down and slips on his boots.

“If you were the princess. Wouldn’t it piss you the high off that your hubby was keeping his younger side piece in your face all the damn time.”

After all he mused Hunter had called him and his boys from their charity interview a while back to pull his babygirl out of the whole event for some odd reason. Colby butts in with.

“Maybe it’s an open arrangement?”

Looking at Joe specifically he asked more heatedly.

“But I mean, the age- wouldn’t it be like robbing the cradle or something?”

Joe chokes on thin air and shakes his head, Jon can see the smile he is sporting though. The is a knock on the door and when whoever doesn’t wait for an all clear it speaks volumes. Watching as Hunter himself slips into the locker room, Jon plops down and reaches for the tape out of his bag. It doesn’t take Hunter long to get to the point.

“Tonight you boys will seek out Maddox for a new challenge. However he will get wind of it, and high tail it out of here. That leaves you dealing with his assistant.”

Sighing softly so this was why the personal face to face. Hunter wanted to make sure they treated his side piece with kid gloves. Fair enough, he supposed, they could-

“Ambrose I want you to go full throttle on her.”

Blinking in total surprise and a little shock, he nodded.

“Sure I can- WAIT. What?”

Joe snickers at him and Colby clunks down beside him in a hurry. Hunter only grunts then raises a hand and rubs it over his domed head.

“If you can get her to shed some tears even better. Dip into Mox if you have too but keep it PG. Cause this where things are going to get interesting boys, seems like Dave is coming back. And well since Randy is still wanting some of you boys.”

Colby is leaning forward like a kid on Christman morning. His eyes are lit up and sparkling up but Jon can’t seem to care because he can’t seem to wrap his mind around Hunter wanting him to cut a promo on his side piece. And not just any promo. Suddenly Hunter's words break through his thoughts.

“That’s right Evolution will be reborn next week.”

Shaking his head he drops his tape and snaps out.

“Hunter are you sure, you want me to cut a promo on your girl? I mean..?”

Hunter gives him a hard look then stands, looks at his watch and nods. Moves towards the door, all without looking back at him.

“You have one hour Jon. And three takes to get it done. Don’t disappoint me Jon.”

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

The Shield finds Maddox's assistant in their joint office, her pretty long platinum hair is twisted into a messy bun that has chopstick sticking out of it. Her eyes look so fucking delicious behind a pair of reading glasses. She is on her cell phone, her eyes go wide and big when she sees them.

Dean gives her credit for standing when they file into the office room. He barks out.

“Where is Maddox?”

She physically flinches and replies to whoever is on the phone.

“Mr. Hemsley one moment if you please.”

An errant “Jon” thought crosses his mind.

Do you call him that behind closed doors baby?

Dean quickly pushes it away, there is no time or space for Jonathan Good or Jon Moxley in the here or now. This, THIS right now belongs to him- belonged to Dean Ambrose. He won’t screw it up again. Never again.

“Gentlemen how may I assist you tonight?”

The Mox in him howls and begs at his control, they had rehearsed the promo earlier. It had taken all three tries to get, he not happy with the first- she the second. And now here was another damn character in his head wanting to detail the whole damn thing. With something that clearly wasn’t PG. That clearly would get him fired.

“Little girl, you can’t assist me with what I want.”

And there it was. Jesus Fucking Christ. Not only did he see the surprise in her honey colored eyes but he FELT the surprise in his teammates. Shifting the US Championship belt on his shoulder he grinded his teeth together, how in the fuck to save this?

“What you can give me, and my boys, what we want!”

Okay that was a little better, at least it was getting them back on track. Then to his horror he saw something flash in those shiny golden eyes, saw her lips form in o pout and the tilt of her head as she looked him dead in the eye and leaned forward.

“Nope!”

His mind blanked.

Time stilled.

When it picked back up and he reacted it wasn’t Dean Ambrose that snarled back, almost happily.

“I was hoping you would say that, doll.”

As quick as lightning his hand shot out, tangled itself, her messy bun hair do and brought her smashing up against his body and her lips up against his.

Jonathan Good knew as the cameraman called out that they were all clear that he was good as fucked. The question was, did he care?

#my writing #dean ambrose #dean ambrose fanfiction #dean ambrose smut #no one under 18+#masterlist #chapter series #my muses #over1000words

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idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 · 4 years

Text

Small Talk

Author: Nat / @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69

Requested: Yes – Anonymous

Fandom: NHL

Relationship: Pre-Established; Colton Parayko x Reader

Song: Small Talk by Niall Horan

Summary: Truth or drink with the Blues was maybe not the best game to get involved in when you were crushing hard on Colton Parayko.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Alcohol. Mentioned and implied sex

“I have a great idea!” One of Colton’s teammates said with a smirk. He was having a get together which turned into a small party. A lot of the team with there as well as their better halves. Colton, one of your close friends, brought you along. He brought you to a lot of team events or parties.

“They’re only fun if you’re there,” he would always say when you protested or declined because you weren’t a team member or better half. And then he would give you sad eyes, and if there was one thing you couldn’t say no to it was Colton when he gave you sad eyes. So, like many times before, you ended up here to hang with the guys. It just became a lot more party than you were expecting and you had had a lot more to drink than you were expecting.

A couple hours later and the party had died down to just team and better halves and all of you congregated around the fire he had going in the backyard. You were sitting on grass between Colton’s legs, another drink in your hand. Colton had offered you his chair and his lap, but you declined both to sit on the grass. You were quite comfy there.

You looked up from the fire towards Vince who was smiling. If you were sober you would have been scared of what his ‘great’ idea would be, but you were too warm and happy to care.

“What’s your bright idea?” Sammy bit.

“We should play truth or drink. We could finally get some details out of some of you.” He said, looking across the fire at some of the guys. You had no idea what he was implying, but you figured it had to do with some of the players holding back some details of their personal life.

You weren’t bothered by it and if they were to play truth or drink, you would play too, though you figured you might have a harder time coming up with questions. But that was fine. And you were just a friend, you didn’t have any information that they were after. So, you would be happy to just sit by the fire and nurse your drink and maybe pick up on some funny stories.

And that was how you got roped into a game of truth or drink with the St Louis Blues.

You weren’t totally listening to what was happening around you if you were being honest. You were content just sitting there, watching the fire. And Colton’s leg was warm against your side as you leaned against him. You smiled and laughed here and then, catching some funny comment or dirty secret spilt from one of the guys or their better half around the fire, but mostly it was just background noise.

That is until Vince called your name.

“What?” You asked, pulling your eyes from the fire and scanning across the group to find the guy behind the voice. To say you were surprised to hear your name called would be an understatement. You were really not expecting your name to be called because you could spill no details about any of the team members.

Maybe you could say something about Colton, but you didn’t know what they could possibly ask you that they didn’t already know. You settled with thinking they were just going to ask you to be nice and include you. Which was why you were caught off guard when he asked you, “would you fuck Colton?”

You choked on your drink and Colton leaned forwards to rub your back soothingly while he shot daggers at his teammate. Colton confided in his friend about his feelings for you. This sort of thing was NOT supposed to happen.

The people around the fire laughed at your reaction, which only made you blush more than you already were.

“What?” You asked when you stopped choking. You could not believe your ears. Vince did not just ask you if you would fuck Colton.

“Would you fuck big blue?” He repeated, gesturing to the guy behind you. Once he was sure you weren’t choking, Colton leaned back into his chair and was careful not to look at any of his teammates. He was sure he was blushing and he just hoped the darkness of the night or the warm glow of the fire was enough to cover it up so they wouldn’t notice.

How were you supposed to even answer that? You say ‘yes’ and you could ruin things with Colton. You say ‘no’ and he could be offended. And who knows what he’ll interpret you drinking for. None of your options were appealing. I mean, you would fuck Colton in a heartbeat given the chance, but you couldn’t say that.

You decided that drinking was your best bet, so you locked eyes with the guy who asked you and took a big drink of your drink, making a lot of the guys snicker at you. That only made you blush more.

“Interesting.” Vince said with a smirk. You didn’t dare look behind you at Colton. You were too afraid to see him or what expression he wore. So, you took a deep breath and asked Sammy when he lost his virginity. It was an easy enough question and it pulled some snickers from the group as they all turned their attention to Sammy.

You wanted to feel bad, but the weight left your shoulders at the attention going to someone else. You let your eyes fall back to the fire as your mind raced with how they could affect your friendship with Colton. You tried to reassure yourself that it was just a question and not to over think it, but you couldn’t snuff out the sliver of fear inside you that he could interpret things wrong and then you lose him.

You couldn’t lose him.

Colton could sense that you were off, so he gave you a little nudge with your knee. He wanted you to turn around so he could talk to you or soothe you or something. You were basically statue still sitting between his legs and he was scared about what could be going through your head.

Sure, his own head was running with your answer to the question, but he tried to shut that down. What he was feeling and what you could have meant by your answer didn’t matter, what mattered was that you were okay.

But instead of getting a good response from you from his nudge, you pushed yourself up to your feet, mumbling about needing to get another drink before you turned around to go inside. He caught your eye for a moment before you cast your gaze to the grass and walked to the back door, opening and closing it behind you softly.

When the door was closed, leaving you alone in the dim lights of the living room, you left out a shaky breath. You would be able to gather your thoughts, or try to ignore them, you weren’t picky.

You made your way to the kitchen to get another drink. They had brought a case of beer out to the fire, but you weren’t really a fan of what they drank. Colton knew that and be brought you a couple drinks that he knew you liked. They were in the fridge. And, honestly, you were never more grateful to have a drink you could easily down right now.

You pulled open the fridge and reached to grab another drink when you heard the screen door open and closed. You grabbed the drink and closed the door, looking over to see Colton standing there. He gave you a smile, but you could tell he was nervous. That only made your own nerves worse.

“Yeah?” You asked when he didn’t say anything, only wandered to the kitchen, resting his hands on the counter of the island. He was starting to really freak you out with how he was acting.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He said, giving you a smile. You could tell he was lying so you sighed and leaned against the fridge, cracking your drink open and taking a big drink.

“Tell me the truth, Colt. I can tell that something is bothering you.” You told him after you swallowed.

“I just—“ He started before he shook his head. “It’s nothing. I just couldn’t be out there without you.”

And while that was part of the truth, it wasn’t the whole truth. After you left, the truth or drink game fell quiet and all eyes turned to Colton. Everyone there knew about Colton’s feelings for you so it was a good gossip that you didn’t say ‘no’ to sleeping with him, and that you left.

They wouldn’t shut up about what this couldmean and it was driving Colton crazy so he had to leave. And, of course, he got a lot of hooting and hollering when he headed inside, but he ignored them. Nothing was going to happen anyways.

You sighed and put your drink down on the table before you walked over to him. You covered his hand with your own and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “What’s up, Colt?” Your voice was soft as you looked at him. It wasn’t like him to be like this.

He caught you off guard with his next words.

“You didn’t answer Vince’s question.” He said softly, lifting his eyes from the counter to look at you. There was something unreadable in his eyes and it made your stomach to twist more than it already was at his words. This was your worst fear, that he was offended by your lack of answer, that he was assuming bad things and you didn’t know what to do, so you just pulled your hand back from his.

“What was I supposed to say?” You asked, taking a step back. You didn’t know what to do.

Colton was quiet for a moment before he asked, “would you?”

“What?” You replied, giving him a look, your heart beginning to beat harder against your chest. You could see the back door out of the corner of your eye, but to get to it you would have to go through Colton and that just wasn’t going to happen. You knew that he would try to catch you so you didn’t dare run.

“Would you fuck me?” He asked you, his voice soft. Even though you were freaking out over everything, the way he looked at you and the way he asked you if you would fuck him sent a shiver through your body. You hated how hot you thought it was.

“Colton…” You warned, but your voice was weak. It was so hard to fight him, especially when he was looking at you like that.

“Answer me.” He told you, standing straight and moving to box you in against the counter, his arms on either side of you. “Please.”

You looked up at him for a moment and nodded your head. “I would.”

Colton was surprised, but besides a long blink, you wouldn’t know it. He kept himself composed as you confessed that you found him attractive enough to fuck. The real question was if you liked him enough to do more than fuck.

“Do you…” he started before he tried again, nerves clawing in his chest. “Would you have dinner with me if I asked?”

You smiled, your fear melting away. “I would. I would do whatever you wanted.”

“I want to kiss you.” He told you, his voice low. He surprised you with his sudden confidence, but you weren’t complaining. You let your eyes drop from his to his lips and you nodded your head.

“You should.” You breathed, your voice barely above a whisper.

Colton looked back at your eyes for a moment before leaned forwards to kiss you. His lips were soft against yours. The kiss was slow but it felt so right. You moved your hands up from your side to hold his waist. At your touch, Colton pulled back from the kiss, looking at you for a moment before he reconnected your lips in a much deeper, heated kiss. He kept one of his hands on the counter but he brought the other to your jaw, tilting your head so he could kiss you deeper and pull you closer.

When he slipped his tongue into your mouth, you couldn’t help but moan against his lips and fist his shirt in your hands.

“I really want to take you to dinner.” He said when he pulled back.

You nodded. “I would like that, but I honestly want something else with you right now.”

“Yeah?” He asked, moving a hand down to your waist but he kept it over your shirt. Colton was always a gentleman.

“I would really like you to fuck me.” You told him, going up onto your tippy toes to whisper in his ear. The breath caught in Colton’s throat and he nodded.

“Yeah, yeah I would like that too.”

You smirked and moved your hand down from his waist to pull his phone out of his pocket. “Order an Uber and let’s go back to your place.”

He took his phone from your hands and nodded.

#colton parayko #colton parayko imagine #colton parayko x reader #st louis blues imagine #st louis blues #blues imagine #blues #hockey #hockey imagine #hockey rpf #song fic series #nhl #nhl imagine #mine

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unmaskedagain · 5 years

Text

Rather be Me (than with You)

youtube

Hey everyone. This is a kind of angsty ONE-SHOT; not the usual humor and fun I usual go for. I decided to do something a bit different. I experimented with the idea of a story where Lila doesn’t get exposed. Marinette just moves on. Decides she deserves better. This ISN’T a QUEEN MARI but Marinette does realize she’s a queen.

This is Anti-Class but not Lila bashing. I didn’t not to got the normal LILA BASHING everyone usually does. Don’t get me wrong, Lila Bashing is my favorite tag in this fandom. But I wanted to do something different. Tell me what you think and if you like it.

It had been a long time since Marinette had cared about their snickering; cared that sometimes she ate alone. Marinette hadn’t given a rat’s ass about what anyone in her damn class thought. She had been done for a long time.

A year had passed since Lila created the hurricane that pretty much turned Marinette’s life upside. A year since Alya had been her best friend, since Adrien was her crush. Since Ladybug’s partner was Chat Noir, a year since she was anyone’s everyday Ladybug.

These days the other students in class ignored her, and she was fine with it. The minute Marinette stepped back and decide to say, “Fuck Them.” Lila had left her alone. The Italian girl still side-eyed her every now and then but was content to let Marinette be. One thing Lila did right was that she saw Marinette exactly as she should be seen; an unbeatable threat, and one hell of pain in the neck if she tried hard enough. For a while, Lila was sure the Marinette would expose her, that every lie she spun would come undone.

But then one day, just a few months after Lila had returned, Marinette came to school with a big grin on her face. Lila said one tall tales, and the other girl didn’t even blink. Lila still remembered that their eyes met and saw: nothing. No longer did righteous fury reside there. No hurt expression. Or tears. Just apathy, sheer indifference to everyone in class.

Lila didn’t smile that day. In fact, she found it hard to really smile for the rest of the week. Because though technically she had won, it didn’t feel like a victory. It was like the game the two girls played had resulted in a stalemate and Marinette decided the battle was over. Marinette lost all her friends. Lila had no choice but to keep up the lies, particularly, after her mother announced they wouldn’t be moving like they usually would after a few months. It took a lot of work. Lila could admit that if she had know Paris was permanent, she’d have been a little more honest.

