#Does it completely interrupt the tone that the last two comics set? Yeah it does. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ghostlywritten · 3 years

Text

If Only I Had Stayed In The Shadows - Chapter Eleven

James Potter x OC

Words: 3,6k

Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten

It was a peaceful Saturday, sunny with a light breeze rushing over the Hogwarts grounds. I was sitting against the trunk of a tree close to the lake, enjoying the rays of sunshine on my skin as I lazily skimmed the pages of my Potions book with tired eyes. The end of the year exam for Potions was coming up in two weeks and there was rarely a Sixth Year seen without this book in hand, either studying during breakfast, lunch and dinner or in the library inbetween free periods and after classes. Usually I would be among them, ripping the last few good strands of my hair in stress but today I felt unbelievably lazy, feeling too heavy and tired to do anything. 'Stupid period,' I thought grumpily, tilting my head up to the sky as if the sun could help me feel better. Which it did, until-

"Oi, Cec!" Sirius called out, jogging up towards where I was sat, interrupting the peaceful silence. I briefly thought back on the last time he had interrupted something several days ago and felt myself go red once again.

"Hey Sirius, what's up?" I greeted him, closing my book. He glanced down at it, grimacing. "Potions, eh? What a waste of time."

"Don't you need it to become an Auror?" I asked him amused and he simply waved me off. "Yeah, whatever. You got some time? I wanted to show you something."

I raised an eyebrow. "And what is that exactly?"

"Just come and see?" he nudged my leg with his foot, impatiently.

"The last time you wanted me to see something, a mass of dungbombs exploded on me," I recalled, scrunching my nose. The smell wouldn't get off for a week.

Sirius burst out in laughter, "Merlin, I completely forgot about that! What a brilliant idea!"

"Sure, you call it brilliant," I muttered to myself.

"Oh come on. It was a little fun, admit it," he grinned cheekily and I simply rolled my eyes at him. "You are not really doing yourself a favour right now if you still wanted to show me something."

"Yes, right!" he snapped back to attention, clearing his throat, "I wanna show you something. In fact, it's something really cool that could be useful for you as well."

"And why would you want to show it to me?" I asked, still suspicious.

"Because you're my friend and I wanna share my joy with you?!" As much as the thought of Sirius Black calling me his friend warmed my heart, who - despite his open and social character - rarely considered anyone a friend besides his tight inner circle, I couldn't help but think what a good strategy it would be to trick me.

Sirius sighed, giving in at my silence, "And maybe I want to know your opinion on something, too."

"There is the truth," I said, grinning widely as he gave me an annoyed look. Kneeling down, he tried to widen his eyes in a puppy look, "Are you going to come now?"

I cringed, "Alright, but don't try that look on me again." I got up swiftly, brushing a few strands of grass off my skirt as Sirius sprang up as well with a fist pump in the air. "It siriusly weirded me out."

"Really? Usually it works on the ladies," he pondered before giving me devilish smile, "Don't try to deny it. It did get you to come with me."

"Sure, it did, Sirius," I said, patting his head like a dog, "Sure it did."

We headed into the castle and I prodded him with questions of where we were going the entire way up to the seventh floor but the black-haired boy wouldn't budge until we reached a deserted hallway. I could safely I had never been in this hallway before, seeing as there was nothing but a weird tapestry of a man trying to teach trolls ballet and a vase in a way too big size to be considered normal across from it. And a window.

"So...it's a hallway," I concluded slowly, watching as Sirius traipsed around back and forth, his face set deep in concentration, "You wanted to show me a hallway."

Sirius snorted, stopping his movements as the wall behind was starting to ripple. My eyes widened in astonishment as a door materialised itself where stone had previously been. "No, I wanted to show you this," Sirius replied, smirking at my comically shocked expression. He went to the door, opening it. "My lady." He bowed formally, his smirk giving space for an uptight look and I snorted but eagerly walked over and through the door, curious on what would be behind it. And my jaw promptly dropped down once more.

Inside was a small, cozy room. The walls were completely covered in shelves filled to the brim with books and the floor adorned a thick carpet in a rich burgundy colour with intricate, golden-coloured details woven in. A large fireplace was carved inbetween the shelves in the wall across the door, an inviting fire crackling in it with two, dark green armchairs and a silver side table in front of it.

"Wow," was all I could say, letting Sirius push me inside and staring open-mouthed up at the walls, "This must be heaven for all the bookworms out there."

"Yeah? I thought it would be," Sirius said, a nervous edge on his tone. It broke me out of my stupor and I immediately bombarded him with questions, "How the hell did you find this place? Is this a mini library for nerds? In that case, how come you of all people have found it? And why didn't you show me this earlier, this was a way better place to hide from all the gossiping people than the actual library," I whined at the end. Sirius held up his hands in a placating manner, "Calm down, woman. Take a seat and we shall talk about my awesomeness that made me find this place."

I took the right armchair, relishing in how I sunk a bit into the leather and briefly thought about taking a nap right then and there.

"Chocolate?" Sirius offered, having taken out a bar from his bag. I nodded, catching the half he threw my way and munching on a piece.

"So first of, this place is super duper secret," Sirius started, holding up a finger, "No one that I know of knows about this place besides you now."

"What an honor," I said and it wasn't even sarcasm.

The boy grinned, making himself more comfortable. "As to how I found this place; It was a few years ago where my mates and I had a...a little dispute and weren't on talking terms."

"You guys not talking to each other?" I rose an eyebrow, "That sounds nearly impossible."

"Right?" Sirius grinned, but I could see an underlined pain in his eyes, "However, we did have a fight but got over it." He brushed it off, taking a bite of his chocolate. I cringed, "Can't you break off the pieces like every other sane person?" He looked down at his half of the bar before toothily taking another bite. "Why? Does it bother you?"

"Very."

"Good."

"Ugh, go on."

"Yeah, so anyway. During my dispute with the mates I was very much on my own in setting up pranks and stuff. One night, when I was out after curfew, Filch's blasted cat found me. I didn't have the Invisibility Cloak with me so I had to make a run for it, because wherever the cat is, our dear caretaker is close by as well. I got into this hallway, which was obviously a dead end and whilst I was pacing around thinking about where to hide, this mysterious door suddenly appeared on the blank wall just like it had right now."

"And it brought you to this library?"

"No, it was just a bathroom since I also had to pee very badly." I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, looking around the room. "How-"

"How is that possible, you ask? Well dear, I was wondering that, too because as soon as I got back out, the door disappeard and I couldn't get back in. So the next day, after I successfully escaped Filch and his cat, I went to this hallway and stood in front of this particular blank wall once more, trying to get back into the bathroom. Only, it wouldn't work. I tried everything, recalling every step I made that made the door appear, thinking I need to find this secret place and boom! The door appeared again!" he threw his arms up in emphasis and I would have laughed at his dramatic antics if I hadn't been so intrigued. No one could say Sirius wasn't a good storyteller. "But, it wasn't the bathroom I had seen last time. It was a much bigger room with millions of things scattered and piled up everywhere."

"What?" I asked, flabbergasted, "The room changed?!"

"The room changed!" he exclaimed, pointing a finger at me with a proud look, "It's a wish room! A room that can transfigure itself in whatever you need it to be." I dropped back against the chair in shock. "That...is...bloody brilliant!" I breathed out, staring once more around the room in amazment.

"It bloody is, right?" Sirius agreed giddily.

"So, if I wanted a place to hide-"

"You get your personal hiding place."

"And if I want a Quidditch field to practice on whilst the other teams are occupying the field outside-"

"You get your personal Quidditch field."

"And if I wanted my own sleeping space to get away from my snoring roommates-"

"You get your own sleeping space to get away from your snoring roomates, when you tell me who it is!"

"This is bloody awesome, Sirius! And no, I won't tell you!"

"Fine, but yes! It bloody is!" I laughed in excitement, thinking about all the great things that this room could be used for. "How come no one knows about this place? James would use it everyday for practicing Quidditch if he knew about it!" My face fell in thought, "Perhaps we shouldn't tell him then. He would train us dead."

Sirius' face also morphed into a somber look. "Yeah, I don't really want him to know or anyone else." I looked him over in surprise, "How come you haven't told him or the others about it? I thought you told each other everything?"

The boy sighed heavily, running a hand through his lucious black hair as he stared into the fire, "I told you, we had a dispute when I discovered the place. I always came here when I needed a bit time for myself to reflect on everything...it was kind of my safe space and also a good sleeping place when the dorm got too suffocating." I bit my lip, seeing the sad expression on his face and wondered just what had been so bad to cause such a bad fight between them. "I always planned to tell them if we were to ever become close again and when we did, it kind of slipped my mind with all the other things that came up. It happened around Fifth Year." I nodded, musing that he probably meant the time he ran away from home. Sirius sighed heavily, "So far, I haven't told them yet because I still sometimes use it as my safe space."

"That's good. You don't need to tell them everything because you are best friends," I said when he almost looked guilty at the prospect of hiding this from his mates.

He looked at me with an almost desperate expression, "Will you not tell anyone about this, please? I don't know how many can occupy this place at the same time since I couldn't test it out yet. And if the mates find out they will know to always look here. And sometimes, I just wanna be alone. You know, when I have to think about stuff they wouldn't understand..."

"It's okay, Sirius," I cut him off with a light laugh and he stared at me with an almost pout, "I won't tell anyone. Of course, I won't if you don't want me to."

He deflated with a relieved sigh before his toothy grin came back up, "I knew I could trust you!" I felt myself go red a bit at this, feeling warmth that he would trust me enough with something he wouldn't even tell his best friends. Come to think of it...

"But why would you tell me about this place anyways?" I wondered, "If you haven't even told James about it...?"

Sirius nodded. "I know, it's confusing. It's just that they - especially James - don't really understand the concept of personal space." I coughed to cover up a laugh, knowing full well what he meant. "I mean, Remus and Peter would actually leave me to myself if I were to ask them but James? Oof, James would immediately cling onto you and ask you what's wrong until you give in."

"I can imagine that all too well," I agreed.

"Right. And don't get me wrong, I love that and I myself am like that, too sometimes."

"Probably all the time."

"Shut it. So, that's why I'm still a bit reluctant to tell them. You, however, know when to drop a topic I don't wanna talk about. You give me the space that I sometimes need from a friend," he stated, growing more serious, "...and you know a lot more about me and a certain brother of mine than the others do." It dawned on me where this conversation was going and my eyes flickered over all the books once more. "I can't really tell the others about Regulus anymore. Ever since I've run away, the others think that the chapter with my family is forever closed and done with. That I'm done with my family. James especially holds quite a grudge against Reggie ever since I told them he said I wasn't his brother anymore. He is determined to fill up that space," Sirius chuckled to himself, "I love that guy." I resisted the urge to scream 'Me, too!'. His smile faded. "I can't give up on Reggie though. Never Reggie. I could never leave him behind, even if I kind of did...," he trailed off, his eyes glassed over as if he were somewhere else with his mind.

"You are trying to rekindle your relationship with him," I decided to speak up when his expression got too pained, assuming he was reliving a bad memory. He broke out of it, shaking his head slightly.

"I am, yes. And this is why we are here." Sirius gestured around the room, "This is my 104th attempt at becoming close to my little brother again. What do you think?"

"You gonna show him this place?"

"Yeah. I figured if we were to spend some time here, undisturbed and away from all the eyes that are preventing Reg from talking to me, we would eventually become close again. And maybe - just maybe - I can finally get him out of our blasted childhood place."

"Well..., I believe this is the perfect place for a bookworm for sure."

Sirius smiled widely, "Then Reggie is going to love it!"

I smiled back at him, "I think, he would love it even if this room turned into that bathroom that you had seen during your first time here." Sirius barked a laugh, "He would be so confused!"

"You might wanna add some snacks though when you meet up with him here. And some tea," I mused, "To make sure you don't get too hungry and have to cut it short."

"Ah, yeah I will have to get that from the kitchen. The room can't produce food." I pouted, "That's too bad." Sirius grinned before it softened into an uncertain smile, "And you really think he is going to like it?"

"With the amount of times we have stalked him in the library compared to any other place, we can safely assume that he feels very comfortable around books at least."

"We weren't stalking! Stop calling it like that!" Sirius complained, cringing. I snickered into my piece of chocolate. The boy relaxed into his seat, shooting me another smile, "Thanks for your help, Cec. I really appreciate it."

I gulped down the chocolate, leaning back against the armchair as well, "You are very welcome, Sirius. When are you going to show him this place?"

Sirius shrugged, trying and failing to appear nonchalant. "Maybe tonight."

I gave him a sympathetic smile. "Good luck. I'm sure it will go well."

"Has anybody seen Padfoot anywhere?" James asked later that night as we lounged around the fireplace in our common room. I smiled a little when everyone declined.

It was the next Friday when the last Quidditch game of the year rolled up: Slythering vs. Hufflepuff. Nearly everyone was there, the last game being the most popular of all since it would determine, who would become first place (either Slytherin or Gryffindor) and who would win third place (Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw). I watched the teams come out of the locker rooms, James booing loudly whilst the members in green were announced by the commentator. I noticed he was especially loud during the announcement of 'Regulus Black' and I nudged him a little. "BOOOO-uff!" Alright, maybe a little hard.

"Sorry, love," I said, rubbing his side soothingly as he complained noisily, "Someone bumped into me."

"S'alright," he mumbled with a pout, pulling me closer and glaring over my shoulder at the non-existent culprit. I shot a wink at Sirius, who was stood next to James, and he smiled gratefully.

"And the game begins! Mulciber has the Quaffle and immediately shoots towards to opponent's goals-!" The game continued with Quaffles and Bludgers being thrown/beaten back and forth between the teams. I watched with rampant attention as the goal difference never seemed to get too high, occasionally glancing at the Seekers to see if they had caught sight of the Snitch. Catching it seemed to be the only way to determine the winner.

"It's to 280 to 270 for Slytherin, ladies and gentlemen, and neither side is showing any sign of fatigue. It's a game of win and lose, of life and death- AND BLACK HAS SPOTTED THE SNITCH!" All eyes snapped towards the small seeker zooming towards the ground near the Hufflepuff's goals, a mere blurred image of green and brown as he flew down in a breakneck speed. I noticed everyone lean forward over the railing to see the exact moment he caught the Snitch, the Hufflepuff seeker being one second too late. "AND BLACK HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH! SLYTHERIN WINS THE GAME AND THE CUP! OH MY MERLIN!"

The Slytherin stand broke out in an uproar, shooting green and silver lights into the sky as the teams touched down, the green-cladded members jumping on Regulus, who was holding up the Snitch clenched in his fist with a blinding smile. I noticed Sirius biting his lip hard to prevent a wide grin as his grey eyes twinkled with pride whilst James groaned in disappointment but proceeded to clap along with everyone else, knowing they had won fair and square. "Gonna bloody win against them next year," I heard him grumble under his breath and I squeezed his arm with mine as I clapped along, "Definitely." He smiled at me before his eyes flickered towards something over my head. I looked back forwards, sneaking a glance to my side to see Lily and Alice next to Marlene, who was next to me, a pair of green eyes looking in our direction.

My chest constricted once more.

"I'm going to have to schedule more practices," James spoke as we walked back up to the castle after the game, neither of us wanting to stay and see the Slytherins celebrate, no matter how well deserved it was. "Maybe I can even get everyone to train on their own during the summer holidays."

"That's a bit excessive, don't you think?" I remarked, arm hooked around his. All I wanted to do during the holidays was laze around before the N.E.W.T.s came up next year.

"What, you think the Slytherin captain doesn't force his team to?" James pointed out, "And it obviously worked. This way we don't need to get back into the routine after the holidays and can improve our teamwork faster rather than having to train our individual skills back into shape."

"But James, this is our last summer holiday ever. Next year will be our last year in Hogwarts," I pointed out.

"Next year will also be our last chance to impress any recruits that will be there during the last games," James replied and I thought back on the few foreign adults that had occupied some seats in the teacher's stands during this game. The messy-haired grabbed me by the waist, twirling me around as I squealed in surprise. "Think about it, getting recruited by the Chudley Cannons-"

"Montrose Magpies."

"-and becoming the best Chaser and Seeker the Chudley Cannons-"

"Montrose Magpies."

"-ever had in history." He led me down with grin, still holding onto my waist, "We would be the dreamteam." I gazed into his brown eyes that almost had a mahogany hue to it in the current light of the sunset. "Yeah, we probably would..."

"Definitely would!" he exclaimed and I wrapped my arms around his, burying my face in his chest as an uncontrollable smile almost made my cheeks hurt.

I was definitely whipped for this boy. Irrevocably.

Next Chapter

#james potter #james potter x oc #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter fanfiction #marauders imagine #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter #marauders #Lily Evans #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #marlene mckinnon #OC #original character #fanfiction

75 notes · View notes

bonjour-rainycity · 4 years

Text

The Long Way Around ~ Chapter 16

Link to previous part: https://bonjour-rainycity.tumblr.com/post/625552318938611712/the-long-way-around-chapter-15

Pairing: Jasper x Reader

Word count: 3050

Warnings: None

Y/n’s POV

I sigh, pulling on my tennis shoes. “Can we do this later? I’m not feeling it.” It’s only been six hours since our last drill, I haven’t heard from Jasper, and the burn in my throat has yet to fade from six hours ago. I just want to be left alone.

“No.” Rosalie’s voice is firm, and she reaches down a hand to pull me up. “You need to be consistent otherwise you’ll lose progress. No more moping.” Now, she gives me a shove towards my bedroom door, “I’ve let this go on for too long.”

Childishly, I take slow steps towards the door. I really just want to get back in bed and watch some Netflix or something. “It’s not like it’s your fault. I’m just not in the mood.”

“Look,” Rosalie sighs, placing her hands on her hips. “Being away from your mate is hard, I get it. Emmett and I hate being away from each other, but-”

Her words register, and I have to cut her off. It’s something that’s been bothering me since the fight, when Cora addressed Jasper. She’d asked him if he was willing to die in the place of his mate, and she’d meant me. And now, Rosalie throws the term casually into conversation. My mind floats back to that discussion Jasper and I had all those months ago, about mates, and I know that the term is anything but casual; it’s equivalent to an eternal, undying commitment.

“Yeah, about that.” Rosalie’s eyebrows raise, presumably at being interrupted, but she speaks no further. I play with my fingers, glad Jasper’s not here to feel my insecurity and nervousness. It might give him the wrong impression. “That word has been thrown around a lot recently.”

Now, a smile quirks across Rosalie’s lips. “Does that bother you?”

“No, not bother,” I’m quick to correct. “It definitely does not bother me, it just…y’know, means a lot.”

“And that worries you?” This time, her guess is correct.

Timidly, I nod. It feels dumb to be admitting all of this, but it’s the truth. “It just feels so fast to be feeling this way.”

Rosalie takes a small step towards me, and her voice is kind when she speaks. “You guys go at whatever pace feels comfortable for you. All I’ll say, is when you know, you know. And there’s no going back.” She heaves a sigh, and then smiles. “Now, get your butt in the backyard. You are not getting out of training just cause you’re in love.”

Rolling my eyes, I follow her out of the house. I’ll have to make time to mull over my thoughts later, when I’m alone.

When we reach the backyard, which is really just a clearing in between the massive house and the forest, Emmett is waiting, and so is a scent that throws me into an immediate predator-like crouch.

“Emmett, you’re supposed to wait until she’s prepared to open the bag,” Rosalie chides, looking at me warily.

Emmett shrugs, a wide, unbothered grin across his face. “I’m taking it up a notch.”

Just the fact that I can register their conversation shows me how far I’ve come. A few weeks ago, I would’ve been laser-focused on the squishy bag fifty yards from me. I use the knowledge of my progress as a lifeline and force myself out of my crouch.

The footsteps racing toward me give barely a second to react before I’m slammed onto the ground with the force of a freight train. I snarl, fighting to get the dead weight off of me. The weight snarls back, and I recognize the sound instantly as that of another vampire. He must have smelled the blood and come to fight me for it. With that knowledge, my new goal becomes escape and, if possible, escape plus satisfaction in the form of guzzling the packaged human blood. But my first priority is set. With a growl, I grip the shoulders of my assailant, using my strength and my ability to put him on the ground. The man gasps in response to my attack, and soon a groan is drawn from his lips. My hands tingle, the only physical sign that I’d used my powers. Once the man is on the ground, I hold him down with a knee on his chest. I’m about to hit him with a wave of fire to further incapacitate him, when I notice the contorted, yet familiar, face below me.

“Arthur,” I gasp, hurrying off of him.

He takes a few steadying breaths but looks at me with a glint in his eye. “Nice job.”

“Yes,” another voice agrees as Edward hurries to join our group. “That was very controlled, Y/n.”

“Controlled?” I’m sure my eyes must be bulging comically. “I about made my friend think he’d been set on fire just so I could have some packaged blood.”

The blood. I freeze as I realize I had been ignoring it. Not unaware of it, exactly, just not prioritizing it. Experimentally, I take a shallow breath through my mouth. The fire ignites, but I fight through it. I take another breath, and another, eventually working up to a deep breath through my nose. That hits me the hardest, but with gritted teeth and much effort, I push down the urge to follow the scent.

Oh wow.

My face breaks in a grin to match that of Rose, Emmett, Arthur, and Edward.

Even now, fully aware of the sweet smell, I can ignore the urge to go after it. The temptation, as well as the painful burn in my throat, are very much present, but I can control my instincts. I am controlled.

“Aha!” I exclaim in joy and jump in the air, elevating about twelve feet before crashing back into the ground, leaving a small crater.

I bask in the congratulation from my friends as well as in my newfound optimism. Maybe Jasper is right. We might actually be able to go on a trip soon, just the two of us.

I swallow at the implication.

We’ve never been alone before for an extended period of time. Even our two trips to the waterfall were relatively brief.

Now that I know it’s a real possibility, I ache for uninterrupted time with Jasper.

But then my thoughts shift and I’m returned to a state of worry as I face the harsh reality that none of us have heard from either Carlisle, Esme, or Jasper in well over six hours.

The fact that Edward hears my thoughts and can offer no reassurance makes me feel even worse.

Emmett notices the shift in my mood. “Wanna wrestle?”

Usually I refrain, but right now, that actually sounds kind of fun. At the very least, it will distract me.

Hesitantly, I nod, and Emmett grins widely. After tossing the now tightly closed bag to Rosalie (who discards it safely), Emmett draws me further away from the house.

“Esme will kill us if she comes back to crushed brick,” he explains.

Edward chortles. “What, again?”

“Hey you’re next baby bro,” Emmett teases, his grin never slipping.

We circle each other for a few minutes. Then, with barely any warning, he lunges.

We grapple. I’ve been a vampire for nearly eleven months now, and my newborn strength is all but gone. Emmett is definitely stronger than me. My advantages lie in my speed—Emmett’s size makes him slightly slower than others—and in my ability. Still, I’m very hesitant to cause my lovable friend pain, so I keep a tight reign on my powers.

Emmett manages to get his arms around my middle and tosses me about two hundred yards. I slam into a tree, taking it down with me. But before it has a chance to hit the ground, I’m standing in front of Emmett, using his shoulders to throw him off balance. Just as I’m about to kick him in the stomach, a low move, I know, Edward’s phone rings. Immediately, we all freeze, guessing who will be on the other end of the call, but in the dark as to what news they will provide.

“Carlisle?” Edward’s voice is terse, a vocal expression of the feelings raging inside my heart. Please, please let Jasper be okay.

“Edward, we are on our way home. The conversation went well.” Carlisle’s voice is calm, optimistic even, and my friends exhale sighs of relief. I can’t quite relax yet though. Not until…

Thankfully, Edward hears the frantic tone to my thoughts and takes pity.

“Is everyone alright? Where are Esme and Jasper?”

“Everyone is just fine. Esme is checking us out and Jasper’s running a quick errand before we leave for the airport.”

I let out a shaky breath, nearly falling to the ground as all the tension leaves my body. He’s okay. He’s coming home.

“Wonderful,” Edward enthuses. “When should we expect you?”

“Our flight is supposed to land around five tomorrow morning, and we should reach the house around eight.”

The three hour drive between our small town and the nearest international airport suddenly seems incredibly rude. Perhaps…

Immediately, Edward shakes his head in my direction. “You’re not ready for that.”

“But you said I was controlled!” Inwardly, I cringe. My voice sounds like that of a whiny teenager.

“Controlled for the exercises, yes, but it will be completely different when you’re surrounded by humans, even if you stay in the car,” he tacks on, knowing my next argument. “Besides, Carlisle parked his Mercedes at the airport. It makes no sense to drive there when he already has a car waiting.”

