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connan-l · 1 year

Text

a hundred year’s worth of happiness

Fandom: Higurashi: When They Cry

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationship: Furude Rika & Club Game Members, Furude Rika & Houjou Satoko, Furude Rika & Maebara Keiichi, Furude Rika & Akasaka Miyuki, Furude Rika & Takano Miyo

Summary: Rika comes back home, a hundred and twenty years weighting on her shoulders.

Content Warnings: So there’s nothing much to warn for really, but there are still some mentions of alcohol/alcoholism, depression and trauma, as well as a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it reference to past self-harm/cutting.

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Link on Archive of Our Own

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Notes: Happy 20th year anniversary, Higurashi!

So that future fic was meant to be published this summer to celebrate the anniversary, but I obviously got very late so you only get it now, but I think it’s still valid if I’m able to publish this before the end of 2022 :) (What do you mean it’s not 2022 anymore nope I’m not listening hahaha—)

So, a few clarifications: I originally didn’t want to confirm or mention any ships here because I wanted it to be primarily focused on the platonic relationships. However, I then decided I wanted to include child characters — that’d only makes sense given they’re all in their thirties by now, and that becoming a parent is one of the most obvious biggest change of adulthood — so as a result, well, there are still some pretty big hints about who’s dating who here, even if I tried to stay as vague and gen as possible, so you can still make your own assumptions. Those child characters are also kind of based on the ones from the Higurashi Reiwa manga, but as you’ll notice quickly the two who are present are still very different from the ones depicted in canon, because they’re more interesting that way to me.

Also, Natsumi makes a cameo in this, even if I absolutely admit that she serves zero purpose in that fic lol. She’s just here cause I think she’s really the representative of the Higurashi side-arcs and because she’s cute so yeah.

Anyway, this takes place post-Matsuribayashi (and… post-Saikoroshi too, I suppose). I didn’t really take Gou/Sotsu/Meguri into consideration while writing this so it’s not referenced at all, but you’re welcome to interpret it happened as well if you want to!

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That's because

I’m going to become much, much more happy from now on.

I’m not going to compromise with just this.

We are going to take back all of our happiness that we lost.

For me, that is about a hundred year’s worth.

For you, a thousand year’s worth.

-Frederica Bernkastel

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Early summer of the 15th year of the Heisei era

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She felt like someone was apologizing continuously.

A repeating, pitiful noise resonating in her ears — an ominous familiarity making her heart ache with nostalgia.

This was like an obtuse, unwelcome breeze from the past, a repeated sorry she should’ve stopped hearing years and years ago.

It still pop up in her head, however, from time to time; when she is not careful enough, when her mind drift away in her dreams or thoughts.

A feeling of overwhelming sadness and loneliness crushed her, then; as it always did whenever she heard that same soft, sweet voice that had accompanied her since birth and even before then.

Her name was on the tip of her lips, and she would’ve spoken it if it had not been for a sudden shake that brusquely brought her back to reality.

When she opened her eyes, the first thing that welcomed her was the coldness of the window her head was leaned against.

“—five minutes. We will be arriving at Okinomiya Station. Please, makes sure to not forget any—”

She blinked a few times — chasing away the wetness that had pooled and clung to her eyelashes — then heard the faint sound of something rolling and falling on the ground. Looking down, she realized it was a pen; the one she’d been holding before she fell asleep, using it to write down in what was a small notebook. Her travel poem book, the one she brought along everywhere.

She gracefully put back some blue locks behind her ear — now short, barely sweeping her nape and shoulders, since that day she decided to cut it off twenty years ago — and scooped the pen back. When she straightened up, the white page of the notebook in front of her seemed to be burying straight into her eyes. She’d been trying to find the inspiration for what to note in there for a long time, but nothing seemed to come up. Her mind was completely dry.

She sighed, then closed off the book before putting it back into her handbag.

She didn’t have the time to write anymore, anyway.

Soon, she’d be back home — back to Hinamizawa.

By the time the train came to a stop, the nostalgic, apologetic voice in her head had entirely disappeared.

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As she stepped outside the train on the platform, she instantly put down her big luggage next to her, readjusted her pretty, big hat on her head, and stretched her arms. She felt like her whole body was cramped, as if she’d just run a marathon. Well, she did spent five hours in a train, but even so, that was something she should be used to by now. Another sigh escaped her, which was then met by a giggle from her left.

“Wow, that was a pretty big sigh. Rough trip, big sis Rika?”

Rika turned her head in surprise, and a few meters away was standing a young woman in casual slacks and blouse; short brown hair, mid-twenties, round face. The same charming smile as her father, and the same gentle amethyst eyes as her mother. When she caught her gaze, the woman waved at her, and Rika returned her smile.

“Hello, Miyuki.”

“Hi! Is that all of your luggages?”

“It is,” Rika confirmed, then stepped forward and hugged Miyuki tightly.

It had been more than a year now since she’d last seen her in person; almost two, even. Of course, they called each other from time to time, and Rika made sure to send her postal cards from wherever she was at the time, but it certainly wasn’t the same thing. She’d considered Miyuki like a little sister since that infamous Watanagashi twenty years ago and they used to meet pretty regularly until Rika went to high school, so sometimes the distance was hard to bear.

Once she let the younger woman go, her gaze wandered around, searching for further silhouettes besides Miyuki. “Um…”

“Oh, I’m sorry to tell you but I’m alone. Big sis Satoko and the others wanted to come, but they’re pretty busy with the festival preps, and Dad suddenly got a call from work which he couldn’t ignore, so…”

Rika could see Miyuki roll her eyes at that, which communicated perfectly what she thought about her father’s attitude when it came to prioritizing his work over anything else. Something she’d inherited from Yukie, no doubt. Rika smiled wryly.

“It’s okay. I’m glad to see Akasaka is still up there saving the world.”

“Oh, that he is! Mom can’t wait for him to retire. Which, unfortunately for her, he probably never will. I’m sure even beyond the grave he’ll find a way to get his job done, somehow.”

Rika laughed, and Miyuki quickly joined her as she took her luggage and they started to leave the train station. It had been quite a few years now since Akasaka had left his job as a policeman and instead started a career as a politician in Tokyo, where he thought he could do the most good. It seemed that this job was taking even more of his time than the former one, however, so Rika could not tell if it was much of an improvement for his family.

Miyuki’s car was still the same as Rika remembered; a small blue Jeep that had been a combined present from her father, Ooishi and a few others friends for when she graduated college four years ago. Truthfully, Rika thought it was kind of an ugly one and genuinely thought they could’ve done better, but Miyuki was really attached to it and she didn’t think she’d be willing to change it unless she had no other choice.

They climbed in and started chatting contentedly, quickly catching up with each other; Rika told her all about her last travel in the Netherlands, while Miyuki told her the last news at her job — and because they were both working in the same sector as journalists, they always had a lot to share (though Miyuki kept complaining about how annoying one of the guys there was— what was his name again? Ryuunosuke Arakawa or something?), before Miyuki finally kept on about how life was going with her boyfriend back in Tokyo. They’d been dating for two years now and it seemed quite serious as they’d just moved in together a few months ago, although Rika had only met him twice so she didn’t have much opinion on him. He’d gotten Akasaka’s approval though, so she supposed he must be decent guy at least.

When the conversation deviated towards the village and the festival preparations, Rika could already see the familiar landscape change as well as hear the gravel noise under the car’s wheels that marked the end of Okinomiya’s vicinity and the start of the mountains’ road.

“—and god, I also got to see little Kihiro for the first time!” Miyuki exclaimed. “Can’t believe how adorable she is.”

Rika grinned at her. “Right. You hadn’t met her yet, huh?”

“You know I haven’t been able to come last winter… But big sis Rena let me babysit her for a whole day and night last week when we first came! I’d never seen a baby so calm until now.”

Rika chuckled, but she nodded in agreement nonetheless. Of course, according to the parents, it wasn’t always the case, but when she’d come back to Hinamizawa last year for the birth, she’d definitely thought there was not a single soul who would argue on the point that Kihiro was an extremely quiet and well-behaved newborn. Rika hated babies and small children — not even Shion and Satoshi’s daughter had been an exception — but this one she actually could tolerate. Mostly.

Rena’s daughter was now already six months old. Baby Kihiro actually ended up being born later than the due date, almost two weeks later (which had worried everyone, especially Rika who hadn’t meant to stay so long), and Rika had never seen Keiichi in such a stressful state before, but in the end the child had come into this world without any complications. The poor man had probably cried a lot more than he had in his entire life the moment he held the tiny, blotchy girl in his arms.

Rika was surprised to find herself in a hurry to see that baby again, curious to how much she must’ve changed since then. Of course Rena would send pictures pretty frequently, but it wasn’t the same thing.

She was in a hurry to see everyone again.

“That’s right, how long do you intend to stay this time?” Miyuki asked, glancing at her from the corner of her eyes while holding the wheel tightly. She knew the road almost by heart by now, but she’d always been a very diligent driver, as you might expect from the daughter of an ex-policeman.

“Not long,” Rika admitted with some sadness. “Just long enough to be able to do the traditional dance, as usual. Oh and I’ll stay for Satoko’s birthday as well, of course.”

Miyuki hummed pensively, nodding briefly without leaving her gaze from the path ahead.

“You never stay long around Watanagashi’s period, huh. Sometimes it almost feel like you’re running away.”

She’d said it in a joking manner, but Rika’s shoulders tensed up instinctively, as if it was an accusation.

It was true. There was some periods where she would stay one or two months at the village, more rarely maybe even three or four, but never in June.

During the summer, she’d just assured herself to not miss Watanagashi, but stayed for only a week or two at most before quickly taking off again.

She wasn’t running away. It was just a habit she’d taken. There was no deeper meaning to this, really.

As she tried to pry those thoughts away from her mind, the scenery caught her gaze again, and she looked through the window.

Her childhood village was starting to draw itself far away, slowly coming into shapes in front of her eyes.

Her beloved hometown, the one that had been her prison for a hundred years.

They were still not there yet. They’ll have to be riding the car in the mountains for a while again.

And as they went through the deep forest…

She’d finally arrived here at their home, Hinamizawa.

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To Rika’s surprise, Miyuki parked her car right in front of the school’s grounds.

This was unusual. Ever since the past two decades, the Akasaka family had always housed in the Furude main residence, the one Rika had left ever since her parents died. This had been at Rika’s insistence, of course, disliking the idea of them sleeping at a hotel; and ever since it had basically became like the Akasakas’ secondary home. They didn’t live in the village, but Akasaka himself loved Hinamizawa and visited as often as he could with his family, even when Rika wasn’t here.

Rika loved this. She hadn’t been able to set foot inside her old house ever since her parents’ passing, but now it felt like the Akasakas had given it a new life, and she’d even taken pleasure in visiting it again whenever they were here.

So, usually, Miyuki would’ve parked her car around the house or the temple, certainly not at the school.

The young woman probably guessed her question, as she smirked at her while her eyes sparkled mischievously, and Rika frowned. Whenever Miyuki would do that ever since she was a child, it usually meant she was about to prank her. Thankfully it didn’t seem it was the case right now.

“Apparently Watanagashi is going to be particularly crowded this year,” Miyuki explained instead, her voice sounding amused. “So we decided to park our cars away from the temple to not hinder the place. Also… there are some people who wanted to see you here.”

Rika arched an eyebrow, but she didn’t get to ask anything as Miyuki then quickly unplugged her belt and jumped out of the car. Rika shook her head, sighed briefly and then imitated her.

Outside, she set her two heels on the ground, herbs gently brushing the naked skin not covered by her sandals, as if Hinamizawa’s earth was welcoming her back — but she didn’t get the time to feel nostalgic about the familiar scenery of her former school that suddenly she heard a gasp from behind her, and felt something grabbing her.

A pair of sturdy but soft arms had wrapped around her, hugging her tightly with so much love and strength that it felt almost suffocating.

“Rika! Rika, it’s you, you’re back! Hauu, you’re even cuter than last time! Even cuter! I wanna take you home!”

Her attacker was talking very quickly and excitedly, so much that anyone less familiar with her would’ve struggled to make out her words, but Rika knew her so well that she’d guessed what she would say before the sounds even left her lips.

She mildly fought to get out of the grasp, knowing prefectly that of course no one could ever get out of Rena Ryuuguu’s embrace unless she wanted it.

“Big sis Rena, I think you’re going to kill her if you keep doing this,” Miyuki, her saviour, finally intervened, and this seemed to snap Rena back to reality, as her grip ultimately released.

Rika let out a sigh, before trying to rearrange her hair, hat and dress back as it used to be.

“I’m sorry, Rika! But you’re just so kyute, I can’t help it…”

There was something a little offensive at being called ‘cute’ at the age of thirty-one years old — Rika could accept ‘beautiful’ and ‘pretty’ and ‘elegant,’ but ‘cute’ just seemed to bring her back to her eleven-years-old self, and she’d spent way too many years stuck as a child for that already, thank you very much — so she couldn’t help but puff her cheeks in a pout at this (which, she was sure, didn’t help her case on not wanting to not be called that, but that was stronger than her). However, she was just too happy to be able to see Rena again that she certainly didn’t feel like pointing any of that out.

“I’m glad to see you again, Rena,” she said, beaming at her. “You look good.”

At this, Rena’s eyes shined, and she giggled. “I do? I feel pretty tired, personally. Can’t be helped with a baby at home, I suppose.”

Upon looking closer, she did look tired. Her skin looked a little pale, her orange hair, that now fell on her shoulder, were slightly dishevelled, and some brief dark circles could be seen under her big blue eyes. But her entire being seemed to shine so much that it seemed very minimal compared to this.

“You do,” Rika said. “You look beautiful.”

And because it had been six whole months since she’d last seen her friend, she reached for her again, putting her chin on her shoulder, letting the citrus scent of her hair tickles her nostrils and wrapping her hands around her back.

Rena’s warmth was always a constant; it had been then, it was now, and Rika had no doubt that it would be in the future as well.

“Hey, hey, hey— what’d I just say, huh?! No running! No running when you’re still on school grounds!”

A shrill, masculine voice pierced the school yard; and instantly after children’s screams and laughters resonated throughout the place. Kids ranging from six to twelve years old in appearances rushed out from the building and started peppering the surrounding; some Rika recognized, like Mrs. Harada’s granddaugther or Tomita’s son or Takashima’s nephews; other were some new faces, that she guessed probably belonged to residents who recently moved in that she hadn’t gotten to meet yet.

A while ago, Hinamizawa had faced some depopulation issues, but thanks to the combined effort of the three families, Keiichi’s connections, and of course of all the villagers, they’d managed to bring in new residents even as younger generations were generally more interested in the city. It didn’t mean they were still not facing some problems about it, but at least as of now the population was stable, and with every Watanagashi seemed to grow even bigger and bigger.

“Hey! What did I just say?! You brats really only listen what you want!” The voice started again, and then the silhouette of a man surfaced out the school building, trying to calm down the group of excited children around.

Some of them stopped and looked at him apologetically, but most were perfectly fine completely ignoring him and the poor guy couldn’t rein them in as he wanted because his arms were actually full — tucked against his neck and resting on his right arm was the tiny body of a months-old baby, whose only distinguishing feature from afar was a tuft of auburn hair.

“S-Sorry, Mr. Maebara…”

“It’s not me! Suzu’s the one who screamed!”

“I didn’t, I didn’t! It was—”

“Ah! Look over there! It’s Lady Rika!”

One little girl that Rika recognized as the daughter of the village’s main grocery shopkeeper pointed a finger in her direction, and as soon as she did everyone’s looks turned towards her. By reflex, Rika smiled back, feeling instantly in her element; years of being Hinamizawa’s little queen had used her to this, and some of the kids squealed in response. Each started gasping at her presence and whispering excitedly — ‘You’re right! It’s Lady Rika!’ ‘Mom said she’d come back only in a few days!’ ‘Do you think she’d gave me a blessing if I asked her?’ — however, their enthusiasm at her presence was nothing when it came to Keiichi’s, whose face instantly beamed like the sun as soon as he saw her.

As if the children around him had completely vanished, he rushed towards Rika as fast as he could. She barely had the time to register what was happening that she heard Rena gasp and Miyuki let out a ‘oh boy’ before Keiichi’s face was right here, clearly ready to jump on her while the baby in his arms was throwing panicked and confused looks left and right.

“Keiichi!” Rena hissed like an angry cat, her voice vacillating between concerned and offended. “Kihiro! Be careful with Kihiro!”

“Wha— ahh, ah, right!”

As soon as he realized what he had done, Keiichi adjusted his grip on the child while the poor thing looked to be about to burst in tears. Rena grumbled something frustratedly, and Rika could see she was trying her best to not actively strangle him right here and now.

“C’mon— it’s fine, Rena! I wasn’t gonna let her fall, I’m not that irresponsible!”

“Then maybe don’t make it look like that next time!”

“I just wasn’t expecting to— y’know,” he turned his gaze to Rika, “—I thought you’d come later?”

Rika smiled again. “Guess my train was early, and so was Miyuki.”

“Ooh. Cool.” For a moment Keiichi appeared pensive, and then his usual, smug homey grin split his face. “Hug?”

He opened his free left arm, still making sure to tightly hold Kihiro with the other under Rena’s threatening gaze, and then Rika chuckled and instantly fell into his arms, letting herself melt in his embrace. He hugged her a little too roughly, like he always did, but it was in a manner that felt safe and warm and she would never have it any other way, trying to return it with almost as much strength.

When she stepped away, she noticed two wide, big purple eyes blinked back at hers from Keiichi’s arms. The child’s round face was looking at her questionably, as if asking who was this stranger trying to take her father away from her.

“C’mon, Kihiro,” Rena said gently. “It’s big sis Rika. You’ve met her six months ago, remember?”

“‘Course she wouldn’t remember, her lil’ head’s still too small for that,” Keiichi replied playfully while tapping the top of the baby’s skull, as if making a point.

And he wasn’t wrong, Rika supposed. She hadn’t even spent a lot of time with the newborn back in December, and left four days after the birth, so that only made sense. She took a step forward and leaned towards the little girl.

“Hello. I’m big sis Rika. Nice to meet you again, Kihiro.”

The small thing seemed to analyse her words slowly, and then let out some little chirping noise. Keiichi grinned again, then extended his arms with the child in them towards Rika. Her smile dropped from her face immediately and she frowned.

“No,” she said, firmly.

“C’mon, look at her,” the man argued, pressing the little baby almost to her face. “Isn’t she absolutely so kyute? She’s your niece too, Aunt Rika, so you get to hold her once in a while!”

“You know that I hate— Ah, Keiichi!”

Her friend didn’t let her finish her sentence that he pushed his daughter into her arms, and Rika struggled to quickly grab the girl awkwardly — she hated holding babies, but she wasn’t an absolutely monster who’d let her fall on the ground either. (Even if it was tempting and that Keiichi would totally deserve it if she did.)

“Damn it, I swear—” She started, but then she caught Rena’s disapproving gaze at her use of language and quickly bit her tongue, giving up and trying to hold the tiny child as best as she could. They hadn’t done this to her since Shion’s daughter had been a baby years ago.

“You need to be more careful with the head, Rika,” Rena then said gently as she fixed Rika’s hold on her daughter. “See, just like that! Haauu, you two are so kyute like that! Miyuki, Miyuki, do you have your phone? Take a photo!”

“Oh… right, right, just a minute!”

“Wh— No, don’t! Hey! Ugh…”

Rika sighed as Miyuki whipped out her phone and Keiichi and Rena laughed with their whole chests. Kihiro, meanwhile, appeared a little upset at leaving her dad’s side, but ultimately quickly made herself comfortable on Rika’s chest. Damn all of them.

She’d always found babies and young children annoying. They were too noisy, too energetic, didn’t make sense; Rika never knew how to interact properly with them and honestly preferred avoiding them as much as possible. She could make exceptions for her nieces, sure , but it generally extended to smiling at them and giving them presents sometimes ; she’d never be caught alive willingly playing with them or hugging them. Unfortunately, it seemed the rest of the club members had not taken the memo and instead were having a lot of fun at her expense by often putting her into situations where she got stuck with the kids.

“That’s cool you got here early, but sadly I still have some stuff I need to wrap up at the school,” Keiichi said after his laughters calmed down. “Ms. Chie’s really counting on me for this. And afterwards I still have work to do at the temple for the festival preps.”

“I only came here with Kihiro to bring him some stuff,” Rena explained. “I was going to go at the temple afterwards to help out. Mii and Shii are still there talking about this year’s Watanagashi’s organization.”

“I bet they are. I’m surprised you were able to not go, Keiichi. Trying to skip some of your mayor duties, hmm?”

Rika smirked at him teasingly, and Keiichi winced.

“C’mon, gimme a break! Mion was already mad at me for not coming, but I’m a teacher too, so I can’t be everywhere at all times!”

She laughed, while Keiichi grumpily murmured under his breath about how hard it was to be so popular.

“What about you, Rika? Wanna come with me? Wanna come?” Rena then questioned.

Rika readjusted the baby in her arms, then shook her head.

“I need to drop off my luggages at home first… Is anyone there currently?”

“I know Big sis Satoko had to go there at some point, so she should be here by now already,” Miyuki replied.

Satoko’s name instinctively put a smile on Rika’s face. It was close to noon, so she imagined she must be cooking by now.

It had been a long time since she’d last tasted Satoko’s cooking.

“Then I’ll go home now. I’ll probably come at the temple to see Mii and Shii after that.”

“It’d be great!” Rena exclaimed, clapping her hands. “Oh, right! Rika, we’d planned to all go eat dinner at the Maebaras’ place tonight! To celebrate being all together again.”

“…That sounds nice. But won’t it bother Aiko and Ichirou?”

“Nope! Mom told me they’ll go out to eat at a restaurant in Okinomiya, so we have the house all to ourselves,” Keiichi added, then grinned at everyone as if to confirm all of them were in, at which he was greeted by an enthusiastic nod.

“Maebara! Are you there?” A woman’s voice resonated from inside the school. “I need you right now!”

“Ah… Coming right away, Ms. Chie!” Keiichi yelled back. “Sorry guys, duty’s callin’. See ya later, yeah?”

Rika acquiesced, and she was she was about to add something when a woman suddenly got out of the school’s building. She seemed to stop in surprise at seeing their little group, before quickly snapping back to reality and rejoining them.

“My, Miss Furude! That’s nice to see you.”

“Her train got here earlier than planned!” Rena explained helpfully.

“Oh, I see…”

Chie then smiled with fondness at Rika; that kind of expression that she only reserved to her old students. Rumiko Chie had practically not changed at all; she barely had a wrinkle, her short blue hair was still the exact same, and even her clothes kept being very similar to what she’d always worn. It was like she was frozen in time, and the only big difference in her status was that since Kaieda had retired she’d became the new director of the school, although unlike him she still teaches some classes here and there. And, according to Keiichi who now worked under her, she was a surprisingly strict boss.

Although Rika was never able to get used to it. To her, Ms. Chie would always be Ms. Chie, Hinamizawa’s primary school teacher.

“I’m very sorry to bother you when you’re with your friends, Maebara, but—”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, Ms. Chie. Work’s work.” Keiichi leaned towards Rika, ruffled her hair and then kissed his daughter on the head, before finally starting to leave along with Chie all while waving at them. “Bye, bye, guys! Be good!”

“…We should go too,” Rika then added once the two of them disappeared inside the school. “Miyuki?”

“Ah… well, actually, I have to go with big sis Rena. I promised that I’d help for the preparations too, so…”

“…I see. How dutiful for someone who’s not even a villager,” Rika said teasingly, but trustfully by this point the Akasakas had pretty much became secondary Hinamizawans. Then she looked down at the baby girl who was still resting on her shoulder. “Looks like I have to give you back to your mother. I’ll see you later as well.”

“If she doesn’t fall asleep before then,” Rena added as she reached out to gather her daughter back in her arms.

Rika chuckled, then booped Kihiro’s little nose.

The child scrunched her face, and fine , maybe, just maybe she could agree she was cute. Just a little bit.

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It felt almost like the herbs were getting thicker and longer.

That was her first sensation as she was getting closer to her house; the little shack right next to the Furude family’s main residence.

That seemed odd even to her ears, because surely there was no reason for the herbs to get thicker over time — longer was a possibility though, but she knew usually the Kimiyoshis made a point to take care of it and cut them off so that it never get too out of control.

Although, to be honest, none of them truly adventured too far away from the main residence like over here — that place had always been her and Satoko’s sanctuary, and probably always would be.

Nostalgia overwhelmed her as she kept walking, her big luggage trailing behind her, and for a moment, if she closed her eyes, she could even feel like a little girl again; wearing her dark suspender and pleated skirt uniform, long blue hair flying behind her back and her best friend’s hand grasped tightly in hers on their way to school.

The road had never changed since then, but it still felt incredibly different at the same time, which gave the place some sort of extreme uncanny feeling that started to eat away at her.

She shook away the thought as she finally reached the shack’s entrance, and reached out to the door — which was open.

“Satoko? Are you there?”

As soon as she set foot inside, a sweet flavour tickled her nose; something simple, like a mix of salmon and rice and soy sauce, but that was delicate and warm and cosy; a flavour that would always feel like home and like Satoko, and Rika smiled, because that was it.

She was finally home; her real home.

“Satoko! I’m back!” She exclaimed as she dropped off her luggage in a corner of the room and headed towards the kitchen.

As she’d expected, a soft humming greeted her before any person; and there, amidst the frizzing of the pan and the smell of the food, she saw a woman’s silhouette, blond hair, and a back wearing a green blouse and jeans.

Manifestly, she hadn’t heard her.

A mischievous grin stretched Rika’s lips; and all while being as quiet as a cat, she slowly stepped towards her friend. She stopped right behind Satoko, the other woman continuing to hum without a care in the world, and with a precise hit that spoke of years of experience, Rika reached out and pinched each of her childhood friend’s flanks.

A high-pitched shriek resonated throughout their small kitchen, followed by a spoon clattering on the ground with a thud, and then glaring, angry magenta eyes pierced her, full of anger.

“R-Rika!” Satoko hissed, her voice still trapped between fury and shock.

Rika simply smiled back at her innocently.

“Mii! Hello, Satoko. Nice to see you! It smells absolutely de-li-cious!”

She leaned towards the frizzing pan to check out and smell its content as Satoko appeared to do everything in her power to try not to murder her with her own two hands right on the spot.

“Do you realize I could’ve burned myself?! Or completely fail my dish?!”

“Sheesh, of course you wouldn’t have! You’re too skilled of a cook for that now.”

“Being skilled doesn’t matter when someone mess with you on purpos— Hey! Stop! Don’t put your fingers in there, and don’t eat this before it’s time!”

Rika laughed heartily, then swiftly avoided Satoko’s hand trying to grab her as she started to lick the cream she’d just scooped up from the bowl on the table off of her finger. Before her friend got to scold her for her childish and bad manners, she jumped at her, wrapping her arms around her neck tightly.

Citrus, salmon, oil swept her nostrils, and a small, strong heart beat against her own; all of them grounding and all of them belonging to Satoko only.

“C’mon, don’t be mad,” she whispered warmly in her ear. “You know I just cannot resist your charms, you’re simply way too cute!”

And then she kissed her cheek, and jumped away before the other woman got the time to say anything. She didn’t need to see her face to know how red it must be, as it always was whenever Rika did something like that, and satisfied with herself, she simply hopped away towards the living room. She heard Satoko grumbles something like ‘you’re unbelievable’ behind her back, but the fondness in her voice was unmistakable and it made Rika’s smile widen. She stopped curiously when she reached the table however, noticing that it was already all set up; three porcelain plates, chopsticks and glasses resting properly aligned on the wooden surface.

“Oh? Were you expecting guests?”

“Nii-nii and Saki should come eat here any minutes now,” came Satoko’s explanation as she entered the room, her hands full of side dishes. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to eat with us.”

“My train was early,” Rika replied as she sat a the table. “But it’s okay, don’t worry. Although…”

She lifted her head as Satoko took place in front of her and threw her a confusing gaze.

“I am a little sad to not have Satoko aaall to myself when we haven’t seen each other for so long, mii!”

As expected, Satoko instantly flushed red and threw a towel in retaliation, which only managed to makes Rika laughs loudly. “D-Don’t be ridiculous, Rika!”

I’m not, Rika almost argued. She’d been joking, sure, but there was in fact a genuine part of her who was a little disappointed to not get a moment with Satoko alone. She couldn’t exactly admit it out loud without ending up being the one being teased about it, though.

Satoko sighed, shook her head exasperatedly, then finally let a real, adorable smile brighten her face.

She was so pretty, looking at her that way. Rika had truly missed her.

“Well, I am glad to see you again despite this. How are you? How was your trip?”

“Boring. You know I can’t manage to focus on anything during travels by train, not even reading. I did try to write a little, but…”

Her voice trailed, and she looked away. She could feel more than see Satoko’s eyes narrow at her, filling with suspicion.

“But?”

“Nothing. It’s not important,” Rika waved away, and before Satoko could argue or press her any further, she added: “What about you, then? Everything’s okay at work?”

Satoko clearly seemed to hesitate, but finally decided to go Rika’s way and nodded. “Like usual. Things have been a bit busy since I’ve started helping that transport engineering project with Keiichi and Mion, though. You know? The one I’ve told you about?”

Rika hummed in agreement, but admittedly she still didn’t know much about this ‘project’ of them. She’d only heard the vague outline; something about wanting to improve the transportation in the region, specifically around the more isolated villages, and thanks to Keiichi with his newfound work in the community’s politics and Satoko’s mechanical engineering degree, both of them had enthusiastically started to help out. Satoko’s specialization was mechatronics, but she was surprisingly very skilled and knowledgeable in vehicle and structural engineering (and had even just starting studying computer engineering as well), so it felt only natural that she’d be the most competent person around to take part in this plan even alongside her main freelance job.

Maybe Rika stayed quiet for a little too long, because then Satoko started to give her that look again; the one she had whenever she got worried about her and suspected she was hiding something and tried to extirpate it from her head — which was stupid, because Rika was not hiding anything from her currently.

It’d been two decades now since Rika had made actual efforts not to hide important things or any problems from Satoko and the rest of the club, and, most of the time, she was pretty successful at it.

Most of the time.

“Rika—”

“Sooo, what have you cooked for lunch? I haven’t eaten your cooking for a while, so I’m really looking forward to it!”

“I haven’t cooked anything for you!” Satoko replied curtly, and the glint in her gaze told Rika she hadn’t missed the way she’d abruptly changed the topic. “As I said, I wasn’t expecting you this early. Be grateful if there’s even enough to fill your plate at all.”

“How mean,” Rika whimpered in a false-hurt voice. “Ah, by the way, I’ve learnt a new recipe that I absolutely need to teach you.”

“Oh?”

“Something from my new Dutch friend I told you about — you know, Annika?”

“The boat girl,” Satoko recognized before nodding.

“The very one. Well, she showed me this dish with potatoes and salmon and cream — it’s absolutely delicious! I’m sure you’ll love it, I have to—”

“Aunt Rika?!”

Rika startled in surprise, and turning her head she finally caught sight of a little girl with blonde pigtails, of a lighter colour than Satoko’s, staring at her with shocked, clear green eyes. The shock faded away quickly, though, and then morphed into a glare as she crossed her arms in a way that probably was meant to come across as annoyed, but because of how small she was it only looked cute. Rena would be disappointed to know she missed this.

“Why’s Aunt Rika here?” The child whined in an irritated tone, and Rika had to repeat to herself She’s barely six, don’t get mad, you’re the adult here in her mind before replying.

“Just as cute as her ever, Saki. And don’t call me ‘aunt,’ it’s ‘big sis’ or nothing.”

“I thought Aunt Rika wouldn’t come until later!”

“Sakiko,” Satoko said firmly. “That’s enough. You don’t talk to adults with that tone and you know it. That’s rude.”

Rika sighed, looking at her friend getting into Mom Mode and scolding her niece as if she was her own; which instantly worked, as the girl was never able to argue back when Satoko was the one reprimanding her.

Sakiko was a good kid, but she could have a bit of a bad character at times and for some reason tended to be a bit prickly towards Rika. Maybe because she loved Satoko like a second mother and didn’t like when she didn’t have her full attention. Which was also probably the reason behind her acerb mood at the moment.

Well, Satoko was mine first, so I won’t apologize to borrow her now, Rika almost said pettily before reminding herself that picking a fight with a kid who hadn’t even started 1rst grade was, in fact, a bit ridiculous.

“Saki!” A gentle but firm masculine voice suddenly came from behind her. “Come on, Saki. What did I told you about running away ahead of me like that without warning?”

“You were too slow, Daddy!” The girl immediately argued as her father finally came into view, dishevelled blond hair falling into his face and tired eyes of the same colour as his sister’s scanning the room.

He didn’t look as exhausted as Rena, but it still seemed close. Though Rika couldn’t tell if it was because of his energetic daughter or because it had been a busy morning at the café that he and Shion owned in Okinomiya.

“Ah… Hello, Rika,” the man said when he realized her presence, which took him way too much time, and he smiled at her. “It’s nice to see you. You’re early, aren’t you?”

Rika nodded, smiling back but too lazy to have to explain yet again why she was here at least too hours before what had been planned. “I would have missed Satoko’s cooking for nothing in the world! Nipah!”

“You keep missing it ‘cause you’re always away,” Sakiko replied, and Satoko seemed to be about to scold her again when Rika simply grinned and crossed her arms.

“Harsh words for a kid who don’t seem to have grown up at all in six months.”

Sakiko flushed red. “I’ve grown up! I’m five… uhh… six…”

“34.5’’,” her Satoshi helped, patting Rika’s head as a sign of greeting just like he did so often since they were kids while sitting at the table next to his sister.

“Well in any case, that’s what I said; you haven’t grown up in the slightest. Actually, haven’t you shrunk?”