So, in the end, neither girl won but neither girl lost.

Nevertheless, Lila was smart. She knew when to back off. And so she did. She learned quickly that if she kept Marinette’s name out of her mouth, she was golden. Lila also learned that Marinette wasn’t made at Lila. It was everyone else the Asian girl had a problem with.

Everyone else in class who quickly realized just what life was like without their everyday ladybug.

Gone was the random sweets from her parents’ bakery. Gone was the well planned birthday parties and class trips. Gone was the comforting shoulder. Gone was the friend who they could call no matter time of day or night if they needed someone to talk to. Gone was their biggest supporter. Gone was the always friendly face that promised to brighten the darkest day.

The kids learned quickly, that if they were in trouble, they were on their own. Apart from Akuma attacks, that Ladybug still showed up for. Though Ladybug had taken to ignoring the students, particularly Alya. Even going as far as to say to the teen reporter, in front of other journalists, that she doesn’t talk to tabloids; too many rumors and lies.

This had slowly but surly caused the downfall of the Ladyblog. Alya could no longer get the best scoop; no that went to Aurore who created an entire website with tips and advice and videos about and straight from Ladybug. The website fully endorsed by the hero. Alya had quickly decided that she just needed to talk to Ladybug to clear up whatever was caught the strife. It was then that Alya remembered that Marinette had gotten her that first interview, the interview that had launched the Ladyblog’s success. Marinette who she was no longer friends with.

Marinette who had it clear that she didn’t care. She didn’t are that Alya’s beloved blog had spiraled into nothing. That Nino’s music career seemed to be at an all-time standstill. That Marc and Nathaniel’s comic and partnership had gone down in flames. (Mostly because Nathaniel had taken too much of Lila’s advice and changed too much of the comic to be recognizable.) Or that Ivan and Mylene had broken up. Juleka had gone back to never showing up in pictures. Rose was in tears that Prince Ali no longer wished to speak to her. Kitty Section had broken up. Chloe was a bigger bully than ever, though she too was smart enough to stay clear of Marinette. The list went on and on, getting worse and worse.

Even the teachers realized just how much of a control presence that Marinette had. And just how lost their classrooms were without her.

But still, Marinette didn’t care.

Marinette had been screwed over. Once. Twice. A dozen times. Her best friend, her sworn bestie, hadn’t been the loyal friend she promised she was; acted nice when was so not nice. Chat Noir, Adrien, had left her to fight alone so many times that Master Fu took back his Miraculous. Screwed over by her best friend. Twice. And then by all the other kids.

Still, no one could understand how the sweetest girl could go full Ice Queen.

They had been smart enough to get Luka and Kagami to ask Marinette at the school’s end of the year party. Adrien got Kagami to ask as Marinette had taken to ignoring him for a long time by then Juleka got Luka to promise to find out. Kagami and Luka had become her closest friends. And the fact that her classmates would use them to get information on her, just reminded Marinette just how done she was.

She was so done.

So after the two had asked. Instead of answering, Marinette texted Colton, her friend, and DJ of the party. Marinette needed to make something clear.

When the song, ended Marinette got on stage.

“Hey,” She said into the mic. Her hair was only a bit longer but the blue had been dyed out of it. Her skinny jeans were black and ripped and she had on a red halter top was lacy and elegant. “Someone of you might not know me. But I’ve done enough for this school and a lot the students, to know majority of you do.” Her tone was dry and her stare blank. “Over last year, I took a step back you could say from, well, bullshit.” There were laughs. Most of the students who knew of Marinette and had been affected by her kindness had reached out almost immediately when they realized something was wrong, something had changed.

Marinette looked at the students, “I got screwed over by too many times to count.” She sighed. “Turns out, a lot there’s a lot of assholes in my class.” She said bluntly. “So how do I deal with it all. In fact, how do you deal with all the drama and bullies and liars and two-faced bitches in your life? I got some advice for you. Pay close attention because it worked great for me.” The music started and Marinette started to sing.

“Here's my secret strategy

It always works because

The world doesn't end

It just feels like it does”

Marinette wasn’t the best singer but she was decent. The song wasn’t about high notes or theatrics. It was sung with grace and humor. A strong daria morgendorffer vibe.

So raise your right finger Marinette raised her right hand flicked off the entire school and looked right at her classmates. There faces turned red and their eyes were wide.

And solemnly swear

"Whatever they say about me

I don't care!"

The first few months had been hard. And full of mean looks were way and nasty remarks. Until they realized they needed her. They needed her charm. Her can-do attitude. Her to come back as class president. Her ideas. The free handmade clothes she designed.

I won't twist in knots to join your game

Rose, surprising, had been the first to try to tempt her back. The other having enlisted the second sweetest girl in class to talk to Marinette. Rose had told Marinette that if she just admitted she was wrong Lila and apologize, they’d take her back. Marinette had told her to fuck off.

I will say, "you make me mad."

And if you treat me bad

I'll say "you're bad"

And if I eat alone from this moment on

That's just what I'll do

'Cause I'd rather be me, I'd rather be me

I'd rather be me than be with you

Marinette had eaten alone for weeks until she made she found real friends in other classes, both upper and lower grades. That was when Marinette found out that she was well-liked by the majority of the school. And the majority of the school didn’t buy Lila’s lies.

We're supposed to all be ladies

And be nurturing and care

Is that really fair?

Boys get to fight, we have to share

Marinette found new friends, made new plans, her schedule filled up again, and she was happy. That was when the rumors started. Alya and Alix, leading the charge, had taken upon themselves to tell Marinette new friends what a bully she was and the rest of the school as well. They got upset when no one believed them.

They got even more upset when they realized Marinette didn’t care. At all. However, when Alix had taken it too far, he had decided to get physical and trip Marinette in the lunchroom….

Here's the way that turns out

We always understand

How to slap someone down

With our underhand

Marinette got up, pulled her arm back, and knocked Alix’s lights out. “Don’t try that shit again,” Marinette had warned her ex-friends. “I have no problem kicking each and everyone one of your asses.”

She got a week’s detention but she smiled all the way through.

So here's my right finger Marinette flicked off the school again; waved it around so everyone could see it.

To how girls should behave

'Cause sometimes what's meant to break you

Makes you brave

So I will not act all innocent

I won't fake apologize

From then on, it was everyone understood that a new Marinette walked the halls. One that didn’t care about being nice. How ladies should behave. She refused to apologize after a fight. And she never backed down from an agreement.

Turns out losing all her friends didn’t break her. It made her braver. In a way Ladybug never managed to before then.

Let's just fight and then make up

Not tell these lies

Let's call our damage even

Clean the slate till it's like new

Marinette never gave in; even when the ice out happened. All the kids in her class ignored her, they didn’t say a single word to her. Refused to pair with her. Didn’t even acknowledge her existence.

It's a new life for me

Where I'd rather be me

I'd rather be me

Than be with you

The once bluenette just laughed at their childish antics. She didn’t bat an eye as they wanted her too. She didn’t understand why they couldn’t fight like normal people. Or the very at least call the war done, the damage even on both sides, and then move on with clean slates.

I'll say, "NO!"

NO!

I'll say, "knock it off,

with your notes and your rules and your games."

Marinette had just gone: NO. No. She wasn’t going to play their little games. Do anything to make it even remotely look like she card. It was over. She was done. It was all just a waiting game.

Waiting for them to grow up and realize, it was game over. There was no magical way their friendship would ever be restored. They should move, let go. Find something better. Accept the loss and learned to live with it.

Like she’d done with Lila. Marinette hadn’t been happy with the results of their chess game but she could live with it. Move on. Got a new life.

And those sycophants who follow you, Marinette turned her attention to the pretty Italian girl. If Lila ever came after her again… Or when her kingdom of lies fell, and there was no doubt it would. Marinette would be there to watch it burn.

I'll remember all their names, She sang to Lila who nodded having understood. Even she knew her time was running out. Though Lila wouldn’t just hand over her power willingly. No, Lila knew it would have to dragged away from her bloody hands before she let it go. Lila would fight. It was just the way she was.

The one thing Marinette liked about the girl.

Alya was getting desperately. Eventually, she’ll realize the answer to all her problems lay in the comments on her blog. All questioning why she was promoting such an obvious liar. And when she did… There would be hell to pay.

And when they drag you down

Like they inevitably do

I will not laugh along with them and

approve their palace coup, 'cause that's not me. She promised her once the greatest enemy. (Hawkmoth’s was Ladybug’s.) That caused Lila to smile.

Because when the faux-faced kids turned their ire onto Lila. When they dragged her through the same torment they put Marinette though. At least the wannabe Volpina wouldn’t have to worry about the once Every Day ladybug.

In fact, if Lila played her cards right, and she nearly always did. She’d find an alley to teach her. Teach her not to care. Teach her to be stronger. Teach her out to say “Fuck you” to the world.

Because Marinette no longer cared enough to have any reason not to. Granted she could just say, “I. Don’t. Want. To.” Like she did frequently these days.

Janis. Janis. Janis. Janis

I don't need their good opinions

I have plenty of opinions

Everybody has opinions but it doesn't make them true

Marinette didn’t care what her old friends thought. Or that they didn’t like her. Who cared? So what if they thought she was a bully? Or a jealous liar. Or a bad friend. Or the new Ice queen.

She shrugged. She had a lot to say about them to. And sure she bitched with Luka, Aurore, and Kagami but it wasn’t serious. It was just to vent. Because who cared?

What's true is being me

And I'd rather be me

I'd rather be me than be with you.

So raise them high 'cause playing nice and shy is insulting my IQ

Marinette had no problem being a bitch if they pushed. She was no longer shy and sweet and far too nice for her own good. Because she had learned her lesson.

And, Marinette thought, she learned it was so well that life rewarded. She was making clothes for Clara and Jagged. Worked with Chloe’s mom. She had an internship with Teen Vogue, in New York, that summer. Won several design contests. Got to see one of her designs on the red carpet worn by an up and coming actress that Jagged recommended her to.

The actress said the brand was MDC, created by a kickass teenager name Marinette. That dress got the actress on the best-dressed list, and Marinette twenty more commissions by other almost, or kind of famous celebrities.

Yeah. Yeah. Yeah

I'd Rather Be Me

So maybe I should thank you. Marinette adlibbed the line but sang it directly to Lila who smirked as she knew exactly what the other girl was referring to.

While Marinette would never say it, Lila knew, she had done the girl a favor. Showed her who her real friends were. Or weren’t. And without them, without the niceness and overly caring nature she once had, Marinette had thrived; gone further than Lila ever imagined.

Lila had only wanted them because she liked the attention. However, she knew they weren’t real friends. No matter what Alya said, they weren’t besties. Lila didn’t trust the glasses-wearing girl as far she could throw her.

Because now I know…

I'd Rather Be Me than be with you!

Most of her classmates looked sad. A few looked angry. Lila just looked up at her used to be nemesis with admiration and a small smile.

A brief look of wonder and hope flashed over her face and for a moment she of just saying “To hell with it.” Screaming her sins and go binge watch Grey’s anatomy. Take up dance class when summer was over and the new school year began. She always loved dancing.

It was the only thing Lila knew was honestly good at; great at even.

But that moment passed. Lila liked her power. Besides, there was a good chance she could make everyone think Alya was crazy or lying to convince to save her blog; that Lila wasn’t the liar.

Lila smirked. She had all summer to slowly leave breadcrumbs that Alya was reading too much into the situation, was too desperate, didn’t know what she was talking about. By the time the summer ended, Lila could have all other students convinced the once future great journalist had just lost her edge. So much so that it was reason Ladybug dissed the Ladyblog.

Alya wouldn’t be a challenge like Marinette had been. Not even close. Marinette had been the Sherlock to Lila’s Moriarty. (If Marinette had kept the game going, Lila would’ve too. Until it was a full-scale war. No prisoners. Just blood; both metaphorical blood and the real red stuff.)

Alya would be too easy. But it would still be fun. Even if Alya managed to pull a fast one, there was no way their little friendships would survive what they did to Marinette. Not all the blame could be put on Lila, no matter how much they tried.

And when Marinette didn’t come back after the truth was revealed and they begged and apologized for never believing her; for not trusting her. Blame would shift. Especially if Lila changed classes like she knew Marinette had to be at least considering.

I'd Rather Be Me

Because, Marinette would never be their friend again. They were just pawns in the game of life. And Marinette realized that while pawns could become queens. They never went back to being pawns again.

I'd Rather Be Me

I'd Rather Be Me than be with you!

Marinette was doing just fine. She wasn’t their friend. She didn’t like them.

And most importantly, Marinette didn’t care.

#ml salt fic #ml salt #marinette dupen chang #Marienette Dupain Cheng #Queen mari #alya salt #lila salt #saltinette #miraculous of salt #Nobod #nobodyfamousposts

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strawberriestyles · 4 years

Text

Chapter 20

(Banner made by sweet sunshine @harry-nofookingway-styles)

Harry X OFC (AU)

Sequel to Brutality: In which Melody and Harry must relearn how to navigate one another among a flurry of changes.

Read previous parts here.

Author’s note: Heyoooo. Only like 10 chapters left omg can you BELIEVE?? Get ready for some excitement tho I’m not done throwing y’all curveballs. ;) ANYWAY. Enjoy this one, my loves. When you’re finished reading, this is a here’s a masterpost of petitions. Find one you haven’t signed yet. AND THEN COME TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THE CHAPTER!! BIG SMOOCHES.

Harry and Melody spent Saturday morning curled up under the sheets, recovering from their late night, when Melody hadn’t been able to fall asleep for hours. Eventually, toward midday, Harry coaxed her out of bed and they each packed a bag. He had no clue what he was supposed to wear to this party. And when he asked Melody, she smiled mischievously at him.

“Actually,” she began, “I bought you an outfit.” She giggled to herself, and Harry was so glad to hear her laughter after the night before that he wasn’t even bothered by her picking out his clothes. Until she followed up with, “You’re gonna hate it.”

Harry groaned, stuffing a pair of socks roughly into his suitcase.

“It’s in my suitcase already. Do you wanna see it?” Melody asked.

He shook his head. “Absolutely not. I might decide not to go.”

Melody thought he was probably right. She continued to pile things into her suitcase until she felt satisfied that she wasn’t forgetting anything, and then she sat on the edge of the bed while Harry dug through the closet for clothes to wear that day. She could tell he was agitated. He threw four different pairs of jeans across the floor, as if he was looking for something less casual, but Melody knew that the only other things he owned were sweatpants or athletic shorts.

“Harry,” she said, interrupting his frustrated rummaging. “Just wear the jeans. The black ones are fine.”

“Are they?” he asked, turning around and leaning against the closet door.

“Yes.” She nodded toward a rumpled pair that he’d tossed. “They’re fine. Does it look like I’m wearing a dress?” She gestured toward her outfit—a simple pair of black leggings and a chunky yellow sweater, old enough to be fraying at the edges.

Harry pulled at his lower lip and then let out a defeated breath, reaching for the black skinny jeans to pull them on over his briefs. He turned back toward the closet when he’d done up the button, but Melody spoke before he could begin picking through his clothes again.

“Just a t-shirt,” she encouraged. “Whatever you want to wear is fine, Harry.”

He muttered under his breath, something that Melody couldn’t make out, reaching for a plain blue t-shirt and pulling it over his head before he could second guess the decision. He smoothed the cotton down on his abdomen and then made his way back to the mattress, zipping up his suitcase. Melody was watching him when he looked at her next, and his lips formed an unhappy frown as he studied her face.

“Your parents are gonna think I fuckin’ beat yeh,” he whispered, grasping the back of her jaw to turn her head, examining her skin. Somehow, a good portion of her jawline seemed unharmed. Most of the bruises were faint, and without looking for them, they might go unnoticed. But the one on her chin was dark and splotchy. Although they’d iced it before going to bed, there was no hiding that one.

Melody caught Harry’s wrist before he could prod at the bruise. She shook her head incredulously. “I would tell them the truth before I let them think that, Harry.”