I fight back a groan. I just want to see Jasper. I miss his hugs, his scent, the feel of his hand in mine, the way he smirks when I tug on his hair, cuddling up and reading or watching movies, the sound of his laugh-

Edward’s kind chuckle breaks through my thoughts. “Just eighteen more hours.”

Pursing my lips, I check my watch. It’s just past two-thirty. I can distract myself for seventeen hours and twenty-four minutes. Right?

Edward focuses back on his conversation with Carlisle, but I tune him out. I can get all the details later, from Jasper. All that matters now is that they’re safe, they’re coming home, and that the mission was successful.

I think of ways to fill my time. Hunting would certainly be a fun occupation, but I quickly dismiss the idea. Jasper will want to go when he returns, and I would rather go with him. Heck, we might get a whole family trip out of it if Carlisle and Esme need to go, too. I could kill a few more hours wrestling with Emmett though, eventually, we were sure to get sick of throwing each other around. Randomly, a thought strikes me, and a smile spreads across my face.

“Bella, Alice, Rose” I call, hurrying back towards the house.

{***}

Seven grueling hours later, we’ve amassed our supplies. Paint cans and pillows and fabric and wood and brushes and tools and baskets and a million other tiny objects crowd my room. It seemed much larger before we crammed all this in.

While the girls had kindly set up a room for me after my transformation, it lacked, well, me. The style was very generic and resembled more of a guest room than someone’s personal space.

I decided it was time for a change.

Bella lost interest hours ago and was now off somewhere with Edward, so Rose had roped Emmett into being our fourth set of hands.

“I like the pink, but that’s just me,” Emmett contributes, sounding surprisingly emphatic.

Rosalie groans. “I asked for base colors, not accent colors.”

Emmett makes a face that quite explicitly communicates the word, ‘geesh.’

I hold back a laugh and instead focus on studying the samples of paint in front of me. One in particular stands out, and I relay my decision to the group. We begin painting, each of us taking a wall. Arthur seems to feel left out and joins us about halfway through, and Rosalie puts him to work building a window seat.

Soon, my walls boast a calming sage color, and I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. Yes. Arthur’s constructed a lovely window seat complete with little doors on the bottom to give me extra storage, and I thank him profusely. It’s truly beautiful. Alice disappears and comes back with the perfect lace curtains, and I actually squeal. I would have never thought to include lace but, seeing it in context, I can’t deny that it’s just perfect.

To add a bit of depth (in Rosalie’s words, anyway), we throw in some hints of lavender, cream, and brown. Pleased with my reaction to his window seat, Arthur and Alice craft a bookshelf, and then leave in search of the perfect chair and table. While they’re gone, Rosalie, Emmett, and I talk bedding. After a surprising amount of arguing, we decide on a cream duvet and many pillows in variations of cream, lavender, and coffee.

Alice must have been notified of our decisions (by means of text or supernatural premonition, I don’t know), and returns bearing many gifts. She and Arthur set the items gently on my bedroom floor: a dusty pink vintage chair, a carefully distressed cream circular end table, a small cream pillow (presumably for the chair), a handful of startlingly large blankets, and hanging twinkly lights for above my bed. I about burst with excitement.

Not about to be outdone, Emmett leaves and returns exactly one hour later bearing a huge flat-screen TV. He grins as he and Arthur rebuild the bookshelf into a larger bookshelf-entertainment center-combo. It’s truly awesome.

With five hours before Jasper’s arrival, my room is finished. I can’t help but beam as we slide the last of my books into place on the carefully organized shelf.

“You guys….” Emotion makes my voice tight. In my, albeit fuzzy, human memory, I can’t locate a time when my friends had gone to such lengths to help me, to make me happy. I’m truly, deeply grateful for these people I get to call my friends. More than that, my family. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

They respond with smiles and an easy chorus of phrases diminishing their instrumental roles. I just pull them in for a group hug, which is met with varying levels of appreciation, and can’t help but laugh.

They leave me alone to enjoy my new space but also so they can finish cleaning up before Esme gets home. I feel bad, them having to take trips to the dump and various stores on my behalf, but Edward is right. I’m not ready to be surrounded by actual humans. Still, I’m eager to show Jasper my progress. He’ll be proud of me.

The thought of my love—for, as much as it scares me to think of him that way, he surely is— causes me to pause. Now that my room is all nice, it seems unfair for him to have to come home to find his untouched. A flash of a weak human memory confirms my theory: I had just returned from a week long school trip and found my room clean with freshly washed sheets. Someone—my mom or my dad?—had figured I would be tired and knew I would appreciate the act. Hopefully, Jasper would too. I exit my room and turn up the staircase to the top floor. Jasper’s room is located at the eastern corner of the house, and I head in that direction. When I get to his door, I pause. I’d been in here many times before, but never without him. Would he be upset? Would he consider this an invasion of his privacy? Those fears nearly send me back down the stairs but, reviewing what I know of his character, Jasper wouldn’t be angry. He probably wouldn’t even care. So, I push the door open.

Jasper’s scent, while faint, hits me, and I close my eyes, savoring. It’s been days since I’ve been surrounded by the comforting warmth of him, and my heart aches for his return.

I want to kick myself for being so besotted. Who was I, that I would be reduced to such sadness at just a few days away from my boyfriend?

I sigh, knowing the truth.

But he’s not just my boyfriend. Jasper is my mate. Neither of us is human anymore, so human standards cannot apply to us. What I feel for him is so completely…more than any human could ever even conceive of feeling.

I swallow under the weight of my admission. Put simply, I know deep in my gut that Jasper and I will be together for eternity. And, if death ever tries to do us part, it will not succeed. Whether in after-life or whatever comes next, we will be together.

Oof.

Needing to focus on something other than these intensities, I hurry to Jasper’s bed and strip the sheets and pillowcases. His room is spotless, so there’s not much work for me there. Still, while his bedding is in the washer, I busy myself with dusting, While wiping off one of his shelves, I find a couple of my books I’d noticed were missing, and roll my eyes. Thief. In retaliation, I take his favorite chessboard and shove it under my bed. Now, we’re even.

Once the bedding is finished drying, I replace it and smooth it out, making the bed as best I can. Vampirism is supposed to make you good at everything, but I can’t quite replicate the tightly fitted corners Jasper creates with ease. Eh, good enough. Besides, it’s the thought that counts, right?

I replenish the washing machine with Carlisle and Esme’s bedding next, not wanting to leave them out. Just because I’m not ridiculously in love with them doesn’t mean they shouldn’t have freshly washed sheets too, right?

By the time I’m done with my various cleaning, it’s only two hours until Jasper’s arrival. Alice can sense my anticipation, and invites me to watch a movie with her. I accept but, instead of focusing on the classic plot, count down the minutes until I can hear the car’s wheels on the drive.

A/n Thank you for all your kind words on my last update! Each reply, like, and reblog makes me smile and I truly appreciate you taking the time out of your day to do that! Don’t forget to let me know what you thought of this chapter and if you would like to be added to the tag list :)

xx,

Bjr

Link to next part: https://bonjour-rainycity.tumblr.com/post/625820783935160320/the-long-way-around-chapter-17

Tag list: @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @one-thread-can-save-a-life @salsameter @enchantedcruelsummer @meashy-moo @sana-li @femflorals @80strashbag @tomisbaeholland @heyimval13 @triscuitcracker @deviantly-gayy @sleepywinnie847 @vexingcosmos @avalongrey @artms-blnd

147 notes · View notes

lunetheaveragefan · 3 years

Text

‘one day...’

Hey y’all! This chapter was supposed to be posted last Monday but last week was so busy for me and I forgot. So finally, here is chapter 7! Chapter 8 was supposed to be posted next week, but I’m going to continue with my typical two week schedule so I don’t forget again! Hope you enjoy!

A Sander Sides high school AU

Pairing: Prinxiety and some background Logicality

Summary: Virgil is used to being alone. He only has one friend, Logan. But when Logan makes a new friend, things begin to change as two more join their group. Roman, a boisterous theater kid, seems determined to destroy Virgil’s lonely, average life. How much will Virgil’s life change?

Warnings: swearing; brief mention of a panic attack; eating; if you notice anything else, let me know!

Word Count: 2557 words

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

CHAPTER SEVEN

Virgil exits the auditorium with Patton and Logan, grinning.

“He did so good!” Patton exclaims. Before either of the others have a chance to respond, Patton continues, “It was like he was a completely different person! Here, let’s go congratulate him!” Virgil and Logan follow Patton down a few crowded hallways, weaving in and out of people talking to other members of the cast.

“Roman!” Patton yells, waving his arms. Virgil catches sight of Roman, stepping out of a set of heavy doors. Behind him, it’s dark, but Virgil can make out a folding table and the edges of black curtains. Backstage. Then, a group of people walk in front of them, and Virgil loses sight of Roman.

Without hesitation, Patton grabs Logan’s hand and begins to shove people aside, muttering a few cheerful ‘Excuse me’s and ‘Sorry’s. Before Virgil has a chance to get a hold of Logan, they’re lost in the crowd.

Well, what the heck do I do now? Virgil wonders, chuckling softly. A hand brushes his arm at the same time a voice says, “Hey. Where are the others?”

After seeing who it is, Virgil laughs and answers, “They went to look for you.” Roman slaps his forehead with his palm, uttering a sound that’s half-sigh, half-laugh. He rises up to his toes, straining to look over people’s heads.

“This same goddamn thing happens every year. You would think we’d learn by now.” Roman looks back down at Virgil, and at the very second he does, Virgil sees Patton pop up above the rest of the crowd. Pointing so Roman will see, Virgil waves his other hand to catch Patton’s attention. It works, and Roman grabs Virgil’s hand, causing his heart to skip a beat.

After a lot of pushing and shoving, the two of them reach Patton and Logan, standing pressed up against the wall next to a chair. So that’s how Patton got so tall all of a sudden. The second Patton sees them, he starts to gush about the performance.

“That was so good, Roman!” Patton exclaims clapping his hands in glee. He bounces on the balls of his feet, a wide smile spread across his face. “We all loved it and we’re so proud of you and it sounded so good and I think Virgil might’ve even been crying—” Virgil blushes when Roman looks at him with a shocked expression—“I’m not sure I couldn’t see through my own tears. But for real it was so good, like, I can’t even believe it was put on by high schoolers—” Logan places a hand on Patton’s shoulder. The action confirms to Virgil that Logan definitely has some sort of crush on Patton; Logan never really touches anyone in any way, with the occasional exception of Virgil.

“Sorry,” Patton says, grinning sheepishly. Roman chuckles and looks at Patton, appreciation covering his face.

“It’s okay. I’m glad you came. All of you.” Roman’s smile at him, although no more than a few seconds, makes butterflies erupt in Virgil’s stomach. He smiles back hesitantly, an intense debate going on in his head.

C’mon, tell him how much you liked it! one side says.

No! He won’t think it’s sincere. He’ll just figure you’re copying Patton, the other says back.

Maybe he will take it seriously! Maybe then you’ll have a better chance with him!

Better chance? You don’t actually like him, do you?

Of course he does! The butterflies, dreams, that’s the only logical conclusion!

Shut up, Virgil interrupts. I’ll tell him good job, but as a friend. Because I don’t like him. He’s still Roman Princeford. Have you all forgotten what happened freshman year? That ends the argument in its tracks. He gathers his courage, a rolling knot of apprehension twisting in his stomach.

“Yeah, it was really good, Roman,” Virgil compliments. “Although, Patton, you didn’t need to freaking snitch on me and how I was crying.” Patton shrugs, like ‘What can you do?’ Virgil chuckles, shaking his head.

“Wait, you were actually crying?” Roman asks. When Virgil turns back to look at Roman, he bursts out laughing at his face. It’s filled with complete and utter shock, eyes wide, mouth in a small, disbelieving ‘o’ shape. It seems so much like a face a cartoon character would make that Virgil can’t control his laughter. “What?”

“Your—Your face—” Virgil manages between wheezes. Roman punches Virgil in the arm.

“Stop. That’s not nice.” His words sound angry, but he’s smiling and his tone — and punch — are light.

“Sorry, sorry,” Virgil says, taking deep breaths to hold the laughter in. “It was just so comically shocked. But yes. I did actually cry. And don’t seem so surprised this time.”

“Honestly, your laugh was more surprising. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh like that. It’s a nice sound,” Roman admits, his face filled with something that seems awfully close to adoration. But then he blinks, and his smile is just an ordinary, million-dollar, Roman Princeford smile. It wouldn’t matter if he said it with contempt, because the compliment would’ve still sent a flood of warmth through Virgil. His heart is racing, but this time, not out of panic.

Tearing his eyes away from Roman and trying to inconspicuously grit his teeth, which is no easy feat, Virgil thinks, What is going on? It’s just a compliment. It’s not like you have a crush on him or anything.

“Anyway,” Roman starts, addressing the whole group, “I better go find my parents so they can fawn over me like I’m next Lin-Manuel Miranda or Leslie Odom Jr.” Upon seeing everyone’s blank looks, his eyes widen and he says, “Hamilton stars? Only some of the best singers to ever step foot on Broadway? Voices like goddamn angels who can, for some reason, also rap?” When everyone shakes their head, he sighs. “I swear, you guys must be living under a rock. But anyway, Imma head out. We’ll meet by door 10 at, say, 9:00, for the sleepover?”

Patton and Logan nod their heads and immediately start talking to each other, Patton’s hands moving animatedly.

“Sleepover?” Virgil asks.

“Yeah, Patton and I have a tradition where after every show or any big event with one of our activities, we have a sleepover. Even if it went terribly. He didn’t tell you?” Virgil shakes his head. Roman smiles and continues, “Well, you won’t want to miss it. Door 10 at 9, got it?” Once Virgil gives him confirmation, Roman turns and disappears into the crowd.

Virgil stares after him, a strange feeling welling up inside him. And this time, when the possibility of a crush comes up in his thoughts, he doesn’t dismiss it immediately.

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

Virgil sits against Roman’s wall, an excessive amount of pillows behind his back, wrapped in a blanket like a burrito, a comparison that Patton has already, unfortunately, made.

“I still cannot comprehend how you possibly require this immense amount of pillows,” Logan persists. He can’t stop marveling over how many pillows Roman has on his bed. It’s about the 4th time he’s mentioned it.

“Logan, dude, just let it go,” Virgil chuckles, throwing the stuffed bear next to him. It hits Logan, who’s sitting on the floor, square in the side of his head. He opens his mouth to protest, but Roman interrupts him.

“Hey, don’t throw King Snuffles. He doesn’t deserve this abuse.” Roman leans over to pick the bear off the floor. Cradling it in his arms, he glares at Virgil.

“You named your bear King Snuffles?” Virgil questions, not all that surprised. Roman gasps and fakes being offended.

“Yes,” he replies, his voice scandalized. “And what the hell of it?” Virgil puts his hands up in surrender.

“Woah. Nothing, I guess, if you’re going to get so defensive about it.” He pulls the blanket, which fell down when he put up his hands, back around him. There’s too much on his head, so it falls in front of his face. Before he can reach up to push it up, a hand does it for him. Roman smiles at him, patting his head after setting the blanket there. Virgil rolls his eyes.

He hopes the yellow-orange LED lights and the shadows from the blanket hide the blush creeping across his cheeks.

“I’m hungry so I’m gonna head and get snacks,” Roman announces, turning and sling his legs over the edge of the bed to stand. Patton bolts to his feet.

“No, no, I’ll do it,” he says, clearly up to something. “And Logan will come with me.”

“Well, actually—” Logan begins. Patton elbows him, and he changes course. “I guess I’m going with.” On their way out, Patton gives Roman an exaggerated wink. Roman, in lieu of a response, gives him an exasperated, I’m-so-done kind of look. Virgil can’t say for sure, but when Roman looks back at him, he thinks Roman’s blushing.

“So…” Roman starts, biting his lip and fidgeting with his fingers. Virgil’s never seen him look this unsure. He’s used to a confident, brash, slightly egotistical Roman. To his surprise, he almost prefers this side of Roman.

Virgil must lose his mind for a little, because he’s definitely not acting like himself when he suggests, “Pillow fight?” and right after, grabs a pillow and flings it at Roman, whacking him in the face.

A borderline-evil smile appears on Romans face as he says, “Oh, you’re on.” Virgil’s senses pick that exact moment to come back, but he can’t take it back now. So he does the only thing he can do: slings the pillow again. Chaos erupts, and a Virgil verse Roman pillow fight begins.

As he throws and gets hit by pillows, Virgil laughs and yells, heart pounding, breathing in quick bursts, but this feels better than panic attacks. Happiness. It’s something Virgil doesn’t feel a whole lot since he spends most of his life stuck in a state of anxiety. It’s nice to be happy again.

He’s so lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t notice the pillow coming towards him until it slaps him in the face. Virgil falls backwards, head landing, conveniently, on a pillow. He sits up and hits Roman with it, and they’re at it again.

When Roman starts to fall off the bed, Virgil starts to laugh. But then he realizes that somehow, they’d gotten tangled in a blanket, and if Roman is going down, Virgil will too. Shrieking in surprise, Virgil instinctively closes his eyes as he’s yanked off the bed. A pillow hits the back of his head once he’s landed. He laughs and opens his eyes to see Roman directly under him. There’s no doubt about it now; Roman is definitely blushing. For that matter, so is Virgil.

There’s also no way Virgil can deny his crush anymore. But that doesn’t mean he has to deal with it, right? ...Right...

Desperate to put an end to the awkwardness, Virgil stands and offers his hand to Roman. He takes it and pulls himself to his feet. They make eye contact for a second before Virgil looks down at his hands. I wonder what would’ve happened if I’d kissed him.

Nope, nope, nope. Not gonna think about that. Don’t have to deal with that, remember?

“I, uh, wonder what’s taking Patton and Logan so long with the snacks,” Roman finally says, breaking the tense silence. Virgil wants to sigh in relief.

Instead, he simply responds, “I’m not sure. Let’s go see.” They walk to the landing of the stairs. Strangely, there isn’t any sound coming from the kitchen. After walking down the first few steps, Virgil can see into the room. What he sees should come as a surprise, but it really doesn’t.

Apparently, trying to set up Roman and Virgil wasn’t the only reason why Patton wanted Logan to come with. Logan is pressed up against the counter, hand wrapped around Patton’s waist as they kiss. Patton’s palms hold Logan’s face, tilting it down to account for the inches Logan has on him.

Roman, standing right behind Virgil, mutters, “Okay. Okay then.” Virgil starts to laugh but forces himself to stop so Logan or Patton don’t hear. Carefully, they creep back to the bedroom, letting them have their moment.

“So how long do you think that’s been going on for?” Roman asks once they’re back sitting on his bed, Virgil back to being wrapped up in his blanket cocoon again.

“Honestly, I have no idea,” Virgil admits. “I kinda figured Logan had a crush on Patton, but I didn’t think they would actually get together, at least not this soon.”

“Yeah ever since their chemistry project, Patton's been crushing on Logan hard. He doesn’t shut up about it. Apparently,” Roman says, leaning in conspiratorially, “they’ve been talking a lot. Patton’s been so tired lately cuz they’re up til, like, 1 AM, video chatting.”

“That is news to me.” Virgil pauses, staring at the door. The two of them sit in silence for a while — comfortable silence — just waiting for Patton and Logan to reappear with the snacks they were supposed to be bringing. After about 10 more minutes, Virgil turns to Roman and asks, “Do you think I should call them up? They’ve been down there for an awful long time.”

“Yeah. The last thing I want is for them to have sex on my kitchen counter.” Virgil winces at the image that appears in his head at the words.

After Roman yells down to Logan and Patton, Virgil says, “Oh, god. Please never say anything like that again. I do not need that image in my head.” Roman laughs.

“An image of what?” Patton asks, walking in the room with Logan not far behind. Thankfully, they had the decency to pretend like they weren’t just making out. But Patton didn’t have so much decency to pretend like he hadn’t been eavesdropping on their conversation. They drop a few Halloween-size, assorted candy bulk bags and two big bowls of popcorn on the bed.

“Nothing,” Virgil answers, grabbing a handful of popcorn and shoving it in his mouth. “Ooh, Sour Patch Kids.” He grabs four individual bags of them and drops them in his lap.

“Jeez, hungry much?” Roman teases. Virgil flips him off and takes another handful of popcorn. Roman tries to sneakily grab a handful of mini bars from the bag of chocolate-based candy, but Virgil notices.

“Jeez, hypocritical much?” he quips, smirking.

“Oh, fuck off,” Roman responds, sticking his tongue out like a little kid. Virgil sticks his out right back. Patton, who, unsurprisingly, hates swearing, quickly attempts to change the subject.

“Hey, I have an idea! Let’s play Two Truths, One Lie! Then we can get to know each other better!” he suggests. The rest of them agree, and Patton goes first. They take turns, occasionally sharing stories and facts about themselves. And when they get bored of Two Truths, One Lie, they switch to Truth or Dare, and Virgil has to eat a spoonful of mayo.

Patton’s the first to fall asleep. Not long after, around 2 AM, Roman and Logan follow. Virgil sits wrapped in his blanket cocoon in the darkened bedroom. He stares out the window at the dim stars, thinking about how lucky he is. He has three great friends who he can make memories and laugh with.

He turns to look at Roman, asleep on the bed beside him.

“Thank you,” he whispers, “for surprising me.”

#virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #thomas sanders #prinxiety #logicality #sanders sides #high school au #fanfiction #fanfic #one day...

15 notes · View notes

2seokfan · 4 years

Text

Scarlet & Hazel | Ch. 2

pairings: hoseok x reader x yoongi

genre: fluff, very light angst, smut (future)

word count: 4.3k

chapters: ch.1, ch.2, ch.3, ch.4

summary:

Just cause you’re living paycheck to paycheck in a tiny apartment even after graduating college doesn’t mean you’re not happy. So what if your best friend is working her dream job making close to six figures every year? So what if she’s in a loving, committed relationship with her perfect boyfriend that you’re 99% sure is going to propose to her sometime next year? It doesn’t matter that your idea of a perfect relationship is a $9.99 bottle of wine on Friday nights while you binge watch Netflix specials.

Ok so maybe you’re a teensy bit miserable. Maybe you have no idea what you’re doing with your life. Maybe all you need to do is accidentally cross paths with two hybrids who will drastically change that.

Meet “Scarlet” and “Hazel”, two of the most gorgeous hybrid men you have ever laid eyes on. With their help, you learn that life is an adventure, a roller-coaster with ups and downs, and you were too preoccupied with yourself to climb out of your own predicament. And hey, you’re not much of a romantic, but with these two, you just might change your mind.

a/n: Ch. 2 is here yay!!! Also please note that Scarlet and Hazel are definitely Hoseok and Yoongi, only the reader doesn’t find out their real names in this chapter. And please don’t hesitate to give me feedback or constructive criticism whether through comments or messaging <3

tag list: @wilhelminalucinda @ghostkat23 @ayoo-bangtan

Blonde lady retracts her hand from orange hair’s arm, one eyebrow twitching in irritation.

“And who might you be?”

You’re standing in front of the boys so again, you can’t really see their faces, but you take this opportunity to speak while they’re still frozen in shock.

“I’m their owner! Who are YOU and why are you bothering my boys?” You try to sound tough but internally your mind is going haywire. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. What the FUCK am I doing??!!

“Oh really? Their ‘owner’ huh? How convenient of you to show up right now.” Uh oh. She sounds skeptical.

To your utter surprise, orange hair wraps an arm around your shoulders and gives you a quick back hug. This does nothing to help your nerves because you’re suddenly being bombarded by the delectable scent of honey and cinnamon. Jesus Christ why does he smell so good? Get it together Y/N!

“That’s right! She’s our owner. We’ve been waiting for you!”

You quickly recover from your sensory overload. If the boys are playing along, that must mean they do need your help.

“Are you now?” Blondie’s voice is venom at this point. “What are their names?”

Fuck.

“Uh…” You glance at her red nails. Damn they are even sharper up close. “His name is Scarlet,” you point your thumb backwards at orange hair. “And uh…” you glance at your latte, now cold, “and he’s Hazel!” You gesture somewhere behind you to your left, where you assume white and grey hair is standing.

Blondie’s frown deepens. She crosses her arms, temporarily sheathing her weaponous nails. Still slightly unconvinced but unable to prove otherwise, she retorts back. “Then why are your hybrids collarless? You know I could call Hybrid Services on them right here, right now!”

At this point her arctic fox has now completely given up on calming her down, opting to stand behind her owner with her head bowed down. You feel so sorry for the poor thing, having to deal with such a selfish owner. But unfortunately you have no time to dwell on that. You have to think fast. If blondie calls Hybrid Services it’s over for you and the boys because you have no proof of ownership.

