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snowbellewells · 3 years

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Self-Promo Sunday: “Into the Unknown With You”

Another one shot from my assorted collection “Of Swans and Swords and Hopeful Hearts” - this one playing with some of the ideas I would rather have seen in 6x10 and 6x11, it certainly diverges from canon at that point...

Summary: As Emma searches for a way back home from the Wish Realm, help comes from a surprisingly welcome source...

{One more Author’s Note: The “awfully big adventure” bit is a tiny nod to J.M. Barrie’s Peter Pan.}

Can also be found on AO3 or ff.net

“Into the Unknown with You”

by: @snowbellewells

‘No, no, no!’ Emma’s mind reeled horrifically as she stared at the spot where only moments ago the portal had been whirling, her way home to her son and her pirate wide open. She wanted to scream; it couldn’t just be gone, and yet, a second too much hesitation, and the chance was lost. She looked to Regina anxiously, her fists clenched so tightly she felt the impressions her nails cut into her palms. It was all she could do not to rail at Regina, this whole twisted world, and her own bad luck.

‘What now?!?’ she wanted to demand, wanted to shake her former nemesis turned tentative friend, but one glimpse at the other woman’s stunned, disbelieving face staring across the shoreline at her presumed dead True Love, and Emma knew it would be a lost cause. Having stood beside a grave in grateful stupefaction at her own love’s miraculous return to life not so long ago, Emma couldn’t find the heart to remind Regina just yet that she had spent the last day preaching that none of their surroundings or those they encountered in the Wish Realm were real, and hurry her along. She too found herself blinking dazedly at this other – very convincing – version of Robin Hood for a few moments.

Even if her heart was still crying out for her home and her family, for Henry’s soft hair tickling her nose when she placed a kiss to the top of his head, and Killian’s arms enfolding her, she didn’t know where to go in this topsy-turvy version of the homeland she had never actually lived in, and so she had to wait – more impatiently by the minute – until one of these two, either queen or thief, snapped out of their spell and led the way…

As it turned out, Robin Hood was not the sort of outlaw who would truly do harm to two ladies passing through his territory. He wouldn’t have even made to steal their jewels and furs once the same trance that had overcome Regina seemed to strike him mute as well, but Regina offered him a pouch of coins that had been strapped to her waist and a ruby ring, pressing it into his calloused palm with a quirked smile and the assurance that “she insisted, she was much more partial to his cause than he knew”.

Emma wanted to snort at the ridiculous understatement those words were, and she only barely managed to hold back a roll of her eyes, which she sensed the thief saw but let slide with a conspiratorial wink.

Before she could make an argument for trying to catch up to Gold – or Rumplestiltskin here, she supposed – or ask where they were going to find another bean, it was evening, they were entering a forest in the gathering dark, and soon they had been welcomed to sit around a roaring fire with Robin’s motley crew, and even been offered the ale and venison passed around the circle as if they were part of the merry band.

“Now,” the archer began, seated beside Regina, his boy nodding drowsily on his lap. He looked around her to meet Emma’s gaze head on. “You must be thinking that I owe you an apology. Clearly you were about to leave this place, and because of me, you missed your ride.”

She tried to shrug it off nonchalantly, not wanting to get them kicked out in the cold, or to lay blame on him for something he couldn’t have known, but instead, to her own mortification, she felt hot tears stinging in the corners of her eyes. Though her sight grew glassy, Emma refused to let them fall. “So,” she tried for flippant, even if it fell horribly flat, “does that mean you know where we could get a replacement bean and want to help us get it?”

“Actually, Princess Emma,” Robin winked, a knowing sort of mischief in his eye, “I just might.”

~~~OuaT~~~~~CS~~~~~OuaT~~~

The following morning dawned misty and cool, but fair, and Robin greeted Emma at the simmering coals of the previous night’s campfire with a welcoming grin, Regina at his side on the stump they used for a seat, looking as soft and at ease as Emma had ever seen her, her head resting on his strong shoulder seemingly still half asleep. She and Regina had talked at length the night before, and at long last Emma had accepted that Henry’s adoptive mother wasn’t returning with her yet. “I know he isn’t the same Robin, that this whole place is built on a whim, but I’m not losing him again,” she had whispered vehemently. “There has to be another way to get back…one that he could take as well…if he wanted to…” The emotion welling in Regina’s dark eyes had been raw enough that Emma finally consented to go on without further fighting to change her mind, only giving a nod in affirmation when Regina had asked, “You’ll explain to Henry? Tell him I mean to return as soon as we both can?”

“Ready, your Highness?” the sandy-haired outlaw asked, breaking into Emma’s recent memories once more and looking down at her from where he now stood at the ready. “We should make the harbor by noon, if we set out now.”

“The harbor?” Emma asked breathlessly, dazed for a moment by what this could mean. Her heartbeat kicked up in both anticipation and dread. Surely he wasn’t here too…was he?

“Yes,” Robin answered her spoken question with an amiable nod as he kissed the back of Regina’s hand in farewell and turned to head off with Emma on his heels. “I happen to know a pirate with whom I sometimes trade my less than lawfully acquired goods. He might have just the sort of thing you need to return home…”

~~~OuaT~~~~~CS~~~~~OuaT~~~

The sound of gulls crying and wheeling overhead and the creak and groan of the wooden docks as they reached the edge of the shore town and neared the sparkling blue harbor was enough to take Emma’s breath away. Robin took a step forward to lead her down the docks, already offering to make introductions, but Emma stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm.

There before them, as recognizable as always, was the Jolly Roger, bobbing proudly at anchor. Though most might be intimidated by the sight, Emma drew in the first full breath she’d had since remembering herself in this strange realm – as if she had gotten her first real glimpse of home at last. He might still be the vengeful Captain Hook in this reality, but somehow she wasn’t afraid. He would never truly hurt her – and she only wanted to be at his side again without further delay.

Reassuring Robin that she could take it from there, Emma bid him goodbye. Though he looked uncertain, the archer took her at her word and left her with his best wishes. If she clutched his hand a moment longer and a bit tighter than would be normal and bid him be safe a little too fervently – well, she didn’t have to explain herself to anyone here…

At her first step onto the gangplank, a shudder of recognition ran through her, as if the vessel itself was welcoming her back aboard, shivers skittering along her spine. At first glance, the ship seemed deserted, her crew perhaps gathering supplies or unwinding at the nearest tavern, but the air around her wavered, charged suddenly, letting her know she was not alone. Emma felt even before she heard heavy footfalls on the planks or that deep, commanding voice at her back, asking who went there, that she had not gone undetected by the ship’s captain.

Turning, her eyes found him, hungrily drinking in the details; altered, but still without doubt the man she loved. The dark hair was windblown and unruly, practically begging for her fingers to delve into its soft abundance and brush the fringe back off his forehead. Though the strands might be shaggier and generously shot through with grey, it made him no less attractive to her starving eyes. In fact, she only wanted to stare at him all the more, to catalogue every difference, trace the deeper crow’s feet around his eyes and the added lines on his forehead. Those fathomless blue eyes were lined so liberally with the kohl she hadn’t seen him use for some time in their modern Storybrooke life that she almost wanted to chuckle at the effect until she registered the way the blue of his gaze also looked paler – as if washed out by too many tears shed alone and without comfort, or dulled by pain held back because he couldn’t afford to let it show.

Brandishing his moniker, and that dastardly, flirtatious mask he had long since let drop around her, to full effect, Captain Hook stepped well into her personal space. “And who might you be?” he questioned, breath warm on the shell of her ear as he leaned in, hook lifting the heavy rope of her golden braid and tucking it back over her shoulder. It was an achingly familiar gesture and he stood much too close for calm comfort, sending her pulse fluttering again, and yet no recognition lit his gaze as he studied her; the fond devotion she had come to rely on more than she could say was utterly absent, making her heart ache and crack in her chest.

“Princess Emma of Misthaven,” she answered as sturdily as she could, raising her chin and meeting his eye with as much confidence as she could muster. “I had hoped to speak to you on a delicate matter of some importance.”

“A delicate matter, is it?” he asked, his enunciation and the way his tongue caressed his words seductively had not been altered or diminished in the slightest, whatever else had changed. He stood back to his full height, fingers in his waistband, hips thrust forward and looking every bit as sinfully irresistible as he ever did, complete with that wide-open, chest-exposing red vest she had witnessed once in their trip to the past through Zelena’s portal. If she hadn’t known him so well, she might have been fooled by the bravado, but knowing his heart as only a True Love could, she saw the emptiness behind the lascivious look, the pain within the façade – the proper, honorable lieutenant he had been, hating the persona his course had forced him to adopt. Even as he ran his tongue across his lower lip, letting his eyes trace her curves from head to toe almost lewdly, she could see the regret clouding the pupils and the wistful longing – as if he could sense what might have been.

Unable to stop herself, Emma reached forward impulsively, grasping both his hook and hand tightly as she spoke, “Yes, very…but just maybe…I was meant to find you. Maybe you’re the only one who would believe me.”

~~~OuaT~~~~~CS~~~~~OuaT~~~

Another hour found them below deck in his cabin, seated at the scratched, weathered wooden table which had served him in his lonely meals for ages, Emma’s hand still clinging to his hook where it rested on his thigh, but the other reaching up tentatively to trace that faded scar she knew so well beneath his eye. Hook – though more and more her Killian with every passing moment – had scooted closer to her on the roughhewn bench, blinking in awe as she saw hope returning to his face. He appeared both afraid to believe her words, but also desperate for them to be true.

“So you’re telling me that all of this around us – this whole life – is an illusion?” he asked haltingly, not daring to move his eyes from her face, as though he thought she might disappear as quickly as she had come to him.

“Well, yeah, basically,” she tried to explain. “Or more like…it’s a possibility that didn’t actually come true. There’s this v-villain in my home, in the real timeline that I come from, who made a wish that reset things, and I was sucked into it. I have a son, family and friends, a-and another version of you…who’s my True Love…there missing me. And I have to get back to them.”

“There’s another me?” he breathed, and where anyone else would have been skeptical, he looked merely stunned, wanting. “And…we’re…together?”

“Yeah, we are,” she whispered, laying a hand over his rapidly beating heart and drawing comfort from its rhythm. She already felt stronger, more certain, even with this iteration of her pirate. Her watery smile quirked up into a bit of a smirk at one corner, “And don’t worry, he’s still devilishly handsome.”

Her captain’s eyes fell to their joined hand and hook in his lap, huffing out a laugh at her words. “More so than I, I’d wager,” he murmured.

Emma hummed under her breath, reaching out to run her fingers along a grey streak in his longer hair. “I don’t know about that,” she offered. “There’s something pretty appealing about this model, grey hair and all.”

“You flatter me, Milady,” he teased, that voice still a sinful purr rumbling from his chest as he lifted her hand to press a kiss to its back. Still, emotion welled up beneath the flirtation, making his magnetic gaze all the harder for her to escape. She was blinking, nonplussed and floundering for some audible response, when he straightened and pulled her to her feet with him. “Enough lollygagging then! I’ll prepare the old girl to set sail. It’s time we got you back where you belong!”

For a moment, Emma was stunned anew. This full-on piratical version of her True Love, who didn’t really even know her and had no reason to do anything she said, had not only chosen to believe her story, but was going out of his way to help her – just as he had ever since he turned his ship around to take her to Neverland. The lump in her throat was almost too much to speak around, but Emma managed to croak out, “You really would give anything to help me, wouldn’t you?” even as she shook her head in disbelief.

“Aye,” he affirmed, looking a bit like he was marveling at that fact himself. “I am not sure I fully understand, nor can I explain it to you, but I sense that I would – that I am almost compelled – to help you in any world or time you would appear to me.”

“Thank you,” was all she could really say in response, her wondering smile nearly blinding him with its brilliance.

“Come then,” he offered her his arm, his speech all business again, even while the pointed tips of his ear flushed, clearly uncomfortable with the gratitude and praise. “Above deck, and we’ll be off. I know someone who deals in nigh impossible to procure objects.”

~~~OuaT~~~~~CS~~~~~OuaT~~~

Standing beside him at the helm just a few short hours later, wind in her hair and the salt spray on her face, it struck Emma that though she was desperate to get home, to make sure her son, her family, and her Killian were alright, she didn’t want to simply abandon this pirate captain beside her. She didn’t know what would happen to him, if he would find something to live for, something to be part of, or if she was dooming him to his quiet desperation…even if he might simply vanish into nothingness with the rest of this ill-fated wish. She didn’t know what happened next, to be completely honest. Laying a hand on his forearm, she gazed up into his face, swallowing hard. “I don’t know what becomes of you, or this realm, when I leave here and go home,” she admitted. “I’m not sure if you all just go on like it never happened, if you cease to exist, if you wander here aimless forever…I just…I don’t know…”

Covering her hand with his, he guided the ship with no more than his hook rested capably on the wheel. “Worry not, Princess,” was his confident response, fervent resolve painted over his strong, careworn features. “We shall still set things right, as they should be. Whatever comes after this – infinity or oblivion – will be an awfully big adventure.”

Tagging: @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @jennjenn615 @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @thislassishooked @winterbaby89 @darkcolinodonorgasm @hollyethecurious @artistic-writer @stahlop @elizabeethan @donteattheappleshook @wefoundloveunderthelight @apiratewhopines @lfh1226-linda @xsajx @ineffablecolors @drowned-dreamer @thisonesatellite @kday426 @ultraluckycatnd @xhookswenchx @hookedonapirate @blowmiakisscolin

#self promo sunday #cs canon divergent ff #season 6 divergent one shot #into the unknown with you #wish realm fix-it fic #of a sort?

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sparklingchan · 3 years

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Prologue|| Stormbringer- Stray Kids Demigod AU

Pairing : Reader(fem.) X Felix

Word count : 1.2k+

Warnings : Family issues, mentions of mythological monsters, not edited.

Genre : Romance, Demigod AU, fluff, angst.

Description: Two twelve year olds kids with apparently normal lives find themselves in a rather uncomfortable position when they are told the truth about their not-so-normal parentage.

A/N : FINALLY I managed to post this!! I haven’t been feeling well lately so hope I didn’t keep anyone waiting too long. This prologue doesn’t necessarily connect with the main plot of the story but it does lay the backdrop for it so this part might come off as plain.

Hope everyone’s been keeping well, given the current situations. If you need anyone to talk to, I’m right here!

SERIES MASTERLIST || Click here for introduction to the story and glossary and here for the Stray Kids demigod diaries!

Lighting in the Sky

"Before the world existed, there was nothing. Only a primary void, a nothingness and ..chaos. "

Your glazed, intrigued eyes follow every word from the new book your mother reads out from, your curiosity unable to handle the wonderful way your mother always turns every story into a mystery.

The bright green cover of the book looks attractive, and smooth like glass. Instinctively, you hold your finger up to its surface.

Its cold.

" 'Famous tales from Greek Mythology ' " you read out its title, now no longer paying attention to your mother's words, "Mum, do you think the people in these stories are real?"

Your mother stops mid sentence, not really surprised when a rather familiar memory finds its way back to her. Thunderstorms, a handsome young man, rapid heartbeats, a little baby girl.

"I'd like to think so," she runs her fingers through your hair, "But not all of them are as heroic as they're made to be in these books."

You wondered what her words had meant for a long time after that. For a 12 year old girl, you'd been way too curious, way too hard to deceive. But truth is something that cannot be hidden for too long.

You remember that day as clearly as if it were yesterday.

It was your 13th birthday , a joyous day for a young girl who'd always wanted to experience the so called 'exciting' teen years. Your mum had prepared an amazing celebration for you- a small picnic by the seaside, a chocolate cake (your absolute favorite), the second edition of 'Famous tales from Greek Mythology ' as a gift. It was almost perfect.

Almost.

While on your way to the parking lot, a dog pounces at you. Except it wasn't just a dog. It was a Hell Hound.

You'd only seen the likes of it before in your story books and in your nightmares that were as vivid as memories. But you know exactly what a hellhound really is. Hellhounds are dogs that guard the Underworld - world of the dead .

"Get off of me, you dog!" You scream as the monster claws at your face.

Viscious creatures and brilliant killers these dogs are and if it weren't for two boys showing up to your rescue, you are sure you'd have become the hellhound 's food that day.

"Are you okay, y/n?" The boys ask you.

"H-how do you know my name? Who are you people?" You pant, on the verge of tears, "What was that thing?"

The taller of the two boys - Hyunjin, as he would introduce himself to you later sends a look of confusion over at the shorter boy - who also introduces himself as Minho later. "We have a lot of talking to do, y/n. Where's your mom?"

Your mom is not one bit fazed when she drives the three of you back to your small apartment. It's almost as if she'd been expecting it all along.

Once you reach your house, your mom who's usually extremely cheerful and loud, sits you down quietly on the couch and tells you the truth. Of who you are, what you are capable of.

"Sweetie, your father is not the book author you think he is. I'm so sorry I lied to you. " she sucks in a deep breath, almost scared, "Honey, your dad is...a God. A Greek God. The ones we read about."

And that one sentence turns your entire world upside down. Everything you've ever known just changes.

But sometimes changes are for the best, you'd like to think.

Minho and Hyunjin reveal that they come from a place called Camp Levanter - a home for kids like you, demigods is what they're apparently called.

"A-are you like me too?"

"Yes, y/n. We're like you." Minho says, "I'm the son of the Greek God Dionysus and Hyunjin over here is the son of the Greek goddess Aphrodite."

Hyunjin pats your head ever so gently and in an alluring voice says, "Do you want to come with? We could be your friend. How does that sound?"

You find yourself nodding almost immediately.

And just before you walk out of the door, you give your mom the tightest hug, assuring her that you'd do just fine.

"By the way, mum, what's dad's name? You never told me."

You mom sighs, as the skies outside rumble with thunder, "Your father is Zeus - the God of sky and lightning. "

The symbol of Love

"Are we going to die tonight, Nana?"

Felix shivers into the embrace and pulls his greying, old grandmother closer, her weak body already completely corrupted by the cold and snow.

"N-not you, Lixie. You have things to do." She mumbles, holding the 13 year old kid to her chest, hoping to find some kind of warmth in this freezing cold weather, "I-its not your time yet. You will go back to your father, you hear me? You didn't have to come with me anyway!"

Felix's father wasn't the nicest person - to put it decently. He didn't so as much bat an eye towards him. Perhaps he was ashamed of having a child out of wedlock or worse, he was reminded of Felix's gorgeous mother he so dearly missed everytime he saw Felix.

Anyhow, parental love never made it into Felix's life from his father's side so instead he grew up under the warmth of his grandmother's love.

On his 13th birthday, Felix receives his first and last gift from his father; a step mother. That fall, his father marries an old colleague in a small ceremony. And Felix would later go on to hate himself for ever thinking that this new addition to the family might fill up the blank space his birth mother had left behind.

Not ten days after the wedding, his new step mother 'accuses' his grandmother of being rude and unwelcoming and begs his father to throw her out of the house.

Which all comes down to this moment, where his grandmother is freezing to death and he cannot do anything but watch silently.

"Hey, do you need help?" When Felix hears that voice, his first instinct is to brush it off as a hallucination, for who would help two homeless people in this bone chilling weather?

"Felix, do you need help?" A few rapid footsteps and two boys present themselves in front of him, panting as if they'd been running all the while.

"W-who are you?" He stutters, hugging his grandmother closer, "How do you know my name?"

One of the two boys reply gently, "I'm sure you have a lot of questions, Felix. How about we go to my place? Your grandmother might like a warm cup of tea, don't you think?"

And so he agrees to go with the two boys.

Once they'd warmed his Nana up and fed her, Felix gently tucks her into the bed of the guest room they'd been given. As scared as Felix was to accept their help, he knew he had no option. His grandmother meant the world to him and he couldn't watch her succumb right in front of his eyes.

The two boys are very careful in approaching Felix, making sure to not scare him more than he already is.

"What are your names? How do you know me?" They let a whole hour pass by as the three boys sit on the dining table, occupied with plates of untouched food and full bottles of water, letting Felix be the one to start conversation. And when he finally does, Changbin breathes a sigh of relief. Really, he was starving but he didn't want to seem rude in front of their new friend.

"I'm Chan," Chan introduces himself, and then Changbin speaks, "I'm Changbin. And why do we know you, you ask - well the three of us have quite a lot in common, you see. More than what meets the mortal eye."

Mortal eye? What's this all about? Felix finds himself more confused than he already was.

"We're the children of Greek gods, Felix. " Chan sighs, " You, me and Changbin. Is it hard to believe?"

Felix is about to say 'yes' out of pure impulse but he holds his tongue this time ; these guys don't seem like the kind to make such obnoxious claims, even as a joke. All his life, Felix had spent as an outcast, among his friends, among his cousins, among his classmates. His father had treated him like he were a monster. And his estranged mother who his father never said anything about? Felix finds suspicion knocking at his door.

Whilst its still extremely hard to believe, Felix responds,

"I want to believe you."

Chan and Changbin exchange a look of surprise, complete astonishment since none of them had expected Felix to even listen to them. And now that they have his attention, they find themselves a tad bit pressured as well.

"But don't disappoint me," Felix mutters, more to himself than to the boys, "Don't give me hope just to snatch it away."

And much to his surprise, he isn't left disappointed this time. These two boys manage to change his life completely, and now when Felix goes to bed at night, he finds a rather foreign feeling of fulfillment in his heart.

and for the first time in forever, he lets himself hope. Hope for a new family who would make up for the love his father could never offer. Hope for better days to come now that he's finally found a new identity and a new life.

****

Taglist: @chogiwow@ctrlaltfangirl@blueprint-han@whattaweeb@bigskzz@judewalid@kpopssuregi@crispy-chan

Note: Please DM or send an ask if you wish to be added to the taglist!

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tangledstarlight · 4 years

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hi im back again with another jatp 5+1 thing because i have no self control and work has been real slow lately. this time it started because i was thinking about the plants in the studio garage and who watered them yknow?? and well. now we have this. i’m very sorry.

sidenote: this is apparently turning into a lil series so if anyones got any ideas of reggie or alex hmu cos im drawing a blank

ANYWAY it’s a 5+1 julie centric with a happy ending because Julie Molina can and will save those boys with the power of love.

also on ao3

trigger warnings! death mentions (because they’re ghosts (also her mother is yknow. dead)), mild swearing.

one.

When she was six Julie had made a very detailed presentation - including glitter and coloured print outs, courtesy of Carrie’s printer - on why she should be allowed to get a pet fish. There had been charts and graphs - because she’d seen someone on tv using charts and graphs and getting what they wanted so obviously it was the way to go - and little hands outs in the form of flyers and posters she’d found in the school library.

She’d stood in front of her parents in the living room, Carrie holding up the bar graph, Flynn supporting the pie chart, and she had made her case. She had promised to feed them, to help clean out the tank and filter. She’d pointed out how having a fish didn’t need walking and that they were quiet and there was never really any mess to clean up. A fish would be the perfect pet.

A week later on a sunny Saturday morning, the three Molina’s walked into a pet store. Julie had done a lot of thinking in the last week about what kind of fish she wanted. Carrie, Flynn and herself had spent a painstaking afternoon looking through photos on google until they found the perfect fish.

So she almost didn’t notice the tank in the back corner of the store that looked a little dark and dingy, with two fish swimming aimlessly around the decoration-less tank. There wasn’t anything particularly special or different about these fish, they looked like every other goldfish she’d ever seen. Yellow-gold scales, large eyes, fins that always reminded her of wings, one of them seemed to be turning almost white while the other had little spots of black mixing with the gold.

Julie tilted her head as she peered into the tank, blowing a stray curl out of her face as she furrowed her brow. She couldn’t say why, but these fish just seemed so very sad to her.

“They’re sad,” she said out loud, looking over at her parents where they were standing talking to a shop assistant about different types of tanks. “Why are they by themselves?”

“Those two are returns. Kid didn’t want them anymore so they bought them back,” the man said, already sounding bored of the conversation. But the frown on Julie's face deepened as she looked back at the fish. No wonder they were sad. Pulling her lower lip between her teeth, Julie looked around at all the other fish tanks around her, at all the bright happy fish swimming around and made up her mind.

“Can we get these two please?” She pointed at the tank in front of her, careful not to touch the glass because she didn’t want to scare them. That would be a terrible first introduction.

“I thought you wanted one of the ones with orange and black splotches?” Her mom said coming to stand next to her, because that’s all she’d been talking about on the drive over. About the fish that she’d wanted. Julie nodded her head quickly and then shook it once, hair flying in front of her face again that her mom gently moved away.

“I did! But these two are sad and no one wants them which isn’t fair. They didn’t do anything wrong. But I want them. And I’ll look after them and love them and they can be happy! Please momma, these ones?” Julie watched as her parents exchanged a look, eyebrows raising and lips twitching. She didn’t know what any of it meant, but her dad said something about needing a tank big enough for two and forty-five minutes later they were leaving the shop with a tank and two sad looking fish.

Julie had been so engrossed in looking at her new fish, naming them and telling them all about their new home and how they were going to be able to see the TV so clearly from their spot in the living room that she didn’t hear the shop assistants comment about how they probably only had a few months left to live.

Two years later as Juile went about her usual Saturday morning routine of breakfast and cartoons and pretending to help her mom with the crossword she paused to say hello to her fish. Empty bowl in her hand and halfway to the kitchen when she looked into the tank and felt her heart drop.

“Mom! Dad!”

Her parents both came rushing in from the kitchen at her distressed call, finding her staring into the glass tank she had taken hours to decorate with silent tears dripping down her face as the two fish floated listless at the top.

“Oh sweetie,” her mom said, a hand resting on her chest and as she wrapped her other arm around her daughter's shoulders, pulling her close to her side.

“They’re dead,” Julie said quietly, because she had done all her research two years ago about fish and how to look after them and what they liked. And how to tell if they were dead.