“Yeh’re ready to tell them that?” he asked, raising a doubtful eyebrow. “That yeh’re fightin’ in illegal boxin’ matches?”

Melody drew in a long breath before she let go of Harry’s hand, looking down while she picked at the hem of her sweater. “Not really.”

“I didn’ think so.”

“But if it came down to it,” she insisted. “If that’s what they thought, I would tell them the truth.”

Harry licked his lips, watching her fingers work at a loose string. “Do we have another explanation?” he asked. The thought made him tense. He hadn’t even met these people yet, and already he was concocting lies to feed them. How could they ever like him when this was their first impression?

“We can just say I f—”

“Do not say yeh fell,” Harry dismissed with a roll of his eyes. He could still remember her using that excuse on him, and the annoyance he felt then blossomed in his belly all over again. “Yeh’re not fuckin’ clumsy, Melody. Tha’s a horrible story.”

“Well, what’s your idea, then?” she prompted, folding her arms together.

“Jesus, I dunno.” He shrugged, looking around the room for something that could’ve caused a bruise like the one she was sporting.

“Fine. Bea slammed a door into my face.”

Harry looked at her again, frowning. “Well, tha’s rude.”

Melody shrugged. “It was an accident.”

“And it bruised your chin?” he asked. "Didn’ hit your nose?”

She turned her eyes upward, thought for a moment, and then added, “There was a spider on the ceiling. I was looking up. She was coming to kill it.”

Harry scoffed. “Why wasn’ it me?”

Melody let out an airy laugh, lowering her gaze, noticing the crease between his brows. “Do you wanna tell my dad you slammed a door into my face?”

Harry pursed his lips and then gave a short, acquiescent nod. “No, tha’s fine. It was Bea.”

Melody glanced at the clock on the bedside table as she laughed. She tilted her head when she saw that it was only just after noon. “I say we watch a movie before we go.”

“What?” Harry followed her gaze to the clock. “Yeh don’ wanna get there—”

“Unless you wanna spend extra quality time with my mom?”

Harry pressed his palms to his face. He was still tired, and the strange feeling in his gut wasn’t excitement for the day. It was closer to nausea. “What movie?”

***

Harry’s knuckles were chalk-white on the steering wheel of the car he and Melody had rented. His other hand was curled up into a fist in his lap. Melody had been playing Fleetwood Mac through the stereo for the past two hours, but it wasn’t having the effect that she’d hoped. Harry didn’t seem to be able to hear anything. And he hadn’t spoken a word since only a few minutes after they’d left.

“Hey. Hey.”

He blinked, turning to glance briefly at her before watching the road again. She was staring at him, a deep-set frown on her face. “What?”

“Harry, relax.”

“‘M fine.”

Melody rolled her eyes, watching him adjust his grip on the wheel, the skin over his knuckles loosening and then tightening all over again. She reached out to touch his arm. “Switch hands.”

“What?”

“Harry, switch your hands.”

He sighed, placing his fisted hand on the wheel and peeling the other away, stretching it out. Melody pulled his hand from the air, flattening his palm against her thigh and kneading his stiff fingers.

“I can tell when you’re worked up, okay?” she said. “Don’t tell me you’re fine.”

Harry wetted his lips, drawing in a deep breath. Melody stretched his fingers out when she was done massaging them. Then she lifted his hand to her mouth, pressing kisses to the old scars that shone across his knuckles. When she was finished, she laid his hand back in her lap, open, and gently traced the lines in his palm. She could almost feel the tension draining from him.

“Are you scared to meet my parents?”

Harry eased onto the brakes as traffic slowed and muttered, “‘M not scared.” He blinked languidly, shivering as Melody’s fingers drew up the inside of his wrist.

“Nervous, then,” she amended. “You know their opinions don’t mean anything to me, right?”

Harry frowned, looking at her fully when their lane came to a standstill. “They’re your family.”

“Sure.” She nodded, leaning her temple into the headrest. “But how they feel about you isn’t going to affect how I feel. I love you, okay? I think they’ll see that, too.”

Harry’s gaze was repeatedly drawn to the ugly bruise at Melody’s chin. He sighed, turning to face the street again, creeping forward as the line of cars began to move again. “How much do they know about me, anyway?”

“Some.” Melody glanced out the window. It was a dreary day. Old snow was still packed along the sides of the highway and thick clouds hung in the sky, letting only occasional sunlight filter through. “I had to tell them about Colton,” she continued. She hated saying his name. “I mean, you were in a coma for months, and I didn’t finish my semester and I wouldn’t come home. And I told them you were a boxer, but I left out a lot of the details. My dad thought that was cool.”

Harry snorted. Melody smiled at the sound, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

“I didn’t tell them about your mom,” she said, turning to look at his profile. She curled her fingers between his, keeping his hand in her lap. “Or your dad. Or anything else, really. They know we used to go to school together.”

Harry nodded, drawing in a deep breath. He hesitated before he spoke again. “You don’ think they...blame me for yeh bein’ out of classes?”

Melody’s brows furrowed. She leaned closer to him, confused. “Do you think that’s your fault?”

He was silent, his eyes unmoving.

“Harry,” Melody said, “you can’t take the blame for any of that. Not finishing my semester—that’s because what happened was really traumatic for me. No one could’ve expected me to do schoolwork. I think my parents understand that.”

“But yeh’re still not takin’ classes when—”

“I wasn’t ready. And that still isn’t your fault.” She couldn’t believe he had been blaming himself for the time she’d taken off from school. Were there other things he felt he was responsible for? “Whatever you’re thinking about yourself, whatever’s going on in your head, no one else is thinking that. Least of all my parents. They haven’t even met you yet.”

“Can’ believe you want them to,” he muttered.

“Harry.” She groaned in frustration, squeezing his hand. “Why wouldn’t I want them to meet you? Do you hear anything I say to you?” She shook her head. “I love you. I’m in love with you.”

Harry pressed his lips tightly together, giving Melody's hand a squeeze in return.

“Just try to relax, okay?” She stroked his knuckles. “It’s not going to be as horrible as you think it is,” she insisted, reaching across the console to comb hair back from his face. It was getting a little long, a little harder to tame, a bit bothersome as it tickled his cheeks and neck, and she often caught him pushing at it. “Oh, they also think I’m working at a bookstore, okay?”

Harry shook his head. “Right.” He couldn’t imagine how they would react if they learned the truth.

They lapsed back into silence, nothing but the quiet music for sound. Harry seemed lost in his own world again for the rest of the drive, but at least he seemed more at ease. His hand no longer seemed painfully tight on the wheel, and the hand in Melody’s lap, which had been clammy when she’d first taken in, was no longer radiating heat. But he pulled away from her as she directed him down her street and he turned into her parents’ driveway, putting the car into park. A four hour drive and all of the effort Melody put into keeping him relaxed, and suddenly his nerves reignited.

He leaned forward, shaking his head as his eyes scanned the property. The house itself was large and looming. There was a fountain running in the front garden, stone siding around the front porch, flowerbeds stretching around the garage. “This is your house?”

Melody sighed. “I know it looks like a lot, but that’s only because my dad built it. If he didn’t, we wouldn’t have been able to afford half of this.”

“Oh God, Mel,” he murmured, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead into the top of the steering wheel. He hadn’t turned the engine off yet. “What the fuck am I doin’ here?”

Melody shook her head. “Harry, I told you that you didn’t have to come.”

“I know,” he said, looking up at the house again. He didn’t think he’d ever been inside a home that looked this expensive before. “Fuck, I know what yeh said.”

“You’re gonna be fine,” Melody murmured. She reached for him, lifting his face away from the wheel. “Come here.”

Harry leaned toward her, trying to take a deep breath, and then she was kissing him. Her fingers tucked hair behind his ears before she cupped his jaw, lips pressing comfort into him somehow even more firmly than any words. He wrapped a hand around the back of her neck, holding her in place, kissing her until he’d begun to forget why he was nervous in the first place.

“It’s okay,” she whispered as she pulled away, sensing the shift in him, still running her thumbs along his jaw. “Really. Look, my dad’s truck isn’t even here.” She pointed out the empty space where he usually parked. “You’ll just meet my mom for now.”

Somehow, that calmed him. Harry glanced at the house once more. Melody’s hands fell into her lap. She waited for him to say something, but all he offered was a soft “okay” before he twisted the key in the ignition, cutting the engine, and threw open his door to step out of the car. They collected their suitcases from the back seat and trailed up to the porch. Harry tried to flatten out the wrinkles in his shirt as Melody rang the doorbell. The sound of it chiming inside the house made Harry’s heart leap in his chest.

It was only a moment before the door opened. Melody’s mother stood there in a bright green dress, a curious smile on her face as she glanced at Harry over Melody’s shoulder. And when her eyes trailed down to his jeans, he tried not to shift in discomfort. “Hi, sweetheart,” she greeted Melody, leaning in to give her a hug. “I thought you’d be here earlier.”

“I had to run into work for a bit,” Melody lied. Harry tried to keep his face neutral as her mom stepped back and directed her attention to him.

“You must be Harry.”

He gave her a curt nod. He could see Melody in her features, in the thin bridge of her nose and the set of her eyes. “Nice to meet yeh, Mrs. Rhoden.”

“Beth,” she corrected, smiling. “You went to school with Melody when you were younger?”

“For a few years.”

“What a small world,” Beth said, finally stepping back to allow them inside.

***

Harry wasn’t shocked to see that the inside of the house looked just as upperclass as the outside. He and Melody had escaped to her bedroom only a few minutes after they arrived, after the short greetings with her mother, to put away their suitcases. He had very nearly laughed when he saw that her walls were painted a bright bubblegum pink. Books were stacked sideways on a set of shelves in one corner, overflowing onto the floor, and there were stuffed animals piled up in the next corner.

“What’s so funny?” she’d demanded.

“Nothin’,” he'd said with a grin. “Absolutely nothin’.”

They ate dinner with Beth, and it really wasn’t nearly as bad as he’d been prepared for. She asked simple questions about him, about where he’d lived, about his family, and he didn’t have trouble answering her truthfully. She already knew about Colton, and explaining about his mother and the lack of contact with his father was somehow easier than it had ever been.

“Why don’t we go for a walk?” Melody had asked when they’d finished eating. She was surprised by how well Harry was handling interacting with her mom, especially after his behavior when they’d arrived. And she was even more shocked by the way he had opened up. She never expected him to reveal so much information about himself, especially to someone he’d only just met, but she didn’t want him to get overwhelmed. “We could walk to Littlewood.”

“The school?”

She’d nodded and Harry had agreed, so they’d bundled up and set out along the sidewalk.

Melody almost regretted her suggestion by the time they reached the school. It was cold and dark, with only the occasional streetlight to illuminate their path. And somehow she’d ended up with snow in her left boot, melting into her sock. But Harry didn’t seem bothered at all. His breath was condensing into clouds before him as he looked at the front doors to the building. Being here felt incredibly strange, like he was somehow sorting through someone else’s memories.

“How’re we gonna get in?” he asked after a few moments.

Melody turned to him in confusion, only half of his face visible in the moonlight. “In? You wanna go inside?”

“Sure.” He shrugged before peeling his gaze from the doors, his lips turning upward in amusement as he caught sight of her expression. “Are yeh scared?”

“To break into a building? It makes me nervous, yeah.”

Harry snorted. “Mel, yeh’re already a criminal.”

“But it would be kind of impossible for me to go to jail when half the city’s police force is in on the crime,” she protested. “What happens if we get caught here? Is Brian gonna vouch for us, make sure any charges are dropped?”

“If he needs to,” Harry answered with an affirmative nod. “Owes us, doesn’t he?”

Melody chewed on her lip, studying his face for some hint of humor, but he seemed genuine. He wanted to go inside. And he didn’t think they’d get into any trouble. She wasn’t quite convinced, but she sighed and swept her gaze along the length of the school anyway. It was cold out here and a short wander through the halls might offer some relief.

“Maybe there’s an open window into one of the classrooms,” she muttered.

Harry was grinning when she looked at him again. She watched his bright smile disappear in the darkness as a rolling cloud overtook the moon, and then he was tugging at her coat sleeve, pulling her hand from her pocket and lacing his fingers with hers. He led her toward the closest window, using his free hand to test if it gave, but it was latched, so he dragged her along to the next window.

They continued like that, around the side of the building, Melody shivering, until Harry pulled upward on a window that squeaked in protest.

“We have a winner,” he whispered. Although there was no one around, it felt right to stay quiet. Breaking into buildings didn’t seem like an activity that required any sort of volume. He let go of Melody and used both hands to pry the window open farther, wide enough that he would be able to fit his body through the opening.

Melody stuffed her hand back into her pocket, turning around to make sure that they weren’t being watched. The closest house was past a thin line of trees, but the moon was uncovered now, and if someone were to look, she didn’t think they’d have much trouble catching the two of them.

“Let me go first,” Harry murmured, reaching for the windowsill and poking his head inside.

“Wait,” she hissed, grasping his elbow to hold him in place. A sudden thought had occurred to her. “Harry, aren’t there cameras?”

He pulled back to look at her, frowning. “Probably. But yeh think they run through the feeds without a reason?” Turning his body, he leaned back against the brick wall, pulling Melody toward him. He saw how red her nose was and pressed his hands to her cold cheeks, warming her skin. “Mel, we’re not gonna leave any clues that we were here. Why would they check the video?”

She merely shrugged.

“Do yeh not wanna come in with me?” Harry asked.

“No.” She shook her head quickly. “I mean yes, I’ll go.”

“Okay.” Harry delivered a quick kiss to her lips, then shifted back to the window, he lifted himself through the opening, feet first, and his shoes squeaked against the tile floor of the classroom he landed inside. He glanced around, and in the bit of light leaking through the window behind him, he could see books lining the shelves along one wall.

“C’mere,” he said, turning back around to reach for Melody. She swung a leg over the sill, holding his shoulders as he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her inside. “Watch your head.”

She landed in front of him and immediately wrinkled her nose. “It smells like bleach in here.”

Harry nodded in agreement. “Smells like school.”

The moon disappeared again and the classroom grew dark. Harry’s eyes struggled to adjust to the loss of light as he took a couple steps forward, in the direction he remembered seeing the door to the hallway.

“Jesus, fuck—” His foot caught on the leg of a desk, sending it squealing across the tiles. He caught himself on the next seat before he could fall, but he swore again under his breath.

Melody was laughing behind him. “Glad I’m not the clumsy one.”

“Oh, yeah?” Harry turned to glare at her, but he couldn’t make out her face in the darkness. “Can you see?”

Her laughter took a moment to fizzle out. He heard her step toward him. “Are you okay?”

“‘M fine,” he grumbled.

“Why don’t you turn your flashlight on?”

He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out his phone, blinking quickly as light suddenly filled the room. Melody swung the desk that he’d tripped over back into place as she moved in his direction.

“Take your boots off,” Harry said, lifting a foot to strip off his shoe.

Melody frowned. “What?” She turned and followed a trail of water back to the window when he shone the flashlight on his phone in that direction. She sighed, slipping her feet free. Harry waited for her, and then led her out into the hall, making sure the door stay unlocked, leaving their boots in the classroom.

Harry made his way along, Melody on his tail, shining his light at the walls as they walked. He recognized a few of the teachers’ names. It took a few minutes to figure out where they’d come in and then he knew what direction they needed to go. Melody didn’t have a clue where they were going until they were standing in front of a familiar row of lockers. She scanned their surroundings when Harry stopped and she pictured the scene all over again. Harry, much younger, much smaller, shoved inside one of these lockers while the taller boys laughed.

“Was it this one?” she asked, stepping forward and placing her hand on a locker.

Harry shook his head and patted the metal door of the one beside her. The sound echoed through the empty hall.

“Never liked small spaces,” he muttered, pulling the latch to swing the locker open, peering at the schoolbooks and binders that it now held.

“You’re claustrophobic?”