“W-well why do you think we’re out shopping today?” You speak a little too fast so you take a deep breath and slow down, pretending you didn’t just think up this idea right now. “I’m planning on buying them new collars of course. Their old ones wore down so we decided to throw them away. I was with them all day today and nobody complained. The one time I leave them to go buy a cup of coffee and I come back to a lady yelling at them? Do you have nothing else to do with your life than to bother other people? How embarrassing!”

Blondie’s eyebrows shoot up so high they almost disappear into her untouched roots. Her face is now comical, identical to a pop-eyed goldfish.

“I-I…” Her cheeks are now the same color as her nails. “I was only trying to find a suitable mate for my hybrid. Surely as their owner you understand that…”

“But did they say ‘yes’?!” You interrupt her, not wanting to deal with any of her bullshit. You’ve got the upper hand at this point. You cock your head to the side and put your free hand on your hip.

“No they didn’t but that’s why I was looking for their owner. It doesn’t matter what they think!” Wow what a class A bitch. You can’t believe she still thinks she has a chance.

You hear a low growl coming from white and grey behind you.

“Well I don’t work like that. I’ll never disregard the opinions of my hybrids and put them down like you do!” You’re fuming at this point, nerves completely gone. “I’m really sorry you think that way and I hope one day you see just how narrow-minded you are. But for now kindly fuck right off!” You finish by sending her one of your most vicious glares.

Game, set, and match.

Blondie blinks twice, frozen on the spot, and completely lost for words.

“Miss… let’s go.” Sylvia’s timid voice breaches the silence as she tugs on her owner’s sleeve.

Blondie quickly comes back to her senses. “Hmph!” She turns on her heel, nose in the air, and grabs her poor fox by the arm, yanking her along.

Sylvia turns her head back and manages a quick “I’m sorry” before she is marched off. You give her a reassuring smile, letting her know that she has nothing to do with this entire situation.

As soon as they are out of sight, you let out a huge breath, unaware that you were holding it for so long.

“Well that was…” You spin around, facing the hybrid boys for the first time, “Oh wow...”

Because in front of you stand two of the most gorgeous men to have ever blessed your eyes with their presence.

Now you’re speechless.

‘Scarlet’, the orange haired hybrid, is standing right in front of you with both hands on his hips and a blinding wide smile on his face. His tousled orange locks are parted, showing the full length of his chiseled face. With a sharp, upturned nose and a jawline that could cut, he looks effortlessly handsome. Now that you have time to observe him up close, you notice that he’s a red fox hybrid, which explains why blondie wanted him for poor Sylvia.

‘Hazel’, the white and grey haired hybrid, is standing slightly behind ‘Scarlet’ with his arms crossed and a sleepy look on his face. If you could describe him in one sentence, it would be ‘I know I’m fluffy but don’t fuck with me’. You have this primal urge deep down to touch his hair and squish his cheeks but somehow your instincts are telling you that if you attempted to do this he would scratch both your eyes out. He looks to be some sort of extremely long-haired cat, you’re guessing a Maine Coon, but you’re not too sure.

Faced with such beauty, you suddenly become hyper conscious of yourself. Oh shit. You’re basically barefaced, with unfilled eyebrows and chapped, coffee-stained lips. You look down and take in the bleach stain on the left knee of your sweatpants, then you notice the cocoa powder from this morning’s tiramisu on your tank top. Wow the one day I run into hot guys and I had to look like a mess express.

Your eyes travel back to the boys. ‘Scarlet’ now looks slightly concerned, his wide smile slowly disappearing.

“Are you ok? You’ve been silent for awhile now…”

You’re brought back to earth, away from your mental pity party. There’s nothing you can do about your current state of being, so why wallow?

You quickly shake the thoughts out of your head. “Sorry I zone out a lot.”

You then remember why you’re talking to the boys in the first place. “But anyways, are you guys ok?? I’m sorry to surprise you like that but I just couldn’t stand by and watch her harass you.”

‘Hazel’ speaks to you for the first time, his voice low and slightly scratchy in timbre. “We’re fine now,” then in a quieter tone, “thank you.”

“I’m glad I could help!” You offer him a small smile.

Your mind drifts to blondie again and instantly your smile turns into a frown. “I just don’t understand what her problem is! Sure there’s a collar law but it’s barely enforced this day and age!”

Hybrid laws have drastically changed in the last ten years. Although there are tons of improvements needed, since hybrids are still under the jurisdiction of their owners, small laws like the collar law are extremely lax nowadays. Think about it like jaywalking in the city. Sure it’s technically illegal but if no one gets hurt then nobody cares if you do it, unless an officer is bored and has nothing else to do.

“Well we appreciate you stepping in before she could call Hybrid Services anyway. That really saved our tails! Thank you!” You can see ‘Scarlet’ is visibly relieved to be out of that sticky situation, a smile back on his handsome face.

“Yeah no problem!” You take a sip from your cold hazelnut latte, trying to distract yourself from staring at him. He’s radiant, and if you look any longer you swear you’ll combust.

“By the way,” ‘Scarlet’ is now looking at your coffee cup, “where’d you get your coffee? We’ve been meaning to grab a drink but we’re new in town so we don’t know where to look.”

“Oh this? It’s from my favorite coffee shop! You guys should really check it out.” Your eyes light up and an idea pops into your head. “Wait, are you guys free right now?”

“Well we were just walking around the city before granny interrupted us so yeah, we’re free.” ‘Hazel’ answers nonchalantly, then shrugs. “Whats up?”

“So…” You shift your weight from one foot to another, here goes nothing. “I was thinking I could treat you guys to coffee!” You’re surprised by your sudden courage. You’ve only just met them yet these boys are affecting you so much. If Karli were here she’d say you’re whipped.

“Hmm?”

“Say what?”

Both boys respond at the same time, blinking at you, surprise evident in their tone.

“What I mean is, I’d like to officially welcome you to town!” You’re hoping you don’t sound too creepy. Now that you think about it, a complete stranger treating two hybrids they just met to coffee can seem a little off-putting. “You guys don’t have to say yes though! I just… I didn’t like how blondie treated you and I wanted to make it up to you…” You’re trailing off now. Just shut up Y/N you’re talking too much again.

“I mean it’s not your fault though…” ‘Scarlet’ scratches the back of his head.

“Ok.”

You whip your head in ‘Hazel’’s direction, his answer surprising you. Maybe it’s his body language, or just his overall demeanor, but you didn’t expect him to accept your offer.

He looks ‘Scarlet’ in the eyes. “She did save our asses, and I’ve been craving an Americano.”

‘Scarlet’ nods once. “Ok! Lead the way, miss, um…”

“Y/N. You can just call me Y/N,” you blurt out, trying to ease the awkwardness, “Uh, cool! This way.”

The boys trail behind you as you lead them past the various designer stores, heading once again back to Cozy Coffeehouse. Being the self-conscious hoe that you are, you hope the barista doesn’t recognize you returning while still holding one of their drinks. You shield your face with your free hand, drawing a snort from ‘Scarlet’ as he finds the whole ordeal hilarious.

“Back again so soon?” The barista recognizes you instantly.

Ah fuck.

“Yep.” You smile sheepishly at him. “But this time it’s not for me.” You turn to the boys behind you. “What do you guys want?”

‘Hazel’ shuffles in front of you. “An iced Americano please. No cream, no sugar.” Wow, someone likes to have fun.

‘Scarlet’ is still staring at the drinks menu, tilting his head to the side and tapping his cheek with his index finger.

You point him in the direction of their small specials menu sitting near the register.

“Have you checked out their specials yet? They change it up every season!”

“Ooooh cherry blossom latte. I’ll take one of those!” He attempts to pull his wallet out of his back pocket.

“Oh no no no!” You tut, “It’s on me remember? I’m a working woman and I can afford two coffees. Now put that wallet away!”

After you’ve paid for the boys’ drinks you head to the corner where ‘Hazel’ has already plopped himself down onto one of the couches.

“Nice place.” He takes a sip of his Americano. “Nice coffee too.”

“Right?” You sit across from him.

‘Scarlet’ is still at the counter waiting for his drink, since the cherry blossom latte takes a notoriously long time to make.

“So what are you guys in town for?” You try to start conversation.

“Business.” He takes another sip. “But today we’re just shopping.”

“Oh ok.” He doesn’t leave you with much to respond to but you don’t blame him for being so guarded. There’s got to be a reason why they were wandering around town without a collar, much less an owner in sight, but it’s not your place to pry. You sit there in silence for a while.

“That took a long ass time but it’s so worth the wait!” ‘Scarlet’ skips back, happily slurping on his latte. “It’s so good! Try it hyung!” He shoves the drink in his buddy’s face.

‘Hazel’ leans over, taking a small sip of the latte, then proceeds to cough and sputter as ‘Scarlet’ hands him a napkin.

“Eugh what is that? It tastes like pure liquid sugar!” He coughs again into the napkin.

“Isn’t it good?” ‘Scarlet’’s tail wags happily before he sits down next to ‘Hazel’, who is now gulping his Americano, hoping to wash away the sickly sweet taste of that abomination of a latte.

You observe them quietly, their interactions making you giggle. They seem like polar opposites but somehow their personalities fit together like a puzzle.

As they settle down, ‘Scarlet’ sets his drink on the table and faces you.

“Thanks for the treat Y/N, we really appreciate it!” He always seems to have a small smile permanently etched onto his face. You realize that unlike some people who walk around with an RBF (resting bitch face), he seems to have a resting happy face. You never knew foxes to be so happy. The ones you’ve encountered at the clinic either seem to be extremely timid and introverted, or slightly arrogant and haughty. He was neither, an embodiment of pure sunshine.

“No problem!” You respond. “By the way, is ‘hyung’ your name?” you ask ‘Hazel’.

“Oh, no.” ‘Scarlet’ laughs at that. “We’re Korean, so in our language, ‘hyung’ is what we say to older males. It’s a form of respect to call them ‘brother’.”

“Oh!” You internally cringe at your ignorance. Oops. “Then what are your names, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I kinda like the names you gave us actually. You can keep calling us that.” Hazel answers, finally having gotten rid of the sugary aftertaste in his mouth. His expression is back to being unreadable.

“Mk.” Strange. They seem very open to you inviting them for coffee but they’re not keen on revealing much about themselves. You don’t push them for answers though, having no reason to garner any information out of them.

“So you said you’re a working woman. What do you do?” Like Hazel, Scarlet also seems eager to switch the topic of conversation away from them.

“Me? I work at a private hybrid clinic.” Unlike the boys, you have no secrets to keep, and you hope to build trust by being honest and open about yourself.

“That’s really cool! Are you a hybrid doctor?” He leans in slightly, giving you his full attention.

“Oh no.” you laugh, a little embarrassed about your shitty job. “I’m just the receptionist, so I get the wonderful pleasure of dealing with people like blondie every day. “ You roll your eyes, emphasizing just how much you can’t stand some of those self-entitled owners.

The boys seem genuinely interested about you and your career, with Scarlet finding ways to prompt you into speaking more about yourself. Hazel mostly sits back and listens, occasionally jutting in with one-liners. Before you know it, you’ve basically told them your whole life story.

You don’t consider yourself a private person, but you’ve never been so vulnerable to strangers before. You find it odd how comfortable you are around them, the only challenge being how hard it is to maintain eye contact, still finding them both ridiculously attractive.

They continue to sit with you, listening to you prattle on and on. Your conversation shifts to the topic of hybrid rights, which to no surprise, you find them equally as passionate about as you do. Scarlet is a very animated speaker, using tons of hand gestures and bouncing up and down on the couch, rattling poor Hazel, who’s just trying to finish the last of his Americano in peace. You discuss how the last decade has seen a drastic improvement in hybrid laws but you both agree that more has to be done. At one point Scarlet gets so excited he stands up, proceeding to then sit back down straight onto Hazel’s unsuspecting tail. A sharp MREOOW is heard, with the cat snatching his crooked tail away from the excited fox and placing it onto his own lap, where he can smooth the ruffled fur.

“Oops, sorry hyung.”

You’re laughing so hard there’s tears in your eyes. How can they be so hot but so goofy at the same time? The duality really popped out.

It’s only until you notice the sun setting through the window in the corner of your eyes do you finally realize just how long you’ve been sitting here, chatting with the boys. You could’ve sworn you’ve only been here for 20 minutes or so, but it’s actually been a couple hours??

The boys seem to notice the time just as you do.

“Wow I was having so much fun I lost track of time!” Scarlet exclaims as he checks the clock on his phone. “We really have to get back and pack.” He looks at you and sighs. “This is our last day here and we’ve got an early flight to catch tomorrow.”

Your heart sinks just a little, having gotten so attached to them in just a short amount of time, but you make sure to plaster on a smile.

“That’s ok. Thank you for spending the day with me! I’ve had a blast!” You’re especially sincere, glad you got to spend the day with some company instead of wandering around on your own.

As they are both standing up to leave, Hazel stares at you for a moment, face devoid of expression, drawing a small blush from your cheeks with how intense his gaze is. He seems to come to a decision because he leans into Scarlet’s ear and whispers something that you can’t make out. The fox’s eyes shoot up for a second, then he quickly nods.

“Um, Y/N?” Scarlet gives you the biggest puppy dog eyes, soft orange ears tilting down anxiously. “I know we’re leaving tomorrow but can we have your number? We’d love to have a friend in this city!”

How can you say no to that face??

“Of course!” Your heart is beating a mile a minute, excited at having an opportunity to keep in touch with your new friends. You whip out your phone and give them your digits.

“Thank you again Y/N! We’ll be back. Promise!” Scarlet gives you one last blinding smile, waving his hand before turning to head out the door.

“Bye Y/N.” A small, sleepy smile also forms on Hazel’s face before he too, turns around and shuffles behind his companion.

You wave as you watch them exit the cafe, deciding that it’s also time for you to head home.

You barely remember the drive back, with the two hybrids occupying 99% of your thoughts. You park your car in your designated parking spot (the extra $50 per month well worth not having to find street parking every night in your shady neighborhood) and make your way up the stairs of your small complex. When you stand in front of the door to your apartment, you notice some light shining from the crack underneath, signifying that your roommate is back.

“Ayah! You’re home!” You call out to her the moment you shut the door behind you.

Your roommate Ayah is in the kitchen, music playing on her small portable speaker as she stirs some sort of sauce in a pot.

“Y/N hi! I made spaghetti so I hope you’re hungry!” She turns and faces you with a big grin, ladle in hand and an apron that says “Kiss the Cook” tied around her waist.

“Yum! You know I can’t turn down anything you make.” You’re glad she’s back, having been gone this time for over a week. You were getting awfully lonely at home.

As soon as she’s done cooking, you both settle down on the small dining table and dig into the pasta, catching up on what you’ve both been up to. You know Ayah works for the medical industry and has to travel a lot for her job but that’s about it. Her career is a little too complicated for a simpleton like you to understand. She’s aware of this so instead she just fills you in on where she’s been the past week.

“They sent me to the middle of nowhere this week I swear Y/N! It was miserable.” She lets out a long sigh. “But at least that’s over for now. Too bad I have to leave again on Monday.”

“Aww, so soon?” You pout. See? This is why you two never have a chance to get closer. Oh well, at least you’ll make the most out of your time together now.

“But, there’s a huge convention coming up so you know what that means?”

“What?”

“Vegas baby!!”

“Nice!” You almost spew out sauce trying to reply to her, which is kinda gross you admit. But you can’t help wolfing down your food since all you’ve had today was coffee and tiramisu. She hands you a paper towel and you gladly accept, wiping the marinara off your cheek.

As you’re finishing your pasta, Ayah’s tone becomes a little more serious.

“Hey Y/N. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about the lease.” She starts to gather the empty plates, rinsing them then putting them in the dishwasher. Before you get the chance to voice your confusion at where this conversation is going, she continues.

“So you know how this year’s lease is ending in like four months right?”

“Mhm” you hum, now guzzling a glass of water to wash down the food.

“And I love having you as a roommate and stuff so it’s got nothing to do with you but…” She pauses for a moment, contemplating how to form the correct words. “Recently I’ve just been promoted.”

“That’s awesome I’m so happy for you!” And you genuinely are. But it does sting a little, knowing the people around you are doing so well in life and you’re still stuck in a job you don’t really enjoy.

She sits back down at the table. “Well, I’ve been thinking and, now that I’m going to get paid more, I kinda want to have a place of my own.” She looks a little nervous breaking the news to you. “And please know that this has nothing to do with you as a roommate, it’s just that I’m getting older now and I want to start living independently.”

Honestly? You sort of had a feeling this was coming. Ayah is pretty successful and it’s a miracle she’s decided to live with a roommate till now. She’s being perfectly reasonable, giving you a sufficient amount of time to decide on your future living conditions. It still hurts though, not gonna lie.

“It’s ok. I understand, I really do.” You reassure her. “Thanks for telling me this now so I have time to work out what to do.” Your voice is a lot quieter now that reality has kicked in.

“And I promise to either help you find a new roommate or a new place to live. I’m not gonna leave you hanging.” She determines.

“Thanks girl, I appreciate it.” You try to smile at her but it comes off a little weak.

Later on in the evening, after you’ve cleaned up and lied down on your bed, you let your thoughts roam free.

What a day, Y/N.

You can’t believe so much has happened in the span of around 12 hours. Although Ayah’s news about moving out when the lease ends did hurt a little, it was not surprising, and you find yourself thinking again about the two very beautiful hybrid men you ran into today. You come to a conclusion. Even though today didn’t end on a very happy note, you still believe that it was an overall very good day. And you even made two new friends!

Right on cue, your phone vibrates near your pillow. You grab it and check that an unknown number has texted you in a group chat.

You swipe to open the message.

Unknown: Hey Y/N it’s your favorite fox Scarlet!!! (this is followed by a string of emojis) Anyways we want to thank you again for today, we had so much fun!! (more emojis)

You: Hi Scarlet! :) I had fun too!

Scarlet: Also doesn’t this remind you of Hazel??

He sends a picture of a very fluffy but grumpy looking cat with the caption “Why am I here when I can be sleeping??”

You laugh out loud, trying to muffle the sound with your pillow.

You: LMAO im dEAD

Unknown: Hey shut up fox that does NOT look like me. Now let me sleep

Ah so that must be Hazel, ever the happy kitty.

Scarlet: It’s not even that late tho?! You sleep too much cat

Hazel: And what about it? Also hi Y/N please tell the fox to let us sleep, we have a flight to catch tmrw

You: Hi Hazel! And sorry for blowing up your phone sleepyhead

Scarlet: Ok ok fine! Night Y/N we’ll talk to you soon!!! (another shit ton of emojis)

You: Night boys have a safe flight tmrw!

You lie back down with a big smile on your face. That definitely improved your mood. You snuggle up under your blanket.

Right before you drift off to sleep, you remember that you forgot the one chore you promised to do today, which was to go grocery shopping.

FUck.

Oh well, you’ll do that tomorrow.

Previous | Next

#bts fic #bts hybrid au #hoseok fanfic #yoongi fanfic #bts smut #bts fluff #bts fanfction #hybrid hoseok #hybrid yoongi #bts hybrid fic

75 notes · View notes

rhubarbbaby · 4 years

Text

Strawberries and Art 1

Jihoon x Y/N

Genre: College AU, Fluff Word Count: 2k Summary: Like every passionate art student, you spend most of your time immersed in your drawings and paintings. The day you meet Jihoon, your everyday life suddenly gets a lot more exciting…

All chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5

Chapter 1

Changing the song that was currently playing on your phone, while at the same time trying very hard not to reduce your walking speed was definitely (much) harder than you thought. Twenty minutes ago you had still been asleep in your comfy bed while dreaming about... dreaming about what?

The memories of your dream had slipped away the second your alarm went off. The excessively shrill, piercing tone you had set for your alarm used to get you into a lot of fights with your brother when you were still living at home, because “What the fuck is that sound? Can´t you just use that weird guitar riff like any other fucking normal person?” Although you did always feel a tiny bit of pity for your brother and knew that he had a point (you would of course never admit that), you never changed the sound. You surely were not fond of it yourself but you needed something to pull you out of your sleep.

Even before you started attending university you were used to staying up late. Undeniably, staying up late was and will never be a healthy way to treat your body, you are very much aware of that. Your body wanting to sleep for seven maybe even eight hours was something you have always considered the cruelest inconvenience, the most ridiculous joke, the crudest rule the universe has set for you. Late at night was the time it was the easiest for you to pour all your thoughts, all the inspirations you had collected during the day into your drawings. How were you supposed to bend all your whirls of ideas into drawings if your body was basically screaming at you to finally go to bed? How presumptuous of your body to expect you to fulfill his basic needs.

But no matter how tired you were you nearly never managed to fall asleep before one in the morning which made you resort to the drastic measure of changing your alarm sound to said very shrill tone. After sometimes only four hours of sleep, your body was not willing to let you jump out of bed as simple as that. One could say the fatigue almost holds you captive every morning until around nine am when you normally start to free yourself from the clutches of your own tired body.

Yesterday you unintentionally set the aforementioned alarm an hour too late which had led to you now having to rush to the lecture hall. Your art history class would be starting in three minutes and you needed at least another five to even get to the entrance door. Despite having had to open the music app on your phone just to select a completely different album until you could finally pick your desired song, you were sure you didn´t lose more than a few seconds. Now accompanied by an uplifting song (not too uplifting though because it was still only eight in the morning which was definitively too early for upbeat music) and the tapping of your shoes on the asphalt you were practically running to your destination.

The moment you finally reached the entrance door a wave of relieve swept over you. Your lecture had only started two minutes ago, which wasn´t too bad. You hurried down the hallway and slipped quickly through the door. Your eyes darted to the front to see if the professor had already started the class. Luckily for you she was still setting up the projector for her visual presentation. While you tried to breathe calmly, which turned out to be quite a challenge after you had just crossed the entire campus in record time; you were looking for a free seat in the back. But this was an art history class. At eight in the morning. Nothing like an art history class before ten guarantees such an absurdly small amount of participating students. It was not difficult for you to find a free seat. (To be precise: you caught sight of more than twenty free seats.)

Seeing how many of your fellow students had deemed this class as “not worthy waking up for” you suddenly felt a bit insecure and ridiculous. You hated to miss class, even if it was art history. You knew that by simply listening to the professor you would already internalize some of the information. That meant you wouldn´t have to study as much at home anymore which meant you had more time for your drawings. Simple equation. Nevertheless you were feeling like the biggest nerd sitting in a half empty lecture hall with five other students.

Shaking your head slightly as if to get those unnecessary thoughts out of your brain you decided that it wouldn´t do you any good to continue thinking about your situation, so you simply took out your notebook and a pen to prepare yourself for the lecture. Four minutes after the professor had started speaking, your thoughts were already drifting off and your notebook got slowly filled with small doodles instead of the notes you were supposed to be taking.

Putting your things back into your bag you looked at your phone to check the time. It was 10 am. The professor´s voice long condemned to a pleasant background noise, you had spent the last two hours dozing and scribbling in your notebook. You hadn´t had breakfast and you were not hungry but you knew that giving your body some fuel in form of food would be the right thing to do right now. It was Friday and you knew your friend Jo did have morning classes just like you, so you decided to shoot her a message.

You: Hey wanna get breakfast?

You already felt your phone buzz after you left the lecture hall.

Jo: Sure! I´ll wait at the cafeteria.

Happy that you wouldn´t have to eat alone you grinned at your phone and started walking towards your friend. Entering the cafeteria you saw Jo waving while sitting at one of those big tables on the side. You shot her a smile and made your way over. With an overdramatic sigh you slumped down in the chair opposite of her.

“Was art history that bad?” she chuckled. “Honestly? I was just too tired to pay attention. I will never understand why classes that early even exist... It´s inhuman.” you retorted while shaking your head to emphasize your point. “Pretty sure some really sick sadistic psychopath invented morning classes.” She laughed but you knew she hated to get up early just as much as you. “Does Hansol not have class this morning?”

Hansol had been Jo´s boyfriend for a few months now. It´s definitely not that you are one of those girls who are obsessed with finding a boyfriend, haunted by the mission to find a pretty boy to post pretty Instagram pictures with, but Jo and Hansol´s relationship was kind of perfect, or so it seemed to the public eye and even though you (most certainly) were not one those girls, you couldn´t help but feel a bit jealous. Jo was one of your best friends and you were aware that their relationship wasn´t always ideal. They had smaller and sometimes bigger fights, like any other couple but they both were as happy as you had ever seen them and they supported each other unconditionally. When they got together you were scared you´d feel excluded when the three of you would hang out but Hansol turned out to be a total sweetheart (there really was no other way to describe him) who made sure you never felt left out.