“Yeah they are,” her mom gave her a gentle squeeze, turning her away from the tank and leading her to the sofa so they could sit down. “But you gave them the best two years with the way you looked after them. Decorating their home and making sure they got only the best food and keeping them company. They weren’t so sad anymore.”

And Julie just nods her head, wiping tears away on her sleeves and swallowing when she feels more tears welling in her eyes.

“Can we bury them?”

“Of course we can mija. There's that old shoe box in the closet upstairs, why don’t you go get it and we can decorate it for them, huh? Put their names on it, make it look nice,” her dad, perched on the arm of the sofa said, running one hand over her hair as he smiled down at her.

“Okay.”

They bury the two fish in a cardboard shoe box decorated with glitter and stickers in the back garden, next to a little flower bed near the studio garage and Julie cries again but it’s not so sad. Because she had given her fish the two best years she could and her mom is holding her hand while her dad has her hugged to his side. And maybe death isn’t so sad if they’ve lived a happy long life.

two.

The plant sat on her desk staring at her.

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t staring at her, because it was a plant and, as far as Julie knew, plants couldn’t stare. But if they could this one would be.

Actually it would probably be glaring at her. Using it’s last dregs of life to make sure it’s murderer knew what they had done and felt guilty about it.

Julie hadn’t meant to kill the little plant. She’d just… forgotten it was sitting on her windowsill in her bedroom, in direct sight of the sun everyday for the last three months. Without getting watered once.

She was eleven years old and a plant killer.

Julie dropped her head into her hands and let out a groan, throwing herself backwards onto her bed so only her feet were dangling off the end. That’s how her mom finds her twenty minutes later.

“Everything okay in here?” She asked, a laugh in her tone that just makes Julie groan again.

“No!” She whines, not sitting up but at least moving her hands from in front of her face as her mom comes further into her room and sits on the edge of her bed.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?”

“I killed the plant,” Julie mutters, a pout on her lips as her eyebrows are drawn together and she glares at the ceiling. Just how she’d imagined the plant glaring at her.

“Ah,” is all she gets in response which just makes Julie glare harder at her ceiling, even as she feels tears pooling in her eyes.

“I’m a plant killer mom. Does that make me a bad person?”

She can almost feel the shock coming from her mom as she looks down at her, eyes a little wide as the older woman shakes her head. And then her eyes soften and she’s pulling Julie up so they’re sitting side by side on the bed, looking at the plant she has murdered by default.

“Oh Julie. Did you mean to kill the plant?” She asks and Julie immediately shakes her head, hair flying everywhere and eyes widening in horror at the thought.

“No! Of course I didn’t! I swear!”

“Well there you go then. You just made a mistake my love, everyone makes mistakes. Sometimes they can lead things like a plant dying,” her mom gestures in front of them with one hand while the other brushes tears off her cheeks. “Sometimes they can lead to bad things happening to someone else. But it’s what you do in response to your mistake that really matters. You’re not a bad person Julie, I don’t even think you’d know how to be a bad person.”

Julie sniffed, eyes locked on the plant as she thought over her mom's words and what they meant and what she could do with them.

“Can we get a new plant? And maybe– maybe keep it in the studio so I’ll remember to water it when I go practice?” She turned her eyes up to her mom and was greeted with a wide smile, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“That sounds like a great plan!”

three.

Sometimes you make friends when you’re a little kid and just assume they’re always going to be in your life. Because when you’re a little kid and when you say someone is your best friend, you mean it, whole heartedly and without a single doubt in your mind.

For as long as Julie can remember it had always been the two of them.

Julie and Carrie.

Carrie and Julie.

Best friends forever.

She knew they had met because their parents knew each other, that they’d always gone to the same schools, the same parks. She knew that when Carrie’s mom had left her dad spent three weeks drinking and shouting and playing music too loud, that Carrie had spent the majority of those three weeks at her house. She knew that whenever she learnt a new song that Carrie would have a dance routine worked out within hours.

Julie knew that no matter what went right or wrong in her life, Carrie would be there to have her back.

Because they were best friends.

Nothing had ever really changed in their friendship, not even when they’d met Flynn on the first day of first grade and immediately decided their duo was now a trio. Because they were kids, and when kids declared they were best friends, they meant it.

At least Julie had meant it.

Now, curled up under the covers on her bed, tear tracks on her face and a headache forming behind her eyes, she starts to wonder if Carrie had ever meant it. She starts to reevaluate their entire friendship, her entire childhood. There’s very few memories of the last fourteen years of her life that don’t involve Carrie in some way.

That thought just makes a fresh wave of tears fill her eyes and dampen her pillow.

The words are still echoing in her head. The tone she had used, the hand on her hip, the tossing of her hair, the look of disgust on her face. Julie had seen it all before, she’d just never seen if directed at her or Flynn.

“Don’t you get it? We are not friends anymore. I don’t hang out with pathetic losers like you.”

Around and around in her head the words bounced. Julie doesn’t know what changed from Friday afternoon to Monday morning, doesn’t know what she did or didn’t do, doesn’t know how she’s meant to react other than crying.

Which is apparently one of the many, many, things that make her a pathetic loser.

Along with being childish and unfashionable and boring and not the right type of person for Dirty Candi – a group that Julie had helped her form, encouraged her to start, helped brainstorm a name for and decide on who would wear which colour. A band, that no Julie thought about it, she had never been asked to join. Not once during the whole process did it ever come up.

Julie had never even seen the distance growing between them. Hadn’t noticed when Carrie decided on who she wanted to be, and who that person was didn’t need someone like Julie around.

Twenty minutes later, with Julie still hiding under her duvet and some playlist of sad songs playing on youtube, Flynn comes through the door. Dropping her bag next to the bed and joining her under the covers. Julie turns to face her, closing out of the app so they’re left in silence. Flynn’s been crying too, she notes, because Carrie had ended her friendship with both of them. Said mean and hurtful things about both of them.

“Carrie’s a bitch,” Flynn mutters her eyes on the ceiling but there’s no real heat in her words. They’re both too in shock and sadness right now, Julie realises. Do you have to go through the five stages of grief even if the person you lost hasn’t died? She’s never thought about that before.

“Yeah, she is,” Julie agrees. Because it’s true. Carrie has always been a little bit of a bitch, she’s just never directed it at them. In fact she’d never actually been so outright mean to anyone and in the back of her mind, Julie wonders what happened in the forty eight hours that they didn’t see her.

They’ll probably never find out the answer to that question. It’s just a fact of life that Julie is going to have to come to terms with, she supposes. Her and Carrie had been best friends once. They weren’t anymore.

Her mom finds them twenty minutes later still tucked under the duvet and concocting plans on how they can possibly egg Carries house without being caught. She leans against the doorframe, her cheek pressing to the wood as she crosses her arms over her chest and smiles at them both.

“How about I make us some hot chocolate and we come up with a plan that doesn’t involve you two doing anything illegal, huh?” And who are they to say no to hot chocolate when they’re sad?

four.

Music had never been about being the best or winning or even competitions to Julie. It had always been about the emotions, the lyrics, the actual music. That’s not to say she didn’t like it when she won though. Because she did. She very much liked it when a group of strangers gathered together and decided she was the best of the bunch.

So it also hurt when she didn’t win. Even if the loss was deserved. She’d messed up the intro to the song, had forgotten some of the lyrics half way through, had even been a little out of tune at the beginning she knew.

So she knew she wasn’t going to win. But it still sucked. It especially sucked when Carrie strolled past, tossing her hair over her shoulder and glancing in her direction before saying something that made her friends laugh long and loud. Julie felt her face flushing, tucked a stray curl behind her ear before pulling it back free and trying to hide her face behind it.

It wasn’t that losing in a silly school music competition was really a big deal. It was just one really bad performance that just happened to be a little more important than any of her previous ones. It didn’t count for a grade, it wouldn’t go on her report card or in her file. It was something she’d signed up for for fun. For a laugh.

She just happened to be the one people were laughing at. Which just, it really sucked. There was no other way to describe it.

She said as much later when she sat on the sofa and Carlos wandered into the room, a box of cereal tucked under one arm with a handful of the stuff in the other, and asked what was wrong. He stands in silence for a few seconds, stuff the cereal into his mouth before coming to some kind of conclusion and sitting next to her on the sofa, offering her some of his cereal. It’s enough to jerk a surprised laugh out of Julie as she accepts the offer.

“You’re way better than all those people at your school. I should know, I have to listen to you sing all the time,” he says it so matter of factly. And even though he’s nine year old and hasn’t heard anyone else from her school perform (other than Carrie and Flynn, but he dislikes Carrie on principle and knows that Flynn didn’t perform) Julie finds herself believing him for a moment.

She leans back on the sofa, pulling Carlos down with her with one arm around his shoulders until they’re sprawled together, box of cereal between them.

“You’re a good brother,” she mutters, tries to make it sound like a rare admittance to the fact, even if Julie often thinks it.

“In that case will you watch Ben10 with me? There’s new episodes out.” He grins at her, big and toothy because he knows that she doesn’t like the animation of the new Ben10 but that she’s never quite been able to say no to him when he asks.

So Julie huffs out a sigh, disentangles her arms from around his shoulders to reach for the remote and flips through the channels until she finds the right one then settles back down next to him.

They share the box of cereal, sheepish smiles on their faces when their mom comes through half an hour later and finds them covered in crumbs and giggling at the screen. She just shakes her head at them, but there’s a fond sort of smile on her lips that Julie knows means she’s more amused then annoyed.

As they all sit around the dinner table later that evening, Julie arguing with Carlos about how much better the original Ben10 was and her dad nodding along as if he knows what they’re talking about and her mom humming some new song she’s been working on under her breath, she forgets all about losing some silly little music competition.

five.

Julie had never really thought about it before – mostly because she’d never had to spend much time in one – but hospitals were strange places.

They were a bit like airports she decided. Places where time lost all sense of reality. It must have something to do with the lights, she thinks, how they’re never turned off. You could walk into one at two in the afternoon (lights bright) and leave at three in the morning (the lights still bright) without even realising it had been more than an hour.

The difference was, she supposed, that if you were in an airport you were probably going somewhere nice and fun. You might even get a fun meal and a new book. There’d be people crowded at the windows to wave at planes as they left. An airport was a strange place but it had an underlying feeling of fun and excitement about it.

Hospitals just screamed dread and worry. And, if she could go her whole life without ever stepping foot in another hospital Julie would.

She finds herself thinking the same thing about the studio garage as she stands outside it. One door is open and she can see half the piano, papers sitting on the top and the plants she had helped pick out waiting to be watered.

That’s why she’s stood there, she needs to go in and water the plants. But she just can’t make herself take the next step, the one that will have her crossing the door and being inside. Julie doesn’t think she’s ever been inside the studio without her mom. Or without knowing that her mom would be joining her inside in a few minutes.

Julie doesn’t know how long she stands there for, one hand gripping the door handle tightly while the other shakes at her hand, fingers trying to find purchase in the soft material of her black skirt.

She needs to water the plants, it’s the only thing in her mind.

She needs to water the plants because she had promised her mom she’d water them when they’d gone to the store to pick them out even though they’d split it between them.

She needs to water the plants because it’s been a week and they’ll start to die soon and Julie doesn’t want to be a plant murder again.

She needs to water the plants because her mom is dead and it's her job now.

Flynn finds her still standing there, staring at the piano and the plants and the quite empty room. Dimly, Julie notices the black dress her friend is wearing, the muted accessories and the concern in her eyes.

“Hey,” she says. And it’s quiet, careful in a way that Flynn is rarely quiet and careful when she speaks.

“I need to water the plants.” Is all Julie can say, unable to draw her eyes away from where they are in the garage.

Because she needs to water the plants but she can’t make herself step foot in the garage because her mom is dead and it’s the funeral in an hour but she needs to water the plants because there’s no one else who knows where the watering can is or which ones need spraying instead but she can’t move because her mom is dead and the studio is quite and the plants are dying and her mom is dead.

“Okay. Okay, how about you tell me what to do and I’ll water them, yeah?” Flynn is holding her hand, the one she’d had gripped painfully tight to the door handle. Julie doesn’t even know when she took it. She’s not sure if she nods or makes some kind of sound, all she knows is that Flynn is squeezing her hand quickly and then she’s in the studio garage and following the instructions Julie forces past her lips.

When she’s done Flynn helps her close the door, lock it up and leads her back into the house. There’s family and friends already milling about. Offering condolences and deepest regrets and offering empty help. Julie can see her dad and Tia Victoria talking to a large group of people. Can see them keeping it together.

She can see Carlos sitting at the dining room table with an untouched mug of something in front of him and watches as Carrie sits down next to him. Watches as she says something that makes him smile just a little, because Carrie had always been able to make Carlos smile, even when he was mad or upset at them all. They used to joke it was her super power.

Julie didn’t even know Carrie was coming today. Doesn’t know how she’s meant to feel about it either.

As if sensing them looking Carrie looks up, makes eye contact and gives her a small smile, a tilt of her head. There’s something in her eyes that Julie can’t decipher. Doesn’t have the energy to try to. Flynn squeezes her hand once even as Julie nods back at Carrie. They haven’t been friends in a long time, but they used to be best friends and Carrie had once been like family.

She supposes it makes sense that Carrie is here. That she is sitting next to Carlos and talking to him quietly. That she can see Mr Wilson talking to her dad. It’s been a long time since either of them were in this house and Julie wishes that they weren’t here because of this.

Julie supposes she should be good at losing things and people by now. She’s learnt to deal with it via a fish and plants and friends. She’d just never thought the thing she’d be losing would be her mom. That she would have to find a way through all this hurt without her mom by her side. Because she had always been by her side through every other loss.

She cries quietly, stood in the kitchen with Flynn holding her hand tightly and people passing by them with sad looks on their faces and concern in their eyes.

She cries quietly as she thinks about how cruel and awful the world is for taking away one of the people she loves most.

She cries quietly as she wonders how the hell she is supposed to get through it all.

+one.

They’re not sure when it happens or what's changed or what they did. One day they just wake up and things are different.

Or, not different per say, but more how they used to be BHD – before the hot dogs. Which is what the boys insist on calling their stint as ghosts no matter how many times Julie vetoes it. And she’s vetoed it a lot.

Really, the first sign that something had happened should have been the fact Julie walked in on them piled on top of each other on the sofa in the living room, passed out asleep. They were ghosts. Ghosts weren’t meant to sleep. But she brushes it aside, thinks maybe it's more of a reflex thing.

It isn’t until three hours later as she hugs Reggie in celebration of a particularly good shot with the basketball outside that Julie notices the thing that’s different.

She can feel his heart beating in his chest. A steady thumping where there hadn’t been before.

“Reggie…” she starts, eye wide as she looks from his chest to his face, trying to see if he’s noticed. If he knows that his heart is beating blood around his body. But he just looks at her confused, his eyebrows drawing together and his lips quirking to the side like they do when he thinks he’s in trouble.

“I swear I didn’t cheat. I’m just that good!” He holds his hands up in defense, but Julie reaches out to grab his left wrist and cradles it in one hand while she presses two fingers along the inside, trying to find his pulse point like she’s seen doctors do (she blinks back the memories of the last time she saw a doctor press their fingers to someones wrist, searching for something that wasn’t there and the small shake of their head) and letting out a small gasp when she finds it.

“Er what’s going on over here?” Luke asks curiously as he eyes the way Julie is holding Reggies wrist and the growing realisation on Reggie’s face.

Julie doesn’t answer him, just reaches out to grab hold of Luke’s wrist and proceeds to do the same thing. Fingertips pressing into the soft skin on his wrist, and for the first time Julie sees the light blue tell-tale sign of blood flowing through veins under his skin.

And then she feels it, the faint pulsating.

She lets out a choked sob, letting her hand that was holding his wrist steady fly up cover her mouth even as the other stays in place, almost scared that if she moves her fingers the pulse will vanish and with it this strange miracle she thinks they’ve been given.

“Holy shit,” she hears Luke whispers above her and she looks up to see him with his free hand resting over his heart, eyes widening with each beat they can both feel.

She doesn’t have any words to say in response. Holy shit seems to be a pretty accurate reaction. Still holding on to Lukes wrist, Julie turns around to see Alex and Reggie each holding the other's wrist like some strange handshake. Unconsciously they all seem to move towards each other, in awkward small steps as no one is prepared to let go of the other until they stand in a loose circle and Julie can press her fingers into Alex’s free wrist and feel his pulse too.

Three pulses where there hadn't been one before. She lets out a half laugh, half sob.

“Is this real?” Alex asks, his eyes wide with unshed tears, as if he’s holding himself back. And Julie remembers when they all first met and how he’d said he never dealt well with change and how death was a big change and how now. Now they might be going through a bigger one. She lets her fingers slip down from his wrist so she’s holding his hand and squeezes it tightly.

“I think so.”

There has never been any answers for their situation. For being ghosts. For being seen by Julie or seen when they play. Definitely no answers for why they could suddenly be touched or seen by others. (Though secretly, in the dark of her room in the dead of night Julie had wondered if it was love that had done it all. Her love for them, her mom's love for her.)

The last two years had just been them guessing at every turn and getting lucky each time. They had written their own ghostly rule book, and getting a heartbeat again would just have to be the newest chapter.

“We’ll just have to figure it out, like we’ve figured everything else out,” Julie says, squeezing Alex’s hand and Luke’s wrist and smiling wide at Reggie. A few moments of silence pass between them, the boys still feeling their hearts beating, counting each one before it’s broken by a startled gasp and they all look to Luke.

“Hey! Do you think this means we can eat now?” Luke asks, his eyebrows shooting up at the thought. No doubt already planning what he wants from the kitchen.

“Only one way to find out man,” Reggie shrugs but his smile is wide and Julie knows not being able to eat has been one of the biggest disappointments of their afterlife for all three of them.

That’s how her dad and Carlos find them half an hour later, gathered around the island in the kitchen with sandwich ingredients scattered around all available surfaces. And three not-so-ghosts eating their creations as Julie looks on with a wide smile.

“Um–” is all dad gets out, a hand half up in the air as he points at them with confusion. Her dad has been pretty understanding about the whole ‘my band is made up of three teenage ghosts, oh, and by the way they kinda live in our garage’ thing, but she can’t blame him for being confused by this scene. Ghosts aren’t supposed to be able to eat after all.

“Woah what did we miss!?” Carlos, ever the enthusiast for all things ghost related, is already running across the kitchen, pulling out the chair next to Julie’s and kneeling next to her, eyes darting between the three older boys as he leans on the contertop to be even closer. “Are they eating? How are they eating?”

Julie shrugs one shoulder, turning her eyes to Carlos and her dad, who’s moved from the doorway to stand at the end of the island, watching all of them.

“We’re not sure but–” Julie starts only to be cut off by Reggie who drops his sandwich back to his plate and stretches out his arms, one to her dad and one to Carlos with possibly the widest smile Julie has ever seen on him.

“Check this out. Go on, feel y’know, with your middle and forefinger. Right there, yeah.” The four of them watch as her dad and Carlos do as instructed, fingers resting over the pulse points on Reggie’s wrists. Her dad finds it first, and Julie can pinpoint the exact moment he must feel the thrumming of a heartbeat because his eyes widen a fraction even as they fill with tears she hadn’t been expecting.

Which is silly, if she really thinks about it, because the boys have found a way into all their lives and hearts so seamlessly.

Because Reggie spends time with her dad helping out around the kitchen or while he fiddles with his camera and jokes around with Carlos and talks with him late at night when he’s supposed to be sleeping.

Because Alex watches all the terrible telenovela’s with him that her and Carlos hate and asks questions about all the movies they’ve missed, and he spends time helping Carlos with his history homework and practices his ball throwing when their dad is busy.

Because Luke listens to him talk about composition and lighting and perspective with real interest and takes his music suggestions seriously and has been teaching Carlos to play guitar when they think no one is around.

They’ve filled a gap in their family that they hadn’t even realised was there.

It wasn’t like their home was lacking in love and laughter and light, it had just been dimmed down. It was like they’d shut all their curtains after her mom had died, and were making do with a cheap light bulb and rare rays of sunlight that peaked through and lit up their life in tiny bursts.

But then along came three dead teenagers and without them noticing, without Julie even realising, they’d opened up the curtains again. Let all the light stream back in and never asked for anything in return other than being allowed to stick around.

So maybe this was their reward.

As her dad and Carlos worked their way through feeling the pulse on each of the boys, pulling them into hugs and sharing in their excitement, Julie let herself smile, tears trailing down her cheeks as she felt her own heartbeat with one hand over her chest.

She didn’t know if this was her mom’s doing or her own or if they’d just accidentally done it themselves with sheer will power.

All Julie knew was that her boys were here, were breathing and eating, had hearts beating in their chests, and were being given their second chance at life.

All Julie really knew was that she loved them, had hoped for a way to keep them, had proud every bit of love and hope into each hug they’d ever shared.

All Julie knew was that she wished she could thank whoever or whatever it was that was answering her pleaded request and allowing her to keep them.

She doesn’t notice them moving, too busy thinking and sending thanks into the world, but all of a sudden there are three pairs of arms wrapping themselves around her in an uncomfortable and awkward hug. But she doesn’t care. She just grabs onto whoevers arm she can, lets out a small laugh of joy and holds them tight. Never intending on letting them go.

#julie and the phantoms #julie molina #carrie wilson #flynn jatp #luke patterson #alex jatp #reggie jatp #jatp #enjoy!!! sorry the ends a wee bit naff tho i think #rosie vs writing #*#*fics

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ilguna · 4 years

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Metanoia - Chapter Twelve (f.o)

Summary: you will be crowned victor of the 75th hunger games.

Word Count; 3k

Warnings; swearing, mention of murder and torture

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

The second that you stepped foot off of the hovercraft, all you heard was the distant sound of gunfire. The peacekeeper gave you a bitter reminder of your due date, and then kicked you off the ramp almost instantly after. You waited a moment to make sure that the hovercraft was long gone, and then you went straight for the noise.

You know that they would want you to head straight to your house, which is the exact reason why you chose not to. They probably have something there waiting for you. A note, a bunch of roses, your house being trashed, bloodstains--maybe it’s been set on fire! It doesn’t matter to you all that much.

You’d much rather know what’s going on in the heart of the district, than take a shower and get a change of clothes. Plus, you only have two weeks until your evaluation by Snow, which means you have to act fast. And this is all under the assumption that there won’t be people checking up on you every couple of days.

You came up with a plan on the way here, as any sane person would. The basis of the plan being; you’re not going to follow Snow’s directions in the slightest. You’re not going to calm the people down, you’re going to add fuel to the fire.

Snow threatening to kill Tanith is the last fucking straw. Him threatening to strap you to a chair and torture you like Peeta and Johanna is one thing, but bringing Tanith into this, when she has nothing to do with it, is a whole ‘nother ring of hell. If he thought for one fucking second that he’d get away with a statement like that, he’s wrong.

You’re not going to fuck up your life twice, especially not because of what Snow says or does.

You weigh the necklace in your hand for a second, staring down at it. Then, you unclasp it, and bring it around your neck. Once it’s not tangled in your hair, you let it rest against your chest.

The entire district seems to be barren--at least that’s what you’ve seen on the way. All houses have their doors shut, but windows are broken and porches are in splinters. The shops are basically the same way, though it’s much worse. Some are burnt down, others are void of all things that were once inside.

It looks like a tornado blew through here, and had no mercy. Everything that could have been ruined, is. It’ll cost thousands of dollars to fix the damage done on these places. Buying a whole new house or store would be much easier than to restore what it looked like before.

“Approaching civilian!” Someone yells above you.

Covering your eyes, you look up to see where they are, since this is the first person you’ve come across the entire walk. The second that your eyes adjust, you’re met with a gun pointed at your face.

“Point that away from me!” you snap.

“Who are you, and how did you get back here?” a different voice asks closer to you.

Lowering your hand and whipping your head to where it came from, the situation isn’t much better. There’s a man with an automatic rifle pointed at your chest, finger near the trigger as if he doesn’t know if he should pull it or not. Not to mention all the people behind him hovering, and having the same intentions as him.

You should pick your words carefully.

“My name is (Y/n) Rosecelli, victor of the sixty sixth hunger games, tribute of the Quarter Quell.” What a hell of an introduction, “And I walked.”

He lowers the gun a bit, “You’re alive?”

Your first reaction is to scoff, “It’ll take a lot more than the Capitol to kill me, am I supposed to be dead?”

“That’s what we were told.”

“Hell of a shock, then.” you resume walking, “Who’s in charge of District Two’s rebellion? Like, who’s organizing the attacks against the loyalists?”

“Lyme.” A girl answers, “She’s also a victor.”

Lyme… well, you definitely recognize the name, and you can hardly remember what she looks like. Tall, likes to exercise, short blonde hair. She’s always been more modest and rebellious, it doesn’t surprise you that much. She’s older than you, almost twice your age.

“Take me to her.” you tell them.

“You’ve got it.” the boy says.

It’s a long walk, as you’re told. The only good news he had to offer was that you wouldn’t have to fight your way through gunfire to get to the Capitol building--where she’s at. They’ve pushed back most of the loyalists into the train tunnels that run through the mountains. Everyday they gain new ground, but they don’t really dare to go inside of the tunnels. It’s the loyalists’ territory.

“So, where have you been?”

“The Capitol.” you say, following the boy around the corner, “Unconscious and recovering from venom. I’m not easy to get rid of.”

“How’d you get here?”

“Snow organized a personal hovercraft to drop me in the abandoned part of District Two, near Victor’s Village. You should probably get some people watching over there in case it happens again, so the peacekeepers won’t be able to sneak up on you as easily.”

They don’t say anything else after that, even though you mentioned Snow pretty boldly. Of all things they could have asked you about, they ignored the one that would give them the most answers on why you’re here and wanting to see Lyme first.

“I’m going to check to make sure that it’s clear.” the girl says, the rest of you wait for minutes on end, and none of them seem antsy about it.

When she does show up, she tells you that you’re clear to head up, but they’ve got to go back to parolling. She says that you should mention the abandoned thing to Lyme, since she’s more likely to listen to you, and then they walk away.