Sakiko’s face crumpled at her remark. Ever since she’d learned she was smaller than most kids her age it had became a sour spot for her, and Rika couldn’t help but laugh (and, alright, maybe she wasn’t very good at being the mature one, but who would blame her?). Until she felt a small fist colliding with her stomach.

“Hey, Saki!” Satoshi instantly exclaimed, distraught. “You can’t hit people!”

“Aunt Rika was being mean!”

“It’s fine, it was barely a hit at all,” Rika intervened. “You should hit harder, kid, or you’ll go nowhere in life.”

“Right, let her be, Nii-nii. Rika deserved that one.”

“See?” Sakiko exclaimed proudly. “Mama Satoko agrees with me!”

“You two, please don’t encourage her…”

Sakiko pulled her tongue out at Rika, then immediately ran off towards Satoko, sitting on her lap and hiding her head into her chest like a small animal, which only made Rika grin. Satoko smiled in turn and kissed the top of Sakiko’s head while rubbing circles into her back tenderly.

Somehow, it reminded Rika of how Satoko used to run off and hide behind her big brother’s back whenever she felt upset as a child — or behind her, for that matter, after Satoshi disappeared. Satoko and Sakiko had very different personalities, and the latter generally tended to take after Shion’s fierce character, but they suddenly felt very similar, looking at it this way. Except for the fact Satoko would have cried her eyes out like the crybaby she used to be, while Sakiko was only glaring at Rika like she was about to jump on her and claw her eyes out. It was cute.

“So where is your mommy, Saki?” Rika ended up asking, without being able to prevent her voice taking on a teasing edge.

“Not tellin’!” The child mumbled, her face still pressed into her aunt’s chest, and Satoshi rolled his eyes.

“She was still arguing with Mion and Akane, last I checked,” he replied instead, which only made Rika laugh again.

“Guess some things never change,” she let out before thinking her words, but then it made her pause.

Because that wasn’t really true.

Even the things that seemed like they hadn’t ‘changed’ were still widely disparate from how they used to be.

Everything was different now; every day trickled forward mercilessly, bearing no similarity the to the precedent — and with them, bringing a new wrinkle to each inch of Rika’s skin.

Everything kept on evolving ever since that day twenty years ago where Rika broke free of her endless cursed summer of death, and with it came along a desperately hopeful and dreadful feeling that overwhelmed her each time the sun rose up.

______________________________________________________________

It was pretty incredible how much the festival preparations were already bustling so early on.

Back when Rika was a child, or even only ten years ago, they would just only be starting to prepare for it at this time; but now most of the booths were already set up and people were running left and right, arguing back and forth. Watanagashi had come to be a huge deal nowadays, especially with the village beginning to become such an attractive tourist place, and it made her feel a bit dizzy.

Sometimes, she missed when Hinamizawa wasn’t as busy and popular. When it was just her and her handful of friends playing around amidst the paddy fields and the forest’s trees without bumping into anyone, even less so into strangers who only came here to appreciate the landscape.

“Ooh, Lady Rika! You’re back!”

As she entered the temple’s grounds, she was stopped in her walk by at least the tenth person since she’d came here, and this time it was by a man she hadn’t seen since almost a year. Satoko, Satoshi and Sakiko all stopped as well, nodding as a sign of greeting to the man — Kiichirou Kimiyoshi’s first son, Hiromune.

It would be nine years now since the old Kimiyoshi had unfortunately passed away, and although Keiichi had been the new mayor for quite some years, the Kimiyoshis still held a lot of influence in the region so he had preserved a pretty important place within the village’s hierarchy.

Although, truthfully, most people considered that the village’s old hierarchy had completely died along with Hinamizawa’s empress, Oryou, who despite her bad health had clung to life until six years ago. Irie had said it had practically been a miracle she stayed with them so long all while being mostly lucid.

Rika could still remember the funerals pretty vividly, as it had been the first she’d been to one where she actually felt like crying.

She had complicated feelings for the old woman because of all the harm she’d done to the Houjous, but she still had been a part of her life since her birth and had been like a grandmother to her.

She still hadn’t cried, though.

“It’s so nice to have you back! You’re as beautiful as ever,” the man continued, and Rika smiled back at him gratefully.

“Thank you. That’s good to see you too, Hiromune. Are the rest of the family well?”

“Of course!” He laughed. “Kisaku’s just starting his own business, and my niece Kazuho just graduated college. Things are looking pretty well for them.”

“Are Shion and Mion here?” Satoshi asked, smiled softly as the rest of the Houjous stood behind him, Sakiko’s arms firmly wrapped around Satoko’s neck while she held her.

Hiromune nodded, then pointed at the temple as he explained “they were still arguing in there,” and Satoshi thanked him.

Sometimes, an old form of wariness wormed its way into Rika’s guts when she watched the older villagers like Hiromune interact with the Houjous. The discrimination their family had suffered were non-existent at present, especially since their generation were now well into adulthood, but Rika had never let go of her grudges easily and it was hard to forget how those people had treated children like Satoko and Satoshi.

She didn’t think she was the only one either, because for as much as the Houjou siblings had good relationships with most everyone in the village now, she could still sometimes discern Satoko’s shoulders tense in expectation or see Satoshi’s features stretch with anxiety by instinct.

She’d caught little Sakiko glares at the elders for no reason from times to times, too. No one had ever said a word at the little girl about what had happened or about Oyashiro’s curse, but it seemed she could just feel there was an ugly history hidden behind.

A hand suddenly gripped her shoulder, and when she looked up Satoko smiled at her, as if she’d just read her thoughts and tried to reassures her. Which was silly, because there was nothing to reassure Rika from — and usually, it was her job to do so.

Her feelings eased up as soon as Hiromune turned away, and the four of them finally headed towards the temple. A dozen of people were inside, for what had probably been a meeting at first but now looked to be more of an intense verbal fight between the two most iconic twins of the entire region.

“I told you this would not work! See — you never listen to me, Sis, and now look what happened!”

“You can’t know without trying! And we still don’t have all the results—”

“What more do you need?! For the festival to be a complete failure with all of our stocks being insufficient?!”

As the two sisters were hurling insults at each other, both standing on each side of the long table, Rika noticed Akane sat in the background with the most exhausted expression she’d ever seen, while she heard a ‘oh dear’ escape Satoko from behind her.

The only one completely unbothered by the situation seemed to be Sakiko, who sneaked away from her aunt’s arms and ran right into the middle of the fight.

“Mommy!” She exclaimed, and instantly, almost in a comical way, both Shion and Mion snapped out of the argument and looked down towards the tiny child who trotted over and jumped into her mother’s arms without any warnings, almost making her fall over.

“Whoa! Hey there, Saki— Hey!”

As Shion struggled to reception her daughter, both Akane and Mion seemed to notice the rest of the group, and particularly Rika; upon Mion’s face brightened, all tension disappearing right away as if it had never existed.

“Hey, lookit who’s here! The biggest star of the village finally makes her entrance!” She said before immediately closing the distance and wrapping her arms around Rika.

While Rika never refused her friends’ physical affection, she had to admit the most annoying part of coming back to Hinamizawa after awhile was all the embraces she had to go through each times; but of course she couldn’t actually complain about this without coming across as a jerk, so she simply hugged back her oldest friend quietly.

“I’m glad to see you back,” Akane declared, and it seemed there was an implicit ‘Thank you for saving us from this’ hidden somewhere in her words.

Rika nodded in a sympathetic way, and then suddenly it really hit her just how tired and old Akane looked.

The Demon Princess of Shishibone was usually known of her implacable force of character, but here only a couple of hours of meeting and a fight between her daughters seemed to have tired her to the bone. Of course, Rika was well-aware that Akane was now almost in her sixties, but it still was an odd thing to wrap her mind around, and an odd feeling twisted her stomach.

“Ohh, so you’re finally here!” Rika heard another voice from behind her, and Rena then showed up along with Miyuki who was holding Kihiro in her arms.

“Rena! You’ve been here since a while? Where’s Kei?! I told him I wanted him to be here!” Mion instantly fulminated, a frown back on her face.

Rena smiled at her in an apologetic way, clapping her hands together.

“Sorry, Mii! He got very busy at school— but he said he’ll do his best to wrap up everything as quickly as he could.”

Mion groaned. “How comes he always does this?! He’s the mayor ! He can’t just go around skipping meetings about his village!”

“Don’t be mad, Mii,” Rika said nonchalantly. “Keiichi always does his best by the village even when he skips meetings.”

“I know that, but that still doesn’t make this okay.”

“That’s also rich to hear this from you, Rika,” Shion added as she rejoined the group, daughter in arms. “You’re always skipping meetings to run around the world, and you’re one of the heads of the three families.”

Rika smiled smugly. “Hinamizawa doesn’t need the three families anymore. It functions perfectly well without them.”

That was something she genuinely believed in, too. After Miyo Takano’s defeat, all of them had worked hard together with the villagers to make Hinamizawa a more open, modern place, and that had included getting rid of some of its outdated heritage like the village’s hierarchy and the three families. At some point as an adult, Mion had revoked her rights as the head of the Sonozakis and put into place a way that didn’t make the village as dependant on that system anymore, ultimately leading her to take back her uncle’s job as the owner of Okinomiya’s toys shop.

So of course, all of this was perfect for Rika as she now had very little responsibility towards the village as a Furude, but Hinamizawa slowly detaching itself from too old traditional staples that had stopped being relevant long ago was great for everyone in the end. Now even someone who was originally an outsider like Keiichi could take important decisions within the community, newcomers and tourists alike came more and more every year, and the village kept developing and evolving in positive manners.

A couple years ago, Rika had even started to accept teaching young girls about the traditional dance of Watanagashi as well as the customs of the Oyashiro priestesses; so that maybe one of them would succeed her eventually, even though up until now it had only been something reserved to the Furude women.

She was sure that Oyashiro — that Hanyuu was proud.

“Still sounds like an excuse to skip out to me,” Shion added, arching an eyebrow, and Rika grinned at her.

“Always a critic. I’m glad to see you missed me too, Shii.”

“Now, now, let’s not fight any more for tonight guys, shall we?” Satoko intervened, clapping her hands in an authoritative manner.

“Right! We still have a lot of work to help out with the festival prep,” Rena agreed. “And now that you’re here, Rika, you’ll help out too, right?”

“Uh… well, that is to said—”

“Of course she’ll help out,” Mion said, grinning viciously as she put both of her hands on Rika’s shoulders. “She can’t escape this. You don’t even have any training for the dance planned today.”

Rika sighed. “That’s mean. Even though I only just arrived after a long trip in train…”

“Pssh. You’ve had plenty time to recuperate, Rika! Stop being lazy! You’re setting up a bad example for the kids.”

Rika groaned, knowing that if even Satoko was getting on her case she truly wouldn’t be able to escape this, which made a few club members giggles.

It was still only the start of the afternoon, the sun peeking out in the sky warmly, but Rika knew it would be a long one.

______________________________________________________________

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?”

“Yes, I’m sure. It’s very nice of you, but we actually have things planned already tonight. Plus, I think it’d be better to leave you all together, right? Even Mr. and Mrs. Maebara left you the house specifically for that.”

“Well, that’s true, but…”

Rika couldn’t continue as Miyuki opened the door of the main Furude residence, and they stepped inside together. Just like every time she would came here, a big wave of nostalgia overwhelmed her and she took a deep breath.

The house was still the same as when she was a child. The walls, the rooms, some of the furniture. She could still remember pretty vividly the way she used to run around in the corridor, how she would cook with her mom in the kitchen or pester her dad on the porch to let her drink his wine.

It felt like an eternity ago, and at the same time, so close in time; a family life lost and meddled within thousands of thousands of different loops and memories.

When she entered the living room, however, instead of her parents sitting at the table was the Akasaka couple — Mamoru was just about to fill Yukie’s glass with water as their daughter enthusiastically waved at them.

“Hey! Dad, Mom, big sis Rika’s finally here!”

Both of them lifted their heads towards the newcomers, and as everyone before them, their faces brightened upon recognizing Rika. In Akasaka’s case, however, something warmer, softer stretched his features; a gentle smile and a fondness unique to him coloured his eyes as he fixed his eyes to her.

“Rika,” he greeted, his voice as deep and smooth as usual when he spoke to her. “You look good.”

It was a much simpler welcome compared to all those that she’d received up until now, but it somehow managed to make her heart fill with warmth a lot more than any of the others. Without even thinking about it, she headed in his direction, wrapped her arms around him and melted into his embrace. His strong arms enveloped her body and strongly hugged her in return, kissing the top of her head as she buried her face into his shoulder.

Her friends’ arms had always been home, but she had never felt as safe as when she was in Akasaka and Hanyuu’s embrace; as if nothing in the world could touch her as long as they were here, protecting her from everything.

An odd feeling of grief tightened her throat a little as she was briefly reminded of her own father’s hugs; and it made her feel odd, that even after all these years, she was still able to get that familiar ache in her chest.

She used to think she had become completely desensitized to those kinds of emotions after her decades of decay within the loops.

Maybe those past years of normal life had managed to get her back some of her humanity.

With some reluctance, she finally let go of Akasaka and pulled away, smiling back at him.

“We’re so glad to finally see you again,” Yukie then said with her innate motherly tone.

“For once, I didn’t even had to wait!” Miyuki added cheerfully as she took place at the table.

“Come on, Miyuki, don’t be rude. And you could at least make the effort to serve some tea to the guest.”

“Technically, we’re the guests, as this is her house,” her daughter pointed out. “Also, I’ve spent the entire afternoon running around. She’ll survive.”

Rika gently elbowed her in the sides, frowning, but Miyuki only chuckled and her mother sighed in fond exasperation.

“I was just proposing to Miyuki that you should come over to eat dinner with us at Keiichi’s house. But I guess it might be better for some of you to not come, after all, huh,” Rika said, side-eyeing Miyuki.

“Oh, right. I’ve heard from Rena about this,” Akasaka replied. “Sadly, we already have plans tonight. Ooishi is meant to come over to eat with us.”

“Oh? First I hear about this. I didn’t even know he was in town.”

“He is. It’s been twenty years since the curse’s case has been resolved, so he thought he’d like to come as… a way to commemorate this, I suppose.”

Yukie sighed. “Honestly, I kept telling him it would be best for him to stay in Sapporo. He’s not young anymore, and moving around like that is not good for his health.”

“Don’t worry, Yukie. He wouldn’t have come if this truly was too much for him,” her husband responded levelly.

“True!” Miyuki interjected. “Uncle Kura is as tenacious as a cockroach, no way a little trip’s gonna beat him.”

Ooishi had moved to Sapporo with his mother shortly after they’d solved the case about Oyashiro’s curse. Having received closure regarding his old friend’s death, there was nothing that tied him to the village anymore so he had finally decided to retire. Rika rarely got the occasion to see him afterwards, and most of the news she heard were thanks to Akasaka, but apparently it seemed he was living a peaceful, fulfilling life. She had thought that after everything that had happened he would’ve rather cut all ties with Hinamizawa, but sometimes every few years he dropped by at the village, and according to Akasaka he always asked about ‘the kids’ here whenever they talked to each other. Even though Rika and the others hadn’t been ‘kids’ in a long time.

Still, just like Akane, he had gotten quite old now as well. Even for how much of a ‘cockroach’ he was, it wouldn’t be surprising if in a handful of years he were to leave them.

Just like Kiichirou and Oryou had.

Just like Akane eventually would in a couple of decades, too.

In the corner of her eyes, Rika caught sight of an altar with her parents’ photo resting on top of it. It was something Yukie had made for her years ago when she had told her once that she’d never done this for them, and ever since she would always keep it well-maintened every time she’d came.

Her mother and father’s eyes from the frozen picture seemed scathingly burning all of a sudden, and Rika felt heavy, like the weight of the world and of the past twenty years had just fell upon her shoulders.

Her breath caught in her throat, and she almost felt like she was starting to suffocate— until a large, warm hand settled on her arm, and she lifted her eyes to meet Akasaka’s concerned eyes.

“Is everything all right?” He asked gently, and Rika smiled, not wanting to worry him.

And she was all right. Really.

She was home, with her family, for the first time in months; Watanagashi was just around the corner; everyone was well and alive and were leading fulfilling, promising lives filled with hope.

There was nothing bad about any of this. This was good — great, even.

Everyone has a right to pursue a happy life.

The difficult part is to be given that right—

“I’m okay,” Rika said, attempting to widen her smile.

Hoping it felt more genuine that she felt.

Akasaka didn’t seem to believe her entirely, just like Miyuki and Yukie probably, but she didn’t feel like looking at them right now so she wouldn’t.

“I’m glad to be there with you,” she then added, and it was true. It was. “I missed you.”

Akasaka smiled. “I missed you too. I…” He seemed to hesitate. “I’m sure you know that by now, but, I’m always here for you if you need it. Even if it’s just to talk. You’re like a daughter to me, so please don’t hesitate to come to me for help. To us,” he added pointedly, looking at his wife and daughter, whom Rika could see nodding right away at his words.

She smiled, stared at Miyuki, then Yukie, then finally the man who had became her second father in the last twenty, twenty-five, one hundred twenty-five last years.

“I know.”

______________________________________________________________

The Maebara house, or Maebara Mansion as most everyone in the village still called it, had known a few different works throughout the years — Ichirou had made some big new layouts in his workshop, Aiko had redecorated the kitchen and living room at least twice — but even so the feeling of cosiness and warmness that Rika had always associated with it persisted, and she loved coming back to it almost as much as to her and Satoko’s place.

“And here it is! Rena Ryuuguu’s Special Katsudon! The most unique and tasty that you’ll ever eat in the entirety of Japan! There is no one who can cook deep-fried pork cutlet, eggs or vegetables the way Miss Ryuuguu does!”

All while finishing his speech very theatrically, Keiichi disposed the plates on the table as everyone were awed at the dish’s presentation and mouth-watering odour that filled the room. Only Rena appeared flustered about the over-the-top praises and threw him a reprimanding look.

“K-Keiichi, I told you to stop doing things like that! It’s not anything special… I wanted to actually cook something more complicated, but…”

“Gah, don’t be silly, Rena!” Mion interrupted. “Kei’s right, absolutely no one can cook like you, even your simplest dishes are delicious! Not even Grandma rivalled you.”

“That’s very true,” Satoshi added. “Stop putting you down.”

“Being modest is not cute at all anymore,” his sister agreed, and poor Rena could only melt in her seat, completely red and defeated.

“So, as I was saying!” Keiichi resumed. “This is Rena Ryuuguu’s Special Katsudon, cooked with love by delicate fingers and accompanied with tonkatsu sauce—”

“Who cares!” The youngest of the table, Sakiko, suddenly cut off her uncle with a grumpy face. “I’m hungry! Let’s eat!”

Truthfully, the poor girl had been waiting more than an hour before they actually started digging into the dinner, so Rika couldn’t blame her eagerness. At least Kihiro had gotten baby privilege, eating early on and then now sleeping peacefully in her room; but Sakiko and her five years of age had to wait at the table like the adults.

“Saki!” Satoko exclaimed, using her best Angry Mom Voice. “Don’t interrupt your uncle like that. Apologize.”

“It’s fine, Satoko,” Shion intervened. “It’s just Kei, and Saki’s right; we should start eating instead of monologuing!”

“N-Nee-nee! You can’t say that, you need to set the example for her—”

“Geez! It’s a party tonight, no need to be so serious!” Shion grabbed Satoko’s cheek and pulled on it, while Satoshi simply shook his head, but he looked more amused than anything.

“No, no, you’re very right, young lady,” Keiichi added finally, winking at Sakiko, whose bad mood seemed to be wiped out instantly and giggled at the man’s antics. “It’s a lot ruder to simply stare at all this marvellous food and not touch it!”

“Well spoken, Soldier Maebara!” Mion exclaimed in turn, raising from her seat and clicking her chopsticks on her glass. “All Club Members! No one are allowed to even leave one crumb of Rena Ryuuguu’s Special Katsudon! Am I being clear?!”

A thundering ‘Yeaaah!’ resonated throughout the Maebara Mansion’s living room, and the club’s game president smiled smugly.

“All right! In that case, let’s dig in in one… two… three!”

“Fight, on!” Rika added.

And everyone did as they were told; although Sakiko actually started eating before Mion finished the countdown, ignoring Satoko’s reprobating look.

Of course, Rena’s katsudon was absolutely delicious. Everyone devoured all of it, as well as the sweets that had came from the neighbourhood’s ladies, and by the time Sakiko started to get grumpy because of the fatigue and her father had to bring her to bed Mion had already brought out a Jenga game to begin their first proper club game tournament in a long time.

This was the same type of intense challenge Rika was used to — has been used to for decades and decades — and she smiled and laughed and teased as much as the others, played at heart’s content, enjoyed every single minute of the adrenaline the rush of the club’s events always procured.

It was as it always was, as it always should be — similar, but still never the same as what she’d been used to in her century-trapped loop.

But then, in a way, it also felt… a bit off.

And Rika started to get that odd feeling of disconnection she felt, from times to times, when the world kept on turning but she alone seemed stuck in a small bubble of time separated from the rest.

Just like when she used to be held captive in a hundred years chessboard game while everyone around her was blissfully unaware.

The world kept turning, her loved ones kept laughing, but only she was detached, floating around, untethered.

As Rena, Shion and Mion were starting the final round, Rika discretely rose from her seat.

With all the grace of a feline and a glass of wine in hand, she went outside the house and closed the door behind her. The summer night was cold, a frail breeze brushing her face and hair, and she took a long breath.

It felt nice, like a way to ground her back in the present. She raised her eyes towards the sky, then took a sip of wine. It was one element to their club activities that had gotten naturally added after all of them turned twenty-one — alcohol. Of course some of them, most notably Satoko and Rena, had not been fond of the concept and actively discouraged the idea to use it in games, but it was still something that ended up being put in to spice things up, especially when it came to late-night games like now.

Although of course, whenever it came to alcohol games, no one could ever beat Rika to it.

It had become a little more awkward to talk about why that was — and Satoko always got angry at her whenever she drunk too much, as her maybe-alcoholism had been a point of contention between them for a while.

She was probably right, too; but Rika didn’t think she could ever stop drinking, as it had become one of her last means of true comfort.

Or it should be, at least, but it seemed tonight, even wine was pretty ineffective to ease her feelings of anxiety and dissociation.

It was in those types of moments she really missed Hanyuu.

She’d be annoying, no doubt, but at least she’d here, with her, like she always used to be — and at least she would talk to her, and whisper to her, and sing to her, like when she used to be a child. At least she’d be—

“Thought I’d seen someone get out earlier… so it was you.”

The voice almost made her jump; she swirled around, and Keiichi was here, standing next to her, grinning — but not in his usual way, more softer.

“Yo, Rika. What’s up?”

“Nothing much. I was just taking some fresh air.”

“Some fresh air, huh?”

Keiichi eyed her glass suspiciously as she said so. Satoko hadn’t been the only one of her friends to have some misgivings regarding her drinking habits — Rena, especially, had taken her aside on the topic more than once — but surprisingly, Keiichi had also been one of the most disapproving on the topic.

She groaned. “I haven’t drunk that much. It’s only my… fifth glass… Probably?”

“Rika…”

“It’s not a lot for me, I swear. And either way, that’s none of your business. I’m not driving tonight anyway, so.”

Keiichi sighed, and it was too dark to see if he was rolling his eyes but she was pretty sure he did.

“Okay, okay. I’m not here to fight with you. Satoko won’t be happy about this, though.”

“What Satoko doesn’t know can’t hurt her,” she replied, finishing the glass.

“What, you’re lying to her now?”

“I’m not… Keiichi, are you here for something or do you just want to lecture me?”

“No, I was just… Sorry, that wasn’t my intention.”

He sighed, then crouched down. Rika stared at him for a moment, then finally let herself sat on the ground next to him. Her head fell on his shoulder casually.

“Rika, is everything good?”

“Hmm hm.”

“Cause you, like, don’t look all that good. I mean, you’re good, but… I dunno. You seem a big spacey? Did something happen in one of your trips, before you came back?”

“No,” she said honestly. “Nothing happened. Or rather… yeah, things happened. Some bad, some good, but that has nothing to do with this… It’s just…”

She felt Keiichi tilt his head slightly, a few brown strands falling in her eyes. She could sense his concern from here; but he didn’t rush her, just waited for her to speak on her own.

It was something Keiichi had learned and became good at as he got older; how to listen, how to be patient. He matured, grown into such a good, reliable man. She was proud of him.

Rika wasn’t sure she could say the same of her.

“I don’t feel bad,” she finally said. “I don’t. I’m glad to be here. I’m glad to be back home, in Hinamizawa, to see all of you; I really missed you…”

“I know you did.”

“But… It’s not the same.”

Keiichi seemed to consider her words for a moment.

“It’s not,” he repeated, and Rika wasn’t certain if it was a question or simply an agreement.

“It’s similar, but everything’s different. Everyone’s different. Hinamizawa has changed so much; is still changing so much.”

“And it’s bad?”

“No, that’s the thing. It’s good. But I just… Maybe.” She inhaled. Eyes rived on the stars, shining, blinding, hurting. “Maybe I just feel a little bit left behind.”

Far, far away, somewhere in the woods, or in the fields, cicadas were singing.

But even their chirping had stopped feeling familiar to Rika.

Keiichi suddenly moved a little, and she felt as if he was about to say something; but then the door opened, making both of them jump.

“Oh, so you were there!” Rena exclaimed happily. “Shii won! And god, she keeps grinning while thinking about the punishment, and—”

She stopped, blinked, looked at each of her friends. “Am I… interrupting?”

Rika and Keiichi exchanged a gaze, then shook their heads.

“Nah, we were just musing,” the man explained. “About… change, and stuff.”

“Change,” Rena repeated.

She eyed Keiichi, then her gaze landed on Rika; which instinctively, made the younger woman look away. As always, it was just impossible to sustain Rena’s piercing gaze when it felt like she could read anyone like a book.

“Change’s complicated,” she added, and somehow, despite how ridiculously simple her statement was, it felt strangely validating of Rika’s feelings. “It’s scary, but not unsurmountable. Not if we have guidance and people rely on.”

Keiichi laughed, full throat on, and nodded heartily. “Rena’s always got the best encouragement, even when she doesn’t know what we’re talking about!”

Rika smiled briefly, but then Keiichi turned towards Rika, and abruptly gripped her shoulder; firmly, reassuringly.

“Rika, you might feel that way, but you’re not left behind, y’know. We’ll… never really be able to get what you’ve been through, but we’ll always be here, as tightly knit as always, whenever you need it. And you just have to make a phone call, even if you’re on the other side of the planet, and we’ll come running for you right away. Always.” He turned towards Rena, something on his face seeming to ask her silently if he’d said the right words. “Right?”

“Right.”

And Rika felt like she probably should say something, thank them maybe, but her throat was all clogged up and she didn’t think she’d be able to pronounce a single word without her voice cracking; so instead she simply nodded, hoping the silent gratefulness showed enough on her face.

Her friends seemed to get it, as they exchanged a smile, but right as they were about to retreat back inside, words brusquely fell out from Rika’s mouth.

“I miss Hanyuu, too.”

She hadn’t actually planned to say this, and it even shocked herself to hear her own voice articulate this peculiar, intimate feeling. It wasn’t like it was a secret, to her or to anyone, but it still was something she generally kept to herself and everyone respected that. Keiichi and Rena looked at her in surprise, before their expression softened and instead his expression settled on awkward, at a loss for words, while hers was more neutral.

“Sorry,” Rika quickly added, and really, her throat shouldn’t feel as dry as this — she would not cry over this, not right now, she just wouldn’t— “I-I didn’t… I mean—”

“It’s okay,” Rena said. Both her face and her voice were very gentle, and she took a few steps before softly hugging Rika in her arms. “I miss her too.”

And because it was Rena, who was maybe the only other club member with a particular bond to Hinamizawa’s god, Rika believed her, and let herself feel supported, and loved, and understood.

“Heeyy! Kei, Rena, Rika!” Mion’s voice suddenly resounded from inside, making Rika pull away from Rena before their friend’s silhouette actually burst out outside.

She threw her arms around Rena and Keiichi’s shoulders, apparently too high and excited from the game’s liveliness to notice the mood.

“What’re ya guys doin’?! Trying to run away?”

“No way, I won’t allow it!” Shion’s voice added from behind. “I finally decided upon the punishment, and you’re not going to avoid it!”

Keiichi winced and Rena shuddered, but Rika only laughed — and when they finally all went back inside, she grabbed both of her friends’ hands, letting their warmth being the thing to ground her this time instead of some glass of wine.

______________________________________________________________

She tapped the tip of her pen on the paper.

Her notebook’s page was still blank. Not a trace of ink, of pencil, of gum marks tainted the white of the paper. Not a single hint of inspiration spiralled inside her empty mind. Frustrated, she took yet again the bottle of wine to her side, and emptied it in one gulp.

“Rika, that’s enough now. You’ve drink enough for the evening, don’t you think?”

Satoko headed to her side — Rika had barely sensed her presence, which was unusual — then took the bottle from her hand. Rika glared at her, but she knew if she started to argue it would end up in a fight, and she didn’t want to fight with Satoko right now; so she just let it go, closed her notebook and descended from the window sill on which she’d been perched since they’d come back from Keiichi’s house.

Surprisingly, they hadn’t left all that late. The Sonozaki twins — who were the two biggest drinkers of their group after Rika — had been too drunk to walk anywhere, so they decided to sleep at the Maebaras’; but all the others went home shortly after midnight, Satoko and Rika included. Well, Rika might not have been too drunk to go back to their place without problems, but now she certainly was, as she almost felt her head spinning just by standing.

“Come now, go to sleep, Rika,” Satoko said, kneeling next to their futon. “You have training for the dance tomorrow, don’t you? You need to be in good shape.”

She did. Even if admittedly, she really wasn’t looking forward to doing any of these things right now.

Rika looked through the window for a moment, staring at the full moon shining in the sky, then instinctively turned around to stare at their calendar; almost the same model they’d used for years — the one where out of the two of them who woke up first had the privilege to turn the page each new mornings. The one Rika had stared at longingly for so many, many identical days, endlessly repeating. It displayed today’s date — ‘Sunday, June 8, 2003’ — in a vivid red colour right now.

Rika shook her head, then finally let herself crawl under the blanket of the futon next to Satoko — burying herself under the sheets, as if hoping to disappear through them.

She heard a long-suffering sigh, then the body next to hers moved. Slowly, fingers gently touched hers, and when they weren’t met by rejection they entangled themselves with her own.

“Rika, what’s going on? I know you talked with Keiichi and Rena earlier. Won’t you talk to me too?”

“It’s stupid,” Rika whispered, voice muffled from under the sheets.

“Obviously it’s not, if it makes you act like a capricious child.”

Rika lifted her head, and was met with a pair of magenta jewels glimmering brilliantly under the moonlight.

Satoko’s eyes always shined so brightly, just like the rest of her.

“I’m not,” she mumbled childishly while glaring at her friend, which certainly didn’t help her case.

“Then speak to me. Come on, Rika. You should know that by now. Speak to me.” She paused. “Don’t hide things. At least not to me.”

She did know that, of course.

Talk. Don’t bottle things up. She’d learnt that lesson already, years and years back.

“…I can’t write.”

Satoko blinked at her, confusion written all over her face. “What?”

“I… you know, I write. Sometimes. A couple of sentences, here and there. Poems.”

Satoko nodded. She did know, since Rika had told her herself. She’d never shown anyone her very first notebooks, her very first poems — the ones she’d wrote all by herself, in the darkness, when she felt like everything was so hopeless she’d be better off to stay dead and never come back again.

She’d never shown anyone those poems, not even to Hanyuu.

They were hers, and only hers — painful secrets and ugly thoughts and wretched prayers that had to stay just between herself and the old, deranged witch Bernkastel.

It was her wishes and her despair and her hopes all channelled into flowery words and papers and she could never stand it for anyone to poise their hands on it, tearing apart her heart at its most vulnerable.

That’s why she’d burnt all of them after writing the last one once she made it past that summer twenty years ago.

But while she couldn’t show them, she had… spoken about them. To Satoko.

She’d let Satoko read some of her newer poems, the ones who weren’t as raw as those written in the loops.

“I write… about all sorts of things. My feelings. My travels. My experiences. The years going by…” She swallowed. “But those last few months, it seems I cannot write anything at all anymore.”

Satoko frowned. “Writer’s block?”

“I thought I’d be able to find more inspirations by finally coming back home, but instead…”

Instead, it was if it had been worse. Now even just looking at the paper made her stomach twist and let her mind wander into its worst thoughts.

“I told Keiichi,” she continued, voice soft, almost a whisper. “That I… that things changed. You know. They’re the same, but they’re different. And that’s a good thing, I do believe so, but it feels like I’m… I don’t know, like I’m the only one who doesn’t change. Like I’m the only one who’s… stuck. Like I…”

She stopped. She couldn’t look at Satoko in the eyes anymore, even though she could still feel the other woman’s gaze fixed on her, listening to her intensely.

“Like I’m still stuck in that loop.”

Rika didn’t need to explain what she meant by that, she knew Satoko knew.

The grip on her hand didn’t lessen, but she felt a thumb gently caress her skin, brushing over old cutting scars on her wrist.

“You’re scared of change.”

“No, that’s not… not really. It’s too… I don’t know. The years pass on, and back then— back then, when I was still stuck, I knew what to expect. I knew what would happen every single day, every single hour; everything was scripted, and I just knew. And it was all so unbearably… boring, but at least— at least I knew.” She sighed. “I don’t know anymore. Nothing’s scripted anymore. I can never tell what’s going to happen. And it’s good, but also… Not good. I guess.”