“He does. He just was too lazy to get up today.” She shrugged. “You want pancakes? I´ll go get the food.” “Sure!” Fifteen minutes later both of you were not hungry anymore. “I didn´t even realize how hungry I was.” “I only ever realize how hungry I am when I start eating.” you agreed. “I totally forgot to ask you but did you already start drawing that portrait assignment?” “Don´t even remind me. I still have no idea who I´m going to draw. I don´t just want to draw some random celebrity. Everyone is going to do that and I really want it to be good.” “Yeah…but not everyone will be doing it as good as you. But like, have you thought about asking someone to model for you?” “Jo, are you indicating you want to be my muse?” you laughed with her tuning in right away. The mental image of her posing for you was more than just ridiculous. Just as she was about to answer, a boy interrupted the two of you. “You´re Hansol´s girlfriend right?” he asked her.

You had seen him passing you on the hallway before but until now he had never caught your eye. One look was enough for you to realize how pretty he actually was. Just like a mathematician who recognizes numbers everywhere with which they can explain mundane processes, just like a linguist who notices every subtlety of every single word and could distinguish the hidden delicate messages between each syllable, just like that you saw lines, strokes, patterns in the most varied and vivid colors that joined together in your imagination to form drawings and paintings in every place. You could be looking at any flower and the way the petals bent, the way the leaves curled around the stem would just make sense to you. That´s how you were looking at that boy´s face right now. His face seemed to consist out of tender drawn lines that intervened at the perfect spots. His eyes, his nose, his mouth that was slightly twisted upwards into a smile, everything just fit so wonderfully together you inevitably had to think about how amazing it would be to draw him.

“Yup, that´s me.” Jo´s voice had yanked you back out of your thoughts. “Me and Hansol have a class together. I forgot I still had one of his books and I think he needs it to study for that exam next week. Can I just leave it with you?” He was holding out a book to her. “Sure! That´s really sweet of you, looking out for him like that.” With a comically exaggerated gesture he bowed before us. “The pleasure was all mine,” He grinned. “I´m Jihoon by the way.” “I´m Jo and this is Y/N.” Only now he turned his upper body and finally looked at you. You felt like a deer caught in the headlights. Maybe it was just your imagination, caused by the desire to be noticed by this undoubtedly (really fucking) attractive boy, but his gaze seemed to have remained on you for a tiny second too long for it to be considered normal.

“Delighted to meet you guys.” he stated with a childlike smile on his face which made his eyes disappear. “There´s this party tomorrow. Hansol said he´s coming. You two should come as well.” “We´ll think about it! Sounds like fun though.” Jo answered for the both of you. “Perfect! I should get going. I have class in a bit.” His gaze was turned back onto you. “You´re still going to eat that?” “Wha…What?” “That strawberry. You´re not going to eat that?” Only then you realized you had left a single strawberry on your plate. “No..you can have it.” You stuttered your reply, your eyes wide from embarrassment because you hadn´t immediately figured what he had meant. He picked up the strawberry and took a bite. “Thanks!” he grinned. And then he winked at you. Just like that. Without warning. Promptly you could feel your cheeks turn slightly red and you wanted nothing more than to hide your face in your hands but at the same time you could still not stop staring at his face. In that moment you would´ve sworn that wink was the cutest (but somehow also hottest) thing you had ever seen in your life. “See you at the party!” with that he turned away from you and made his way over to the exit.

Only now your cheeks slowly lost color and your breath seemed to slow down again. You looked at Jo. She looked at you. You didn´t have to say anything , she had already deciphered you. “So you think he´s hot?” she beamed. “So fucking hot.”

What you couldn´t have seen, of course, was the smile with which Jihoon had left the room. What else was he supposed to do when you were that damn cute?

Hi! It´s me, Jo. I´d like to thank you for reading my stuff! I really hope you enjoyed it. If you have any feedback, comments, requests, questions please let me know!

#jihoon x reader #woozi x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen ff #seventeen fluff #jihoon fluff #woozi fluff #kpop ff #seventeen #rhubarbbabywrites

95 notes · View notes

shannygoatgruff · 4 years

Text

My Brother’s Keeper - Chapter XIX

Genre: Psychological Thriller

Modern Ivar X Modern Hvitserk

Rating: MA+18

Overall Warning: Dark story told from an emotionally distributed person’s POV with graphic and sadistic material including rape, terror, torture, kidnapping, drug use, slash, implied incest, necrophilia, and insecurity. Heavy trigger warnings.

Chapter Warning: Thoughts of murder.

A/N: So, I know I haven’t been posting much. Real life has been throwing some things my way and I haven’t felt much like writing. But, I finally finished this one. Just one more chapter after this one and it’s done! Whoot!!

Chapter XIX - Ivar’s POV

There’s something about the confident way she holds her head, with her chin stuck out and her shoulders back that draws a smirk to my lips. She’s proud – I wonder how long that will last. “Dr. Svensdottir, I presume?” Her small hand instantly disappears inside mine as her delicate fingers scrape against my palm. I would have thought a woman with such a presence would have a much firmer handshake. But, maybe playing coy is the way she tricks men into telling her what it is that she wants to know, “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

With just the slightest bit of a nervous nod, her hand slides out from mine before she smooths her palm over the front of her skirt. What exactly is that little move about? Is she trying to wipe me off her hands or stop herself from sweating? “Please call me, Gert, Mr. Ragnarsson.”

“Ivar,” I correct, dispensing with the formalities. The crease in her brow softens and her shoulders drop just a hint before she gestures for one of the two high back chairs on the opposite side of her desk. With a slow blink, I look from her outstretched hand to her choice of chairs before heading toward the other seating area. This area, presumably set up for therapy sessions, is more intimate. I like this space better, although it’s hideous. The oversized, ugly green chairs are placed close together, guaranteeing that we will be sitting next to each other, with no desk separating us. Don’t be afraid, Blondie.

Unbuttoning my suit jacket, I take a seat on one of the green seats and casually cross my leg over my lap. Smiling, I turn to face her, “So, how’s our boy?”

The skirt she’s wearing is entirely too short to be professional. I wonder if this is how she tricks Hvitserk into talking about shit that he’s not supposed to, with the allure of sex. As her toned outer thigh exposes when she crosses her leg, my eyes can’t help but to drop to her left foot that shakes ever so slightly by her right calf. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Ivar. Hvitserk talks about you often.”

Oh, really? I wonder what my dear brother has told this whore about me. “All good things, I hope.” My cheeks ache from forcing a smile this wide. Anything to hide what I’m really feeling, which is more akin to reaching my hand between us and feeling her hyoid bone shatter beneath the weight of my thumb. “If they weren’t, I’ll have to blame it on his condition.” Careful, as not to make my laugh seem too forced, I chuckle easily and wipe my smile with the pad of my finger, before turning a more serious gaze on her.

“Well,” she starts, choosing her words carefully, “you know that Hvitserk has been on a long and arduous road during his treatment. But,” she stammers quickly, looking up to make sure that she hasn’t completely turned me off before she’s gotten to the core of her argument, “he’s making tremendous progress.” Her lashes blink slowly over her large greenish-blue eyes.

Does this shit really work on the guys she meets?

Feigning interest in this doctor is proving to be more difficult than I remember. Maybe it’s because it’s been so long since I hunted, and I don’t have time for all the bullshit and games. Right now, I just want to do what I want to do and get it over with. Yeah, I’d like to enjoy the chase, but I can always enjoy the next one. I deserve this one. A quick kill, after all this damn time. Shit, especially this bitch? She owes this to me. But bitches like this…gotta make her fear me before I make her feel me. Fuck… “Has he, now? Does that mean that he’ll be able to come home soon?”

“Well,” Is she fucking smirking? “I’m afraid that Hvitserk won’t be able to leave here – not for a very, very long time.”

“Wait, you just said,” I sit up straighter and lean closer to her.

“I said he’s made progress, not that he’s ready to leave,” she interrupts. Her eyes suddenly drop back to her lap and she studies her nails, “Those are two very different things, I’m afraid. We’ve actually reached a breakthrough in his treatment. In fact, that is what I would like to speak with you about, today. Hvitserk’s treatment.”

I’m going to kill her.

“Funny. I’ve been trying to talk to you about my brother for…months.” I feel the smile starting to spread across my lips. I know that I’m supposed to be here for Serk, but this bitch thinks she can outwit me. We need to establish the ground rules now, before she gets hurt.

Titling my head allows me to take in the slightest nuances of her expression. Like how her eyes enlarged just a smidge at my comment, and how hard she’s swallowing. God, her discomfort are dead giveaways - she doesn’t like being challenged.

“I’ve called and you’ve refused to talk to me. I’ve sent emails, which have gone ignored. I’ve come here and been turned away.” My voice remains even and calm, just to show that I pose no threat. Can’t have her scurrying off like a scared little rabbit, now can I? “It’s interesting to me that my brother has been here for almost 18 months and though I’m his Power of Attorney, this is the first conversation that you and I have had about him.”

“I need you to understand that as Hvitserk’s therapist, I thought it best that he not have any outside distractions.” She blinks so much when she’s nervous. It’s comical to watch her try to choose her words so they don’t offend me.

What did you tell her about me, Serk? Did you tell her that I have a penchant for flaying skin layer by layer? Or that I like to put pretty women’s faces in jars? I have a spot on my new bookcase that her face would look lovely on.

“Distractions?” I hope that didn’t sound how I meant it; like I want to take that stapler off the desk and bash her fucking face in. “I’m his only brother – I’m not a distraction.”

She shakes her head as if to clear her thoughts. She’s not used to not having the upper hand. This conversation isn’t going the way she’d hoped. “I didn’t mean that you would be a distraction. I only meant,” she looks up as if the words she needs are magically written on the drop ceiling, “he needs to fully concentrate on his treatment.”

“And what treatment is that, exactly?” I cross my legs and lean back in my seat. Show her that you’re relaxed. Don’t give her a reason to run. “That’s all I’ve been trying to find out – what is going on with my brother.” How does Hvitserk do it when he’s uncomfortable? Oh yeah, he drops his eyes and lowers his voice. He sounds desperate. “When they took us from the house, the police wouldn’t tell me anything about him. Everything was so sudden. It’s my job to protect him and I wasn’t there for him.”

Her legs uncross and she leans a little closer. This is what this bitch wants – she wants me to be vulnerable. Well hell, I can play along. Does she think this is a fucking therapy session? That’s she’s going to get some big insight on me? Oh blondie, you don’t want to see what’s behind this mask. “But, you were released?”

A slight nod to the left and a shoulder raise adds to my innocence, “Of course I was released. I’m innocent - I didn’t do anything. The police found no evidence to connect me to any of Hvitserk’s crimes.” The stain on the carpet, is a good place focus my gaze. If she can’t see my eyes, she can’t tell what I’m thinking, and as long as they’re lowered I can tell her anything. “I found my brother with his fiancé in my bedroom. I didn’t even know about that reporter lady in the basement…” The head shake seals the deal, “I mean, I knew he was stressed and dealing with a lot of things, blacking out and the like. But, I never suspected he was capable of anything like this. He was always so sensitive and gentle. I don’t know what happened. I didn’t do enough. I should have seen the signs – gotten him help sooner.”

Her eyes are locked on me and mine briefly catch hers before I lower them back to the floor. “You mustn’t be too hard on yourself. You did the best you could for him. You protected him the best way that you knew how.” This is too fucking easy. “Were you at the trial?”

Picking at the threads on the chair, I feel my face drop in disappointment, before I offer a slight nod, “By the time he went to arraignment they were already talking about insanity.” I clear my throat and lift my voice to just above a whisper. I don’t want to show too much emotion. This bitch does this for a living and I can’t risk her seeing through my act, “He was so out of it at his trial I doubt that he even knows that I was there. I don’t know what kind of drugs you had him on, but he didn’t recognize me.”

“I didn’t start treating him until after he was brought to our facility,” she smooths a strand of lent off the end of her skirt, keeping her eyes trained on her lap again. I’m almost impressed with how easily she lies. She knows damn well she was treating him beforehand. I saw that bitch in the courtroom. I heard her testimony. And for shits and giggles, if I hadn’t every fucking thing she dosed him with is right there in that thick ass file on her desk. Does she know who she’s talking to? I invented this fucking game. “I do know that he was heavily medicated when he first came here. It took some time before I was able to get his medication regulated and for him to become stable. He no longer has to be sedated.”

“Sedated?”

“Um, yes,” she looks at me briefly before looking around the room again, “part of his treatment is immersion therapy. Sometimes the sessions can get rather intense. The only way to pull him out of it, is to sedate him. It’s really for his own good.” She licks her lips nervously, “He struggles so much with his past.” Though I offer a knowing nod, I wonder if she can tell that I’m about two seconds off of her. “You’ll be happy to know that he’s much more active and alert now that his medication is properly managed.”

Really? Because twice when I came here to get him, he was still a fucking zombie. In fact, the last time, he fucking refused. No explanation, no crying, and bullshit; no nothing. He just fucking refused to leave with me. So tell me, bitch, how much more active and fucking alert is he?

“That’s so good to hear,” I remember seeing him bleeding on the very spot I’ve been looking at for the past ten fucking minutes, while he looked up at me from this floor, when I was standing outside of that sliding glass door. Is that her idea of active and alert? “When I try to check on him, he refuses my calls. It’s like he doesn’t seem to know who I am anymore, or that he doesn’t want to be bothered. Almost like he doesn’t need me anymore.”

“Mr. Ragnarsson,” she pauses, “Ivar, I assure you, Hvitserk is doing much better now. He’s become quite well adjusted and acclimated with our program.” She walks over to her desk to grab his file. I don’t give a shit what’s in there. It’s all a bunch of lies, anyway. “He’s actively participating in individual and group therapy sessions, now. He’s even joined a few activities. He’s especially good at drawing, did you know that?” That fake modest smile is enchanting. I wonder if I could carve it on her face permanently.

Drawing? Really? I’m supposed to be impressed because Serk can fucking draw? What the fuck is this whore talking about?

It’s laughable that she thinks all this progress Hvitserk has made is because of her. It’s a fucking joke. He hasn’t made any damn progress, it’s a fucking game. It’s all a part of my plan to get him the fuck out of here. He’s making progress because he’s not taking those fucking drugs anymore. He can finally fucking think in this fucking place and it’s only a matter of time before he walks out the front door with a trail of bodies behind him.

“Well, that’s wonderful. Then there should be no problem with me seeing him,” I try to keep my composure, but Gert gets on my fucking nerves. I just want to see my brother. “Is he going to join us?” I turn around and look at the door as if he’s going to come bounding through it at any moment.

As soon as I turn back to face her, I notice her crestfallen expression, “I don’t think that would be such a good idea, Mr. Ragnarsson.” She places a pair of black-rimmed glasses on her nose and opens the file as if she’s concentrating on the contents therein, “As I stated, Hvitserk has been making tremendous progress. He’s becoming an active participant in his recovery. He’s solely focused on the steps he needs to take to get well, and in a healthy place.”

I bite the inside of my bottom lip until I taste the coppery of blood in my mouth. The pain is the only thing keeping me glued to this seat at the moment, but I have no problem keeping my expression pleasant.

“What I mean by that is, currently, Hvitserk is concentrating on himself. He rarely talks about you anymore, or his past or the things that haunt him. He’s at a place where he’s looking forward to his future. I’m afraid,” she keeps her eyes trained on the file, “having a conversation with you would be a huge setback for him.” She fishes out a sheet of paper and leans over to hand it to me.

I would concentrate on how much her hand is shaking and how the way the paper gently rocks as it extends toward me, but I’m far more interested in the just how tightly she’s clutching the top of it in her hand. Her knuckles are almost white, she’s gripping it so tightly. Just to fuck with her, I grab the paper close to where her hand is, and let my fingers brush her knuckle.

I look at her, unmoved, then let my eyes roam over the contents of the paper now in my hands.

It’s a letter in Hvitserk’s handwriting.

“Is this mine?” I ask, folding the letter in half, ready to stuff it in the inside pocket of my jacket. I watch her nod. “If this is truly what Hvitserk wants, then I won’t stand in the way of his treatment. I just ask that you keep me updated with any changes to his condition.” I go to stand and watch as the doctor stands as well. I extend my hand to her and watch the way she considers taking it, “I apologize if I have seemed overbearing or bothersome, Doctor. I am just concerned about my brother.”

She smiles and nods her head in agreement, “I completely understand, and it’s not a bother. In fact,” she shakes my hand with both of hers, “it was nice to finally meet you. Hvitserk had talked about you so much I felt like I knew you. I’m sorry this was the outcome, but I really do think it’s for the best for his treatment. Maybe later, after he’s made more progress, we can try to start introducing you into some sessions, but for now…”

I wave her off with the slight of my hand, “Whatever he needs. I would never deny him anything.”

It takes everything I have not to burst out in a fit of laughter. This fucking doctor doesn’t know who she’s dealing with. Hvitserk isn’t fucking cured, he’s biding his fucking time.

Let’s meet somewhere quiet, a place just for us? Maybe we could get some friends together and have a party? Yeah okay, Serk…I know exactly what you’re saying.

It’s been too fucking long, and these motherfuckers are playing with fire. Just so happens that I’m gasoline and you’re the lit match.

I can’t wait to watch this motherfucker burn!

Previous chapter || Next Chapter

Please let me know if you want to be added/removed from tags:

@youbloodymadgenius @idea-garden @kol--mikaelson @mooniemouse @didiintheblog @waiting4inspiration @tempt-ress @where-beauty-goes-to-die @crazyaboutmotleycrue @oddsnendsfanfics @geekandbooknerd @ivarthebloodyking @honestsycrets @xbellaxcarolinax

#My Brother's Keeper #modern ivar #modern hvitserk #ivar the boneless #ivar lothbrok #Hvitserk #Hvitserk Whiteshirt #ivar and hvitserk #ivar ragnarsson #Hvitserk Ragnarsson #hvitserk lothbrok #shannyland

13 notes · View notes

emybain · 4 years

Text

Three Times Nova and Adrian Were Caught and One Time They Weren’t

I started this last night at 1am on a weeks worth of sleep deprivation so honestly I have no clue what this is and I apologize in advance. The title pretty much sums up the fic. note: while these are technically all connected (post supernova drabbles), they have no correlation with one another and are simple drabbles that are connected through the title and the setting. enjoy

CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR SUPERNOVA

Masterpost of all my Renegades fics

Nova was never one for public displays of affection, which was why she tried to avoid anything more than hand holding whenever she was somewhere with Adrian. After seeing that her bold kiss with him after her release from Cragmoor had ended up on just about every magazine cover and was the gossip of every tabloid, Nova would rather not have another repeat. The less attention on her in the months following the battle at the cathedral, the better. After all, while the former Council had tried to keep Nova’s true identity secret, someone had snitched to the press, and now the entire world knew the truth about Nightmare; not everyone was entirely fond of Nova. Still, it helped that she worked to prove she was a changed person, and her therapist was an angel by helping Nova find healthy coping methods for her trauma and anxiety and, more recently diagnosed, depression as well as just being an outlet that Nova could be completely honest with.

But even her therapist had advised against too much public affection with her boyfriend, worried that any backlash could hurt Nova and backtrack her on her progress to healing. Other than that, though, and the media’s affinity to finding flaws in Nova, especially her relationship with Adrian, being too romantic and affectionate in public made Nova feel awkward; she hated having a bunch of eyes on her, something she supposed she carried over from her days as an Anarchist.

She hadn’t fully considered how private elevators were, though.

After a morning of training together, she and Adrian decided to head upstairs to meet the rest of their team for lunch. From climbing the rock wall, to sparring, to finishing off with some laps around the track, they were both sweaty and somewhat gross.

Adrian passed her his water bottle, as hers was empty. She accepted it gratefully, taking a short swig, and then another.

“So,” she passed the bottle back to him, “does Oscar have a new place for us to try out, or are we just going to the cafeteria?” She secretly hoped for the first option, so as to avoid the repetitive food offered in the cafeteria and the occasional unfriendly stare by another Renegade in Nova’s direction, She usually returned those with a bright, sweet smile and a wave.

Adrian checked his wristband, probably for messages. “He hasn’t said yet. We can ask when we get up there.” He pushed his glasses up as they slid down his nose. Glancing at Nova, he cleared his throat. “So, speaking of food…”

Nova’s ears perked up, her chest expanding at the thought of where he might be going. “Yeah?”

He turned his body a bit to face her, hand snaking around her waist to rest on the bare skin beneath her ratty crop top. The skin there tingled beneath his fingers. “Since we don’t have patrol Saturday night, maybe we could go out? See a movie, grab food?”

Yes, Nova thought, holding back a giddy smile. She could tell he was holding back his excitement as well, trying to remain cool by relaxing the arm around her. They rarely got the chance to go out on dates, and most dates were just spent at his house anyway. They were never anything special, as all Nova cared about was spending time with Adrian, but there was something about being an actual teenager and going out on an actual date with her boyfriend that was exciting.

Nova bit her bottom lip, inching in a little; he did the same. “I’ll have to check my schedule. Will your girlfriend be okay with us hanging out?”

Adrian broke out into that smile that warmed Nova from head to toe. “She’s pretty amazing, so I’m sure it’s alright.” He leaned down, and Nova met him halfway, stretching up onto her toes.

“Then it’s a date.” She sighed as she kissed him, content. Sometimes, she felt as if she had fallen asleep somehow, and this was all a dream, that her life couldn’t have turned out this way. Sometimes, like now, she had to peek through her eyelids at Adrian to make sure that this was real. He was real. The shivers that ran down her spine from the gentle caress of his lips and tugging at her hips was enough evidence to prove this was reality and not a cruel dream.

Neither of them felt the elevator come to a stop, nor did they hear the doors open with a ding. They did, however, hear a throat clear.

Nova jumped away from Adrian, cheeks already heating up as she smiled apologetically toward the stranger in front of them. Beside her, Adrian checked the floor.

“I believe this is our stop,” he said, voice not giving away whether or not he was as embarrassed as Nova at being caught mid kissing session in an elevator at headquarters. In fact, he acknowledged the other Renegade by name as he led a near-trembling Nova out of the small compartment.

When they were out of earshot of other Renegades, making their way to the lobby, Nova inhaled a shaky breath. “This is why we have our rule. Hand holding only.”

Adrian took the opportunity to snag her hand, lacing their fingers together. He had a teasing smile on his face. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just irresistible, right?”

Nova restrained from slapping him. “I hate you.”

__________

What had started out as an innocent hangout, Adrian working in his sketchbook and Nova on her latest invention, eventually turned into Nova sitting in Adrian’s lap on the couch, straddling him on either side of his legs.

Her head tilted back to give his lips better access to her neck, holding back her heavy breathing. He kissed a trail along her jawline then down the base of her throat to her collarbone. A gasp escaped her, and she felt his wicked smile against her skin. He pressed his lips to the spot again, then dared to gently bite the area. This time, Nova moaned softly and pulled his head back up to eye level with her.

They blinked at each other, trembling and lips already beginning to become swollen from the activity. Adrian tucked a messy strand of hair behind Nova’s ear, then cupped her cheek. Nova leaned into his touch.

“I love you,” he murmured, stroking her jaw with his thumb. Nova grinned, her entire being in a state of bliss. How could she have been so lucky? How and why did she deserve this?

“I love you, too.” Nova pressed a kiss to his hand before pushing him back until he was lying on the couch.

They picked up where they left off, starting slow at first, but quickly growing as heated as before. Adrian’s hand traveled down to her thigh, tracing small circles, and then resting comfortably. Nova’s insides tingled; she wasn’t sure if she could handle so much contact for long without physically imploding. Her senses were overwhelmed with Adrian. She could only think of him and every one of his kisses.

Nova’s hand had just started to wander up his shirt when they both heard a swear.

“What the...holy shit.” Nova nearly fell off the couch in an effort to get off of Adrian. She pushed her hair back from her face, eyes widening at the sight of Max, who was holding a bowl.

“Max!” Adrian pushed himself up into a sitting position, grabbing a pillow to hug in his lap. Nova blushed even more, redness spreading to her neck. “What do you want.” He didn’t even bother phrasing it like a question, clearly upset about being interrupted. Nova had never heard him use that tone with his brother before.

Max looked between the two of them, a mixture of disgust and disappointment written in his features. “Really? Right in front of my salad?” He gestured toward his bowl dramatically. “A warning would have been nice, at least.”

“Gee, okay.” Adrian rolled his eyes, “Yeah, next time I’ll tape a sign on the door to the stairs saying ‘Do not disturb.’ That way the rest of the house knows to leave us alone. Great idea.” He glanced over at Nova, but she refused to make eye contact with either of them, burning a hole into the carpet. “What do you want, Max? We were in the middle of something.”