You take the easiest path you could possibly take to approach the Justice Building. It’s also the one that will put you in the open, allowing the people standing out front to get a good look at you. If you snuck up through the shadows, they’d likely be more distrusting.

You hold your hands up even before you’re out from around the corner. They turn their guns on you quickly, but you don’t stop walking, “I’m here to speak to Lyme.”

“Stop--!”

“I don’t have any weapons on me, put your guns down before you shoot me by accident.” you head up the stairs, “My name is (Y/n) Rosecelli, and I’m here to talk to Lyme. I don’t have much time, so let’s leave the formalities for another time.”

“We should go get her--”

The second you turn to look at him, he stiffens, “Open the fucking door and bring me to her, or you’re going to be added to the graveyard.”

His eyes slowly drag to your arm, which is very clearly presented thanks to the short-sleeved shirt.

No words come from him as he opens the door and heads inside. You follow behind him, and from how new your shoes are, they sound like heels against the tile floor. You’re surprised that they aren’t squeaking as if you’ve just come in with water on the bottom of them. You guess that you should be grateful instead.

The guy brings you up the staircase, “You don’t have any weapons on you?”

You have a hundred snarky things that you’re willing to say to him, but you settle for the simple, “No.”

He brings you around a corner, and knocks on a door a couple times. He makes you wait out of sight while he opens the door, “You’ve got a guest.”

“We’re busy--”

“She insists.” he says, and then he allows you to come over.

You don’t wait in the doorway, you head straight inside, “Scram, runt.”

He tries to stand his ground, but the second you force the door to shut, he removes his fingers. After that, you go up to the table to see who’s standing there.

Lyme, as you expected. But there’s a strangely familiar face standing near her, finger still pointing out a place on the map. When she realizes that you see the place she’s pointing at, she retracts her finger into a fist.

“Who are you?” she asks.

You laugh, crossing your arms as you get closer to the map. There’s a bunch of lines drawn in pink marker, and considering the amount of space left behind the line, you’re guessing that’s the rebel’s side. As for the loyalists, they’re marked in red, like they’re the bad guys.

You place your hand on the free space, “Just letting you know, since this entire place is abandoned, the Capitol can sneak right in.” you look up, they’re puzzled, “The Capitol had enough room to drop me off and leave without anyone noticing--I walked for miles until I finally came upon one of your scouting groups. If you’re not careful, they can drop peacekeepers off behind you guys, and you might as well be extinct after that.”

“You’re from the Capitol?” Lyme asks, one of the guys by the window reaches for something in their belt, you can take a solid guess on what it is, even without the sight of it.

“I’m a little disappointed that you don’t recognize me, but I can point you two out even if your guys’ hunger games were ten to twenty years before mine.” you remove your hand from the map now, “As I’ve introduced myself a hundred times now, (Y/n) Rosecelli, District Two’s tribute for the Quell.”

Lyme’s face lights up, “I thought I knew you. You were in the Capitol?”

“Snow took Peeta, Johanna and I out of the arena. While he was ordering people to torture Johanna and Peeta, he put me in a ‘medically induced coma’.” you use the quotation marks, “Because of the spider venom in the arena. Today is my first day back to life, and I’ve experienced more than my fair share of shit today.”

“Welcome back.” Paylor says.

Paylor is a victor from District Eight, like six years or so before your games. She’s young, and really fucking pretty. You’re just a little dumbfounded on why she’s here in District Two, rather than ordering around her own district.

“Thanks.”

Lyme shifts on her feet, “You don’t look too bad.”

“I’ve got scars all over my body, they’re just not visible above the waist.” you shake your head, “And the only reason why I’m even in good condition, is because Snow wants me to calm down the rebels.”

“But you’re not going to.” There’s an edge to Paylor’s voice.

“No, I’m not. Instead, I want a ride to District Thirteen. That’s where Katniss and Finnick are, right?”

Lyme nods, but her face is scrunched up, “I can’t send a hovercraft there because I don’t have any. You’ll have to wait until Coin sends one here with supplies.”

“Coin?”

“President Alma Coin.” Paylor answers, “She’s the leader of District Thirteen.”

Great, another dictatorship.

“Alright, when’s the next supply drop?” you shift on your feet.

Paylor and Lyme share a look, clearly thinking.

“We got one a week ago?” Lyme asks.

“Not even that, a few days ago,” Paylor shakes her head when she looks back at you, “You’ll have to wait at least a week, maybe more.”

You laugh, but nothing about this is funny, “You do know the state of Peeta and Johanna?”

“We know about Peeta, he’s been televised a few times.” A guy says.

“Alright, well take the last time that he was on air, and worsen that by ten. They’re fucking torturing them, you realize that? Johanna had her head shaved and she was drenched in water, like they were waterboarding her.” you lean forward, “We need to get them out.”

“We don’t have an opening for that, much less know where they’re keeping them--”

“The training center.” you say, “And I know how to get to them, I was a door away from them, Peeta and Johanna saw me.”

“That’s the heart of the Capitol.” Paylor says, “Even if we did get the volunteers to do it, we wouldn’t be able to go.”

You raise your eyebrows, “You’re telling me that Beetee hasn’t tried to hack into the security already? Didn’t he work on it for them? He would know some secret window at least.”

They share another look, and Lyme tilts her head, “She has a point.”

“And then what? You think anyone would actually want to go in?” Paylor asks, “It’s a suicide mission.”

“Listen to me,” you lean forward on the table now, they look at you, “I have two weeks--maybe not even that. If Snow finds out that I was lying or keeping information from him, he’s going to come for me and I’ll end up like Peeta, Johanna and Tanith. And if I don’t help the loyalists, he’s going to kill Tanith.

“I am working on a strict time frame, and you guys bickering about this, isn’t helping. Contact Alma Coin or whatever, at least present the idea, and if she likes it and asks for volunteers, you put me at the top of that fucking list. I will lead as many volunteers as she wants to the others. The only thing I ask in return is a free ride to District Thirteen.

“If Tanith is out of his hands, and I’m in thirteen, Snow can’t do anything to me.” you raise your eyebrows, “He won’t be able to use anyone as leverage anymore, and you’ve gained another foot in the rebellion. But all that can’t happen without you at least suggesting the idea to your supreme leader first.”

Lyme rubs her forehead for a moment, before saying; “Get Coin on a call.”

“Want to sit?” someone asks, pulling out a stool.

“Thanks.” you sit, crossing your legs.

You watch as they set up the entire call and as it pends. You spend most of the time fiddling with the hemming on the bottom of the shirt, ripping the stitching out, and then pulling on the string.

Paylor goes back to what she was saying with the map and all before you came inside. She writes down that she needs to add people to scout behind her lines, and then plans the ways that they can get into the tunnel. You want to chime in some way, but you keep out of it.

You can help as soon as Tanith is safe. You need to get Tanith out of the Capitol first, because if you’re even taped being around Lyme and Paylor with no argument going on or anything, you’re going to be fucked. Snow doesn’t have any morals, as much as he hates to admit it. He’s heartless.

“The call’s gone through.” the one by the computer says, “Plutarch’s answered.”

He projects it onto the large blank wall in front of you, but Paylor has to turn around to see him.

“Plutarch… Heavensbee? The gamemaker?” you ask, “Why?”

“He’s the one that helped organize getting them out.” Lyme tells you.

Plutarch has a smile on his face, “(Y/n), it’s nice to see you healthy.”

“You got Katniss, Finnick and Beetee out of the arena?” you ask.

Plutarch nods, “With the help of Haymitch, yes.”

“Fuck you.” you spit, “You fucking left me there! I was right there--you could have gotten me and you let me be taken by the Capitol! You’re the reason why the Capitol has had me for the past couple of weeks, you asshole--”

“Calm.” Lyme comes over, placing her hand on your shoulder, “You can yell at him later, keep on track.”

“Whatever.” you shrug her hand off, crossing your arms.

Paylor picks up where you didn’t start, “She’s been in the training center with the other tributes. She knows how to get to them, and we’d like to try and revisit the idea of a rescue mission with the tributes.”

His face says no, but his words say otherwise; “I wish it was my decision, but Coin has already decided that now isn’t the time. Especially not after we were just attacked by the Capitol.”

“When?” Lyme asks.

“A couple hours ago, we haven’t gone to the surface just yet to make sure that it’s over.”

Your mouth drops open a little bit, “I was on that hovercraft.”

Paylor nearly breaks her neck from how fast her head whips in your direction, “You were?”

“Yeah--I thought it was odd that the space was filled with… bombs. I was expecting them to attack two almost immediately after I hit the city, but they just flew off, away from the direction of the Capitol.” You shake your head, “Before you ask; no, I didn’t hear anything while I was in there.”

There’s a moment of silence, before Paylor sighs, “Where’s Coin?”

“Making sure the systems are still running, I sent someone to get her, so she should be here soon.”

“Good.” you slide off of the stool, “Because when she gets there, you’re going to do everything you can to convince her to consider the idea.”

Plutarch raises his eyebrows.

“She means--” Lyme tries.

“I mean what I said.” you lean against the table, staring at Plutarch’s face, “If you were just attacked, they’re going to be expecting some sort of retaliation. So, you attack their defense systems using Beetee’s knowledge. You get them down long enough, and that’s when the hovercraft slips through. Beetee stops, and then when the hovercraft is heading back, he starts again, or whatever.”

“That’s not exactly how things work…” someone in the corner mumbles.

“Well, they need to make it work.” you stand again, “Because I will be getting them all out of the training center. Even if I’m the only volunteer, I’ll do it.”

Plutarch laughs, “Not hellbent on killing them anymore?”

“They’re strapped to chairs being tortured like animals. Even I know when enough is enough.” you back off after that, “If I come back in here in an hour, and her answer is no, you better start fucking praying, because I am much worse than the Capitol.”

#ilguna #finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair metanoia #metanoia #metanoia chapter twelve

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trickstercheebs · 4 years

Note

⌘: for literally any of your fics! Love your writing!

⌘: being picked up OKAY this is for Borrower!Gordon verse.. gonna put it under a cut for length for you anon. (set sometime in the far future bc shhh)

It had been a long day, or...actually what day even was it anymore? Gordon had lost track of the days as what he felt like a minor headache had blown into something so much worse it felt like. The others in the house didn’t quite seem to notice since life for them had vaguely gone back to normal and their schedules had them scurrying about into the outside world once more.

He had taken refuge onto the deserted couch, the floor felt far too cold to even bother standing on it let alone move from one room to another. He felt like his skin was burning off, but the air itself felt like it’d freeze him to the core any minute...He knew he was sick now but..he was far too tired to even do anything about it anymore and he should of asked for help ages ago when he started to feel things get worse. The house felt empty..was anyone even here aside from him? Maybe this was lifes way of getting back at him for getting comfortable for once in his life..Maybe one of the others was home?

“H....hello? ...please.....please is anyone here...? he..lp.”

There was no reply..he wanted to curl up and try to sleep off whatever this was, the only thing on the couch he could use as a blanket was some forgotten shirt that was far too thin to even keep him warm.

But eventually sleep finally came, as fitful as it was. Tossing and turning he tried to stay asleep and escape his minute personal hell for however long he could.

Benry’s phone alarm had gone off and he woke up with a groggy stretch..Bed felt far too cosy to bother leaving..but his body was giving off a clear need for the bathroom that he couldnt ignore...Might as well get up and take care of business, then maybe grab some snacks and get back to bed.. Today felt like a lazy one.

A few minutes later Benry wandered into the living room, finding it oddly quiet..Must of been a work day? He mentally shrugged and moved to get to them fuckin snacks when a soft noise reached his ears..

It sounded like wet gasping and coughing? The only other person in the house at this time he knew of could of been....Gordon? Shit he hadn’t seen the lil guy in a while..He figured he was hanging out with Tommy or one of the others..Gordon rarely bugged him these days for...some reason. He knew the man wanted his freedom and would never question him..hell he had just gained the mans trust after that whole hellish introduction...He felt like he was on thin ice with Gordon every day..

But that noise had him walking over towards where he heard it come from, the couch. The noise’s source was a small bundled up shirt shivering in the corner, and Benry’s brain kicked itself into high gear.

It was obvious it was Gordon, but why? Was he hurt, sleeping, what? The only way he could figure out was to gently untangle Gordon from the shirt.

“Yoo..Gordon you feelin well down there bro? You kinda sound like shit....Gordon?”

By now Gordon would of told him that he was fine and skitter off to do god only knew what..It hurt knowing Gordon was likely still scared shitless of him just because of his size but...There was no way in hell Benry would ever hurt him...it had been a normal discussion with him and Tommy during late nights.. Gordon trusted Tommy with his life and Benry wanted nothing more than to be friends with the borrower.

“Just give him time! He’ll...come around eventually. I’m sure one day you two will be like uh...uhh the best of fuckin friends!”

That day could wait, if Gordon hated him for what he was about to do then....Well he’d live with it. Gordon was shivering so badly the couch faintly vibrated under Benrys hands..that was not fucking good at all. How long had he been sick?? Did any of the others know? He wasted no time in fishing out his phone and rapid firing off a few texts to Tommy to get some childrens flu medicine and some other things. He next send some questions to Dr. Coomer asking how much medicine to give to someone Gordons size once the whole group knew what was wrong.

He knew it’d be a bit before any of them responded, it was a busy day for them most likely and he’d have to wait..But Gordon still needed help. He had a idea but it’d like he thought earlier just make Gordon hate him more.

Ah well...a mad Gordon was better than the alternative.

“Alright bro...time to spend some quality time with Big Benry for a bit...gotta, gotta keep a eye on you till the homies get home with the medicine...I’ll take care of you Gordon..”

Reaching down he’s almost hesitant to even touch Gordon...but he powers through knowing it’s for the best and gently cups the shivering man in both hands before moving him. He’s forgotten how utterly small Gordon is compared to his hands, he fits so neatly in them Benry’s almost transfixed at the sight before him. A thumb gently runs across the side of Gordons sweat drenched face before he snaps out of it and remembers what he has to do.

“shit...right, right. Fuck I gotta focus.”

He moves back into the bathroom with Gordon in tow and grabs a washcloth before gently wiping his face and arms down with the warm water. It feels weirdly intimate in a way he’s not sure of but he persists until Gordon stops shivering as much, and he’s as clean as he can get without Benry crossing a line he’s not willing to cross.

Gordons dried off and carried back into Benry’s room in short order and he briefly wonders what to do next. He should just make a nest for the other and just check up on him...But he cant nor does he want to, Gordon still feels frigid as fuck in his hands and he feels like a small child waiting to be scolded for doing something wrong when all they wanted to do is help out.

He huffs and makes his choice, today was gonna be a bed day...just a bit different.

-----

Gordon woke up sometime later feeling warm, not just from the fever but he was surrounded by a comfortable warmth he never knew he wanted so damn badly until now, whatever he was wrapped up in was ungodly soft and smelled...strangely nice? Like some sort of herbs he didn’t know the name of. He felt comfortable for once and couldn’t help the urge to nuzzle and stretch himself out to get more comfortable...It was then he heard the second set of lungs so close nearby he froze on instinct. Was someone holding him? Right...one of the others must of came by and saw him in such a horrible state and lent a hand when he was passed out.

Wriggling about some to figure out which way was up he managed to poke his head out of the mess of blankets, only feeling a bit sad about leaving such a cosy sleeping spot, but felt his stomach bottom out when he recognized where he was.

He was in Benry’s room again....and in Benry’s bed to boot, looking about it only took him a second or two to spot the massive bean’s sleeping form..he was apparently nestled up to his chest in the massive quilt Benry slept under. Gordon was scared for a brief moment..He had been on the couch and drenched in sweat but..he didn’t feel as disgusting as he usually did when in such a state. Hell he felt somewhat clean?

Inspecting himself he found out the smell was coming from him, did Benry do this? He didn’t remember anything aside from just passing out and waking up here. Should he make a run for it..? Part of him, the fearful parts screamed yes...that Benry was a threat...but was he? Gordon had had several talks with Tommy about giving him a chance, that he wasn’t that bad of a person.

Benry had taken care of him when he was at his most vulnerable.....again. And now here he was dead asleep in the arms of the so called enemy. Then why did he feel like just going back to sleep alongside him for a bit longer? As he thought things through, he looked Benry’s sleeping form over...he looked oddly peaceful, maybe something else but the shadows took up more than they showed.

“...alright Tommy...I’ll give him a chance.”

Yawning softly he turned to burrow back into the sheets and nestling up back into his spot in the crook of Benry’s arm and letting the warmth lull him back to sleep once more.

Benry cracked a eye once he felt Gordon sneak back under the covers and had to resist the urge to sob with joy. Goddamn he owed Tommy so many fucking kisses after this...It paid off just laying in bed and pretending to sleep the moment he felt Gordon stir...He felt so exhausted just staying still that the urge to sleep too was overpowering...

He could sleep when Tommy got home soon, but for now he’d happily keep Gordon warm and safe.

#cheebs writes #hlvrai #benry #hlvrai gordon freeman #Anonymous

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fiction-in-my-blood · 4 years

Text

The Bewitching Hour Part 1 (SITS Smut) Kyohei x MC

I’m thinking of turning this into a series with all the guys in it, so if you enjoy, stay tuned :)!

Warnings: Fingering, Sex

~~~~~~

Work had been trouble lately. Not only was the ghostwriter severely struggling with doing her own job, a lot of the Revance members were on edge because of it. Takashi’s Demon Mode had been making more frequent appearances and many worried for their own safety, few also worrying for the only woman in the house. Not only that, The morning the producer woke up, there was a stranger in their kitchen.

“Who the hell are you and how did ya get in my house?” Kyohei roared at the half naked, rejectfully majestic man that stood at his fridge, peering at the contents like they were going to put themselves together for his breakfast. The man didn’t seem much phased by the shock of one of the inhabitants of the house that wasn’t his, he found it amusing, that showed on the smirky, mysterious grin that appeared on his face when he turned around.

“Hey, man, don’t worry about it, I spent the night.” The admission did nothing to ease Sir Kyo’s suspicion, instead making him more pissed off in the early hour. No one would be a morning person if this is what they had to deal with first thing.

However, before he could argue, demanding him to explain, a high whine came from the far end of the room. “Mitsu~, I told you not to come down until I was ready.” The strangely provacative yet shy call of the young woman, merely dressed in an overbearing sweater and shorts, hair a mess after the activities she had partaken in the past night, shocked the other resident.

“But, my dear, you were taking too long. I was getting a different type of hungry.” The man, surely older than her but a gentlemanly youth about him, cooed, a teasing smirk forming on his lips as he remembered what he had been hungry for only a few hours before this conversation. Masami blushed.

“They call it a walk of shame for a reason, Mistu. Get your stuff before anyone else wakes up.” She crossed her arms in defiance, the brunt of her configuration halted by the notebook she held in one hand. Kyohei recognised it as her writing journal.

“Okay, I guess I can get dressed. Unless you want to keep something for future uses?” The man with fair hair long enough to be pulled back into a long pontail sauntered over to the ghostwriter, leaning over her to steal her lips. Before he could catch them, however, he was blocked by a wad of paper.

“No kissing, Mitsu. It’s in the agreement.” She sighed, almost exhausted with having to remind him all the time. The roll of her innocent eyes didn’t go unnoticed by the slightly distracted producer.

“Hello. What the hell is going on here?” A little pissed with having such a rude introduction, Kyohei made himself known to the couple. The fact he would soon learn about some of her stress relieving habits brought a blush to Masami’s cheeks, trying to hide them with her hand as Mitsu chuckled to himself beside her.

“I-I have those lyrics done, Kyohei. Read through them when you’re ready!” The ball of red quickly made her exit after slapping her notebook on the coffee table in the living area. Mitsu couldn’t help but enjoy the sight Kyohei would usually also be happy to see.

“There’s nothing to fear, sir. Just a trade in professions. You may like the use my services too one day.” With the way Mitsu’s been acting in this extraordinary scenario, Kyohei couldn’t tell what he was suggesting. What was this man’s profession and what did it have to do with Masami?

“If you’d like to see my portfolio, I’d love to comission if you find it desirable.” Only now did Kyohei spot the large art pad held to Mitsu’s body with his arm as he continued to rest his hands in his pockets.

“You’re an artist?” Kyohei, significantly cooled compared to moments ago, grew slightly curious to the man’s offer.

“And Miss Mami is my muse, and I her’s. We arranged it years ago.” The nickname rolled off with such ease it showed how close the two must be. Kyohei almost felt jealous just talking to the man.

“Show me.” He demanded, wanting more to see what had impressed the girl so much to have the obvious relationship they had together. This made that mirthful chuckle reverberate from Mitsu’s chest once again. Despite the clear irritation on the producer’s face, he placed his sketchpad on the kitchen counter and opened it up. Kyohei’s eyes went wide at the images before him.

Pages upon pages of naked women, mostly Masami, framed in comprimising positions, always a lewd look in their eyes. The drawings seemed so realistic, Kyohei almost felt like he was there when it was created, even if they were just sketches- mainly black and white. The one that really caught his eye was the masterpiece on the back page. It was Masami, on her back with her knees pressed to her chest, feet up and vulva on full display. He looked away, an intolerant blush surfacing on his cheeks.

“I’ll say, my most recent piece is my favourite. Masami surely was in her creative flow last night.” A look of pure pride overtook what his usual expression seemed to be as he gazed upon the picture of his business partner. She seemed too innocent most of the time, it was only Mitsu who ever got to see this side of her.

“Creative flow?” Kyohei was drawn by the odd explanation for such a drawing, his gaze following the man as he ripped the page out with little regard to his other pieces.

“You don’t know of her Bewitching Hour? And how long has she lived here?” A tone of pity mixed with amusement filtered out of his mouth as he placed the sheet of paper on the counter before closing his book once again.

“Like any woman, Masami is a powerful being. Sometimes her talent gets too much for her and she can’t seem to let it out at all. She gets so pent up sometimes, I’m man enough to admit even I can’t satiate her creativity.” Mitsu laughed on the memory of an irritated Masami climbing off his lap with a heavy sigh of not being able to pleasure herself with his body. He didn’t mind, he had those nights too, it was the joy of their agreement that made him so confident in his abilities.

“But what’s a Bewitching Hour?” Kyohei was beyong interest by now. For months he had wanted to her his hands on the innocent cutie that lived under his roof. This might finally be his chance.

“It’s just my term for it. She does her best work, in the bedroom and in her songs, at night. The only way she can filter her ideas is in the act, as one would say. On nights I can’t get to her, she’ll desperately play piano. I’ve never heard it myself, but I’m sure its beautiful.” A mesmerised look drifts into Mitsu’s eyes as he imagines all the dirty scenarios he could get into if he could just catch her off guard in one of her musical trances.

“Remember, if you ever hear music in the dead of night, the Bewitching Hour has begun.”

~~~~~~

Several days after the mysterious and mature artist escaped the Revance home without being spotted by any other members, Kyohei has gotten very little sleep. Mostly from anticipation to hear any type of tune drifting through the halls and some due to the thoughts that clouded his brain. How would he initiate such an occasion? Were her trances even a thing? Would it be right to take advantage of that to experience the feelings he’s been waiting so long to feel? Maybe yes, maybe no. It all depended on her, really. If he showed up, made himself known, and she just happened to jump on him, he wouldn’t stop her. Even if she needed a little coaxing, he would be happy to take the place of her muse if for a night. He just wanted to encounter what he had heard, and seen in still images, was so magical.

Then, on one fateful night, a jolly tune bounced in the distance and Kyohei shot up in bed. Where or who it was coming from didn’t matter as long as who it was he hoped it would be. He grabbed a shirt just in case this didn’t turn out how he had hoped and stormed out the door.

In the hallways, following the strangely enticing sound to what must have been from the recording studio, the darkness and tune was a little eery. It was upbeat and fun, but the emptiness of the halls and the hyperawareness that everyone was asleep made a suspicious shiver run up Kyohei’s spine. Please, please don’t let this be Takashi.

Sure enough, through the door that was standing open, was a risquely dressed woman, her fingers jumping along the keys of the keyboard in their in-home recording studio. She was in her pyjamas, a worn tank top that must have been from her teenage years from the cute character on the front and shorts of a different design but just as old. Her hair was up in a rushed bun, sagging to the side when she tilted her head in frustration. Her ideas weren’t flowing the way she wanted them to and Mitsu was in Osaka for an art showing. She had no other outlets.

Except for the man that now stood directly behind her. She didn’t notice him at first, too wound up in her musical whimsy until she felt a warm pressure on her shoulders. She jumped, the electric instrument groaning with a clatter of keys as her fingers slammed down at the unexpected sensation.

“So tense. You need to relax if you want to get your work done in time not to get punished.” A tone she was all too used to breathed on her ear as Kyohei leaned over head, the feeling of his erection pressing into her back. Not that she could feel it, she was too stunned as to why he was here and too busy trying to bay her urges. No matter who it was, she would go for anyone in this state. Before she had met Mitsu, she would go on the prowl in less that suitable establishments, usually mistaken for a prostitute, even though she was the most dressed person on the whole block. Although, it didn’t matter to her, she usually got what she needed.

“Help me then.” The demanding tone spurred Kyohei on, the stern look making him chuckle. She looked as frustrated as Mitsu had made her sound and that led him to believed that this could happen. That he could get what he want. What they both wanted- for whatever different reasons.

Slowly but directly, Kyohei’s fingers from one hand drifted over her bare skin, along her collarbone and arond her neck, making her look up at him by tugging lightly on it. From some of the sketches in Mitsu’s book, she liked and was a frequent user of positions like these. Masami gulped at the heat that suddenly flooded in her.

With that slightly startled but so heavily lustful look in her eyes, Kyohei continued, inching his other hand down her chest and under her top. She moaned the second he tweaked her nipple. Both of their hearts raced at this less than innocent act taking place in such a common area of their home. Masami didn’t think about it, too caught up in trying to filter through the words flying around in her head, but Kyohei was metaphorically shitting bricks. If someone came in, would it be his fault? Would she get angry? The sound of a whimper pulled him out of those thoughts though.