Harry shrugged. Melody was floored. She never thought he was scared of anything. Logically, she knew that he had to be, but he didn’t seem at all fearful of Colton. Just hateful. Claustrophobia?

She hummed, linking her arms at her chest.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Tha’s not your ‘nothin’’ face.”

Melody snorted and lifted one shoulder. “I just didn’t see it, I guess.”

“Yeh didn’? Feel like yeh woulda picked that one up real fast.”

Maybe he was right. The more she thought about it, the more claustrophobia seemed an obvious dread. Harry, however complex and confusing she found him, liked control. He liked using his body as a tool, placing himself in or out of situations, forging his own path. An inescapable space, a locker that constrained his movements, these weren’t surprising aversions.

“A little slow on the uptake there,” Melody whispered.

Harry turned away from her, staring into the depths of the shallow locker. He slammed the door shut again and rapped his knuckles against its surface once more.

“I went to the gym in the next town over that night.” Melody wanted him to look at her, but he was gazing down the opposite hallway. “Told my mum I had a club meetin’ or somethin’.”

“And what did she do when you got in your first fight?”

Harry’s lips puckered. “Was proud of me that first time. For stickin’ up for myself. But the next time I started the fight on my own.”

“She wasn’t as happy with you?”

Harry shook his head. “No. Sounded like she was about ready to hit me herself.”

Melody frowned, playing with the catch of the locker Harry had been stuck inside on that day so far removed from now. “She didn’t, did she?”

“No,” Harry said, turning back toward her. “No, she’s never laid a hand on me. My dad didn’ either, actually. He’s just a dick.”

Melody snorted and gave an understanding nod. She glanced at Harry when a thin silence pressed between them and she was surprised when he broke it. Surprised at the way he broke it.

“Yeh’re the reason I didn’ hate myself,” he muttered, “for the rest of the time I was in school. If yeh hadn’ said anythin’ to me...”

Melody shook her head vigorously. “I didn’t save you any heartache, Harry.”

“No,” he agreed, “but I think yeh made it all less miserable. I didn’ just lie down and take it. And my mom kept me safe at home, and then she couldn’. If I didn’ start fightin’ back, maybe Colton would’ve killed me before I graduated.”

Melody’s blood ran cold and she shook her head again, as though it could clear her mind of the idea.

“Point is,” he continued, “yeh were the catalyst for me. For a lot of who I am. That gym, those people, what I learned—I wouldn’ be here without all of that.”

Melody glanced down the hall in the direction that Harry had been staring. His logic felt like a stretch. But she felt his eyes on her, heavy and warm and intense. And the next thing she new it was his hands on her. They snuck under her coat, beneath her t-shirt, settling on her hips, and he pressed her back against the lockers so quickly that her breath abandoned her.

Their eyes met in the semi-darkness. Harry leaned in until their foreheads met, until Melody could taste his air. His fingers shifted up her waist. She wasn’t surprised when he kissed her, but she still hadn’t recovered her breath and she gasped for it in the brief parting of their lips.

“Let me fuck you,” Harry whispered, shuffling forward until his hips pinned her in place.

Melody’s fingers grasped at the short locks of hair that brushed his ears and settled her head back against the locker, attempting to separate herself from him enough to speak, but there was nowhere for her to go. He was too large, too enveloping, and her words barely felt like they had space enough to leave her tongue. They were quiet and short. “What, here?”

Harry swallowed up her next breath, tightening his hold on her waist and leaning more of himself into her. He traced the inside of her lip with his tongue and reveled in the way she opened up. Her toes slipped against his feet as she tried to gain traction and he fed an arm behind her for support, crushing her to him. The last time they’d been here together they were nearly the same size and height, and now he was lifting her just for their mouths to meet. “Fuck,” he muttered between her lips, “please let me. Let me in.”

Melody could feel him hardening in his jeans. She swallowed down the thick sensation in her throat. She searched for words, something intelligible, but her mind couldn’t organize anything coherent. It only screamed Harry, Harry, Harry in an endless chant. So she nodded, barely even a movement in the little space she was granted, but his mouth returned, greedy and harsh, all sharp teeth and bruising lips. He’d never kissed her like this, never handled her so recklessly. Her toes could no longer find purchase on the tiles. And she couldn’t remember ever wanting him so badly, so desperately that it made her sick to her stomach, but she was nauseous with it.

Harry lowered her to the ground and clawed at the fastenings of her jeans. The loss of pressure made her somehow needier. Her lungs couldn’t expand far enough to grant her the air that she craved, and Harry’s mouth disappeared long enough for him to glance down at his hands before he kissed her again, so hard that her head hit the lockers. She was kicking frustratedly at her pants, trying to free her feet, and she barely tripped out of them before Harry was shoving her panties down her thighs, nearly ripping them.

Melody was beginning to sweat beneath her coat as she shimmied free from her undies. Her fingers dug into Harry’s shoulders as she finally kicked them off, and she didn’t have a moment to prepare before he angled one of her thighs up and sank himself inside her.

She choked on an intake of air, her upright leg shaking. She hadn’t noticed him undoing his own pants, but he’d obviously gotten them open and she could feel the metal of his zipper pressed again her skin, his boxers tugged down just enough to free his cock. Harry grunted against her chin as he drove himself into her again.

Melody’s ears rang for a moment. A chunk of her hair was stuck in a metal piece of the locker behind her and it pulled against her scalp with each one of Harry’s thrusts. All she could hear was his shallow breathing, the forceful outlet of air each time his hips slapped against her, the feel of his jeans biting her thighs. And this was all she could handle, the feel of him, the sound of his strained panting, the lingering taste of his mouth. Neither one of them seemed able to find enough extra energy to speak.

Harry’s head knocked into Melody’s chin as his bared teeth searched for her throat. He could feel her pulse beneath his tongue, taste the sweat that was beginning to collect along her skin. The roots of his own hair were growing damp and the knowledge that he was working her just as hard only sharpened the force behind his thrusts. But this angle was wrong. It made everything harder, from the way he held Melody’s thigh to the angle of her hips.

Melody gasped when Harry pulled out of her, peeling her heavy eyes open to stare up at the ceiling. He dropped her thigh, let her feet return to the floor, and she stumbled to find balance before he spun her around and pressed her flat against the lockers. His knee separated her legs enough to fit himself back between them. His hands lifted her hips until she rose onto her toes and he buried his cock back inside of her.

A sharp, shrill noise left Melody’s throat. She turned her face until her cheek rested flush against the locker at her front, skin already warming the cold metal. She wanted desperately to peel off her coat but Harry’s torso flattened against her back, pressing the material even tighter to her. His breath stirred the hair at the top of her head, warming and slicking the metal around her face.

Air hissed from between Melody’s parted lips as Harry’s hips knocked into her, as he developed a rhythm that was somehow quicker than her pounding heart, as his palm pressed into the back of her hand where it lay against the next locker. She moaned, too high, broken by a staggered thrust as Harry widened his stance. His forehead met Melody’s temple, nose to her cheek, open mouth against the corner of her jaw, just beside her ear.

“Fuck, fuck,” she muttered, so breathily that she doubted it was audible. Harry’s gasps, his carnal grunting, the grating moans that he let slip were feeding directing into her ear. He kissed her neck. He teethed the edge of her earlobe and then tilted his head to bury his nose in her hair, still heaving at the edge of her jaw.

Melody slid her hand up the lockers when she felt the first stirrings of an orgasm. She brought the edge of her thumb to her lips. Harry was forceful, vigorous, driving her closer and closer to the edge. He released a deep moan as she tightened around him and she felt her last bit of control slip.

Melody panted and whined and twitched against Harry’s chest. Her fingers wiggled beneath his hand. She constricted around his cock, drawing a deep ache from his belly, rocking his steady pace into a frenzy.

“Coming, ‘m fuckin’ coming,” he nearly sobbed, slamming the side of a fist into the locker above her head, forcing his other arm in front of her and anchoring it around her hips. He drove forward twice more, listening to the lockers rattle, listening to Melody whimper into her own wrist, until he was bursting inside of her. His fingertips twisted into her hip and he held her as close as he could get her, as deep as can be and somehow still craving something deeper. He spilled everything he had, even more than he knew he could give, and Melody clawed at the metal lockers but let him fill her until he was completely finished.

Harry winced as he slid out of her. He was tender. He hadn’t only ruined Melody, but he’d wrecked himself, and he had to be gentle as he tucked his dick back into his briefs. When he’d zipped up his jeans he felt different, like he was viewing the scene from a new perspective, removed from what they’d just done.

Melody’s cheek was still pressed to the lockers, her breath catching on her wrist, her other hand braced beside her. As Harry watched, she drew one socked foot across the tiles until her shaking legs met, but she didn’t turn, didn’t even open her eyes. Her face was twisted up and his stomach dropped, a wave of anxiety rushing through him.

“‘M sorry,” Harry said, an ache in his voice. His stomach rolled again. He lifted a hand to touch her back and then changed his mind, clenching his fingers into a tight fist. “Did I hurt you? Mel?”

She shook her head in the faintest gesture and finally lifted her cheek from the blue paint of the lockers. “No, no,” she whispered.

Her voice had cracked and Harry clenched his jaw. He’d never touched her like that before, never even faced her away from him, never been so desperate to get off that he hadn’t worried about how she felt. Because that was how he’d treated girls before her and that was not how he treated Melody. Now there was a hollow feeling in his chest.

“‘M sorry,” he repeated, quieter, more apprehensive.

“Please, don’t,” she replied. She turned around, keeping her weight balanced against the lockers. Her cheek was red where it had been pressed to them and the rest of her skin was flushed. Sweat matted loose strands of hair to her forehead. “Don’t be sorry, Harry.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m good. I swear.” The edges of Melody’s lips curled and she reached for his coat. “You didn’t hurt me. You didn’t do anything wrong. Nothing. I’m great.”

Harry took a step forward as she pulled on him, still searching her face, a deep crease between his brows. She held his jaw and her hands were cold against his damp skin, frigid as ice. He grasped her wrists, felt her pulse beneath the skin, strong and erratic, but beginning to steady.

“Yeh’re sure yeh’re okay?”

“So sure. It felt good Harry, I promise you. God, I wish I could tell you how good it felt.”

Harry swallowed back the worry that had begun to climb up his throat and exhaled. He shut his eyes, resting his forehead in Melody’s hair, a hand falling from her wrist as her fingers snaked around the back of his neck. They pressed into the muscles on either side of his spine. Her lips, wet and soft and warm, sponged at his chin, up his jawline until even her toes couldn’t lift her any farther. She sighed against his collar as she fell back onto her heels.

“Not to ruin the moment,” she whispered, barely above a breath, “but I need to get to the bathroom before I start leaking all over the hallway.”

Harry groaned a defeated sort of sound, trying to reel himself in. He backed away from Melody, letting his eyes run down her bare legs. Juices were already trickling along the insides of her thighs. She wasted no time collecting her pants and underwear from the floor. Harry tapped her bottom as she straightened up.

“Go,” he said, smirking and nodding to the girl’s room down the hall when she turned to look at him. He followed behind as she hastened through the open archway and shut herself into a stall.

“You’re still smiling, aren’t you?” she asked from the other side of the door. Delayed lights flickered on, sensing their entrance. Harry leaned against the wall across from a mirror and shrugged as he looked at his reflection.

“Yeah. So?”

“You’re so smug.”

“And?”

The toilet flushed and Harry watched Melody’s socks beneath the stall door as she slipped first into her underwear and then into her pants.

“And,” she continued, stepping back into view as she zipped up her jeans, “I don’t have anything to add.” She studied his smile for another moment before turning to wash her hands.

Harry sidled up behind her, looking at her through the mirror. “Wanted to fuck yeh before I even knew what it meant, Mel.” He tugged at the collar of her coat and placed a swift kiss where her neck met her shoulder. “Middle school me would lose his shit if he could see me now.”

Melody turned off the water and grinned up at him. “And adult you? He doesn’t lose his shit?”

“Nah,” Harry scoffed, letting Melody’s coat fall back into place and taking a step back. “Much too cool.”

She spun to face him and raised a brow. “That so?”

“‘S exactly how it is.”

She trailed the few feet to where he stood and tucked her fingertips into the waistband of his jean, nails brushing the skin at his hips. Harry’s smile morphed, teeth closing over his bottom lip but still smug.

“I think you’re wrong,” Melody whispered.

Harry took a single step back and she matched him. “‘M not wrong.”

Her brow arched further, knuckles tickling his stomach as they crept inward along his waistband. He held her stare until she popped the button of his jeans.

“Please don’ do this,” he muttered.

“Kiss me,” she said, soft, a request. Harry leaned forward to reach her lips. He’d only just brushed them with his own when Melody yanked her boots from his hand and twirled toward the hallway. “Definitely too cool.”

Harry grinned after her, watching her disappear around the corner. He fastened the button she’d undone and followed. He found her a few paces down the hall and reluctantly he lifted his watch.

“‘S almost ten, love.”

Melody whipped her head around, her expression one of disbelief. “You’re kidding.”

“‘M not.”

“Fuck.” She stuffed her hand into her pocket and fished out her phone, checking that he had the correct time. “We need to go. My dad will kill us both. Me first so you have to watch.”

“Mel, yeh’re an adult.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m immune to knives.”

Harry took one last glance at the familiar row of lockers, searing every detail of tonight into his memory, and then followed Melody as she dashed toward the classroom that they’d come in through.

Chapter 21

#harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles drabble #harry styles series #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles au #harry styles x ofc #boxer!harry #boxer!au #harry styles ferocity

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imaginesblvd · 4 years

Text

Title: Begin Again

Part 2 of 10(?)

Jaskier x reader

Sorry this took so long! I can’t put it in a ‘read more’ thing cause I don’t have my laptop 😞. So this is all done on my phone, so if there is any mistakes I’m so sorry, but I’ll fix it up when I have my laptop. I hope everyone that reads enjoys!

Contains she/her pronouns!

Yennefer walks at your side. She had come to get you around noon. The children were so happy to meet someone from your stories, despite the fact that meant every story you told them was real. You hope they don’t tell their mothers, but they will. She promises to handle the mothers should they show up in the middle of you telling her about how you and Jaskier went separate ways.

Colton showed up too, before you and Yen left the lake side. He held a basket, but since she was with you you had to skip out on lunch with him. He wasn’t too happy about that, but he didn’t say anything. He kissed your cheek, and sent you on your way.

“Are you hungry?” You ask once you open the door to the cottage

“No, but go ahead” She sits at the small table meant for two “Your boyfriend doesn't like me” she has a smirk on her face.

The sandwich you had made tastes bitter. Placing it back down as you wipe your hands on your pants. You lock eyes with her, she knows you can’t deny it. Licking your lips as you sit across from her

“Yeah, sorry” You say as you lean back in your chair, your arms cross over your chest

When silence fell over you decided to start the story. You knew where to start, and how to start it. It’s just getting it out past the lump that started to form. This wasn’t like the stories you told the children that had happy ends, this one would be about you and Jaskier.

“Are you ready?” You ask more to yourself than Yennefer, she nods.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

You sat with your back against the fluffy pillows, Jaskier’s leather clad notebook in hand. He wanted you to read one of his songs. That was over an hour ago, and you’ve read the song three times and he still hasn’t made it back yet. You decide what’s the harm in looking at the other stuff? You’ve heard all the songs, right? You just want to see his process. How far he’s come. You flip through the pages with a smile on your face. There’s parts where he scribbles out verses, made side notes, and you aren’t gonna lie, he’s gotten real good.

Flipping through the rest of the notebook, there’s a bunch of blanks. You’re about to close the book when you see the dog eared page. You don’t want to look at, you’ve already invaded his privacy by looking at the other stuff. Yet again, you’ve come this far already so why not? All the songs before you’ve heard him sing so maybe this could be another sample of this new one he’s been working on. Licking your lips you push back the feeling of guilt and open the page.