Max regarded his older brother with humor in his eyes. “Yes. I can tell you were very busy.”

“Max-”

Max held up a hand to Adrian’s warning, grinning evilly. “Okay, okay! You said the other day I could borrow some of your comics and I’m bored, so I thought I’d come down and get some.” He coughed lightly. “But I can see you’re a little,” his eyes darted to the pillow clutched to Adrian’s chest, “preoccupied.”

Adrian threw the pillow at Max’s head. He yelped and barely dodged it, but his salad fork fell from the bowl. Max frowned at it for a second before shrugging and picking it up, setting it back down in the bowl.

“I just wanted the comics, if that’s okay.”

Adrian looked as though he would rather not give his brother anything, but Nova was ready to be embarrassed in private. “Second to last shelf on the bookcase.”

Max smiled at her, and unlike the one directed previously at his brother, this one was almost sympathetic. “Thank you, Nova. I’ll be fast and get out of your hair. At least one of you is dependable.” Another pillow was chucked his way, but Max saw it coming and stuck a tongue out at his brother.

If it weren’t for the situation, Nova would have smiled. In such a short amount of time, Max had changed and become more relaxed and carefree, like a kid his age should be. He was still serious and wise beyond his years, but it was moments like this that betrayed his true age. Nova had a feeling the Supernova was probably the best thing to ever happen to him.

When Max left, a pile of comics in one hand, Nova fell back on the couch and buried her head in the cushions.

__________

A cold front had blown through Gatlon, so upon Adrian’s suggestion, they made cookies. Nova, having never baked or cooked something a day in her life other than simple concoctions like eggs, let Adrian do most of the work, helping when he needed small things done like measuring out something and handing him the cup. She scooped the dough into little balls when they were ready to bake, at least.

The clean up process was fairly simple, only being interrupted by the two sneaking attacks on each other with leftover cookie dough and anything that had spilled over onto the counter. Somehow, Nova ended up with flour in her hair and cookie dough on her cheeks. She managed to get Adrian back on his nose, across his chin, and smeared over his forehead. She was about to chuck a small handful of flour at him when he wrapped his arms around her, causing a shriek to escape her lips.

“Put me down!” she yelped, smacking his arm. He was laughing. “I can and will knock you out, Adrian Everhart!” One of his hands reached for hers, the one full of flour. He managed to grab her, and it took all of Nova’s strength to prevent him from using her own attack against her. In the end of the struggle, she was able to run her flour covered hand through his hair, leaving his dark curls a dusty white. She laughed at his shocked expression.

“I win,” she said smugly, unable to hide her proud smile. “For my victory, I request a kiss.”

Adrian’s eyes softened, and his hands went to her waist as he leaned down. Nova bit her lip, then reached up to taste the cookie dough smudged on his nose. He blinked at her when she moved away, swiping at the dough on his jaw with her finger.

“Mm.” She nodded, licking her fingers. “That’s good.”

“You’re unbelievable.” Adrian shook his head, flour raining down to his shoulders. “Is this all I am to you? A joke for your amusement?”

Nova nodded firmly. “Amuse me, court jester.”

He pulled her back to him, hand cupping her cheek. “Anything for you, my queen.” If it were anyone else, Nova would have gagged from the cheesiness. She even surprised herself these days with how dorky she could be at times, something that hadn’t been present a year ago. Every day, she was learning new things about herself that were shocking.

Adrian’s lips tasted of sugar and chocolate, remnants of the cookie dough. Their kiss, while leaving Nova light on her feet, was short lived, as a resounding knocking on the wall drew them apart.

“Parent present.” Hugh narrowed his eyes at Nova, although there was a twinkle of amusement in them. He liked to interrupt her dates with his son whenever he could, sometimes even joining in when he had the chance. Quite a few movies were spent with Hugh wedged between the two of them. He always liked to make his presence known when intruding on their privacy, too, such as knocking obnoxiously on doors and walls and anything he could get his hands on. “What are you two up to?” He looked them both up and down, taking in their messy states.

“Making cookies.” Adrian unraveled his arms from Nova’s waist, much to her disappointment. “Should be ready in a few minutes if you want to stick around.”

Simon entered the kitchen then, followed by Max. Adrian’s other dad glanced around the kitchen at the oven, then at the ingredients strewn across the counter. “I thought I smelled cookies. I didn’t know you could bake, Nova.” He paused. “Or cared to. It doesn’t really seem like your thing.”

Nova leaned back against the sink, attempting to shake flour from her hair. “I’m simply the helper. Adrian made them.”

Max snorted. “Last time Adrian tried baking, he burned the muffins. Are we sure we can trust the two of you to make something edible?”

“You probably shouldn’t.” Nova grinned. “But I know you won’t pass up an opportunity for free cookies.” Max had a bit of a sweet tooth, she had learned in the months following the Supernova. Sometimes, it got him into trouble, like when he had been caught eating a bowl of ice cream that was three times the serving size.

The timer on the oven went off then, and Nova watched as all four Everhart-Westwood boys surged forward to pull them out. She shook her head, rolling her eyes. What was she going to do with them, this new family she had been integrated into? Once enemies, they were now some of the people she held close to her heart. Sure, there were times when their pasts with one another stung, but things could be overlooked, problems could be worked out and solved; at the end of the day, Nova had a true family again, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

__________

The silence was unsettling as Simon and Hugh stepped through the door. Max was over at the Tucker’s apartment with the twins, while Adrian had Nova over to hang out. Simon had convinced Hugh that the young couple would be fine for thirty minutes while the two of them headed to the grocery store for dinner items. After all, the only thing Adrian and Nova had been doing since she had come over a few hours before was playing some zombie video game on Adrian’s gaming console. From the sound of things downstairs, Adrian had to teach Nova how to use the controller and explain how the game worked. While he usually had the game’s volume on high, the sound of gunshots and zombie gurgles echoing throughout the house, today he had replaced it with a local band’s music that Nova had mentioned she started listening to. It was possibly done for Nova’s sake, as Simon understood she hated the sounds of warfare and fighting, despite the brave mask she always put on while on duty. After a while, Adrian’s instructing disappeared and was replaced with normal conversation between the two, something Simon tried to not eavesdrop on, and the occasional shriek or swear. The swearing mostly came from Nova, so Simon couldn’t do much about it other than shake his head.

When Simon returned from the grocery store with his husband, though, not even music was playing from the basement, instantly raising his and Hugh’s suspicions. Exchanging worried, knowing looks, they dropped their bags in the kitchen and headed toward the stairs leading to their son’s room. Simon hated barging in on Adrian’s privacy; Hugh liked to refer to it as simply checking up on him. Nonetheless, the two headed down the stairs. Simon could see the faint glow from the television screen. Based on a few past experiences, including his own, Hugh’s, and even Max’s, Simon braced himself for the worst. He expected to find the two wrapped up in one another, making out as teens did to deal with their raging hormones.

What he didn’t expect to find was the game paused and Adrian asleep on the sofa, cheek resting on the cushion in his upright position against the armrest. Nova was indeed in his arms, but cocooned in a blanket. Her head rested on his chest, face peaceful. Simon had never seen her asleep before, as she didn’t need it to function like every other person did. Upon stepping closer, Simon noticed the way Adrian had pulled her close to him, almost protectively, and how his chin tilted down to rest on top of her head. On the coffee table sat his sketchbook, open to whatever he had been working on before falling asleep.

Simon nudged his husband, pointing to the drawing of a beaming Nova in a landscape of flowers. It looked like a camera shot, as Nova’s smile was aimed at something beyond the page. Caught in the middle of a laugh, perhaps, not even aware that her photo had been taken. Simon bet Adrian had drawn inspiration from a photo, and that the source of her happiness could somehow be traced back to him. After all, from what Simon could tell, Nova was always happiest when she was around Adrian.

“Told you they’d be fine,” Simon teased, reaching for Hugh’s hand and pulling it from his crossed arms. “We can trust them.”

Hugh made a noise in the back of his throat, eyebrows furrowed at the scene before them. He stepped closer to the sleeping couple, reaching down. “He didn’t even take his glasses off. You would think that them breaking twice before from falling asleep would have taught him by now.” Hugh plopped them down next to the sketchbook. Simon noticed how his eyes lingered a second too long on the drawing, softening. He had the same thought as Simon: their son was deep, deep in love.

Nova stirred from her spot on top of Adrian. Both Simon and Hugh froze as her eyes blinked open slowly, squinting at them. Immediately, Simon began coming up with excuses as to why they were down there. Embarrassing Adrian was one thing. He was their son, and as parents, embarrassing him was their job. Nova, however was another story.

His excuses died in his throat as a loose, sleepy smile formed on Nova’s lips at the sight of Adrian’s dads. She sighed and wrapped her arms around Adrian’s middle, somehow cuddling him closer than before. Just as quickly as she woke, Nova was back asleep within seconds, smile fading into a relaxed, peaceful expression.

Together, Simon and Hugh tiptoed their way back to the stairs.

#renegades #archenemies #supernova #supernova spoilers #Adrian everhart #nova artino #nodrian #anarchists #danna bell #ruby tucker #Oscar silva #max everhart #my writing

152 notes · View notes

taiblogcomics · 3 years

Text

The Love Boat

Hey there, distractions from current events. Haven't had a restock yet, so we'll be beginning the year with more New 52 Teen Titans terribleness. It'll be fine, I'm sure~

Here's the cover:

I said we were going to save it, but now that she's on the cover, I guess we can rant about this Raven redesign now. Surprise, I hate it! I get that she's starting as a villain now (which is another thing I hate), but the original Raven managed villain while still keeping her cloak and leotard look. I think it's supposed to be feathers covering her face, but I never understood why that was ...anything. I never understood anything about that. It looks silly and I don't know how she sees out of it. Like, she doesn't have to look like the '80s version or the animated design. I've seen good modernised Raven costumes. But this ain't it, chief.

And that's only one bit of the cover! Like, this isn't part of "Death of the Family", but it is sort of an aftermath issue. Hey, know what wasn't part of "Death of the Family" in the end? The "Death" part. Yeah, none of the major characters actually died. I'm pretty sure I've got a trade around here, maybe we can cover that little piece of edgelord dreck for an anniversary someday. Anything else about this cover? Well, I didn't even notice this shining guy at first. That's pretty bad when you have a guy glowing like the sun and yet you completely overlook him when you pull the comic from the shelf~

Speaking of the light guy, think this'll be related? We open with a kid named Kwon Yi, who can manifest balls of light from his body. Unlike a lot of people, Kwon really hates having a superpower, so he's come to a really shady-looking doctor to have it removed. If that sounds like bunk to you, congratulations! You've read a story before. The doctor straps him down and a bunch of sharp instruments begin digging into Kwon's back. He dies as the powers are drained out of him, and fed into an emaciated man who's cackling to himself how he'll soon use all these powers to "lead them out of darkness". Anyway, all of this is foreshadowing and has nothing to do with the rest of the issue~

We join our heroes in a limo together, recovering from the events of "Death of the Family". They're pretty forgiving of Tim Drake for everything that happened, but Tim himself is pretty bummed that he let it happen at all, since he's supposed to be the leader. Cassie is pretty disgusted by the touchy-feely display, but luckily for her, Kid Flash interrupts at this point. He's running alongside the limo, and he's noticed that the limo isn't going to their usual penthouse tower. In fact, it's pulled up at the docks along the Hudson River. Tim mentions that he's gotten them a new place to live, and if you think this is leading up to a reveal of a new Titans Tower for this continuity, well...

...Sorry to disappoint you, but what Tim reveals is a big cruise ship. Yes, really. This is their new headquarters, and while most of them are speechless, Bunker is pretty thrilled. Since it's a cruise ship, it has individual quarters, a pool, a rec room, and so on. It even has a war room that attaches to Tim's own quarters. I really don't understand how a boat is more secure than a tower, but I'm not a former sidekick of Batman's, I guess. The group then breaks to go to sleep, since they're kind of exhausted after all the ordeals of never following a story for a single issue or series.

Kid Flash and Bunker, who have opted to bunk together for security, retire to their room. Kid Flash is, of course, the twitchy sort who can't settle down, especially in a new place. He confesses to Bunker that he doesn't remember any of his life pre-Titans, and Bunker tells him not to worry about it. He gives Kid Flash some actually good advice about how you have to live in the moment, since you can't change the past and the future will come regardless. He mentions that he misses his mom and boyfriend back in Mexico, but he's glad to be here, now, doing what he's doing. This is dramatically undercut by the next scene, showing his mom visiting his boyfriend in the hospital, where he is unconscious and glowing.

Tim Drake, however, did not go to bed. He's a Batman sidekick, being up all night is in his blood. So is monologuing, but it's quickly revealed he's actually talking outloud because he knows Solstice is there watching him. She's come back to apologise again for that bit during The Culling, where Tim was building a case against NOWHERE and didn't help a bunch of kids until he had evidence they needed help. And despite this issue coming out five years before the film, I swear, he does the Spiderverse "Hey" move, and swoops in to kiss Solstice. She protests "what about Kid Flash?", and Tim's all "I don't see him around, do you?" And so they keep making out. Oh good, instead of manufactured "pissy at each other" tension, we get love triangle tension instead.

We get a brief scene of a white-haired kid at a coffee shop getting pissy at how long the customer ahead of him is taking with their extremely specific order, which, like, don't go to a coffee shop, then. He gets pissed enough that suddenly his brain flares in a negative filter and kills all the people in the shop. A policeman comes rushing in to see what the commotion is, and they find nothing but bodies. The mysterious brain guy has already left, drinking the complicated order that the customer in front of him was ordering, deciding it was worth all the detail after all. Wah-wah.

And if you think the teen drama bullshit is going to stop there, Tim retires back to his room after making out with Solstice, only for Cassie to come looking in for him. She's wearing one of his shirts as sleepwear. He allows it, mentioning that he's loosened up since the ordeal of being in "Death of the Family". Cassie mentions that she came in here to "thank" him for helping to deal with Diesel, and the two of them start making out as well. Contrary to what you might expect, just coz I like reading comics about teen superheroes doesn't mean I like teen drama and romance plots~

And it might be a bit more than makeouts, since while it showed Solstice and Tim in full during their kiss, it cuts to silhouette and a shot from the doorway as Cassie and Tim kiss on the bed. Implied intercourse ahoy! And if you think that's creepy, it cuts over to Raven sitting on a throne, swirling a goblet of probably blood, while she uses magic to listen in on Cassie and Tim doing it. Um, ew.

Some old granny ghoul calls her over, saying her father Trigon wants to meet by the blood river, and Raven departs. The last page of the comic closes the story with Tim by himself in the war room, listening to the police reports of the coffee shop massacre, while his eyes glow red, implying he's probably under Raven's control or something.

Ugh, is it too late to go back to the edgelord crossover dreck~?

Seriously, this issue is bad. For one thing, it’s trying to set up, like, five different future plotlines all at once, and thus doesn’t have a consistant tone. And for two... Well, do I really need to say it? The main plot of the story is skeevy as all hell, and really makes Tim come off as a creepo. A lot of bad comics I review on here just make me angry, but this one makes me feel unclean. The sooner this storyline is over, the better. Ugh...

#comics #reviews #Teen Titans #Taiblog

3 notes · View notes

thecrystalquill · 5 years

Text

The Pretty French Girl

Albus Potter x Beauxbatons!Reader

Request:

A/N: Hey hey!! Thanks to @foolish-dragon for requesting this! I know this is waayy overdue and I'm so sorry it's taken me so long! I was so busy with college but thankfully now it's the holidays I have some free time. So thank you so much for your patience. I hope it was worth the wait :) Also, because of the stupid 100 block rule, I've had to do this is a couple of parts, so click the link for the next part when you’re done👍🏻

Masterlist

Part 2

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

"Albus, I told you to tidy your room! We've got guests coming." Harry called, honestly how is his room this messy?

Footsteps were heard coming up the stairs and Harry turned to see Albus stomping his way up. "Dad, stay out of my room - and it's not messy, it's set up so I know exactly we're everything is. If I tidied it up, how would I ever find anything?" He huffed, and besides, why did he need his room to be tidied for guests? Why should they care how his room looks?

"Just clean it up, will you?" Harry replied, shoving a basket into his son's arms for the mounds of dirty clothes. "And I need you to clear up the spare room too. Get all your things out and put the bedding on, your Mum and I already have enough to do."

"Wait, who's staying in the spare room?" Albus asked, Harry was already halfway down the stairs when he threw his hands up, exasperated.

"I told you last week - Fleur's daughter is staying for the rest of the summer."

"What? Why?"

"She's transferring, stop stalling and tidy your room."

"Fine."

After cleaning his room and getting the spare room ready, Albus went about the rest of the day wondering about their new guest and slowly building up his nerves.

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

The next day, Albus came down the stairs having just thrown on sweats and a jumper. It was almost noon and he'd clearly just woken up; he still had a bed-head and was stumbling down the stairs only half-awake. Only when he was about to enter their dining room did he hear new voices.

As he walked in, he found that the seats at the table were almost full, the usually empty seats take up by new faces; and sat in his spot was a girl who looked to be about his age. She had beautiful (y/h/l) (y/h/c) hair and amazing (y/e/c) eyes, she was smiling as she made conversation with his family and she looked absolutely stunning - he hated her already.

"There you are, Albus," his Mum beckoned him over, "I hope you slept well dear." She said as he grumpily sat down in the chair next to the girl.

"Well I should think so," his Dad commented, "it's half-passed eleven!"

James Sirius slung an arm around his younger brother and smirked, "Aw go easy on him Dad, I'm just glad we had some peace down here. Maybe next time we should bolt the door closed." He jones as Albus threw his arms off and grabbed the left-over breakfast on the table and dumped it on his plate.

"Y'know what James, maybe I will." Harry replied, earning a slap up the head from his wife.

Fleur entered from the kitchen holding two glasses of fruit juice, "Good morning, Albus," she greeted as she placed a glass down in front of the girl, "I 'ave not seen you een so long, 'ow you 'ave grown!"

He smiled at her in return, not entirely sure how he's supposed to respond to that ('Thank you'? 'You too'?), he just nodded and shovelled some jams toast into his mouth.

"I do not zink you 'ave met my daughter," she continued, gesturing to the girl next to him. "Mon chéri, vhy don't you eentroduce yourself?"

The girl turned to face him fully and smiled politely. "Hello, Albus," she said, and he could instantly tell that her accent was much more practiced than her mother's, "nice to finally meet you."

Albus nodded, seeing the glare from his parents in the corner of his eye, he faked a smile back. "Yeah, nice to meet you too..."

"(Y/N)."

"(Y/N)," he cleared his throat, glancing back to his parents. "So... er, how long are you staying?" He asked as he finished his breakfast and took a sip of orange juice.

"Just until you go back to Hogwarts," Ginny answered, sending him a stern look when he was about to protest - successfully shutting him up. "She and Fleur are moving to England and there's no room at your Grandparents' right now, so we offered for her to stay here for the rest of the holidays. Hopefully, Fleur will find somewhere soon."

"Oui, zank you for letting 'ur stay, vee really appreciate eet." Fleur thanked, her daughter nodding in agreement.

Harry waved a hand, "Oh, it's no problem Fleur, really. You're welcome here anytime."

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

The night after Fleur left, Albus was sat it their living room watching reruns of Friends on TV, when (Y/N)

Decided to join him on the sofa. "Hello Albus," she greeted calmly as she crossed her legs and placed her hands neatly on her lap.

He grunted in reply - Merlin, he couldn't believe he had to spend the next two weeks with her, a whole third of his summer holiday!

"What are you watching?" She asked, curiously staring at the screen.

"Friends." He replied shortly, "it's a TV show, from the 90's."

"Oh," she said, "I don't think I have heard of it."

They sat in silence for a while as they enjoyed the show, an occasional question from (Y/N) when she didn't understand a muggle-related thing.

Soon, they were watching one of Albus' favourite episodes; Monica came into Chandler's apartment with a turkey on her head - you know the one. As Joey came in and was almost frightened to death, (Y/N) started to giggle, which Albus decowas very annoying. 'Is she actually giggling?' He thought, 'Why can't she just laugh like a normal person instead of cute little giggles?'

As he rolled his eyes, James decided to intrude. "Sup little bro," he teased as he plonked himself between the two, "Whatcha watchin'?" Albus nodded his head in the direction of the Tv as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world - which it probably should be. "Oooh, Friends eh? Good choice - great show. Rachel's hot."

"Really James?" Albus commented, "That's why you watch it? Y'can't just completely ignore the beauty of the show! Six friends from different backgrounds sharing their lives and experiences and supporti--"

"I think you might like this show a bit too much, Al." James interrupted with a smirk; Albus only brought his hand to his chest and gasped in an overly-dramatic manner, an offended look on his face. Standing to leave, James grinned as he called back, "Get a life, little bro!" Albus hated when he called him that.

A few episodes later, (Y/N) had decided that it was a good time to ask questions. "So Albus, what is t like at Hogwarts?"

Shrugging, he only gave a short answer, "S'alright."

(Y/N) nodded - still feeling unsatisfied, she decided to ask another. "And you get sorted into houses, yes?"

"Oui," he replied in a slightly condescending tone.

Ignoring it, (Y/N) tried again, "And what house are you in?"

"Slytherin."

"And what qualities does Slytherin have?"

Albus shrugged, "Y'know, ambition and stuff." He mumbled, sneakily turning up the volume on the TV.

Seeing as she was getting nowhere, (Y/N) nodded and decided she'd rather ask James about her new school.

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

As the days passed, Albus had decided that he definitely didn't like (Y/N) at all - one-hundred percent dislike. Nothing else. She was so annoying, with her questions and her studying and her stupid French novels; he hated how she sat with her ankles crossed, and stood straight when she walked like she was better than anyone else. He hated how she smiled at everyone she saw every morning, he hated that she was so tidy and polite, he hated her elegance and her grace and the way she spoke - but most of all, he hated how bloody perfect she was. And he found it infuriating.

Shuffling into their dining room with his hair a mess and twisted pyjamas, the boy was met with the sight of (Y/N) sat at the table, with a charms book in one hand and a slice of toast in the other. As she turned to the next page, (Y/N) looked up and met his eyes. "Good morning, Albus." She smiled cheerily, irritating him further; how can someone be so awake at nine in the morning?

"Mornin'," he replied tiredly, sitting across from her just as Lily came through and happily helped herself to the food laid out. Albus had just finished spreading marmalade on his toast when James came from behind, grabbing it from Albus' hand just and inch from his mouth l, and took a bite; messing his little brother's already un-brushed hair before swaggering to his seat with a grin.

Albus grumpily grabbed another piece of toast, glaring intensely at James, as his father grossed in - his hair sticking up in every direction and glasses lazily put on. "Mornin'," he yawned and rubbed his eyes, (Y/N) smirking at how alike he and Albus were.

Ginny entered from the kitchen, holding two mugs of tea as she made her way to her husband. Handing him a cup, Harry took a sip and wrapped an arm around her. "Is everyone ready for Hogwarts then?" Ginny asked, tired murmurs, nods, and shrugs in response. She drank some of her tea and eyed her sons. "All packed then? Got everything, have you? Clothes, robes, equipment...?" There was a pause where the boys' eyes widened almost comically. "Maybe you should check - you won't be having any time tomorrow, will you?"

The brothers made eye-contact, then seemingly came up with the same conclusion, before running upstairs at impressive speeds - beginning to pack for school.

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

"Right, have you all got everything? Robes? Wands? Books? James, please tell me you packed your toothbrush this time..." Albus' mind drifted as his Mum continued - they still had fifteen minutes until the train set off, but he didn't see the point in her asking now; they weee already at the station.

Feeling a tap on his shoulder, Albus swivelled around to see his father slightly lean down to him. "Look, Albus," he began seriously, "I know you don't particularly like (Y/N), but would you just look out for her a bit? Be her friend, help her out; it's not easy going to a new school, in a new country, where she doesn't know anyone. Just... be nice, okay?"

He looked over to the girl, she was staring at the crowds of people around them, her arms folded around herself nervously as a few students kept glancing her way. Sighing, Albus nodded to his Dad. "Yeah, okay. I'll keep an eye out for her."

Harry pulled his son into a hug as Ginny hit their attention. "Come on the , the train leaves any minute now! Off you go, and for Merlin's sake be good!"

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

The group made their way on the train and split up to find their friends; but, remembering his father's words, Albus turned back to (Y/N). He awkwardly cleared his threat and beckoned her along with his head, "You coming?"