“K-Kyohei, ca-can you... Can you finger me?” The forwardness of Masami’s words and the pleading look in her eyes as he held her face up to meet his gaze caused a shot of arousal to fire through Kyohei’s body and he wasted very little time in pulling her up. He quickly looked around for a surface to lay her on, but there was only the couch and the office chair that didn’t have any important equipment on it, so he pushed her onto the ground, laying her legs over his as he leant over to her. His hand was no longer around her neck, instead both were either side of her head, holding himself up over her.

With her hair sprawled out around her, pale wrists settled close to were his hands were, eyes slightly wide at seeing him in this position and cheeks flushed with desperate but embarrassed need, Kyohei had never been more turned on by any other woman. Masami wasn’t anything special. She didn’t have the ‘perfect’ body or have the greatest make-up skills. She was slow and at times absent-minded, just like right now, she seemed to be concentrating on something else and Kyohei didn’t know that this was what she was usually like in the moment. She was concentrating on her lyrics.

But Kyohei didn’t want that. He wanted all thoughts on him.

So, sitting back onto his heels, he focused all of his attention to her lower half. Palms falling on her knees, which only now had he realised were slightly bruised and was sure they were from the last time she had done something like this, his hands crept up her legs. The warm sensation on her body, chilled by the cold room and limited clothing, sent an excited shiver through her- dispersing any thoughts of music to the side, just for now, just so something could make sense. There was Kyohei Rikudoh, having her straddle him while she was on her back, making his way to her nether region with a look that seemed a little too excited.

But, Masami didn’t have time to think that fact over as she felt some sort of pressure on her clit. She gasped out a moan as she looked down to see Kyohei’s thumb disappearing underneath the fabric of her shorts. The motions on her fastened the more she moaned but the second she got a little louder, it was gone.

But only for a moment. Masami was about to complain before she felt that same digit enter her fully. Although shorter and thinner than some men she’s had, Kyohei’s thumb worked wonders on the nerves that were building up in that area and the nerves that had been in her head for the past few hours. He enjoyed the silent gasping as he pressed in different directions before slipping out and replacing it with his middle finger, once again seeing that short burst of annoyance before her lips parted to take in enough air to remind herself to breath. He wanted so badly to trap those plump things under his, exploring her mouth like it was the Mariana Trench, so, he leaned in.

“No.” A muffled call escaped Masami’s lips as she covered them with her hand, protecting herself from his advances. He stopped his thrusting fingers, wondering if he had hurt her, but she shook her head.

“N-Not on the lips.” She stuttered, the darkest blush she’s had tonight ligthening her face as she kept her hand there. Kyohei was slightly confused, his brows frowning at the strange demand. She would let him fuck her, but she wouldn’t let him kiss her? Well, he knew she was strange, but he didn’t believe it when she had reprimanded Mitsu. He thought it was just because he was there.

“I-If that’s gonna be an issue for you...” Masami led off as she sat up, inched herself away the best she could to keep the distance away from their faces and his fingers, which he hadn’t realised where still in her, slipped out. She bit back a moan at that, too embarrassed and scared to have annoyed him to make a noise.

“No, it’s fine. I’m not going to force you.” Kyohei smirked, wanting this more than he wanted to exercise each of his fantasifull whims. Masami’s shoulders eased at that and her gaze wondered down his body.

“Oh?” She muttered at the tent she saw pitched in his shorts. They were loose and thin, something like basketball wear, so she could definitely tell most of that height wasn’t material. She was in for a treat tonight.

With the tilt of her head, she reached forward, pulling down his waist band and helping his cock escape before he could say a word. To his surprise, he panicked as she grabbed it with such gentle fingers his hands flew behind him to keep himself upright. As her knees weren’t hooked over his anymore, she could sit on her own legs as Kyohei’s crossed his in front of him.

Masami knew what she was doing, she had a routine. Something she knew worked every other time she had done this act with someone new, so, she leaned forward and kissed the tip of his dick before licking it.

“You’re rather forward, huh?” Kyohei tried to regain his usual composure as the petite woman before him hardened him so suddenly he worried there’d be no blood left in his skull. She looked up at that incredulous smirk and couldn’t help but blush as she realised what she was doing.

“I want this.” She replied bluntly, not blaming herself for her less than ordinary ways to relieve stress. She licked him one last time before she brought her lips right next to his ear, careful not to let go of his cock. “So, will you fuck me now, Sir Kyo?”

Her questioning tone was almost innocent if not for the words that spilled out of her mouth so easily. Kyohei felt something come over him, an all too familiar feeling of lust, and he pushed her back by her shoulders onto the floor where she had been moments ago. He pulled her shorts and panties off, all in one go, and threw them behind him without much care as to where they ended up.

“You came prepared?” Masami frowned her brows at the condom Kyohei pulled out of his pocket. She wasn’t mad, she was happy he had one, but it did confuse her. She didn’t really know he was aware of her trances.

“Always am, Miss Mami~.” Kyohei’s teasing tone, mimicking the voice of her usual muse, made the girl blush, covering her frown with the back of her hand as she laid there, waiting patiently. She looked too cute for what he was about to do to her.

“Shut up and help me.” She grumbled, reminding him why they were here in the first place, and Kyohei couldn’t help but chuckle. The two stayed in their separate states until Kyohei sharply entered her.

Both mind’s turned into a pleasured fog that distracted either side of this couple from the outside world. Not that anything was happening that they would need to look out for, everyone was asleep and Kyohei hade the foresight to close the door. This allowed them, mostly Masami, to moan to their heart’s content. She clutched the top that fluttered over her as Kyohei towered over, holding himself up with one hand and her right thigh with the other.

“K-Kyohei.” She gasped out, eyes half-lidded as she looked up at him as his hand massaged that part of her leg, waiting for her to be comfortable enough for him to move. He seemed pushy, but he did care, being the secretly thoughtful guy he was. The sound of his name told the producer he could start thrusting.

“You’re so tight.” He grunted as those movements pulled him out of the short but sweet trance he found himself in as he watched the young woman writhe beneath him distracted him from the tightness of her. How could a woman said to be so risque and ravaging seem so virginal?

“Y-You’re just big.” The comment made her blush and she pouted, momentarily preoccupied from the heavenly sensation slowly grinding into her.

“Don’t frown like that. I’m sure you’ve dreamt about this, haven’t you?” He drew even closer to her once again, propped on his elbows as he continued to thrust in and out of her, one hand holding her cheek. He was careful not to make it seem like he would try to kiss her.

The smugness of his tone and sudden hard pound of his hips made Masami’s hands fly down his torso to grip the skin of his behind, hoping it would spur him onto giving her more of that much needed pleasure. “K-Kyohei.” Her ideas were finally organising themselves. She was so close. All she needed was a little encouragement.

“Go on. Scream my name. I know you want to.” Even though his own breathing started to hasten, his heart racing and his words sometimes tripping over themselves, Kyohei tried to seem as cool as he usually was. But, the clawing feeling on his lower back and arching of her’s, pressing their bodies even closer together was just so erotic, he found his own thoughts becoming jumbled. There was so much he wanted to say, so many dirty things he wanted to whisper in her ear to make her blush harder, to stutter his name more, he couldn’t understand any of the words that threatened to spill out of his mouth. Something about loving something, but the shriek of the woman below him pulled his thoughts away from that strange sensation.

“K-Kyohei!” Arms flying up his body and around his neck, pulling him closer and her up so he could snake an arm around her, holding their bodies flush together, Masami couldn’t hold back anymore.

“More. Please. I need so much more!” She whimpered in his ear and he only just realised his thrusts had slowed while he was thinking. Then, one thought made sense. Flipping them over so he was on his back and Masami was sitting on his lap, his cock buried so deep inside her she was sure she must have been hollowed out by him, Kyohei smirked.

“Go on, do it yourself. Use me to inspire you.” Sitting, holding each other, his hand clutching the back of her hair so he could whisper in her ear without risk of her pulling back, Kyohei pulled as much out of her as he could. Albeit the ground prohibitted most of his movement. When he loosened his grip, Masami sat up, looking at him with another one of her cutely questioning expressions.

“How do you- Oh!” Masami gasped as he pushed her hips down, mainly to distract her from her question and also to pleasure himself. Her hands once again clenched the fabric on his chest and she subconsciously started bouncing up and down, the sound of skin hitting skin sounding between them. Heavy breathing, moans of each other’s names, and the smell of hot, sweaty sex filled the room. It was lucky they had good ventilation in here.

It didn’t take much longer for either to finish, coincidentally at the same time, and when they both felt each other’s releases, Masami collasped forward, landing on Kyohei’s chest with a soft thud. She was panting, her thighs aching slightly from the exercise, and Kyohei chuckled, his arms sprawled out either side of him. The two finally had a moment of silence...

...Until Masami jumped up, his penis sliding out of her but she didn’t seem to care much, and yanked her journal from the table she had been struggling over before he showed up. As if this hadn’t just happened, as if one of the most sort of bachelors at the moment wasn’t laying half-naked on the floor behind her, Masami started working. She started pouring her heart out onto the pages in front of her, making quick work of the song she had been struggling with for the past day and a half.

It couldn’t be hidden, Kyohei was a little pissed. He had just had one of the most amazing sex sessions he had ever experiences, and she was still able to make it to the desk chair and write? So, he got up, meaning to turn her around and pound her against that journal that seemed to occupy her thoughts, when she met his stern gaze with a delighted smile. He only now saw the slightly darkened rings under her eyes and, despite that, she still looked adorable.

“Thanks, Kyohei, you were a big help!” Masami cheered, slapping her book shut and standing up, only to find the two much closer than she had anticipated. Both their lower halves were completely on show, but she couldn’t let herself look down. She was beat but, most of all, she was able to write. She had been able to accompish what she set out to do.

Kyohei just chuckled at his own stupidity. He should have understood what Mitsu meant when she really did just use his body to satiate her creativity. This was just a trade in professions, a transferable muse and a writer, nothing more, nothing less.

“Call me if you need anymore help.” He winked, his smug smirk returning to his face as Masami blushed at the offer, turning to find her shorts, throwing them on and running out the door so she could finally get some much needed sleep. What neither of them had realised was the pair of panties, tucked behind a filing cabinet after Kyohei had carelessly thrown them over his shoulder.

#scandel in the spotlight #kyohei rikudoh #sits #voltage games #voltage fanfic #voltage smut

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wholesomeklei · 4 years

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Japan Sinks: 2020 freaking sucked, but in a way that was almost good, which is arguably even more frustrating than it being straight-up awful. Like, there was this good show struggling to get out, but it just couldn’t quite break free of all the crap. Sorry, has to get that off my chest. I’m done now.

...Never mind, I’m not done. Spoilers below the cut.

Here’s a list of my major grievances with the series (there are more, but this got kind of long):

There was almost no chemistry between the characters. A lot of the story centers around this family and a handful of tagalongs, but you hardly get the sense that they care about each other at all. Emotional crises about character death (of which there is a LOT; more on that later) go barely-addressed, if they indeed happen at all. One of the earliest deaths involves the father getting literally blown to bits in front of his family, and then they skip ahead to them moving on in the next episode. The only one who still seems even remotely upset is the teenage girl. Not even the little boy seems bothered; I don’t think I can remember him crying a single time in the entire series. I get what they were TRYING to go for - the mother is upset, but she’s trying to stay strong for her children because she knows that stopping to mourn could get them killed - but instead it just comes across as all of the characters being robots except for the teenager. I think one of the problems was that there’s not much depth of emotion in the facial expressions. Almost nothing is expressed through animation that isn’t expressed in words, so if the characters aren’t talking about how sad they are, you have no idea. Another character dies pretty unceremoniously in a way that’s clearly intended to make the teenager feel guilty despite her not technically being responsible, but they just leave her body behind, and she’s practically never brought up again. Speaking of...

There aren’t any long-term consequences for any of the things they build up. Early on, the teenage girl offers to share some of her water with an elderly couple, who proceed to take the whole bottle. It was a really good, realistic scene, and it leaves you thinking, “Shit, that’s gonna come back to bite them in the ass later!” and it never does. They find more water almost immediately. Additionally, throughout the series, there’s also this looming threat posed by a cut on the teenage girl’s leg that’s clearly becoming more and more infected over time - the camera is constantly lingering on this injury like it’s gonna be a big deal - and it doesn’t become a real issue until after they’re rescued. And even then, you think you’re in for some real emotional drama when the doctor says they have to amputate - the teenager is a relay racer, so losing her leg is a big fucking deal - but the next time you see her, we’ve already skipped ahead to the part where she’s running relay races with a prosthetic. Like, that’s great and all, but come ON! You spent the WHOLE SERIES building to this, and you can’t spare a couple minutes to let us feel anything?

We get almost zero insight into the backgrounds of most of the characters. Like, we already know most of the family’s deal from their introductions in episode 1, but then they give us all these tagalongs who seem like they COULD be interesting people (an older girl who seems to be a friend of the family, a stoic former athlete, a paragliding Youtuber, an old man who does archery, and an obnoxious magician), but they almost never expand on any of it! The older girl? She dies unceremoniously and is mentioned maybe one time after that a few episodes later. The stoic former athlete? He finally breaks down in tears at one point about how he watched his mother die in front of him only for the rest of these seemingly heartless assholes to continue on with their dinnertime conversation without giving this dude so much as a comforting pat on the shoulder. The Youtuber? It’s briefly hinted at the end that he’s a trans guy in a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment of his younger self in a skirt (from a distance, so it’s hard to notice) with longer hair, but other than that, we have almost no insight into who he is as a person, what got him interested in flying and Youtube, etc. Speaking of which...

The Youtuber is basically a living deus ex machina who exists only to occasionally disappear and inexplicably reappear with no explanation and some supplies to save the day. His habit of constantly saving the day combined with the fact that in a cast of characters with realistic hair colors, he’s the only one whose hair is white (and it seems to be natural, not dye; his younger self also has white hair, and at no point in the series do his roots start to show) makes him feel more like somebody’s self-insert OC than a real person. He even pulls a heroic sacrifice to save the characters at the end only to mysteriously wind up alive in the stadium to watch the teenage girl do relay post-amputation with zero explanation. Like, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad the trans guy survived to the end, but could you please tell us HOW?

The time that could have been spent on character development is instead spent on a pointless cult subplot that lasts way too many episodes, accomplishes almost nothing except letting us trade in the racist archery grandpa and the annoying magician for the paralyzed savant who saw the disaster coming (again, these brief character descriptions make them sound much more interesting than they ultimately wind up being). In yet another plot point with lots of build-up and no follow-through, we wind up in a peaceful, too-good-to-be-true cult where they put weed in everything and worship a lady claiming to be able to speak with the dead. Are they using the drugs to manipulate people? Is this some kind of cannibal cult where they use pot to cover up the taste of people? Nope! The twist is that the cult was genuinely a nice place, the leader’s powers are 100% real, and the drug stuff is completely inconsequential. The final episode of this arc winds up being unintentionally hilarious as a bunch of characters get killed off in ways that are either overly anime for what was previously a relatively grounded show, or die in a realistic manner that’s nonetheless animated in a way that makes it completely hilarious. I literally laughed out at the death of the cult leader’s child. Like, I understood it was SUPPOSED to be sad, but it’s just so sudden that it winds up being hilarious. One minute he’s standing there, and the next, BONK! Death by ceiling chunk to the head. (This is why most deaths by crushing/impact from above tend to be animated in a way that obscures the character’s face, BTW.)

There are too many character deaths. There’s a big difference between “anyone CAN die” and “almost everyone WILL die.” The first creates genuine tension, because you truly never know whether or not a character will survive a dangerous situation. Allowing you to feel hope that a character could pull through makes it all the more impactful if they don’t. Unfortunately, Japan Sinks: 2020 goes too far by practically killing off one character an episode, which winds up ruining the tension by ensuring that you never get attached to these characters (which you were already struggling to get attached to due to their complete lack of emotion). Dangerous situations are no longer tense because you already know from the time the character enters them that they’re probably gonna die. (Unless they’re the Youtuber guy, in which case a nuclear bomb could go off, and they’d just reappear two episodes later with no explanation.)

The show just doesn’t know what it wants to be. It starts out really grounded and realistic, and it leads you to believe that this is going to be something truly incredible, but after about four episodes, you start to realize that this is just The Walking Dead without zombies. Worst of all, it’s Telltale’s Walking Dead (the sequels, not the first one) where almost none of the choices the characters make actually matter. They try really hard to salvage it at the end, and it NEARLY works. Episode 8 (where they’re stuck in a life raft without any food or water for the first half) was almost worth the previous 7, but it’s just not enough. You still know exactly when characters are gonna die, and it’s too late to get invested.

#I'm not sticking this in the tags because everyone in there is talking about how great it is and I don't want to be a Debbie Downer #I just needed to rant somewhere #I tried so hard to like it #I really wanted it to be good

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snowbellewells · 4 years

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Self Promo Sunday: Into the Unknown with You

Good morning all! Here’s a little alternate take on what could have happened in 6x11 as Emma looked for another way home. I wrote all but some of the last scene before the midseason premiere of 6B, and when I didn’t get it finished before then, I debated even posting this, but I decided I wanted to anyway. I’ve come to be even fonder of it since then, so I hope that someone finds a bit of enjoyment in it! Clearly I don’t own them, as I would sometimes have had wildly different things happen (particularly in this stretch of episodes).

One more Author’s Note: The “awfully big adventure” bit is a tiny nod to J.M. Barrie’s Peter Pan.

On AO3 On ff.net

“Into the Unknown with You”

by: @snowbellewells

‘No, no, no!’ Emma’s mind reeled horrifically as she stared at the spot where only moments ago the portal had been whirling, her way home to her son and her pirate wide open. She wanted to scream; it couldn’t just be gone, and yet, a second too much hesitation, and the chance was lost. She looked at Regina anxiously, her fists clenched so tightly she felt the impressions her nails cut into her palms. It was all she could do not to rail at the older woman, this whole twisted world, and her own bad luck.

‘What now?’ she wanted to demand, wanted to shake her former nemesis turned tentative friend. However, one glimpse at the other woman’s stunned, disbelieving face staring across the shoreline at her presumed dead True Love, and Emma knew it would be a lost cause. Having stood beside a grave in grateful stupefaction at her own love’s miraculous return to life not so long ago, Emma couldn’t find the heart just yet to hurry Regina along or to remind her that she had spent the last day preaching how none of their surroundings or those they encountered in the Wish Realm were real. She too found herself blinking dazedly at this other – very convincing – version of Robin Hood for a few moments.

She tried to shrug it off nonchalantly, not wanting to get them kicked out in the cold, or to lay blame on him for something he couldn’t have known, but instead, to her own mortification, she felt hot tears stinging in the corners of her eyes. Though her sight grew glassy, Emma refused to let them fall. “So,” she tried for flippant, even if it fell horribly flat, “does that mean you know where we could find a replacement bean and want to help us get it?”

“Actually, your Highness,” Robin winked, a knowing sort of mischief in his eye, “I just might.”

~~~OuaT~~~~~CS~~~~~OuaT~~~

“The harbor?” Emma asked breathlessly, dazed for a moment by what this could mean. Her heartbeat kicked up in both anticipation and dread. Surely he wasn’t here too…was he?

~~~OuaT~~~~~CS~~~~~OuaT~~~

“There’s another me?” he breathed, and where anyone else would have been skeptical, he looked merely stunned, wanting. “And…we’re…together?”

Her captain’s eyes fell to their joined hand and hook in his lap, huffing out a laugh at her words. “More so than I, I’d wager,” he murmured.

“Thank you,” was all she could really say in response, her wondering smile nearly blinding him with its brilliance.