She let go of Satoko’s hand so that she could rub her face and her eyes, and suddenly she felt all of her one hundred thirty-one years weight on her, pulling her down, and she felt so tired.

“I told Keiichi I felt left behind, sort of. But like— that’s stupid. I’m glad to be here, I’m glad things are changing, and— god, it’s been twenty goddamn years, and I should be used to all this by now. I should be— I should be fine. I’m fine.”

Satoko kept silent for a moment, as Rika tried to regulate her breathing and not have some stupid panic attack or something because it would’ve been even more unbearably embarrassing.

Fuck, she wished Hanyuu was here so damn badly. At least with Hanyuu she never felt like an idiot when stuff like this happened.

“You’ve changed too, Rika.”

Rika removed her hands from her face, and turned to stare at Satoko oddly. But her friend wasn’t looking at her, she was looking at her hands under the blanket instead, frowning slightly.

“You’ve changed. You’re not stuck. You might not have realized it, but you did. You’ve grown up. You’ve matured. You speak, you share your burdens, you keep writing. And even when you feel bad, like right now, you keep speaking.” Satoko breathed in, then looked at Rika again. “You know, I really miss you, a whole damn lot. Almost every day, when you’re away travelling the world and whatnot, I wish you were still right here with me, by my side; but at the end of the day, I’m okay with it, because I know you’re out there doing what you love, and in the end you’ll always came back home, come back to me. And every time you do, you look even more beautiful and changed than the last time. And I’m— I’m proud of you, for that.”

Satoko smiles, and there’s something truly unique about this moment with the fact she’s able to say all of this without getting embarrassed.

“And you know, even if I can’t understand what you went through exactly, I can still relate to this. Feeling left behind. Feeling like… I don’t know, the world move too fast, and that one day Saki’s going to be a grown woman and I’ll be an old lady and it won’t makes sense.”

She reached out towards Rika, running her hand in her short blue hair, putting back some of her strands behind her ear in a tender movement.

“But as long as we— keep talking. About this. Then it’ll be all right, I think. It’ll makes sense. We’ll be okay.”

Rika stares at her, straight into her eyes, and Satoko smiles at her, and then she believes it.

Yes, they’ll be okay.

Hanyuu’s not here, and people die and grow up too fast and her village move on and the world keep turning and Rika still feel too disconnected from it all like she’ll never be truly able to fit in and adapt to normal life, but maybe it’ll be all right.

Maybe they’ll be okay.

As she held Satoko’s hand yet again, and close her eyes to fall asleep, her heart feel a little more at ease for the first time since she came back to Hinamizawa.

______________________________________________________________

Watanagashi’s colours and lightning felt so blinding this year.

Well, Rika didn’t know if it was actually any more or less than the other years, but at least it seemed to feel like that for sure. Maybe it was the effect of knowing it was the twentieth year since the end of the curse.

A week had passed since she’d first came, and as the last Sunday of June had finally arrived, the festival was now living at its fullest; villagers and tourists alike trotting both in casual clothes and kimono, children playing and running, music and screams and laughters roaring all around. Rika was watching all of this from afar in her shrine priestess garb while chewing on yakitori, making sure not to dirty the traditional robes. Although she had years of experience of this by now, so it was pretty easy; but this was the last souvenir of Oryou that she had — one she’d sew for her twentieth birthday when at the time she could barely get out of bed anymore — so she still wanted to be extremely careful with it.

She and the rest of the club had just started their big annual club activity — the Fight of the Seven Demons (with, maybe sometimes, Eight Demons because of Sakiko, but the girl usually got quickly tired of this and wanted to go home) — however, at some point there had been tensions between two booth owners and Keiichi, as the mayor, had to go intervene so that it doesn’t degenerate. And on the way back he’d been intercepted by his old pal, famous baseball player Yukikazu Kameda, and they’d been catching up ever since. She heard Satoko let out a sigh as she leaned onto her shoulder, a small horse plushie that Satoshi (well, technically Shion because Satoshi hadn’t been able to win it) had gotten for her at one of the booth as a present.

“Really can’t believe he actually left us for this guy,” she grumbled. “Soon it’ll be time for Rika’s performance and we won’t know who won the Seven Demons’ Fight!”

“Hauu, but look at them, they’re so kyute! I wanna take ‘em home!”

“Don’t worry, Satoko,” Mion added. “Even if we don’t make it in time before the performance, we can finish it after. We don’t have a curfew anymore, after all!”

Rika nodded and was about to add something, when another voice came from behind her.

“You might not have a curfew anymore, but some of you has kids you have to look after now, don’t you?”

Irie appeared in their vision field along with Satoshi and Shion, who had just left briefly to get Sakiko to quiet down as she’d started to throw a tantrum in the middle of the festivities. Rika didn’t know what they’d done, but manifestly she’d calmed down now, resting in her mother’s arms in utter silence.

“Oh, Manager!” Mion exclaimed. “We hadn't seen you all night, so we were wondering if something had happened.”

“There was some work to do at the clinic, but nothing urgent.”

Rika knew that if Irie said that had been nothing urgent then he probably meant it, but the sentence made her tense by instinct. Hinamizawa syndrome hadn’t been an issue in years, and now Irie Clinic was just a normal clinic; once in a while, Rika would still drop by and run some tests, as well as the ones who’d been heavily affected by the syndrome like Satoko and Satoshi, but so far there had not been any new problems and Hifumi Takano or his granddaughter’s researches had not been mentioned in a long time. And even if it was the case, Rika was certain that Irie would instantly come to her about it.

But she still tensed. Maybe it was a natural reaction when it came to the syndrome that had been too deeply embedded in her since she was a child, but she just couldn’t help it.

She didn’t know if Irie actually noticed it, but he still threw an odd sympathetic look at her, which she guessed was meant to be reassuring — and that was surprisingly effective these days. With his caramel hair a bit longer and tied in a low ponytail and his features older, he actually did now have the posture of a respected older doctor, although he was still prompt to throw around his silly jokes.

“We don’t have to worry about the kids, actually,” Rena said. “Aiko and Ichirou are the ones looking after Kihiro right now, and they’ll go home right after Rika’s dance. And Mii and Shii’s uncle Yoshirou said he’ll take care of Saki for the night if need to be.”

“Ohh, I see you’ve already taken care of everything then. What responsible adults you’ve all become.”

“Are you going to have fun at the festival now, then?” Satoko asked. “You work too much, Manager. It’s not good for your health now that your so old.”

“Oh dear, Satoko, you should careful to how you talk to your elders like that.”

Irie laughed heartily, before rubbing Satoko’s head roughly and attempting to pinch her sides in retaliation — although he didn’t look offended at all.

“I wanna play baseball again, Uncle Manager,” Sakiko interjected softly from Shion’s arms.

The girl was still too young to officially rejoins Irie’s baseball team, that had since then became mixed, but with the three most important adults in her life being pretty involved in the sport, she’d quickly got initiated as well — Satoko always boasted about how good she was at it already. Irie smiled at the child, then while checking the authorisation from Shion, he took her in his arms while grinning.

“Of course. I’ll make sure to organize a game just for you at school next month, Saki. What do you say?”

Sakiko’s eyes brightened. “Really?!”

“But in exchange you’ll have to listen to everything your parents says without arguing for a whole year.”

And then her face crumpled, and everyone laughed upon seeing her clearly weighting the pros and the cons in her head.

“Hey, sorry to make you all wait, I’m back now and I’m so fired up!” Keiichi suddenly jumped in from the crowd within their circle, showing off his biceps. “Are you ready to lose?!”

“We’re the ones who should be asking that!” Mion replied, elbowing him in the sides. “Who abandoned us to go hang out with your boyfriend, huh?! You traitor!”

“Ow! Hey, Mion! I already told you to stop it with the accusations, Kameda’s not—”

Mion caught his head in a playful headlock while Rena fussed over them, and after some time spent messing around their big fight finally started again. They jumped from booth to booth, both the games and food ones, as usual without interruption all while making as much noise as possible; something, it seemed, that not even their departure of their teenage years had changed, but also something everyone in Hinamizawa had become quite used to by now.

It was upon arriving at Tomita’s tofu booth that they ultimately decided on their final round, Okamura accepting to play the role of their arbiter; and after a frank debate between the two old best friends, they settled upon Rika being the official winner, with Keiichi arriving last. (Whether or not Okamura’s old crush from their childhood years played into this choice, like Shion accused, was up for debate — but Rika managed to play off all suspicions by reminding them of the fact that both Okamura and Tomita were now married to completely different women than her and Satoko.)

Everything felt so pleasantly familiar as Rika let herself laugh with the others that she’d almost completely forgot her stupid unease she’d had when she’d first arrived here a week ago.

But then, out of nowhere, she promptly heard the click of a camera behind her.

Her heart skipped a beat as a wave of nostalgia swallowed her, and she spun around. She was almost expecting to find in front of her the face of a brown-haired man with glasses and an awkward smile, a big yellow camera in his hands, but instead there was no one; it seemed the click had come from a family a few steps away.

She felt like she was starting to get paranoid now. Honestly, what had been that reaction?

“So?” Mion interject. “What punishment should Keiichi get?”

Rika snapped back to reality, and felt almost ashamed to admit she didn’t consider it. They hadn’t decided to plan it in advance, so the winner had to be the one to decide — but, while usually she’d have a lot of choices, right now she couldn’t think of anything. Keiichi was staring at her suspiciously, and she only smiled apologetically at him.

“I’ll come up with one after the performance,” she explained finally.

“What? You cannot do that, that’s boring,” Shion protested, but her sister only shrugged.

“That’ll do it, I guess— Oh?”

Mion’s eyes suddenly stopped with surprise right in front of her; and, as such, everyone in the club followed her gaze. They seemed to be fixated on the silhouette of a woman a few meters away — probably in her thirties, she had long green hair, darker than Mion’s, tied into a single braid and a lost look on her face as she looked right and left, as if searching for someone. Rika had no idea who this was, but Mion’s face brightened into a smile, so she seemed to be an acquaintance of her.

“Natsumi!” She finally exclaimed, and the woman turned around. When she noticed Mion waving at her, she smiled back and quickly trotted towards them.

“Mion,” she said, softly. “It’s… nice to see you.”

“You too! Glad you could make it. According to your mom, it wasn’t certain you would, huh?”

“Um,” Rena interrupted. “Mii?”

Mion blinked back at Rena, then finally realized that the rest of the group looked at her with confused faces. She scratched her head.

“Oh c’mon, you’ve met Natsumi already, didn’t you? She’s a distant relative from the Kimiyoshis. Used to live in Okinomiya back when we were kids, but she moved about a long time ago. She still dropped by here a few times before?”

“Ah!” Shion exclaimed. “Right, right, of course. My apologies, Kimiyoshi, my memories can be pretty bad.”

Natsumi, it seemed, didn’t seem offended in the slightest, and simply smiled.

“It’s all right. And I’m Natsumi Toudou now.”

“Oh that’s right! Don’t think I’ve ever met your husband before. Is he here?”

“He is,” she confirmed, and her face cleared with adoration right away. “Akira and I came here with some friends too. Although, it wouldn’t have been possible if not for Detective Ooishi.”

“Ooishi?” Keiichi repeated. “You know that old fart too?”

Natsumi appeared surprised by his vulgarity and stared at him with wide eyes, as Rena shushed him right away with a ‘Be more polite!’

“Natsumi is friend with a cop lady who’s an old buddy of Ooishi, apparently,” Mion explained for her. “Or, er, something like that, I think?”

“Detective Minai, yes. So, Mr. Ooishi is the one who guided us here…”

“How generous of him,” Mion snorted, not trying to disguise the thorns in her voice. Even after all this time, she still wasn’t fond of the man. “Always ready to help the ones in need, huh, that old guy.”

“Of course I am. What kind of person would I be to abandon a charming young lady in need like Mrs. Toudou?”

Each member of the group jumped and turned around; and sure enough, the said old fart was here — almost the same sleazy gaze and appearance he always had, too, even if the last few years had clearly taken a toll on him, and that he now had to use a cane to help him move around. Right behind him stood Akasaka, who seemed to be carefully observing his friend as though he was afraid of him tumbling down at some point — but he still managed to sparse a soft smile to Rika, who responded in kind.

“Oh, Detective!” Natsumi exclaimed. “I was wondering where you were…”

“Oh, worried for me, Mrs. Toudou? Nahaha, I’m flattered, but unfortunately I am not interested in married women; they’re too much troubles.”

“Wha—” The woman turned bright red. “Th-That’s not what— I mean—”

“He’s only messing with you, do not mind him,” Akasaka helped, throwing a glare at Ooishi who chuckled. “You should stop teasing her like that, or else I’m going to report it to Ms. Minai.”

“Ohh, scary, scary! You’re right, I apologize then.”

“We’ve just came across Mr. Toudou and two of your friends, I believe. They seemed to be looking for you, so I think you should go back to them.”

“O-Oh, right, I should do that! Thank you!”

Natsumi seemed to be about to run off, but right before then she stopped, and turned towards Mion again.

“We’ll stay here for a few days, but I just wanted to say… I’m really grateful to be able to be here for this festival right now. My grandmother loved Watanagashi and Hinamizawa very much, and she was right — this really is a beautiful place.”

Mion grinned, but it was Keiichi who answered for her this time, voice full of pride: “You’re right! Drop by anytime, Hinamizawa’s open to all!”

She smiled, and then allowed one glance at Rika this time.

“I’ll be sure to watch your performance as well. Thank you for welcoming me here.”

Rika nodded a little confusedly, and then with one last good bye to Mion, Natsumi finally ran off. She wasn’t sure why she’d taken the pain to specifically say this to Rika; but maybe her status as the priestess of Oyashiro tended to have this effect on people, even those who weren’t all that familiar with the region’s customs.

“Seems like you did a lot of good work this year again,” Ooishi mused, looking around pensively. “Last time I came it was… six years ago? And even then, there wasn’t as many tourists. You’ll easily beat Tokyo’s festivals if you keep on like this.”

“If that’s a challenge, Detective, then I’ll accept it!” Keiichi exclaimed, and Ooishi chuckled.

“I haven’t been a ‘detective’ in decades, so maybe it’ll be time for you kids to stop calling me that.”

“You’ll always be Detective to us,” Rena replied. “You’ll be one to me, at least.”

“Aw, would you see that. Always the one with the sweetest words, Ms. Ryuuguu. Right, speakin’ of, is your small enterprise going well in Okinomiya? Heard from Kuma that you’re doing quite some competition to the police; people prefer coming to you rather than the cops to solve problems and cases.”

Rena flushed a little, rolling one strand of orange hair around her finger. “That’s not true… I’m just doing some detective work here and there, but that’s not much.”

“And always as modest as ever, huh.”

It wasn’t as much modesty as it was the truth; technically speaking, Rena was only the editor and publisher of a small town independent magazine, but somehow one thing leading to another she’d also ended up doing quite some detective work at her lost hours. Some even called her a private detective here and there, even if that wasn’t how she marketed herself.

“Ah… by the way, aren’t Miyuki and Yukie with you?” Rika asked then, noticing only the presence of the two men around.

“They decided to make a round of the festival just the two of them,” Akasaka replied. “But don’t worry, they won’t miss your performance. Miyuki bought a specific camera for it, even.”

Rika smiled back at him. “I have no doubt about it.”

Behind him, Ooishi seemed to have fallen into an unusual silence; his wrinkled eyes surveying the area, the people having fun, with a melancholic look.

Rika wondered what must be going on in his mind at this moment, as he observed yet again the festival after not having seen it for years now.

She wondered if he felt like he was back twenty years before then, still investigating the curse, on the lookout for the slightest suspicious person or event.

She wondered if he thought back to his friend, the construction manager that had been killed and dismembered.

But she didn’t have to wonder what he was thinking when suddenly his face relaxed and he looked over them — their group of kids who were not kids anymore — because his gaze communicated his thoughts as clearly as the day.

Thank god that this year, no murder and disappearance will happen.

______________________________________________________________

When Rika descended from the stage at the end of her dance, she was struggling to breathe and her limbs were trembling.

It felt almost strange how exhausted she felt. Back when she was a child, she was never this tired after a performance or training, even when she had troubles to even just lift the hoe. She’d say that she was getting old, but she was only thirty-one, so she refused to admit this to herself.

Some villagers rushed to her side to help her out as well as two of the girls she was mentoring; newcomers of the village, one had who moved in four years ago and the other only last year. They were good at it, too, and seemed very fascinated by Oyashiro and Hinamizawa’s traditions, so Rika was glad to see there were genuine interest in these old customs from a new generation, even non-native.

After drinking some water, she decided she wanted to stay away from the crowd for a little while before she get back to her friends; to breath some fresh air and rest her body a little more, and so she ended up trotting all the way back to the ritual storehouse, which was the only place she knew she’d find time alone.

When she arrived there, she let out a sigh and sat on the rock that stood in front of the shed, contemplating the small, familiar building, with only company the muffled sounds of the cicadas escaping from the forest.

She used to spend so much time in there, alone with Oyashiro’s status, all those rusty torture implements and, occasionally, Hanyuu.

Everyone had always been horrified by such an ominous place, even her own parents despite being part of the Furude family, but it had never been the case for Rika.

To her, it had always been Hanyuu’s home before anything else, and even the bloody instruments scattered around had never been able to taint that sense of comfort she felt in it.

Her reminiscences were cut shorts when she heard a rustling sound from behind.

She jumped back; all of her muscles getting tense and her senses sharply vivid as her eyes narrowed and surveyed the surroundings. For a moment, she contemplated the idea of just running away, maybe screaming for help if needed — until a voice stopped her.

“Please, don’t leave. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to startle you, Rika Furude.”

The shadows in front of her started moving; and then a figure emerged. A woman — older than Rika, most likely, with long, fair hair, wearing skinny pants and high heels and a long hat. It should be completely impossible to tell her identity in the dark like that, not when Rika couldn’t even tell the colour of her hair, but somehow she still recognized her immediately.

She knew that voice, that way of talking, of moving. She wasn’t a person she was intimate with, but despite this she was pretty sure she’d be able to tell her apart anywhere.

“Takano?”

The name escaped her before she could really register what that person being there truly meant, and when she did, her blood froze in her veins and her breath got stuck in her throat.

“The one and only,” the woman said, and if there were any doubts about her identity before, that very specific cheeky and seducing tone she’d always employed confirmed it. “Although I just go by Miyoko now. It’s been a long time.”

Rika was simply so stunned that she couldn’t respond anything to this. How was she even supposed to react to that?

She hadn’t seen Miyo Takano ever since that infamous day where they defeated her and she left in Jirou Tomitake’s care. The man had come to them a few days afterwards, giving them a vague update about her situation being ‘stabilized’; that he was now ‘in charge of her’ and that they didn’t need to worry about her anymore. And then both of them had promptly disappeared from Rika’s life.

Even though Irie had said he had cut all ties with their organization, she always had some suspicions that the doctor might’ve still been sporadically in contact with Tomitake — but she had never asked, and he never told her, so it was more of an unspoken secret between them than something actually concrete.

And as far as Rika was concerned, it was perfectly fine by her to not know, too.

Miyo Takano was the person directly responsible for her hundred years of suffering.

She’d tortured her and her friends and forced her to experience so many horrific things that she still suffered nightmares from even now. She’d mercilessly massacred an entire village in countless other fragments. She’d killed both of Rika’s parents.

She was her murderer.

Rika had let her go twenty years ago, wasn’t interested in making her pay for that or taking revenge. As long as she could live her happy, peaceful life with her loved ones, the rest didn’t matter. But she certainly wasn’t interested in playing nice or having any contact with her, either.

Of course, she was aware that this Miyo Takano — or Miyoko — in front of her was technically not responsible for most of those things.

This fragment’s Miyo Takano had not killed or tortured her, she had not massacred the entirety of Hinamizawa. But that didn’t mean Rika was just fine with her, she’d always tended to be a pretty grudgeful person.

Oyashiro forgave that woman because she was a god, but her priestess was only human and had no intention to.

With all of this, an anger she’d thought asleep for decades suddenly resurfaced — and she felt lost, confused, and frustrated.

Why was this woman dared to show up here, right now, in front of her? Who did she think she was?

“I know what you must be thinking,” Takano started again. “‘What nerves does this old lady has to come to me after all that happened’, right?”

Somehow, the fact she seemed very aware of how surreal and out of place her impromptu visit was made it all the way worse, and Rika’s irritation completely overridden her shock.

“You’re fucking right I am,” she spat out. “How the hell did you think I’d react? Welcoming you with arms wide open? I let you go back then, but that doesn’t mean—”

“I know that,” Takano replied, voice firm, confident; just like she always used to speak back then. “I wasn’t expecting you to. I wasn’t—”

“Then what? What are you doing here, exactly? I swear, if you don’t answer quickly I’m going to yell and make sure to bring everyone here to kick your ass.”

She’d expect such a menace would take effect, but instead it seemed to completely shut down Takano. She got silent, and Rika thought she was staring at her; but it was hard to tell in the dark.

“She came because she wanted to see you.”

Another, masculine voice resonated from behind Takano. The woman didn’t startle at this, but she turned around a little jerkily, as if she’d known the other presence’s but hadn’t expected them to intervene.

“Wait, I told you—”

“You leave me no choice if you refuses to explains yourself to her properly, Miyoko.”

And then, right at the woman’s side, a man appeared in turn; and for a moment Rika felt herself going back in time — because the man she used to know as ‘Jirou Tomitake’ has almost not changed at all in those two decades. Of course, he did look a bit older; a few more wrinkles here and there, hair starting to turn grey (as much as she could see of them, anyway); and his camera and casual photographer clothes were nowhere to be seen. His soft, friendly smile, however, was just the same as Rika remembered.

“Hello, Rika. You’ve grown up to become quite a beautiful woman.” He sounded smoother than he used to be. More confident. Less awkward. Maybe it was an effect of old age, or maybe it was thanks to whatever must’ve happened to him and Takano after they left the village. Who knows.

“And you’ve become old,” Rika retorted, still on edge, angry. “What are you doing here? ‘Wanting to see me’ is not an answer. It honestly doesn’t makes sense. Why would you come all the way here after so many years just to ‘see’ me?”

She heard Takano sighing, and the couple exchanged a glance — are they still a couple? Hard to say like that. Tomitake seemed to throw at her an encouraging look, and Takano stepped forward, pulling some of her blonde strands behind her ears. Rika took a step back instinctively.

“I… Listen, I know you’re suspicious, and that makes sense,” she said. “You have every right to be—”

“You’ve tried to kill me and my friends and this entire village.” Rika took a shaky breath, then added, in a softer voice: “You’ve killed my parents.”

This is strange that even in this darkness, Rika was able to clearly see the flash of guilt and regret across the woman’s face. It somehow managed to anger her even further.

“Don’t tell me you’re here to apologize or some bullshit like that,” she snapped, her voice cold. “Because I won’t hear it. You don’t get to—”

“I won’t,” Takano stated, and Rika closed her mouth.

There was something in the way she just said it that made her freeze.

“I’m not… I didn’t come to apologize to you, or to anyone,” she continued. “Not because you don’t deserve it, or because I don’t feel sorry, but because— I’m aware any apologies I could make would only ring hollow. It would mean nothing to you and fix nothing. I know.”

Rika stayed quiet, because yes, she was absolutely right. Takano’s regrets or apologies would hold no meaning to hundred years of suffering, to her parents’ death. She had no need for it.

“It is… simply like what he said. I just… wanted to see you. See Hinamizawa, once more. I just—”

She swallowed, and then her gaze looked around, through the forest.

“It is pretty amazing, how everything stayed the same and changed so much at the same time. I spent so much time studying this village and analysing every bit of it… and yet, I feel like this is the first time I’ve really been able to see it. As it truly is.”

She sounded so contemplating, so… serene, that weirdly enough, despite the anger, Rika let her speak.

“I’ve heard… that Irie managed to canalize the syndrome. And that… you’ve emptied the ritual storehouse, too. Got rid of all the torture instruments.”

“…Yes. Some have been stored in a museum of a neighbouring city. Only Oyashiro’s status and the proper equipment we use for Watanagashi remains in there. We decided it was… time to leave this dark history of Hinamizawa in the past.”

It happened a few years after Rika ended the loops, when she’d just started college. It had created quite the fuss, especially amongst the elderly. Some had fought them on the topic, but in the end, it was decided this wasn’t something that should be kept hidden like that, and that it was harmful for the future of the village.

It didn’t mean they just wanted to erase Hinamizawa’s history, even the more bloody one — they only wanted to put this particularly page of their history in the past. Let bygones be bygones. Let this trauma of the past where it belongs to finally moves on properly.

“And I’ve… also heard that you’ve been travelling around the world.”

“Yes…”

Takano breathed in once again, and Tomitake reached out, putting a hand on her shoulder. Rika didn’t know if that gesture was meant to be one of comfort or something else.

“That’s good,” Takano finally concluded. “That’s… how it all should be.”

“…It is.”

Takano nodded, then once again stared at the ritual storehouse behind Rika. She didn’t know if it was the moon or Takano’s feelings, but something wistful seemed to shine in her eyes.

“She must be proud, too. That god.”

______________________________________________________________

In the end, she never really understood what Takano had wanted to do by coming here, but maybe it didn’t matter much.

It seemed important to her, but to Rika, it was only one slight incident in the big parcour that was her life. She hadn’t even tried to see if Takano and Tomitake had stayed around afterwards, of if they’d left immediately — but, somehow, she had the feeling that they wouldn’t be seeing each other anymore after that.

Whatever life this woman Miyoko had built for herself in the last decades, it was far away from here and her sins, and it was likely for the best.

Rika shook away her thoughts as she tried to discretely entangles herself from Satoko’s arms and get away from Keiichi’s foot.

After leaving Takano and Tomitake, she’d rejoined the group and they’d decided to yet again start another new game. Sakiko had fell asleep already and been left in the care of her uncle as planned, meanwhile their game had quickly devolved into an alcoholic one and, as most of them ended up completely drunk, they’d just decided to crash at Rika and Satoko’s place until the morning.

Their little home was a bit cramped with all seven of them sleeping in there, but at least none of them were guaranteed to get cold during the night — and it wasn’t the first time they’d done this anyway.

As Rika stepped outside the room, she couldn’t help but smile fondly while watching them all sleeping soundly; Satoshi, Shion and Satoko were all bundled up together, Rena was using Keiichi’s stomach as a pillow while being spooned from behind by Mion. She closed the door softly behind her, walking like a cat.

It felt oddly cold tonight, and she almost regretted not bringing a sweater with her. Even she didn’t turn back and kept walking determinedly in front of her, not disturbed in the least by the complete darkness surrounding her except for the moonlight.

Finally after about ten minutes, she arrived at her favourite place; the one overlooking the entirety of the village with the most beautiful view of the landscape. She could still remember being six years old and dragging Akasaka up here, prophetizing her own death to him.

Hanyuu had been the one to show her this place.

She leaned on the railing as a gust of wind made her blue hair and her pink nightgown flutter in the air. Her eyes narrowed, trying to figure out the scenery even amongst the darkness, spotting all the little lights in the middle of the night’s blackness that were still turned on.

Her home, her prison, her graveyard — Hinamizawa, Onigafuchi, the village of demons.

Takano’s words from earlier still echoed in her mind, each one filled with grief and melancholy.

“…Hello, Hanyuu. How have you been? Sorry I haven’t talked to you in a while.”

Except for the dead silence of the night and the cry of the cicadas, there was no answer — but Rika didn’t let this bother and continued to speak, her voice barely a whisper.

Even if there had been someone, they wouldn’t have been able to hear her unless they’d been right besides her.

“Things changed a lot since… you’ve been gone, but somehow, they also haven’t. It’s all very odd. I’ve seen all kinds of marvellous and incredible things all over the world, and all of us have grown up, and it feels like nothing will ever be the same and at the same time that nothing will change.”

She took a deep, shaky breath.

“…It’s a little confusing, sometimes. A little lonely and frightening. Sometimes… I wonder if you might’ve been right. About no trying harder to get past that summer. It was easier in a way, to be stuck in that loop and know everything that was going to happen in advance. I don’t have that chance anymore. But… that’s how it should be. And I’m strong, and I’m not all alone, so I’m doing fine, all things considered. So… in the end, I’m still certain I was right, Hanyuu. The future past that eternal summer of Shouwa 53… is wonderful. I’m glad to be there…”

She leaned onto the railing; her fingers tightening around the old, decrepit wood.

“But I miss you too, sometimes.” She looked up at the moon. “She’s right though, isn’t she? You have to be proud… Of us, of the village, of… me.”

There was still no reply, of course. Hanyuu hadn’t been there for her in years; she hadn’t heard he voice in decades.

But she felt like she was right in believing so; felt as if a little voice was nodding along with her.

She thought back to Akasaka and his family and their quiet support, she thought back to Rena and Keiichi’s encouragement, about the other club members’ strength, about Satoko’s love.

Oyashiro wasn’t here anymore, Hinamizawa was moving on from the past, and everything was evolving — but she would be fine. They would be fine.

This is what she’d always desired since she got murdered for the first time all those years ago at the age of eleven, and she would trade it for nothing in the world.

Her fingers were cold, but she slowly took out her notebook she’d hidden in her dress with a pen and opened it under the light of the moon, resplendent against the white paper.

The pages were still blank for now; she hadn’t been able to fill them up even in the whole week she’d been here.

But she felt a bit more inspired now. Maybe it was Watanagashi’s magic.

She couldn’t help but remember the last poem she’d penned right after breaking the curse, the words still ingrained in her head even though she’d burnt the whole thing immediately after.

For me, that is about a hundred year’s worth.

For you, a thousand year’s worth.

She still hadn’t earned back her hundred year’s worth of happiness, but she felt she was on the good path for it.

With a smile, she took her pen in hand and started writing.

13 notes · View notes

milkybonya · 3 years

Text

cheer up, buttercup!

order #001: large banana milk tea with pudding and grass jelly for Cha Eunwoo, requested by my lovely @daybreakx !

-> enemies to lovers! & college!Cha Eunwoo x (gn) reader

-> warnings: some angst and food mentions! also drinking/alcohol mentions and everyone is really mean to the reader >:0

-> where Eunwoo is the president of your department and you're the vice president. you work your hardest but always end up second to him.

[a/n]: i'm sorry for the CHAOS that this is and i feel like there is minimal (?) fluff but i hope you enjoYY THIS WAS FUN

You and Eunwoo had major beef. There wasn't even an event that started it all, but Eunwoo treated you with such disrespect from the start. And of course, anyone who disrespected you was on your list of... well, the closest thing to a list of enemies.

The first time you met him was in freshman year at the orientation before classes began. There was a basketball game going on and Eunwoo was playing. You watched from the sidelines in the shade, cheering him on at first because he was playing on behalf of your department.

Then, the ball flew in your direction. Eunwoo had tried to get the ball back for his team, but ended up accidentally throwing it towards you.

Luckily, it fell somewhere to your left, but it gave you such a fright that you stood up and started panting.

A few of the people who were playing rushed over to make sure you were okay, but Eunwoo didn't even throw a look your way.

"You, from our department? Just throw the ball back!" was all he said to you.

It made your blood boil.

Eunwoo was known for being a little blunt anyway, but he definitely went out of his way to grind your gears.

"Where is the president?" the social convenor asked.

You sighed, checking the time and noticing that Eunwoo was fifteen minutes late.

"If I knew where he was... If only I knew," you mumbled.

"Why is Eunwoo even the president, anyway?" another member of the student council asked.

"Because he's hot and cool and everyone likes him!" a girl squealed. You couldn't even remember what her position in the student council was, but judging by her comment, you realized that she must be here just for Eunwoo.

"He's absolutely dumb, does nothing all day yet somehow gets A's! Of course, why wouldn't he be the president?" your tone was dripping with sarcasm and your anger was almost about to overflow.

Until that man walked into the meeting room, at last.

"I'm dumb and do nothing all day? Why, thank you. I'm here, now," Eunwoo declared, strolling towards his seat. He had his black leather jacket slung over a shoulder.

God, I hate my life, you thought to yourself.

"That's what [y/n], said, but I don't think that way!" the girl who squealed earlier spoke.

"Thanks, Stacy."

Eunwoo only flashed her a quick smile before he sat back in his seat.

"So, what are we doing?"

"What do you mean, 'what are we doing'? We have an open house tomorrow and tons of high school students will be checking on our department! You're the president, you were supposed to-"

Eunwoo hushes you by raising up his hand from where it was resting on his thigh.

"It's all good, I've got it sorted."

He slammed down a notebook onto the table.

"I've taken notes on how open houses have been previously organized and have put them all in this book. I highlighted the events that seemed like they had a lot of potential, so look through those and decide on something, alright? I'll be off," Eunwoo explained, standing up.

"Where are you going?" you almost spat out at Eunwoo. He walks in here, makes a fool out of you and then decides to leave?

"To go 'be dumb and do nothing all day'. Isn't that what you said I do?"

He glared at you slightly before leaving the room.

"[y/n], you made Nunu so angry! Nunu, don't be mad, come back!" Stacy screamed, chasing after him.

You sighed, running your fingers through your hair.

"This idiot really thought I wouldn't know about the past open houses..."

You slam down the notebook that you had also brought.

"Damn... so he really just provided us some useless info and left?" the social convenor asks, shaking their head.

"Yeah, pretty much," you say.

So how did you and Eunwoo end up as vice president and president, anyway? Well, these positions were given to the students with the highest grades. Eunwoo had the highest, so he was given the title of president. You were trailing close behind, and were given the title of vice president.

You always told yourself that you should have been the president, and rightfully so! Eunwoo never did anything but play games on his phone, anyway.

When the open house event finally rolled around, you and Eunwoo were supposed to give a speech in a lecture hall to get the day started. It was mostly to welcome the high school students and lift the spirits of everyone there, not too big of a deal!