She smiled gratefully and nodded before trailing behind him to the first empty compartment they could find. They say across from each other, sitting rather awkwardly as the train set off. The silence prolonged as the Potter thought of something to say. 'What the hell am I supposed to say to her?' Albus thought to himself, 'Its not like we have anything in common.'

Just as he was about to say something, he was interrupted by the compartment door bursting open to reveal a head of platinum blond hair. "Hey Albus," he greeted as he sat next to the brunet boy, "and who might this be?" He asked about the girl.

"(Y/N) Delacour." She revealed, accepting the hand he offered.

"Scorpius Malfoy, pleasure to meet you (Y/N)." He smiled as he shook her hand.

Albus cleared his throat suddenly, drawing both pairs of eyes to him. "(Y/N) was staying with us over the summer. She's coming from Beauxbatons."

"Beauxbatons, eh?" Scorpius repeated in a somewhat impressed time. "I heard it's nice there."

"It is." The girl confirmed with a nod if their head. "My mother tells me of her visits to Hogwarts in her school years, she says it is very unique."

"Who's your mother?" Scorpius asked, a little confused at why she'd have visited Hogwarts in her school years.

"Fleur Delacour," (Y/N) responded with subtle pride, "she was a Triwizard Champion when Hogwarts was the host."

Scorpius' mouth formed an 'O' shape as he realised who she was talking about. "Oh yeah. She's part veela, isn't she?"

The girl nodded shyly and he smirked. "Well, that would explain why you're so beautiful." He responded smoothly, prompting (Y/N) to giggle at his compliment.

Albus frowned at his friend's behaviour; but perhaps the veela gene just makes people react differently to her.

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

As the older students were waiting for the firsts years to arrive, (Y/N) was brought into another room in the hall for a private sorting with Headmistress McGonnagal. Albus and Scorpius were waiting at the Slytherin table, betting on which house (Y/N) would be sorted into - which seemed to be taking a while.

She finally exited the room and made her way to the tables, however, she started to get further from the Slytherin table and neared the Gryffindors. Both boys sighed in disappointment as James Sirius stood up to greet her and moved aside so she could sit with him as Lily waved cheerily.

"Well... at least we'll have some classes with her, right?" Scorpius said, trying to hide his disappointment; it would have been nice to have a girl in their little group.

"What? I-I don't know, why should I care anyway?" Albus responded defensively.

Scorpius frowned at his friend, as if he knew something that the other boy didn't. "Well, you like her, don't you?" He asked (it would explain his behaviour towards Scorpius' mild flirting on the train, after all), Albus' almost horrified face only confirmed his suspicions.

"No I don't!" He barked.

The young Malfoy only smirked. "Yeah you do," he answered casually, as if it were so obvious.

"No! I don't!" But the more angry he got, the more Scorpius knew he was right.

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

Part 2

Tags:

@foolish-dragon

@strawberries-should-be-sweeter

24 notes · View notes

beautifulspacegays · 5 years

Text

Cinnamon Bagels and Peppermint Tea Part 3

The third part of the Cinnamon Bagels and Peppermint Tea Series, in which Lance owns a cute marketplace bakery, and Shiro tries his damn best to make sure his delinquent brother knows about it. Alternative Title: Shiro is the ultimate wingman and Keith has a gay crisis.

For anyone who remembers this piece, I’ve decided to continue this AU (click here for part 2)! Read the full piece below the bar, or @/sleapea on ao3 or instagram 💕

Shiro was standing in the kitchen, coffee in hand, when Keith stormed into their living room. The room was dim, aglow with the light from the setting sun and nothing else.

Even in the fading light, the first thing Shiro noticed was that Keith looked… more put together than usual, to say the least. Shiro immediately dismissed the storming… that was the usual for Keith. But wearing his hair in a neat braid down the side of his neck, rather than his usual, messy bun? Now that was new. So was wearing a nice pair of black jeans and a grey, fitted crew neck instead of a hoodie and sweatpants. And, by the astonishing lack of wrinkles, Shiro could tell that they were from his closet, not his bedroom floor. The last time he saw Keith this neat, it had been at their mother’s second wedding. Two years ago.

He watched intently, knowing full well that Keith was pointedly ignoring him. He remained quiet as Keith shrugged on his leather jacket by the front door, and as he laced up his boots. It was only when Keith turned to face the door and wrapped his hand around the doorknob that Shiro asked: “Where are you going?”

Keith flinched, hand pausing around the knob. He slowly looked over his shoulder, expression guarded. Shiro grinned.

“To the bakery,” he grumbled.

Shiro shifted so that he could prop his hip against the kitchen counter. When he was comfortable, he took a long, slow sip of coffee. Under his unwavering gaze, Keith began to squirm, a small flush creeping up his cheeks. If Shiro didn’t know any better, he’d almost say that his baby brother looked sheepish.

“Do you… want anything?”

“Oh, no, no. I’m good,” Shiro answered casually. He waved him off, took another slow sip of his coffee. Keith prickled.

“What do you want?” he snapped. As usual, Keith didn’t try to hide how annoyed he was. Although, Shiro didn’t think Keith could hide how he felt, even if he did want to.

Either way, as usual, Shiro ignored it.

“Hmm? Nothing,” he shrugged, expression neutral.

“Shiro,” Keith deadpanned, finally taking his hand from the knob and turning to fully face his brother. “I’ve known you my entire life,” he paused, taking the time to breathe in heavy, collect himself. Then, he crossed his arms and raised a frustrated brow, exhaling as he levelled him with a stare. “I know when you’re full of shit.”

“Easy there, cowboy,” Shiro chuckled. He raised his mug to his lips again, but paused before taking a sip, as if deep in thought. “How many times have you gone to the bakery this week, Keith?” Keith’s eyes widened, like the question caught him off guard.

“...why?” he asked slowly.

“Humour me.”

Keith narrowed his eyes at him, holding his gaze. Shiro met his eyes easily, amused smile on his face all the while. It never took long for Keith to crack— usually, his impatience or his curiosity had him caving right… about...

Keith broke their eyes with a loud huff, an exaggerated eye roll. “Fine, you win,” he mumbled, cheeks flushed and frustrated. Shiro tried to stifle his laugh behind his mug, but if the glare Keith shot him was anything to go by, he didn’t do a very good job.

“I went on Monday… after finishing a commission,” he began tentatively, gaze shifting in concentration. “Tuesday when you worked late, because I didn’t feel like making dinner. Then… again on Wednesday becau—”

“Keith,” Shiro cut him off with an amused chuckle. "How many times?”

Keith let out a frustrated sigh and shot him a look, but Shiro merely laughed. Frowning, Keith began to count on his fingertips. “1, 2, 3…” he mumbled under his breath “...6?”

“What day is it today?” Shiro prodded. Keith paused.

“...Thursday?”

Shiro nodded, but kept quiet. Patiently, he waited until...

Keith’s eyes widened as the lightbulb flicked on.

“That’s way too many times, isn’t it…” Keith began, entirely to himself. He instantly took to pacing back and forth, back and forth, like he was trying to run a small line into the floor. “Holy shit. What does he think of me? Is that weird?” He stared down at the ground in horror for a moment before bursting aloud. “Who eats that many bagels, of course it’s weird!”

Shiro simply watched, content to let Keith talk this one out himself.

“I definitely shouldn’t go. You’re right, yeah, no way,” Keith continued, decidedly. He was silent for all of 5 seconds before he slumped, the reality of what he’d just resolved sinking in. “But… I want to see him,” he whispered, face fallen. He looked just like a kicked puppy.

“And the truth comes out,” Shiro laughed. His little brother was so smitten— it was sweet, if Shiro was being honest.

“What did you do??” Keith whirled on him then, eyes wide and questioning.

“Pardon me?” Shiro asked, stunned.

“What did you do with Allura?”

Shiro blushed, caught off guard for the first time that evening. “Oh, uh… that was a long time ago.” He tried to laugh light-heartedly, but it sounded more like a strangled cough than anything else. “Mmm… yeah. I’m pretty old. Can’t seem to remember.” Without missing a beat, he glanced down at the underside of his wrist. “Wow, look at the time. Better head to bed…”

He wasn’t wearing a watch.

“Shiro! Come on,” Keith whined, features morphing into his signature “Shiro caves every time I make this face” expression. And, he was right. Shiro did cave every time he made that expression.

Shiro groaned.

“You already know the story!” He appealed, a little indignant.

“Humour me.” Keith shot back, and Shiro flinched. Oh, how he hated it when his own tricks were used against him.

“I miss when you used to be cute, you know? Like when you were really small. And couldn’t talk,” he sighed, defeated.

“Shiro…”

“FINE. Fine,” he relented. “But only because I’m an adult who is mature now.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “Psh, yeah. Okay.”

Shiro narrowed his eyes at Keith, but all his little brother did was shrug. Shiro huffed, took to pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. He tried his best to act annoyed, but he couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto his face.

When he was a senior in highschool, Shiro had been captain of the boy’s soccer team. Allura had been captain of the girl’s team. They’d hardly known each other until Shiro caught word that one of his freshmen had been heckling the girl’s team after practice.

To this day, Shiro isn’t quite sure how it happened. Somehow, the girl’s team ended up challenging the boys to a friendly match, an opportunity to put their money where their mouths were. And, Shiro could hardly refuse, given it had been his rookie who prompted the match in the first place.

The girl’s team ended up winning 3 - 2. Shiro will never forget the way Allura handled the ball, knocking him right off his feet, literally and figuratively, to score the winning goal. To this day, her graceful footwork was something he still marvelled every time he watched her play.

“I… well, you know how the match went,” Shiro said, and Keith snorted. Shiro elbowed him in the side before continuing, as though Keith hadn't interrupted. “Pretty hard to… look cool after someone knocks you down like that.”

Keith scowled as he rubbed at his side, but his eyes remained attentive.

“I went up to her after the match and asked her to prom.”

“Right there?”

Shiro smiled at the fond memory. “Right there,” he nodded.

“Right after she kicked your ass?”

“She didn't kick my ass—”

“She still said yes?”

“Well, first she laughed so hard she choked on her gatorade…”

“I can’t believe this worked out for you,” Keith mumbled.

“Me neither,” Shiro laughed, “but… she liked that, I guess. Said most guys would have been walking away with their tails between their legs by now. Which, they were. The rest of the team.” Shiro laughed to himself, expression gone completely soft. Keith made a face that he pretended not to notice.

“That didn’t help me at all,” he frowned, glaring at his brother as if his current predicament was entirely his fault. Which… in a way, it was.

“You wanted to know!” Shiro instantly sputtered, indignant.

“I thought you’d be more useful!” Keith snapped back, and Shiro felt downright scandalized. He gaped in the silence that fell over them both as Keith took to pouting, arms crossed and brows comically furrowed.

“Hmm, well, if I'm not useful, I guess I’ll just keep this next part to myself,” he spoke slowly as the thought hit him, grinning at Keith as his little brother perked his head up.

“What next part…?” He asked, tentative. It was hopeful, despite the lingering pout he wore.

“The part where I met Lance’s sister this week,” Shiro admitted, grin turning from playful to downright devilish as Keith’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.

“WHAT— and you didn’t tell me?”

“Because I knew you’d…” he waved a hand, gesturing to Keith and his current state. His face was flushed a deep red, the heat dispersed in messy patches across his neck and cheeks. His eyes were still comically wide, and his body was wound taut like a spring. “Freak out.”

“I’m not freaking out!” Keith blurted, tone loud and splintering at the edges.

“Obviously.”

“Shiro,” Keith whined. He didn't say anything more aloud, but his eyes were practically screaming "help me." And, oh, he was making the face again.

“She’s worried about him,” he looked down at his mug as he spoke, raised it to his lips. Immediately, he made a face— to his dismay, his coffee had gone cold. He set his mug down on the counter with a frown. So much for enjoying a nice, relaxing cup of coffee after dinner.

“Worried, why?” Keith drew him back to the present with his quick response. His posture had completely deflated, all anger having dissipated into genuine concern.

“She says he works too hard. Hardly ever leaves the bakery,” he continued, and Keith’s frown deepened.

“Oh...” he whispered.

“Yeah. She wishes he’d…” Shiro paused, contemplating for a moment. “Take more time for himself.” Keith looked utterly defeated, expression alight with worry. Shiro, on the other hand...

“Why… are you smiling?” Keith accused. He asked the question like he didn’t want to hear the answer. Of course, Shiro provided it anyway.

“I told her we could help,” he said simply.

“We can?” Keith blinked, incredulous.

“Well, I told her you could help,” Shiro reached out a finger and lightly poked Keith in the centre of his chest.

“Me?” Keith choked, staring down at Shiro’s hand in disbelief. “How am I supposed to—”

“Take him out this Saturday,” Shiro cut him off quickly, knowing his brother’s propensity to panic spiral. Keith looked like a boiling kettle, flushed and steaming and ready to—

“WHAT!” he burst. Shiro shrugged, doing his best to feign nonchalance.

“The bakery will be closed. She said Lance should have a free day,” Shiro explained, doing his best to stay casual for the sake of his brother’s quickly fading sanity. “You can help him clear his mind.”

“Why would Lance want to go anywhere with me?” Keith mumbled under his breath. Shiro sighed.

“Do you want to help him?” Keith looked up at him in surprise. His expression was earnest and genuine, making him look like a little kid again.

“Of course I do, but—”

“No buts. Do you want to help him, or not?” At that, Keith’s brows creased, and he flushed a little deeper.

“Yeah…” he averted his eyes, speaking to the fridge instead of Shiro. It didn’t matter, Shiro had what he needed.

“Then trust me.”

25 notes · View notes

distractedhistotech · 5 years

Text

Ghost +1

Sydney was in the back of the van. She preferred it back there since she could move around more. Plus it felt weird staring out the window since losing her eye. She guessed it was the loss of depth perception. She was still learning how to gauge distance.

“So, that was kind of lame. Why did they think that guy was a ghost anyway?” asked Sydney as she tried to contact juggle some balls they had and dropped them all over the place. “He didn’t even put a lot of effort into his costume.”

“They were really superstitious,” said Arthur. “Only a few steps from being a cult when you think about it. They decide that anything strange has to have a supernatural or spiritual cause. Don’t even think there’s a scientific explanation because why couldn’t it be something that proves they’re right.”

“Arthur, you’re starting to ramble,” interrupted Vivi.

Arthur blushed. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. They were a bit…extreme,” admitted Vivi. “I can see why it would upset you.”

Mystery decided this was a good reason to lay his head on Arthur’s lap. Sydney then flung her arms around him. “Yeah! I thought they were creepy too!”

“Sydney! I’m driving!”

“Pretty sure they thought I was an idiot,” continued Sydney. “I mean that tone they used with me was just insulting! Just because I’m missing an eye doesn’t mean I’m an idiot! Lots of people are missing parts and are smart! I’m not a pirate!” Sydney paused. “Actually, there were some pretty intelligent pirates. I don’t know where I was going with that. I seem to come back to pirates a lot lately. I know why I do, but it’s getting kind of old. I need to find something else to obsess with when I get riled up.”

“You could go back to talking about comics,” suggested Vivi.

Sydney sighed. “Yeah, I miss that…Why do I have so much trouble bringing comics up nowadays? It used to be second nature, but now I have to focus to talk about them. Even though I still love comics. It doesn’t make sense. Is this part of growing up? Part of recovering from a traumatic event? Both? It feels like something’s wrong. But isn’t that normal now?” Sydney rested her forehead on the back of Arthur’s head, not noticing how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. “Do you ever feel like that?”

“Yes,” said Arthur. He’d felt like it since he woke up in a hospital missing an arm, missing a friend, missing memories, missing so much… “I don’t think it’s gonna go away.” Mystery let out a whine and licked one of Sydney’s hands.

Vivi looked between the two as the mood quickly started to darken. God, she just wanted her two friends to be happy like they used to be. She needed to find a way to change the subject and make them smile. “Why don’t we pick up a couple of pizzas or something and then watch a couple of hours of Star Trek or Star Wars or Captain America?”

Arthur caught on to what she was trying to do and smiled. “That would be nice. It’s been a while since we hung out.” He frowned. “That’s my fault.” He’d been busy looking for Lewis. He was trying not to ignore his remaining friends, but it was hard when he wanted to find the other one and mentioning him did…something to them.

“What the heck are you working on anyway?” asked Sydney. “You’re not usually this secretive. You’re not trying to make a mechanical eye again, are you?”

“No!...Not usually anyway,” admitted Arthur.

“I can see where he’s coming from,” said Vivi. “I don’t think we can buy another eye if something else goes wrong. We need an alternative method.”

Sydney shuddered. “Okay, point taken. Being blind sucked. I don’t know how someone can live with that for a lifetime. Especially if you’re born like that! Can you imagine never knowing colors? And I bet light doesn’t make a lot of sense either. And you can’t play videogames!”

“Can’t work on cars or fabricate parts,” continued Arthur.

“Probably can’t paint either,” mused Vivi. “Unless the various colors smelled different from one another.”

Sydney wrinkled her nose. “Is-Is that a thing? And I don’t mean synesthesia! Can blind people have synesthesia? Or deaf people? Or anyone missing one sense?”

“What if sounds are linked to smell instead?” suggested Arthur.

“Can that happen?”

“Dunno. Maybe.”

“Pigments are just a type of chemical compound, so it would make sense for them to have a scent,” said Vivi, keeping the conversation from veering off in a completely different direction for once.

“Depends on the chemical. Some don’t have a scent, or at least the scent is too faint for humans to pick up on,” explained Arthur.

“I dunno, I swear I was smelling more right before you fixed my eye,” argued Sydney.

“It’s not quite the same thing. When you lose a sense you pay more attention to the ones that are left, like reassigning roles. We get the most information from sight, so when someone loses their sense of sight they pay a lot more attention to little things that they didn’t even realize they were ignoring. Also, I think there’s some neuroplasticity involved. Your brain isn’t using the part that used to be for putting together what your eyes saw, so it starts using it for other things over time.” Arthur was silent for a moment. “Um. But you, uh, would know better than me, given, you know. Sorry, I got a little too into the science papers I’ve been reading.”

Sydney smiled and shrugged. “It’s fine. I think it’s pretty interesting, even if I don’t understand all of it.” She tapped her eyepatch. “Does losing an eye affect how much of my brain it uses?”

“Just one? I’m not sure. You are seeing less…”

“Can you still smell and hear more than you’re used to?” asked Vivi.

Sydney shrugged. “Dunno. I don’t think so. Was kind of distracted at the time. Plus, everything looked different when I could see again.”

Vivi huffed. “It is just so unfair. How is it that my abilities still haven’t manifested but my half of the eye lets you see spirits?”

“It is really strange,” agreed Sydney.

“Maybe it’s because your abilities are already active,” suggested Arthur. “And you do have some control over ‘em.”

Vivi hummed in thought. “That might be it. There are still so many unknowns…”

“Hey, I don’t care how as long as no one else has to go blind,” said Sydney. “Besides, I’m sure something will wake you up eventually.”

“Yeah, but what if I’m like 40 when it finally happens?” complained Vivi. “Heck, if I have kids by then, they might have gotten their power before me…”

Arthur winced. “Do you want kids?”

Vivi nodded. “Of course! One, maybe two. I just have to find the right guy,” she said, giving Arthur a significant glance.

Arthur missed said glance entirely as he was distracted by thoughts of what could have been. Sydney was blind on that side. The only one to notice was Mystery, who huffed. Why did life have to be so difficult for these kids? The last time he’d had charges this prone to trouble…

It hadn’t ended well. Mystery would rather not dwell on the depressing memories.

Vivi realized her hint had gone over their heads yet again and decided to just move on. “Do you guys want kids?”

“I want one! So there can be a Sydney Scoville III!” proclaimed Sydney. “But just one. Don’t think I could handle more than that.”

Arthur was silent. Lewis wanted kids. He’d be an amazing father with how well he handled his sisters. “I dunno if I want children. I don’t want to pass on any of my issues.”

Vivi and Sydney both frowned at Arthur’s reasoning. “Most of your issues are due to your early upbringing,” pointed out Vivi. “You wouldn’t make those same choices and mistakes. That would prevent most of those issues from happening.”

“They could still pick up the behavior from me,” argued Arthur. “There’s only so much that I can change.”

“I don’t think you need to change,” said Sydney. “I mean, yeah, you’ve got anxiety issues, but lots of people do. You’re also smart and nice and help people and have cool hair and stro-”

“What if I attract something dangerous?” interrupted Arthur.

“Then I’ll just keep living nearby,” reasoned Sydney. She’d live with him if he asked. “I mean, I don’t see why I would leave Tempo.”

“Me either. Tempo is our home,” agreed Vivi. She placed a hand on Arthur’s flesh and blood hand. “We’re stuck with each other. For life.”

Arthur felt himself cheer up a bit at that. He gave Vivi a smile and tried to give Sydney one as best he could. Maybe he was being selfish, but he wanted to stay close to his friends.

And then the dashboard started to spark. Arthur’s eyes widened. “What?! No, no, no…” He stomped on the gas several times but failed to pick up speed.

Vivi frowned. “Is something wrong with the van?”

“There shouldn’t be! I just performed maintenance on it!”

Sydney raised an eyebrow. “Am I the only one who thinks the purple sparks were weird?”

Arthur blinked. “Purple?”

Sydney nodded. “Yeah, I was staring right at the dashboard.” The high beam light looked like a jellyfish. “Definitely purple.”

“That is not a thing that should happen!” shouted Arthur.

Vivi nodded. “Electricity’s supposed to just be white, which suggests this isn’t normal.” The van came to a stop right in front of…Vivi blinked several times. “A dancing mansion?”

Okay, it wasn’t actually dancing. However, it was sort of pulsing/bopping to a beat that one could fell in their bones. It was noticeably run down and purple and had eerie lights in the windows.

“There’s no way that’s not haunted,” deadpanned Sydney.

“Erm…” Arthur tried turning over the car again. “We don’t, have to investigate, do we?”

Vivi thought of what happened last time they’d jumped into an investigation without any preparation.

Blood. Hospitals. Loss. Guilt.

“If you can get the van started, we’re leaving,” said Vivi. “Sydney, you’re not wearing your suppressor?”

Sydney shook her head. “Still practicing controlling it on my own.”

“Good. Don’t reign it in.”

Mystery just stared at the mansion. He recognized its aura. He could barely believe it.

When did Lewis come back and what did he have planned?

Lewis was planning to exact his revenge. The plan had been simple: Create a mansion on a road that they often traveled along near Tempo (He couldn’t get into Tempo, but that could be because of some of the wards Vivi had tried setting up.), lure the Mystery Skulls (especially Arthur) into the mansion, separate them, bring Arthur to his location, kill Arthur, and reunite with the girls and Mystery, with possible minor changes as were needed. He was also open to making Arthur confess what happened to the girls (They must not have seen what happened to just go along with him.) before killing him.

The plan started to unravel as soon as the van came to a stop in front of his mansion. Part of that was because instead of rushing into the mansion on the heels of Vivi like he was expecting, they stayed in the van. And stayed. A lot longer than he recalled them ever doing so when he was alive.

Part of it was indirectly Sydney’s fault. He’d known that her aura was potent against malevolent spirits and the like, but he hadn’t really appreciated it until he felt it pressing down on him. From all the way outside. He found himself rubbing his temples. Ow. No wonder the nastier spirits went out of their way to avoid her. He was actually leaking some energy. He could last for some time as long as he was careful, but theoretically, they could just stay in the van until he was too drained to keep them here. If they tried that, he’d have to go out and confront them. Not something he wanted to do, but if it became necessary…

Lewis wondered why he was being affected in the first place. He wasn’t evil…Well, okay, he did want to kill Arthur. That was justified, but maybe it was gray enough for Sydney’s ability to categorize him as malevolent. If that was the case, then it would probably stop after he killed Arthur and no longer had any desire to hurt someone.

Lewis was dragged from his musings as several figures started exiting the van. Finally! Lewis quickly started setting up the finishing touches of his plan.

It was time to end this.

Arthur had to admit defeat. “I’ll need to look under the hood, and I don’t want to do that in front of a haunted mansion.” He sighed. “I don’t wanna go inside either.”

Sydney had been staring at the mansion the whole time. She could see the music. And anger. This eye was so weird. “I think you’d be okay. Pretty sure my aura will reach that far.”

Mystery could confirm that her aura did extend that far and would retain enough potency to be effective. Not that he could tell them, but it was certainly a weight off his shoulders.

Vivi started handing out various items for protection and fighting. “It’s a tough choice. Stay out here alone but relatively safe or go inside with us to stay close to Sydney and me.”