The original title is crossed out, replaced with ‘Close friends’. A smile on your lips as you read the few lyrics there. It’s not a song of Geralt and some beast, it’s a love song. The notes on the side are his second thoughts, should he even be writing it? Will she like it? You hope the one he wrote this for does because this brings tears to your eyes over how beautiful it is. You wonder who it’s about, because you know most of his friends. The ones he speaks bitterly about, the ones he speaks about that have come and gone. The only ones he has now are you and Geralt. Yet, it can’t be about Geralt because Geralt is a he, and this is about a she. You’re a she, but you don’t think it’s about you. There’s nothing here that points to you, but you could only hope and wish that it is.

“Did you read it?” Jaskier pokes his head inside as you slam the book shut

“Yes! It’s wonderful” you rush out with a nod as he walks over running a hand down his face

“Are you sure? Look at this part”

The bed dips under his weight. You crawl over, resting your chin on his shoulder as you place the book in his awaiting hands. He flips through, finding the song quickly. You watch his finger move along the paper, he’s looking for the part that doesn’t sit right with him. As he does this, you notice his hair is still damp. It’s been awhile since either of you had been able to wash properly. So he smells better than when he washed in a lake or went without for a few days. You’re sure he thinks the same thing about you.

Your eyes travel to his face, his lips moving. You tell him it is wonderful, no need for change. It’s not too formal and not too casual, he could sing it in a tavern or in some polished castle. You wait for him to agree with you, but he’s so busy whispering the words softly. Your eyes trail down from his lips to his neck. Licking your lips you wonder what would happen if you just close the gap, to press your lips against his soft skin, to nibble at the soft flesh of his neck. What kind of noises would he make? You bet it would be a whole different experience. His soft moans and groans would be music to your ears. You tear your gaze away, watching his finger move along his messy script before going back to his lips.

“Do you notice how-“ his breath catches, and your eyes flash up to his as his shaky breath fans across your face “You’re not paying attention” he whispers, a slight smirk to his lips

Heat travels up your body, feeling it in your cheeks and ears. You try to pull your eyes away to look at anything but him, but you can’t. His eyes flash down to your lips, before meeting yours once again. He leans closer, and you don’t move.

“You’re so-“ you pause as his nose brushes yours

“Can I- y/n, can I-“ he doesn’t get to finish what he was about to ask due to the fact your door slamming open.

You both turn to see Geralt. You gulp seeing that he doesn't look to be in a good mood. He has blood and guts covering his body. You get up, leaving Jaskier on your bed.

“You, Geralt, need a bath” You tell him and he just grunts in response “I’ll get it set up for you”

You go pat his chest but decide against it. You smile up at him as you side step past him. You turn in time to see Jaskier pointing a finger at him as his mouth flops open and close, his brow furrowed deep in annoyance. You bite your lip as you shake your head and head off to get Geralt set up.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The next morning you wake with a start. Geralt stands at your door that he just slammed open, he tells you to get ready. You begin to pack up as you mutter something about learning to knock. He sits on the edge of your bed, as he watches you. You’re guessing he doesn’t trust you to leave what doesn’t belong to you alone. You don’t blame him, because one time you stole something and that something came back to bite you in the ass. It wasn’t your fault though, you blame the innkeeper because he got too handsy with you during check in.

“Did I interrupt something last night?”

“What? No, why?”

He doesn’t say anything so you turn to him as you tie up the straps and pull the bag on your back. His knowing look sends heat up to your cheeks. You cock your head to the side, raising a brow and he just smiles that crooked smile that tells you he knows something's up. You know exactly what he’s talking about. You’re just not ready to address it yet.

“Hmm” Geralt stands, pointing a finger at you as he walks towards the door, you stick your tongue out at him as he leaves

Last night was nothing. Jaskier probably hasn’t even thought about it and if he has, well you both can chalk it up as being lonely. After all, you both almost kissed months ago. You even share a bed with him from time to time and he doesn’t try anything, you don’t either. So it’s nothing.

Seeing Jaskier standing by the door with his lute strapped to his back makes you wish that it could be something. You push it back, you can’t think like that. You walk over and he smiles at you, his arm wraps around you as he informs you that Geralt had given you both twenty minutes to get some food before we head off. You crack your knuckles as you let him lead you towards the market.

It didn’t feel right stealing from the market even if it’s something you had to do. Spending most of the money last night on the rooms at the tavern really set you all back. So you know this is your part in keeping all three of you alive. Geralt’s the muscle that keeps assholes and monsters away, Jaskier is the music man that brings in money from his gigs, and well obviously you do your part in stealing. It's easier to steal from those who have everything, because they could always replace it. These people can’t, this is their livelihood. You shove the thoughts away, as you do your job.

“We better get going” Jaskier rests his hand on your back, guiding you away from the market.

“It’s only been fifteen- oh” you see the big bulky man heading your way

Jaskier is quick to swerve and weave through people, his eyes land on you and he pulls you closer. He’s the best look out person you’ve ever had. It’s probably because he’s been caught so many times, or that he’s used to being chased by people that would definitely hurt him. Which means, when he’s with you he must be on high alert. Sometimes you don’t even have to look over your shoulder, because you trust him enough to keep you safe. You remember a time when looking over your shoulder was second nature. You don’t miss those days, being alone or being with people that stole whatever you’d steal when you were in the clear. So, you’re glad you ran into him.

You had to tell Geralt that someone may have caught you while you were doing your job. He chewed you out a little but when the man caught up with us apparently it was about Jaskier, he had been flirting with the mans wife and then he turned his anger to Jaskier. You don’t want to say that bothered you but it did only a little. It furthered the idea that last night was truly nothing.

You all had made good distance between you and the town you had just come from. During the walk, Jaskier would play his lute from time to time. You knew the song he was playing, the new one that you had read. Through out the walk you could feel his eyes on you, but you didn’t turn to look at him. You kept your eyes forward and wondered when the hell Geralt would call for a break. So when Geralt lead the group into some bush and said we’d make camp here, you were glad. There was a small pound near by, and a little clearing. You lowered the bag you carried and walked over to the pound, you knelt down picking up a few rocks.

“I think we should talk about last night” Jaskier’s voice made you jump a little, you didn’t even hear him coming up behind you

“About the song? The song is perfect” You say as you toss a rock into the still waters

“That’s not what I wanted to talk about and you know it” his accusing tone makes a small smile grow on your lips

“It doesn’t have to mean anything” you pause, glancing over at him and his eyes are on you “unless, you want it to mean something?”

He opens his mouth, and closes it. Your heart is beating so fast that it sounds in your ears. His eyes are searching yours. Your lips press together as you raise a brow tilting your head slightly. He looks down at his hands, flicking whatever he was fiddling with to the ground.

“Do you?” He asks back, his eyes return to you and theres a cloud of uncertainty in his eyes

It seems neither of you know what you want. It’s why you chose to say that moment was nothing. You don’t want it to distract you or consume you with thoughts of ‘what if’ because if you did let that happen you’d be going down a rabbit hole you don’t think you’d be able to climb out of.

“Jaskier-“

“Set up your things, there’s a storm coming” Geralt’s gravelly voice cause you look over at him

“Perfect timing as usual” Jaskier mumbles as he stands leaving you to sit and think.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The rain is relentless. The loud thunder shook every bone in your body, and when it would crack like a whip a little yelp would leave your lips. The lightening that followed lit up the whole meadow, and honestly you were having trouble sleeping. You tossed and turned, and just when you thought the thunder would finally stop, it roared louder than ever.

You lay on your back, kicking the blanket from your body. You run your hands down your face as you sit up. Your elbows resting on your knees. You begin to softly sing the words of Jaskier’s song. You don’t remember it to well, but the verses that stuck you sing.

You wish you could just tell him, that yes of course you want it to mean something. You want him not just his body, but his soul and everything in between. You could love him, be his and him yours. You could imagine the life you both could have together when travelling isn’t something either of you could do anymore. Sitting by a toasty fire while he sings sweet ballads to you, and you would fall deeper in love. Your little house would be sitting by a lake, and he’d make money singing in a local tavern for travellers and dunkards. He’d return with a smile on his face as he kisses you, and his arms would be so warm and welcoming, kinda like coming home after being away for so long.

This is the exact reason you didn’t want to think about last night. You try to think of all the things you don’t like about him. His sarcastic responses, bring a smile to your face. His lame jokes, that you always laugh at. This isn’t helping. His smelly feet, or his... his dammit! There’s nothing you don’t like about him, you like everything. He shouldn’t have brought up last night.

You hear a twig snap, and freeze. You hear another and then the sound of heavy foot falls. Your blood runs cold, as you slowly make your way over to the opening of your tent. You know you shouldn’t go looking, if its anything Geralt would have done something by now. Is he sleeping? Your heart is pounding hard, as you pull at the string to see what’s going on.

The lightening flashes, and you see the intruder in the night. You glare at the entrance once you moved back to make some room. Jaskier joins you inside, he smiles sheepishly as he turns to tie the tent closed again. Silence fills the air. Sitting across each other you realize that your gaze is fixated on his fingers that are wringing together. You click your tongue before sucking in a deep breath, willing yourself to meet his eyes and when you do you force yourself to keep eye contact.

“Hey” you breathe

“Hey” he softly whispers before wiping his face

“The rain... is coming down pretty hard, don’t you think?” You uncross your arms, as you scratch at your temple, nose scrunched at how stupid your questions is

“It’s more of a sprinkle, really” His tone just a little sarcastic, and you shake your head a smile playing on your lips

More silence, aside from the untimely thunder that grumbles in the sky. You watch his foot shaking and raise a brow as you meet his searching gaze. He licks his lips, and stops fidgeting all together. You finally notice the eye lash on his cheek, and you reach for it, he flinches at the unexpectedness of it. You softly apologize, and he nods for you to continue. You hesitate at first before pinching the little hair and hold it up so he could see it in the dimly lit tent

“Make a wish”

He leans forward, and blows lightly on the eye lash. It flys from your finger with a couple more blows. You wipe your hand on your pants

“What’d you wish for?”

“If I tell you, it won’t happen and I want it to happen”

The rest of the night you both sat up, talking about anything and everything. A question arose, Where would you be if you had not run into Jaskier and Geralt. You hate to admit it but you’d probably had gone back home that day, to be married off to some man with land your father wanted. Jaskier says he’d probably still be traveling from tavern to tavern singing songs that probably wouldn’t have been so good. It’s weird to think about it not knowing the two men that literally saved you from something you didn’t want, just by simply letting you tag along.

You wonder aloud, if you and Jaskier would have even met if you haven’t made those choices that brought you together.

The answer to that was simple he says, he would have stumbled into your local tavern. Played his lute for the some coin, or some shelter and you would walk into the building after hearing his wonderful voice from the street outside. He would see you from afar, and he would be so captivated by your beauty that he would have convinced you to runaway with him, so you wouldn’t have to be pawned off to some wealthy man with land. You could picture it, but you don’t think he would have made it in time to save you from marriage but you’re glad that he thinks he would have been.

Somewhere between all the talking, you had ended up laying next to him, his arm under your head for comfort. Even when the conversation had died and fell into a calming comfortable silence. You didn’t move from your spot, just turned over to rest your head against his chest so his arm wouldn’t fall asleep. His heart beating made your eyes flutter shut. The sound alone could have made you fall asleep, but when he starts to softly sing and you try to force your eyes open. You don’t want to sleep yet, you don’t want this to end. He starts to run his fingers up and down your arm, his touch feather light and adds to the soothing surroundings he’s put around you. You’re only half asleep when you feel his lips press against the top of your head, but completely asleep when he slips out from under you and leaves you.

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@the-british-koala | @dancingwith-thesunflowers |

#jaskier fanfic #jaskier x reader #jaskier imagine #jaskier fanfiction #jaskier imagines #jaskier x y/n #jaskier x you #the witcher fanfic #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher imagine #the witcher imagines #the witcher x reader

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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years

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The Only Name Left: Kauri

CW: Forced drugging, conditioning, shock treatment, beating/violence, impersonal violence, abuse/domestic abuse, referenced/implied noncon

The Keira referenced in this piece is @fairybean101‘s OC and the Colton referenced is @shameless-whumper‘s OC!

Tagging: @maybeawhumpblog, @pepperonyscience, @haro-whumps, @18-toe-beans, @burtlederp, @finder-of-rings, @giggly-evil-puppy, @whimpers-and-whumpers, @whump-it, @lumpofwhump, @pumpkinthefangirl

[ERASED] woke up with a pounding headache in a room he’d never seen before.

There were plain white tiles on the floor, plain white walls, a plain white ceiling with light that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, dim and undefined. The vaguest thick black rectangle was probably a door, but there wasn’t any handle on this side.

When he’d walked out of the library, he’d been wearing a hoodie unzipped over a T-shirt and jeans, his usual beat-up old tennis shoes. He and Keira had been studying, and it was late and pretty dark outside. [ERASED] wasn’t great with math and had hoped Keira could help him - and there had been a guy, right?

For [ERASED], there was always a guy.

There had been a guy talking him up, offering to buy him a drink at the bar off-campus even though he was underaged. He already had a fake ID, though, he’d gone to that bar like six times and they hardly ever carded anyway. He’d kind of tried to say no, but the guy was really cute, and eventually he’d said yes and left with him, Keira pissed off and right on his heels with her laptop swinging in the messenger bag against her side.

“[ERASED], god damn it, you’re the one who asked me to come study! You can’t just fuck off with the first guy who looks at you!”

“Sure as fuck can, Keer,” he’d called over his shoulder, laughing.

[ERASED] was always a sucker for a pair of dark brown eyes and the kind of guys who flashed a smile that never stayed long. He was weak in the knees for that kind of intensity, Mom and Keira both complaining he didn’t have the common sense God gave a goat.

Keira got all the common sense and the brain for math, the flash and fireworks that brought you attention - [ERASED] was fine with getting the poetry, the words, and with making his own really, really fun mistakes.

He didn’t exactly think this guy looked like the type to date, but [ERASED] wasn’t super into dating right now, anyway - and he definitely looked like a good story to tell later, maybe a new poem.

There was a van in that spot where the two circles of streetlights did not quite meet, and the guy grabbed his arms. He remembered Keira yelling, and then [ERASED] lost some time for a while.

Jostling and the pinch of a needle in his arm and zip-ties around his wrists and then nothing, nothing at all, only a fuzzy darkness

When he woke up in the white room, his clothes were gone. Instead, he was wearing a large, thin white V-neck shirt and tight black shorts, made from the same kind of fabric as Keira’s yoga pants. [ERASED] had to blink against a weird woozy feeling that settled deep inside his veins. He’d been wearing sneakers. Now he was barefoot, and his toes felt nearly numb from the cold.

There was some kind of constriction around his neck, and he lifted his hands up to feel at it. His fingertips brushed along something like smooth flat metal as wide as his palm, with some kind of rough circles that stood out from the sides. As soon as he touched it, there was a sudden surge of sharp pain that raced through every single nerve and [ERASED] let out a strangled cry, jerking his hands away, where they clutched pointlessly in the empty air.

As soon as he wasn’t trying to touch the collar, the pain receded, settled into a pulsing ache. [ERASED] heaved in gasping breaths, his hands held out, and he slowly put them back down on the floor.

He didn’t have to try that twice.

He could barely keep his eyes open - he felt drunk or on downers maybe, woozy and weak.

Distantly - outside the rectangular shape he thinks must be some kind of door, although he couldn’t see any doorknob - [ERASED] could hear a rhythmic clicking sound, like someone using a walking stick or maybe a lady wearing high heels.

The sound grew louder, passing his door before it faded away, a quick efficient movement past him to a different door down the hall. He heard some high-pitched beeps and then a woman’s voice spoke, warm and melodic.

In answer, someone else responded low and fast - it sounded like they were asking for something, saying ‘please’ over and over again.

He did not know to be truly terrified of that sound yet, but he felt the first stirrings of fear anyway. He pushed himself back against the wall, blinking rapidly, trying to shake off the dizziness that still clung to the edges of his mind.