But still, big enough of a deal that Eunwoo should have shown up.

He didn't. And you were anything but surprised.

Forced to deliver your speech and somehow improvise along the way to make up for Eunwoo's missing presence, you were shocked to find that the audience started clapping right as you finished. It felt as though your hard work had paid off, and you stepped back, smiling at everyone in the crowd.

Until Eunwoo walked up to the mic, flashing a smile of his own and greeting everyone.

Yep, they had all been clapping for him, not for you.

Eunwoo turned and looked at you, mouthing, "did you prepare my script?"

"You were supposed to do that! Do I look like your secretary?"

Eunwoo scowled at you and turned to everyone who was seated. He ended up repeating a bunch of the same things that you had said and received an enthusiastic applause. You sighed from behind the curtains, wondering why Eunwoo always got the credit for all your hard work. It was probably his looks, but still.

Throughout the day, you walked around campus and ensured that everything was running smoothly. Eunwoo was supposed to be doing the same, you hoped, and you asked him this when you ran into him outside of the campus student centre.

"Have you been walking around like you were supposed to?"

"I'll deal with my business on my own," he said, almost scoffing at you. He was standing there scrolling through his phone.

"This isn't 'your business'? We're literally supposed to be working together!"

"Stop nagging me, [y/n]. I don't like it when you do that," he grumbled.

"Yeah, well I don't like you!" you yelled, storming away from him. You felt... very embarrassed. What kind of comeback was that? It sounded like something a child would say... oh, well.

You saw your friend handing out some goodies at a table outside and approached them.

"How's it going, vice president?" they asked you, handing you a snack.

"Terrible," you groaned, opening it and eating some.

"Why, what's up?"

"Cha Eunwoo is being a pain in the butt, as always," you sighed.

"You might want to watch what you say," your friend mumbled, pointing behind you.

You turned around a little too late as the snack in your hands was whisked away by Cha Eunwoo himself.

"You're the only pain in the butt here, [y/n]," he said, eating your snacks.

"What are you doing here?! You should be on the other side of campus!" you yelled.

"And you shouldn't be here, either," Eunwoo said with a glare.

"Can y'all go argue somewhere else? You're scaring the highschoolers away," your friend complained, nodding in the direction of some highschoolers who were hesitant to approach the snack stand because you and Eunwoo were arguing.

"Go attend to your duties, [y/n]," Eunwoo huffed, walking away from you.

You angrily stomped the ground, walking away and feeling a little embarrassed because you could feel the high schoolers watching you.

"[y/n], why won't you learn from Eunwoo a bit? I understand that he's the president and you're only the vice, but you could have at least prepared what we needed you to prepare!" the director of your department told you, shaking her head at you.

You tried to contain yourself and looked down as you rolled your eyes. The only reason Eunwoo was more prepared than you were today was because he had stolen what you prepared and claimed it was his instead.

"I understand, I'm sorry."

"You're at risk of getting your position taken away, [y/n]! This is a warning."

After leaving the director's office, you were met wih a grinning Eunwoo who was sat on the couches in the lobby.

"What are you looking at?" you asked him.

"Thanks for these papers, [y/n]," he said, holding up your hard work.

"I didn't even give them to you. You took them from me, but okay," you said, leaving him there.

You walked to a coffee shop that was on the same floor to get something to refresh yourself. Since it was so early in the morning on a weekend, the building was fairly quiet and empty. It wasn't hard to overhear a conversation.

"Eunwoo, I think [y/n] has not been taking their vice president duties seriously these days. Do you think we should find someone else?"

The director's voice.

"Do the other members of student council agree?"

Eunwoo's voice.

"I haven't spoken to them-"

"Then [y/n] remains as vice. I haven't seen any sort of slacking or a lack of seriousness from them, and I don't think anyone else is fit for the role."

Did Eunwoo just... compliment and defend you?

You turned around with your drink in hand to find that it was indeed Eunwoo talking with your director. Then, you quickly scurried away to avoid being seen by them, feeling very confused.

"Cheers!" everyone shouted around the table, clinking their glasses together before downing their contents. After a successful open house, everyone had gathered at a bar to celebrate. You squirmed in your spot beside Eunwoo, feeling uncomfortable. He rolled his eyes at you and shifted even closer to you, leaving you with less room to sit than before.

"Is that better?" he asked, smirking at you.

You frowned, pressing your foot on top of his clearly new shoes.

"Is that better?" you asked him.

"Why are you guys so close? Are you about to kiss or something?" one of the student council members asked.

"No! Ew-"

"And what if we did?" Eunwoo asked, glaring at the member.

What the hell?

The member looked down at their drink, unsure of what to say. The atmosphere grew awkwardly quiet until someone asked if everyone wanted more drinks, to which there were murmurs of agreement.

"Hey, [y/n], I overheard the director talking with you in her office today. Did she really threaten to kick you out as vice president?" the student council member next to you asked.

You laughed awkwardly, already feeling uncomfortable.

"Yeah... I'm working hard, though! So I'm sure it won't happen."

"Are you sure? You weren't able to prepare what the director asked you to, and there's been countless times where Eunwoo has always had to do things for you..."

You were in such shock. Everyone in student council knew that Eunwoo just acted like he was on top of everything, meanwhile you were doing all the work. Even for his grades, he never studied but was at the top because of all the people who handed him study notes and past tests to get his attention. You worked so hard...

"... I get that you're the vice president, but shouldn't you be trying a little harder? Hey... [y/n]? Are you crying?"

You couldn't help it... it had all been building up until now. You didn't even realize you were crying, though, until this guy pointed it out to you. His hand on your shoulder felt like it was suffocating you...

"What the hell have you been on about, you idiot?" Eunwoo growled from your right. You turned to him and he was glaring at the boy who had been talking to you.

"I-"

"Don't even talk. There's nothing but garbage coming out of your mouth. Come on, [y/n], let's go," Eunwoo said, grabbing your hand and guiding you out of there.

You were extremely confused, but more than anything, you were just sad. So you didn't stop Eunwoo when he led you outside of the bar.

"Is everything okay? Take some deep breaths." Eunwoo was staring right into your eyes as he spoke to you, reaching out his thumb to gently wipe your tears away.

"What's... going on?"

"That idiot was saying some useless garbage so I brought you out here. I can leave if you want to be alone-"

"No! No, please don't go," you begged, holding on tightly to his sleeve. You couldn't help it, you completely broke down and found yourself sobbing into his chest. What was weirder was that Eunwoo had his arms wrapped around you and was rubbing your back...

After you calmed done, Eunwoo insisted that he walk you back to your dorm.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" you asked him, sniffling quietly.

He threw his hands in his pockets and stared at the ground.

"I don't like it when people are mean to you, [y/n]," he said quietly.

"But you're mean to me all the time!" you pointed out.

"You're the one who started being mean to me!" Eunwoo whined.

You stopped walking.

"I started being mean to you? Eunwoo, you know you're the one who threw a basketball at me that day and never apologized, right?"

Eunwoo stared at the dark sky for a moment as he tried to remember what you were talking about. Then his eyes widened and he looked at you.

"Oh... I swear, there's an explanation-"

"There better be!"

"This is going to sound dumb but... I felt too shy to look at you... which is why I avoided you like that."

What? Eunwoo, the most cocky and arrogant president you know, was shy?

"Why in the world were you shy, Eunwoo?"

It wasn't just the slight breeze in the air that was turning his cheeks red, now. He was about to tell you something important.

"Ever since the first day at the orientation week... I thought you were really... attractive. And then, learning about you through all the icebreakers just made things worse. I don't really know how to handle my feelings, so maybe that's why I came across as so rude."

There was silence as you processed everything and starting walking to your dorm again.

"Eunwoo... if you had just cleared this all up a little sooner, we wouldn't have been like cats and dogs," you said, laughing nervously and touching the back of your neck.

"I know, I'm sorry."

"Do you still... like me?" you asked him quietly.

Eunwoo paused before answering. "I don't think I could ever just stop liking you."

Both of you giggled at his cheesy words. You felt like you were on another planet. The boy you'd hated so much turned out to have a crush on you?

"You don't need to tell me how you feel anytime soon. I know there's been a lot of misunderstandings... so let's just clear those up first?" Eunwoo cocked his head to one side.

"If you get to my dorm faster than me, I'll consider it!" you yelled before running in the direction of your residence building.

"I don't even know where you live!" Eunwoo yelled after you, following you along.

"What kind of president are you? You don't even know where your vice president lives?" you yelled back, sticking your tongue out at him.

Suddenly, Eunwoo caught up to you and started racing ahead. Of course he knew where you lived. He liked you.

778 notes · View notes

calpalirwin · 3 years

Text

Spotlight

Summary: Ashton gets back to his craft

Word Count: 2.3k

And away, and away we go!

To say that watching Ashton under a year and a half of quarantine and uncertainty was difficult would be an understatement. Watching him ride out his lowest lows as he chased for the slightest high broke your heart in ways you didn’t know were possible. Sure, there were the moments when you thought he was pulling himself out of his personal pit of hell- the immediate release of CALM a week into lockdown, the creation of Superbloom and its release, along with the mini virtual concert. But oftentimes your usually happy-go-lucky sweetheart of a boyfriend was incredibly short-tempered, the smallest of things igniting a wildfire of frustration that tested both your patience and relationship with him.

It was a tense year and a half, filled with screaming matches, tears falling like broken glass, and slamming doors. But it was also a year and a half of heartfelt confessions, new routines allowing for renewed intimacy, and selfish desires that the time would stay stopped.

Oh, but the way he lit up like the sky on the 4th of July when he learned the news that he could go back into the studio with his boys? Worth every damn thing watching his grin as he circled the date on the calendar in a wide streak of black Sharpie.

And when those studio days turned into rehearsal days? You thought he’d fall apart as he tried to spit out the words.

“BABE!” Ashton’s voice boomed the second the front door opened, loud with excitement.

“What?” you asked, coming to greet him.

Your own cheeks hurt looking at the grin plastered across his face. “Rehearsals!” he whooped.

“Are you serious?!”

“Yeah!”

“For tour?!”

“Yes and no. We have a show!”

“ASHTON!”

“I KNOW!” His arms were around you in a flash, picking you up and spinning you around as both of your laughs bounced off the walls.

“Dizzy, dizzy!” you called out to him still laughing.

He set you down on your feet, and then his lips were on yours in a bruising kiss. “FUCK!” he couldn’t stop laughing or smiling. “Baby, I’m so excited. I have a show. With the boys. It’s real. We’re back. If we get to do this show… God, baby, it changes everything. I- It means we really get to go back. We won’t have to keep postponing our tour. We can put out the new album. And…” the words fell in a flurry as the reality of what he’d been missing for so long being within arm’s reach again set in. A rogue tear rolled down his cheek. “Fuck, I’ve missed this feeling.”

“I’ve missed seeing you this happy,” you smiled at him, catching the tear with your thumb before brushing his wild hair from his face.

“You’re coming right?” he asked, his smile faltering as his voice took on a note of fear.

“To the show? Of course, babe. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

His lips curved upwards again, but it didn’t quite match the smile he’d been wearing when he first came bounding through the door. “And tour? If we get that far? If we get that lucky?”

“Stop,” you said, holding his face in your hands. “Stop the spiral. Let yourself be excited.”

“But-” The doubts were beginning to rear their ugly head. He had already allowed himself to believe the covid shit was behind him once before.

“I don’t want the rug pulled out from under you either,” you told him softly. “But allow yourself this moment, Ash. And we’ll deal with the rest later.”

His eyes fluttered shut for a second as he leaned into your touch. When he opened them again, the kaleidoscope of colors that were his hazel eyes were soft. “I-” he started, words of how sorry he was for all the times he snapped harshly at you, how grateful he was for you toughing it out with him, and how he selfishly wasn’t ready to start missing you again a trapped jumble on his tongue. “I-” he tried again.

“I know,” you interrupted, stretching upwards to nudge your nose against his. “I know.”

~~~

While he hadn’t been able to get the words out, he found a different way of expressing himself in a way that left you both breathless and at a loss for words.

And when you woke the next morning, rolling over to find his side of the bed empty, despite your excitement for Ashton, your heart ached for the reality of what was to come of him stepping back into the spotlight.

But the bed was still warm, suggesting it hadn’t been long since he had left, and when you stumbled downstairs, you easily found him standing in the kitchen, his back to you as he poured coffee into two mugs. “Morning,” you greeted, wrapping your arms around his bare waist and pressing a kiss between his shoulders.

“Oh, hey,” he said, turning in your arms to kiss the top of your head. “You coulda stayed in bed. I was bringing up the coffee.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he giggled. “What? Did you think I’d left already?”

Your shoulders shrugged as you let go of your hold on him. “Yeah.”

“Without saying goodbye, first? C’mon, you gotta know me better than that.”

You shrugged again, reaching around him for one of the coffee mugs. “Well, thanks,” you murmured, taking a sip.

He frowned as he grabbed the other mug. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Y/N… C’mon, we’ve been stuck together in this house forever now. You think I don’t know when you’re hiding from me?”

“I- It’s nothing. When do you gotta meet with the guys?”

“Not for a while. Stop deflecting.”

You sighed. “The bed was empty, okay? Let’s face it. For the shitshow that’s covid, it gave us a lot of time. A lot of time we don’t normally get to share because of our jobs. And that’s all I want to say about it because I’m happy, Ash. I’m happy you have studio days and rehearsal days again. I’m happy you have shows again.”

“But you can be happy for me, and pissed about an empty bed. You can be both at the same time.”

“Yeah, but it makes me feel fuckin’ lousy, Ash. Like this is the reality of your job. We’re not strangers to it. I’m just being selfish.”

He chuckled, taking your coffee mug from you and setting it along with his on the counter. “I’m not ready to miss you either.” Then his arms were pulling you in close to him, his hold both strong and gentle. “Wanna be selfish with me before I have to leave?” he asked, his breath hot on your neck, the kiss hungry as it traveled up the column of your throat to your lips. “Be selfish with me until we can’t.”

And how could you deny Ashton’s request when he held you, looked at you, and loved you the way he did?

~~~

A couple hours after Ashton left for rehearsals, you left yourself to go surprise him. The house was too quiet without him, and rehearsals were different from regular studio time. More special in a way you couldn’t put words to.

For some reason you were nervous as you pushed your way into the studio, his head snapping up at the sound of the door. “Baby!” he grinned up at you from where he was sitting on the floor next to Calum. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d surprise you guys. Bring you all some lunch,” you said, holding up a food bag as proof.

“You’re the greatest,” he beamed, pushing himself up onto his feet and crossing the room to you.

“So you rehearse on the floor?” you questioned with a teasing smile.

“Well, we were taking a small break,” he told you with a sheepish smile.

“We were actually ordering food, but this is way better,” Michael chimed in, taking the bag of food from you, and giving you a quick hug hello. “Ash is right. You’re the greatest.”

“Yeah, best surprise ever, especially for Mike,” Luke laughed and Calum nodded in agreement.

Happy chatter ensued as food was passed around, Ashton sitting as close to you as he could, his nerves making the tips of his fingers shake. “You okay?” you whispered, gripping one of his hands tightly in yours.

He nodded. “Yeah. Just nerves about getting back into things.” He gave you a quick kiss before getting up to go sit at his drum kit. And how he could manage to look both so at home and so vulnerable at the same time was beyond you.

You looked over at the other guys, wondering if they were seeing what you were seeing, and Calum nodded knowingly at you while Luke and Michael offered up sad smiles of confirmation. Sighing, you got up and made your way over to Ashton, wedging yourself between him and his drum kit. “Talk to me,” you urged softly.

“It’s been a long time.”

“It has,” you agreed. “But you didn’t stop being a musician. You still played. You still made music this whole time.”

“What if we mess up? What if I mess up?”

“What if you don’t?”

He scoffed lightly. “I’m being serious, Y/N.”

“I am, too. Look, Ash. These are your boys. Playing music with them is what you were born to do. And I’m pretty sure they’re having the same worry as you about messing up. And it’s okay if you guys mess up. That’s why you’re having rehearsals.”

He let out a slow breath. “Yeah… Suppose you’re right.” He pushed his hands through his hair, taking another slow breath. “Okay. Okay, I can do this. Muscle memory.”

“Muscle memory,” you smiled reassuringly at him, draping your arms across his shoulders and leaning your forehead against his. “You got this, baby.”

“Will you stay? Having an audience… having you… It might help.”