“Come then,” he offered her his arm, his speech all business again, even while the pointed tips of his ears flushed, clearly uncomfortable with the gratitude and praise. “Above deck, and we’ll be off. I know someone who deals in nigh impossible to procure objects.”

~~~OuaT~~~~~CS~~~~~OuaT~~~

Tagging a few who might enjoy this: @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @searchingwardrobes @whimsicallyenchantedrose @tiganasummertree @spartanguard @thislassishooked @therooksshiningknight @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @resident-of-storybrooke @let-it-raines @ineffablecolors @optomisticgirl @shireness-says @snidgetsafan @profdanglaisstuff @thisonesatellite @mayquita @ohmightydevviepuu @revanmeetra87 @teamhook @darkcolinodonorgasm @gingerchangeling @blackwidownat2814 @nikkiemms @kday426 @hollyethecurious @seriouslyhooked @ohmakemeahercules

#self promo sunday #cs one shot ff #cs 6x11 divergent ff #ouat 6x11 fix it fic #ouat 6b one shot #into the unknown with you

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imyourliquor-youremypoison · 5 years

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A Girl’s Best Friend (Peter Parker x OC) - Part 4

Synopsis: Diamonds are man’s best friend- or dogs are girls’ best friends, wait… how does the saying go again?

Warnings: Family issues; Peter has a crush and it’s complicated; mention of assault; good dogs; College AU; aged up! characters; TONY STARK IS ALIVE AND WE ALL LIVE IN A HAPPY PLACE CALLED DENIAL

A/N: In this story, Peter has Tom’s dog, Tessa.The dogs in the story play a minor but key role.

Word count: 2.8k

Part 3 <<< >>> Part 5

MASTERLIST

Peter had had an entire argument, from start to finish, with himself over whether or not to do what he was currently doing, and he wasn’t too sure who won in the end, but the fact remained that he was now climbing down the side of Emmeline Gerard’s building to get to her balcony, and possibly scare her to death.

He knew it wasn’t his most brilliant idea – it wasn’t even a good idea – but he didn’t know how else to hear from her. He had met her now, as himself, and not just Spider-Man. He technically could have asked her if she was alright, but that wouldn’t have worked. Most people don’t just confide to near strangers. She had had a longer conversation with Tessa than him after all.

And why would he ask her that? He wasn’t supposed to know anything happened to her. It would make her suspicious. It would maybe scare her off and she would never speak to him again.

Peter didn’t want that. Peter wanted to sit next to her in class once he grew the courage, and he wanted to ask her if she’d like to have lunch some time.

Instead, he was hanging outside her window, watching her read on her couch, legs tucked under her, Bella lying on her back next to her, foot twitching in that way it did when a dog was dreaming.

He knocked on the window and she frowned, looking at the front door. He knocked again, seeing her look at the window this time and dropping her book in surprise, slamming a hand over her chest.

She got up, Bella in her wake - she woke up when the young woman cursed loudly upon seeing Spider-Man outside her twenty-second-floor window.

“What in the goddamn hell are you doing here?” she hissed in a whisper as she slid open the window and stepped onto her balcony.

Bella, who must have remembered him as being there when her mistress had been attacked, growled until Emmeline shooed her off, approaching from the dangling silhouette.

Peter expected a warmer welcome but then again, he was technically trespassing, so…

He let go of the web and landed on the tiled balcony, standing up slightly taller than her. She wore blue slippers with fluffy pom-poms, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“Just checking in,” he told her.

Emmeline stepped back. He had caught her in a moment of relaxation at home, she was wearing sweatpants and probably no bra and stiffly held her robe closed over her chest. When he said that, she looked taken aback.

“Oh.” She seemed to realize she had just verbally attacked her savior for no reason at all and embarrassment tainted her cheeks. “Sorry, I just didn’t expect-“

“It’s nothing,” Peter assured her. “I’d freak out too if a dude wearing tights hung outside my window upside down.”

“Glad we agree on that.” She nodded with a little smile. “So, uhm, I’m fine. Thank you again for what you did.”

“Are you sure?”

Emmeline stared at her feet and wiggled her toes inside her slippers.

“I- yeah, yeah I’m good. Nothing happened in the end, you came before…” She couldn’t finish the sentence. “I’m not gonna talk to you about my problems, that’s what therapists are for and surely you’ve got more important things to do than listen to me.”

“I just finished my day.” He shrugged, deciding to sit in one of the iron chairs around the small round table that stood on the balcony. “I have nothing else to do.”

“It’s almost midnight, sleeping would be a better activity.”

“I have my morning off, I’ll sleep in to catch up,” he countered.

“I don’t, I have class in the morning.”

“You weren’t sleeping when I arrived,” he argued, watching her narrow her eyes at him.

“Don’t play smarty pants with me. Just because you saved me doesn’t mean I’ll treat you any different than other men.”

“Ouch!” Peter clutched at his heart but stood up still. If she didn’t want to talk, then she didn’t want to talk. “I’ll leave you alone if you do me a favor: talk about what happened to someone. A friend.”

“Blackmailing me, are we?” She raised a brow and clicked her tongue inside her cheek. “Fine. But I decide when I’m ready to talk about it. No time limits.”

“No time limits.” Peter shot his web upwards to climb up again. “By the way, Bella doesn’t count.”

Then he disappeared, right when he saw her open her mouth to argue.

Ned gaped at his friend when on Monday, in their Introduction to Mechanics and Biomechanics lecture, Emmeline smiled and waved at Peter. Both of them looked behind them to see who she was smiling at but saw no one. It really was for Peter!

“What was that? Since when do you know her?” Ned questioned, watching Peter smile back like a total goof and wave slowly as if he couldn’t believe she noticed him. “Didn’t she yell at you’re the last time you looked her way?”

“Ugh, I guess you could say we turned the page,” Peter said with an enigmatic smile and a shrug. “We had a chance encourage this Friday.”

He ended up explaining everything to Ned since he kept insisting on getting all the juicy details because “wow Peter, this is major! You’re finally on speaking terms with the girl you’ve been pining after since Freshman year”.

“I haven’t been-“ he started to deny then saw the look Ned was giving him. “Fine, I may have noticed her, but it’s nothing crazy, I’m not forgetting myself whenever we’re in the same room. You’re always making me sound so lame, dude.”

“That’s because you are. Like, no offense, I say this with the utmost respect, but you’re a hopeless romantic and all your brain cells drop dead whenever she looks at you.”

“They most certainly do not!” he objected, sounding so much like Tony that he had to take a second and reflect on his life.

“Sure,” Ned said, clearly not believing a word of it. Then he proceeded to mimic the way Peter had waved at Emmeline, dumb smile and all.

“Okay, yeah, maybe I get a little awkward around her, but who doesn’t? Even teachers get all fidgety when she speaks in class.”

It didn’t happen often because she rarely raised her hand, but he really had seen grown adults get nervous around her. Of course, back then, he didn’t know she was the mayor’s daughter. Neither did Ned. He didn’t share a lot of classes with Ned, they had chosen different specialties.

“That’s because she’s the mayor’s daughter, they all think she can get them fired if they say something wrong,” Ned told Peter. “And the biochem teacher doesn’t do that. She gives zero craps about your girlfriend’s pedigree.”

“She’s not my-“ Peter groaned and threw his head back, closing his fists in frustration. “Forget it. You’re right, I’m the lamest guy in this whole city, and we’ll probably never move past speaking terms, so can we drop the subject now?”

Ned hadn’t meant to upset Peter, but the truth in what he had said stung all the same. She was the mayor’s daughter, she was out-of-this-world pretty, and she was smart and intimidating. She was great with dogs too apparently, and while it could have played in his favor to have something so close to their hearts in common, it was ruined by the fact that his dog running away was literally the reason why they had shared a conversation the other day. At best she thought him clumsy, but it was more likely that she thought he shouldn’t even own a dog if he couldn’t do something as simple as go on a walk without losing her.

He didn’t have a single chance with this girl, he was deluding himself.

Just when his thoughts were getting darker, the lecture started.

Three days after that eye-opening moment, when Peter had accepted that his little crush was a dead-end, she had waltzed into his life again. Peter was sitting at a table in a nearly empty library this early Thursday morning when someone dropped a pile of books next to him, even though the long table was entirely void of people.

“Hey, can you-“ he began before setting his eyes on the person standing behind the chair to his right.

“Can I what?” She smirked, pulling back the chair and sitting down. “Can I fuck off and find an empty table?” She laughed.

“That’s not what I was going to say,” Peter objected, already mentally cursing himself. “I swear.”

“Oh, I know,” she assured him. “You’d have said it way more politely.”

Everything Ned had said and every self-deprecating thought that had bloomed in Peter’s mind since Monday resurfaced and he didn’t know what to say. Say something Peter, just say whatever comes to mind, but don’t just sit there with your jaw hanging, he admonished himself.

“Don’t sweat it,” she added when Peter finally opened his mouth. “I’m not going to bother you, I just thought it’d be silly to sit at the end of the table when you’re right here. Is it okay if I stay and study with you for a bit?”

His heartbeat slowed down a bit and he felt slightly better. That was the problem with putting people you didn’t know on a pedestal: you end up having wrong ideas about them. Emmeline undoubtedly had a strong personality and wasn’t afraid to say things as they were. But she wasn’t haughty or trying to intimidate anyone.

“Sure, I was beginning to feel lonely anyway,” Peter told her.

“I never realized you came here this early too. I like to walk my dog when there’s few people outside, so I come here after, since I’m awake anyway,” she explained, flipping the pages of her manual to find the right chapter.

“I get nervous where there are too many people around me, so…” Peter shrugged and only then realized what he had just said. Holy f***, he was socially inept. Quick Peter, change the subject! “M-maybe I’ll meet Bella one of these days.”

Emmeline looked up and frowned.

“How do you know her name?”

Shit, shit, shit, shit. Today wasn’t his day.

“You- uh, you mentioned it last time, when you found Tessa.” A big fat lie! Hopefully she wouldn’t question it.

Her expression shifted to one of acceptance and she nodded with a little hum.

“Are you studying for the exam next week in Differential Equations?” he asked, deeming it a safer conversation topic.

It was an advanced class with only a handful of students, and she was in it too.

“Uhm, no. I’ve got that covered, I think. I’m here to finish the assignment in Molecular Genetics.”

Peter didn’t have that class, he took Microbiology.

“It’s okay, you don’t need to help me she chuckled.” She must have seen the panic on his face when he realized he wasn’t in that class. “But if you need me to help with D.E. I can.”

He didn’t miss the mischievous air about her when she turned down his help but offered hers. Peter had to smirk to himself, feeling like she had somehow won this conversation if such a thing was even possible.

“Noted,” he said, accepting defeat – this time.

Without thinking much about it, they had both developed new habits since that day Peter had saved her from her assailant.

Ned was wrong, Peter had to believe it. He had to believe that she wasn’t so far out of his league that she wouldn’t even look his way, because she did. Emmeline Gerard looked at him, talked to him, laughed with him. And he could feel himself get deeper in deeper every time he saw her stunning dimpled smile.

The other side of the coin was his visits as Spider-Man. He couldn’t help himself, he wanted to see a side of her that she didn’t show to Peter Parker, or anyone else for that matter. Somehow, she didn’t treat him any different than she did when he wasn’t wearing a mask, but she acted a little different.

He could tell she told him things she wouldn’t share with anyone but Bella – who had grown accustomed to Spider-Man’s random visits and now accepted pats and ear scratches from him. Perhaps she thought her secrets were safe with him because she trusted him after he saved her from sexual assault, or perhaps it was because he didn’t have any motive to spill them, Peter didn’t know. But she did confide in him nonetheless.

He knew that her father bought her this flat when she was got her bachelor’s degree. What a gift for a barely out of high school teen! She had taken it as a not-so-subtle way of being kicked out of the bigger and much fancier penthouse he shared with her mother.

She had never felt much like home there anyway, so she came here and adopted a dog. She was an Aries; she didn’t like coffee; she couldn’t stand horror movies; she was allergic to cats; she read poetry in her spare time; she made an impeccable impression of Gollum and had a broad knowledge of obscure Lord of the Rings lore.

Peter Parker didn’t know most of those things, but Spider-Man did. And as days and weeks went by, he was starting to feel he might be stagnating in his relationship with her. She didn’t open up and bare her soul to him the way she did to Spider-Man when it was near midnight and they were both sat on her balcony (she never let him in) and talked like old friends.

Peter felt as though he was in competition with himself. Peter feared she might like his other self better than his actual self.

“So,” Peter started, sitting Indian style on the tiles, rubbing Bella’s belly now that she liked him well enough to roll on her back and show him her most vulnerable part. “Did you talk to a friend, like we agreed you’d do?” he inquired.

He hadn’t forgotten her promise, even though it has been two months now.

“I haven’t forgotten but I-“ She paused and rubbed her arms. It was late November; it was starting to get too cold to have these chats outside. “I just don’t know who to talk to. I don’t have this kind of friendship with anyone.”

It hurt to hear that. Peter tried not to show it.

“No one at all?” he pressed her on, hoping she would say his name, his real name.

“There’s…” Emmeline sighed, looking skyward and deploring the lack of stars here. Of course, she knew the stars were there, rationally. But after not seeing any for a while, she began to wonder if they were here at all. “No, there’s no one. No one I would share this kind of personal stuff with anyway.”

He didn’t seem happy with her answer, she noticed.

“Isn’t it enough that I tell you? You only made me promise that because you didn’t want me to bottle up my feelings after all.”

“I see the way you act with me. Like I only exist to you when I’m here and not outside of this balcony,” he told her, and she couldn’t have missed the sadness in his voice if she had tried. “You talk to me the same way you would write in a journal you intend to burn once full.”

“That’s not tr-“

“It is, even if you haven’t realized yet,” Peter insisted.

Maybe it was wrong to come here twice a week to check in on her, to hear about all the things she did not tell him during the day. All the things that she didn’t tell him, period.

It felt like cheating. When he talked to her as Spider-Man, she told him things that she didn’t want to tell Peter Parker, and it was wrong of him to listen to these secrets.

“I won’t come back after tonight,” he announced, having decided to leave her alone. He had to do this right if he really liked the girl – and he did, God he liked her.

She didn’t even attempt to argue, further confirming his sentiment of not even being real to her.

“Oh.” She looked disappointed but that was it. “Alright. I guess you couldn’t have come here forever.”

No, he couldn’t have. He only wished he had realized it sooner.

Spider-Man was a mask, and Peter had allowed himself to forget it because it allowed him to be close to the girl he liked. It was easier than being Peter Parker, awkward nerd who had set his eyes on a girl who was out of reach.

“You’re a nice girl, Emmeline,” he told her, refusing to use her nickname. “You might think nobody cares about a rich girl’s problems, but I’m sure you have friends who would listen. Just have a little faith.”

Have a little faith. It was a solid piece of advice that Peter was committed to follow too.

Reblog to save a writer

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bubblesthemonsterartist · 5 years

Note

Can you please write more of your mountain lion AU? Thank you

The Road Less Traveled Masterlist

~ ~ ~

He doesn’t remember his dreams.

Only the sensation of them. Thepounding of blood and the clatter of teeth, the wrench of muscle and the acheof bone. He remembers the way his hands are slick then sticky so the skinbetween his fingers tack together even after he wakes; how his lungs fill withliquid, leaving him stuttering, clawing for breath; the one, two, three snap ofhis brain as his body pulls long; the restlessness; the sweat pooling in thehollow of his throat; the sting of broken flesh mingling with salt.

He hates them.

His eyes snap open, darkness bleedinginto sight and breath filling his lungs with a horrible sucking sound that isthe opposite of a scream. It pours into his chest, into his stomach, until itcan no more, bound in by the pull of fabric across his everything.

It’s impossible to know if he’s stilldreaming or if he’s awake. If he should stop inhaling before his lungs explode.If this is the last chance he’ll get before being submerged once again.

“Easy, son.”

Vision flicking through the dark, atiny flare of light becoming brighter, blinding him and he pinches his faceshut against the strike.

“I hope you didn’t pull any stitches,” thevoice continues, slow and conversational. Soothing, the way he has seen traders speak to half broken livestock. It’s a strangely idle thought, but Obi wondershow often he works with wild dogs. “Shirayuki is the one who swaddled a grownboy like an infant, but it’ll be me that she’s sour with for letting you getworked up.”

Peeling his eyelids back, Obi squintsagainst the low light of the lantern. Watches as first a table, then a plant, then a human come slowly into resolve. The light glows across a face, familiar but muchdrier than that the man he met in his memories, the groves of age and strain starkunder the glow of the fire. A stubble-covered jaw stretches wide in a yawn and,with the flick of a wrist, his matchstick goes out.

“Mukaze,” Obi mutters out loud,unintentionally, his brain and his mouth working in tandem. Eyes widening, hesnaps his mouth shut, and only then feels the sting of his lips, the sleep thatcakes his mouth.

“That’s right,” Mukaze grins. The skinby his eyes crinkle. “And you’re Obi, right? My daughtersaid that was your name.”

Maybe he nods in confirmation. Maybe hedoesn’t. But regardless, Mukaze clambers stiffly to his feet, and Obi’s breathgoes shallow at the sheer size of him. For a moment, he is no longer dry andwarm, but wet and impossibly cold, staring down a swordsman in the dim of astorm that wants his life. It was one thing to face him in the wild, where atleast Obi had adrenaline and knives and his feet under him. But here, under theselayers of sheets and quilts, he has never felt so small.

“I’m just getting you a glass ofwater,” Mukaze soothes, palms extended up and out. “No need to go for thewindow or introduce your face to the ground again.”

Obi blinks. Registers the words. Then the pain in his knuckles where he clutches the sheets beneath him. And lets go.“She told you about that?”

His lips twitch tellingly. “Nah. I justfigured after our introduction that you would be the type that needed proof.”

~ ~ ~

The next time he wakes up, it is silent.And he is alone.

His vision swims, then clears. Sweat beads against an earthen cup at his bedside, condenses, and slides slowly down to stain the wood beneath it.

His mouth is still dry, but-

The cup is so far away. And he can’t move his arms.

Beyond it, a burner glows steadily in the cornerof the room, filling the room with a pleasant heat. Smoke curls a fine coil froma censer resting over the coals and his eyelashes flutter. It smells pretty. Likeflowers. Like a store of drying spring green lining the walls of a home in hismemories that he’s not sure ever really existed.

It’s- nice. Maybe as nice as the wrapof clean linen. Or the sweet straw mattress beneath his back.

No, he takes a deep breath in. Nicer.

~ ~ ~

When next he’s pulled free of hisdreamless sleep, there are more pressing matters to attend to than the whisper of smokeand memory. Teeth baring in a grimace, he shifts and, ye gods-

Bedding pulls tight across his body, pressing his belly into his bladder, andah, he was going to have words withthe Miss about what she found best for his sleep.

He could, of course, use the bucket athis bedside. Just the presence of it makes his cheeks heat. Makes him wonder how long he’s been here. If he- hassuffered more indignities than he remembers. Yanking one shoulder free of theirtightly woven prison, he has immediate regrets.

Pain radiates through his whole body,vibrates through his teeth. Gods, gods, how could he forget about being cleaved into two? Staring at the ceiling, he pants, tries to count the seconds but cannot recall the numbers past two, a cold sweat prickling his brow. So he just. Breathes. Untilthe worst of it has passed.

And when it does, he eyes the bucket.The door on the other side of the room. And the bucket again.

Delicately this time, he untangles therest of him. Places his feet on bare wood. And forgets the bucket.

From there, it’s… simply a matter offinding a proper handhold. Grasp a table here, a coat hanger there, a shelf, andfinally a doorknob.

Now,he pants when the door opens before him, cataloging the shelves with theirglass jars glinting in moonlight, the shape of counters and a smattering of shadowsshaped like chairs. Just where is thechamberpot?

~ ~ ~

“What a pain…”

That voice, he’s heard it somewhere.Somewhere beneath the heat pouring on his skin and the bright light bleedingthrough his closed eyelids, there are more people. More voices. And they- don’tsound happy.

“Who was supposed to be sitting bedsidelast night?”

“He hasn’t hurt himself since westarted burning the valerian and poppy. It’s not like he’s dying anymore! I didn’tthink he would need it!”

Obi swallows. Allows himself only abrief flutter of nerves. And keeps his eyes shut.

“Everyone has their rotation for a reason, Mihaya”

Ah, the Miss. And she sounds no more pleasedthan anyone else in the room.

“I don’t see what the big deal is. It’sjust a few broken jars.”

Oops.

“You can clean this mess up, then!” Thefirst voice. Obi can’t tell if it is a man or a woman. Only that they’re gettinglouder with every word. “And find us some replacements!”

“Oh dear, I think I hear the kitchenscalling. But I’m sure you can handle it, pretty boy…”

“Mihaya!” The voice cracks. So a boy, then. “Mihaya!”

Wood thuds against wood, and a chorusof sighs fills the silence left behind.

“What a mess. Maybe we could call Itoya toget that guy back to bed-”

“He got himself out,” the boy snaps. “He can get himselfback in.”

“Kazuki,” Miss’s voice is sharp. Awarning.

“I’m just saying-“

“Don’t.”

Her footsteps are light, but theystrike the floorboards definitively. With each one, he comes up with anotherexcuse. It wasn’t me. Must’ve been an earthquake. A cat. The cabinet shelveswere too weighted down.

He doesn’t even remember how he knocked them down. Last heremembers is stepping away from the chamberpot, looking at the distance hecrossed. The distance that he would have to cross again, and- and-

A window seat. There was a nice windowseat on the way…

Miss sighs, soft and exasperated, herhand gently touching his shoulder, and-

Perhaps he could feign dead.

“Obi,” she says, her voice gentle. “Obi,wake up.”

Or at least deaf. That way she couldyell all she wanted-

“Obi this isn’t your bed. Let’s get yousomeplace more comfortable.”

His eyelashes flutter, sight stinging at the light filtering in through the windows, thosetoo green eyes staring down at him-

“Miss,” he purrs, drawing out his bestsmile. “Checking in on me already?”

“It’s mid-morning,” she smiles,squeezing his shoulder. “And you’re not where I left you last night.”

“Hmm.” He tilts his head towards thesun, eyes closing once again. “I didn’t notice.”

She huffs. “Why are you out here?”

He peers at her underneath his lashes.Manages to lift one hand into the shape of a claw. “Meow.”

Her lips twitch, but that kind bedsidemanner does not fade. “Do you need help?”

“I would be fine here.”

“We’re going to be noisy.”

“Noisy’s fine.”

Her lips spread wide in a smile. “Everyone in the village is very curious about you. They might start asking you questions.”

“If he’s good enough to be out here.”Obi’s eyes flash to a blonde half way across the room, arms crossed and facetwisted in displeasure. “He’s good enough to clean up the mess he made.”

Grimacing, Obi finally opens his mouth to take theblame, but Miss glances over her shoulder. Says nothing. And Obi finds himselfimmensely grateful he cannot see the expression on her face for how Kazuki shrivels.

“I mean, he seems okay!” he squawks.

“I’m sorry.” His voice surpriseshimself. “I just- I went for a walk. I don’t remember the rest. I don’t haveany money to pay you for it right now-”

“Obi.” Miss stares at him, face gentled again. “It’s fine. My father breaks more than you ever could.”

Guilt is not a foreign feeling to him.He’s learned to live with it. But he doesn’t know how to live with this. Thisforgiveness. “Oh.”

“Fine,” their vocal audience memberhuffs. “But he doesn’t stay out here. If he doesn’t take himself back to his bed,I’ll force him to go.”

“Kazuki-“

“Scoundrel,” Obi purrs, batting hiseyelashes. “Are you going to have your way with me when you get me there, too?”

#bubbleswrites #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #obiyuki #mountain lion au #you will never know how much i agonized over this chapter nonny #it took me FOREVER to get ANYWHERE on it #so I hope you enjoy it!#Anonymous

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its-ok-to-smile · 6 years

Text

Some memorable scenes from Avengers: Infinity War

(and some of my thoughts)

{Spoilers beneath cut. Apologies to those on mobile, you’ll have to blindly scroll}

[Note: not a quotes will be verbatim]

The desperation in Loki’s voice in the distress call.

That whole opening scene, GOD DAMN!

We didn’t see them, but there’s a good chance, Valkerie, Korg, and Meek are dead as well

Like Thanos whole thing is that he kills half of wherever, so maybe he took a fraction of them prisoner, but STILL!

“We have a hulk”, reminds me of when the first Avengers came out, Chris said at some carpet interview he wished Loki was an Avenger

Some people were wondering why Heimdall sent Hulk to Earth, I personally thought it was that he was sent to warn them

HEIMDALL! LOKI!(I’m glad I got over my crush on him, I would’ve been ever more distraught than I already was)

Thor just clinging to his brother as the ship blows up, he’s lost everything, he’s broken.

‘‘You don’t believe in worldly possessions[...] Well maybe I can tell that to the Deli people and they’ll make you an ethereal sandwich.

Tony and Pepper talking about having kids! Also, matching jumpsuits!

Science bros hugging!

“Your embarrassing me in front of the wizards”

Hulk is scared!

“Cause a distraction” “WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE!”

“Ain’t you kids ever seen a spaceship before”

But it can’t be a good sign if they’re getting the Stan Lee cameo out of the way so soon

“Whats going on?” “This guy wants to steal a necklace from a wizard”

Russo Brothers: “Ok look, we’ve got enough character in this movie as is, so Wong, you’re done now”

“I can’t be a ‘Friendly Neighborhood Spider-man’ if there’s no neighborhood. That sounded better in my head”

“The kids seen more movies than me”

THE GUARDIANS!! (Seriously their introduction was awesome)

Pretty much all the Guardians agreeing that Quill has put on weight

“This is a wake-up call[...] Gonna get a couple dumbbells” “You can’t eat dumbbells Quill”

“Thanos desecrated Xandar” does that mean Irani and Rhomann are dead as well?

Apparently they didn't have raccoons on Asgard, but they did have rabbits, which looked enough like raccoons to be mixed up

“Swear on your mother” “Ok”

FINALLY GOT A PETER/GAMORA KISS!

“How long have you been there?” “An hour”

I think this was the first time we ever heard Drax refer to his daughter by name(He said his wife’s name in GOTG2)

“I told you to go left”

Peter loves Gamora so much, he’s willing to live without her because of his promise to her

‘Groot’ is an Asgardian elective

Love how the series messes with expectations, such as Dwarfs being the closer to the size of Frost Giants

Groot stepping up to the plate and making the handle

Steve having a total Batman moment with that train

Alot of people pointed put that he ditched the star on his chest and the ‘A’ on his shoulder, but i don’t think anyone mentioned that he never wore his helmet either

Not gonna lie, when I saw promo art for Natasha, my first thought was ‘TRAITOR!’ (I have red hair)

“Arrest them” “Yes Sir” *hangs up”

So that’s why Clint and Scott weren’t in any of the promos

‘‘There’s an Ant-man and a Spider-man?”

“WHY IS GAMORA!!

“Is Footloose still the greatest movie ever?” “It never was” >:O

I know it’s horrifying, but that was a really cool perspective shot they did with Nebula

Thanos knew that torturing Gamora wouldn’t make her tell him where the stone is

Thanos: “I’ll just leave this woman, that I literally turned into a killing machine, in a room with just one guard”

I was actually nervous that the cloaked figure was Death, and they had decided to make her a man, but then RED SKULL!!

After so many movies, I thought they decided not to do anything with that cliffhanger.. but NOPE

PLEASE don’t let that be a permanent death, Quill has lost enough already, and obviously Gamora deserves so much better

“We can’t just wing it” “That’s kind of our whole thing”

“Tell them how you saved the galaxy with a dance-off”

“I was thinking the Olympics, or a Starbucks”

Rhodey trolling Bruce on Wakandan customs

[...]“And a war veteran whose 100 years old”

Steve and Bucky hugging!

“Why didn’t you just reprogram the synapses to work connectivity?” (pause) “Because we didn’t think of it..”(plus Vision’s expression when Shuri says it)

The look Okoye gives Bruce when he trips

Jabaris war cry(and they keep doing it throughout the battle)

The respect from M’Baku to T’Challa, considering how they used to be

“This is the end of Wakanda” “Then a glorious end it shall be” “WAKANDA FOREVER”