He couldn’t remember…

Where was Keira? Why did he feel like his brain was made of sludge?

Where the fuck was he?

Kauri wakes up to the hoarse sound of his own breathing and knows exactly where he is. He can smell the disinfectant they use to process the rooms between trainees, can feel the circulated cold air chilling his skin and raising goosebumps on his arms. Under his hands, the flat tiles feel like ice, or stone.

He’s home-

No.

There’s a soft beep, muffled, and it’s not Keira because Keira’s gone, she’s gone, Owen broke her and Kauri is broken and he’s here, he’s here, he’s home. Back in the Facility. back for repairs.

Home.

Welcome home, 645898, they’d said as they shoved him in here and slammed the door.

He’s been here for days, maybe, alone in the room, just like before. It feels like his life with Owen was all one awful wonderful dream from the drugs - he used to have those, vivid nightmares he couldn’t stop when they got the dosage wrong or purposefully gave him too much. He might even think it had been a dream, if it weren’t for the bruises around his throat.

He cracks open eyes that feel glued shut, and his throat aches. It's swollen and he can barely swallow, breathes with more effort than it should take, with an audible rasp.

There are other aches, too, deeper ones, from the time between waking up on Owen's floor and when he put him in the car the next morning. Aches inside and out, the pain of Owen’s lost faith in him, how badly he had failed - and the pain of the punishment Owen had doled out until the first gray light of dawn.

When he raises one hand, slowly, he can feel the slice across his forehead, more than three inches long, shallow but healing. Not infected; they cleaned it with something when he got here.

His shoulder hurts, a pulsing throb that gets a little less painful every day - or after a while, anyway... what's a day when the light never changes and time only exists for the handlers outside the doors?

The shoulder hurt would have been knocking into the entertainment center, and the ache along his lower back, just at the bottom of his spine… most of that is from being pinned to the floor, but maybe some is the statue from Owen’s trip to Africa.

What country? His brain asks sarcastically, his stupid fucking thinking that got him back here in the first place. Owen just says Africa like it’s all one big fucking country. Well, welcome to Africa where the capitol is Africa City, you stupid fucking asshole I fucking hate you I fucking liked him more than you, I liked him more than you every fucking moment he was near me, I hate you

I hate you

No no stop I love Owen he's good to me I was bad, I broke protocol, discipline is a necessary tool for correction this is discipline I was bad

He wants to lock me up

I need to be locked up

I don't want to be locked up anymore

He lets out a broken half-sob, jamming the palms of his hands against his eyes, trying to tell himself to stop thinking so fucking much. He’s not made for thinking, Owen doesn’t want him to think.

I know I told them to make you brainless, but this is something else.

Something’s wrong - the wall they built inside of him is cracked, and he can’t lock everything back up behind it. The memories slide in and out and the person he used to be wants to push through. Something’s wrong with him, he’s a failed pet, a failed project, broken boy.

He wants to know what he sent to Colton, what he needed him to know, what was so important that he’d get himself thrown back here to get the information into hands he could trust. He can’t remember what it was. He can’t remember the words.

Why does he think he can trust him?

Why does he want to trust anyone but Owen at all?

Kauri grinds his teeth together, pushes harder, until his eyes ache and it joins the throb in his forehead, until his face is one big pain that reminds him, tells him to remember that he isn’t supposed to know anything at all.

You are not a person here. You are just a number. They can take anything away, and they’ll take it all away, and you will go to your knees and you will say ‘yes, sir’. The only person who wants the number boy, the only person to call you a name, is Owen.

And Colton, he said, he said

Do not listen to aberrant pets

But he listened to me he cared about me no one cares about me

Fuck I'm the aberrant, I’ll wreck him, I wonder if I got him in trouble, too. God I hope I didn’t get him in trouble, please please please let him not be in trouble because of me, please please

He held onto me when I needed someone to, he said, I remember he said

don’t

BELIEVE WHAT YOU ARE TOLD

It was nice to have another pet to talk to, pets

DO NOT TALK TO OTHER PETS

Should try to stick together

I didn’t

YOU SIGNED UP FOR THIS

I didn’t sign up for this

He didn’t sign up for this, he didn’t think

DON’T THINK

Why had he wanted so badly to send the message? There had been something he knew, something he knew that was so vital he wanted to tell Colton, because Colton was allowed to read and write, so he could write it down… but Kauri couldn’t remember what it had been, anymore.

Probably he was the only person who had thought whatever-it-was mattered. Probably Colton forgot him as soon as he’d walked out the door with Owen’s hand resting against his back, as soon as he’d been in the car. Pets don’t care about each other.

It’ll be better for him if he forgets it, that’s why we’re what we are, because we wanted to forget.

Worse than the loss of any hint of access to Colton - every video chat where he might be in the background while Owen and the Host were talking, every visit, the ski trip where he and Colton were up earlier than their owners every day - worse than losing all of that was the realization that he had really, really messed up with Owen this time.

That’s not worse, you know that you want something better than Owen

Owen is the best I could ever hope for

That’s a fucking lie you deserve better, you just forgot

“What else is out there, we forgot we don't remember?”

I hope you’re not in trouble, I hope I didn’t hurt you, I hope

Stop it stop it stop it pets don’t make emotional connections with each other

You were so lucky and you and you fucked it up, Kauri

Owen was so good to him, took such good care of him, hardly ever hurt him. He never left bruises that stayed, he always hurt Kauri only in secret ways that healed quickly, ways no one would know about but them.

He’d been so lucky to have someone like Owen, an owner who really genuinely cared about him even if it wasn’t the same as being free, and he’d gone and fucked it all up, gotten himself sent back here, and he couldn’t even remember why.

The defiance - the feeling of a fierce and sudden joy he’d felt bubbling inside of himself as he typed the letters, even though he didn’t remember what the letters had been or what message he had sent - had been a mistake. He’d made Owen so angry with him, he knew better. He knew he wasn’t supposed to read or write, and still he’d been stupid and bad and thinking and Owen might not forgive him for it.

There were marks on Kauri - the bruises and scrapes, the scratches and the ache inside of him its own growing scar. Owen never left marks, before Kauri started thinking. He always apologized, every other time, but this time he hadn't.

This time he had kissed the bruises as they blossomed and whispered mine, mine, mine against Kauri’s hair as it kept hurting and hurting and hurting and Kauri couldn’t even get the breath to cry.

The next morning Owen had taken the collar off, pulled out the key and slid the white-gold chain in a whisper over his skin, away from his neck. He’d felt so scared, without it. Everything felt so empty and exposed. Collars were safe. They meant your owner had you, and your owner is the safest thing in the world.

Owen is safe and he hurts me. It’s all the same.

Then they came here, Kauri's bare neck bringing on a fear he can't shake - will Owen forgive me for what I did wrong? - and he thinks three days have passed, but it could have been five, or two, or nine. Could have been any amount of time at all.

He pushes himself up onto his elbows first, fighting against the familiar dizziness, the dark fog that threatens at the edges of his vision. Finally he manages to sit with his legs out to one side, resting his weight on his hand and hip.

I shouldn't have done what I did. I shouldn't have tried to tell someone. I shouldn't have. I messed up, I screwed it up, I knew he was already mad and… and I messed up. And we don’t remember, that’s what we are, we never remember.

It was so fucking pointless to try, and I’m so sorry, and I would do anything to have him hold me and tell me he cares again.

There is a small rebellious voice that whispers, there are other 'hims' than Owen.

Kauri looks up and sees the door - plain white like the walls, only different because you could see the thin black line of the frame. No handle on this side. He knows if he looks back down at the tiles and starts counting, he will count 162 in this room, just like every other room. Featureless white tiles with white grout between. Featureless white walls, white ceiling, white light from everywhere and nowhere at all.

He’s wearing the plain white shirt and black shorts, training clothes. A bare neck, not even a shock collar, nothing at all. Like he doesn’t matter. Like no one wants him now.

He should be collared. He's only safe with a collar on. A collar means someone cares about you. Owen didn’t kill him - but he gave him back, which is much, much worse.

And Keira is gone.

Kauri’s throat tries to close again at the memory of the CRACK, the metal and plastic disc going so still and silent, the little red lights for her visual sensors going out. Being here does not make Kauri cry - but knowing that Keira is gone does.

He can barely choke out tears against the pain in his throat, but he can’t stop them either, and he pushes his back up against the wall in the corner, where he used to always sit for hours and hours, and curls his knees up to his chest, shaking with the sobs that come out broken and rough-edged.

They don’t like crying here, or not too much of it - but he can’t seem to stop. He’s been crying for hours or for days or fuck it, maybe weeks, nothing changes here and-

He’s lost her.

She was the only thing left, and she’s gone.

He doesn’t know how long he cries for, only that by the time the tears finally run dry he is breathing with sounds that feel like scraping claws, fighting for air. Kauri swallows against the pounding of his heart, winces at the sharp pain in his throat. When he brushes his fingers against the thin skin, he can feel the twinge of bruising there at even the slightest bit of pressure.

He sent the message to Colton, but he won’t ever know if the other Box Boy saw it and he doesn't even remember what the fucking message was.

In the Facility, your memories feed the sharks, they take them and eat them and all you are left with is a body that serves the owner.

When he hears the click of heels outside the door to his room - thinks for a brief second here comes the shark with the sharpest teeth of them all - his heart starts to pound even as he instinctively moves onto his knees and then pushes himself slowly to his feet.

If she’s here, then she won’t want him to be kneeling when she enters. She’ll want to see him kneel, for her, to show respect. He remembers all of this, he knows what the Director wants him to be, to look like, to do to prove he is broken.

Kauri fixes his eyes on the line of grout between two tiles, hands loose and open down at his sides, and feels the emptiness around his neck like the prelude to an execution as they press the passcode to unlock the door to his room.

Kauri is back, and he’s-

This was home.

The world spun and twisted, danced to one side and jumped to the other. 645898 couldn’t hold any of it, it slipped through his fingers. He felt like his brain was full of clouds, and sometimes they strapped him down and put something between his teeth and there was pain that went on and on and on.

When the pain was gone, he remembered less and less.

Except he knew what they wanted him to do, now. What he was going to be, what they kept telling him he’d signed up for even if the clouds and the fog, the dizziness, meant all he could remember was a pen in his hand and a man in a suit reading words off a paper. He kept asking for someone - he can’t remember who any longer - and Everly had to take him away and give him more treatments, more pain, until he no longer asked for her.

Until she was gone.

Until he had lost her.

He signed a contract, they tell him. He wanted to start a new life, a fresh start where someone else would take care of everything, and all he had to do was be good and look pretty. He doesn’t remember thinking any of those things, but the world is a riot of dizziness and fear and pleasepleaseplease and I’ll be good and I’m so sorry and maybe he did sign it.

He must have.

They tell him he did.

He can remember laying the pen back down and staring at words drifting like falling leaves across a world that wouldn’t stay still.

“Lights on, 645898,” He heard from the other side of the door, and he waited, swallowing hard, feeling the shock collar shift and move against the skin of his neck when he did, standing in Position One.

He knew most of the positions now, and it was easier just to go along with it, even when they got to the other positions, the ones that twisted his body and taught it things he didn’t want to know.

They never touched him, until he was in the higher number positions, and then they never stopped but he didn’t care anymore, all that mattered was that it was a touch that didn’t hurt. It was a touch that felt good, and he wanted to feel good. He wasn’t the only one here being taught to feel good in all the wrong ways, he knew there were others, and 645898 wasn’t supposed to be ashamed, but he was.

Something in the way his blood moved too slow through his veins, in the dizzy spin of the world around him, set his skin alight when they touched him, and it meant… it meant he was being good, and wouldn’t be hurt. He had fought them, in the beginning, but now he understood it was the only way he’d ever be touched that didn’t hurt.

All he wanted now was to be told he was good and touched again.

He was shivering, but he was always shivering here. The air moved over his skin, seeming to drift right through the shirt and black shorts, and he kept his eyes down, waiting. He didn’t know why they said ‘lights on’ or ‘lights out’. The white light that came from nowhere always looked the same. Sometimes he slept and they woke him up, sometimes when he was bad he didn’t sleep.

When the door clicked and then opened to show his handler looking in, 645898 was ready for whatever they would do.

Kauri’s handler comes in first - it’s not the one he remembers, it’s someone else entirely, dressed in a different uniform and with a different dangerous smile - and moves around behind him. He doesn’t see her right away, even if the cold air in the room seems to change, to electrify around him with her presence.

There’s no shock collar around his neck, but she doesn’t need one, does she?

He’s shaking too hard to hold himself up, and his handler’s gloved hands wrap securely around his upper arms, just below his shoulders. Blood rushes in his ears, deafeningly loud, but never loud enough to drown out the click of her heels on the tile floor, closer and closer.

He sees sharp black heels come to a stop just in front of him, and knows that the soles on the bottom will be a deep and bloody red.

His skin is a mess of shivers and fears, but still he feels the way her fingernails dig in as she takes his chin in her hands. She snaps her other fingers and his eyes jerk up, on instinct, and her face is blurred with his tears but that has never made her less of a monster.

“645898,” Karen Renford says in her deceptively warm voice, “I hear you have been a very bad boy.”

Kauri does not quite nod - her fingers won’t let his head move at all. He manages to keep the pleas, the begging right there behind his teeth. She doesn’t like begging, not really, and it’s worse if he begs. He tells himself to be brave - they’ll see what I sent, they’ll see - he’ll see - and she can’t take that away from me, even if I don’t even know what it was - but at the cold judgement in her eyes he wilts, he curls into himself, he starts to cry again even as his throat aches and aches, and it makes him cry harder. “I d-didn’t, I wasn’t, I’m s-sorry, Director Renford, I’m-”

“Sssssshhhh. You have been very naughty. Breaking all sorts of rules. You’re very lucky, you know - Mr. Grant was offered refurbishment and a full refund and he refused.”

Kauri’s eyes widen, and he feels a sudden burst of hope inside of him, nearly knocking him off his feet. Hope, and a wave of pure and genuine love.

“H-He refused, D-D-Director?”

“He did.” Karen smiles at him, and it’s a smile without warmth, but he still clings onto it with everything left inside of him. “He wants his Kauri, not a new boy at all. All he’s asking for is a little… adjustment.”

I’m so lucky. I’m so fucking lucky. The thought is not sarcastic, or edged, but desperate and scared and sincere. Owen still wants him just as he is, he doesn’t want to ERASE and start over, and Kauri is so unbelievably lucky.

He fucked up so badly, he was so bad, he disobeyed and he was so so bad and Owen still wants him, and he’ll thank Owen on his fucking knees when he goes home again.

“Normally we like to give the pets a night to get used to their new home, but you already know everything here, don’t you?” Karen Renford’s lips move in what she probably imagines is a smile.

Kauri nods, slowly. “Yes, Director Renford.”

“Good boy. Now, this won’t be like last time. Your owner has signed off on a few new things I’ve had in the works, disciplinary measures to ensure you go home thoroughly chastised. How does that sound, 645898? If you’d like to be Kauri again, you’ll have to be very good for me. We’ll see if we can’t make sure you never, ever misbehave like that again.”

He nods, he nods as quickly as he can, because he does, he wants to be good and stay Kauri and go home to Owen. He doesn’t want to stay here at all. Please, please, he’ll be so good, he’ll be everything Owen wants forever if Owen will just put that collar back on his neck and say you’re mine.

Kauri doesn’t care anymore if being safe hurts, because everything hurts and if he has to choose, he’ll pick the kind of pain that feels good sometimes, too.

“Wonderful.” The gloved hands leave his arms and somehow Kauri stays standing. Karen drops his chin and wipes her fingers off on her suitjacket like Kauri was dirty, looking him over with critical eyes. “I’ll be taking charge of this myself, but don’t think it’s because you’re important, pet. If your test is successful, I have someone in my own home who deserves to look as lovely as you will when we are done. You’re going to be our first human test. And if you are successful…” She considers him for one more moment of silence, and Kauri holds his breath.