“Of course, babe.”

~~~

The night of the show, you stood off to the side and out of the way as Ashton and the guys talked with the press about being back after almost two years of not playing a show together. You watched with a smile at the way Calum and Luke started humming their responses, and Michael took over the conversation when Ashton started fidgeting with his hands, giving Ashton that brief pause to collect his thoughts and settle his nerves.

“Muscle memory,” you reminded him softly when they all came back to prepare to go on stage.

“Muscle memory,” he nodded, shrugging out of his jacket. But his hands still shook as he draped it over a chair. So you grabbed them, holding them still in your own hands. “Fuck, I hate this,” he whispered in defeat.

“You’re allowed to be nervous, Ash.”

“I know. I just hate it. Of all the feelings I’ve missed, this isn’t one of them.”

“So focus on that. Focus on how great it feels knowing that there’s a crowd of people out there waiting for you guys. And fuck the rest.”

“It really helps that you’re here, you know that?”

“I wouldn’t miss this moment for anything.”

“I-” he started, but a stagehand came rushing through, ushering them towards the stage.

You kissed him swiftly. “I love you, too. Now go be amazing.”

Again, with a smile plastered on your face, you watched them from the wings. It was effortless how easily they fell back into performing live with each other, as if covid had never stopped them. The perfect team of brothers.

Ashton’s eyes were lit up like a Christmas tree when he came backstage, a sweaty smile on his own face as he hugged you tight. “That was amazing!” you beamed.

“That!” He pointed a finger towards that stage. “That I’ve missed!”

“This!” You grabbed his face in your hands. “This is the Ash I’ve missed.”

“I was trying to tell you something before I went on. Something I’ve been trying to tell you for a while now actually.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah… I, um… Fuck, I dunno why this is so hard for me. But I wanted to say thanks. I know I haven’t been the easiest person to love lately. I know I’ve been more moody than usual under covid, and I know I’ve taken a lot of my frustration out on you.”

“Ash-”

He held up a finger, cutting you off. “Lemme finish. I- I know I hit some of the lowest lows I’ve hit in a long time because of covid. And I know this shit’s far from over, and there’s probably going to be more rough moments as we get back into the swing of things after so long. But thank you, okay? I dunno what I would’ve done without you.”

“Ash-”

“Hold on. There’s one last thing. When we go on tour, I want you to come with us. If you can, of course. I just… I’d rather not miss you if I don’t have to. I- I need you. In a way I never thought I’d need someone. And for reasons I don’t think I’ll ever understand. But I need you.”

“Can I talk now?”

“Yeah.”

“For as much as covid has sucked, it gave us a lot of time to be together. A lot of time we didn’t have before.”

“You told me that already.”

“Shush. It’s my turn. We’ve seen the best and the worst of each other. And for all the times we could have given up, we didn’t. Every unlovable moment, we just loved each other harder. And for a while I wondered why that was. And it’s like you said. For whatever reason, I need you the same way you need me. And getting to see you get back to being this happy again… I wanna keep seeing it. And I wanna keep seeing it in ways that don’t keep us apart. So… I was talking with my boss, and with the band, and your team. And this was supposed to be a surprise but…”

“You’re coming on tour?” he interrupted, voice full of hope.

“I’m coming on tour,” you grinned.

Tag List

@aquarius-hood1996 @creator-appreciator @philthepegacorn @myfavfanficsever @cxddlyash @youngblood199456 @stormrider505 @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @hoodhoran @metalandboybands @maybeememez @kaitieskidmore1 @binxiboo

#spotlight #ashton irwin #ashton irwin fic #ashton irwin x reader #5sos #calpal irwin

118 notes · View notes

celestialrry · 3 years

Text

nerves

4.8k

HELLLLO IM WRITING THIS INTRO AND POSTING THIS WHILE FALLING ASLEEP SO ILL POST ALL THE DETAILS ADN ADD THIS TO MU MASTERLIST LATER I LOVE TOU ALL THANK YOU FOR FOLOWING AND REBLOGGIN KISSES FOT YOU ALL (this is like right after release of hs1 harry I think hope you enjoy mwah)

summary: Actress!Y/N goes onto a talk show, and the host has a surprise for her.

warnings: cursing, kinda sorta an anxiety attack?

Y/N was nervous.

This would only be the 5th talk show she’s ever gone on alone after being in the spotlight for a few years when her acting career took off. She started off with indie films and soon made her way to the red carpet, working with esteemed actors and actress’s she could only ever dream of meeting. It was pure bliss.

Of course, fame came with other struggles like hate from the media and random people on twitter, but at the end of the day she was so grateful she had the opportunity to be in the business. She loved getting into a character, finding out what makes them click, and fully emerging herself in whatever film she’s in. At the moment, she was promoting her new film, and being the lead, she had gone on a few talk show’s by herself, but they never failed to make her sick to her stomach. Having no one to turn to when it gets awkward, even not having body heat by her side in front of a live audience and a professional host made her body rack with goosebumps.

“Miss L/N?”

Her head turned towards the door of the dressing room she had been sitting in for 15 minutes alone, trying to get her nerves down. “Yes?’ She responded flashing a forced smile to the assistant standing in the door way. “They’re ready for you.” She nodded her head and stood up, brushing the non-existent dust off her long dress and tumbled a bit on her heels to follow the assistant that was already walking towards the side stage.

They instructed her to wait until her name was called, then walk onto stage and take a seat and have the show progress. So Y/N stood there, biting her bottom lip that was coated with clear gloss and her arms crossed around her waist, her heel covered toe tapping the floor in anticipation.

“Now welcome our very special, and gorgeous guest, Y/N L/N!” She heard Jimmy Kimmel announce and took a short breath before stepping through the automatically opening curtains. She smiled and waved at the people sitting in the audience, happy to see people supporting her, and greeted Jimmy before taking a seat on the loveseat closest to his desk.

“Y/N! Welcome, how are you feeling tonight?” He flashed a comforting smile at her.

She chuckled a bit due to her inability to not laugh in uncomfortable situations. “I’ll be honest with you Jimmy,” She said, adjusting herself in the seat. “M’ pretty nervous.”

“Nervous?” He asked. “Now, why would 2 time Emmy Nominee Miss Y/N L/N be nervous?” Jimmy teased.

Her eyes fell to the floor and her cheeks heated up before looking back at him. “Because,” She dragged out. “It’s always nerve-racking being on live TV.”

He just nodded and made a joke about feeling the same even though he does this every week.

“How are you feeling tonight?” She asked.

He smiled before resting his arms on his desk. “I’m feeling good, I have a surprise for you later, but I’m supposed to ask the questions now, will you let me?”

“Of course I will.” She smiled back.

Y/N met Jimmy the first year she really became “famous” and he had always been her favorite late-night talk show host just because he was never invasive or creepy. Her standards for hosts were quite low at this point. They continued on, promoting her new movie and such before he settled back in his seat.

“So.” He said.

“So.” She said back, raising a brow.

“I hate to ask you this, but I honestly am curious myself,” He began, and her anxiety creeped up just a bit. “Now, we dug through your old interviews, and it seems in every single one, when asked if you had a celebrity crush, your answer was Harry Styles?”

She simply nodded, her cheeks heating up again, and a small smile creeping onto her face at his name.

“I see that smile, Y/N.” Jimmy said, and she let out a laugh, her smile now wide.

“So, do you mind telling us why you like him so much, or should I say love him so much?” His brow raised.

Y/N laughed a bit more, just at her nerves, and took a breath. “Um, he’s always been such an inspiration for me to actually chase my career, I mean I knew him from when he was on X-Factor to be honest. Binged that show all the time when I was in middle school and to see a boy just 2 years older than me just go straight into being in one of the biggest boy-bands in the world was insane. He’s just so passionate about what he does and I admire him for that. Uh- from what I can tell he’s just very charming, sweet, funny, caring, and…” She trailed off her rant, biting her bottom lip just a tad.

“And?”

“He’s incredibly attractive.” She finished a smile on her face as she glanced at the floor again.

“Understandable. I think he’s a good looking man myself, met him a few times and got flustered,” Jimmy jokes before looking at Y/N. “What if I told you he was the surprise I had for you?”

Her brows furrow as she looks at the man sitting across from her. “What? Do you mean like a video-” She feels a tap on her shoulder.

Y/N turns around, still massively confused, and then she sees him.

Harry standing in a simple black suit and white button up, only a few of the buttons actually buttoned and her jaw drops. “Hello.” He says, smiling at her.

Her eyes are wide and she looks like a dear in headlights before her face falls into her hands, elbows resting on her knees, her breath erratic. “No, this isn’t- no. He’s not here.” She says into her hands and the crowd laughs. Everyone laughs.

“M’a bit offended you think I’m not really here, love.” Harry grins, and she pulls her face out of her shaking hands to see him.

She opens her mouth to say something and nothing comes out.

Harry Styles, her celebrity crush since the ripe age of 14, a crush thats lasted 8 years being 22 now, and she’s only seen him on screens her entire life. “Fuck.” Was all she can say. He laughs a bit at her starstruck appearance and turns to Jimmy. “She’s not normally like this, right?”

“Right.” The host jokes, looking back at the girl on the couch, and his smile diminishes a bit. Her eyes are watering and she’s trying to keep her composure but her bottom lip is trembling and Jimmy’s now worried he’s about to have a sobbing woman on live TV.

“You okay Y/N?” Jimmy asks and her head quickly turns to him and then back to Harry. “I-fuck, I’m sorry.” She tries to laugh it off. Tries not to think about how the man she’s loved even before she knew what love truly was, was standing in front of her right now.

“Don’t be sorry.” Harry says, slightly frowning but trying to keep a happy face. He’s standing in front of a girl he’s adored ever since he watched her first movie, for Christs sake, and she’s silently about to break down in front of him, because of him.

Before he can even properly introduce himself, she’s standing on her heels, wobbling a bit, and looking up at him. “Can I hug you?” She mouths, not wanting her question to be picked up on the mic on the back of her dress and before her mouth even closes he’s stepping towards her, big arms wrapping around her waist. Her arms find their way around his chest and her head is resting on his shoulder and her eyes are squeezed shut and she’s mouthing “Oh my fucking god. Oh my god.” Without realizing she’s facing the audience who laugh at her inability to not fangirl. His head dips as he hugs her, reveling in her touch, and then she’s pulling away, remembering they’re on live TV and she can give him a proper hug backstage after this is over when they don’t have to worry about appearances.

She’s still reeling when his hands slide off her waist and he sticks his hand out and says “It’s so nice to meet you.” She takes his calloused hand in hers and says “Same to you.” Blinking away unshed tears.

“Shall we sit then?” He asks and she looks at Jimmy admiring the moment before back at Harry. “You’re staying?” She blurts out before shutting her mouth abruptly.

“If you want me too.” He grins that grin she’s always been infatuated by and she nods, maybe too quickly. “Of course I do- yes,” She coughs. “Yeah, uh, please, let’s.”

They both plant themselves on the loveseat, Y/N taking the spot in which she was before and Harry sitting on the other end, keeping a distance between the two. She recomposes herself and sits up. Harry looks at her for a moment before looking back at Jimmy.

“How are y’Jimmy?” He asks.

“I’m doing well, proud of myself for inviting you, you’re the one person I’ve seen make Y/N go absolutely speechless here,” Jimmy jokes and Y/N groans and smiles, leaning her top half on the arm of the chair, her face in her hands before sitting back up. “How about you, Harry?”

“M’doing well, was very excited to see Y/N here and I’d hopefully say it’s the same for her.” He smiles looking at her, dimples flashing.

“Yeah!” Her voice squeaks. “You’re right. It’s the same for me. I-” She cut’s herself off from saying she’s shitting her pants at the moment. Figuratively, of course, but it’s not very appropriate. She still can’t believe this. Twitter is going to have a field day talking about how flustered Y/N was at this moment.

“Have something you want to say, Y/N? To Harry, more specifically?” Jimmy asks.

“Um,” She begins, locking eyes with Harry. “Did you hear, what I said, um, before you walked out here?”

The green eyed man nods.

Her hands start shaking again and she awkwardly laughs. “I’m sorry you heard that.” She apologizes.

“Why are you apologizing?” Harry asks her, tilting his head and Y/N was going to pass out. “I’m glad you think all those things about me, plus, it’s a nice ego booster to hear that you think I’m ‘incredibly attractive’.” He chuckles a bit, but truthfully he was happy his celebrity crush feels the same way about him.

She just laughs back and mumbles a “Thanks.” Before Jimmy starts up a conversation about whatever was going on at the moment.

Jimmy and Harry start talking about something and Y/N nods her head and laughs when it’s appropriate but she couldn’t process anything. Her hands were interlocked, shaking in her lap, and all she could feel was Harry. Harry sitting next to her, Harry breathing next to her, Harry waving his hands around while he spoke in front of her. It was all too much.

Suddenly his knee lightly knocked against her own. She abruptly turned to look at him, but he was still looking at Jimmy. So she assumed it was a mistake, until it happened again, and this time when her eyes looked to him, his met her’s and he gently and subtly moved closer to their thighs were touching. Y/N let the leg that was crossed over her other relax and fall to the couch, only her ankles crossed, and she swore she could hear his breath stop for a moment, but it was too quiet to be sure.

A few moments after they both had gained the courage to barely revel in each others touch, Jimmy was ending the show. Y/N doesn’t remember what she said or did before the camera cut off, she vaguely remembers waving to the audience but she’s not completely sure.

And then it’s over- just like that.

“This was so fun Jimmy, thank you for inviting me on.” Harry said, standing up (reluctantly) and going to give Jimmy a hug. Y/N on the other hand was watching the interaction and it all hit her like a wave again. Harry fucking Styles was standing in front of her. The men both turn to her as she stands up and she gives a weak smile and mumbles “I forgot I needed to text my assistant, m’sorry I’ll be back.” before speed walking behind the curtain and booking it to her dressing room. She quickly flips the “Do Not Disturb” side of the sign on the door to show and closes the door behind her, her breathing accelerating.

She barely makes it to the couch before bursting out in tears.

Y/N couldn’t really put a finger on whether or not they were tears of joy, sadness, embarrassment, or a combination of all 3. She’s pretty sure it’s the latter though. She slips her heels off and lies on the couch, her hands over her face with not so silent cries as she tries to calm herself.

Meanwhile, both Harry and Jimmy sensed that Y/N wasn’t just going to text her assistant. “Do you think- do you think I said something maybe?” Harry quietly asks the late night host as they walk behind the curtain and into a quieter hallway backstage. Jimmy simply shakes his head before locking eyes with Harry. “Have you seen any of the videos where she talks about you, Harry?”

He shakes his head no and the older man pulls out his phone, doing a quick scroll of his email before finding video file and opening it. “A couple of interns here made this combination of all the times she talked about you in her interviews.”We were gonna play it as you were coming out but her manager said it would be too embarrassing.” Was the only preface Jimmy gave before clicking play.

Y/N stood in an elegant emerald colored gown just off the red carpet, all done up for her first big movie premiere. An interviewer stands in front of her, holding a mic that the woman was moving between herself and Y/N. “So Miss L/N, we need some juicy secrets from the “It-Girl” herself. Who’s your celebrity crush?” Y/N looks at the floor, a shy smile on her face as the quietly says “Harry Styles.” The interviewer’s eyes widen and she chuckles a bit. “I feel you honey, what do you like most about him?” Y/N purses her lips slightly before speaking again. “Um, everything? I think he has a really good heart.” The interviewer makes a joke about how she likes his eyes instead and Y/N laughs, but anyone could tell it was forced.

The screen begins to play another clip.

Y/N is sitting on a couch with her co-stars of a movie she did a year ago, dressed in a classy blush colored suit, and they’re all playing a game with some other talk show host. “Let’s see who knows Y/N the best now, shall we?” The host asks, and looks down at the cards in his hand. “Who is her celebrity crush?” And almost immediately all of her friends were jotting down their answers on a white board. “That was fast,” The host laughs, as does everyone else. “Okay everyone, flip it around.” ‘Harry Styles’ was written on every single board. “Oh my god.” She smiles wide out of embarrassment and puts her face in her hands.

It reminds Harry of what she did when she first saw him.

“Y/N! Looks like you’re absolutely smitten with Harry Styles, aren’t you?” The host asks, and before she could even open her mouth, a co-star of hers was already speaking. “She’d play his songs in her trailer in the morning, full volume, and sing them as loud as she could. It was a good way to wake us all up.” He jokes, and everyone laughs at that. “Whenever he’d post a photo on instagram, or tweet something, I’d see tears in her eyes.” Another co-star speaks up. The audience laughs again and she looks to them. ‘I’m serious! Y/N absolutely adores him.” By this time Y/N’s face was out of her hands and she was sinking into the couch. “Are you embarrassed, Y/N/?” The host jokes “Of course not, well I didn’t want to get absolutely exposed, but I’m not embarrassed to be a fan, could never be embarrassed to be a fan of him, he’s… he’s amazing.”

The phone then fades into yet another clip.

This time, Y/N is sitting in a stool, doing the Wired Autocomplete Interview, and she tears off the second paper of the question, “Is Y/N L/N…” . “Is Y/N L/N,” she reads and the paper catches after the word “dating” is revealed. She looks up at the screen, a twinkle in her eyes as she shoots a close-mouthed smile at the camera. She turns back to the board and rips the paper off, struggling a bit and laughing, until it’s revealed. “Is Y/n L/N dating… Harry Styles” She bursts out laughing, her free hand clutching her stomach.

Harry frowns a but at this, and he didn’t feel like thinking more about why.

“Um,” She begins, “Sorry, I just- do I really talk about him, that much? S’a bit concerning.” She mumbles to herself. “Yeah, no, I’m not dating Harry Styles, he would never. Though, I like how people think it could be a possibility, thats quite funny. I’ll take the… hidden compliment, is that even the right phrase?”

The screen goes to another clip but Jimmy pauses it there and turns off his phone, turning to Harry. “You didn’t do anything Harry, it’s just you being here, she’s probably overwhelmed and-“

“Mr. Kimmel? Jones needs you.” Someone calls out to him down the hall and Jimmy slips his phone in this pocket and sighs. “Sorry, gotta handle this, thank you, for coming.”

“It’s okay,” Harry assures him, “Thanks for having me.” And at that Jimmy rushes down the hall in search of Jones, and Harry stands in the same spot

Harry knows how much he means to his fans, he’s seen them sob at concerts, break down at meet and greets, and when they tell him how much they love him when they run into him on the street. He knows this. But this felt different, for some reason. Maybe it was the burning feeling in his chest when she laughed off how he would never be with her, for what particular reason he has no clue (or just doesn’t want to address it), or how he couldn’t help but pop a dimple when he heard she loves his music. He wasn’t sure.

What he was sure of though, is that he needed to speak to her again, hug her for longer, actually get to know Y/N. So he walked into the main back room, walking down different halls until he came across the one that read “Dressing Room #4” and Y/N’s name scribbled in messy handwriting on the white board underneath. He knocked a little rhythm, and waited.

Y/N was still crying, to put it lightly. Maybe hyperventilating was the right word, because she was breathing quite fast, and there was a steady stream of tears flowing down her cheeks. She heard the knocks and attempted to calm herself down a bit, yelling out a “One second!” Before wiping under her eyes and walking to open the door. “Eliana,” She began, ready to wave her assistant way (not that she didn’t adore her, but Y/N needed to be alone before talking about everything), “Can you come back in like 15 minutes, I’m sorry I just need to-”

Her mouth closed when she saw Harry outside of her door, his small smile quickly fading into a frown as he took in her state. “Y/N I wanted to- are you okay?” He asked, stepping a bit closer, trying not to push any boundaries. When she didn’t respond and he saw her bottom lip quiver a bit, his chest clenched. “Can I come in? Can we talk?” He gently asked, eyes running over her puffy eyes, tear stained cheeks, and disheveled appearance.

She nodded and he walked in, and she gently shut the door behind him. He turned around to look at her and when his eyes met her’s, she couldn’t take it anymore. She let out a gut-wrenching sob and her face fell in her hands as she shook her head. “I-I’m so sorry, I’m sorry.” She choked out and he stepped towards her, his hand coming to rest on her elbow. “Y/N, please, don’t apologize.” And without thinking he took the last step towards her and wrapped his arms around her, holding her firmly, one of his hands cradling the back of her head. Her hands fell from her face and she held him back, arms wrapping tightly around his torso yet again.

As she cried into his chest, he mumbled a soft, “Breathe for me, love.”, and she tried to get her breathing to match his own deep breathes. “I’m sorry,” Y/N says for the millionth time. “I told you to stop apologizing, Y/N, you haven’t done anything wrong.” He frowns to himself, that burning feeling in his chest again. She reluctantly pulls away, and his hands remain on her arms as her own come up to wipe the tears flowing out of her eyes.

“You didn’t sign up to be here and have to deal with a crying fan, Harry.” Y/N sighs, finally looking up at him.

“Hey, I came because I wanted to see you, I’ve seen your movies and I think everything you’re absolutely incredible at what you do, and when Jimmy called asking if I could come to surprise you I jumped at the chance to finally meet you. I know what I signed up for.” He says, his thumbs rubbing the skin of her arms gently.

At his words she let out another sob, her shaking hands coming up to cover her face for a moment yet again. Harry’s eyes widened, he was telling the honest truth, and he didn’t think he said anything wrong. Y/N however, was seeing in person, how king he truly was, and it was just another reality check that the Harry she’s loved for so long really is the same in real life; it was too much to handle. “Thank you,” She sniffles, looking up at him again, meeting his piercing green eyes. “I just, I’ve adored you for years, still do, and I never thought I’d meet you, even after I started getting ‘known’, I always thought you were like, too perfect to be real, and now you’re here and you’re real, and y’know when you meet a celebrity who seems so sweet in interviews and all that but they turn out to be an absolute prick? It’s not like that, you’re the same person I’ve loved over a screen, I- you’ve been my inspiration for fucking years and I don’t know. It’s just a lot.”

Now her hands were on his arms and they stood there for a moment, just looking at each other.

“M’not perfect, Y/N.” Harry says softly. Y/n chuckles a bit, glancing to the side before meeting his eyes yet again. “I know, I know the ‘nobody’s perfect’ crap, but if you’re insistent on it, then I think you’re the closest thing there is to perfect, Harry.”

His cheeks turn pink at her confession, and a small smile weaves its way onto his face. “Thank you,” He finally says, before bringing her into another hug, this time her arms wrapped around his neck, and he bends down a bit to hold her tighter. “For everything you said, seriously, you’ve got no idea how much it means t’me.” He admits, still reveling in her touch. She slowly pulls away, noting in her head that he never seems to be the one to let go first. “Of course, wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.” She smiles weakly, still drained from all the emotions flowing through her. He just smiles at that, before his hand drags down her arm and he hold her hand, wordlessly pulling her over to sit on the couch.

He doesn’t let go of her hand as they sit quite close facing each other. “Do y’wanna hear a secret? It might make you feel better.” He suggests, cursing himself for being willing to do anything to see her smile fully. “I wish I could lie and say that it’s something I wouldn’t know, but I think I know a bit too much about you.” She says, letting out a small laugh, and he does too. “I promise you don’t know this.” He mumbles.

“Okay, go for it.” She says, holding his hand a bit tighter.

“Well, after you bolted here, Jimmy showed me a few of your interviews, and I wanted to tell you that you’re my celebrity crush too.”

Her jaw drops and her eyes widen, a face that looks eerily similar to when she saw him for the first time just an hour prior. “You saw my interviews?” She gasps, her voice cracking at the embarrassment of him seeing her shamelessly confessing her love for him about a million times. It was safe to say she didn’t hear the rest of his confession.

“That’s what you’re focusing on here?” Harry laughs and raises a brow at Y/N.

“What else is there to focus on,” She groans, taking her hand out of his and burying her face into her hands yet again. “I can’t believe Jimmy showed you that, I’m never coming on this show again.”

Harry grins, a dimple popping as he gently wraps his arms around her wrists, pulling her hands off her face. “Did y’hear what I said after that?” He asks softly, his eyes bring into her own. She shakes her head “no” in response and he takes a quick breath before telling her yet again.

“I said, you’re my celebrity crush too. I’ve watched everything you’ve been in and I think y’are absolutely amazing, and I would be lying if I said I didn’t think you’re beautiful, inside and out.”

Y/N’s jaw drops for the thousandth time that night.

“You’re fucking with me.” She deadpans, her face blank and mind swimming with emotions.

He frowns and squeezes her hands. “M’not, swear to you.”

She shakes her head in denial. There’s no way she was Harry Style’s celebrity crush. Not in a million years would she ever think those words would be spoken, much less even thought of.

“You don’t believe me?” Harry asks, his head tilting a bit to the side.

“I believe tha you’re just too nice and you feel bad for me, so that’s why you’re telling me this.” Y/N admits to him, a sad smile on her face.

“Really?” He asks, letting go of her hands and bringing one of his own to his pocket.

“Really. I appreciate it, I do, but you don’t have to try and make me feel less humiliated, I think we’ve already passed the point of no return.” Y/N says, laughing a bit.

“Mmm, okay,” He smirks. “Well that just won’t do. May I have your number?”

She raises a brow as he pushes his phone into her hands, already pulled up on a new contact. She types in her number and “#1 fan” in the name and hand the phone back to him. Harry laughs when he sees the contact name and saves it to his phone, then putting it back in his pocket.

“What was that?”

“What was what?” Harry muses, a teasing glint in his eye.

She purses her lips. “Why did you just ask for my number?”

“So I can contact you of course,” Harry smiles. “How else am I supposed to set up another date with you?”

“Another?” Y/N questions, her lips turning up.

“’m a gentleman of course, would never ask you out on a first date over the phone,” Harry calmly explains. “So would you do me the honor of accompanying me to dinner tomorrow night?”

Y/n hesitates, unsure if this was still an ask out of pity. “You can meet me at my house, of course if you’re comfortable, and I’ll order us takeout to eat on my porch.” He continues, getting more exciting as he imagines how the date would go.

“What makes you think I’d say yes?” She teases and his mouth gapes.

“Oh fuck off.”

#I just used jimmy cause I didn't feel like making my own host up lolz #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles #harrys styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction #im literally half asleep but I needed to post this tonight #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n

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adapembroke · 3 years

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The Best Self-Care Routine For Your Moon Sign

If you’ve ever read an article about self-care and felt like it was adventures in missing the point for you, you’re not alone. Just like one-size-fits-all clothes are a myth, one-size-fits-all self-care routines aren’t going to work for everyone.

In astrology, the moon describes the things you need to be happy. It is your personal recipe for comfort and well-being.

In this article, I talk about what a daily routine of self-care looks like for each of the astrological signs.

Moon in Aries

Aries is a stress magnet. With the moon in Aries, it’s essential for you to build activities into your routine that help burn off stress.

In the morning… Start your day with a quick yoga routine or an adaptogen-filled smoothie.

At work… It’s easy for you to fall into a bad posture or unconsciously clench your muscles when you’re stressed out at work. Make sure to take a few minutes throughout the day to stretch and move your body—especially if your job requires you to sit for long periods of time.

At lunch… Fuel up on food that will give you energy, and take a few minutes to do deep breathing exercises. If you have a hard time sitting still long enough to meditate, try taking a walk or doing a simple mindfulness practice.

After work… It’s important to communicate to your body when stress is over. If you find your work or your commute stressful, do something that marks the transition from work-time to home-time like changing your clothes or taking a shower.

On your days off… Look for adventures. You weren’t made to be bored, and there’s a big, wide world out there to explore.

Moon in Taurus

Earthy Taurus moons feel best when you are in your body, and it feels good. You weren’t born on this earth to be a stress-ball, and the more you lean into that, the happier you’ll be.

In the morning… Try to give yourself plenty of time to get through your morning routine. Taurus is a slow sign naturally, and you thrive on calm. Having a few minutes before you begin your day to drink your coffee before you have to start anything important will do a lot for your mood.

At work… Resist the temptation to give into productivity culture. You work best when you’re able to work at your own pace, even if that’s slow and steady. The time other people spend healing from burnout is time you can use to catch up.

At lunch… If there’s anything about your job that is physically uncomfortable, spend a few minutes getting away from that thing, if you can. Otherwise, eat something delicious and take a walk outside when the weather is nice.

After work… Take care of your body. Taurus is the most embodied sign in the zodiac, and it’s important for you to make time in your routine to feel good every day, even if it’s as simple as switching to the comfy shoes instead of the ones that pinch.

On your days off… Spend as much time as you can outside in nature. Taurus gets a lot from connecting with animals, so spend some time at the park watching people walk by with their dogs.

Moon in Gemini

Gemini is the sign of the conversationalist. Gemini moons are happiest when you feel like you are thinking quickly and on top of your game.

In the morning… Take a deep breath. You might be tempted to do All The things, but you don’t have to jump into everything right away. All you have to do right now is breathe.

At work… You might do your best work by going along with the task that is most immediate or urgent, but it’s important to remember that your priorities are important, too. Make a list of a few things you think are important to finish every day and do your best to make sure they don’t get lost.

At lunch… Talking with people is a very important emotional need for you. If you have a job that doesn’t allow you to talk to people while you’re working, reach out to a friend or grab a colleague for coffee.

After work… If you have a job that bores you, now is the time to stimulate your mind. Talk to people you find interesting or geek out about the thing you’re obsessed with at the moment.

On your days off… Socialize, socialize, socialize.

Moon in Cancer

Cancer is the sign of the nurturer, which means that it is extra important for you to take care of yourself. There’s a lot of pressure (especially on people of certain genders) to put everyone else’s priorities first, but you will do a better job taking care of others when you’re well taken care of first.

In the morning… Feed yourself. Literally. It sends a message to your body that you’re taking care of yourself.

At work… Honor your emotions, whatever they are. If it isn’t appropriate to express your feelings in front of your colleagues, there’s a reason the bathroom door has a lock on it.

At lunch… Find quiet if you can. If you can’t, a good pair of noise cancelling headphones works wonders.

After work… Reconnect with your feelings before you jump into anything. If your job is particularly stressful, be careful about making plans on work nights, or make sure you can back out of them. Sometimes self-care isn’t compatible with dinner parties.

On your days off… Schedule yourself some free-time alone. Ask yourself: If I was my best parent, what would I do with this time? Then do that thing.

Moon in Leo

Leo is the sign of the entertainer and the child. You have an emotional need to be seen, and you need to feel like you are making the people around you happy. When you are alone, creative self-expression feeds your soul.

In the morning… Put on something that feels like You. Other signs can get away with wearing the same gray dress slacks 6 days a week. (I’m looking at you, Capricorn.) You don’t have that luxury. A spontaneous smile when you look in the mirror is a must.

At work… You need to be in a job where your work is appreciated. If the people around you don’t get what you’re about, lunch breaks are for job hunting.

At lunch… Do something playful. Adult coloring books were made for Leo moons.

After work… If you’ve got social energy to burn, use it, baby!

On your days off… The best audience is a grateful audience. Take a few hours to volunteer for a cause you believe in.

Moon in Virgo

Virgo is famous for being a detail-oriented perfectionist. As a Virgo moon, you have an emotional need to feel like you have all your ducks in a row. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

In the morning… Get straight on your priorities. List making was made for Virgo moon mornings.

At work… Find yourself being especially critical of yourself (or someone else)? Make it a practice to notice three things you (or they) do right every day. You can do it. Honestly.

At lunch… Check in with yourself: How is that to-do list coming? If you’re feeling antsy because things aren’t getting done, reassess your plans and make peace with changes or set some boundaries on your afternoon.

After work… Make yourself a healthy dinner and get some exercise. …That isn’t the kind of indulgent self-care advice you usually get, but it will make you feel better.

On your days off… Connect with a craft. Anything that you really enjoy doing and can work on perfecting is good for the soul.

Moon in Libra

Libra is the sign of the scales, which means that feeling like you have balance and calm in your life is important for your emotional health.

In the morning… Get into your body and literally find your balance. Spending a minute in a one-legged yoga pose will tell your brain that it’s time to wake up and find your footing.

At work… People are going to look to you to be the peace maker. You can embrace this, or you can fight it, but your ability to see all sides of an issue is valuable. Allow yourself to shine.

At lunch… Look at your face in the mirror. If your best friend had that expression on their face, what advice would you give them? Go do that.

After work… Tend to your relationships. A healthy relationship is a happy Libra moon.

On your days off… Seek serenity, chase beauty, live poetically.

Moon in Scorpio

Scorpio is the sign of the psychologist and the sorcerer. No one feels their darkest emotions as strongly as a Scorpio moon. Tending to hard emotions is essential for your emotional health.

In the morning… Watch out for getting in the habit of waking up depressed, anxious, or angry. If you find that you’re in the same bad mood every morning, it doesn’t have to be that way. Change up your routine, and, if that doesn’t work, talk to your doctor.

At work… It can feel sometimes like you are a researcher behind a one-way mirror. You can see everyone else, but everyone else can’t see you. You can use this to your advantage. It can also make you invisible at times when people should be seeing the good work you’re doing. Make sure you’re using your super power intentionally.

At lunch… If your job denies you solitude, take it back during your breaks. Having times to sort through your feelings during the day is vital for Scorpio moons.

After work… Music is your best friend. If you have a commute, listening to music that resonates with your feelings (or, better, takes you to a better emotional place) will give you a much better evening.

On your days off… Connect with people who love your intensity. The cool kids are supposed to be easy-going, but there are people who value deep honesty. Treasure them when you find them.

Moon in Sagittarius

Sagittarius is the sign of the wanderer, the philosopher, and the student, and no sign understands that life is a journey better than Sagittarius moons. You have an emotional need to feel like life has meaning. Don’t let the cynical world out there put out your fire.

In the morning… If you don’t know the reason you got up this morning, figuring it out is the first thing on your to-do list.

At work… No matter what your job is, find some time to do something you’ve never done before, even if it’s finding out where they keep the big boxes of ketchup packets. Learning something new every day is key to your happiness.

At lunch… Do something that makes you happy. Taking a break to look at silly kitten pictures is a thing.

After work… Break up your routine and try something new. That new Ethiopian restaurant down the street really is calling your name.

On your days off… Explore, explore, explore.

Moon in Capricorn

Some of the other signs might not realize that you weren’t born wearing a business suit, but we know you have a big heart, Capricorn moon.

In the morning… The person who invented goal setting was probably a Capricorn moon. Feeling like you have a clear idea of the mountain you have to climb today is important to you.

At work… You don’t need advice. You’re a Capricorn.

At lunch… Be intentional about eating at your desk. Is it really helping, or does it just feel like it’s helping?

After work… Exists. If you let it.

On your days off… Take them.

Moon in Aquarius

Aquarius is the sign of the genius and the rebel. Aquarius moons have an emotional need to go against the crowd and do their own thing.

In the morning… If you can, try to wake up without an alarm. The feeling of starting the day on your terms will do a lot for your emotional state.

At work… Check your relationship with authority. If you are in a position where you need to take orders from someone you don’t respect, don’t underestimate the toll that will take on your emotional health, and account for that in your self-care practices.

At lunch… Think about the future. It’s something you probably enjoy doing anyway, and if you don’t like your current circumstances some healthy day-dreaming will help you make changes.

After work… Get back into your body. Aquarius’s favorite coping mechanism is dissociation, and it’s important to remember to stop when the need is gone.

On your days off… Do your own thing.

Moon in Pisces

Pisces is the sign of the mystic, the poet, and the open ocean. It is essential for Pisces moons to have free time to explore the mysteries of consciousness and Just Be.

In the morning… Start your day with meditation, even if it’s a few minutes staring out the window on the bus.

At work… Pisces has the ability to masquerade as other signs when necessary, but it’s important to remember who you are. When you’re starting to feel ungrounded lean into the place in your body that feels like the core of your being. Meditate on it for a minute. You’ll know what I’m talking about.

At lunch… Space out. If you don’t do it now, you’ll do it this afternoon. (You might do it this afternoon, anyway.)

After work… Have you meditated yet today?

On your days off… Sensory deprivation tanks were made for Pisces moons.

What about you? What’s your moon sign, and what are you doing to take care of yourself today?

If you’ve read this far, you’re pretty cool, I’d love for you to connect with me on Instagram and tell me about your plans.

#moon

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dalekofchaos · 3 years

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It wasn’t all Micah’s fault, Dutch is as much to blame.

A lot of people seem to think that Micah being the rat is what led to the fall of the Van der Linde gang. While it’s true that Micah is partly to blame. But Micah would not have an opportunity if it were not for Dutch’s vanity and pride.

Dutch is the classic delusional leader seen in many stories, novels. His fantasies become more real with each day, battle and somehow they think fortune is right around the corner. Like a gambler chasing the eternal big pot. No amount of money would ever be enough. It wasn't about money. It's was about the chase, the illusion of victory that never comes.

In Chapter 6 is when this all becomes more apparent. A switch went off in Dutch's mind, in Ch6. This wasn't the way HIS story was supposed to happen. Not to HIM. He's freaking Don Quixote, madman fighting knights in his mind and being a hero. It's fucking beautiful character writing and story arc for him.

Dutch has a discarded speech draft in horseshoe overlook that shows he’s always been a self-obsessed politician in context of the gang. He crosses out every line of humility and replaces it with narcissistic martyrdom, and avoids ever giving his audience a moment to question him or the path they’re on. He wants control over people so he can use them to realize his ambitions, and every book he reads in camp has a similar motif that explains why he thinks that way.

There are conversations between Lenny and Dutch, too. Lenny is not a fan of Evelyn Miller and tells Dutch why. Dutch is blind to the criticism. This speaks volumes about the two characters. This conversation made me realize that Dutch is used to peddling his philosophy to people who are not as well read as him; the moment he has to defend his ideas to someone more intelligent he gets defensive and angry. Because he isn't searching for a debate; he's searching for affirmation.