“Why was she up there the whole time?”

Okoye+Natasha team up!

Then Wanda joins in! (my gay heart couldn’t handle it)

“That was gross”

*Thor shows up* “Oh now you’re screwed”

“I am Groot” *Places hand on chest* “I. am. Steve Rogers”

Bucky just picking up Rocket and doing a spinning machine gun attack

“I am so getting that arm”

“Yeah you look a Thanos”

I remember after the credits started, I heard the guy next to me say, “All that could have been avoided if Quill hadn’t punched Thanos’’ But that is Quill’s character, he’s always been emotion-driven, it was because of his emotions that he saved the day in both of his movies(Illogically grabbing the stone, using his ‘heart’)

“I’ve got you! And you! I’m sorry I don’t remember your names!”

“If you throw another moon at me I’m gonna kick your ass”

+++++((Now the sad stuff))+++++

Wanda having to kill the love of her life, just for it to be pointless

“Steve?”

Wanda didn’t even seem to care when she died

When T’Challa went to help up Okoye, I was expecting her to ‘dust’, but then he did, the look of pure horror/confusion on her face

Rhodey searching for Sam(also just how they were constantly looking out for each other in the battle)

I see alot of people saying how sad it was Tony watching his adopted son die(and while I agree) I feel like they’re looking over the other adopted son dying scene: Rocket and Groot

The way Groot says his line almost like question but also with a hint of fear to it(As with every movie, props to Vin Diesel, for being able to portray so many emotions with one line) And Rocket just quietly going "No, oh, no-no-no”

Steve just saying ‘Dear God’’, anyone else think he was starting to pray

What’s going to happen when Rocket finds out he’s the only one left

“There was no other way” anyone else suspect that was Dr. Strange admitting that there was never a future where they won.

Peter sounding so scared when he knew what was coming, the way he was just clinging to Tony, hoping he could fix it.

That scene with Thanos sitting on the hill reminded me of that quote from someone’s dream-Obama: “To become God is the loneliest achievement there is’’

Maria and Fury still working together

Dust-censoring

The after credits/Captain Marvel teaser was cool, but I will admit I was a little disappointed, cause I was expecting/hoping it would be Coulson

+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=

All the original Avengers are still alive(Hawkeye is unknown)

Everyone thought Steve and/or Tony would die, possibly Tony would die saving Peter, how wrong we were...

I suspect everyone who dusted will come back, due to several of them having sequels planned.

I also think Gamora will come back(though that’s more of a hope), like maybe they’ll use some excuse where, only she can be revived, cause she’s the only one whose body is intact.(Heimdall and Loki blew up, the stones may be destroyed, so Vision might not come back)

Where is Shuri? Last we saw her was when Vision was attacked, I feel they would have shown if she dusted. They’re obviously not going to get everyone back right away, so that leaves her as the next ruler of Wakanda

I assume all the movies planned to come out before the next part will be set before this, but I wonder how the TV shows will work around it. They can’t all go on a X amount of years hiatus (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. was setting up Thanos’ arrival, so they certainly can’t pretend their a couple years behind)

#marvel cinematic universe #mcu #the avengers #avengers infinity war #avengers infinity war spoilers #thanos demands your silence #guardians of the galaxy #doctor strange #captain america #iron man #spiderman #thor #thanos #smile speaks

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ssimagines · 7 years

Text

Reid’s Monster 3 || Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: 1854

Summary: Spencer Reid AU where Reid creates a Monster and JJ meets her. JJ learns about who you really are.

Warnings: Halloween Oriented triggers, Frankenstein triggers, HALLOWEEN THEMES, scars, stitches

Long Note: Just so you know I know halloween can be triggering, please don’t read if you have a problem with halloween or scars.

This is sorta based off an imagine series for Andy Biersack that I read two years ago and I would like to credit the author so thank you No-love-for-the-sick. This is a variation on your idea, but I am trying to put my own spin on it.

Will be a multi-parter all posted the days before Halloween in succession please enjoy and stay tuned. This is part two. I again didn’t write when I should have, so today there will be two again and I am extending the story past Halloween because it’s not done yet.

This is one of my favorite to write also sadly Spencer isn’t very Spencer like, but next part he will be for sure.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Epilogue

Masterlist

JJ stood in the doorway looking at the young doctor who held this strange girl in his arms. She was completely shocked. There were a million things swirling around in her head, but none of them seemed to be able to find a way to exit her mouth, so she stood there staring at the couple.

Spencer stared back at JJ as your body continued to shake with sobs. You could feel JJ’s presence, but you didn’t care about her as you tried to control the tear that came from you.

Crying was a new experience for you and you had no idea why it had started or how to stop it. You let over you and over whelm your body. The word hurt came to mind, but you couldn’t really understand what it meant.

“Y/N, it’s okay,” Spencer whispered into your ear. He was rubbing soothing circles along your back. He gestured for JJ to approach the two of you. She did slowly taking small hesitant steps toward the man and your sobbing form.

Your head was buried in Spencer’s chest, and one of your hands was wrapped around his shirt. Through your hair you could see a sliver of the floor next to the bed. As you cried you saw shoes in the small sliver of floor.

Spencer’s hand started stroking your hair which calmed you down.

Soothing.

You sat staring at the shoes as your tears slowed and you were able to even out your breath. Spencer kept telling you it was going to be okay over and over again. Eventually, your crying did stop and you looked up from you place burrowed in Spencer’s shirt.

Your eyes met his and you moved your hand to touch his cheek like he did to you all the time.

As the long sleeve of the sweater you were wearing fell back to reveal the scar that circled your wrist, a small gasp slipped out of JJ’s mouth. Your gaze snapped to her having completely forgotten that she was more than just shoes. Your hand returned to its place clenching Spencer’s shirt tighter this time causing a bit of pain in your swollen, healing wrist.

You made eye contact with JJ. The two of you held each other’s gaze unsure of what to do. You tilted your head as you looked over her face. Cautiously, you released your hold on Spencer’s shirt and reached to run your hand along the woman’s smooth face.

When you first saw your own reflection, you thought nothing of the scars that ran along your face. You were aware of the lack of stitches on Spencer’s face, but you also knew that he was different from you. This woman looked more like you with her softer features, but there was no stitches or scars on it.

JJ let your fingertips run along her face. She watched you as you curiously looked over her nearly flawless skin on her face. She took the time with you distracted to look over you.

You were wrapped in Spencer a little like a koala bear with your legs wrapped around his waist making it nearly impossible to see your torso. Because you were wearing shorts, JJ could see the stiches that adorned your legs. They were swollen and she knew that they had to be painful. Her eyes moved to your arms which were mostly covered. She couldn't see any of the stitches other than the one on your wrist of your hand extended towards her.

Her eyes finally looked over your face. Aside from the crude stitches that crossed your whole face at your eyes, you were beautiful. There were a few bruises on your nose and cheek bones, but they were more yellow than purple. Your hair was tangled and messy, but it was still beautiful. That was something that JJ kept getting hung up on. You were so beautiful.

JJ met your eyes to see that you were just staring at her. Your hand had again returned to its spot curled around Spencer’s shirt. JJ’s gaze flashed briefly to look at Spencer who was just waiting for a reaction from her.

“Y/N,” you said slowly pointing to yourself. When you woke up the first night, Spencer spent a good thirty minutes pointing at you and telling your name. Spencer had done the same for him until you were able to remember both your names. Now here you were doing the same gesture to introduce yourself. Spencer laughed at your gesture, but you ignored it waiting for JJ to introduce herself.

JJ just stared at you confused. She wasn’t sure what to do, so she looked to Spencer in a panic. He just nodded to her so she very hesitantly introduced herself.

“JJ,” she said pointing to herself. A smile spread across your lips.

“JJ,” you said pointing to JJ before pointing at yourself again. “Y/N”- you pointed to Spencer- “Spencer.”

“Yes, princess,” Spencer said pressing a kiss to your temple. The smile on your face spread even wider. You unlatched yourself from Spencer and crawled across the bed. The two adults watched you bring something back. You situated yourself back down onto Spencer’s lap and faced JJ. You showed her the cat and the hat bool with a smile.

“Cat… and the… hat,” you said pointing to the words as you read them. You flipped to the first page and started reading the book. “The sun … did not SHINE.”

When you got to words that you had learned earlier, you got excited and practically yelled them causing Spencer to laugh. JJ watched you read in awe. She didn’t really understand what you wee, but you had to admit you reading was impressive.

It had been about two hours since you meet JJ. You had gotten tired, and Spencer had put you to bed. Now Spencer and JJ were in his kitchen. Spencer had offered to make them sandwiches because he couldn’t leave to go out to lunch like the two of them had planned. JJ had taken him up on his offer as she was very hungry. That lead them to where they were now eating his kitchen table.

“Do I need to ask or are you going to explain what just happened?” JJ said in between bites. Spencer sighed and wiped his mouth. This sandwich returned to his plate as he thought of where to start.

“That’s Y/N,” he said. His tone was somber making everything seem serious. Spencer was worried that JJ would be mad at him or disappointed.

“Well, I got that,” JJ said laughing a little to lighten the mood. She wanted him to know that he wasn’t in trouble. “She really likes to introduce herself, doesn’t she?”

After you had finished Cat and the Hat you had introduced yourself again before getting another book. You did that at least three more times.

Spencer chuckled and nodded.

“Yeah, she does,” he said.” I think I am to blame for that one. When she woke up the first time, I spent nearly an hour on introductions thinking she didn’t understand me.”

There was a moment of Silence as Spencer reminisced about that first moment with you. JJ was waiting for him to continue, but she soon realized she would have to prompt him to get the answers she wanted.

“What is she, Spence?” JJ asked.

“Well, she’s human if that’s what you are asking,” He said looking at the blonde across from him. “She just wasn’t exactly born. I created her.”

Spencer gave JJ a moment to really understand what he had said.

“What do you mean ‘you created her’?” JJ said hesitantly. She wasn’t sure that she actually wanted the answer to his.

“I made her,” Spencer said. “I don’t really know how to explain, but in a way that you won’t think I’m crazy, but there was a lot of science and rituals involved in the process.”

“Why did you ‘create her’?”

Spencer took a deep breath. This was the one question he actually didn’t want to talk about. It wasn’t logical that of all things the most logical one was the one he was scared of, but it was the one that he knew he would get the most crap for.

“Well,” Spencer started hesitantly. JJ listened without making a sound. “I guess I was just tired of waiting. In less than three years, I’ll be 40, and I don’t really have time to wait around and hope for the right person to come along. About a year ago, I was rereading Frankenstein at Halloween when I started to think of how feasible it actually was. I started to do researching it, and before long I was in really deep in all these ways of raising the dead. A lot of the stories were all about the dangers of a person not coming back the same, but I figured since I didn’t want to bring someone back, but to make someone new that that would not really be a problem.”

JJ was beyond confused. He had done all of this just to find someone to love him. For years, the team had teased him about not having anyone, but she didn’t realize that it actually bugged him. She knew that Reid wanted a family, but she never would have thought that he would go this far.

JJ looked to the hallway that lead to the bedroom where you were sleeping. Spencer tried to get a read on how JJ was feeling. The way she sat and the look on her face were one of worry. There was no disgust or anger. For that, Spencer was glad.

“And the stitches?” JJ finally spoke.

“Well, that’s pretty simple,” Spencer shrugged as he spoke. “All the piece of her haven’t healed together yet.”

“How did you get the pieces of her Spencer?” JJ was scared of this answer. She knew that she would not like it.

“From dead bodies,” he said cringing a little. It sounded way worse that it should. “I only took from unclaimed bodies at morgues and crematoriums. I tried to take one from a funeral home. It was something that no one would ever notice, but the embalming process ruined it.”

JJ laughed. She was grossed out, but the way that spencer was talking about it made it better. The two of them work to stop serial killers and other criminals, so death wasn’t that odd of a thing to hear about. This though was really weird.

“Maybe, we should come up with a different back story for her,” JJ said. “I don’t think you should tell people what you just told me.”

“It’s really weird, isn’t it?” Spencer asked. JJ just nodded, but that caused the two of them to start laughing. “Thank you for not running. I don’t really know what I would’ve done if you walked out.”

“I really don’t know why I’m not running,” JJ said. “So, let’s come up with a better backstory for Y/N.”

Spencer just nodded as the duo started bouncing ideas off each other.

#spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer x reader #spencer reid x you #matthew gray gubler imagine #Matthew Gray Gubler #imagine #matthew gray gubler x reader #Criminal Minds #imagines #criminal minds imagine #halloween imagine #frankenstein's creature #frankenstein's monster #frankenstein's monster imagine

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mymixofmuses · 4 years

Text

Winter Wonderland

(A roleplay in progress with my Audrey muse and @red-rad-and-rod .) “…Where’s the snow?” Michigan in winter was supposed to be the real-life equivalent of a snow-globe, wasn’t it? White Christmases were a thing out here, right? So why was all that Syd could see from the big window from the airport just brown grass and dead trees? “All that time on the plane just for the same stuff we could get at home, except it’s a lot colder? This sucks.” Joining his sister at the window, J.C. placed an arm on her head as if she were a headrest. “Hey, snow’s not the main reason we’re here, remember?” No, the reason he and his family were in the States was a much more exciting one. For once, they were there for pleasure, as opposed to tagging along on Roger’s business trips. Last time J.C. was in Michigan, he has met someone. A lovely someone, if he was being honest. Audrey Davis was a strong beam of sunshine (both figuratively and literally) that worked her way into his and the other Malones’ lives…all by chance of her dog running off. Since then, the two had been in touch with each other in a variety of ways: e-mail, Skype, Facetime…it was great to see each other and hear each other’s voices once in a while, but nothing compared to being with someone in person. During one of their conversations, the two were tossing around an idea of seeing each other for the holidays. Hypotheticals soon turned to actualities and soon enough, the Malones found themselves on the way to Michigan! So if Syd was going to be a bit of a grump over the fact that there wasn’t any real, measurable snow, that was alright…J.C had enough excitement for the two (…well, three, technically, but Kat was slumped over her mother’s shoulder and still sleeping) of them combined.

- Audrey had a terrible poker face and it was quite obvious from looking at her that she was incredibly eager for their arrival. She practically buzzed with excitement in her seat and, once she caught sight of the family with their red-haired middle child, she bolted out of her seat towards them. “Jaaaaayyyy Ceeeeeeee!” Audrey practically tackled the brunet into a bear hug. While she was happy to see all of them, J.C. was the one she’d spent most of her time talking to. “I was starting to think you guys would never get here,” she chirped as she addressed the family, still holding onto the eldest Malone sibling. - Aaah, the voice that made his heart skip a beat~ Turning around, J.C. quickly found himself being glomped by Audrey. Not that he was complaining, of course. When the two connected, he returned the bear hug with another, equally bear-like hug. “So did we,” Charlotte chuckled, “We were planning on a shorter layover, but I guess there was a minor scheduling issue with our flights. Soooo we ended up spending a little more time in Buffalo than anticipated while that was sorted out. Finally here, though! How’ve things been with you and the family, darling?” Syd was still a little mopey, but upon seeing Audrey, she perked up a bit. Once her and J.C. were done hugging, she was going to charge at her like a baby bull. - The moment she let go of J.C., Syd was all over her. Audrey didn’t mind, hugging her back with a laugh. “Glad to see you too, scamp!” Letting go of the child, she turned her attention to Mrs. Malone. “They’re all doing well! We see a lot of each other this time of year so we can keep track of who gets what present without repeats. ‘Okay, so you’re getting Joey this, so I won’t get him this. I’ll get him that.’ That sort of thing,” she chuckled. “We all know what presents everyone else is getting, pretty much. Sometimes we pitch in for a shared gift, since we can’t all be loaded like Uncle Chet,” she laughed. Realizing they may not get it, Audrey clarified. “He’s a lawyer.” - The little redhead’s “AUDREEEEEY!” quickly became a muffled “Audeeeee!” as she slammed into her. Okay, so maybe she got scammed out of snow, but hey! Spending time with a friend was always good. Mrs. Malone nodded, smiling and chuckling again. “Oh, I hear that- especially with the gift coordinating. One of my siblings has a set of 2 year old triplets, so I think we’ve decided on one big gift for all three, then a few small, individualized ones for each of them.” “And my sister has a teenager,” Mr. Malone added, “One with ever-changing tastes, so…liiiiittle bit of a challenge. I’ve asked for input, but- as I said- when your tastes change what seem like almost bi-monthly, it’s a bit hard to keep up.” “I still say we get her socks,” Syd piped up, “Socks are cool.” - “Oh goodness. That does sound like a challenge.” She turned her attention to Syd. “Oh? I didn’t know you wanted socks for Christmas. I suppose I could take what I have back really quick and get you a nice pair of socks.” While Audrey was kidding, she managed to keep a straight face, hoping to get an entertaining reaction. - “Should’ve said somethin’ before I went out and got you yours back home.” J.C. added, playing along. “…Socks for them! I mean, yeah, socks are nice, but that’s not the main thing I’m lookin’ for for Christmas!” the ten-year-old sputtered frantically, “I’m trying super hard to be good, and I don’t want my reward to be so…so little!” - Audrey chuckled. “It’s okay, Syd. We’re just joking. Your gifts aren’t going anywhere… Well, technically, they are. We’ve got to get your luggage and such from here to my parents’ place.” She looked around a moment, then smiled as she spotted a familiar tall figure making his way over. “Speaking of parents, here comes my dad~” They had established earlier that she and her father would take separate vehicles to get themselves, the Malones, and their luggage to where they needed to go. - J.C. gave his younger sister a pat on the head, before turning to Audrey. “Yyyeeeah, this time of year’s a little stressful for her. Last minute crunch for her to get on Father Christmas’s nice’ list.” Upon seeing Audrey’s dad, J.C.’s posture stiffened eeeever so slightly. Sure, the two seemed to have hit it off pretty well the last time they’d met, but he still made him just a taaaad bit nervous. On the plus side, he didn’t feel like his heart was going to leap out of his chest this time. After initial greetings from his parents, J.C. chimed in with a “Happy hols, sir. This time of year treating you alright?” - Edward raised a brow. He could only assume ‘hols’ was short for holidays and either an English thing or a youth thing. “Ah, well enough. Rather hectic, but, anything to keep the family happy,” he smiled slightly. Turning his attention to Mrs. Malone, he smiled a little wider. This was their first meeting; best to be polite. “I’d offer to shake your hand, but I see your arms are full with the little one.” “That’s Kat,” Audrey chirped. “And how she’s staying asleep during all this, I’ll never know.” - “I hear that.” Roger chuckled, “Often times, our holidays are spent a bit further north with the rest of the family. Decided to change it up a bit this year; they’ll be seeing us after New Year’s.” Charlotte gave the man a smile as well, trying not to look like she was totally surprised about how tall he was. “Aha…yeah. Time zone changes, what can you do?” As if on cue, Kat started to stir. The sudden increase in the number of voices, perhaps. Letting out a yawn and rubbing her eyes, she looked over to see someone…a very tall someone with somewhat bunny-like teeth. “Hi, Mr. Davis.” she said, still rubbing a bit of sleep out of her eyes. Hm, if Mr. Davis was here, then that should mean… She looked around to find her brother and saw Audrey, smiling even wider. “Hiya, Audrey.” - “Hello, Kat,” Edward smiled. “Hiya, sweetheart,” Audrey greeted. “Well, now that introductions are out of the way, does anyone need anything before we go get your luggage?” Edward asked. - “Christmas to get here faster.” Syd answered. “You first need the ability to time travel, and I don’t think we’ve gotten that far yet scientifically, kid.” J.C. replied, shaking his head and smirking.“Then in that case, no. ‘Sides, I need to stretch my legs and the only way to really do that iiiiis to go to the luggage thingy!” - “Fair enough,” Edward shrugged. The group went about getting their luggage and, thankfully, all their belongings had arrived safely. As they went about loading their belongings in the two vehicles, Audrey piped up. “Okay, so who’s riding with who?” - “I betcha J.C. wants to ride with a certain someooooone~” Syd piped up, giving her brother a cheeky smile and nudging him. “…Well, yeah, obviously.” he shrugged, “We haven’t seen each other in who knows how long, it’d be nice to be a little closer than screens-width apart.” The older brother mimicked his sister’s cheeky smile, “Even if it’s not bugging me, teasing’s not very nice, you knoooow~” Cue a small “Mmmph!” and Syd cringing a little. Curse this whole naughty and nice dichotomy! “Oo! Can I go with Audrey and J.C.?” Kat asked, looking between Charlotte and Roger. Both parents gave her a sort of “I don’t see why not” shrug.- Given Audrey’s crush and terrible poker face, it was a good thing J.C. responded to Syd before she could. “It was in April,” she spoke up. “I remember because it wasn’t long after my birthday. Sooo… eight months. It’s been eight months.” Audrey smiled over at Syd. “We have room for one more, if you’d like to join us.” - Oh, she wanted to, she most certainly wanted to. Buuut…”better judgement Syd”, as she called it, won in the end. “I want to, really, but…” Remember, Syd; it’s only for a little while longer! Once Christmas comes, you’re free!, “I want to keep the potential fightin’ between Kat and I to a minimum. We’ve spent a lot of time on the plane together, an’ I want a little space. ‘Sides, I’m gonna see you at your house anyway!” She paused for a minute, looking to Audrey and Edward. “That’s…okay, right?”J.C and Kat glanced at each other, a bit shocked. That was….surprisingly mature of their sister. - Audrey was as surprised as the rest, given how kids tended to be all over her in general. Then again, her logic made sense. After blinking a moment, she smiled. “Of course it is, Syd. That’s very mature of you; avoiding trouble like that. I bet Santa’s really happy with you right now~ I’ll see you when we get home, okay?” Edward nodded. - He better be, I’m losin’ my mind!, the ten year old thought. Externally, however, she responded with a smile and a small giggle. Pleased with the display of maturity, Roger gave his eldest daughter a pat on the head and a pat on the back. “Well, we best be getting on our way then, yeah?” “Yup! Meet you guys back at the house!” With that, Syd started to take off ahead of the group, but immediately stopped when she heard her mother call her. Right, right…don’t go too far. Dang it, Santa! After setting Kat down and giving her the standard “Mum” rundown (”Be good”, “Stay close”, all that jazz), Charlotte gave the quartet a wave and began to catch up to Syd, with Roger doing the same. Once she was settled, Kat looked between Audrey and J.C. “Is it far? I mean, your house from here.”- “Kind of,” Audrey smiled apologetically. “About an hour away. Don’t want to live too close to an airport; too noisy. But,” she chirped, “I have music we can listen to on the way~” Once everyone was in the car and settled, Audrey connected her iPod to the radio and handed it to J.C. “Go nuts,” she chuckled as she proceeded to drive. --- Meanwhile, Edward was pleased that a child willingly chose to ride with him, instead of his child-magnet daughter. Sure, she was doing it to avoid conflict, but she still earned a bit of his favor… and a piece of Jolly Rancher hard candy from the bag he kept in the glove box. Just one though. - Kat shrugged, “Eh, could be worse. A drive up to our cousins takes about…5 hours? I think? An hour’s not all that bad.” Especially when you didn’t have anyone randomly poking you while trying to nap. J.C. looked between the iPod and Audrey a couple times before smiling a bit and going through her song list. …Disney? Right now seemed like a Disney song time. Now the only question was what song. …Eeeeny, meany, mineeeeeey…. —— Alright, so maybe this whole “being good” thing wasn’t too, too bad. She got a Jolly Rancher for coming along with Audrey’s dad, and didn’t have to have her sister snoring in her ear the entire time. “Sooo, lemme get this straight,” Syd began, shifting the candy off to the side and into her cheek like a jawbreaker, “if blue raspberries are not a thing, then how come it’s a flavour? How’s it made?”- While Audrey wasn’t very technology obsessed, she was quite organized. This was reflected in her iPod, which had many playlists separated by genre, artist, soundtracks, etcetera. She did indeed have a Disney playlist, divided up by movie. — “If I had to guess, they use blue dye to make it easier to differentiate between cherry and strawberry flavors. Though strawberry, watermelon, and bubblegum flavors tend to be the same color. Perhaps someone was just tired of pink.” - J.C. thought for a moment before looking up in the driver’s mirror. “Hey, Kat. Give me a Disney character.” The little girl was confused, “Why?” “Just give me one, I need a name.” “Anyone?” “Anyone.” “Uuuuum….hm…oh! Belle!” Beauty and the Beast soundtrack it was, then. ——————— “I mean, teeeeechnically, no? With the blue thing, yes, I can definitely see, but watermelon, strawberry, and bubblegum aren’t the same color, nor do they tend to be. Watermelon’s lighter than strawberry, but darker than bubblegum. Bubblegum’s more vibrant and strawberry’s more…um..solid. Yeah, solid! Like it just kinda punches you in the arm.” Charlotte had to snicker at the description. “Sounds like you’re an expert on candy, kiddo.” “See, the dentist says the same thing! You an’ them talkin’ about me when you get your teeth cleaned or somethin’?”- Part of her wanted to sing along while another part wanted to talk to the people she hadn’t seen in person for several months. Unable to decide, she simply stayed quiet, occasionally stealing a quick glance over at J.C. Gosh, he was handsome~ — Her knowledge on candy was almost impressive. Almost. She seemed limited to the coloring. “Not with their hands in her mouth, I’d imagine.” - Inititally, the man’s plan was to put on something that the two of them (three, if Kat was so inclined to do) could sing along too, but it had been so long since he and Audrey had seen each other in person. …Hmmm…compromise? Have the music going, but as some light background noise. He pressed play, but keep the volume at a slightly low level- not too loud to where they had to be shouting over the music to talk, and not too quiet to where it wasn’t like there was any music at all. Besides, if something came on that they wanted to belt, he was manning the iPod, after all~ —– “I mean, you still kinda can?” Syd hooked a finger into the other side of her mouth, “ ‘Ihth cannah hah, doe’. (”It’s kinda hard, though”)”- Audrey couldn’t stay quiet for too long before she felt the urge to speak. “I’m really glad you could make it,” she smiled, keeping her eyes on the road. She purposely phrased her statement to either mean J.C. by himself or his family in general. If things went well this visit, she planned to ask J.C. if they may become more than friends. She’d developed a crush over the time they’d talked and she had a suspicion he felt the same, but she wanted to get a little more time in person before she made her decision. Her phrasing was meant to be a little hint, but she didn’t want to flat out ask just yet, or while they weren’t alone. “I’ve been looking forward to your visit for a long time.” — Edward exhaled through his nose in a slight laugh. Kids really were something, weren’t they? Sure, he saw plenty of kids over the years, be it his family or the people they babysat, but they were all different and had their moments of entertainment. “And I’m sure you can have deep, meaningful conversations that way,” he replied jokingly. - Thankfully, Kat seemed to be focusing in on the music a little more that her brother and Audrey (aaaand sort of starting to drift off again. She was a sleepy kiddo)…so J.C’s face only managed to go a light shade of pink, as opposed to a few shades darker, as when Syd would be instigating. “I, ah…I’ve been too.” he said, grinning like a goofball, “Chatting over the web is nice and all, but seeing your face, up close and in person as opposed to through a webcam, is a welcome sight.” The more “goofy” smile soon settled into a genuinely content one as he got a look into her eyes. “I have, too. I’ve missed you.” ———————– “Ve-ee muh sah! (Very much so!)”, replied Syd. Mr. D. was cool, he seemed to get it.