Arthur groaned. If he was less worried about the girls’ safety he would stay outside, but he couldn’t help but worry that if he let them go inside that he would never see them again. It had happened before. Even if he couldn’t do anything to protect them, he could draw fire away from them.

“I think I’ll go with you guys,” Arthur decided.

Sydney and Vivi studied him for a moment before Sydney suddenly bit her thumb and smeared some blood in the center of his forehead. “Just in case.”

Arthur instinctively looked up with crossed eyes for a moment. “Uh. Okay. I guess that’ll work.”

“It should. There is power in blood,” said Vivi as she gave him some holy water and slipped a beaded necklace over his head and under his shirt. “We can try practicing making protective symbols with it too.”

Sydney chuckled. “Like an anime.” She nodded. “Anything that you think will help.”

Arthur fought down the urge to wipe at the blood on his forehead. “Can I just say that I don’t like having other people’s blood on me?” It brought back bad memories.

Sydney winced. “Oh. Sorry. Should’ve asked first, shouldn’t I?”

Arthur took a deep breath. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine. You said it might help so it’s something to try.” The blood itched on his forehead. “But I am totally scrubbing it off when we get out of here.”

Vivi nodded. “Sounds like a decent enough compromise.” She handed an ofuda to Sydney. Sydney smeared some more blood on the back of it. “I don’t want either of you getting hurt again. You’re just starting to get back to where you were before.”

That made both of them wince. The last few months of learning to live with new handicaps had been difficult and frustrating in several ways. They didn’t want a repeat with themselves or Vivi or Mystery.

All four of them silently vowed to protect the others.

The walk up to the mansion’s front door took just a few seconds. Vivi knocked on the doors (She was concerned that the inhabitants would be excited by Arthur knocking and see Sydney knocking as a declaration of war.), which creaked open ominously. The inched in, the doors slamming shut behind them.

The darkness didn’t last long enough for them to pull out flashlights. Several purple wisps of fire floated by and lit candles lined along the walls and set on a chandelier.

Vivi absently noted that the layout kind of reminded her of the Spencer mansion, except a lot more purple.

“Sydney, stop humming.”

“Oops. Didn’t notice-”

Several purple ghosts suddenly popped up. “Who-o-o-o-oa!”

Most of the group immediately tensed up. Vivi didn’t immediately though. “Cute!”

They really were adorable…until more popped up behind them. “This time I might just disa-Who-o-o-o-who-o-o-oa!” They suddenly got pointy toothed with claws. “Oh yeah!”

Nope. They took off running down the hallway through break in the ghosts.

“This time I might just disappear!”

A suit of armor suddenly lunged towards them and swung an ax. Sydney and Vivi dove under the ax. Arthur vaulted over it. Mystery barely dodged it, having to use his kitsune magic to retract his head into his body.

“Gah!”

“Mystery!”

“)%$*&$^#$(%^)*%(&%*&$&!”

Mystery popped his head back out before any uncomfortable questions could be asked.

“Who-o-o-o-who-o-o-oa…”

They abruptly realized that the paintings lining the hall were moving. They suddenly leapt out. “Oh yeah!”

The Mystery Skulls leapt into each other’s arms. Thankfully, the portrait spirits pulled back into the paintings. “Who-o-o-o-oa…” And then the lady painting reached out and pulled a rope next to her painting.

A trapdoor opened under them. They fell down screaming, and things became bizarre, even by their standards. They weren’t falling as quickly as they should be. It was more like they were floating. Not to mention there were several random items in the space with them. A few hours later, they would comment on how it was oddly reminiscent of Alice in Wonderland.

They floated past several mirrors. Vivi was a bit confused by the fact that her reflection had completely purple eyes. From what Mystery could see in his cracked mirror they could see past glamours. Arthur was facing away from the mirrors so he didn’t see that they failed to reflect his prosthetic. Sydney did faintly notice this but was a bit distracted by how her reflection showed her right after her injury with her remaining eye leaking various colors from it.

Then Arthur’s fall suddenly sped up. Vivi and Sydney made to grab him, but just missed him. Then they noticed Sydney was falling even slower and tried to grab each other, but it was too late again.

Sydney let out an ‘oof’ and shot to her feet as she landed. “I’m armed!” she shouted, brandishing the ofuda. She turned around. There were a bunch of boxes, a dusty bed with no covers, and… a mannequin in a wedding dress and holding an ax? Sydney thought she was in the basement until she noticed some windows that she ran over to. She felt her brain short circuit. “How the *&^*) do you fall down into the attic?!”

Vivi and Mystery had landed in a kitchen where a pair of dagwood sandwiches were laid out on the center counter. The two stared at them for several moments but managed to pull themselves away. “Right. Separated…We should look for Arthur first. Sydney can take care of herself in this sort of situation.” Her stomach growled. Mystery’s growled even louder. “…I wonder if it would be safe to grab a few pieces.”

Arthur landed on his ass in what was probably the basement. He absentmindedly glanced upward in confusion (How did that work? Ghost logic was so weird.) before zeroing in on a large coffin with a skull and thorny vine design on the top of the lid. It was beating like the rest of the house.

Not good.

The coffin slowly opened, revealing a jawless skull floating above a large body in a nice suit.

Lewis narrowed his eye sockets as he floated out and slammed his feet in front of Arthur. He glared at his murderer, full of hate and anger.

Arthur stared in fear, unable to recognize his dead friend. All he saw was a scary, probably powerful, likely dangerous ghost that had separated him from his friends.

Lewis broke the silence by pointing a finger at Arthur. “Fuck, it’s you I hate the most.”

Arthur gulped and pointed at himself. “Buh-buh-Why?”

It was a reasonable question from Arthur’s point of view. Lewis…it did occur to him that he wasn’t as recognizable without his face. He lit the braziers and let his hair form. “Does this answer your question?!”

No, it didn’t, but Arthur decided he wasn’t going to explain that this was a case of mistaken identity to a ghost that probably wasn’t going to listen. He threw the vial of holy water, turned on his heel, and ran.

Lewis did recoil a bit at the holy water. He was a fire ghost. Water stung even if it wasn’t holy. Then he threw it off, decided this was proof of Arthur’s guilt, and gave chase.

Arthur was in good shape (He didn’t understand how he was still so healthy when he’d been hospitalized and locked in his workroom so much for the last few months.) and used to running from scary things. He glanced behind him and saw the ghost practically flying towards him. No more glancing back. He put on a burst of speed.

Oh, hey, Vivi and Mystery. “Angry ghost! Run!”

Vivi and Mystery looked away from the sandwiches they were still debating eating. They looked in the direction Arthur came from, threw the sandwiches at the angry ghost, and ran after Arthur. Lewis didn’t bother trying to avoid the sandwich contents and flew right through them.

“We need to find Sydney!” shouted Vivi.

“Where is she?!” shouted Arthur.

“I don’t know!”

Mystery could feel that Sydney had ended up in the attic and was managing to work her way down. He pulled ahead and ran up some stairs, Arthur and Vivi close behind him. They ran through a bunch of doors and rooms.

Sydney heard the racket and threw open the door of the room she’d wandered into. “Angry Elvis ghost!”

That threw Lewis for a loop. “Elvis? Are you kid-” He saw the eyepatch. “What happened to your-”

Sydney threw an ofuda at him. Lewis yelped and pulled it off. That hurt!

“You stay away from Arthur!” demanded Sydney.

That hurt almost as much as the ofuda. “You don’t get it. He-”

Vivi darted back and grabbed Sydney. “What’re you waiting for?!” She then dragged Sydney off.

Okay, Vivi and Sydney didn’t know about his murder. Somehow. Maybe it was post traumatic amnesia or something. Clearly, this needed to be remedied. Also, why was Sydney wearing an eyepatch? She wasn’t wearing an eyepatch for the heck of it. There’d been scars peeking out. He gave chase, now equally intent on telling Vivi and Sydney what happened along with killing Arthur.

He threw fire to keep Arthur from moving down a hallway. Arthur turned and stared at him fearfully. Lewis felt his desire for vengeance clawing up his heart.

And then Vivi and Sydney put themselves between them, Vivi with her arms outstretched as if to shield Arthur as much as possible, Sydney with her hands up as if she was prepared to fight him.

This was wrong. Vivi and Sydney were supposed to be on his side. He wasn’t the enemy! He just needed…Maybe…Yes. That would work. He willed his anchor towards them.

They just needed to see the proof of who he was, that they knew him.

The flames died down. Arthur was certain he knew the way to the front door from this spot. He grabbed Vivi and Sydney and booked it.

Vivi and Sydney glanced back once.

Mystery made sure to take up the rear.

Lewis stared in disbelief and heartbreak as his murderer and the love(s?) of his life and (more than) best friend.

And his anchor fell and broke.

And Lewis switched to frustration and anger and despair and why did this happen to him?! Why why why?!

He screamed, pouring his everything into it as his fire erupted around him.

The living Mystery Skulls barely made it through the doors in time to avoid being burned alive. Mystery might have had something to do with it. They rushed to the van. “Go go go!”

Arthur revved the van. It started. “I’m going!”

They peeled out of there.

None of them saw the figure watching them from one of the high windows. Lewis watched as the van drove away. He pressed down on his cracked anchor and looked at the picture inside.

It was from shortly after he and Vivi started dating. He had an arm around Vivi, who was hugging him. Sydney had an arm thrown over his shoulder while he used his free arm to support her. No Arthur. The three of them were smiling and happy and whole and alive.

They could never go back to that.

Lewis barely noticed the tear running down his face as he finally passed out and returned to his anchor, the house fading around him.

#MSA + 1 #msa+1 #Mystery #Vivi #Arthur #Lewis #Ghost #mystery skulls #extra member #au #grrlpowercomic au #What am I getting into?

4 notes · View notes

demonsonthemoon · 6 years

Text

We Shall Rule - Chapter 11

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel Comics Pairings: Platonic Bucky Barnes & Clint Barton, Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson, Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers Word Count: 2644 Note: A shorter chapter than usual, but you’ll get treated to additional nice things once #AggressivelyArospecWeek starts at @aggressivelyarospec (on the 24th of June).

Also available on AO3.

Clint was still asleep when Bucky woke up, and he took a second to appreciate the sight. Clint slept on his side, and right now he had one arm stretched above his head and the other lying near Bucky. From its position, it had probably held onto Bucky at one point during the night. Clint also apparently slept with his mouth half-open, and had an impressive case of bedhead. It was confusingly adorable.

Bucky stood up softly. He considered putting the prosthesis back on again, but felt like it wasn't necessary. So he simply walked out of the bedroom, careful not to let the door creak. He had a pee, then went to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. He had just settled down on the couch when he noticed his phone, abandonned on the coffee table. He remembered texting Steve that he wouldn't be home last night, but also that he hadn't actually waited for a response. He quickly opened the message he'd received in return.

Okay, thanks for letting me know. Tell Clint I say hi, and take care!

Bucky smiled, feeling warm and at ease in a way that felt fundamentally right. The kind of rightness everyone always promised life would be full of.

He closed his eyes and sipped some of his water. He had nothing to do, nowhere to go, and for once the prospect was more comforting than terrifying. He could enjoy this moment, and take the time to pretend it would last forever.

He had stepped into a state that could almost be called meditation when he was interrupted by a loud yawn.

This just made him smile harder, and he looked over the back of the couch to where Clint had just emerged out of the bedroom, hair a complete mess. Clint didn't seem to notice him, making a bee-line to the coffee machine and setting a pot to brew. He stretched his arms above his head, and Bucky found it easy to stare, like the strip of skin revealed by Clint's t-shirt was already familiar territory.

It took two more minutes for Clint to finally look up at Bucky. His eyes widened. “Oh, shit,” Clint said, immediately darting back to the bedroom.

Bucky frowned until he saw Clint come out with one of his hearing aids in hand, having already put in the other one.

“Sorry about that,” Clint started again, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. “I'm very bad at anything involving cognition if I haven't had a cup of coffee first. Which includes remembering when I have someone over and that it's generally seen as appropriate to be able to hear people when you're having them stay at your place.”

Bucky laughed. “It's okay. You already did me a favor by letting me stay, I'm not gonna push my luck and start criticizing your morning routine.”

“You wouldn't be the first one.” Clint frowned, then pointed an accusing finger. “How is your hair not a mess? This isn't fair.”

Bucky laughed again, louder and more freely this time. “I'm just that lucky. Doesn't seem to be your case though.”

Clint resorted to showing him his middle finger, turning around to pour himself a large mug of coffee, and Bucky cackled.

The blond actually came back with two mugs, putting the largest one on the coffee table and handing Bucky the other. “Do you take anything with this? I've got sugar. And I think I've got milk? I'd have to check if it's still good but... yeah.”

“Black is fine.”

Clint looked relieved. He picked up his mug and sat down on the couch next to Bucky. The latter was about to take a sip of his coffee and return to the serene thinking-about-nothing he had been doing earlier, but was interrupted by Clint asking if he was okay with cuddling.

“I'm asking because it's polite but also like... warning you that I am basically an octopus in the morning and that you can kick me away at any time if it starts getting annoying, and also feel free to just say no because obviously not everyone is into cuddling even if we...”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Had sex?”

“Yeah. Even if we had sex.”

Bucky took a second to consider things, especially because Clint was sitting on his left side. Then he shrugged, and turned his shoulders towards the man invitingly. “Cuddle away.”

Clint beamed at him before snuggling into his side and closing his eyes, taking a sip of his coffee and sighing like there was nowhere he would rather be in the world.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, in silence. Bucky could feel his stomach start to grumble, and knew he would have to ask for some food pretty soon, but he didn't feel like dislodging Clint right now. The couch was comfy and soft, and the other man was warm against his side. Food could wait a little longer.

Although, thinking of eating did make him remember something.

“Hey,” he said softly, receiving an inquiring hum as a response as Clint kept drinking his coffee with his eyes closed. “You still okay with coming over to my flat and meeting Steve?

Clint pulled away at that, looking him in the eyes. “You know, the way you keep insisting on this, it really sounds like we just got engaged and I'm about to meet your parents.”

Bucky shook his head. “Nah. You're gonna have to wait a while for that still. I'm not really in touch with my mom much.”

“You didn't say we hadn't just got engaged,” Clint pointed out, smiling.

And Bucky found himself laughing again. “You might have to wait a while for that too.”

Clint gave him a look that he guessed was supposed to be suggestive, although his bedhead made it look more ridiculous than anything. Bucky raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

“I'm serious though. Are you sure you're okay with coming? Because... well, I really want you there. But I'm not sure how it's gonna go, because I really don't know Peggy. Steve would be happy to meet you, though, I think. No pressure though. I mean... it wouldn't be a big dinner or anything. Just a way to spend an evening together. Get to know each other.”

Clint ran a hand through his hair. “I'm... Yeah. I mean, yeah, if you want me to come I'll try to be there.” He paused. “I just... Do you think it'll be okay with your roommate? I'm not...”

“You're not what?” Bucky frowned.

“Well, you already sound nervous and I... I'm not usually the kind of person people want to introduce to their other friends.”

Bucky was at a loss. “Why? Why wouldn't I... introduce you to my friends? I love spending time with you. You're funny, you're considerate, you make me feel at ease. Why wouldn't I want other people to get to know you?”

Clint pulled away almost imperciptably, folding his arms around himself. “Well, I don't know. I'm kind of a mess of a person. I'm unable to stick to the schedule of any normal futzing person because of insomnia and, like, my only close friends are either people I work for or kids nearly ten years younger than me and I don't have any of the goals people are supposed to have in life so that kind of limits the subjects of conversation and... I don't know!”

He raised his voice on the last word, then turned away, seemingly realising how defensive he had been acting. Bucky didn't know if he should reach out with one hand or leave Clint alone as he processed things.

In the end, he put his nearly empty cup of coffee on the table, and turned more fully towards Clint, trying to show that he was there and attentive without actually intruding on the other man's personal space.

“I don't know what other people have told you, Clint, but I like you. I like spending time with you. And who cares about regular life goals? I exchanged my arm for a shitload of PTSD after joining the army to run away from my problems, and I don't know if I'll ever be able to work again. I don't give a fuck about regular life goals. Neither does Steve. He worked super hard for me to let him be my friend again, just so that he could take care of me. We don't care. And neither should you. We're not gonna judge.” “Okay,” Clint said.

It threw Bucky off, has he had expected to have to fight much more than that to make himself heard. “Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay. I'll come have dinner with you and your roommate.”

His tone was carefully neutral, which made something hurt in Bucky's chest. “Clint... I'm sorry if the way I said things made you think that... that you have to come. I don't want to force you to do anything you're not comfortable with.”

Clint shook his head. “No, no. I'll come. I'll... I'll try to come. If I can. I didn't mean... I didn't mean to make it sound like I'm not... like I don't want to.”

“Okay...” Bucky kept silent for a moment, unconvinced, as Clint downed the last of his coffee. Then his stomach grumbled. Apparently his inner clock was telling him it was time to change the subject. “Any chance of you having something I could eat before I head off?”

Clint smiled easily, as if the strained conversation that had just passed was already but a distant memory. “I can look. I know I've got cereals because Kate keeps some around for when she crashes here. I probably have some leftover bread we can toast and... eggs? I think? Though I can't promise not to burn them.”

“I can cook the eggs if you want. I don't mind.”

“Sure,” Clint replied, standing up. “Do you need to... uh...” He faltered, hesitating, then tilted his head towards Bucky's left shoulder.

“Uuh...” Bucky felt himself blush, which wasn't a reaction he had expected. “Nah. I can manage without if it's just cooking eggs. It's more comfortable if I don't wear the prosthesis too long.”

Clint nodded. “Well, follow me, then.”

The grandeur of the order was completely unnecessary considering Bucky had been here before and that the kitchen was more a half-closed off area in a corner of the living-room than an actual other room, but then again. This was Clint Barton.

The dinner was planned on a Saturday two weeks from then, because Peggy worked during the week and couldn't free herself up before then. Both Steve and Bucky were vibrating with anxious energy as they prepared the food, orbiting around one another without actually talking more than strictly necessary. It was tense and painful and the opposite of what this evening was supposed to be. Bucky felt almost physically sick with it, but he didn't know how to tell Steve, didn't want to admit all that he was scared of. He was scared of meeting Peggy, of not liking her and breaking Steve's heart. He was scared that Peggy wouldn't like him, that she would take one look at him and see right through everything, see how much of a burden he was on Steve, and that she wouldn't stand for it. Scared that she would take Steve away. And he was scared about Clint, because although he had meant every word he had told him, Clint's own doubts had started creeping into Bucky's brain. What if Steve didn't like him? What if Steve thought he was wasting his time? What if they fought and it ruined everything?

It was awful. Everything was awful and Bucky found himself gripping the countertop and staring into the pot of carrot and orange juice soup that was starting to bubble ominously.

“Hey,” Steve said softly. Bucky forced himself not to jump, and turned to face his best friend.

“Hey.”

Steve smiled tensely. “We need to talk.” His expression looked like a flinch put on hold, which would have been hilarious if Bucky didn't feel how serious the moment was.

“Yeah. Yeah, we do.”

“Couch?”

“Okay.” Bucky turned down the power of the stove so the soup wouldn't boil over and finally pulled himself away from the counter.

They both sat down on the living-room couch, an old thing that had belonged to Steve's mom and that that none of them would even consider getting rid of despite how lumpy it was.

“This evening is supposed to be nice,” Steve began. Bucky stiffly nodded in response. There was a pause. “It's not looking like it's gonna be nice, right now.”

Bucky looked down at his lap. “Yeah. Sorry, I...” He faltered, too scared of what he was going to say to find the right words.

“No, I'm sorry too,” Steve said then. “We've both been... cagey. It's definitely not just you.” He fiddled with the edge of his shirt. “I've been... worried. Scared. Of how this is gonna go.”

“Me too,” Bucky replied, voice low and eyes still cast low. “Clint as well.”

“I know you like Sam. And I'm afraid you won't get along with Peggy in the same way, and that you'll get mad at what I've wasted with Sam and...”

“You haven't wasted anything. Sam hasn't answered yet.”

“I know. I know but... It's been...” Bucky looked up, but it was Steve's turn to turn away. “I don't want to get my hopes up.”

“I'm scared that Peggy and I won't get along, and that she will make you choose between the both of us.”

Steve opened his mouth, ready to protest the idea, but Bucky kept talking.

“And I'm scared you won't like Clint, because he's scared you won't like him, and I don't know why that's actually so scary, except that you mean a lot to me and that I like Clint a lot and that I would really love it if you two could become friends. So yeah.”

Steve ran a hand through his hair, then across his face. “Urgh. What a mess. Do you...” He looked up, uncertain. “Do you want to call the dinner off?”

Bucky froze for a second. Did he? Then he shook his head. “No. I don't think that's a good idea. I think that if we did that we wouldn't ever be able to do it again. We'd be even more scared. I think this is a pull-the-band-aid-off situation.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. I think you're right.”

“We'll just... We know each other.” Steve nodded again. “We can trust each other's tastes, right? And even if... if something happens. We can talk it out.”

“It won't... it won't come between us. It can't. It's just... she's just my girlfriend.”

“And Clint's not even my boyfriend.”

Steve smiled tiredly, then reached out slightly. “Can I...?”

Bucky closed the rest of the distance, wrapping his arms around his best friends. Steve melted into the embrace, hiding his face against Bucky's shoulder. They both focused on calming their breathing down, letting the warmth and calm wash over them.

“Should we make sure everything's ready?” Steve whispered against Bucky's shirt.

“Yeah. Let's do that. Let's be perfect hosts and make our mothers proud, shall we?”

The joke was bad, but unexpected enough that it surprised a short laugh out of Steve. He got up and gave a hand to Bucky, which was funny in and of itself, since Bucky probably weighed twice as much as Steve even without his prosthesis on.

In that moment, it looked like it could still be okay.

#Meeni writes fics #Winterhawk #Clint Barton #Bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers #Fic: We Shall Rule

2 notes · View notes

green-eyeddragonfanfiction · 7 years

Text

Running from the Past: Chapter 4

Summary: Reader is a mutant who was experimented on by HYDRA. Due to her unique powers, she escaped a year and a half ago without being seen when the Avengers attacked the Hydra compound she was kept in for 5 years of her life. Her mutations and Hydra experiments allow her to blend in with her surroundings (like a chameleon/cuttlefish/octopus) and change her appearance in minor ways (such as hair, skin, and eye color), though the changes are only temporary. She’s been caught by the Avengers. After a long and painful conversation with the Winter Soldier, she accepts his help in getting her memories from before 6 ½ years ago back. She also suspects he’s hiding something from her. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 2,661 Warnings: language (always), violence/fighting, traumatic past (mentions of torture/experimentation), slow burn, angst, fluff, delicious breakfast food (Rough) Translations: Bonne apétit, garçons -enjoy the meal, boys кукла - doll Спасибо за еду -thanks for the meal A/N: A huge thank you to everyone liking and reblogging my posts <3 This is my first big fic and the support feels awesome. You’re all amazing! Also, this chapter = poor confused baby Bucky…. and sorry for shooting him in the leg earlier, but babe’s strong. he can take it.

Masterlist // Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

It took everything you had to keep your face impassive. The pressure in the base of your skull returned when he used the nickname, and you gritted your teeth.

“Dollface is fine. Just go get my shit, please,” you say, your tone giving away your internal struggle.

He nodded, grinning deviously. “If you have any questions or need anything, ask FRIDAY. If you need me or the team for whatever reason, just ask FRIDAY to let us know,” he said, sparing you one last glance over his shoulder before he walked out the doors of the observation room.

To your surprise, it wasn’t Bucky who returned with the blanket and entertainment. You were pacing your room, your thoughts wandering, when Wanda poked her head in the door. She saw you staring at her with a raised eyebrow and walked in, smiling tentatively.

“Hey,” you said cautiously, not entirely sure where you stood with the woman after your comments earlier.

“Hey, (Y/N),” she responded with a small smile.

There was an awkward pause.

“I, uh, hope you like romance novels. They’re most of what I own,” she said, nodding to the small pile of books in her arms that teetered precariously on top of a fuzzy-looking fuchsia blanket.

You thought back to the bookshelves at your apartment, overburdened with romance novels. You could find the books littering every surface of the tiny apartment. “Yeah, that’ll do, I guess,” you said, cheeks burning.

Wanda gave you a crooked smile as though she could tell what was going through your head. You realized she very well might. If she did, though, she didn’t let on. She pressed a button on the wall that you couldn’t see and a small 8inx8in square hole in the wall opened at about chest height next to you. She passed the books and blanket to you through it.

“This one’s my favorite,” she said, handing you a well-loved book with a particularly muscular, oiled-up, bare-chested man on the cover.