Everyone loves to paint Dutch and Hosea as the perfect partners and even ship them in a gay way. But Dutch doesn’t respect Hosea? Also Hosea was a happily married man. They're supposed to be partners, but he certainly doesn't treat him like one. He doesn't listen to him, he yells at him when he's doubting, coughing or in pain, and he makes him sleep on the cold, hard, dirty ground. He even openly ignores him in Colter, in front of the other men, and rides off when he tries to stop him from robbing Cornwall's train. I'm not saying they don't have a rich history or good moments, but it's a toxic relationship at best. Not exactly something worth praising. If you don't believe me, you can find unique dialogues as the game progresses, verifying he’s lost all faith in Dutch. To the point that he even starts telling other members to leave. Abigail, John, Arthur, Lenny, Tilly, Sadie -- he tells all of them to leave. During a dominoes game we played together he even said, "Maybe it's just me, but Dutch seems to be getting more and more unhinged." And as early as chapter one he told Arthur, "Try to stop Dutch getting all of you killed, because I'm about beginning to think he's finally lost his mind." There are also other conversations where Hosea’s disappointment with Dutch is far more blatant. He basically tells Arthur he’s been disillusioned for a while and wishes the gang would change, but when Arthur asks what they’d do instead of thieving, Hosea says, “I don’t know. I never knew. Guess I could never figure that out, neither.” By this point he’s just so dejected and defeatist because he knows Dutch won’t listen to him. He also goes on a whole tirade about how they’ve become “nothing but a bunch of killers”, which breaks his heart, and during a random campfire encounter he bares his soul and flat out tells the gang he no longer believes in Dutch’s “we’re above the law” philosophy. I feel like Dutch is glad Hosea was killed because the biggest doubter and thorn in his side was taken care of.

I mean this is what Hosea feels about the majority of Dutch’s plans

The moment John put his family as a priority, Dutch saw this as a threat and has been paranoid about John ever since.

He tried to play the Grays, Braithewaites and Bronte the same way he’s used Arthur, Hosea, John, Bill, Javier, and even his women like Molly, Susan and Annabelle. To Dutch, people are just set pieces in his life. He cares for them and wants them to love him, but it’s only because he’s a narcissist that needs their support to make himself stronger.

He never snapped or went crazy or turned. The Dutch that drowned Bronte is the same Dutch that had always been there. He was frustrated that he did not have the upper hand on somebody, that someone had played him the same way he plays others, and it’s probably the same reason he shot a girl in cold blood on the ferry and the same reason he shot the girl in the bank in rdr1. In that scene in rdr1, he said something like “you’re the master now John” before Dutch did what he did.

When Dutch isn’t in control, he rages against the world around him. Because as far as he’s concerned, he’s the smartest and most virtuous man around and anyone who opposes him is wrong. And anytime he loses or isn’t completely in control, somebody’s out to get him and play him like a fool. That’s why he turns on Arthur and John, and why Micah manipulates him so easily

Blackwater, going up against Cornwall, playing the inbred families and Bronte is what sealed the gang's fate.

Blackwater. If Dutch had just ignored the ferry job and let Hosea and Arthur handle their Blackwater real estate/tax scam, then they would have made it big with no one dying

If Dutch had just ignored the O'Driscolls and their train heist plans, then Cornwall would have went after Colm O'Driscoll while Dutch and the gang could have either went to Horseshoe without incident or gotten lost out West. Don’t forget it was Hosea who was against robbing that train back in chapter 1 that belonged to Leviticus Cornwall. It was after that robbery when he started sponsoring Pinkertons to find Dutch. If they stayed away from that train, they could’ve shaken off the Pinkertons easily. Hosea was right from the very start. Even before that he was saying that Blackwater robbery was a bad idea.

If Dutch or Hosea put their foot down and requested Herr Straus to stop loansharking desperate people or risk being banished from the gang, then maybe Arthur would still be alive

If they requested the aid of Trelwany to see if the rumor of Confederate gold is legit or not, then they could've realized playing one or the other family was a complete waste of time and not worth the effort.

The moment they got Jack from Bronte, they should have just left Lemoyne and never looked back.

The moment Arthur began helping the Wapiti tribe, he should have never went back to Dutch. Arthur, Charles, Sadie and John should have helped them and never looked back. John would’ve gotten Abigail and Jack out alive, while from some convincing from Arthur, Uncle and Susan would have helped Mary-Beth, Tilly and Pearson leave the gang.

Even if everything turned out the way it did but Hosea, Lenny and Sean were alive, the gang would be split. Hosea, Susan, Lenny and Sean would have sided with Arthur. There would have been a chance that Hosea and Arthur could have talked sense into Dutch, but Dutch would not want to see that he fucked up royally and costed EVERYTHING, he would stand by the choices he made, even if it meant fighting his own brother and sons.

But no, Dutch needs to feel like this big and important leader. He needs one last take. It wasn't about money, it was wanting to prove that he won and just wanting to be the big man, like Evelyn Miller or all the outlaws that are romanticized. Micah saw him for what he was and was playing him like a fiddle and milking him for all he's worth. It was so easy for Micah to play Dutch and so easy for Arthur Hosea, Sean, Lenny, Susan, Davey, Mac and Jenny to die for the sake of Dutch proving that he is a winner and that he is right. It was never about getting lost out west or even the money or even Tahiti, it was about Dutch wanting to prove he is right and all the doubters are wrong.

Dutch Van der Linde’s pride and ego is what destroyed the gang. Even if Milton did not kill Hosea, there was no stopping Dutch’s path of self-destruction.

#Red Dead Redemption #Red Dead Redemption 2 #Arthur Morgan #Dutch Van Der Linde #Hosea Matthews #John Marston #Micah Bell #Sean MacGuire #Lenny Summers #Susan Grimshaw #Charles Smith #Sadie Adler

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bleufrost · 3 years

Text

There's Just Time (A Loki x reader Fanfic)

Chapter Three: A Home Amidst Chaos

Summary: You were an explosion waiting to happen who found love in the arms of a hurricane. Loki saw you as an angel that calmed his demons. For you, he was a savior that taught you to trust your abilities, yourself, and others. When he died, you were broken. You clung to any hope possible and watched as it all fell away. With nothing left, stories from your youth flooded back of a mysterious force that controlled time and space, and you knew that you would do anything to see him again...even if that something meant teaming up with the Time Variance Authority to capture the man you love.

Loki's begins to feel things for you that he can't deny. Time can't change everything, and not all secrets can stay hidden.

Words: 8,006

Warnings: grief, mentions of self harm, violence, death

main story: prologue | chapter one | chapter two

moments in time (avengers era, prelude): part one

If the world was ending

You'd come over, right?

The sky'd be falling while I hold you tight

No, there wouldn't be a reason why

We would even have to say goodbye

“Alright, I’m finished!” Loki clicks a few more times on the outdated computer, sending something off to be graded. He sits back in his seat with his feet on your desk, sending a smile your way that is quickly diminished by the far-off look in your eyes.

“You know, if you’re anywhere near as bored as I am, we could go off and have ourselves a bit of fun elsewhere?” His eyebrows raise suggestively and you actually take him seriously for a second. Just a second.

“As lovely as that sounds, I think I’m going to pass. Besides, the faster you get through with the lessons, the faster we can actually go out and do something.” Your hand comes up and swats at his feet, but he moves them just before you make contact. He’s smiling again. The small chase is something he clearly needs in this dreary prison.

“Did they make you go through all this training as well?” Loki’s eyes follow a few people as they walk around the room. While he could be searching for an escape, you actually think that it’s more out of curiosity than anything else.

Your shoulders shrug. “Mine wasn’t quite as extensive. I think the difference in apparent moral compasses might’ve screwed you over in this case.”

Loki feigns hurt, hand clutching his heart dramatically. “Well, little one, it’s a good thing they left you in charge then, isn’t it?”

Loki props his feet back up beside you and leans back. “Do you mind if I take a break?”

You relax, mirroring his position with a sleepy smile. “Not at all. I would’ve already taken twelve if I were you.” Loki motions to the stack of magazines behind you and you offer one up to him. His hands flip it open to a random page, eyes scanning in bored interest. You miss the sound of his voice instantly.

“Hey, do you mind reading that out loud? It looks interesting.” Loki flips the page over so that you can see it. His eyebrows raise in confusion.

“You’re interested in motorized water vehicles?” You look at the bright blue page and struggle for a second to hide your distaste. No, you weren’t interested in that at all.

“Yeah, of course. They're...fascinating.” He looks totally unconvinced, but lets a small laugh fall from his lips. If nothing else, it was amusing to him.

“Well, alright.”

Loki’s lips move swiftly over the page, his voice low and soft as he reads the advertisements in the magazine. He finds the whole thing rather plain, yet he doesn’t stop. Every once in a while, his eyes glance up from the pages to see you. You, with your wide eyes and adorable little smile. Everything about you felt small, not necessarily because of your stature or status as a human being, but because you came off as so open and trusting with him. Your eyes droop as he continues to read, and he finds himself making a conscious effort to quiet his voice. Read softer, slower, so that you can rest. He wasn’t oblivious to whatever you had with him in your timeline, he just wasn’t quite sure what it was. Regardless, some part of him thought he might understand.

Just as your eyes fall shut, a loud timer rings throughout the cubicle. Miss Minutes pops to life on the desk, waking you suddenly. Loki curses the glowing clock in his mind, but shuts the magazine swiftly.

“Okay, y’all. Let’s review what we’ve learned!” Realizing that this wasn’t necessary for you to participate in, you allow your eyes to fall shut again. The harsh glow shines brightly behind your eyelids and you can’t help the frustrated little cry that leaves your mouth when her shrill voice scolds Loki for not taking things seriously. When your eyes open again, Loki is staring straight at you with an odd mix between amusement and determination. One might even call it...mischievous.

“How about I silence this alarm clock for you?” You sit up as his feet quickly fall flat on the floor. Loki rises, rolling up the magazine and swatting at Miss Minutes with an amused grin on his face. She dodges a few blows and your own smile crinkles your eyes when she scolds him a second time. Loki grabs another magazine off the desk and tosses it at you.

“Help me catch her!” You fumble to grab the magazine, rolling it up tightly once you get a solid grip on it. Laughter quickly escapes your mouth as you and Loki lunge for an increasingly annoyed Miss Minutes. Just as you think you’ve got her, the clock launches herself into the computer. Your paper weapon lands a blow with a solid THUNK...right on Loki’s arm.

You look up at him, stifling a giggle as he stares at his arm in shock. “I am so, so sorry, Loki.” The words barely make it out in between laughs. When his eyes land on your smiling face, they narrow dangerously.

“Oh, you clearly aren’t...but you will be.” Loki reaches for you and you shriek when his arms find your waist. He swings you around and you find it difficult to breathe once he finds out you’re ticklish. Loki’s eyes crinkle with joy, loud laughter leaving his own lips for the first time in what could very well have been years. It felt good to have the walls down. To not fear an ulterior motive or wonder if an attack would come at any moment.

Loki felt safe with you and, as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t blame it on any charade composed by magic. Not here.

“I see the lessons are going well.” Mobius stops by the side of the cubicle, watching the two of you as you quickly compose yourself. Loki’s arms move from your waist, but hover just below your lower back. He straightens up slightly, mimicking you with the intrusion.

Mobius lifts his hands in a surrendering motion, trying not to seem like a threat to either of you. You didn’t exactly see him as one, his arrival was just unexpected.

“Gear up, kids. We’ve had another attack.” Mobius throws Loki a jacket and he pulls it on as the three of you walk. Stopping to admire it, he turns to you and models the new look. The colors are drab and the orange block letters feel intrusive, but he looks good. He always does.

“It suits you.” His nose scrunches up in distaste.

“Well, it’s repulsive so I would hope not. However, I do appreciate the compliment.” Once again, you find yourself laughing as you follow Mobius into the briefing room.

The meeting is incredibly boring. Much of the same information they originally gave is being repeated, and whether that’s for Loki’s sake or theirs, you’re unsure. You tune in and out, taking in any new information or straying conversation from the usual briefings. It takes everything you have to hold your tongue when Hunter B-15 makes a comment about Loki being a variant, but he holds his own without any interference. Your mind is still on autopilot when Mobius starts listing off Loki’s powers, and when he says the term ‘illusion projecting,’ you interrupt out of pure habit.

“Duplication casting.” Your eyes raise suddenly when Loki corrects Mobius at the same time as you. He grins at you, excited by the knowledge you apparently have on his magic. He then falls into a speech that explains the intricacies and differences in his abilities. A speech you could likely recite from memory, but adore hearing nonetheless.

Loki finishes his explanation with a sarcastic, “But, you already knew that.” The words are smug, the self-satisfaction only heightened by the smirk he offers the room. That changes when he looks your way. Instead of the self-righteous smile, he instead gives you a look that is far more sincere, as if he wants his words to you to be the same, but genuine.

While walking over to where your crew would depart, Loki suddenly asks another question that you’re surprised hadn’t come up sooner.

“Will I be getting my powers back once we’re out there?” He turns to Mobius excitedly.

“Well, yes.” Loki grins at you, the mischievous look becoming more and more normal for him now that he feels a bit more secure.

“Aren’t you worried about me betraying you?” His face falls when Mobius shakes his head. The resounding “no” taking a hit to his confidence for sure.

“You already know we can catch you, how is betraying us going to get you any closer to the Time Keepers?” The spark instantly returns to Loki’s eye. He turns to you, allowing Mobius to walk on ahead of the two of you with a satisfied smile. He knew Loki wouldn’t step out of line, not with the promise of a meeting on the table.

“Are you working toward an audience with the Time Keepers as well?” That thought had never really occurred to you. Quite honestly, the only real thing keeping you here was Loki. It did bring up alarming questions though, things that you hadn’t felt the need to consider until now.

“I’m not sure. I haven’t really put too much thought into that part of my plan yet.” His face goes from confused to stern, trying to work through what you just said and how you could have possibly not had an end game here. What he didn’t know just yet, was that he was your end game. You suppose getting him that meeting was likely your goal now too.

“That’s a bit alarming, though I’m sure you have your reasons.”

The renaissance fair that you find yourselves entering is dismally dreary. The skies are grey and the air cold as ice. Loki starts in again, firing questions at Mobius that garner relatively mundane responses. It was all new to him, you understood that.

The brightly colored flags stood stark against the dark clouds and you soon found your mind drifting to other things. Other circumstances and memories.

Tony had once forced your entire team to go to a carnival, insisting that it was a great opportunity for ‘team building.’ Loki was completely over the comical magicians and juvenile illusions. He honestly was ready to leave the moment you arrived.

It wasn’t until he saw your eyes light up with the twinkling lights of the roller coasters that he decided the carnival might not be so bad. The way you couldn’t keep your joy from bubbling over at the oversized stuffed animals and sickly-sweet treats was so beautiful to him. He spent the rest of the evening following you from place to place, laughing as you jumped up and down in excitement over the same things that most adults here overlooked. You acted as a child would. It had embarrassed you when he mentioned that later, but his assurance that it was not a bad thing made your heart feel so full of love for him. Loki understood that you had lost much of your childhood. He understood that you were denied moments of wonder and were instead forced into endless seas of pain. He understood, and he adored you all the more for your ability to allow yourself to feel that happiness now.

“If this place excites you, I fear you wouldn’t be able to contain yourself on Asgard.” Loki leans close to you as he says it. A gentle smile causes his eyes to crinkle in the corners. You smile too, though you look down as your cheeks redden. You were caught.

“If that’s an invitation, I gladly accept.” You look at him, the burning in your cheeks diminishing as you gain the confidence to fall into a familiar banter with Loki. Now it’s his turn to be caught off guard.

Loki’s mouth opens and shuts a few times, and he ultimately opts to just shake his head with a small chuckle. “Perhaps it is.”

Your smile drops once the tent flaps open. If you thought outside was dark, this place is a black hole. Small torches light up the corners of the room, but the light that they offer is hardly enough to see. Bodies litter the ground and you nearly yelp when you accidentally bump into one on the floor.

Loki reaches out to steady you, guiding you over to a clearing at the center of the tent. He does it so absentmindedly, so naturally that it feels as though he’s done it a thousand times before. In your memories, he has.

The rest of the crew fan out, examining bodies and searching for any clues as to the whereabouts of this other variant. You turn to move, hesitantly trying to find your footing in the darkness, but his hand reaches out instantly to stop you. When Loki begins to talk, they all halt.

“If you leave this tent, you’ll end up like them.” It’s bullshit and you know it. Loki has this way of looking a little too thoughtful when he’s making things up on the spot. It had taken you years to get the hang of it, but you could often read him like a lie detector now. Not all the time, but the times where he was desperately trying to conjure up an entire scenario with no moments notice...those you could call.

He keeps talking, ignoring Hunter B-15 as she urgently announces how little time you all have left. Mobius watches him for any sign of deceit, but finds none. He has them fooled. That is, until Mobius catches your eye. You don’t know what Loki is planning, but you know it can’t go on much longer without causing serious damage. Mobius sees this, and he leaps in where you won’t.

“He’s lying, just playing games. There’s no one out there.” Mobius points at Loki with disapproval. “I expected more from you.” He looks at you then with even more disappointment. “Both of you.”

Back on desk duty, you sort through a few stacks of paper trying to get things back in order after yet another person decided to look through Loki’s files without so much as even attempting to put them back where they belonged. It seems he’s a hot topic here, though you should have guessed considering this is one of the most exciting things to happen at the TVA since you’d arrived.

There was so much information in these files, and you often felt like you were intruding by reading them. Of course, you were here because you knew more about Loki than any words in a file could tell a person, but it still felt a little wrong. You would be lying if you said you’d read every part of them. There were things too intimate in here. Things that should be left to his discretion to share...even if they were about you.

“Let me park ya at this desk with our previous Loki expert. Here’s a good trick, pretend like your life depends on this.” Mobius heads off to the cafeteria, leaving Loki standing before you.

“I suspected I might find you here. Seems like we’re being punished.” He looks around the stacks of files and books with disdain. This is likely the most dreary part of the entire TVA.

You pull his files off of one of the chairs and motion to it, rising to send the files back to their shelf.

“Oh, we’re definitely being punished.”

After about an hour, Loki is completely bored again. You don’t blame him. He’s read through the same paperwork on each of the attacks multiple times already. It was busy work.

You look over the paper you were reading when he animatedly gasps. “Don’t tell me the variant ambushed and killed another team of Minutemen!” Your hand comes up to stifle a laugh and Loki’s eyes land on you for a second before he goes back to reading, this time purposefully putting on a show for you.

It doesn’t take long for the both of you to start laughing. You know this isn’t going to get you anywhere, might as well have some fun with it. And it is fun.

Unfortunately, not everyone thinks so. The librarian behind you shushes the two of you loudly, causing you to bite your lip in an attempt to quiet your laughter. Loki looks at you, brows scrunching down as though he can’t believe what she just did. He offers you one more glance, then turns around and shushes the lady back. You don’t even try to stop your amusement and Loki turns back to you with a wide grin. After a few more minutes, you have to get up to use the bathroom. When you return, your heart nearly drops.

On the desk lies scattered papers belonging to Loki’s personal files. Pictures and detailed descriptions of major life events sit out in the open, and you can’t tell if he was just haphazardly looking through them, or if the files spread out were ones he had already read. Your eyes land on multiple folders pertaining to the two of you, his time spent in a cell, the months you sat by his side in attempts to understand him and help him acknowledge his own good. You see The Avengers Tower, knowing that you spent years there fighting alongside him, reading alongside him, sleeping alongside him. It was jarring to be hit with it all over again. When you try to speak, your breath hitches in your throat. Loki looks up instantly, shoving the folder he was reading beneath another and grabbing for one randomly.

“Loki…” Your eyes begin to water, this wasn’t the way you wanted things to go. He shouldn’t have looked. Had he seen everything?

He quickly stands, reaching for you. His hands rest against your arms and he leans down to meet your eye.

“Please don’t be upset. I didn’t read anything that would be improper. I just wanted to understand.” You refuse to look at him, knowing that the tears would fall the moment you looked into his blue eyes.

“Understand what?” Loki holds you a little tighter. You could feel his hands tremble.

“Why someone as delicate as you would care for a beast like me. I could absolutely destroy you without batting an eye. It would be easy...yet you trusted me not to. You still do, even now.” There’s a strain in his voice when he speaks. The sharp blade of his words paining you deep within your chest. He couldn’t possibly believe he was capable of anything so cruel. Not after everything he knew about what would have awaited him in the correct timeline.

“It’s because you’re not a monster. We both know you couldn’t kill me ‘without batting an eye’ because it would hurt too much. Did reading those files help you understand that at all?” When you finally look at him, his eyes are pleading. He lets out a deep breath of air that he had apparently been holding.

“I feel as though I’d have to see it played out myself. And I know that isn’t something you’re comfortable with. I accept that. I’m okay with that.” Each sentence is punctuated with a soft squeeze of his hands. He’s wrong though.

“No, Loki. Seeing it wouldn’t make a difference. Everything in those files are things that you need to live. Watching it and experiencing it are two very different things.” His grip loosens ever so slightly as his shoulders fall.

“But I’ll never get to experience it, will I?” Now it’s his turn to look down, glassy eyes barely hidden. It makes your own tears spring forward again.

“Not the same way it happened before.” He nods his head once, accepting the solemn truth. It would never play out quite the same as before. It couldn’t. When his hands release you, your own instantly come up to rub the tears from your eyes.

You take your seat again, pushing his files aside to grab for another on the variant attack. Loki follows close behind, taking his own seat. You work in silence, feeling his eyes on you as you focus on ignoring his still-open files.

“I meant what I said by the way.” Your hands stop, hovering over another one of his folders that you were prepared to push away.

“What?” When you look up, he’s watching your hand. You drop it and his gaze falls to the desk in front of him, contemplating his words before he says them.

“I didn’t read anything that you wouldn’t have otherwise told me about. It was tempting, and I will admit that I saw the names on a few of the folders, but I find myself respecting you far too much to do anything like that. I suspect I know why.” As he says the last sentence, he meets your gaze once more. There is so much vulnerability in the air, you feel as though you might suffocate.

After a moment, you nod at him. Even if he had read every single file, he hadn’t done anything wrong. They were his files, his life, his choice. The way he said it though, reminded you that you could tell when he was lying. He wasn’t.

It takes another hour, one shrouded in silence, until Loki sparks up again. He lets out a little excited gasp, and when you look up at him you swear you can see tears in his eyes. You have no time to question him though, as he grabs your hand and runs with you to the cafeteria to find Mobius.

With a lot of effort and time spent convincing Mobius, some of that time used watching Loki goof off and completely season Mobius’ salad to death, your little team is off to Pompeii. Loki had come up with this theory that the variant was hiding in apocalyptic events, able to do whatever they pleased because the whole place would be wiped out. Nothing they did mattered there, so they could scheme without any interference from the TVA. That was the theory.

The village was beautiful, peaceful in a way that you weren’t accustomed to. As Loki and Mobius spoke behind you, you once again found yourself lost in the sights. There was a silence that echoed in your mind every moment you spent without your powers. In most places, you could almost ignore it, convince yourself that the hollow space within you was nothing but a ghost. There was always so much energy in places like the TVA. You could pretend that energy was more than just the normal buzz.

Here though, things were different. You felt a sudden sense of grief run through you. These people would be filled with fear in a matter of seconds, and you would be powerless to do anything to help them. They would be in pain, and you could offer them nothing. It left you feeling empty and useless.

A whoosh of air whips past you, breaking you from your sadness. Loki jumps up onto the back of a goat carrier, unlatching it and cheering the goats on as they run from their enclosure. You stare in shock, looking back at Mobius who only shrugs at you and shakes his head.

When he begins speaking Latin, you can only make out a few words. He’s so animated, it’s almost comical.

The volcano explodes behind him and the crowd screams, running for cover. Loki continues to run around throwing things and laughing.

“Nothing matters! Enjoy your last meal, dance while you still can!” He comes to a halt in front of you, holding his hand out toward you.

“May I have this dance?” You shake your head in disbelief. This doesn’t deter him though.

“Loki, are you serious?” He holds his hand out a little further, dropping the ‘end of the world’ charade and smiling at you genuinely. He looks almost shy.

“It is the end of the world, after all.” You look around, most of the people have left. What was happening was a terrible tragedy, but Loki was right; there was nothing you could do. Sometimes there just wasn’t.

His hand is large, making you feel safe as he closes it around yours. Loki gently pulls you close to him, resting his hand on your waist and guiding you in circles. He spins you around, and for a moment this chaos actually feels like home.

There are occasions when not having a sense of time isn’t quite so bad. You could drift through life, doing what needs to be done without worry of running out of it. Things felt like they went by quickly. This wasn’t one of those occasions.

Mobius flips another page in his folder and sighs. He rubs his eyes and shuts it, handing it to you to be placed amongst the various others you had already read through. A sleepy yawn leaves your mouth. As much as you hate field work, at the very least it required less monotony than this.

You really can't help it when your eyes begin to drift shut. Just like that, everything goes quiet.

Mobius watches you and Loki with an amused eye roll and tiny smile. The two of you had fallen asleep at the desk. You were leaning against Loki, his arm draped over you and holding you protectively to his chest. His head rested on top of yours, relaxed in a way that Mobius had yet to witness from either of you.

For two people who never quite let their guard down, you sure were calm now. Mobius remembered the day he first met you, a scared and desperate kid who nearly broke down when he agreed to give you a chance. You always played up not trusting him, but Mobius knew he was the closest thing you had to a friend for a long time before Loki appeared. You had depended on him, and he found himself wanting to keep that faith in him alive. You were just a kid, you didn’t deserve to have to go through half of what you already had.

Loki was a slightly different story. While Mobius knew there was much more to the god than trickery and illusions, he wasn’t anywhere near as gentle as you. While you hunted by demand, Loki did so for sport. He knew why you were attracted to Loki, he had read your file. You were a healer above all else. You found purpose in providing peace amidst turmoil. Loki was the ultimate hurricane. That had to be it. There was obviously no other explanation for your unwavering drive to protect him.

Mobius didn’t know it, but that was a very small piece of a much larger puzzle. The complexities with which you and Loki loved was not something that could be deciphered through reading. It wasn’t trivial in the slightest. It was deeply and remarkably emotional.

No, Mobius only saw a scared little boy and a girl who wanted to banish the fear from his heart. Suddenly, it hit him. Scared little boy!

A slam on the desk causes you to jump, awakening you from your nap. There’s something solid beneath your head, much softer than the wooden desk you expected to feel. Opening your eyes, you find yourself resting against Loki’s chest. It feels so safe here, so calm. His arms hold you close to him and you notice when he struggles to open his eyes. It felt like you hadn’t slept in days, so you understood the sentiment completely.

When Loki finds you snug within his arms, his heart beats a little faster. He's sure you can hear it, your head is so close to his chest. You're so fragile to him, and having you here against his body stirs up something within him that screams at him to protect you. He barely has time to process everything before Mobius flips open a file in front of the two of you.

“Wakey, wakey, kids. I found something on that Kablooie we picked up at one of the scenes.”

Rising from Loki’s chest, you feel his hands fall from around you. You miss him immediately.

“What’s that?” Loki stretches, leaning over to see the bag that Mobius pulls out.

“Candy. Do you have candy on Asgard?” Mobius looks at Loki incredulously.

You shake your head, both in response to the question and to clear the sleepiness from your mind. “Nope. None that he’s ever eaten anyway.”

Loki pipes up defensively. “Well, we have grapes, nuts, things of that sort.” Mobius looks at you, shock on his face. You shrug. When you first found out that Loki had never had candy, you made it your mission to overload him on sweets. You always adored sweet things, and sharing that with him was one of your favorite pastimes. Maybe that could be something you did again.

“No wonder you’re so bitter.” Loki stares after him, taking offense to the comment. Mobius doesn’t even notice, opting instead to slam another stack of papers down. Time to continue your work. At least you had a lead now.

“Remember, this is a class ten apocalypse. The variant should be considered hostile, and it is important to keep an eye out for reset charges. The variant steals one every time there is an attack.” This briefing is one you actually find yourself paying close attention to. You’d been to a few apocalypse sights while working with the TVA, not to mention the trip to Pompeii just recently with Loki and Mobius. While this shouldn’t be anything too extreme, the fact that the Loki variant could be there made you worry. While you knew finding this variant could get you one step closer to finally being free with Loki, something held you back.

Arriving at the sight, the rain pummels you brutally. The blue glow of the Roxxcart sign reflects off of everything around you. Holographs flicker in the rain, and you would almost find it pretty if not for the chill of the water.

By the time you make it into the store, you’re shaking and dripping wet. Loki stops beside you, puddling water onto the floor. Your nose scrunches up, attempting to hold back a sneeze, but you can’t. Trying not to call any attention to your shivers, you just smile at Loki and shrug it off.

Loki looks you over quickly, taking in the wet clothes and blue tint to your lips. His hand comes up and a bright green glow washes over you, instantly drying your clothes and warming you up.

“Wouldn’t want you catching a cold.” Now, he smiles and the green light dries him as well. You nod in thanks, bumping his shoulder and walking over to the rest of the group with him.

“Alright, I’ll go with our little sorcerers-”

“No. You two head out with D-90. He stays with me.” Mobius fights the hunter on this, insisting to no avail that Loki should stay with you guys. Eventually, she forces him to back down but the same definitely won’t be said for you.

“I go where he goes.” The hunter sighs and turns to you, staring you down. Walking up to you in an attempt to appear intimidating, she stands nearly chest to chest with you. It wouldn’t be that easy though.

“We don’t need you here. If you don’t want to follow my command, you can leave.” You glare back at her. If she thinks that you were going to back down now after having gone against the most powerful force in the universe, she had another thing coming to her.

“We both know exactly what I’m capable of and why I’m here. Don’t fucking threaten me.” She rolls her eyes, but you’re not finished.

“Every emotion, every fear, every little thing that you’ve pushed down because it’s just way too much to deal with. I’ll make you feel it. You will never know what peace is again. We can work together, or I can be the worst nightmare you’ve ever experienced. The only difference will be that you can never wake up.” The hunter’s eyes widen for the slightest of seconds, but it’s long enough for you to see that you won. Pushing past her, you walk back over to Loki and start heading down the hall.

Loki stares at the hunters and Mobius, eyebrows raised and expression definitely showing that he felt the embarrassment for them. He points in your direction and follows after you, impressed and completely in awe. It was easy to forget how scary you could be. Everything about you felt calm and sympathetic. You were easy to underestimate, but maybe that was deliberate.

The lights flicker around you and your heart rate picks up. You were never a fan of dark, enclosed spaces. When Loki’s footsteps catch up to you, you’re relieved for multiple reasons.

“That was quite impressive. Albeit, a bit frightening. Remind me never to get on your bad side.” You try to keep the smile off of your face, but his grin makes you feel at ease. Rolling your eyes, you smile back at him.

“I really doubt you’re scared of me.” Loki walks a little faster, getting in front of you and walking backwards to face you.

“You’re right about that. I don’t often back down from dominant individuals. It does do something to me though.” He winks at you and you laugh, smacking his arm playfully. You might just be thankful for the darkness now, considering it’s hiding the bright blush on your cheeks. You would never get used to the way Loki’s flirting made your stomach flutter to life with butterflies.

Your eyes suddenly catch sight of a man standing by the plants. “Who is that?”

Loki turns instantly, standing between you and the man. Hunter B-15 walks up to question him, her weapon held out protectively. Looking at him from behind Loki, you recognize something in him. Something that doesn’t feel like it should be there. God, you wish you could use your powers right now. Nothing felt right, but without them you had nothing to back that up. Still, you would risk looking foolish if there was a chance that you were right.

“Something’s off about him.” Loki turns his head to acknowledge you.

“What?’ The hunter walks closer to him, telling him to head back to the main part of the store.

“Wait, something isn’t right!” B-15 turns to you, but the man grabs her and falls limp. You don’t miss the light green magic that flows between them. She turns and smiles at Loki.

“So, you’re the fool the TVA brought in to hunt me down.” She looks at you from behind Loki, smiling wider. “And of course you brought the pet.”

Although it takes you a second to recognize what just happened, Loki catches on instantly. He smirks at her.

“Me, I presume. It’s so nice to meet you.”

She motions for him to follow her as she makes her way through the aisles. Loki squeezes your arm. “Stay behind me.”

“I was so worried that they’d found a better version of me. But now, seeing how delusional you are working for the TVA...well, I’d say that fear is gone.” Her legs swing, mocking you with how nonchalant she appears.

“I don’t work for the TVA, I work for me.” The variant turns around to face the two of you fully. She smiles and clicks her tongue condescendingly. Her head tilts, catching your eye.

“It’s cute that you believe that. I’m an enchantress, Loki. I can tell when someone’s under a spell.” He follows her gaze, moving to hide you fully when he notices where she’s looking.

The variant lets out a breathy laugh and turns back around. A worker walks up to her, and before you can do anything to stop it, the magic shifts between them.

Loki doesn't miss a beat, talking before the worker is even fully enchanted.

“I have an offer for you, that’s why I found you. I'm going to overthrow the Time Keepers and, cards on the table, I could use a qualified lieutenant." You try not to let that get to you. He says it so easily, the words flowing without any hesitation. It couldn't be the truth, right? You could read him like a book, but right now you were struggling. It was just the nerves.

"And I assume you mean me and not your little pup." That one hurts. For so long it was common for people to see you as some lost child next to Loki. They treated you as though you were a victim, being corrupted and taken advantage of while blind to it all out of love. You weren't blind, and you weren't some useless toy.

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you almost missed the look he gave you.

Loki's eyes lock on yours minutely. He tilts his head just slightly, but you know the look. He has a plan. Trust him.

"There’s only one person I can trust. So what say you, Loki?" He holds his arms out invitingly, gently pushing you further back in the process.

"Don't call me that. Enough with your games, I'm not interested in ruling the TVA."

Their eyes take on a shift, anger surging through them as they turn away. Loki follows after them.

"If you don't want to overthrow the TVA, what do you want?" Electricity hums around you, the lights flickering violently. When they go down, you can see the orange glow radiating from multiple spots around you. Loki looks around as well, he faces you with an urgency that sparks panic in you.

When he speaks, his voice is low and rushed. "Go find Mobius. If there's a fight here, you don't need to be a part of it."

Your head shakes and you reach for him. If there was going to be a fight here, you weren't going to leave him. You were never the best fighter, not without your powers. You could help though. You had to.

"I'm not leaving you alone with them." He wants to disagree with you. The conflict flashes in his eyes, but he has little time to argue. Loki nods his head toward the corner. If you want to stay, you don't need to be at the center of it.

Loki turns and steps toward the variant slowly. They changed again while the two of you spoke. This new body was large, clearly strong and far more intimidating than the previous.

Loki is undeterred and his arms stretch out, directing the attention to the glowing charges around the room.

"I see, that's your plan. Lure us all here so you can blow the place up."

Overhead, the lights flicker again. You see them charge forward and scream when they kick Loki forcefully across the room.

"Thank you for helping me stall for time, you really do love to talk." Loki rises just as the variant steps forward. You scan the room for anything that could be of use and find a cable hanging off of a shelf.

Your arms reach for it, swinging it overhead and wrapping it around the variant's neck. Your legs swing up and use his back as leverage to pull harder on the cable. Natasha had taught you a thing or two and you were now thankful for the hours spent getting kicked around by her on a mat.

Loki rushes to you, punching the variant in the face. You feel him stepping backwards and can't move fast enough to avoid smashing into the aisle behind you. The metal digs into your spine and you yelp in pain, letting the cable go. Your body falls to the floor and the variant grabs for your throat while you attempt to recover.

Just as his hand is about to close around your neck, Loki swipes his feet out from under him. The man's head slams against the floor, temporarily incapacitating him.

Loki locks his hand on yours to help you rise.

"Are you alright?" You nod your head rapidly, getting up to make yourself less of a target. "Are you?" Loki checks himself over. "It appears so."

The break is short-lived as Loki takes a hard hit to the side. The variant locks its sights on you. He kicks violently and you barely dodge it. Your arm swings back to strike the man in the face, giving Loki the chance to run back over to you.

Loki grabs you quickly, pushing you behind him as the enchanted man sends another kick your way. He blocks it, but just barely. Loki summons a vacuum cleaner to his hand, swinging it around to send the man flying back. He runs over to you, holding your arm and looking back occasionally to make sure the man is still down.

“If I can get you close enough while distracting him, do you think you could stop the enchantment or put him to sleep?” You shake your head, knowing that you can’t. His powers may be available to him out here, but yours still aren’t. As long as the TVA knows where you are, your powers are kept from you.