- At a traffic light, Audrey glimpsed into the rear view mirror to see Kat dozing off. Seemed they had some alone time after all… sort of. She looked over at him, smiling softly. “Me too.” Turning her attention back to the road, she continued. “I feel like we’ve gotten pretty close, even with the distance between us. Lola sure did make a good choice with you,” she chuckled, blushing a bit. “I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you again.” — Another exhale through his nose. Syd didn’t understand sarcasm much, did she? Not that it mattered too much. As long as she was happy and not making trouble. - J.C. chuckled, “I suppose she did. Guess that thing about babies and animals being able to tell if someone is a good person or not has some merit to it…aaand I also guess I should prepare myself for the licking of a lifetime.” Not that he minded; happy dogs were always a good thing. “I am, too. It makes the times where we can see each other in person all the more special.”- Audrey chuckled at his mention of the licking of a lifetime. “Even so, I hope we don’t have to wait too long until the next visit. I’m sure we could find a way to make the times together special, even without a bunch of time between them.” - “Perhaps we should start planning right away.” he joked, “Buuuut that would be boring to do right out of the gate. Fun first, planning later. Y’know, besides planning on stuff to do for this visit.” - She nodded. “Oh, I have plenty in mind~ Plus, since I wake up early, I should be able to match your internal clocks pretty well! I can’t vouch for the rest of my family though,” she chuckled. “Not that they wake up particularly late or anything. I just naturally wake up earlier than most. Lots of natural energy, I guess. It works, though; given caffeine gives me the jitters.” - “Same with mine. Syd and Mum are fairly late sleepers, Kat’s somewhere in the middle, Dad’s fairly early…I can go either way. If I’ve got to be up for something important the next morning, I’ll be up.” He thought for a second, chuckling nervously. “I, uh…guess you could call that a warning? In regards to ‘morning Syd’, I suppose. May take a couple days, if you factor in jet lag.”- “A warning?” she blinked. “What do you mean? If she wakes up late your time, it would be early-ish my time. I already wake up early. Or did you mean she’d be cranky? She can sleep in plenty here, given we’re so many hours earlier…” - “Cranky with a capital ‘C’. Buuuuuuut that’s true. Didn’t exactly factor that in.” he chuckled again, “Maybe that’s my jet lag talking.” Smooth, J.C., smooth.- “Ahh. Yeah, I suppose it is pretty late for you guys. Thankfully, you don’t have to meet a bunch of people when we get there. Mom is the only one. My aunts, uncles, and cousins don’t all get together until Christmas day. That being said, we may have a few visits beforehand, but, I don’t know for sure.” - J.C. let out a playfully dramatic sigh of relief and slumped a bit in his seat, “Oh, thank goodness!” Laughing a little bit before straightened himself back up, he gave Audrey a smile. “Hey, ta famille est ma famille. The more the merrier.”- Audrey snickered at his reaction, catching him in the periphery of her vision. If things went Audrey’s way, her family may very well be his family as well, one day. “Glad you think so. Things will be pretty crowded Christmas Day. It may seem a bit chaotic, but we do have a system of sorts in place; including a quiet room for those feeling overwhelmed. It was something we came up with for Adelyn years ago, but it’s proved to be quite helpful for all of us.” - J.C gave her a nod. “It definitely sounds like it. We have something similar whenever we have guests over…no real specific room, though, it either ends up being the loft or my room.” He thought for a second. “…It’s either the ‘quiet room’ or the ‘older cousin’ retreat; really depends on who’s over and what’s going on.”- Audrey nodded as well. Some time later, they made it to her parents’ home. “Should we wake Kat or just carry her?” - “Mmmmmm, let’s check…” He turned around, having to hold back a snicker at how she looked. “Kaaaaat…” The eight year old made a small noise of acknowledgement. “Hey, kiddo; we made it.” The little blonde’s eyes fluttered open as she began to stretch like a kitten. Shaking her head a bit, as to get that last bit of sleep out of her, she unbuckled herself and hopped out of the car. “Yay! Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!”- “Well, that works,” Audrey chuckled as she got out of the car herself and headed to open the trunk to help bring in the luggage. Edward was doing the same in the garage, having arrived shortly before his daughter did. The barking of two dogs could be heard coming from inside, accompanied by a woman’s voice softly shushing them. “You think they know we’re home?” Audrey joked to whoever was listening. - If they didn’t, the sound of two “PUPPY!!”s (one from Kat, the other from Syd, inside with Roger, Charlotte, and Edward) definitely gave it away. “Gee, I don’t know.” J.C. joked back. Kat had started to make her way towards the door, but was quickly stopped by an “Ah, ah! You’ve got some luggage here too, munchkin. Please don’t leave all the work to us, yeah?” “Right, right!” the eight year old turned back around and retrieved her bag. J.C. gave her a pat on the shoulder as a sort of “Thank you for listening.” gesture.- Audrey chuckled and shook her head. Those kids were quite excitable, weren’t they? As they made their way inside the house with the first batch of luggage, the two dogs, Daisy and Lola, were quick to greet them. They were no longer barking and were instead running around everyone’s legs and sniffing them, tails wagging excitedly. Mrs. Davis chuckled as the scene unfolded. Seemed that’s where Audrey got her laugh from. - Upon entering and seeing the dogs, J.C. engaged what he called his “doggo voice”; all excited and goofy. “Oh yes, hellooooo! Heh-heh-heh-hellooooo. D’you remember me? Eh? Hello, babiiiies~Oh, such good pups, yes. Yeeeh-heh-heh-hes; ALL the pets will be yours.” When he realized that Mrs. Davis was there (rather, when he heard her), he turned a light shade of pink and chuckled. “Uuuum…hiya, Mrs. D. Happy, er…happy hols!”- Abbey didn’t think any less of J.C. for fawning over the dogs. She did laugh though (as did Audrey), as it was quite a silly voice. “Happy hols,” she replied with a smile, assuming hols was short for holidays. “I’ll show you to your rooms while Eddy and Audrey get the rest of your things.” She looked over at the two. “Assuming there’s more.” Audrey laughed and nodded her head. There was no way they could get five people’s worth of luggage and the gifts in one go. - “Haha, yeah.” J.C. added, “I’d said we didn’t need to pack THAT much, but…” “We had to factor in the snow!” Kat piped up, catching up to her brother, “Speakin’ of, how come there’s none? Snow, I mean.” - “Oh, you know how it is when you plan for there to be snow,” Abbey sighed. “It’s snowed a few times, but it hasn’t really stuck around yet. However, we’re supposed to be getting a lot of snow over the next few days.” “Yippee,” Edward remarked sarcastically as he headed back out for more luggage. “Dad doesn’t like having to clear the snow,” Audrey informed as she followed after. Abbey proceeded to lead the group to their rooms, the dogs following excitedly. “Syd and Kat, you’ll be staying with Audrey,” she informed, standing in front of Audrey’s old bedroom. While Audrey would always be welcome in her parents’ home, her room had been adjusted to allow for guests as well. There was a sliding divider in the middle of the room, allowing for privacy, when desired. Audrey had a real bed while Syd and Kat would share a large inflatable mattress. - At the mention of the word “lots”, Syd and Kat’s smiles grew wide. At the mention of sharing a room with Audrey, the smiles were even wider. Noticing that there were only two beds in the roo, and three of them, the smiles started to fade juuuuust a tad. J.C. internally cringed, readying himself to split up a fight between the two. It was through no fault of the Davises, though. Besides, one large mattress could easily fit two people! Just so long as those two people could actually share it. “I want the left side!” Kat called out, running over with her stuff and placing it on the desired side. “I was going to sleep on the left side!” Syd moaned, trailing behind. “Well, I called it out first, so I get it.” Kat responded, unzipping a bag and placing one of her stuffed animals on it. About ready to launch the toy at her sister’s head, Syd stopped; her inner “naughty/nice” conflict going again. Her hand slipped back towards her own bag before speaking. “…Hoooow abooooout…yooooou get it tonight, I get it tomorrow, and we keep switching off?” Kat hesitated for a minute, a bit surprised at her sister. “Uuuuuummm….sure!” J.C. blinked in surprise while Charlotte and Roger smiled approvingly.- Abbey wasn’t sure the significance of the left side of the mattress, but it was good they sorted it out. The dogs sniffed at the stuffed animal before looking to Abbey for permission. “No, no.” Abbey wagged her finger. “Not a doggy toy. Doggy toys are in the box. Go get one of your toys. Go on~” The dogs did as instructed and left the room to search for a good toy in the doggy toy box. - Kat had stiffened a bit, unsure of what the dogs were about to do. Unlike her sister, her stuffed animals had never fallen victim to an animal or were otherwise treated roughly (Syd, of course, loved her stuffed animals to bits; she just felt that they were strong enough to deal with a bit of rough and tumble. Not that she purposefully went out of her way to rough them up, of course). When Abbey redirected the dogs, though, she relaxed. “Make sure to pick a good one!” Syd jokingly added as the dogs left.- Abbey proceeded to lead the rest of the Malones to their room as the girls adjusted to their new surroundings. Like Audrey’s room, the adults’ room had a divider. There was a king size bed for the parents and an inflatable mattress for J.C. “If you’d rather not sleep in the same room as your parents, our couch does double as a bed,” Abbey offered. Meanwhile, the two dogs returned to where they’d last seen Abbey, Audrey’s room. They squeaked their toys eagerly, looking at the sisters. - J.C. chuckled, “Duly noted. I have no issue with sharing a room with them. I vaguely remember the first few months or so with living with them, having my own little cot in their room.” He paused, “…Graaaanted, I was a toddler, but…d-duly noted.” Hearing the squeaks of the dog toys, Syd and Kat turned to see the dogs. The redhead gasped excitedly, as she did with most animals, in an attempt to get them all playful. “Oh! Neat toys! We have some too, but ours don’t squeak. Wanna play?”- Abbey smiled and nodded. “Whichever you prefer. I’ll leave you be so you can settle in. Be sure to drop by the kitchen when you’re done though. We made cookies~ We’re also planning hot cocoa, if you’re up to having some. It really is best when it’s fresh.” Syd didn’t have to do much to get the dogs excited. Daisy and Lola both approached Syd, dropping their toys at her feet and looking up at her expectantly. - Ooooo, cookies~ Never something that the man passed up. He gave the mother a smile and a nod. “Will do~” The dogs didn’t have to do much to get Syd excited, either. The girl placed her own toy on the bed and grabbed both dog’s toys, and started to hype them up. When she felt they were riled up enough, she threw her arms back, then tossed their toys, yelling “GO LONG!”- The dogs bounded for their toys, quickly bringing them back and squeaking them eagerly. Given the energy of both Syd and the dogs, they could easily go all night with the games of fetch and tug-of-war. Thankfully, for those who didn’t want to hear squeaking all night, after several rounds, Audrey interrupted as she brought the rest of their luggage upstairs. “Hey, you two~” she grinned at the two girls. “Did Mom tell you we have cookies downstairs? We’re gonna make hot cocoa too, once we know how much to make~” - As if they were dogs themselves, Syd and Kat’s faces and ears perked up excitedly. Cookies and hot cocoa? Always a great combo. Especially if they could add aaaaaaall sorts of sweet stuff to the cocoa- whipped cream, caramel or butterscotch drizzle, mini marshmallows, a peppermint stick if they were feeling reeeeeally fancy…the kids’ teeth were already rotting with cavities at the thought of it. “She didn’t!” Kat piped up, “What kinda bikkies?” “Who cares what kind? Bikkies are bikkies!” Syd said excitedly, dropping one of the dog’s toys. She briefly stopped when a thought occured to her. “…They’re not oatmeal raisin, are they?”- Audrey couldn’t help but giggle. Seeing them so excited just made her giddy. “Nooo no. I did my research before you got here, so I knew not to make those,” she chirped. “We have two kinds; granted, one is oatmeal, but not with raisins. It has cranberries, walnuts, and white choocoolaaate~” She chuckled once more. “We also have iced gingerbread. We also also have lots of extras for the hot cocoa that you can choose from; butterscotch, caramel, marshmallows, whipped cream, chocolate chips, peppermint, all kinds of good stuff! We make it from scratch too! When we make sweets, we go all out!” - Syd practically melted into Audrey at the mention of going all out with sweets. “Listen. Auds. If I haven’t told you already, I love you. As much as J.C. loves you, if not more.” “You’re just sayin’ that cuz’a the sweets.” Kat scoffed lightly. “Nuh-uh! The sweets are an added bonus! She’s like a sister t’ me!” Kat rolled her eyes and smirked slightly, “Let’s go an’ make ours!” Syd popped up immediately and started to take off, yelling “RACE YA!”.- Audrey tittered, wrapping one arm around Syd. “I love you too, kiddo.” She might have questioned what Syd meant by J.C. loving her, but figured that was more a question for J.C. himself. “Up-bup-bup-bup-bup!” Audrey grabbed Syd by the back of the shirt and reeled her back. “No racing down the stairs. It won’t be a very fun Christmas if you’re stuck in a cast. Besides, we still have to make the cocoa.” Letting Syd go, she continued. “Cookies are ready though. So, if you can carefully make your way downstairs, you’re both welcome to have some.” With that, Audrey left to check the room J.C. and his parents were staying in, knocking on the door, regardless of whether or not it was closed. - The little redhead let out a small “HURK!” of surprise (despite not being choked by her shirt) as she was reeled back in. “But…! But…! But…! The faster I get down there, then…the more cookies I can have!” “You have to save some for other people, ya know.” Kat piped up. “ ‘Sides, if you hog all of ‘em and don’t listen to Audrey, that’ll be evidence for gettin’ you on the naughty list.” Despite wanting to yell in frustration, Syd took a deep breath in and slowly, but somewhat painfully, released it. “Ooooookaaaaaaaaaaaay.” This time, Kat took the lead as they made their way towards the stairs, saying something about pretending to walk down them as if she were royalty. Meanwhile, J.C. had gotten a moment to himself, as Charlotte and Roger had made their way to be with Mr. and Mrs. Davis. Upon hearing a knock, his head perked up. Seeing it was Audrey, he gave her a smile. “Hey, what’s up?”- Audrey looked from side to side, then back to J.C. Seemed he was alone, or rather, they were alone. She returned his smile, mouth closed, but wide enough to be seen in her eyes. “I was just checking to see if you all knew about the treats downstairs,” she strolled over and sat down near him, enjoying the brief alone time they had in the moment. “Had to stop Syd from sprinting down the stairs when I told her,” she giggled. “I’m guessing your parents are talking to my parents?” - He nodded in response to her question. “Yeah; figured they could do more unpacking later. Get some of the basics or immediate necessities out first, then work on the rest of it later.” At the mention of Syd…well, being Syd, he chuckled and shook his head. “Of course. Treats, eh? I could use a couple myself…of course, I’ve…ah, got one hangin’ out with me already, but ah…” His cheeks turned a light shade of pink at his little comment. “You want to get some? Th-the treats, I mean.”- Audrey giggled, going pink as well. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, revealing her ears also turned pink when she blushed. “In a little bit. I was hoping to talk to you a little while we have a moment alone. Your sister said something interesting earlier.” She exhaled through her nose in a slight laugh, moving her gaze to the floor. “She said she loved me just as much as you do, if not more. What do you think she meant by that?” Her eyes rose to meet his, her expression a mix of coy and bashful. She had initially intended to have this conversation later, but, seeing as they’d only have so much time alone and with Syd’s comment giving her a little boost of confidence in the situation, she figured they could talk now. - The young man’s cheeks went a further shade of pink, letting out a somewhat goofy-sounding giggle. Whether that was from thinking that Audrey was as cute as a kitten in a little hat or that was just the feeling he got whenever she was around was uncertain. Probably both, in all honesty. “Weeeeeeeeeell, I meaaaaan….that’s kiiiind of self explanatory. I do love you, of course. Hmm, maybe I don’t need those treats, ‘cos you’re already sweet enough. And pretty smart. Aaaand beautiful…” - “Oh gosh,” she rested her red cheek in her hand, giggling bashfully. “I love you too. You’re so sweet I could get a toothache. I know we’ve only spent so much time together in person, but, what do you think about… you know, being something other than friends?” She exhaled through her nose in a slight laugh. “Could be a nice Christmas present.” - ‘Something other than…’ Oh. Oh. OOOOOOOH! Lord, if his heart wasn’t pounding before, it sure as heck was now. “Iiiiiiiiiiii’m not against it.” he replied, a genuinely sweet smile sprawled across his face. “What did you have in mind?”- “You’re really making me spell it out, aren’t you?” she chuckled nervously. “I’m interested in you romantically and, unless I’ve been reading you wrong these past months, I think you are too. I was thinking, you know, boyfriend/girlfriend?” Audrey gave him a sheepish smile, showing those prominent front teeth of hers. “If that’s okay with you.” - If this were a movie, a stadium full of people would’ve cheered, fireworks would’ve exploded, and the chorus to Händel’s Messiah would’ve been playing in the background. J.C. couldn’t tell whether his heart was beating at an exponentially increasing speed or whether it had stopped altogether. His normally goofy smile had morphed more into a genuine, sentimental one. Walking over, and putting one of his hands on Audrey’s, his hazels met her greens and he gave her a nod. “I’d like that very much.”- Feeling giddy and needing to release some tension, Audrey couldn’t help but giggle. “Then it’s settled,” she chirped as she rested her head on his shoulder. “We are officially a couple~” She’d been worried about how this conversation would go and it was a relief to get it out of the way. Letting out a content sigh, she allowed herself to enjoy this moment with her now boyfriend. It was nice to finally be with him, in both the dating sense and the physical sense. Even without them really doing anything, she was happy. Just being in the same room with him was enough. A light chuckle left her lips. “I wonder how long it’ll take the others to wonder what we’re doing.” - Heeheeheeheeheeheehee, “couple”~ He had to admit, it had a nice ring to it. He chuckled as well, “Oh, you know how it goes. We’ll be here, ready to spill our guts out over something, kiss, or embrace each other in a sort of bear hug, and then someone will end up showing up. …Oooooor there’s a combination of a small crash, an ‘I didn’t do it!’, and a ‘I’m telling!’, and some resulting general kerfuffle.” He smirked a bit, “Buuuuut, seeing as it’s the holidays and Syd and Kat really try hard to be good around this time of year, I’m shooting more towards the former.”- “I don’t know about you, but I’d rather keep my guts on the inside,” she joked. “And we did have a bear hug earlier, so, how aboouuuut~?” Audrey proceeded to bring her finger under his chin and bring his face a tad closer to hers. “Hm~?” - J.C. gave her a sort of “Austin Powers” kind of smirk before chuckling a taaaad bit deviously. “Well, if you insist~” Slowly and gently, the young man brought his lips to hers; a state of pure bliss coming over him and a serene expression on his face.- While it was tempting to lock lips forever, Audrey thought it best to start slow. They did just now establish their relationship, after all. After a few seconds, she pulled away, content. “Is it bad I’d been wanting to do that for ages?” she chuckled sheepishly. - Short and sweet, always a good way to start. Reading her body language, he pulled away when she did. “Don’t worry, s-so have I.” he admitted, sheepishly.Cue a young sounding “Aaaaaaw~!” coming from the doorway. - Audrey bolted upright at the sound of Kat’s cooing. They weren’t doing anything wrong, of course, but it was still a private moment. It was a bit startling to be ‘caught.’ “H-how long have you been standing there, sweetie?” Audrey smiled a bit sheepishly, face pink. - “Not very.” she answered, taking a bite of her cookie, “Maybe abooooooout….halfway into the kiss? If you want, I can leave again, so you two can get back to it.” J.C. smiled and blew a bit of air out of his nose. “It’s alright, munchkin. Just give us a bit more warning next time, alright? Knock or something.” “ ‘Kaaaaaay. You guys wanna get some of those bikkies? They’re nuuuuuuuummmyyyyyyyy~” - “In her defense, I left the door open,” she gave J.C. an apologetic smile. “Didn’t really think ahead on that one.” Audrey stood and turned back to Kat. “I’m glad you like them~ Mom and I made them from scratch! I think we’ll mosey on down and get some ourselves. Whatcha think?” she asked, turning to J.C.- “Yeah, J.C.! They’re super nummy! ‘Sides, Syd might eat all of ‘em if you’re don’t hurry up.” “I doubt it; Syd eating them all, I mean.” Cue an eyebrow raise. “Ooooo, made-from-scratch biscuits. Always the best kind!” J.C. clapped his hands together and stood up, looking to Audrey. “Shall we?”- “I just asked you!” Audrey giggled and took his hand, leading him downstairs. “Thanks for checking on us, Kat,” she chirped as they made their way past her. - “And I just asked you. So now we’re even~” the young man joked. He gave his youngest sister a pat on the head as he and Audrey made their way over. - “You are such a dork,” Audrey scoffed, shaking her head with a smile. Soon, the new couple were downstairs with the rest of their respective families. Audrey let go of J.C.’s hand in favor of grabbing a cookie and helping her mother with the hot cocoa. Both parents caught a glimpse of their hand holding, but decided not to mention it, for now. Instead, Abbey continued cooking while Edward reached for a jar labeled ‘Dog Treats.’ “Now that we’ve had our treats,” Edward looked over to Syd and Kat, “would you like to give the dogs’ theirs?” The father held out the jar for them to pick out a treat for each dog. They seemed to be homemade. Yes, those dogs are spoiled rotten. -

#RP: Winter Wonderland #muse: Audrey Davis #redradandrod #roleplay #compiled roleplay

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unicyclehippo · 7 years

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oh gosh PLEASE expand the accidental marriage AU PLEASE. it's so good PLS

they say that rao created the suns and stars and planets to keep him company, that he loved his creations for their beauty and order so much that he made krypton, and its people, to delight in it with him. they said—they said—he was so pleased with his children that he gave to them everything he had: wisdom, and passion, and strength, and intelligence, and within all of these gifts, his love.

she knows rao made order. a delicate, incredible dance. that rao set the rules of it all and made the music and the room to dance in, and the costumes, and the decorations, and the love and rhythm of their heartbeats—all of that, everything that exists, and somehow he couldn’t account for his tiny children running amok. couldn’t account for them making up their own rules, or for their countless missteps.

there was a stretch of time—a considerable stretch indeed—when kara hated him. because if rao had brought order to the universe, he missed a step. didn’t look far enough ahead to consider the end of his jewel, his love, his krypton.

kara read a lot when she came to earth, about religions and gods, both the divine and the fallible, but mostly she read about people. she was only thirteen when krypton—when it happened—but she remembers the quick thrum of her mothers pulse, fearful, and the way her father smiled at her with so much love in his eyes it burned, like he knew it was the last thing he would ever get to do and he wanted it to leave some kind of mark. well, it was, and it did. and she thinks a lot about choice and self and people and how it might have been easier for her if she hadn’t seen them right there. right next to her. how it still felt cruel to have seen them, and to have been made to leave them.

and the what ifs, that loud, endless wave of what ifs: what if one of them had gone with baby kal, what if they had made those stupid, stupid pods with room for two, what if her mother had never sent astra to the phantom zone, if non had never killed a guard, if kara had never called astra home, if someone had spoken up sooner, louder, more insistently, if her mother had just agreed to try, if generations ago the house of el had never even been formed—and everything stacks up on everything that came before and kara gets lost in it.

but there’s no point. there’s no point, because krypton is dead and left far behind, and that’s where it will stay.

all that remains of krypton is a fortress of toy relics, a man with her blood but the heart of a human, and shards of her dead planet. and her, still her. and there is no point in hating a god who died with the rest of her world.

years later, standing on the roof of national city’s tallest building—which isn’t catco, as much as cat might like to think it is—she hates him again.

the rain is so cold even she is shivering. head tilted up to the sky, she doesn’t both wiping away the torrent drenching her face, her hair. her cape drags heavy on her shoulders, a sopping weight, and she whips it to the side when it tangles around her ankle. the move flicks water off it like a spray of diamonds, shattering against the concrete where the rest of the water, the rest of the world, trembles at her step. she paces the roof of the building, eyes fixed on some distant point, the heart of the storm.

there comes a sound that only she can hear, and she pauses at the corner of the building. poised there, lightning cracks and illuminates her against the backdrop of a broiling, immense storm. it cloaks the whole city in shadow, clings to everything with its misted tendrils, and she is no exception. she would be engulfed in it, but for the power gathered behind her eyes—white-hot and furious.

and when the thunder drums again, like a call to war, kara’s edges are sharp enough to be a war all by herself.

lightning cracks the sky wide open. thunder follows it instantly in a boom. the wind that comes tearing flings back kara’s hair, her cape, shudders against the windows stories far below her feet.

kara clenches her jaw, braces herself against it. her eyes flash hotter.

she saw diana catch lightning in her hands once, knows better than most that many things in the world are more than they are given credit for. this storm is more than crashing particles—this is her challenge, her fight, and by everything that exists in this world, rao will hear her!

“DUAHZ VOIEHD KRYPTAHNIUM,” she yells up to the clouds.

the thunder rolls. grumbles, shatters into itself.

“TA-RRIV RRAOP-RAO RAOGRYHS PAHDH IRSTUN OSH KHAP!”

she gets no answer save the lightning that zips down toward her and kara’s eyes flash. she grits her teeth around a scream and launches herself right at it, catches it on the bands diana gifted her and doesn’t stop, punches right up through the clouds to the heart of the storm. she winds the lightning around her, grips it tight.

“rao,” she yells, voice dragged raw.

the wind is stronger here and it whips her hair across her face, stinging, and everything tastes like hot metal and salt water. she holds tight to the lightning just to feel it burn. feels the answering sting in a line down her chest, sternum to navel. “rao, ta-rriv rraop-rao pahdh voiehd? khap eiahm,” she whispers. the words are tugged from her, ripped from her lips. she wills it out, up, to the right ears. the right heart. “khap eiahm, ewuhsh gehd.”

1. a formal introduction; or, skulir: verb, the active form: to look, to examine.

kara is six years old when she finds out that she will have a husband. she considers it for two days, silently, before bringing it up to anyone.

a tall figure in blue—that’s all kara can see under her thin blanket—stands in the doorway of her bedroom. “your mother says you’re not well. do you want to come out from under that blanket?”

“no.”

“no?” the bed creaks as she sits on kara’s bed. “then perhaps i shall sit here with you. is that alright?” kara murmurs her assent, scoots over a little to make space in the bed. “i brought your stars, little one. are you sure you don’t want to see them? we were only partway through the primaries.” astra waits a moment for kara’s response. when it doesn’t come immediately, she offers, “you may hold the star jar, if you wish.”

kara kicks her feet under the blanket as she considers that.

finally, she pulls down the covers. “just the stars?” she asks, fixing her aunt with a suspicious look.

astra leans over, presses a kiss to her forehead. “just the stars,” she promises, and kara rolls around in her bed, bundles the blankets around herself, and thumps down into astra’s lap. her aunt pulls her close, strokes her hair back from her forehead.

“there is my darling star,” she murmurs. she activates the holo-reader—kara’s ‘star jar’—and scatters the stars across the ceiling. once it’s active, she allows kara to hold it in her little hands.

kara stays there, tucked up into astra, listening to her explaining the primary stars and astra cards her fingers down her long hair until kara’s nervous gut unclenches and she asks what has been bothering her.

“does everyone get married?”

astra’s voice falters, and then stops. she looks down at her niece, bemused by the topic change. “married?”

“fardhogh-cheh says that everyone gets married. that parents pick someone and then you have to spend your whole life with them.”

“did he put it like that?” astra crooks a finger under kara’s chin, tilts it up to look at her. “hmm, little one?” she tickles under kara’s chin and astra’s eyes, so clear and fond, are brighter than rao’s midday light. kara cuddles into her, ducks her head again. “have you been concerned about this?”

“...no.”

astra tickles at kara’s shoulder, makes her squirm. “for how long?”

“…two days.”