“Yeah, Jean Lancaster is a literary genius,” you said, smiling fondly at the book. You had a brief moment of oblivious bliss before your eyes widened comically in horror, hand flying up to cover your big dumb mouth.

Wanda laughed at your reaction. Hard. You briefly considered crawling into the darkest hole you could find and never coming out. But Wanda’s laughter was contagious, and you soon found yourself laughing along, books and blanket forgotten on your bed.

To your horror, Bucky chose that time to walk into the observation room.

“What’s going on in here? I could hear you both down the hall-” he paused as he took in the sight in front of him. Wanda was almost red in the face from laughing so hard, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. Your head whipped around to Wanda, your slightly puffy, watery eyes pleading. The look on your face sent her off into another fit of hysterical giggles.

“Wanda?” he asked, completely taken aback.

“Wanda,” you whined, your voice pleading.

With what you assumed was immense difficulty, she managed to get a few words out. You strained to hear them between the giggles.

“It’s’ok, Bucky. Just bonding,” she said, throwing you a devious smirk. You shushed her as subtly as you could. Bucky looked between the two of you, the confusion on his face as clear as day. She rolled her eyes at him. “Out, you big oaf. We’re going to have girl talk,” she said, pushing him towards the door.

“But-” he began, but she gave him a shove out the door.

“I said girl talk, Barnes!” she said with pseudo anger. He whirled around to protest, but she simply waved at him happily as the doors shut in his face. “Keep him out for a while, please, FRIDAY,” she said, turning back to you.

“As you wish, Ms. Maximoff,” FRIDAY said. You heard the door lock with a surprisingly loud thunk.

“So, lovely weather we’re having, eh?” you grinned nervously at her.

“No, no. We’re talking about this. You’re not getting out of this conversation by changing the subject,” she said, pulling a chair up to the large glass wall.

You groaned and plopped down on your bed. “Alright, which series are we starting with?” you asked her, resigning yourself to your fate.

She grinned happily at you before spurring onward into a tirade so impressive you thought it had to be rehearsed.

You talked with Wanda about romance novels for hours. You discussed your favorite authors and the best plot twists of each of your favorite books. You both commiserated over how much you hated badly written doe-eyed heroines with no backbone. There may or may not have been slight squealing over certain muscle-bound heroes you both liked. You debated on whether modern day romances were better, or if tragedy in classics like Romeo and Juliet were what made a romance truly great. Bucky had come by and dropped dinner off for the both of you. You both gave him distracted “thank you”’s before returning to your debate. While you ate, however, your conversation lulled.

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, in between mouthfuls of mashed potatoes.

She looked up from her meal at you and smiled softly. She didn’t need to ask what you were talking about. “It’s alright,” she said before she took a bite of chicken. She grimaced at how dry it was a took a sip of the orange juice Bucky had brought you with your meals.

“Please tell me,” you said, braver than you felt. You nearly shriveled under the look she gave you. She assessed you coolly before speaking.

“Are you sure? It’s not a happy story.”

“I never thought it was. It must have been awful for Hydra to seem like an improvement…” you say meekly, not wanting your words to be taken as a challenge.

She sighed deeply and took another sip of orange juice. She gazed at you over the glass before setting it down.

Then, she told you everything.

She told you about her family that lived a hard but happy life together in Sokovia. Of the fighting that claimed her parents’ lives and nearly claimed her and her brother’s. How their thirst for vengeance against Tony Stark had driven them to nearly destroy the world. She told you, finally, of how her brother died on the floating death rock that was Sokovia, protecting Hawkeye and a small boy. She got very quiet at the last part. You could see it in her eyes- she was years and a thousand miles away, back in Sokovia.

“I’m sorry,” you croaked out. Your voice snapped her out of her reverie and she gave you a weak smile.

“You didn’t have to start crying, you know,” she said in a teasing tone that couldn’t quite hide how sad she sounded. You were crying? You reached up and felt your cheek. Yup, those were tears. You’d begun crying without even realizing it.

“I’m horrible for saying those things to you,” you said, rubbing your tears away with your sleeved arm.

“You didn’t know… and I’ve made plenty of mistakes. Mistakes I have to live with for the rest of my life. I suppose what I’m trying to say is: Don’t worry about it,” she said, smiling fondly at you.

You nodded, not trusting your voice to keep from cracking.

“Miss Maximoff, I’m sorry to interrupt ‘girl time,’ but Captain Rogers and Mister Wilson are back from their mission and request your presence for debriefing,” FRIDAY’s voice said over the room’s speaker system.

“Tell them I’ll be there in a moment, please, FRIDAY,” Wanda said to the VI.

“Right away, Miss Maximoff,” it responded.

“Duty calls,” she said as she got up and stretched, stiff from sitting for so long. “Are you done with your dinner?” she asked, motioning to the mostly empty plate in your lap.

You shoveled one last massive spoonful of mashed potatoes into your mouth and swallowed. “I am now,” you said, grinning impishly.

“Gross,” she said, smiling at you. “I’ll take it back with me,” she said, pressing the button to open up the hole in the wall. You stuck your plate through and she placed it and her glass on top of her own.

“Thanks,” you said, smiling up at her.

“Hey, what are friends for?” she said, smiling back. She looked pointedly at the books, then winked at you. “Enjoy.”

You groaned. “I hate you,” you said halfheartedly, unable to fight back a half smile.

“No you don’t,” she said cheerily as she walked out of the room, doors shutting firmly behind her.

You sighed and carefully arranged Wanda’s books into a neat pile next to your bed. You absently wondered what time it was. There wasn’t a clock or window in your tiny room-cell. You laid back on your bed, snuggling up under the white and fuchsia blankets. It could be any time of the day, but you weren’t tired. You picked up a book and started reading.

You awoke to the sound of the doors to the observation room opening. You groaned, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. You must have been more tired than you thought. You’d fallen asleep two and a half chapters into The Contest. It was such a racy read- you didn’t even think it was possible to fall asleep reading it.

You closed the book, put it down, and looked to see who had deemed you worthy of visiting.

You weren’t that surprised to see Bucky, but Steve standing there surprised you. ”And to what do I owe the pleasure, fellas?” you asked, watching them suspiciously.

“Bucky told me about you accepting our help. Wanda- though she won’t go into any specifics- has decided you’re most likely not a flight risk anymore,” Steve said, staring at you evenly. He paused. “Are you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

“That depends on whether or not you try to feed me that bone dry chicken again or not,” you said, smirking. “It was like eating chicken-flavored sand.”

Bucky and the Cap smiled in unison, but Steve tried to look serious halfway through. It didn’t work, and your grin widened.

You let the joke sit for a moment before you sobered. “I’ll stick around for a while, Captain. Until this whole Hydra shitstorm blows over. Besides,” you said, glancing at Bucky, “I’ve gotten a very interesting proposal.”

“Please, call me Steve,” he said as he tapped away at the screen of a panel you couldn’t see in front of him. A loud clunk to your left caught your attention. The door was ever so slightly ajar now. You looked back at them incredulously. You pointed at it and raised an eyebrow in question. Bucky snorted, smiling, and Steve smiled and nodded.

“FREEDOM!” you screeched, yanking the door open and throwing yourself bodily into the corridor. The super soldiers followed you into the hallway, alarmed. You ran down it, relishing the ability to move more than six feet in any one direction. They jogged after you, still confused. You suddenly whirled around to face them. “Kitchen,” you said simply. They pointed down the hallway. You sprinted down it.

As you came upon an intersection, Bucky yelled to you. “Left,” he said, finally catching up to you. But you were off again in a flash. He gestured helplessly at you to Steve who seemed amused by the whole situation. Bucky groaned and jogged after you, slowed down by his only mostly-healed leg, Steve trailing closely behind.

By the time they’d arrived in kitchen, you’d already searched through most of the cupboards for the things you needed.

“Communal food rules?” you asked without looking at them as you continued to ransack the pantry.

“It’s open for everyone to use unless there’s a name on it. Never touch the prime cuts of steak, though. Sam forgets to write his name on them a lot and he’ll attempt to kill you if you eat ‘em,” Bucky said, leaning against the door frame as he watched you work.

“That’s only you, Bucky. He only gives the rest of us the cold shoulder for a day or two if we eat them,” Steve said, smiling at his friends’ shenanigans. He walked into the kitchen and sat on a stool at the island. Bucky followed his lead and sat down next to him.

“I’m beginning to think he doesn’t like me very much,” Bucky said, sarcasm dripping from every word.

“What gave it away?” Steve asked, matching his sarcastic tone.

Bucky was about to respond, but you spoke before he could.

“What do you guys like in your pancakes?” you ask, having found a huge bowl and pancake mix.

“Banana,” said Bucky without skipping a beat.

“Blueberry,” Steve said just after that.

You nodded.

“Eggs?” you asked after you located a nice non-stick pan under the counter.

“Over-easy,” they both said in unison. You chuckled and nodded.

“Got it,” you said.

While the pans heated and fruit prepped, you portioned out the pancake mix, adding banana slices to one third, blueberries to another, and cinnamon and a handful of chocolate chips to the last. You pulled out the carton of eggs and a stick of butter.

“So I hate to ask- I don’t want to lose my homemade breakfast privileges- but what brought this on? Are you just really hungry?” Steve asked, watching you work with interest.

“She loves breakfast food,” Bucky said, smiling faintly as he watched you work.

You froze for a second- not long enough for them to notice. How did he know that? That wasn’t something many people knew about you, and he said it like it was as plain as day. If he was to be believed, your relationship with him during your time as a spy for Hydra was professional (not to mention very, very evil). Were you even yourself while you were brainwashed? Did your love of breakfast food somehow transcend brainwashing? Or was there something he wasn’t telling you?

“Who doesn’t love breakfast food?” you said as cheerfully as you could manage. Neither Steve nor Bucky seemed to notice anything off about your tone. They were too enraptured by the food cooking on the stove.

“Amen to that,” Bucky said, watching as you flipped the pancakes perfectly. In between flipping enormous pancakes and their over-easy eggs, you pulled out three huge plates. As the food finished cooking, you tossed it onto their plates, doing increasingly difficult flips as you went. A behind-the-back-halfway-across-the-kitchen-pancake-flip earned a low, impressed whistle from Bucky and a round of applause from Steve. You finished scrambling your eggs and shoveled them from the pan onto your plate. You grabbed syrup and whipped cream from the fridge and placed them on the counter, set your plate down, and took a seat next to Bucky at the kitchen island.

“Thanks, (Y/N),” Steve said, lightly salting and peppering his eggs.

“Bonne apétit, garçons,” you said, taking a moment to appreciate your handiwork.

To your shock, you realized your beautiful three-stack cinnamon-chocolate pancake pile had been infiltrated by a banana pancake. It sat smugly in the middle, taunting you. You realized Bucky must have swapped one of his for yours when you weren’t looking.

“Oi,” you said, turning to look at Bucky.

“Is there a problem, sweetheart?” he asked, smiling at you innocently.

You opened your mouth to say something, but then the smell hit you. Cinnamon-chocolate-banana perfection, sitting there on your plate. You closed your mouth and stared at the pancakes in awe.

“Nothing,” you said, throwing some softened butter onto your stack of pancakes. You heard him chuckle under his breath.

“Looks delicious, кукла. Спасибо за еду,” Bucky said as he reached for the syrup at the same time you did. Your hands collided midair.

And just like that, it felt like the world exploded around you. The only thing you felt before the world went black was the rending pain in your head. You swore your head was collapsing in on itself.

Chapter 5

If you like this series and want to be tagged in others like it, check out

this post!

☕ Buy Me a Coffee! ☕

#Bucky x Reader #bucky barnes #winter soldier #Winter Soldier x Reader #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers #wanda maximoff

297 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 7 years

Text

Heavy Rain Ch.1 (Shalaska/Katlaska)- Insomnidelic

AN: Hey guys! I wrote this in response to the anon asking for a Shalaska amnesia fic. It’s my very first time writing so I’m definitely open to constructive criticism, it would help out a lot! Anyway, to give a little summary, Alaska suffers a head injury resulting in her forgetting that her and Sharon ever broke up. Angst with a little humor and smut mixed in. Female pronouns in drag/Male out of drag. Enjoy!

Howling wind rattled the windows of the theater, rain continuing to pour non-stop as it did the night before. It was quite the ordeal to get a tour bus full of queens through the flooded streets of downtown LA. Nevertheless, they all made it safely to their location; a buzz of relief and excitement now resonates within the rehearsal hall. Alaska and Katya are the first off the bus, entering the tiniest dressing room imaginable to begin setting up.

“Now its time to slip into something a little more comfortable,” Alaska wags her eyebrows and pulls out her “woman body” from her carry on, stripping without a care of her surroundings.

“Easy cowboy, you’ll poke eye out with that thing.” Katya remarks, glancing down at Alaska’s sizeable bulge hidden beneath her Marco Marco underwear.

“What can I say? Traveling makes me horny.” Alaska replies flirtatiously, a knowing smirk on her lips as she locks eyes with the older queen. The two had been flirting endlessly since starting rehearsals for BOTS a few months ago. Maybe it had something to do with the two hooking up after there last show together in Chicago. Nothing serious to either parties, but it was a welcome fling and both were open to exploring one another even more. Sharon over hears the conversation, leaning in the doorway eyeing the two queens.

“Everything makes you horny, Alaska.” She says with a chuckle, rolling her eyes. Her presence cuts the sexual tension building between Alaska and Katya, the two turning from one another to continue their unpacking. Sharon walks further into the dressing room, pulling her suitcases behind her.

“I honestly really fucking regret telling Chad to take a rest back the bus, I forgot how much shit I’d have to haul in by myself.” She groans.

“I don’t blame him for being tired. Having to be around you 24/7 is positively exhausting. Trust me, I’d know,” Alaska snarks, letting out a boisterous laugh as Sharon gives her the finger without looking up from organizing her makeup at her vanity. After a pause, Sharon glances back up to see Alaska facing her direction in the mirror, head turned as she chats quietly with Katya beside her, hands on her hips and clad in just her briefs. Her bulge still out for all to see. Sharon catches her gaze lingering a little too long on the aforementioned crotch and pulls her eyes up to meet Alaska’s in the reflection of the vanity. Sharon smirks and shakes her head, breaking their gaze.

Suddenly realizing her nakedness in front of Sharon, Alaska blushes faintly, stuffs her costuming back in her bag and walks out of the dressing room, opting to change in the restroom down the hall. As she exits, the remaining queens enter the cramped space, hauling their luggage behind them.

“Alright ladies, looks like we’re having rolling power outages. So if there’s a black out, don’t panic. Stay still and wait for the lights to come on so we don’t have any injuries on our hands.” A hefty stage worker huffs in the doorway of the dressing room before heading back to the main stage. The queens murmur in agreement, all dressed in half drag for a costume run-through.

“I do hope the sky is clear for tomorrow, it’d be such a bummer if the tour was delayed.” Courtney sighed as she fitted her wig onto her scalp. Adore and Violet hum in agreement. Alaska wanders into the dressing room once more, a humorous sight without a stitch of makeup on, five o’clock shadow, and in full padding and hair.

“Does anyone know the rehearsal schedule?” She breathed, tilting her head and batting her lashes at the queens in the row of mirrors lining the walls.

“You’re third, Lasky.” Michelle says over her shoulder, continuing to adjust her cleavage in her gown for the opening number.

“Hey, just like season five!” snickers Sharon on the opposite end of the room, getting a few laughs from Jinkx and Katya. Alaska frowns comically at her statement and saunters over to her vanity.

“I didn’t know you were such a comedian Noodles, for a while I assumed the only thing funny about you was your di-“ she was interrupted by a stagehand knocking on the doorpost.

“Alaska, they’ve moved you up to first slot for rehearsal, we’re still working on technicals for the opening number and Michelle’s medley.” He says, turning on his heels and back out into the hall.

“First does seem more appropriate.” Alaska drawls in her best Blanche Devereaux impersonation, adjusting her wig and sauntering out of the dressing room.

–

“Anus” blasts over the loudspeakers of the auditorium as Alaska and her dancers give it all they’ve got on stage. As she spins in circles for the finale of the song, she notices that her giant “Anus” banner that was to be lowered behind her at this point is nowhere in sight. She stops abruptly.

“Cut!! Cut the music!” She screeches.

The audio cuts out, still ringing in the ears of the few queens settled in the seats to watch. Michelle gives a questioning look onto the stage.

“What’s wrong?!” She yells back to her.

“Why isn’t the banner lowered behind me?” Alaska whines.

Michelle rolls her eyes, both at her tone and in annoyance with the bumpy rehearsal.

“Oh dear lord. Jeff!” she exclaimed, glaring to the back of the auditorium at the sound booth. The producer, Jeff, runs down the aisle from the booth after watching the scene unfold.

“Sorry about that Lasky, we’re just having a few difficulties with controls, go ahead and start from the middle and we’ll give it another go.” He apologizes.

“You mind if we take a break for this one?” One of her dancers pleads.

“Yeah, sorry boys. You can have a seat.” She smirks as they hop off the stage, staring at the way their asses bounced when their feet hit the floor.

The music starts again.

Whatcha wanna do? And where you wanna go? I wanna feel it feel it in your pussy pussy hole.

The climax of the song is hit and the banner begins to lower, quicker than expected, right above Alaska’s spinning form.

Then suddenly the lights go out. Dink. The music stops abruptly and the sighs of frustration from the queens resonate throughout the nearly empty rehearsal hall. Pitch-black darkness filled the room.

“Alright folks… sorry about that. Stay still while we wait for the backup generator to kick the lights back on.” Jeff’s voice is heard from the loudspeakers.

“At least the banner was lowered, huh Lasky?” Michelle shouts with a chuckle accompanied by the surrounding queens. No response.

“Alaska?”

Silence.

The hum of the backup generator is heard and the lights flicker on one by one, the main stage light the last of them. The banner and support beam hung lower than usual, the fabric of it hitting the floor completely, Alaska nowhere in site.

“That’s too low, pull her up for me Tom.” Jeff says to his assistant.

The banner raises and Alaska’s form is seen laying flat on stage, her head tilted slightly, facing the opposite direction.

“Oh my God!!” Michelle screams and runs as fast as she can onto the stage followed by Sharon and Adore.

Alaska lies with a bloody forehead, breathing heavy and whimpering in pain. Sharon rushes to lift her head up off the cold floor, cradling her top half as Michelle inspects the rest of her.

“Someone call 911 now!” Sharon yells out as Alaska struggles to open her eyes, groaning in agony. Sharon pulls Alaska’s wig off, sticky with bloody.

“Shhh its going to be ok, Justin.” She whispers feverishly.

Justin? Where did that come from? Sharon and Alaska usually stuck to stage names out of drag. There was a sense of intimacy surrounding the use of their boy names, so he avoided using them as much as possible ever since he started dating Chad. Alaska understood that, he thought. They were best friends, but it was a business first relationship. But seeing him here like this, bloody, with no wig or makeup on was all too real for him. This was Justin, laying here in his arms. Hurt.

And for the first time, in a very long time, Aaron was scared.

–

“Well according to his scans, he suffered some light bruising on his skull. Nothing too major, we’re just going to let him rest for the time being and will assess the damage further when he wakes up.” The balding doctor assures the small group gathered in the cramped hospital room. Shane and Michelle seemed the most concerned, Jason leaning against the wall along with Jerick and Danny, worried glances shared with one another. Aaron sits across the room, feigning nonchalance at the doctor’s words. If he seemed too worried, it would look a little weird, right? He obviously wanted Justin to be okay, but being overly anxious about the situation might raise some eyebrows, he thought. Its not like he still had feelings for him…

“Alright well I could use something to eat, anyone wanna come with me to see what this cafeteria has to offer?” Jerick sighs and Danny nods in agreement, giving a woeful look to his friend in the hospital bed.

Jason follows the two queens, “Let us know when he wakes up.” He tells Michelle over his shoulder.

“What if he has a concussion? What if he doesn’t wake up?” Michelle asks worriedly to the doctor as he scribbles away on his chart. She stands at Justin’s side, lightly brushing his sweaty curls away from his eyes, avoiding the bandages wrapped around the side of his head.

“Ma’am, I assure you. We had him checked before giving him medication to help him rest. It was a minor injury and he wasn’t knocked unconscious on impact so you have nothing to worry about. It’s mostly just surface damage.” He pockets his pen in his lab coat.

“Please be sure to notify the nursing staff if he starts to wake.” With that, doctor so and so takes his exit.

Michelle looks at Aaron, shaking her head. “How can you trust a doctor wearing scrubs that shade of green?” she murmurs, a revolted expression on her face.

Aaron allows himself to laugh a little. He can’t shake this feeling in the pit of his stomach. He only hoped everything would be okay with Justin once he woke up. He was distracted as Chad and Brian walked through the door, Brian holding a tiny balloon bouquet with candy and a “Get well soon” card attached to it. Chad walks over to Aaron, not saying a word, and begins gently rubbing his shoulders, feeling how tense his partner was. He gave him a concerned look.

“I’m fine, just stressed over… the tour.” He says to Chad, noticing his gaze.

“Alright.” Chad shrugs, rolling his eyes slightly at Aaron’s defensive tone.

Brian sets his gift on the bedside table and leans into Justin’s ear. “Mothaaa, I’ve brought you candy agaaain.” He whispers with a light chuckle and settles into the chair next to him. It was a shame really. He had been looking forward to having a little sexy fun with Justin that night after rehearsal. But for whatever reason, Brian couldn’t shake this feeling that his concern with the younger queen ran deeper than just sex. Seeing Justin laying there motionless upset him more than he thought it would… but that was something he thought best to keep to himself for now.

Shane walks over and pulls up a chair next to Brian, pulling out his phone to bide the time. The gang slips into easy conversation and starts discussing cancelling the first round of shows, much to Michelle’s dismay.

“It just wouldn’t feel right starting without Justin- err Alaska.” Aaron corrects himself, shooting a glance toward Chad. Did he catch that? Did he really care? He always called Justin “Alaska” around Chad. The intimacy thing, he remembered. Chad seemed unbothered, not really catching any of the conversation, looking down at his phone. Aaron glanced back at the bed and notices Shane staring at him.

“What?” He mouths at the queen.

“Nothing.” Shane mouths back, a smirk playing on his lips as his eyes wonder back to his phone.

Justin began to stir and the room fell silent.

“Babe can you get a nurse, I think he’s about to wake up.” Aaron asks his fiancé who nods in agreement, getting up and slipping out of the room.

Justin’s eyes crack open, his breathing quickens in pace as he panics a bit, taking in his surroundings. A hospital? He thought, confused before feeling a dull ache on the upper right side of his head. He notices Michelle right away hovering over him, but the two men on his left weren’t very familiar. He squints at Brian and Shane, unsure of what to think of their presence. His eyes wander to Aaron, standing up across the room, and he’s flooded with relief and he smiles. Aaron smiled widely back at him and walks over to his side, Michelle moving to make room.

“Hey Lasky, how do you feel? You took quite the hit to the head.” he breathes gently not wanting to startle Justin.

“Like shit.” Justin croaks.

“Is there anything I can get you?” Aaron whispers with a chuckle. He leaned in closer, putting his hand on Justin’s, surprised a little at the way he reciprocates, giving his hand a squeeze and pulling it to his gown-clad chest. Aaron had always given little touches here and there, a pat on the back, a squeeze on the shoulder. But it was rare for Justin to return those types of friendly gestures. Justin looks into Aaron’s eyes, the two beaming at one another.

“All I need is you.” Justin whispers, leaning up and planting an unsuspected kiss right on Aaron’s lips.

Their lips had been touching for what seemed like an eternity. He was softer than Aaron remembered. Sweeter. This kiss was so different from any that he received from Justin before they split.

You could hear a pin drop in the room at this moment.

Michelle gawked at the two former lovers. Brian sat eyes wide in utter surprise. He swallowed hard. When had a lump formed in his throat? Shane, shocked at first, was back to smirking cheekily, shaking his head as if he knew something no one else did. Aaron hadn’t even realized his eyes were closed. He opened them to see a grinning Justin. He pulls away and turns his head to see Jerick, Danny, and Jason, dumbfounded. Danny holding back laughter at the uncomfortable situation. They had walked in just in time to see the whole thing and not one of them could think of a viable explanation for what they had just witnessed.

Oh, and Chad. Chad had seen it too. And he didn’t look happy.

Shit.

#shalaska #katlaska #tw blood #tw injury #tw memory loss #alaska thudnerfuck #angst #humour #sharon needles #katya zamolodchikova #rpdr fanfiction #heavy rain #insomnidelic #canon compliant

56 notes · View notes