He doesn’t even hear a word she says. He doesn’t care. He’ll do anything, anything at all, to go home to Owen again.

“Perhaps we’ll have to arrange a little public demonstration. Everyone loves us when we’re writing them checks, and my goodness, 645898, you make for some compelling video content, don’t you?” She smiles, again - cold and inhuman but there’s very real humor there, and Kauri swallows against a spike of fear. “We need to ensure that everyone involved understands that you will not disobey again. Hm?”

“I won’t,” he whispers. “I won’t disobey, Director.”

“No,” she says quietly. She might sound smug - but it’s hard to tell, her voice is almost always the same. “You won’t. Now. Don’t you think I should receive the respect I am due, 645898?”

Before she even finishes the sentence, Kauri has already dropped onto his knees into Position Two, the movement instinctive, robotic, automatic, trained. Position Two is easy - it's what Director Renford wants after that that he hates. He bends himself in half on the floor, kissing the pointed toe of each black shoe, then rests his forehead on the cold tiles.

In his mind, Karen Renford smells like the disinfectant they use to clean the tiles.

“Good boy,” she says, low, pleased with him. “But not good enough, and far too late." She looks to the handler standing behind him. "His owner has authorized force. I’ll need him pliable and useful for surgery, but you have three days to have your own fun, and I’d like him perfectly sober when I start cutting. Let’s begin, shall we?”

She turns, and her heels click on the floor as she goes.

Surgery?

Kauri doesn’t look up, only clenches his eyes shut as tightly as he can and braces himself. He can worry about what surgery means later, for now he knows exactly what will happen and how it will feel.

He hears the swish of the black stick through the air, the moment before it hits suspended in time, and then he whimpers into the white tiles as it connects with his back and pain blossoms, electricity racing through the nerves underneath his skin.

Then a pause, and the black stick connects again.

He cries out helplessly, tears pooling on the floor beneath him, trying to dig his fingernails into the unmoving, unforgiving tile.

He’s not trained for pain, and each blow is an agony reminding him of what he’s done.

This is what you get for disobeying.

This is what you get for thinking.

This is what you get for every lingering look

For every word you shouldn’t have spoken

For every brush of a hand

This is what you get for trying.

This is what you get.

Kauri screams, and screams again, and it echoes down the halls where other boys are curled up or kneeling or standing in their own rooms. Somewhere there is someone else who thinks they’ll defy and fight back, who thinks they will remember their own name, but they won’t, not for long.

And while they’re planning pointless defiance, they will listen to Kauri scream.

“You can’t make me eat this shit!” [ERASED] all but screamed the words, and the large room - full of others like him, older and more than a few that seemed even younger (but that’s not possible, you have to be eighteen, they said everyone who signs is eighteen or older) - went silent.

“I don’t know what would ever make it think that we can’t,” one of the handlers said to another, neither of them even looking at him. Like his protests didn’t even land, didn’t matter. And they didn’t.

“He’s new,” the second handler said with a shrug. “Everly’s boy. 64… something.“

"He’s loud,” the first handler said pointedly. “Why the fuck is he being loud? They’re supposed to be too fucked up for that."

[ERASED] picked up the tray, the colorless thing on it shaped like a small loaf of bread, and with hate burning through his veins, he threw it as hard as he could until it splattered against the wall, the tray clattering to the ground. Every other boy, man, whatever - all of them looked down at the floor, nearly all at once.

"Oh, that’s why he’s loud,” the first handler said, unperturbed. The protest meant nothing to them, didn't matter at all. ��Someone’s been skipping their doses."

"Everly should’ve caught that. He’ll get written up for this shit."

"Listen to me,” [ERASED] hissed at them. He knew they wouldn’t by now, they never listened, but he still spoke up because there were days he didn’t feel like he even had a voice any longer, and he couldn’t always remember where he’d come from or who he’d been before, but he knew he would never, ever volunteer for this. “I won’t fucking eat it and you can’t fucking make me! I know it’s drugged, I know we’re all drugged, and you wouldn’t have to drug us if we were actually volunteers! We wouldn’t have to forget everything if there wasn’t something you wanted us to forget!"

"Someone’s having a Soylent Green moment,” First Handler laughed, and [ERASED] glared up at him. Then he unclipped the black stick from his belt, and [ERASED] felt very real fear - and regret.

Why hadn’t he just eaten his food? Why had he worked so hard to remember his name today, wanted to have time without the drugs? Why wouldn’t he just let it go, like everyone else? Why couldn’t he just be good?

Second Handler moved to the side while First Handler moved closer, and then [ERASED] backed up, stumbling over his own feet, trying to keep the guards in sight. He tripped over something, falling backwards until Second Handler shoved him back again, and he twisted to see one of the other boys had stuck his foot out to trip him.

The boy didn’t look smug or victorious. He was probably just as scared as everyone else. But he’d curried favor by turning on [ERASED], taken a chance to maybe get himself something extra, a little more food, an extra drink.

He wanted to blame him, but he couldn’t, not really. He might have done the same, if he hadn’t spent three days refusing to eat the rations that made his brain slip and slide, that made him lose himself to the fuzz and the words they made him repeat, over and over again.

First Handler grabbed him while he was looking at the other boy, tangled fingers hard into the brittle black curls that had gone dry and frizzed with the harsh soap that was all they got to clean themselves with here until a buyer had been found, and [ERASED] cried out in pain as he dragged him closer, his scalp a riot of burning. “Let go! Let go! Let-"

The black stick went up and came down again, and [ERASED]’s voice cut off like someone had simply turned him off.

Then they hit him again, and he managed to get out from the handler’s grip, falling onto the floor, his muscles jerking from the electrical current that ran through the black stick, curling himself into the smallest ball he could manage, crying out with every blow.

“I kn-know my name,” he whispered between blows, “I know who I a-am, can’t f-f-forget, I know my name, I know my n-n-name, I know-”

CRACK.

The stick hit his head and [ERASED] went limp on the ground, conscious but barely. The other boys stayed still and silent, the sound of a sink dripping in the corner the only noise other than the slight rustle of boys in black shorts and white shirts shifting on benches, not looking at each other, not looking at him.

“Had enough, Soylent?” First Handler asked, grinning down at him. Black spots danced in front of his eyes and when he tried to push himself up, his arms refused to hold his weight and he collapsed back down again.

“I kn-know my name,” he hissed, glaring up at them, his heart pounding all out of rhythm. “You c-c-can’t take my name away.”

“Oh, yes we can.” Second Handler laughed, and this time two black sticks connected with him, and the world narrowed to darkness and pain.

He groaned as they hit him again, and again. His arms jerked, his body thrashed, he saw sparks and dancing lights that weren't really there. “My name is [ERASED], and you c-can make me answer to a number but you can’t take my name from m-m-me…”

When the handler leaves, Kauri is curled on his side in a ball, hands over his head, and everything hurts.

His body aches from the blows, the bruises already forming, some of them right over the bruises Owen had left behind. Muscles jerk and twitch under his skin from the shocks. He can barely breathe through the agony in his throat, and he gasps shallow little breaths that keep him dizzy and disoriented.

Somehow, the tile underneath him never warms up.

Kauri cries, and all he wants in the whole world is to hold onto his name. If only they’ll let him stay Kauri, he’ll never, ever try to have any other name, ever again.

He fucked up so badly, and Owen will forgive him, but he has to earn it first.

Earning forgiveness is going to hurt so much.

He’ll do anything to keep Kauri.

It’s the only name left.

#erase to control #whump #defiant whumpee #broken whumpee #violent whumper #tw: VIOLENCE #shock collar #tw: abusive relationship #creepy whumper #referenced/implied noncon #conditioning #tw: forced drugging #dehumanization #pet whump #captivity #tw: violent beating #this part is dark #and there are some more dark parts #but just remember future Kauri!

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stevenuniversallyreviews · 5 years

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Episode 122: Tiger Philanthropist

“It’s like the sequel no one asked for.”

Adventure Time is technically a serial, but rather than one continuous story it’s a hodgepodge of multiple meandering plots that get checked up on at random over the course of its 283-episode run. For instance, minor character Maja the Sky Witch was introduced in Episode 133 (Sky Witch), yelling at the end that she’s planning “something big,” and we got that follow-up a full year later in Episode 166 (Something Big; let it not be said that these episodes aren’t named well). Virtually no mention of Maja was made between these episodes, but Something Big served as a direct sequel, beginning in the middle of a huge battle as if we knew it was coming, and we just went with it. That, for better and worse, is the spirit of Adventure Time's long-term structure. Episodes can be about any character in its vast world, and we jump around so much that it feels like anything could happen.

Steven Universe takes a different approach, aided by a singular focus on Steven's point of view. It also has distant sequel episodes, but it’s easier to keep track of these connected stories because of a more unified through-line. I mentioned in The New Crystal Gems that I’d like to see more character interactions that are restricted by this focus (give us an episode about Peridot making avant-garde metal-powered multi-instrumental music with Sour Cream, you cowards), but it’s still generally a positive from a plotting standpoint to keep things Steven-centric.

For the most part, I’m a huge fan of distant sequel episodes in both Adventure Time and Steven Universe despite them being such different beasts. But while the random “hey remember this storyline?” in media res variant works well in a zany show that bounces from plot to plot, Tiger Philanthropist is proof that this type of sequel doesn’t work quite as well on a show with a more traditional structure.

The premise of Tiger Philanthropist hinges on the idea that Steven and Amethyst have been wrestling this whole time. But, as we might see in an Adventure Time sequel episode, we’ve gotten zero references to this subplot between the first and second episode of the story. We never see Steven and Amethyst coming back from a gig. We never hear them talking about it in passing. We never see the tiger mask lying around to indicate recent use. The Brothers Construction and Good-Looking Gang even feel like Adventure Time one-off characters, as they’re for some reason never seen outside of a wrestling context despite Steven Universe otherwise doing pretty well at building a sense of reliable locals and background characters.

Bear in mind that we just had a whole arc about Amethyst’s inferiority complex in terms of physical ability, and at no point did the coping mechanism that she’s apparently been using this whole time come up. The thrust of Tiger Philanthropist is that she’s moved on from the need to use wrestling as an outlet for her issues, but when we haven’t even thought about Tiger Millionaire outside of a few Purple Puma cameos and maybe a poster or two early in our first season, it strains credibility to be told that she still was using wrestling as an outlet for her issues. I’m too focused on the hamfisted retconning to get invested in this story. It’s as if we got an episode about Garnet deciding to stop going to the arcade and Steven is bummed because oh by the way we forgot to mention it but she and Steven have been playing co-op Meat Beat Mania every Thursday since Arcade Mania and it’s a major part of their relationship.

Steven Universe is at its weakest when the crew seemingly forgets key plot points: episodes like House Guest forget a character’s established personality, episodes like Sadie’s Song forget Steven’s development from bratty to empathetic, and both Malachite and Bismuth go unmentioned for huge swaths of the show during times when they would’ve been relevant to discuss or feature. Underground wrestling might be less pivotal than the long-term bubbling of an old friend, it’s just as frustrating for the thread to be completely ignored until it becomes relevant again. Because it’s not like the show always does this: look at Connie’s training, which has focus episodes here and there but is also background noise in other episodes to let it feel like a consistent part of her life. Mindful Education would’ve been a disaster if Connie started training in Sworn to the Sword and then we didn’t mention it at all until she accidentally tossed a classmate.

And really, imagine if at least one of the episodes in Amethyst’s big Act II arc was in the ring. We easily could’ve had Tiger Millionaire accidentally eclipsing Purple Puma as a catalyst for her self-doubt (among many other possibilities that this crew could conceive better than I) and it would’ve made Tiger Philanthropist feel so much better. But I can’t write about that, because that’s not what happened.

What sucks is that I love Tiger Millionaire and am all for more wrestling. Despite my snotty header quote choice about unwanted sequels, I was super excited for Tiger Philanthropist, and that glorious music brought me right back into the zone as the episode began. But the wind went right out of my sails when it became clear that we’re to believe Tiger Millionaire and Purple Puma are fixtures of the wrestling scene, and that it’s an activity that’s super important to Steven as a way of bonding with Amethyst.

And there are plot elements here that, in an episode with better context, would get a chance to shine. In a world where we knew Amethyst and Steven were wrestling for around two years, this would’ve been a pretty emotional conclusion to a relationship that began in the show’s early days (not that Steven and Amethyst would stop hanging out, but it’s always bittersweet when an important phase of your life is over). It would’ve served as a great acknowledgment of how Amethyst has moved on with her life if we saw the part of her life she was moving on from. We could’ve felt Steven’s sense of loss, and the surge of relief when Purple Puma returns for one last ride. If you transported this exact episode into a series that built up to it in any way, it would be a classic. But we aren’t watching that series.

It’s a little fun that I’m unsatisfied with a follow-up where an entertainer reacts to a fan being unsatisfied with a follow-up. Much like Season 2′s Mombo Combo, two thematically linked episodes about moms separating the Week of Sardonyx from Peridemption, we get two episodes in a row about fan interaction to buffer Steven’s long day in space from the continuation of his mother issues culminating in another trip to space. Unfortunately I can’t think of as good a name for Rocknaldo and Tiger Philanthropist as a unit as “Mombo Combo” (the Fandom Menace?) but nobody’s perfect.

Lars plays a fascinating role here, because the easy option would be making him an entitled fan a la Ronaldo who wants things to go just the way he likes. And to be clear, Lars does want things to go a certain way. But he’s not dictating the terms or saying he needs Tiger Millionaire to act exactly how he wants, he’s just frustrated by a new development that seems out of step with his favorite wrestler. Even when asked directly about what he'd like to happen, Lars doesn’t know, because he hasn’t confused his fandom with the notion that he gets to dictate the specifics about the thing he likes.

(I try to be the same way, but I also definitely wrote a spiel about how Tiger Millionaire and Purple Puma should’ve been present during Amethyst’s latest arc like five paragraphs ago. Again, nobody’s perfect.)

It helps that Lars doesn’t understand that Steven is Tiger Millionaire (a repeat gag that I’d probably find funnier if I felt more charitable about the episode), so he’s unaware that he’s speaking with the creator of the content he enjoys; perhaps he’d be singing a different tune if he knew the truth. But as it is, we get a surprisingly generous interpretation of a demanding fan, allowing us to see the ethos behind Lars’s disappointment instead of writing him off as an entitled fanboy with impossible expectations. The timing of Tiger Philanthropist fits perfectly with Lars’s imminent moment in the sun, as he’s still prickly but has enough layers by now that I don’t roll my eyes too hard when he up and calls himself complex.

I don’t talk about the visuals of this show as much as I should, considering how creative the settings and weird alien vehicles and structures can get. But it bears mentioning that, aside from some weird conspicuous computer graphics for falling money, Tiger Philanthropist looks great. The stylized snapshots provide moments of goofy flair to the mix, and the heightened drama of the ring leads to some excellent lighting that shadows Steven’s face as a hooded stranger and makes Purple Puma look like an honest-to-goodness superhero. We get fun choreography and costumes befitting a wrestling episode, and some premium character expressions throughout.

And it’s funny! Colton Dunn remains a worthy successor to Sinbad, giving us not one but two great gags of Mr. Smiley joyfully defining a word to the audience (both in the ring and at home); explaining “philanthropist” is funny enough on its own for how cheesy it is, but I’m really tickled that he gives the same weight to “sea wasp.” Really, this episode has so much going for it if the central idea wasn’t such a misfire.

As you may have guessed by this review, I obviously think it’s valid to criticize aspects of art that you don’t like. So in theory, it sounds awesome to have artists respond to such criticism to make a product that you as a fan enjoy more. But we now live in an age where absolute garbage like CinemaSins allows people to pretend that productive criticism is just nitpicks, an inability or refusal to understand basic nuance, and frankly bigoted ideas about what certain people are capable of doing (if you have half an hour to spare, Everything Wrong About Everything Wrong About Civil War delightfully gets into all three!). It’s a double-edged sword, because creators listening to fans perhaps isn’t inherently bad, but a desperation to fill in “plot holes” at the expense of good storytelling is detrimental to modern storytelling (if you have another half an hour to spare, watch Lindsay Ellis’s take on Beauty and the Beast for more on this; this is a review with homework!). And this is on top of the potential of harassment covered in Rocknaldo, which not even the lousiest content creator deserves.