“i see. you do like to keep things to yourself, don’t you, little one?” kara shrugs. “well, it is nothing to be concerned about. marriage is a union between families.”

“who will it be?”

“he will be of good standing—”

“will he be nice?” kara asks, and with it comes the flood of questions that have blinded her for the last few days. “do i know them? how long do i have? what happens? do i have to get married? do i get to choose him? why do i have to get married? what does it do? is it scary?”

“these are a lot of questions.”

“i have a lot of questions,” kara agrees quietly.

“a curious mind can be dangerous, little one,”

“questions are good!” she argues, struggles to sit up and away, and astra nods. she helps kara, tries not to laugh at the bundle of a girl who wriggles away, irate at the suggestion that questions might not be a good thing.

“always. but you should share them with your family or else you may get lost in them.” astra strokes down her cheek. “and i would not like that.”

“oh.” kara waits a moment. “so?”

astra glances away, tries not to smile. “your betrothed,” she tells her niece, “will be chosen by your family, we who love you. we will not let you be bonded to someone unworthy, not when you are more precious to us than all else.”

“but what’s the point?”

“marriage is a union. do you know of shokh?”

“truth,” kara nods impatiently. “the first virtue.”

“the primary virtue, yes, on which we base all dealings. shokh is the virtue all unions are based on. a family would never agree to a union without first knowing who their beloved shall be bonded to, just as one would never agree to an alliance or business without knowing who extends their hand. it is a virtue that persists throughout a union—shokh is constant. unwavering. it is about learning and knowledge and discovery. sharing.” she hugs kara to her, strokes her hair again, out of her thoughtful eyes. “does that make sense, little one?”

“yes. but,” kara smiles, a little shy, when astra laughs. “i have more questions.”

��of course you do. share them with me,” she encourages, sets the star field aside for another night.

alura joins them later, knocking gently on kara’s bedroom door. she peeks in, relaxes against the door when she sees them curled there.

“you are feeling better then, kara?” kara nods—sheepish, small in her aunt’s arms, but she nods. “i’m so glad. you’ve had us worried. we had to call in reinforcements.”

“reinforcements?” kara sits up quickly, looks back over her shoulder at her aunt. “you’re reinforcements?”

astra laughs, throws her head back. “your parents were worried.” she lets kara go when she wriggles away from her, goes to stand defiant in the centre of the room, her little frown stern and her little arms crossed. “do not be displeased with me, little one.”

kara considers the request for a time, before she flicks her hair back over her shoulders and walks out of the room. she makes her way out of their home and down the long corridor before loud steps follow her and she breaks into a run before zor-el plucks her clean off the ground and carries her home.

“i’m mad at you.”

“it was your mother’s idea,” he tells her, in that low rumble of a voice she loves so much. she leans back into his chest—but keeps her arms folded to show her displeasure.

“zor-el!” alura is waiting for them at the doorway to their quarters and she shoots him an unamused look before she cups kara’s face, drags her thumbs over her cheeks. “we were worried,” she tells kara. when her daughter just pouts, she nods for zor-el to take her to the table. they sit her at the table and kara swings her little feet, plops her chin down on the edge. alura turns to her sister. “astra, will you join us?”

“if the little one will have me,” she agrees, and kara huffs but doesn’t disagree. she’s pretty sure she doesn’t get to disagree—astra sounds far too amused for kara to have any real say in the matter.

it’s alura’s night to cook and kara waits to be served. her little feet swing under the chair and she holds her cutlery in a clumsy fist, prods at the food in front of her.

finally, she heaves a great sigh.

“who will you choose for me?”

her father looks up from his comms, peers across at her. “choose for what?”

“to be my husband.” she pouts a little, bottom lip jutting out with a stubborn, stubborn chin. “if he’s not nice, i’m not gonna say yes.”

“he’ll be nice, my sweet,” her mother laughs. kara frowns over at her and alura reaches out, draws a finger down the crinkle in her forehead. “why are you so distraught? he will be your companion, your most trusted friend.”

“because of truth?” kara rolls her eyes, plops her fork in her food, swirls it around. “what about…love?” she stumbles over the word a little. it’s not said often. she’s only heard it twice before; her aunt and uncle, in love, and once by her tutor when kara asked him to explain it.

“love?” zor-el blinks twice before he smiles at his wife, and astra. “you have a few years before we’ll start looking. at least two.”

“zor-el!”

“i’m joking, i’m joking!” to kara, whose pouting has doubled, he smiles, leans down to press a kiss against her soft, sweet-smelling hair. “if you find someone,” he tells her, “let us know.”

she wears her outfit like armour, black and red, and her smile is like a serpent—quick and striking.

kara knows who she is—she wasn’t allowed out of the house the day alex found out that lena luthor had moved to national city—but it’s not the same as standing in front of her. which she only gets to do for a split second because lena luthor moves surprisingly quickly in her heels.

“i won’t ask how you got to this level without an escort,” she says with that smile again, “if you promise to make this quick. i’ve a meeting in fifteen minutes, one i really can not miss.”

her eyes linger on kara longer than clark.

“i know what you’re here for,” she says, and she flicks her hair back over her shoulders with a quick gesture. strides into her office—kara glances around at the sleek modern lines, the white, the small touches of any life. this isn’t an office to relax in, this isn’t a place to hide in. she follows the lines back to lena. “you’re here to find out why i wasn’t aboard the venture yesterday.”

she doesn’t give an inch the entire conversation—only stumbles over her words once when she looks at kara again, curious, and this time kara is able to catch the look, to hold her gaze, and then kara gets to introduce herself.

it’s…clumsy.

clumsy is really the only word for it. she stumbles over her words and it’s not polished or smart—and it makes probably the worst impression for catco not to mention herself—but lena listens before throwing out a little tidbit clark’s way.

kara can’t get a firm idea on who she is though—clark thinks he knows, clark always thinks he knows, but kara waits and waits and then lena is looking right at her and that’s the moment. she looks her dead in the eyes and it’s the chink in the armour: “i’m just a woman trying to make a name for herself outside her family”, lena tells her, and when she asks if they can understand, kara says yes. before even thinking about it. it was just a glimpse but...she’s seen her.

she can’t stop seeing her.

she’s dynamic, and brilliant, and quick, and she’s built herself up again and kara isn’t able to recapture that moment—that moment when she’s sure, absolutely, of who she is seeing—but each time she gets close enough to open another door, it confirms what kara has already seen.

lena, who builds hospitals for children. who defies her mother. who works late into the night, who says she will change her company for good and follows through, who dares and pushes and fights, who has something sharp and fierce and dangerous inside her and keeps it locked up tight. someone who fills her office with flowers, who crosses into kara’s life briefly, gently, like she’s afraid she’ll be overstepping should she stay too long. someone who leans in and admits with a quirk of a laugh that she only has one friend, and kara wants to take her hand when lena’s eyes tell her not only that it’s true, but that she’s not sure she even has that many.

“oh my god,” lena whispers, and kara buckles under the weight of a truck for a split second before she stands—it’s not that it’s heavy, it’s really not at all, it’s just that she’s holding a truck in her hands and lena is standing two feet away and staring. “oh m-you’re her,” she breathes, and there’s something small and pained and shaky in her voice, in her eyes, and kara is afraid.

she’s afraid, standing in jeans and flats and her favourite bright yellow sweater and holding a truck over her head. her glasses are sitting askew on her nose, the woman she thinks is her best friend looks like she doesn’t recognise her, and the box of donuts she’d been holding is on the road. splattered.

she’ll hate you for it, lillian had said, and the words spread like ice from her sternum and out, freezing her chest and making her breath come brittle and sharp.

“lena,” she starts, and it snaps them both out of the frozen moment.

lena glances quickly around, hisses at kara to put the truck down.

kara catches it before it hits the ground, lowers it gently. she checks on the driver, who is unconscious, and with a nervous look lena’s way, kara lowers her glasses to check him over. because, what the hell, right? lena knows. lena knows. lena already knows so kara can use her x-ray vision around her and free him from the crumpled cabin where he had crashed before the truck careened toward them.

she lays him out on the pavement, calls the ambulance for him and, when she looks over at lena to decide on their next move, lena takes her by the hand and kara follows.

“lena,”

“don’t.”

kara bites down on her tongue all the way back to her apartment. her hands are shaking badly when she tries to unlock the door so lena does it for her, and kara opens and closes her hands but they still feel cold right to the tips.

lena shrugs out of her coat, hangs it on the hook. she drops her bag on the floor.

kara stands in the centre of her living room and closes her teeth around her tongue and- “look at me,” lena requests, and kara shakes all the way down her spine but lifts her chin and opens herself up for lena to see. to see her.

“lena,”

“it’s too late to say it was adrenaline,” lena tells her, voice thick. “or a doppelgänger. or whatever it is you’re about to say so just save it.”

“i wasn’t—i wasn’t going to make an excuse,” kara whispers. “i was just going to say t-that i’m sorry.”

lena purses her lips, pulls her brows into a harsh frown, but what makes it so, so bad is that kara can still see her. see how she’s doing it—letting herself get angry, get cold and harsh, because this whole thing is hurting her and it’s easier, better, less shitty to be cold, to be angry, than have someone you trust hurt you.

“what was it?” lena asks. kara makes a tiny sound of incomprehension. “what convinced you,” lena clarifies, voice so clear and steady, “of who i am? that i couldn’t be trusted?” kara blinks. “shall i guess?” she slaps her phone down on the counter, stalks over to closer to the door. she faces away from kara for a moment before spinning back around, a parody of a smile in place. “it was beth, wasn’t it? see, i thought that was too good to be true. you listening to me, holding me. i should have known you were hearing how easily i could become a true luthor.”

“lena, no,”

“or did i have no chance at all? dear lex,” she sneers, top lip curling. “my dear brother. he didn’t stand a chance, you know. not with lillian for a mother. that’s how it goes, isn’t it? we all become our parents? it’ll be me next, i suppose,” she laughs.

“stop it,” kara whispers. lena’s words are too prepared to be new. she’s showing more of herself to kara now than maybe she even knows. or maybe there’s no reason now to hold back these fears. or maybe it’s better to say them when lena knows they’ll hurt kara the most.

“stop?” she laughs, a brittle sound. “why? why should i? i saved the world with you!”

“i know.”

“but it doesn’t matter what i do, only what i become. and everyone’s made their mind up about that already.”

“no,” kara tells her, steps toward her.

lena steps quicker away, toward the kitchen to put the island between them. kara stops.

“i refuse to believe that is true,” she insists. “i see you, lena,”

“you and everyone else,”

“i see you! not your parents. not your brother. i see you.” lena scoffs. kara reaches out, not to lena since she won’t allow it, but presses her fingers to the hard wood of the counter. “we are not our parents. and you are not this cold, hard person you pretend to be! i won’t let you use that excuse!”

“excuse?” lena’s eyebrows shoot up.

“to leave! to give in, give up. whatever you want to do! i won’t let you, i will fight for you,”

“right,” she scoffs.

“you are my friend and i am not losing you over this,” kara insists, nods firmly.

“friends. a super and a luthor,”

“kara and lena,”

“oh please,”

“you please,” kara snaps, tries to mimic lena’s scoffing tone. she flings her hands up, frustrated. “stop making this into that.”

“we can’t escape it that easily, kara,” lena says, forcing more of that drawling edge into her tone in a way kara knows is supposed to make her feel stupid and childish and little. “we are what we are made to be—”

“then guess what,” kara bites out, narrows her eyes. “i’m a soldier. i’m a warrior, made only to follow orders. i was built. i was chosen specifically to be fast, and strong, and smart. the perfect soldier. that’s who i was made to be. or, or if i’m to become my parents like you think then guess what. my parents lied to their entire planet. my father built a bomb to kill everyone except for people like him. the one your mother found?” kara smiles, humourless.

lena stares, eyes dipping to that smile.

“he made that. and my mother? she cast judgement on her own sister and put her in the depths of space. it’s an awful place.” her voice dips, wavers. “there is no light there, and no hope. and my mother put her there to let her rot. my parents were proud and stupid and selfish,” kara tells her, and her voice shakes. she’s distantly aware that she’s crying but lena…lena can never let herself be soft, kara knows that about her, so she’ll do it for her. she’ll melt, she’ll cry, she’ll be soft, and give and give and give. she’ll do that, if that’s what needs to be done.

kara pulls on every scrap of el courage to push her shoulders back and do just that. keeps her eyes steadily on lena, open. she sniffs, wipes at her cheek, but doesn’t look away.

“they built a spaceship in secret and they saved me, but they lied to everyone there and let them all die. just to save me and my cousin.”

lena blinks.

her lipstick is a dark plum today. kara watches her hesitate, pull a corner of her bottom lip into her mouth and suck away some of the colour.

“and, and maybe i am going to be like them. but i want to believe that i will be their best qualities. we, kryptonians, we came from people who had forgotten how to love so much so that my cousin was the first natural born child in generations. i don’t understand how that can be,” she says quietly. her gaze goes a little fuzzy and, for a moment, she thinks she can see them standing there with lena in her kitchen. “they loved me so much that they did everything they could. every selfish, horrible, secret thing they had to do to save me. and my father was proud and protective and he made an awful ting in the defence of his planet and i won’t do what he did. but his decisions? i am the only one left who knows them, and i will bear that. because if i don’t, then maybe one day i will become that alien your mother is so afraid of. i am my parents child, but i will be me first. and i,” kara swallows. her eyelashes flutter and she finally closes her eyes, leans in against the corner of the kitchen island. presses the blunt edge of it against her palm. “i just wanted you to see her. me. not telling you was never, ever about you not being good enough, lena,” she insists. “i just wanted to be me.”

she thinks she hears lena sigh, hears the faintest “oh” escaping on the back of that breath, but when she opens her eyes lena still looks cold and unmoved. the longer lena stares, the more kara wants to pull away.

but she doesn’t. or can’t. not when she remembers lena curled into that couch telling her about a woman in prison she wants to kill, and about how afraid she is, and about the paths laid out ahead of her and how she’s paralysed. because down each path is more fear, or madness, or death, and she wants so desperately to pick the right path.

and kara remembers how lena had let kara hold her.

she sees her.

and lena stares right back. it hits her, in a lurching way that feels like falling without powers, that lena sees her too. sees someone.

kara desperately wants to know what lena sees, who she is to this woman. feels herself crack a little when she realises what she’s done. what she’s tried to hide, the secrets she’s laid out, whatever hope there was behind them, to pretend to be a person lena could like.

lena, who has had to live with artifice and secrets her whole life.

“i’m sorry,” she says into the silence, and lena jerks her chin up slightly. kara sags. lifts an exhausted hand up to her glasses, apparently still sitting askew. huh. she hadn’t noticed. “i’m so sorry. i just, i wanted,”

“what were their names?”

lena looks as surprised about the question as kara feels, if the way she plucks at her fingers means anything.

“names?”

“your parents.”

“oh. i,” kara blinks a few times, quickly. “alura, my mother. and zor-el, my father. and me, kara zor-el.”

lena nods. folds her arms over her stomach, nervous fingers clenching around her arms. “you took your fathers name.”

“we aren’t so different,” kara jokes, and lena’s lips quirk upward very, very slightly. “they would have liked you. intelligence was one of our most admired traits.”

lena doesn’t seem to know what to do with that, and kara doesn’t know what to do at all.

all the tension has seeped out of the moment, leaving the corners of the room hollow and making each breath and nervous step sound louder than they are. finally kara reaches up, shakes her hair out of its plait. tosses her glasses onto the couch. after a moment, she goes after the glasses and places them instead on the coffee table because she has twelve pairs of broken glasses as historical evidence that she’s going to forget they’re there and sit on them.

she runs her hands through her hair, plucking out the bobby pins.

“can i see?”

kara yelps, bobby pin yanking at her hair, surprised by the question. “huh?”

“the,” lena unfolds an arm, gestures toward kara who stands frozen. “the…i mean,” she laughs quick, nervous, eyes flick over kara like she’s suddenly realising she’s been fighting with a superpowered alien. “you held up a truck.”

“it was going to hit you.”

“you can fly.” there’s the slightest edge of hesitation, like lena is about to say screw this, it was adrenaline after all, and kara steps up into the air before she can. touches her fingers to the ceiling. floats back down. she’s not going back, she’s not running away from this. she can’t. not anymore.

“i can.”

“you saved my life.”

“you’ve saved mine too.”

“that’s true enough,” lena agrees, lips snaking into a satisfied smirk. kara is enraptured by the way her eyes soften, though. she feels her jaw drop open a little, can’t help it, and something shifts and settles in her chest.

kara shivers.

lena knows, finally. everything is out in the open.

lena sees her too. what she does with it now, kara doesn’t know, but after all this time...it’s a beginning.

#tagging my stories #accidental marriage fic #supergirl #supercorp #i know i said it was going to be a oneshot but it was getting out of control #& its silly to keep from posting the complete bits #anyway whatever pls enjoy #Anonymous

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overdrivels · 7 years

Note

Yay requests are open again! Could I request some Reader76 where Jack and reader were together before the fall and after all the shit goes down reader thinks Jack is dead and when the recall happens they meet again except reader doesnt recognize him as 76 and reader is all like "wow this 76 guy is such an ass i cant stand him who does he think he is!" and they constatly butt heads and general sassyness shananigans :3

Ravages of Time

“I can see you haven’t been sleeping, Jack.”

Soldier: 76 stiffens. He swears Ana’s skill as a sniper granted her the ability to see through steel itself. As though she could read his thoughts, she chuckles heartily.

“I can see it in your shoulders, you can’t fool this old eye.”

She takes her place beside him by the guardrails overlooking the sea on the Watchpoint. The sun is fast fading, heralding the end of a hectic day and the beginnings of another restless night.

Soldier: 76 sighs. “It shouldn’t have been like this,” he rasps, clearly pained.

Ana hums contemplatively, willing him to continue. The chilly breeze tousles their hair and its whistle fills the silence between them. Soldier: 76 takes in a breath, steeling himself for a story he isn’t sure he is ready to tell.

The man leans against the railing. “It was my fault. I tried to interfere where I wasn’t wanted.”

Ana nods sagely. “I heard. You took your habibi off the next three missions.”

He sighs again. She could tell he was exhausted, both physically and mentally. “Ex-, Ana. We’re not together anymore.”

She scoffs, humored by the thought. “I do not recall you two breaking up.”

“Then you didn’t hear the conversation.”

It was a scant few hours ago when he heard that you had been assigned to several critical risk missions. The level of danger was high, and the chances of death even higher.

He didn’t even know you were alive until two weeks ago when Winston introduced you to the team. He thought he was finally going to die from a heart attack, seeing you alive and well–he could have sworn you perished in Switzerland. Not a day passed where the patronizing question of ‘what if’ didn’t surface in his mind.

He could still remember the conversation clearly that led to your almost-demise.

“Can we talk?”

You cocked your head to the side, a sign he had your undivided attention. Under your scrutiny, he suddenly felt foolish for even opening his mouth. But he trusted you, and that’s why he forced himself to continue. He slapped the back of his neck, rubbing carefully like he does when he’s nervous.

“Switzerland. I need you to come with me. For…” He gritted his teeth. “For…support. I can’t do this alone anymore. Would you come with me?”

There was a moment of silence where he feared you’d laugh and tell him to stop being silly, that he can do it by himself. But to his immense relief, your eyes softened and you cupped his cheek so gently. Your hand was warm and he couldn’t help but lean into it, holding your gaze steady. “What sort of asshole would I be if I said ‘no’, Commander?”

You slapped him in the shoulder encouragingly, the mild sting it brings was a fierce reminder of your strength–strength he could always count on. “Come on already, let’s get your shit patched up with Gabe already. You’ve both waited long enough.”

You would’ve been an asshole, but an alive asshole. Not that you weren’t now, but he couldn’t have known that. There should have been no survivors. But he survived. Gabriel–Reaper–survived. Wishful thinking had made him hope that you did, too, but you were no super soldier like the two of them. So he didn’t hold his breath–he just held the doors to his heart closed just so he could even sleep at night.

But seeing you those two weeks ago made the pain return full force, almost knocking him to his knees. The doors to his heart slamming open with such intensity, he feared he may never close them again. You were different, more grey in your hair than he remembered, more intense and curt, but it was still you. Time was decidedly unkind to you.

He never knew the full effects of the saying “absence makes the heart grow fonder” until now. You didn’t recognize him–how could you, he was a different man–but he knew it was you right away even beneath the mask you wore, and his heart ached fiercely, his blood singing in his veins, for something it was denied for so long.

But he couldn’t reveal himself–it wouldn’t be fair, he told himself. He could see the way Ana looked at him and how Winston seemed eager for something to happen. There was Jesse, who definitely gave him a side-eyed glance, and there was an awkwardness that surrounded you both when you shook hands whereas you’d tackle him with a warm hug in the past.

It only made him irritated. At himself, mostly. The obvious attention everyone else was giving him didn’t help either.

It was even worse when you declared icily during your introduction, “I’m just here to finish what Jack started.”

It was all his fault, he supposed, and he resolved the fix that. What he wouldn’t give to rewind time just so he could find you again right after the blast–even before it and tell you that he was mistaken, he doesn’t need any support, he can handle these discussions alone and spare you a life of pain. A pang of guilt would strike him with dizzying force whenever he notices something about the way you’ve aged: the small limp in your step that you do your best to hide (he can hear the unevenness); the shaking of your hand when it was free; the small box of tools you kept on your person that looked like it’s been very well used.

But unless he managed to convince Tracer to do some interference, all he could do now was to make sure that this time you didn’t die on his watch and to keep his distance. He owed you that much. It was unfortunate that you didn’t see it that way especially after you found out how he went about ensuring your safety.

“Agent 76,″ you called out. He did not budge when you stomped toward him and put yourself in his face–under previous circumstances, he would’ve been inclined to lean in closer, but now, that would be far from appropriate. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“What do you mean?”

He could tell you knew he was feigning innocence, and you weren’t buying it. You crossed your arms over your chest, regarding him shrewdly behind the mask. “Listen. Just because I just answered the recall doesn’t give you a right to remove me from those missions.”

Ah. You found out much faster than he thought you would (he should’ve remembered not to underestimate your thoroughness from experience), but the fact that you haven’t yet started kicking his ass yet meant that you were going to give him a chance to explain himself.

Like hell he will.

“Those missions were wrongfully assigned to you. You weren’t ready for them.” He almost winced at the boldness of his own lie.

Slowly, like a mother leading a child, you spoke carefully, “Agent 76, I am not a child. I am old enough to retire. Just because you possess more grey than me doesn’t mean that you have the right to control me. Do you understand me?”

“I’m not trying to control you–”

“Then what do you call vetoing the missions that I was assigned to and accepted?” you whispered.

A pang of guilt made him want to shrink, but he held fast. “According to your profile, you haven’t been on the field in too long. You need to work your way up.”

You barked a laugh. Shit, that laugh made his back prickle–you were annoyed. “Excuse you, old man! I’m not spring chicken, but I was former Overwatch–not even the Strike Commander himself could beat my ass without going full strength.” You smacked the back of your hand against his chest. “What the fuck would you even know about missions being for me or not?”

Damn, he forgot how strong your strikes were.

‘It’s all in the wrist,’ you’d used to say as you playfully backhanded his shoulder to demonstrate. Even with his SEP enhancements and accelerated healing, it still left a mark.

You whipped a finger to his face in warning.

“You may have answered Recall faster than me, but that doesn’t mean that it makes you the fucking boss of me. Got that, soldier boy?”

God, you didn’t have to tell him that–of course he knew, he knew better than anyone else just how strong you were even in the face of adversity. But at the same time, it’s because he knew you that he had to do this.

You may think you hide it well, but he doesn’t miss the way your arm seizes right after the gun recoils during the demonstration you give them to prove that you’ve still got what it takes to be Overwatch; he isn’t able to see through your mask, but he had been with you long enough to know you were in pain even after you take a victory pose among a heap of broken training bots. It was an impressive sight made no less so by Solider: 76′s knowledge of your pain.

“Speak for yourself,” he rebutted. It may not have been the right thing to say, but he was just looking out for your well-being. “I am in charge of team compositions. If I don’t think you should be on a mission, you’re out. It’s for your own good.”

He can tell your face has twisted up into a deep scowl that he desperately wishes he could see so that he can kiss it away, but balls his hands into fists to stop.

Finally, you spat out, “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”

He knows. “When you prove yourself, then we’ll reconsider it.”

“You guys don’t have enough people to be picky about this, 76.”

Yes, that’s another thing he knows, but knowing that, he still needed to protect you. “Prove yourself first, then we’ll talk.”

Your shoulders pulled back, and your whole stance stiffened. Mentally, he braced himself for a blow or another harmless (but painful) slap to the chest. But you didn’t. Instead, you growled, annoyed.

“Fine. Fine.” You threw up your hands. “You don’t want another asset on your team, fine. Have it your way, Commander. Go fuck yourself.”

It was unbelievable how much it stung to hear you say his title so sarcastically when he was used to it being used as a term of endearment. Before he could even recover from the stinging verbal blow, you were gone, uneven steps now more obvious than ever echoing in the hall.

He had let you go. Foolishly.

“So you’re going to leave it like that, Jack?” Ana asks softly.

Soldier: 76 let out a heavy sigh, shoulders sagging. He almost didn’t have the strength to lift his head and just let it hang pathetically. He never did like fighting with you. And knowing that it was his fault that you were even doing this only made him feel worse.

“I don’t know, Ana. I was…”

The words die in his mouth, leaving an imaginary bitterness he could almost taste. He was what? Foolish? Just trying to protect you? He didn’t know. The sun has long gone down, leaving the two old soldiers in the cold and misery of Jack’s memories.

Ana gives him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “No matter how long it’s been, not everything is lost, Jack. Go, it’s not too late.”

He has almost half a mind to refute that because it’s been a decade and he’s hurt you much more than he could ever make up for, but the look she gives him is solemn and sympathetic. He’s suddenly reminded of the explosive argument she had with Fareeha after their first meeting in over a decade, and the cookies that the two shared just last week, and he is forced to reconsider.

It really might not be too late, but he doesn’t know if he has the strength to tell you the truth. Not when you were his strength all along.

This was a little rushed, but I just–OW. That prompt hurt. I couldn’t help but keep going on and on.

#soldier: 76 x reader #reader #anon #ask #my writing

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