“I know you probably don’t use them much now, but I know what you can do! This Loki is incredibly resilient, I’m going to need your help if we aim to stop him.” You continue to shake your head adamantly.

“I can’t.” He grabs your hand, knowing that your magic often resonated from the centers of your palms.

“Yes, you can. I’ll take the fall for it, you don’t have to worry about a thing.” Loki squeezes your hand in his, the urgency in his actions hitting you down to your core. You feel useless. Your fighting abilities were minimal at best. Loki could take this variant without you, but you were barely a distraction to him. The TVA had left you powerless and with very little means to protect yourself. You couldn’t do anything and it made your stomach twist now that it was directly affecting Loki too.

“Loki, I can’t!” A small spark stings the hand that Loki has wrapped in yours. Your eyes grow wide at the feeling, knowing that it couldn’t have possibly been you...right?

A low chuckle sounds from behind the two of you and Loki rises to hide you from the opposing figure. They're much smaller now, and their voice is softer.

“Leave the poor girl alone." The person steps closer, slowly shaking their head at Loki as though scolding a child.

"How is she supposed to use her magic when they have her chained up like a dog?"

Loki turns back to face you, a thousand questions floating through his mind. Only one matters at this moment though.

"They keep them from you, even out here?" His eyes fill with pain, knowing that he played a part in that somehow. Even if he hadn't outright forced you to do it, it was still his existence that led to it. You had abandoned a part of yourself for him.

You look down, suddenly feeling humiliated. The shame of what you were willing to lose felt so much heavier now that he knew. It wasn't just a temporary restraint like he had been given. At this point, you had been severed from your powers for what felt like years. It was shameful.

He struggles to find the right words to say, but nothing can make this better. He couldn't imagine the pain you were in. Remembering the person behind the two of you, Loki says what he needs to in order to keep the focus off of you. He knew you weren't useless without your powers, the fight you had just put up proved it. You didn't quite see that same strength in yourself though, so he wanted nothing more than to ensure you weren't the target of this variant's attacks.

"You clearly know she's no threat to you, so what do you want from me?" Loki turns away from you, stepping up to the variant.

"This isn't about you."

Everything in the store powers down. As the lights go out, reset charges glow and vanish in squares of glittery gold.

In front of you, the variant picks something up and waves at you and Loki with a satisfied grin. She disappears in the portal before you can even think to move.

The glow of the portal casts Loki in a golden light. He stands by it, watching as the variant runs through and disappears. You can see the hesitancy in his face. He's struggling.

“Loki-” Before you can even finish, he cuts you off with urgency.

“Come with me.” You make no move to approach him, fearing that he might do something rash if he feels trapped. You’re confused though. He couldn’t have just asked that, could he? He knew you had no powers now, so why wouldn’t he just go?

“What?” Loki quickly turns to face you, taking long strides to reach you in as little time as possible. His hands come up to squeeze your arms, trying desperately to garner all of your attention. He needed you to see how serious he was right now. How sure.

“Come with me. I know that there is much more to our story, and while I respect your wishes not to show me, I also don’t think I’m ready to live this life, my life, without exploring what still could be.” His eyes are so piercing, so pleading.

You’d given up everything once to see Loki again. Risked imminent death just for the small hope that he might still be out there somewhere. Hell, you had gone against the Time Lords themselves to reach the TVA so that you could find Loki...and he hadn’t even asked that of you then. Why now, when he’s nearly begging you to run away with him, would you say no? He knew your powers were being locked away from you, yet he still wanted you beside him.

What you didn't know was that the discovery of your powers was the final straw for Loki. His time with you may have been limited so far, but he was certain that the kindness and genuine care for him that you showed, even when you didn't think he'd find out, was not something that he could ignore. In his heart, he knew that he held so much emotion for you. Even now, the urge to have you by his side was far too strong to deny. The fact that his affection was clearly mutual made him ache for further discovery.

Behind you, hunters and TVA agents run closer. You can hear Mobius calling to you and Loki, but neither of you make any move. Loki is waiting for your decision. It suddenly dawns on you that he might not leave if you don’t make one, or if you decide to stay. He would sacrifice what was likely his only opportunity to escape if running meant leaving you behind. You already knew your answer, but that solidified it. You would happily go wherever Loki led you, because you knew that he would do the same.

“Let’s go.” His eyes twinkle with relief and pure happiness at your words. You chose him. You knew he was unaccustomed to that; to being someone's choice. He’d have to get used to it very fast now that you two were going to be on the run together.

Loki grabs your hand, stopping once more to look at Mobius apologetically. You would be lying if you said it didn't hurt a bit to betray him. You had to though.

With that, Loki pulls you through the portal with him. It seals shut behind the two of you in a glittery display of light.

a/n: can you guys guess which scenes made me happy in the show? there was so much smiley loki in this chapter, and while i cant stop myself from being slightly angsty, i hope you guys liked the fluffiness in this. please never be shy to tell me what you think, i love hearing from y'all and your interactions make my heart so happy. have a lovely weekend angels!

taglist: @adefectivedetective @peachlobotomy666 @unfortunatelyymuggle @st6jimmyandtheidiots @cheydanoa @thenerdyniallgirl @jessalynjones1989 @00schasez @lunala-luvgood @floweaus @fangirltrash15 @bandsruinedmylife @mydelusionalworld-7 @uada-animus @randomfangirl7 @effmigentlywithachainsaw @drakesfiance @phantomr0se @payton-1-jones @letscici @strangemaximoff @hassbite @magi-no-aladdin @littlesouthernrebel @jessiejunebug @coppercorn-and-cauldron @orighami @wrappedinlokisarms @dark-night-sky-99 @unicornsandgliiitter @themusingsofmany @darkprincessloki92 @lokiedokiee @shegatsby @cherrygeek86 @beckymarvel @daem-o-nium @help-i-need-a-social-life @teel-dinosaur

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#loki #tom hiddleston #loki x reader #loki fanfic #loki odinson x reader #loki imagine #loki imagines #marvel x you #mcu #marvel x reader #marvel fanfic #loki laufeyson #tva #loki spoilers

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hb-writes · 3 years

Text

The Walk-In Appointment

Summary: From the Little Lady Blinder universe. Clara learns to walk a bit later than her twin, but once she does there’s no stopping her from following her big brother around wherever he goes. Set in May 1909.

Characters: Tommy Shelby, Ada Shelby, Arthur Shelby, Polly Gray, and Clara Shelby

Warnings: Swearing

Hope you enjoy this little piece since the next chapter isn’t coming yet. This was inspired by the lovely @cecii22me’s ask and I’m so absolutely softened by the idea of Clara learning to walk and chasing around her ‘Ta’ / ‘TaTa’ as that’s what I’ve decided she’d call Tommy before she could get the whole name out properly.

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Ada stood her little sister up on her feet, holding her small hands as she encouraged a bit of walking. Clara humored Ada for a few steps, always did so, but lowered herself to the ground as soon as Ada tried to pull her hands away.

Finn took his first steps a few months before his twin sister, toddling around on the first floor and out into the shop if they left the doors open with little care for his own safety. He’d taken the first steps while walking towards his mother’s outstretched arms, the baby’s smiling face as he moved towards her a bright spot in what had come to be some tiring and difficult days for the woman.

But five months later, Clara still hadn’t shown an interest. Since their mother’s passing, the baby had become more clingy, more likely to request a sibling’s or her aunt’s arms, searching every adult face around her for that of her missing mother. She’d crawl, when necessary, but more often stayed put, playing quietly by herself while Finn made a mess of things around her.

Polly told her niece and nephews to not worry about Clara’s lack of steps. One toddling Shelby was more than enough to handle and each of them had walked at different times. Clara was the latest of the six Shelby children though, now three months past her first birthday.

“Let her be, Ada,” Polly chided as Ada tried to force her younger sister up again, the toddler putting up a great protest and pulling against Ada’s hold as she tried to get back to the ground.

Ada stopped fighting with Clara, instead pulling the girl up to rest on her skinny hip. “Finny walked ages ago, Clara. Don’t you want to walk?”

“Your sister will walk when she’s ready,” Polly answered. “I can’t imagine why you’re surprised she’s just as stubborn as the rest of you.”

Ada kissed her sister’s cheek and Clara settled against Ada’s chest for a moment, her little version of a hug.

“You’re not stubborn, are you, lovey? You’re just a sweet little thing.” Ada rubbed her sister’s back. “A sweet little lovey who wants to try walking for sissy one last time.”

Ada set Clara on her feet at the moment Tommy walked through the front door, disturbing the peace of the front room as he let it slam behind him.

Tommy passed his aunt and sisters without a word on his way to the shop, ignoring the baby’s incessant repeating of his name, a continuous stream of ‘Ta Ta Ta Ta’ growing louder as he disappeared from her view.

Ada released her sister’s hands to cover her ears, anticipating the unrelenting shriek that had become commonplace when the baby didn’t get what she wanted, but it didn’t come. Clara continued chanting after Tommy, taking her first steps as she shouted after her brother.

Polly glanced up from the paper at Ada’s excited squeal.

“I told you she’d walk when ready,” she offered, setting the paper aside and standing up.

Clara tumbled at the threshold to the shop, falling back on her bottom. Ada stepped forward to help her sister only to be stopped by Polly’s hand on her wrist.

Clara’s face scrunched up as she tugged on the thick curtains using them to stand up and gripping them until she was safely over the threshold.

Clara’s shouting for Tommy grew louder as she stepped into the shop, her little voice trying to overcome the volume of the scattered conversations taking place. Despite not clearly seeing Tommy, she took no deviations in her route as she headed towards Arthur’s office, the only place she’d ever come in the shop, always carried there on someone’s hip to visit the oldest Shelby brother.

Tommy caught sight of her steps only because a lull in the noise of the shop caused him to back out of Arthur’s doorway and look around, his sister’s shout perfectly timed to the sudden silence of the room.

He’d come home annoyed about some decision made about the horses, about to tell Arthur off, but he felt that anger leave him as he registered what was happening, the baby toddling towards him, her fair curls bouncing with each determined step. There was something new in her little gap-toothed smile, something in her serious uttering of the name she’d bestowed upon him months ago, the sound interspersed with her self-satisfied giggles, and it all made Tommy forget what he’d come in for in the first place because it was the most animated he’d seen the baby in months, the closest to happy he’d felt in months.

Arthur, Ada, and Polly were all watching by now, too, an almost foreign feeling which felt decidedly close to bliss swelling in them as Clara reached Tommy’s side. The baby gripped the fabric of her brother’s trousers in her small hands, tugging as she looked up to him.

“Up, Ta, up!”

Tommy leaned down to pull the girl into his arms, kissing her head. “Hello there, Clara girl.”

“Of course her first steps would be following after you,” Ada said, her arms crossed over her chest as she leaned against one of the tables.

“Oh, don’t be jealous, Ada,” Arthur said, rubbing his finger along the baby’s cheek. “I had your first steps. It’s only fair Tommy gets Clara’s.”

Clara put her palm to Tommy’s cheek, turning him towards her when his eyes moved to follow the conversation of their siblings.

“No, TaTa, no,” she said, her little voice sharp. “No. No. No.”

She grasped Tommy’s hand and swatted it. “No, Ta!”

Ada snorted, giggles escaping her lips as she watched the baby, her brow still furrowed despite appearing to be finished with her chastising.

“You’re in fucking trouble now, Tommy,” Arthur said, chuckling.

The handful of times the twins had picked up something they weren’t supposed to, done some little bit wrong, or put themselves in some unsafe predicament, they’d gotten a little warning tap on the hand.

“What’s that for, my girl?” Tommy asked, trying to keep a straight face.

“You’ve been bad, Thomas, ignored her when you came through just now,” Polly answered. “And Arthur, find better words, please. I don’t want the baby repeating that one.”

Tommy shifted the toddler in his arms. “Is that it, my girl? Ta didn’t say hello so you decided to walk in here to let me have it?” He kissed her head. “I’m very sorry, sweet girl. I should’ve said hello.”

Clara was already cuddling into his chest, giving a hug, her little hands gripping his shirt and Tommy waited, resting his chin on her head and letting her cuddle a bit before placing her on the floor beside him.

“Alright, you go off to Ada now or she’ll pout the rest of the evening,” Tommy encouraged, wishing he hadn’t yet started the conversation with Arthur. He’d much rather pass the hour before supper with Clara, but he had little choice in it now.

“C’mon. Show us those big girl steps and I’ll see you for supper.”

Clara took two steps towards her sister’s outstretched hands, turning back when Tommy stepped into Arthur’s office.

“Ta!” she said, holding a hand out to him.

Tommy took a deep breath, unable to hide his smile as he looked down at her.

“TATA!” she yelled, walking back to him.

“Give me a minute, Arthur,” Tommy said, taking one of Clara’s hands, stooping a bit to one side as she led him from the shop and back to the sitting room with Ada and Polly. Tommy settled her on the floor and played with his sisters for a few moments before standing up.

“I’ll be back,” he promised. “You stay with Ada.”

Tommy was grateful for Ada’s distraction, grateful that they didn’t have to suffer a tantrum because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to not give in to her on it.

Tommy and Arthur were just settling in to talk when there was a banging at the office door, a firm repetition of knocks.

“Christ, can’t even have a fucking conversation in this place. Get that, Tommy, won’t you?”

Tommy stood up and pulled his brother’s door open, glancing down at the threshold to see their visitor.

“We have a walk-in appointment, Arthur.”

“A what?” Arthur asked, unable to see a thing beyond his desk.

“A walk-in. Our Clara’s here demanding an audience.” Tommy lifted the girl into his arms.

“Well, best let her in, then,” Arthur answered. “No hope in her staying where’s she’s told now. We really are fucked.”

“Fuck!” Clara said, the same self-satisfied grin on her face as when she’d walked towards Tommy, her giggles filling the room as Tommy and Arthur both started laughing.

“I won’t tell Aunt Polly if you don’t,” Arthur said.

“I don’t think it’s me you have to bargain with to keep the secret, Arthur,” Tommy answered as he settled the giggling girl on his lap.

“Fuck,” Arthur said again, covering his mouth as the three siblings dissolved into laughter once again, Tommy and Arthur finding themselves entirely incapable of returning to their previous discussion with the little girl shouting out her new favorite word every time their laughter subsided.

———

Little Lady Blinder Masterlist.

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🏷: @midnight-dreams-23 @cecii22me @pollyrepents @mo-onstarrs

#peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #shelby!sister #shelby sister #tommy shelby #arthur shelby #ada shelby #polly gray #clara shelby #little lady blinder

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heliads · 3 years

Text

Best Kept Secrets (Part Two)

Based on this request: “Wanda and the reader are married and the reader mom is Agatha but the reader does not know that…Then Agatha watches the reader having a good time with her family and Agatha is happy but sad because we get another flashback of the reader snapping their finger in order to destroy thanos and his army.”

part one / masterlist

Cameras continue rolling, boom mics lower. Episode begins.

Y/N looks around, at their family gathered nearby. There’s a white and red checked picnic blanket tucked around them, a water bottle sloshing noisily in their lowering grasp. Y/N’s wife, Wanda, is speaking to their two twin sons, Billy and Tommy, who are delighted over a grasshopper they’ve spotted among the emerald stalks beneath their feet. To any unsuspecting passersby, the scene would look perfectly normal, and it should be so, yet there’s still a cloud of unease lingering over Y/N’s face. For a second, Y/N didn’t think they were back at the Westview park but instead in some unfamiliar place.

It had happened just as Y/N was reaching for the water bottle. They had been kneeling, right hand outstretched, and then the scene had shifted around them. The sky had turned an ashy gray, the dew-drenched grass broken up into rubble and debris. Y/N had been kneeling in that same position, hand outstretched, but there was something wrong there, something that had filled them with this strange determined terror…

Y/N is jolted back to reality when their young son, Billy, turns to her with a concerned expression. “Is everything alright? You look too unhappy for a fun picnic.” A gentle smile slips onto Y/N’s face like a well-worn glove. “I’m fine, don’t worry about me. I was just finishing up my lunch. Speaking of which, it looks like you boys are done eating as well. Is there anything else you’d like to do while we’re here?” Tommy nods excitedly, bounding up from his position on the picnic blanket. “I saw the coolest dragonflies and bugs around us.”

Wanda laughs. “Doesn’t that sound interesting! Here, take these. You can catch us some insects to study.” With a flourish of her hand, Wanda turns two wooden serving spoons into identical butterfly nets, and hands one to each twin. They look at each other in excitement then dart off into the grass, swinging the nets with enthusiasm, if lacking somewhat in coordination. Y/N gives Wanda an amused stare. “What about the spoons?” Wanda waves a hand dismissively. “I can turn them back later. Sure makes packing easier to just change all the cutlery into toys.”

The audience laughs at that, and Y/N grins. “Speaking of which, let’s speed up the packing of the picnic basket.” With a gesture of their hands, all of the plates and utensils fly into the wicker basket in a flurry of purple sparks. Wanda nods appreciatively. “I’m going to have to learn that trick.” Y/N stands up, glancing around her at the paths leading out of the park. “Just curious, did you see Agnes walking around? I could have sworn I saw her just a few minutes ago.” Wanda frowns. “I don’t think so. Are you looking for her?” Y/N glances around one last time, then shrugs. “Not anymore, I guess.”

Billy, having just successfully snared a dragonfly, calls over to Y/N. Y/N walks over, admiring the insect with their son. Billy considers it one last time, then turns over the net and releases it. Y/N watches it go. “That’s a good choice. As much fun as it is to study interesting things, you always have to let them go in the end.” Billy nods sagely. “You know, I finally get why you and Mom work so well together.” Y/N smiles questioningly. “Why is that?” Billy stares out over the park, looking for more winged insects. “She always has so many thoughts in your head, and yours sometimes don’t show up at all. She’s noisy and you’re quiet, and it works out.”

Y/N tilts their head to the side, looking over at Billy. “What do you mean, I’m quiet?” Billy shrugs. “I can’t hear as many of your thoughts. It kind of reminds me of Agnes, actually. She does the same thing.” Y/N’s brow furrows, but they still allow a fond expression to cross their face. “Look at you go, using your powers. I think it’s amazing that you can tell all that already.” Billy beams, glad for the compliment, then races off after a recently sighted butterfly.

Y/N watches him as he chases after it, raising his net high in the air to successfully entangle the butterfly in the woven fabric. Y/N’s smile disappears from their face, however, as they watch the butterfly struggling in the net. As it flutters around, looking for a possible escape, the bright violet of its wings seems to darken, almost vanishing into empty gray. With every flutter of its wings, the purple leaches from the butterfly.

There’s another sight in Y/N’s eyes now. Y/N can still see that electric purple hue circling around something, can still see it trembling and disappearing into nothingness. But the violet isn’t clinging to a butterfly’s wings this time. No, it’s around a hand, Y/N’s hand, and it’s vanishing as Y/N’s heart rate seems to slow, because as the purple fades away so to does she, which means that Y/N is-

Y/N’s eyes widen, dragging them back to reality as Wanda walks up next to them. Wanda frowns at the look on Y/N’s face. “Are you alright? You look worried. I thought Billy specifically requested that you have a good time.” Y/N laughs at the joke. “As much fun as that sounds, it’s a lot easier to change someone else’s emotions than to fix your own.” Wanda makes a face at the camera. “You have no idea.” Laughter ripples down from the audience, and Y/N looks around for a second as if trying to find out its source.

Wanda puts a hand on Y/N’s shoulder, gently steering them back to face her once again. “You are feeling alright, yes? I just want to make sure everything is under control.” Y/N looks back at Wanda, but their expression is still tinged with unease. “It always is with you around, isn’t it?”

Cameras cut to B-Roll footage. Screen fades to black, but shortly opens on a new scene- Wanda and Y/N’s bedroom.

Y/N lies awake, staring at the ceiling. Beside them, Wanda sleeps peacefully, but Y/N seems unable to share in her quiet rest. Y/N closes her eyes, as if considering something, then slips silently from the blankets and out of bed. Wanda starts to stir, but then Y/N flicks her hands towards the cameras, and they turn away, shut down. Wanda returns back to her deep sleep, no longer concerned.

Cameras are unresponsive. Scene cuts to black.

Y/N quickly dons a pair of comfortable clothes before heading out of the house and down the block. They can still hear Billy’s voice echoing in the recesses of their head- I can’t hear that many of your thoughts. It kind of reminds me of Agnes, actually. She does the same thing. Y/N knows why Billy can’t hear their mind, it’s because of Y/N’s magic, but why would Agnes have the same ability?

After a couple of quiet knocks, Agnes’ front door opens. Agnes looks startled to see Y/N standing there, and hurriedly gestures for them to come inside, quickly shutting the door behind them. “Not that I don’t love spending time with my closest of friends, but can I get a reason for this late-night visit?” Agnes glances around her, but Y/N holds up a hand. “Don’t worry about the cameras- I shut them off. Nobody can see us right now.” Agnes’ head jerks up. “You know about the cameras?” Y/N inclines their head. “Only every now and then. I think I lose my memory of them sometimes because certain people want me to forget.”

Agnes nods in agreement, then a sudden movement outside in the street catches her eye. Agnes turns her head slowly to face the window and curses softly when she sees a figure moving down the street. Y/N follows her gaze. “Why is the mailman out doing his route? It’s the middle of the night.” Agnes grimaces. “Wanda must have sent him out to see where you were. Even unconsciously, she can still tell that you’re looking into things that you’re not supposed to know about.”

The mailman is almost at their window when Agnes’ hand moves almost imperceptibly, and the man looks the other way, avoiding Agnes’ house completely. Y/N’s eyes dart to Agnes’ hand, at the brief flash of indigo electricity that had danced around her fingers. “You have the same magic as I do. How is that possible?” Agnes faces Y/N with a look like a caged animal. “Why did you call me Agatha on our last visit?” She counters, and Y/N sighs. “I don’t know. It just came into my head. Now tell me- do you really have the same powers as I do?”

Agatha- for it is truly Agatha now- holds up a hand, allowing the purple sparks to flicker between her fingers. “It’s less of a power and more of a learned ability.” Y/N’s brow furrows as they consider this, and then their eyes widen. “I’ve never seen anyone with that same ability, and I shouldn’t ever, unless-” They break off, staring at Agatha. “I thought my mother abandoned me long ago. I thought she was dead. But she’s not, is she? She’s you.” Agatha nods once, and Y/N looks overwhelmed.

“You’ve known all along. You knew that I was your child and you never once looked for me? You could have told me when I first arrived. You could have never left me at all. Why do it then, for fun? Because you were sick of me, even though I was too small to know what you were doing?” Agatha winces like she’s been slapped. “I didn’t want to leave you! I had a coven, a coven with strict rules, and they made me give you up. I didn’t know who you were until a week or so ago when you arrived here, I swear it. I would have found you long ago had I known.”

Y/N’s breathing is harsh in their chest. “Do you mean it? You would have stayed with me?” Agatha nods. “Leaving you was one of my worst regrets. It haunted me every day.” Y/N stands there, as if in a trance, then rushes over, flinging their arms around their mother. Agatha seems frozen in place, then slowly wraps her arms around her child to return the embrace. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I never meant for this to happen.” Y/N nods. “I know. It’s alright now.”

Cameras return with a shower of ruby sparks. Scene opens in the Maximoff-L/N family kitchen.

Tommy is standing alone at the kitchen table, fixing himself a peanut butter sandwich. His brother is off in his room, trying to teach himself a new card trick he’d seen their Uncle Pietro do once. Y/N walks into the kitchen, and glances over at their son. “How’s the sandwich?” Tommy nods, his face a mask of complete concentration. “I have to get it just right. The perfect sandwich is key to the perfect day.” Y/N raises an eyebrow. “I can understand that. How do you know it’s perfect?”

Tommy carefully smears a last dollop of peanut butter onto his sandwich, reverently placing the two pieces of bread together. “I just know. With the right toastiness of the bread, and the crunchy peanut butter, perfectness was practically inevitable.” He snaps his fingers in satisfaction. Y/N flinches, staring at Tommy’s hand. Inevitable. The snap. Wait-

Another hand is snapping its fingers, another hand clad in a large golden glove. No, it was not a glove but a gauntlet. It’s not Y/N’s hand this time, it’s someone else’s, and someone else’s voice declaring that they were inevitable. And then there’s a voice coming from behind the figure, who whirls around in outrage, and it must be Y/N’s voice speaking now. Y/N replies, but most importantly they snap their fingers as well, the cloud of purple magic over their hand lit up by six gems spangled into the gauntlet on their own hand, and-

Wanda walks into the room again, forcing Y/N to return to the present moment. Wanda takes in the sight of Y/N, about to head through the door. “Where are you heading in such a rush?” She asks. “I was heading to Agnes��, actually.” Y/N says, and Wanda frowns. “Why do you keep bringing up Agnes? First at the picnic, then again here. I mean, she’s just our neighbour, right?” Y/N glances over at her. “Does it really matter? I just want to see her.” Y/N starts to turn away towards the door, but Wanda reaches out an arm to block their path. “Actually, I was thinking we should have a talk. Let’s go into the other room.”

Wanda’s hand is enclosed around Y/N’s wrist, practically dragging them away into a spare bedroom. Once the door is shut behind them, Y/N snatches their hand back from Wanda’s grip. “What’s gotten into you?” Wanda scowls. “What’s gotten into me? Y/N, you’ve been acting very strangely the last couple of days. I think you need to relax.” The word seems charged with some sort of energy, and Y/N takes a step back, as if to avoid it. “Are you trying to mind control me?”

Wanda’s lips tighten. “Why would I do that?” She says, forcing a laugh. Y/N raises an eyebrow. “Well, of all the ways to deny mind control, I have to say that was the least convincing.” Wanda folds her arms across her chest. “You sound paranoid. Why would I want to control your mind?” Y/N starts to pace back and forth across the room. “That’s the problem- I don’t know. I don’t know a lot of things, actually.” Y/N stops walking, and faces Wanda again. “I can’t remember anything about my life before we got to Westview. I know about my powers, and I know about you, but that’s it. Why is everything else a blank?”

Wanda frowns. “Aren’t I enough for you?” Y/N sighs. “You’re more than enough, Wanda, which is why it hadn’t occurred to me before now. I just keep feeling like something is wrong, and I need to wake up and figure out what it is, but every time I try I feel like you’re always there to stop me from remembering.” Wanda’s concerned expression shifts into a colder stare. “Don’t try to make me the villain. I will always care about you most of all, before anyone.” Y/N can’t return her gaze. “I wish I could believe that, but I keep starting to remember things. I think something happened to me, but I can’t remember what it was. You won’t let me remember what it was.”

Wanda’s eyes flash with ice. “I will do what I want. I’m doing everything to protect you, and I don’t know why you can’t be content with that.” Y/N’s face hardens. “I can’t trust you anymore, Wanda. You won’t let me.” Y/N strides to the door, throws it open. “I’d come up with one last snappy comeback for the show, but I suppose you’re in charge of all the scenes, aren’t you?” With that, Y/N storms away, leaving Wanda standing there in shocked anger.

Cameras focus on Wanda, who is reassuring the twins that everything is fine. Cameras do not pick up Y/N L/N, who is moving quickly towards the barriers of the town.

Y/N’s blood is pumping through their veins, surges of adrenaline making their eyes glow violet with power. There’s something on the tip of their tongue, a discovery that needs to be made. So, Y/N heads for the edge of town, towards the street where they first arrived in Westview. As they approach the city limits, Y/N’s head tilts up in awe. There’s a line designating the edge of town, and beyond that, a tall barrier glistening with magic. No other human would have been able to see it, but the magic of centuries of witches run through Y/N, and their eyes can pick up details that no one else can see.

Y/N comes to a stop in front of the town boundary, and reaches out a hand. Where their fingers touch the barrier, scarlet light is replaced by indigo. With a movement of their hands, Y/N draws aside the barrier as if it were a curtain, the light changing into purple wherever she walks. Through the boundary, Y/N can see the town beyond, but it lacks the charming simplicity of Westview- instead, there are armored vehicles and encampments, all of them military. Scores of soldiers stand guard, watching her approach. Just as Y/N fully steps through the boundary, however, they collapse to the ground.

Pain swirls around Y/N like a storm. As Y/N watches, fragments of their very being begin to drift away. It’s as if Y/N is being eroded by time itself, a statue being carried away to dust and rubble in the span of seconds. There’s a shout from across the encampment, and a woman with dark hair runs up to her. The woman - Darcy, Y/N can read her mind - is restrained by guards, but in a weakened gesture Y/N uses her abilities to pull the soldiers away from her. Darcy sprints up to Y/N, but she seems unable to save them. Y/N croaks out a question. “What happened to me?” Tears fill Darcy’s eyes. “You died in the battle against Thanos. You sacrificed yourself to save all of us.” As Y/N hears Darcy’s words, a sense of clarity seems to enter them, and Y/N’s eyes clear at last, even as her body breaks down into shards of pure magical energy.

Cameras stay on the Maximoff-L/N home, where Wanda and Agnes sit with the twins. Recordings do not pick up the incident currently occurring on the Westview boundary.

Billy turns to his mother suddenly. “Mom, something’s wrong with Y/N. I can hear their thoughts in my head.” Wanda looks up at him. “What do you mean?” Billy looks terrified. “Y/N’s in pain, so much pain. I can hear them screaming. Mom, I think Y/N is about to die.” Wanda and Agnes both rise at the same time, expressions of terror mirroring each other. Agnes murmurs something about having to go, and she quickly disappears out the door while Wanda does her best to locate her spouse. Wanda flings out her arms, eyes flashing scarlet with the magnitude of the power she is about to use. Around Westview, the boundary begins to expand.

As soon as Agatha closes the front door behind her, she instantly vanishes, appearing in the space near the boundary. She stares with an open mouth as the barrier surrounding the town glows an angry crimson, and glides forward across the ground. After a second, the boundary leaves behind a single body, lying alone in the grass. Agatha runs to it, and has to choke back a scream at the sight of her child.

Y/N should have healed. They should have started healing, they should not be in this much disrepair. Y/N is lying crumpled on the ground, watching their body begin to disintegrate away. Agatha kneels over her child. “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you getting better?” Y/N smiles up at her. “The power of the Infinity Stones cannot be undone forever. I was called to die long ago, and Wanda can’t reform me for much longer.” Agatha shakes her head, tears starting to course down her cheeks. “I’m not ready to let you go. Not yet. I just found you.”

Y/N’s eyes glow with warmth, and they place a trembling hand on Agatha’s cheek. “We were never supposed to meet, so any hour together was already on borrowed time. I’m grateful to have this much.” Y/N’s head tilts to the side, as if listening to an approaching sound. “Wanda is coming. You’ll have to go before she gets here, because she doesn’t know who you really are.” Agatha is shaking her head in refusal. “I can’t leave you here. I can’t let you die.” Y/N’s hand clasps onto Agatha’s, gripping it tightly. “None of us can really die, not forever. I’ll stick around, even if it’s on the other side. Now go, before it’s too late.” Agatha takes in one last look at her child, then vanishes into the empty air, just as Wanda bursts into view on Y/N’s other side.

Wanda falls to the ground beside Y/N. “I didn’t want this to happen. I should have told you everything. Y/N, you-” Y/N cuts her off gently. “It’s alright, Wanda. I know. I died at the battle against Thanos, and I would like nothing more than to be able to come back and stay here with you, but life has a way of not always following through.” For a second, the dying Avenger thinks it’s raining, until Y/N realizes that it’s just Wanda’s tears falling onto their cheeks.

Wanda forces back a sob as she watches Y/N’s body begin to dissolve away. “What do I tell the boys when you don’t return? How are we supposed to keep going?” Y/N smiles at her, pure and lacking in the bittersweet tinge that had always tainted it before. “The boys will have you, and that’s all any of us needed. You’re the one that will always matter, Wanda, even after I’m gone. I knew that when I met you, and I’ll know it even after I close my eyes.”

Wanda leans over, presses her forehead to Y/N’s. “I love you, Y/N. I love you so much.” Y/N laughs, the sound slightly tinny as their chest turns to ash. “I love you too. I’ll see you soon.” Wanda closes her eyes and kisses Y/N softly. When she opens her eyes again, she is kneeling alone in the middle of a grassy field. Y/N has finally been laid to rest.

Cameras begin to refocus on the Maximoff-L/N home, but there’s a flash of scarlet and they turn off, disappearing into the night. They are no longer necessary. Wanda leaves the studio, tears still drying on her cheeks. It is time to rebuild.

wanda maximoff tag list: @mionemymind

#wandavision #wandavision spoilers #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagines #scarlet witch #scarlet witch imagine #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch imagines #wandavision imagine #wandavision x reader #wandavision imagines #avengers #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #avengers imagines

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lesbianlotties · 3 years

Link

five times Deena and Sam met in secret (and one time they didn’t)

Chapters: 1/6 Fandom: Fear Street Trilogy (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Fraser/Deena Johnson Characters: Deena Johnson, Samantha "Sam" Fraser (Fear Street) Additional Tags: Pre-Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-Canon, High School, Cheerleaders, Band, Teenagers, Teen Romance, First Meetings, First Love, First Kiss, Fluff and Humor, Fluff, Happy Ending

Secrets.

Deena and Sam met by accident. They fell in love in secret.

But how long can they last together like that?

Chapter 1 - secret places

From one end of the football field, Deena stormed away from band practice. She had trouble accepting the fact that she was required to do an extracurricular activity to get through high school. She had chosen band as a result of pressure from her best friends. Kate was cheerleading captain and Simon was the school’s mascot. It was convenient to join band and at least have their company during the school’s games. Besides, she could get away with a lot because the guy in charge of the band had always had a crush on Kate, and he was aware Deena was her best friend. So, she could sneak away from practice, go sit down under the bleachers, and entertain herself thinking about how there’s hardly a good thing about living in Shadyside. Unbeknownst to Deena, a beacon of light and hope was heading her way at that exact moment.

From the opposite end of the field, cheerleading practice was going on a small break, which Sam was aggressively thankful for. Her mind was a jumbled mess, and the worst part? It was all her fault. In retrospect, she knows she went into cheerleading because she longed to be in those girls’ company. Maybe she should have expected that same thing would be the worst part about it. She was professional, respectful, not a creep, she repeated in her mind again and again. But just one fleeting touch, one particular twist in a girl’s skirt, represented a great distraction. It made her think about things she didn’t feel even close to prepared to think about. Her thoughts got carried away, she felt overwhelmed, she needed to run away. How could she have known she was running straight toward the greatest distraction, the biggest challenge, the momentarily worst but eventually best thing that would happen to her…

One girl resenting the world around her. One girl troubled by her own thoughts and feelings. Both of them holding their heads down, walking fast, searching for a hiding place, and running right into each other.

“Fuck!”

“What the hell?!”

“Hey, watch where you’re going you…”

“I’m sorry, I was just…”

After they looked into each other’s eyes, there was no turning back. Because Deena gazed into crystal clear blue eyes and she didn’t see fear, she saw the light of a blue sky at the end of a dark tunnel. Because at the same time, Sam saw her brown eyes and couldn’t care less about the anger in them, she only felt the warmth of a home she hadn’t even met yet.

Nothing had prepared Deena for the moment she saw Sam for the first time. At her age, she felt almost surprisingly confident about herself, her feelings for other girls, and what that would mean for her life. But one thing was knowing she was interested in girls and a very different thing was being interested in one girl. This immediate attraction, this feeling of shocking delight, and being rendered speechless, that was completely new.

Similarly, Sam felt at a loss. Movies, songs, books, other girls’ stories had prepared her for this moment. However, they all pointed at the fact that it should be a guy standing in front of her, she should bat her eyelashes at him, he should pick up her dropped books, and someday they would get married, simple as that. But instead, she got Deena, wild hair, delicate features, and her band’s hat fallen in the ground in between them. Someone should pick that up. Sam’s eyes quickly looked around. No boys to bat her eyelashes to. No one watching. Just her and this girl and the opportunity to follow her instincts. Be herself.

In a flash, Sam had kneeled down, picked up the ridiculous hat and stood back up to give it to Deena. Miraculously, Deena seemed to get back to herself by the time she was staring at Sam’s face again. Even if “herself” was experiencing contradicting feelings. Defense mechanisms of apathy and toughness threatened to flare up. Hopeless kindness and attraction insisted on peering through. In the end, she accepted her hat and mumbled, “Thanks.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam repeated, “I was, um…”

“Furiously running away from something?” Deena raised a curious eyebrow.

It made Sam laugh. She wasn’t sure if she laughed at the joke, or as a nervous result of hearing Deena’s voice. Either way, she softly shook her head and started smiling as she introduced herself. “I’m Sam.”

“Deena,” the brunette replied. “So, was something chasing you, Sam?”

“No…” Sam answered. Her hand came up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. As if hearing Deena say her name wasn’t overwhelming enough, now she had to come up with a reasonable lie. “Cheerleading,” she blurted out, “can be, uh, overwhelming, sometimes.” Not completely a lie. But the other girl seemed to see straight through her.

“Right,” Deena said.

Her tone was enough to know she didn’t completely buy Sam’s words, but she wouldn’t dare pry for more information. Partially, out of politeness. Mostly because Deena didn’t really want to know more. She wasn’t known for being invested in many other people, her school, or her town. She had more than enough with her own problems. She really didn’t need anything else. But she couldn’t help it. Because on one side was Sam, nervous blue eyes, flushed cheeks, obviously anxious in her cheerleading uniform. Then across from her was Deena. Deena and her unexplainable instinct to offer a hand to this girl she just met and fight for her whatever kind of monster had made her feel like she needed to run and hide.

“Well, Sam. I hate to break it to you but,” Deena paused for dramatic effect and for the newfound pleasure of watching Sam’s eyes stare at her expectantly, “this is kind of my spot, you know?”

“Oh?” Sam stuttered, curious.

“Oh, yeah. Everyone needs a place to hide from Shadyside’s many horrors. And this place right here? It’s taken.”

“I see,” Sam nodded slowly, as a smile started to form on her pink lips. “I suppose you don’t want my company, do you?”

Deena studied her silently for a second, holding back her own smile. It was incredible the way that the more Sam seemed to relax and smile more, Deena did the entire opposite, her heart sped up considerably, feeling like it might burst out of her chest. She did everything she could to maintain her composure though, for the sake of the easy banter they had going on. Then she replied, “I’m not really the type that enjoys company.”

“So, I should go, right?”

Sam even took one step back and turned her body a little, as if she would willingly walk away from the most fascinating encounter of her life. This step she took also brought to both their attention the fact that somehow, during their conversation, they had moved even closer than necessary, closer than they had been at the beginning.