Tiger Philanthropist isn’t about bad faith criticism, as Lars’s views are from a sincere place, but its message of not treating fans like bosses is a valid response to fandoms who want more and more influence over the direction of an artist’s work. Which could’ve veered towards self-importance or hackneyed nods to the camera, so I appreciate that I never feel pulled out of this element of the story. We never shift from a regular episode of the show to a screed from the animators, and again, Lars isn’t villainized for not enjoying Tiger Millionaire’s face turn. Combined with Rocknaldo, we can see how important good boundaries between fans and creators can be, both for the well-being of the people involved and the quality of the art being created. Shirt Club gave us a tribute to making art, and the Fandom Menace (it’s growing on me) sees a more experienced team of animators commenting on a specific issue when creating popular art, all while not coming across as bitter or self-congratulatory. If only they’d done it in an episode with more buildup!

Obviously the creation of a big letdown wasn’t the intent of the crew, despite how neat it’d be to demonstrate fan disappointment through a purposefully disappointing episode. Rarely do I feel like effort isn’t made to produce a good episode of Steven Universe, and as seen in its strengths, Tiger Philanthropist isn’t lazy. Which makes it a little more frustrating than if they phoned it in, because we’ve got jokes and visuals and a great message but none of it matters when the conflict they wrote requires a backstory they didn’t have. If you’re gonna make an episode about the end of a continuity, it’s critical for literally any amount of that continuity to be established beyond one wayward story over a hundred episodes ago. As it is, I couldn’t wait for this episode to retire.

We’re the one, we’re the ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!

Tiger Philanthropist was a huge disappointment, but I wouldn’t consider it bad enough to go on my No Thanks! list. With a different leadup of episodes it would be great, or at least fine; it just suffers from a plot that comes out of nowhere. Context can’t salvage my bottom list, which are episodes I just don’t like period. Still, if I was doing more thorough ranking, it’s probably in my bottom ten.

Top Twenty

Steven and the Stevens

Hit the Diamond

Mirror Gem

Lion 3: Straight to Video

Alone Together

Last One Out of Beach City

The Return

Jailbreak

The Answer

Mindful Education

Sworn to the Sword

Rose’s Scabbard

Earthlings

Mr. Greg

Coach Steven

Giant Woman

Beach City Drift

Winter Forecast

Bismuth

Steven’s Dream

Love ‘em

Laser Light Cannon

Bubble Buddies

Tiger Millionaire

Lion 2: The Movie

Rose’s Room

An Indirect Kiss

Ocean Gem

Space Race

Garnet’s Universe

Warp Tour

The Test

Future Vision

On the Run

Maximum Capacity

Marble Madness

Political Power

Full Disclosure

Joy Ride

Keeping It Together

We Need to Talk

Chille Tid

Cry for Help

Keystone Motel

Catch and Release

When It Rains

Back to the Barn

Steven’s Birthday

It Could’ve Been Great

Message Received

Log Date 7 15 2

Same Old World

The New Lars

Monster Reunion

Alone at Sea

Crack the Whip

Beta

Back to the Moon

Kindergarten Kid

Buddy’s Book

Gem Harvest

Three Gems and a Baby

That Will Be All

The New Crystal Gems

Storm in the Room

Like ‘em

Gem Glow

Frybo

Arcade Mania

So Many Birthdays

Lars and the Cool Kids

Onion Trade

Steven the Sword Fighter

Beach Party

Monster Buddies

Keep Beach City Weird

Watermelon Steven

The Message

Open Book

Story for Steven

Shirt Club

Love Letters

Reformed

Rising Tides, Crashing Tides

Onion Friend

Historical Friction

Friend Ship

Nightmare Hospital

Too Far

Barn Mates

Steven Floats

Drop Beat Dad

Too Short to Ride

Restaurant Wars

Kiki’s Pizza Delivery Service

Greg the Babysitter

Gem Hunt

Steven vs. Amethyst

Bubbled

Adventures in Light Distortion

Gem Heist

The Zoo

Rocknaldo

Enh

Cheeseburger Backpack

Together Breakfast

Cat Fingers

Serious Steven

Steven’s Lion

Joking Victim

Secret Team

Say Uncle

Super Watermelon Island

Gem Drill

Know Your Fusion

Future Boy Zoltron

Tiger Philanthropist

No Thanks!

6. Horror Club 5. Fusion Cuisine 4. House Guest 3. Onion Gang 2. Sadie’s Song 1. Island Adventure

#tiger philanthropist #steven universe #su #steven universally #review

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rocket-roach · 5 years

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Shadows We Know

request from everyone’s favorite fandom mom and queen of knowledge who i admire very much, @fuyunoakegata

I wanted to write more of this and I think I definitely will at one point, because I love all the boys in this fic and I feel like there’s a lot more for me explore in this story.

ANYWAY. without further ado: here’s dick, jason, and tim dealing (and struggling) with their father and losing someone else very important

Word count: 2133

He’s always had nightmares. They just got worse after his parents were killed. Then they were catastrophic after Bruce died.

Tim running around the manor while he hunted for the ghost of their father didn’t help any.

Patrol had been quiet. Damian didn’t complain as much as he used to, even with Tim’s return to the manor. It had been months since Dick had fired Tim and started the youngest as Robin. But it was nice to have Tim back. Even if he was quickly and drastically reducing the amount of espresso in the house.

His mind was flying. Tim was back, but Jason had been spending nearly every waking hour in Crime Alley. Dick had gone there to bring him home. But the sight of Jay leaving sacks of Big Belly Burger on the fire escapes and at the entrances of the cardboard lean-tos, he left him alone. It didn’t feel right to ask him to come home then. Jason was still healing, and he didn’t want to force open those wounds.

He laid in his bed, aching to go across the hall and ask Bruce for help.

But that was what crazy people didn’t, wasn’t it? Ask the dead for advice. He wasn’t crazy, he rationalized as he slid his feet into the Superman slippers on the side of his bed. He was just out of options. Dick padded across the hall. Bruce’s door opened with its usual soft groan.

Lit only by the full moon outside, the massive master suite was spotless. There wasn’t a speck of dust on the desk, the bedside table, the dresser, or even in the bathroom. Finding the room to his liking, he sat on the bed and laid down. Bruce’s grey comforter was just as fluffy as the day he left it. The former acrobat wiggled underneath it after a beat, wrapping it around himself in a cocoon of warmth.

Dick fell asleep moments later.

He was standing under the big top, the spotlights aimed at the platforms above. His parents stood on the far right one, waving their hands as an invisible crowd cheered loudly. On the left, stood Bruce. He was shouting, Dick could tell from the way that one vein was straining on his forehead and how the tendons on his neck were taught. But he was making no sound.

He was trying to stop the Dick’s parents from leaping. He finally caught sight of Dick in the ring, and Bruce’s glacial eyes pinned him to that spot.

Over the roar of the crowd, Dick heard Bruce say four words.

“Crime Alley devours children.”

John and Mary’s bodies hit the ground with two wet thuds.

Dick shot awake in his father’s bed, his hair soaked with sweat and tears and snot covering his face. Songbirds were heralding the new day outside of the bay windows, and bile rose in his throat. Dick charged to the bathroom; his hands gripping the porcelain bowl as he vomited. Alfred had started knocking on the door. Dick was too busy dry-heaving over the puke to answer. Then he felt a gentle hand smoothing his hair away from his face.

“Master Dick,” Alfred said softly. “It’s alright, sir. You’re okay.”

“I saw him, Al,” Dick finally said. “in my dream.”

Alfred tried to muffle his groan as he joined Dick on the floor, but from the worried look Dick shot him, he hadn’t been successful.

“Should we move to the bed?”

“I’m old, Master Dick. Not an invalid. Do you want to tell me about the dream?”

“He said something really weird. He said, god, what was it?” Dick bit his lip as he thought. “Oh, that’s right. ‘Crime Alley devours children.’ That’s pretty off the wall, even for him.”

“He might be onto something,” a deep, smoke ruined voice said from the doorway. “Three of the kids under my protection have gone missing within the past three weeks.”

“I came to tell you Master Jason was home,” Alfred spoke.

They were in the cave after breakfast, with Damian sticking close to Dick’s side. Tim was in the evidence corner, muttering to himself as he putzed with various spoils of intergalactic battle. Jason’s hands kept going to the front right pocket where a pack of Camel blue cigarettes sat, his lighter just barely visible.

“A lot them move down there because they know it’s a favorite spot of ours. I tried scarin’ em off at first, didn’t want them running into any of the usual assholes who hang there. But that only encouraged them. Three weeks ago, 17 kids were living in that alley. As of this morning, there’s only 14. At first, I just thought they’d moved to a better place in the city. But there’s this one kid, Jules Adams. Told me all about how she saw a shadow with fangs take Colton Taylor. He was the first kid who vanished. Then told me that she heard Hank Giaccione yelling about fangs. She told me that, and when I brought her a coffee this morning--”

“You gave a kid coffee?” Tim asked.

“Quiet, Tim. The adults are talking,” Jason waved him off. “Anyway, I brought her coffee and donuts, but Jerome said she vanished just before sunrise. Jerome said he saw giant sharp teeth dragging her down the alley.”

“You’re like four years older than me,” Tim griped.

“We’re supposed to believe that shadows that have teeth are stealing street rats, Todd?”

“I came back from the dead, in case you forgot. I basically raised you.”

“You did not!” Damian shouted.

“Then who wiped your ass when the other ninjas wouldn’t?”

“The ninjas didn’t want to wipe his ass?” Tim asked as he emerged from the evidence corner with a time gun. “Jesus, how much did you poop?”

Dick intervened as Damian began turning beet red. “We’re getting off topic,” He wrapped an arm around Damian, drawing him fully against his side. “What do you think it is, Jay?”

“Sounds like some witchcraft stuff to me,” Tim interjected as a yellow blast of energy blew out of the barrel of the gun. A bat who had been unlucky enough to be downrange suddenly exploded into a giant bat, to which Tim noted: “Huh, guess they really are evolved from Megachiroptera. How ‘bout that.”

The next round fired was neon green, and a very startled and confused bat crashed into the nearest cave wall.

“Tim, stop shooting the bats.”

“I need to figure out how this thing works,” Tim muttered as he wandered back to the evidence corner.

Jason watched as Tim’s mop of messy hair vanished around the wall.

“Is he still looking for Bruce?” Jason asked once it was just the three of him.

“He’s still convinced that he’s not dead.”

“I mean, the boss man thought I was dead. So, did you, Dick. If there’s anything this family is really bad at, it’s staying dead. Anyway, I thought it was witchcraft like Tim did. I talked to Swamp Thing while I was down in Florida vising Roy and he said it didn’t sound like any magical being he’d ever heard of. Then I was thinking about it; the shadow only comes out at night. There’s no report of a shadow with fangs appearing during daylight. I don’t think it’s witchcraft. I think it’s just some psychopath.”

Dick’s dreams were worse that evening. He was back in the big top. His parents and Bruce were standing in the same spots they were the night before. But the crowd was a writhing mass of black, twisted shadows roaring for a jump. A whip of the black shadows rocketed from the nosebleeds, connecting with Bruce’s back. He was shoved off the platform, his face as stoic as ever as he plummeted down. Feet away from the dirt, he turned his head and looked Dick in the eyes.

“The shadow knows,” He said before his neck broke.

The next night found Red Hood, Robin, and Batman perched on the various run-down buildings that guarded Crime Alley. Beneath them, kids dressed in ratty old clothes both too large and too small for them scrounged about in the alley for scraps of food. They were all quiet as they watched. If the kids knew they were there, they didn’t acknowledge them. For that, the assembled bats were grateful. It helped them in their hunt. Hours passed. They switched buildings. Ate some Jokerized burgers. Damian beat Jason in four games of rock, paper, scissors. Jason gave Damian a noogie. Dick had to remove a shuriken from Jason’s side.

They did this for 6 days straight.

It had been a week since Jules disappeared. Jason was becoming frantic. The shadow would strike again tonight, he was sure of it. He could taste it like he could taste the staleness of the cigarette he was currently plowing through.

And Dick was nowhere to be found. He’d been trying to hail him all night on the comms, even going so far at one point as to send one of the kids to the police station to turn on the signal. There had been no response.

“Hood to cave,” he murmured. “Tonight’s the night. I could really use some backup. Or, whatever.”

“You know, you’re really bad at asking for help,” Tim responded, the sound of his grapple firing over his comm. “Bats can’t make it tonight. Robin said he had a bad night. He’s down for the count; or at least till the knock-out gas Agent A gave him wears off.”

“Jesus,” Jay breathed. “That bad?”

“He nearly clocked Robin. He’s in a bad way. Don’t worry about briefing me, I’m all caught up.”

Jay noticed one of the cardboard boxes was now leaning to the right, when it had been drifting left towards collapse at the beginning of the evening.

“For the record,” Jason said as Tim landed to his right. “I believe you. I don’t buy it that Bruce is dead.”

The white covered eyes of Tim’s cowl narrowed as he watched his older brother. “Do you really?”

“Speaking as a former dead person myself, yes. Now, I think our perp is down there. Let’s move.”

The next morning found Jay and Tim, sitting at the table covered in bandages and brooding. Dick joined them. He had dark circles under his eyes which only made the paleness of his face stand out. He sat in his usual spot, to the right of the head seat. None of the boys said anything. They just sat. Alfred entered quietly, serving each one their favorite breakfasts. Chicken and waffles for Dick. Pancakes buried underneath breakfast sausage, bacon, and hash browns. Eggs benedict with a side of yogurt and strawberries for Tim. Cheese stuffed kaek for Damian, with a nice cup of tea.

They ate in silence.

Damian’s plate remained untouched.

Alfred left the room to go retrieve Damian for his morning repast.

Jason sighed. He really wanted a fucking smoke.

Tim finished his yogurt. He needed to get back to finding his dad.

Dick swallowed a bite that was too big. He wanted his dad to be alive again, so he could get some sleep.

“Master Damian is missing.”

“There were 14 kids this morning,” Tim jolted in his seat.

Dick decided that he was going to fight off sleep until he could find his youngest brother. It didn’t feel right to see Bruce in his sleep while his son was missing. The bats tore apart Crime Alley, asking every kid for help, taking every piece of evidence. Any criminal unlucky enough to mouth off to Batman that night got a taste of their own teeth.

“It’s almost as if he’s back,” Red Robin whispered to Red hood.

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown,” Hood responded.

Eventually, they end up in the Iron District. The snarling of the Batmobile echoed through the derelict buildings. All the clues and evidence they’d collected in their fear and rage was leading them to the original Wayne Enterprises factory. Where their father’s wealth had been quintupled during the industrial revolution.

All the signs were pointing them to the smoke stacks that loomed higher than any others in that area.

The car drove through a loading dock, then straight to the center of the building where the stacks sat. They were out of the car before it was completely still, charging towards the man-sized opening at the bottom of the middle one. Dick charged in first, Tim right on his heels. Jason checked his guns, then stepped through.

A long haired, very bearded, Bruce Wayne was leaning against the wall with a regular tenant of Arkham Asylum unconscious at his feet. He held a bruise covered Damian in his arms. Those glacial blue eyes were filled with fire.

“He brought me back,” Bruce whispered.

#Bruce Wayne #Batman #Robin #Dick Grayson #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #Damian Wayne #Alfred Pennyworth #requests #cw violence #cw death #grief #denial #testing time travel weapons on bats and finding their prehistoric ancestors #jason has a gang of kids he protects okay #they all miss bruce #dick handles his ptsd pretty well until he cant anymore #i hope this is alright!!!

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