“No, you don’t,” Deena blurted out as soon as she saw Sam’s poor attempt at moving away. “You can stay,” she said, reaching out and just brushing her fingertips to the back of Sam’s hand. She didn’t mean for it to be a life-changing action, but the sparks of electricity that ran through both their bodies at once were undeniable.

“Are you sure?” Sam asked, a little breathlessly after that touch.

“Just don’t make it a habit,” Deena smiled at her. She had no way to foresee the months and months she would spend with Sam in that very spot. “And don’t tell anybody. I have a reputation, you know?” Then, she winked.

While she worked on recovering from that wink, Sam followed Deena to the best spot to hide from the world or, at least, the rest of their school. “Fine,” she replied finally, as the two of them smiled at each other, “It’ll be our secret.”

#this is how we're coping with the end of the trilogy ladies :)#fear street #deena x sam #sameena #fear street fanfiction #fear street trilogy #my fic

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in-my-feels-probably · 3 years

Text

INEFFABLE - Kaz Brekker

Chapter Fourteen

If you would like to read this on Wattpad, it’s on there as well, my @ is in_my_feels_probably and there’s a few visuals and better descriptions and stuff on there. otherwise, enjoy, let me know what you think, and you can check out my masterlist for updates and more. don’t forget to read the prologue, it’s important to the story!

INEFFABLE - Kaz Brekker

ineffable (adj.) too great to be expressed in words, utterly indescribable; too sacred to speak of.

Chapter Fourteen

The next morning, the Crows had made it back to the train that took them through the Fold. They were lying on their stomachs behind their carriage, watching out into the field. Elham could feel that Kaz’s body was tense next to hers, and she scooted closer to Inej, her side touching Inej’s. Inej didn’t seem to notice the movement, although Kaz seemed to relax a bit.

“How many are there?”

Kaz looked closer out into the field, scanning the area around the train for men. “Two. At some point at least one of them will have to go tell a superior what they found. We’ll go in then.”

Jesper turned to the Crows on his right. “Not to be that person, Kaz, but...are you sure you can drive that thing?”

Kaz looked certain, and he sounded exasperated, as if Jesper’s lack of faith in him was unjustified. “Yes.”

Elham rolled her eyes, mumbling. “Because you’ve driven a train before, yeah, I’m sure you’ve got this.”

He ignored her, turning to Jesper. “On the way to Kribirsk, while you were busy hugging bait--”

Jesper interrupted. “Milo. The goat’s name was Milo.”

“I was memorizing Arken’s timings.”

Inej looked uncertain. “Not to gang up on you, but, Jes has a point. Arken’s system was complicated and the ride was chaotic. No one would blame you for missing a count.”

Elham and Kaz both turned their heads, simultaneously speaking. “Jes?”

Jesper smiled. “It’s Suli, for friendship.”

Elham scoffed. “I may not know much Suli, but I can guarantee it’s not. Or is Jes, here, right, Inej?”

Kaz didn’t let her respond. “Trust me. Arken and I think alike.”

Elham chuckled. “Saints, I sure hope not.”

Before Kaz could respond, an explosion went off, and the Crows turned to watch the train go up in flames.

Elham suddenly couldn’t control her laughter, setting her forehead on her arms rested out in front of her.

“Of course.”

Jesper turned to her. “Too soon to appreciate the irony, am I right?”

Kaz ducked his head down, closing his eyes, jaw clenched. Elham noticed the movement next to her and murmured quietly next to him.

“Hey, it’s ok. We’ll figure it out, Kaz. There has to be another way across...and if there’s not, I’m not opposed to Jesper’s idea of opening up a bar and brewing beer. I could be a barmaid, yeah?”

Jesper chuckled. “You? A barmaid?”

“Beats being Heleen’s little fawn, right? Besides, I’d be a good barmaid.”

He was still laughing, but the humor had left. “Yeah, you’d be just about as good of a barmaid as you’d be Queen of the Barrel. And stop joking about Heleen, alright? It’s not funny.”

Elham smiled at him sadly. “If I don’t laugh, I’ll cry, Jesper.”

His face was full of pity, and she turned away, looking back down at her hands resting on her arms. Inej leaned closer, brushing her shoulder against Elham’s.

“I think you’d make a good Queen.”

Kaz finally spoke up, the ghost of a grin on his face. “A dangerous one, at least. I’d hate to be under your reign.”

Elham glanced up at him, smiling. “I’d spare you. Probably. I’d at least consider it.”

He rolled his eyes, standing up, motioning for the Crows to follow.

---

The Crows used the last of their money to get a room, and Kaz had spent the last half hour trying to figure out what to do. Elham took this time to practice with her new sword, Jesper duelling her with a piece of wood he had found.

He was out of breath, flailing around the room. “This isn’t fair, you know? You have a nice sword, I have a stick. You’re literally called the Valkyrie, this is not a Jesper talent, why can’t we use guns?”

“Stop whining, Jesper, you’re fine. Keep going, I need the practice.”

Kaz scoffed in his chair, almost laughing. “No, you don’t.”

Inej came in, clearly amused by Jesper being chased around the room. She turned to Kaz.

“The skiff is still here. Travelers downstairs are complaining. They were due to cross this morning.”

Kaz nodded. “Orders from the Black General. He plans to cross on it tomorrow.”

Jesper stopped running, holding his hands up in surrender. “The General? Is that the same general who tried to, oh yeah, kill us all? And use Elham to build a literal flaming wall of fire and darkness? That one?”

“He has the Sun Summoner.”

Elham turned to look at Kaz, face contorted in confusion. How did he know that? And why hadn’t he told her? Was there anything she could have done to stop it, to protect Alina? Inej stepped closer to her, clearly upset.

“Was this your plan all along? To have the General get her back so you can take her again?

“My plan is to get us across the Fold. We aren’t prepared for another fight.”

Inej raised a brow. “So you’re not going to take another run at Alina? And you’re really willing to let a million kruge go? All you want is to cross the Fold?”

Kaz grumbled, but nodded, standing up.

Jesper stepped forward. “Hang on. Are we talking about boarding a skiff with people who will recognize us? People who don’t like us much?”

Kaz pondered, turning to Inej. “We’ll have to blend in. Who else was on that skiff?”

“Some people from the winter fete. Dignitaries from Kerch and Novyi Zem on their way home.”

He raised a brow. “And now they’re audience to one more light show.”

He was silent for a moment, and Elham swore she could almost hear the gears turning in his head. She leaned closer to Jesper, whispering.

“Scheming face?”

He nodded, whispering back. “Scheming face. We’re not gonna like this, are we?”

Kaz finally spoke. “Jesper, how did you enjoy playing a Zemeni guard?”

---

By nightfall, a plan was set in motion. Inej was perched atop a balcony, waiting to signal Elham. Elham waited until she got a nod from Inej, and turned to see a group of men walking her way. Kaz and Jesper came out of the alley behind them, walking slowly.

Elham approached the group of men, a smile on her face. “Excuse me, sir?”

One of the men stepped forward, smiling. “Yes, miss?”

Elham smiled, moving closer to the man like she was going to tell him a secret. He leaned in and waited. She set her hands on his shoulders, lightly gripping at his coat. She could hear the man's friends chuckling behind him. Before he could speak, she drove her knee up into his gut, sending him bending over and stumbling to the ground, clutching his stomach. She delivered a quick kick to his face, and he was out cold.

The man’s friends quickly scrambled to their friends' side, checking to see if he was ok. “You bitch, what did you do that for?”

One of them stood to move towards her, and she gripped the hilt of her sword, but Kaz and Jesper beat her to it. Kaz used his cane, Jesper used the base of his pistol, and they both swung at the same time, each taking out one of the remaining men, knocking them unconscious.

Jesper smiled, bending down to grab one of the men under his shoulders. “Nice job, love. “

He turned to Kaz, who hadn’t moved. “Are you gonna help?”

Kaz just swung his cane up into his grip, holding it up for Jesper to see. Elham rolled her eyes.

“Oh. Well isn’t that convenient for you? Elham...please?”

She sighed, grumbling. She hooked her arms under the smallest looking man, lugging him up. “Fine! Only because I nearly cut you earlier and I’m still feeling slightly guilty.”

“That was a very close call, by the way, I think you still owe me.”

“Jesper! I’ll drop him!”

“Fine, fine. Come on.”

---

Ten minutes later, Jesper had successfully stripped one of the men from his outfit, placing it on himself. He was admiring himself in the mirror, smoothing down his coat.

Inej was rolling her eyes. “You look fine.”

“Oh, I look more than fine.”

Without looking up from the papers Kaz was fabricating, he handed Elham the dress she had worn at the fete.

She grabbed it from him. “You’re not serious? Why does Inej get to wear the cool coat and I’m stuck in a dress again?”

“Because. We’re blending in. You’re supposed to look nice, like the rest of the wives who came from the winter fete will.”

Elham peeked out from the corner she had ducked behind to change. “Wives?”

“You’re playing Jesper’s.”

Jesper grinned, turning to Elham. “My love! I must say, I do like you in a dress.”

Elham grumbled, stepping out from the corner, once again in the dress. “First your wife, now Jesper’s, why do your plans always involve me playing a wife?”

Inej chuckled. “He had you play his wife? I would have loved to see that. You already argue like an old married couple, it wouldn’t be that much of a change.”

Elham’s cheeks heated up, and she suddenly found the fabric of her dress very interesting, fiddling with it. Kaz finally looked up from his papers, quickly changing the subject.

“Just be happy I’m letting you keep that sword strapped to your back. If they ask why you have it, just say you bought it in town as a souvenir or gift or something, and that you don't want it damaged in the cargo hold. I’m sure you can think of something dramatic enough that one of those pampered wives would say before causing a scene their husband would have to buy their way out of.

Before Elham could come up with something sarcastic as a rebuttal, he continued. “Alright, I made some edits to the papers. Should be enough to get us through the checkpoint and onto the skiff.”

Jesper leaned forward, looking confused at his paper. “Huh? No one is ever going to believe I’m that old.”

Kaz only looked up at him. “You tell yourself that.”

Jesper scoffed, clearing his throat and stomping off. Kaz smirked, looking back down at his papers. Inej smiled, and Elham called after Jesper dramatically.

“It’s alright, my love! I like older men!”

He called back to her, huffing. “Shut up Elham!”

---

The Crows were now in line to board the skiff, papers in hand.

The guard at the table spoke. “Consider yourselves lucky. You’re traveling with the Black General and the Sun Summoner, which means you’re about to witness the destruction of the Fold.”

Elham mumbled under her breath, stepping up closer in line. “Yes, I’m so lucky to be boarding with people who want to kill me, very excited to be here, honestly.”

Jesper stepped up to the guard, handing him his papers along with Elham’s. She stood at his side with her arm linked through his, smiling. The guard looked over the papers, glancing up questionably.

Jesper smiled. “I know. I look amazing for my age.”

The guard shook his head, handing them back. “Well, I thought you looked older.”

Jesper let out a pained laugh, and Elham hid her smile, grabbing his hand. “Come on, love.”

They headed to the skiff, when the crowd started whispering amongst themselves, glancing behind them. The Crows turned to see Alina emerge from the tent, a black cloak engulfing her. The Darkling followed closely behind, scanning the area.

Elham quickly turned back around, seething. “Please let me kill him.”

Kaz scoffed, using his cane to push her forward. “Not a chance...well, at least not today. I’ll consider it again later.”

---

They boarded the skiff, quickly moving to the back, hiding in the shadows, away from Alina and the Darkling at the front.

Jesper spoke quietly. “ Good news? It’s just as terrifying as I remember.”

Elham turned to him. “How is that good news? We’re completely exposed.”

Growling was heard in the distance as the Fold drew closer, and Elham felt her heart sink.

Jesper sighed. “If I’m meant to die today, and one of you survives, make sure I have an open casket.”

Elham gripped Jesper’s hand, giving it a squeeze. Kaz kept his eyes locked on the Darkling.

“No one’s dying today. No mourners, eh, Creed?”

Elham grimly smiled at him, and the Crows replied in unison. “No funerals.”

The skiff plunged into darkness.

---

A/N - we're in the last episode of content now, only a few more chapters to go! i hope you've enjoyed so far and are happy with the story, i'm excited to get the rest out and put the rest of those little details i was excited about into the story. we still have a lot of cool stuff for this episode to go through, and is could have another chapter out soon. let me know what you thought, and thank you for the support!

#wattpad #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #six of crows imagine #six of crows #shadow and bone #in my feels probably #inferni #ineffable #grishaverse #x reader #oc

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thosewickedlovelies · 3 years

Text

Into the Woods: chapter 1 | Frankie Morales x GN!Reader

Summary: Neither you nor Frankie are expecting to run into anyone in the middle of the woods.

Tags: none!! all audiences!

Word Count: 3,054

Note: HE’S HERE!!! Please enjoy the official first installment of the outdoors insta frankie series 🌳📷😍 So much love to the wonderful @yoditorian for coming up with this concept and Frankie’s IG name, and also helping me brainstorm 💗💗💗

Backstory

---

Francisco Morales loves this shit. Walking for hours without seeing another soul, nothing to think about but where to place his feet on the path ahead of him. Assuming he’s following a path at all. These are his woods- the country surrounding the house he’s lived in for years, a place just shy of isolated from the nearest town. They’re not really his, legally. He’s not exactly sure what the rules of land designation entail, but it’s not a national park, and no one has ever chased him up about the occasional wood-chopping or campfire-building he does.

So he walks.

It’s a damn perfect day for it, too. Brilliantly sunny with a hint of breeze, rustling the greenery around him and carrying the scents of sun-warmed leaves and late summer flowers. The birds are in high spirits, their vibrant chirping filling the air with chatter. Screeches of alarm, sometimes, too- a side effect of hiking with a giant energetic dog. Frankie watches ruefully as Oso crashes off into the undergrowth again, doubtless chasing down some poor creature.

He slows his pace to wait for her, taking the opportunity for a water break. His heavy pack thuds to the ground. Frankie grunts as he stretches, rotating his shoulders and flapping his sweaty t-shirt away from his back. I should really hike along the river more often, he muses. He doesn’t mind working up a sweat (obviously), but a ready supply of cool water during a long hike does wonders for one’s well-being.

“Boof!” Oso’s deep bark as she returns brings Frankie’s attention to her.

“Yeah? Would you like that, too? A nice swim in the river to cool you down?” He crouches to ruffle her neck fur the way she likes. Oso only pants in answer, blinking at him adoringly.

She slurps thirstily as Frankie pours some water from his bottle into her mouth. He chuckles. “Don’t worry, Osita, we’ll be near some water soon.”

Their goal today is a small pond Frankie had only found earlier this year. It’s a good spot for his campfire cooking, as well as endlessly photogenic. This is marginally important to him, as he attempts to keep a regular diary of his wanderings through instagram. It’s mostly for fun, but like anyone else, he isn’t immune to the particular buzz from his posts unexpectedly getting a high number of likes.

But he had also discovered that he wasn’t the only one with this hobby. There were whole communities of people out there who found peace the same way he did, and they happily gave advice if ever he posted about a struggle.

Frankie pauses again a short way away from the pond to make sure he’s on course. Oso sniffs around excitedly, bounding off again while Frankie checks his GPS. “Huh.” Looking around, he laughs at himself a little when it tells him he’s almost walked past it. He rotates to his left and thinks he spots the telltale gap in the trees ahead. He tucks the GPS away.

Oso barks from somewhere ahead of him. A split second later, a human yelp sounds from the same direction. His eyes widen.

“Shit!” Frankie breaks into a run. In all the years he’s been out here, he rarely sees other people this far from the trails. “Oso!” he yells. “Here, girl!”

Oso isn’t aggressive (unless the situation warrants it), but whatever new friend she thinks she’s meeting won’t know that. Frankie races toward where he judges the noise came from, heart pounding. He bursts through some bushes and is almost knocked down by his beast jumping up to greet him.

“Hey, girl, who was- no!” Oso peels away again across a bit of clear ground, her collar slipping through Frankie’s fingers. He’s barreling toward where her tail wags from behind a bush, when you stand.

Frankie skids to a stop so abruptly his feet slide out from under him. His ass hits the ground with a thud, his rucksack taking only part of the fall. He scrambles upright gracelessly, clumsy with the weight on his back, never taking his eyes off of you.

You stare at each other.

Nothing about this moment feels real to Frankie- you could announce that you’re the dryad who rules this forest and he would believe you, that’s how unlikely your appearance is. Shifting sunbeams dapple your skin, and even from several feet away he can tell that you have the most striking eyes he’s ever seen.

For a second your gaze flicks down to the side. You lean slightly as if something has nudged you, and as you move your hand away from it Frankie realizes you’re holding something.

Shit. He returns to his senses. Is that a weapon?

He’s met people on the trails before, most of them harmless fellow hikers. But occasionally there are some with weird vibes, especially the farther away from the paths you got. He’s fully capable of defending himself, but that doesn’t mean he wants to have to.

“Oso! Here!” Frankie says sternly. Your expression doesn’t change as you watch the dog trot over to him. Jaw set, wide eyes tracking his every motion.

He supposes he can’t blame you for being wary. Or armed. It’s a perfectly reasonable response to running into a strange man in the middle of the woods. He knows he’s not exactly the picture of reassurance. Tall and broad, probably too sweaty to believably claim he’s on a casual hike. He decides to speak.

“Sorry to startle you.” Frankie keeps his hands by his sides where you can see them, resting one on Oso’s head. “I wasn’t expecting to see anyone this far from the trails.”

Your tense stance doesn’t relax. “Me either.”

His head tips to the side. “Do you come to this area regularly, then?” He tries to keep his voice slow and soothing.

He can see you assessing him, trying to measure how safe he is. “I have been recently. What about you?”

“All the time. Me and Oso take nice long walks.” Frankie pats the dog’s head in a more formal introduction. “I like to come out here and cook.” Your brow furrows at that, bemusement appearing amidst your guarded features. Before you can respond, he prompts “What are you doing this far off the main paths?”

“Foraging. You come all the way out here to cook?” Disbelief is etched in every line of your face.

Well, when you say it like that.

Foraging. That makes perfect sense. Frankie follows a few of them on instagram. He’s always pleased when he notices the more obvious edible plants and berries, but it’s not usually his focus. His vegetable garden at home takes up most of his efforts. It’s managed to thrive in the years since he started it after leaving the army, and it’s become a source of pride for him to be able to wander out, pick some things for the day’s meal, and head right into the woods.

“Yeah,” he responds. “Here, I can show you. I keep an instagram.”

Your eyebrows rise even higher at that.

Moving slowly and watching for your reaction, Frankie holds his hands up as he turns, keeping one in the air while the other makes a show of tugging his phone from a side pocket of his pack. He keeps the screen visible as he opens the app, then pulls his arm back in the beginning of an underhanded throw. Poised as such, he looks at you expectantly.

Now you’re almost frowning. Clearly still suspicious, but possibly fractionally less concerned about danger from a man willing to give his phone to a complete stranger in the woods. Hesitantly, you raise your hands to catch it.

Finally Frankie can make out that the thing in your hand in a canister of mace. The sight inexplicably relieves him. Pepper spray is a normal person’s defense, something that anyone might carry to help themselves feel safe. Far from the kind of weapon he would fear from someone angling for true violence.

All of this decided in the space of a second, Frankie gently tosses you his phone.

You’re so distracted by delighting in the prolific blackberry bushes which surround your pond that you don’t hear the approaching creature until it’s upon you.

You screech in shock at the massive fur-thing’s appearance, bowling you over from your crouch. It doesn’t seem bothered about wanting you to pet it, only wiggling and sniffing at you enthusiastically. You register the collar around its neck at the same you hear the shout.

“Oso!” That must be its name. “Here, girl!” The dog dashes away, then back, clearly torn about leaving her new friend so soon.

Icy adrenaline douses your system. That was a man’s voice, rough and cavernous. Who knows what kind of person he could be, no matter the earnestness of his dog? Your hands shake as you rip open your bag for the canister of mace you’ve never had to use.

There’s a pronounced rustle and then his voice sounds again, terrifyingly close. “Hey, girl, who was- no!”

Shit. The dog is back, looking at you eagerly, rear in the air and tail wagging like this is an exciting game. You have to choose a course of action quickly. Twisting the safety off the pepper spray, you rise to your feet.

His reaction is almost funny; you think you might have laughed if this was literally any other scenario. Like a cartoon character slipping on a banana peel, the man wrenches himself to a stop with such force his feet fly up from the ground. The contents of his bulging pack crunch against the earth, but he barely seems to notice he’s fallen, keeping his eyes on yours the entire time he cycles back to his feet.

You stare at each other.

That’s a man all right. Towering even from this distance, with wide shoulders that help the impression. His eyes are round and stunned, the cap on his head knocked slightly askew and freeing sweat-dark curls to spring around his ears.

Your first thought is that he looks warm. Not temperature warm, although the gleam of sweat on his neck confirms that, too. But approachable warm. There’s a softness to his body that belies the muscle his motions highlight, creases around his eyes that wrinkle brown like tree bark in the sun.

Then his dog noses your thigh, reminding you that you have pepper spray in your hand because you’re in the middle of the damn woods with a potentially threating stranger. You risk a half-second glance down to move the canister away from her face.

You regard the man with stony distrust, fear flushing your face and neck with heat. Confrontation makes the blood roar in your ears, but it gradually quiets as he orders the creature away from you. For several more seconds the only sound is rustling leaves.

He clears his throat. “Sorry to startle you,” he says. “I wasn’t expecting to see anyone this far from the trails.”

His voice doesn’t sound as harsh now that he’s not frantically shouting for his dog. Still you keep your answer short. “Me either.”

His head tilts inquisitively. “Do you come to this area regularly, then?”

That’s a fair question. He has a right to be curious too. “I have been recently. What about you?”

“All the time. Me and Oso take nice long walks.” The man pats her head, and the dog’s ears perk up. “I like to come out here and cook.” Wait, what? Before you have a chance to process that, he continues. “What are you doing this far off the main paths?”

You won’t be deterred. “Foraging. You come all the way out here to cook?” If this is some elaborate murder setup, that’s not a very plausible lie.

“Yeah,” he answers. “Here, I can show you. I keep an instagram.”

You’re slightly more skeptical than fearful now. You watch silently as the man turns in place, putting the side of his backpack in your line of sight so you can see him fish his phone out. He makes his actions slow and obvious. The white background of an instagram page glows on the screen as he retracts his arm in a throwing pose. Clear eyes meet yours.

What? This guy is just going to...give you his phone, no questions asked? Taken aback, you can feel the deep grooves of a frown between your eyebrows as you consider.

You’re hesitant to reveal the pepper spray, but if there’s still some possibility this is a trick, he might second-guess attacking you if he sees you’re armed. You ready yourself for a catch.

Which you accomplish, easily, his toss landing the phone right in your hands. The dog lurches forward, but this time man has a grip on her collar and she’s forced to halt with a whine.

“Sorry, girl. We’re not playing fetch right now, okay? Sit!” The man doesn’t even seem concerned with monitoring you, looking down seriously at his dog as he speaks.

You keep one eye on them as you turn your attention to the screen. Frankieintheforest, reads the username at the top of the page. Just a guy out in the woods, continues his bio. Well, that’s accurate, anyway. Frankie, huh? You spare him another glance, matching various features of him to the ones in his photos. A broad hand here, sturdy hiking boots there. Several glimpses of the same flannel that’s currently tied to the strap of his backpack. His face in a few group shots. You click on an image which shows Oso parading around a yard with a grinning toddler on her back. “Ferocious beast carries away yet another victim,” quips the caption. An involuntary smile tugs at the corner of your mouth.

There are too many photos going too far back for it to be fake. You turn the screen toward him. “Cute kid,” you comment. “Is she yours?”

His eyebrows lift in surprise. “No,” the man half laughs. “My buddy’s. I’m just the godfather.” A small smile softens his face as he takes in the picture.

Being named godfather was nothing to sneeze at. You study the man carefully, keeping your face neutral. He seems genuine, his dog keen and friendly. Dogs were a good judge of character, right? Indicative of the character of their owner? He hasn’t demanded anything from you, not done anything threatening beyond just being here.

You glance between him and the phone again. “Frankie?” you question.

He raises one hand in a wave, directing a crooked sort of smile at you. “That’s me,” Frankie confirms.

You offer him your name in return. “Uh, you can have this back now.” You gesture with the phone.

He brings his hands up to catch it, and you thank every deity you know of when your throw connects. You’re at a bit of a loss for what to do next, however. You suppose this means you’re at a truce. But you still don’t think you’d be able to let yourself focus on foraging while knowing there’s a stranger wandering so nearby.

Frankie seems to be thinking the same thing. One hand rubs over the back of his neck. “Well,” he begins. “My plans for today were to sit by this pond and cook over a fire.” He points his thumb to the right, where not far away the reflection of sunlight on water wavers against the tree trunks.

“You can join me if you want.” He shrugs awkwardly. “I’m just gonna collect some tinder and then park it, so you don’t have to worry about me interrupting your foraging or anything.”

Oso finally wriggles free of his grasp and surges forward, leaping across to you with a triumphant woof! “Oso, no!” Frankie stumbles after her, only to stop after two steps, clearly unwilling to make you uncomfortable by getting too close. He looks on helplessly, hands flexing.

“It’s okay,” you assure him. This time you offer her your free hand to sniff, which she does, before promptly shoving her head beneath it for pets. Amused, you comply. Her multi-hued fur is soft beneath your fingers.

“You’re alright, aren’t you, Oso?” You dart a self-conscious glance back up to her owner, but he appears content to let you coo at his dog.

“She’s a good judge of character,” Frankie says simply.

You swallow. Those deep brown eyes linger over you, and this is all just a bit...much. “Right. Well. I’m just going to…” you ease back, hoping to convey ‘continue going about your business.’

“Oh, sure!” He takes a little hop backward. “I’ll be...here.” His hand makes a small circling motion to indicate a limited nearby area. “You’ll hear me before you see me. Or Oso.”

Frankie frowns slightly as if something has occurred to him. “Uh, she might want to follow you around today though. I can tie her to a tree if that would bother you? I don’t usually watch her too closely,” he admits sheepishly.

“Oh, that’s okay.” You realize that you mean it as your thoughts continue to form. “She’ll make for good protection if I meet any more big scary strangers.” You aim the last words down to the dog herself, sending a wry a sidelong glance to said stranger.

He chuckles again, a rasp of a sound like creaking branches. “That’s fair. But I meant it when I said I’ve never seen anyone else in this particular area. You’re pretty safe.” He punctuates his statement with a nod to the canister still in your hand, soft understanding clear in his face.

Your head ducks slightly. “Well,” you say again. ”I’ll..see you around. I guess.” You don’t wait for a farewell, turning to foist your pack back onto your shoulder. You strain your ears for any noise behind you as you flee, but there’s no sound of pursuit.

“Go ahead. Have fun, Oso,” Frankie calls, already at a distance from your quick pace. There’s a distinctly animal scurrying, and then the dog bursts into being by your side.

Your arms wheel as you jump. “Jeez, you are enormous,” you mumble, pausing to pet her again. Discreetly you look over your shoulder in time to see Frankie turn away from you, heading for your pond.

Post note: I know pepper spray is like, super illegal in the UK and other places, but it’s not abnormal to carry around in the US so just pretend it’s fine.

Taglist: @thirstworldproblemss, @leonieb, @computeringturtle

#frankie morales x reader #francisco catfish morales x reader #triple frontier fic #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #triple frontier #outdoors insta frankie

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queen-scribbles · 3 years

Text

The Long Burning Torch ch 3

Oh, look, another chapter for the 20s AU I started for the @shepherds-of-haven Summer Event, which has taken on a life of its own. In this chapter: A couple new (but familiar!) faces, and the plot thickens.

----

Five minutes into Ashtown proper, Xaeryn was exceedingly grateful for the directions Mr. Syndran had provided. He hadn’t been wrong comparing the place to a warren.

“You look lost, doll.”

Her head snapped up from the paper in her hand to meet the gaze of a lanky man lounging against a wall, a soft cap slouched down over his forehead. His--very familiar--green eyes were much more vivid in person than they had been in her scry.

Xaeryn arched a brow coolly. “And what led you to that conclusion?”

He smirked and pushed away from the wall. “The way you keep checking that paper for one, Sunshine.” His hands slid in his pockets. “Also, we don’t get dames that look like you here all that often. Anything I can help you find?”

“You’re awfully helpful,” Xaeryn said, resisting the urge to run a hand down her outfit.

He doffed his cap and sketched an exaggerated bow, giving her a wink when he righted. “Consider me the Ashtown welcoming committee.”

“And what a charming first impression you make.” Xaeryn regarded him for a moment or two more, then decided to see how things would play out. “I’m trying to find Chase Trinaeste.”

The man’s eyes twinkled, bright as the scarf tossed ‘round his neck. “I think I can help with that. Right this was, Sunshine,” he said blithely, as if he wasn’t the aforementioned Trinaeste himself.

A large part of Mr. Syndran’s adamant belief Thieves guild had been involved in the theft rode on Trinaeste’s presence in her scryed vision. “He trusts his lieutenants with the vast majority of their... jobs,” Mr. Syndran had explained, nose wrinkling slightly in distaste. “His being there shows it was a heist of high importance to their gang, fitting the theft of an artefact.”

Xaeryn had no reason to doubt his logic. But she’d be a fool to show all the cards she held at the outset.

“My name is not ‘sunshine’,” she said briskly instead.

“Well, then, doll, what am I calling ya?” Trinaeste asked, unruffled by her tone.

“Miss Shrike will do for now, I think. And what do I call you?”

“Who says you need to call me anything?” he returned as he led her down several new streets in quick succession.

“It might come in handy if I want to commend your hospitality to Mr. Trinaeste,” she countered, trying her best to memorize their route. Left, left, right...

“I’ll get by, Miss Shrike,” Trinaeste said with a light laugh.

He was very good at dodging, she did have to give him that. “For politeness’ sake, then. Perhaps I’d feel better about following you into the depths of Ashtown if I at least knew your name.”

He laughed again, pausing by a wall decorated with a... creative interpretation of a cat’s head. “Well, then. I have a confession to make, in that case.”

“Oh?” Xaeryn marked the two brunos nearby--one down an alley, the other lounging by a door--despite their affected nonchalance. “And what would that be?”

“Chase Trinaeste at your service.” He skipped the exaggerated bow this time, instead shoving his hands in his pockets, elbows akimbo, and grinning at her cheekily. “Now that you’ve found me, what do you plan to do with me?”

“First thing that comes to mind is ask why we couldn’t have the introductions back where we first spoke?”

“Let’s say I feel safer on home turf, doll. Just in case your reason for wanting me is less fun than I’m hoping.”

She glanced significantly at one of the toughs. “And if this arrangement doesn’t thrill me?”

“You can leave,” Trinaeste said with a shrug. “We ain’t going to stop you.” His grin widened, cat-like. “But you seem the type who doesn’t like leaving empty-handed, Miss Shrike.” He gestured toward the door next to one member of their small audience. “Whatever it is you’re after, I think we’ll be more comfortable in my office, don’t you?”

She doubted he cared between the two locations as strongly as she doubted it was an actual office, but Xaeryn did have to admit some privacy for this conversation would be a good thing. “Do I strike you as the type to just follow strange men into unfamiliar buildings, Mr. Trinaeste?”

He laughed. “A dangerous question, doll. You strike strike me as the type who enjoys a good mystery.”

(Or even a bad one, Xaeryn finished wryly to herself.)

Trinaeste raised his hands in a gesture of innocence. “On my honor as head of the guild, I promise you will leave in the same condition and carrying the same things as when you got here, so long as you don’t threaten me or mine.”

“A fair deal,” she said in assent, and nodded toward the door. “After you.”

Red would have a heart attack if he knew what she was doing. She swallowed a laugh at the thought; less than a week reconnected and his reaction was one of the first things to cross her mind. Her gut said it would be a worthwhile risk. While Trinaeste was indisputably a dangerous man, there was a clear sense of ‘only when necessary’ to his skill that gave her confidence she would be fine.

“One more condition,” Trinaeste said as he led the way into the building. “Call me Chase. No idea who ‘Mr. Trinaeste’ is, but he sounds too high-class to be me.”

He’d kowtowed to her chosen address easily enough, and she did want him amenable to talking. She could grin and bear the informality for one conversation. “Very well.”

They didn’t go far from the outer door before Chase swung to the side through another doorway. Xaeryn almost tripped over the abruptness as she followed. There was no desk, or any other typical office furniture save chairs. There were five of those; loosely grouped on one side of the room. Opposite them a stack of shipping crates were shoved against a tapestry-hung wall. It was eclectic and flamboyant and (she’d just bet) full of secrets. A perfect match for the man now flopped in one of the fairly-comfortable looking chairs and grinning at her again.

“So, Miss Shrike, what did you want from me?”

(From the way his eyes twinkled, that phrasing was very much on purpose.)

Xaeryn chose her seat and her reply with equal care; the former so she could see both her host and the door, the latter to convey intent without accusing. Yet. “I’m investigating a theft and have reason to believe you may have seen something helpful.”

Chase laughed. “You think I did it.”

“You do helm the Thieves guild, Chase,” she said lightly, crossing her legs and flicking dust off her hem. So much for trying to be subtle.

“Fair point,” he conceded with another laugh, before leaning forward to brace his elbows on his knees and his chin on his palms with still-twinkling eyes. “So, what is it you think we stole?”

“An artefact.”

She was interrupted before giving a description as Chase’s grin went cat-like gain and the twinkle in his eyes shifted to a hard glitter. “Syndran set you on us, didn’t he? What did he lose?”

“Mr. Syndran didn’t lose anything. Transit is a possibility for when a piece was stolen,” Xaeryn said primly. “And while, yes, he may have pointed me in your direction as an avenue of investigation, I wouldn’t be much of a detective if I followed accusations that lacked supporting evidence.”

“Ah, you’re a private dick,” Chase smirked, eyes once again twinkling in amusement. “Tell you what, Miss Shrike, since you bein’ here is bountiful evidence Riel’s people not only dropped the ball, but bad enough he doesn’t want to involve the cops, I’ll tell you whatever you need to help. That being the best news I’ve had this week and all.”

She arched a brow. “Whatever I need?”

He spread his hands. “I’m an open book, doll.”

“Chase!” a new voice scolded. The owner, a slender brunette, paused in the doorway to scowl along with her critique. “You know better than to offer open season on guild secrets like that!”

“Calm down, Ari.” Chase slouched back, waving one hand in Xaeryn’s direction. “Our guest seems a smart enough dame to not ask for more than she needs.” That glimpse of danger was back under the last word.

“I’m not after your secrets,” Xaeryn promised. “Just trying to find a missing artefact.”

“And what artefact would that be?” Ari asked, still wary, and still poised in the doorway. Xaeryn noted but didn’t comment on the jangling stack of bracelets that sheathed a good three inches of the other woman’s wrist.

“A pendent, this big.” she indicated the size. “Black stone and bronze.”

“Wasn’t us,” Chase said easily.

“You were witnessed along the transport caravan’ route.”

“Oh, we were casing it,” he acknowledged with a wink.

“Chase!”

He just grinned at Ari’s beratement. “We didn’t steal anything, though. Couldn’t get a good shot at what we were supposed to nick.”

“Supposed to?” Xaeryn interjected. “So this is something you were contracted to steal rather than...” She waffled a moment over word choice, “...personal?”

“Yeah. Like I said, though, we didn’t get anything.” Chase shrugged. “Just as well; our butter and egg man never showed his face after.”

“Hm.” Xaeryn made a mental note to look into how popular a target the caravan had become. “Did you notice anyone else who seemed to be casing it? Aside from your people?”

“N-” Chase’s brow furrowed and he stopped mid-negative reply. “There was that one mug Kato saw right before the trucks made the museum lot. Don’t have anything more than ‘foreign-looking’ and green hair, and he didn’t see where he went, just was a little too casual in his loitering, gave Kato an odd impression.”

It wasn’t a lead solid enough for her to really follow, but it did seem confirmation multiple parties were interested in the caravan. “I see. And what was your... client after?”

“That’s not something you need to know,” Ari said firmly.

“Knowing what else was and might yet be targeted will help my investigation, so I would have to disagree,” Xaeryn said just as firmly. “I’m not going to rat you out, in fact I plan to tell Mr. Syndran you were not responsible. But this information could be useful. Please.”

“A necklace. Gold, rubies, opals; sounded worth a pretty lyss,” Chase said, turning to flash a grin at Ari. “She did say please.”

Ari sighed but didn’t protest.

“Alright I’ll be getting out of your hair, then.” Xaeryn stood, smoothing her skirt. “I appreciate your talking to me, It was enlightening.”

She held out a hand to shake, and Chase kissed the back of it instead, shooting her a wink as she rolled her eyes. “Not a problem, Miss Shrike. Good luck catching your bad guys.”

Xaeryn couldn’t help a small chuckle at the comment as she withdrew her hand and headed for the door. She half-expected to be blocked from exiting, but that proved unfounded. She retraced the route to the edge of the Ashtown district, then headed for her office to call Mr. Syndran just as it started to rain.

---

Her call to update Mr. Syndran went about as well as it could; he was disappointed Thieves guild hadn’t panned out as a lead--Xaeryn detected some personal disappointment as well as professional they weren’t responsible. “Do you have anything beyond their word they didn’t do it?”

“No,” Xaeryn said, leaning forward over her desk to skim her notes as they talked. “Well... their word and a gut feeling they were being level.” Which is all I really have that you aren’t responsible. She was polite--and wise--enough to not make the comparison. “They were hardly going to let me search their warehouse.”

“So what’s your next step? There’s not long until the exhibit opens, and I dislike the number of dead ends you’ve encountered.”

“Oh, I’m not happy about them, either, believe me.” Xaeryn pursed her lips and fought to keep a sharp note out of her voice at his implied censure. “Next is talking to the curator at the Hall. They may have seen this green-haired foreigner Thieves guild mentioned, or something else suspicious that didn’t show when I scryed. Either way, I can get more information about the exhibit and the pendent’s owner.”

Mr. Syndran sighed. “I highly doubt this convenient and vague ‘foreigner’ exists as anything other than a red herring to lead you away from the Thieves guild, but your other goals are sound. Let me know what you learn, if anything.”

“Of course.” They exchanged farewells and hung up. Rain still pattered against the window, and a quiet growl from her stomach reminded Xaeryn she was overdue for lunch, so she bumped back calling the Hall in favor of a quick bite to eat.

And it was quick; she loved mysteries but hated being stymied at every turn like this case had done. She wanted a workable lead. While she agreed with Mr. Syndran the ‘foreigner’ was too vague to pursue on his own, green hair was far from common in Haven, even in the Mage community. If someone else made mention or he was spotted later, it wouldn’t be hard to connect the sightings. For now, she’d call the museum, speak to the curator. Hopefully that would get her somewhere.

The secretary who answered her call sounded both bored and frazzled, which Xaeryn found impressive. “Haven Hall of History and Culture, how may I help you?”

“My name’s Xaeryn Shrike, I wanted to speak to the curator about-”

“Ms. Acquell is very busy,” the receptionist cut her off. “We have an exhibit opening in just over a week, she doesn’t have time for meetings with random curiosity seekers or history aficionados right now.”

Xaeryn let a bit of edge color her voice. “I’m a private detective Mr. Syndran hired in regard to the artefact caravan.”

A long pause, the line crackling with silence, then, “Can you be here in half an hour? I’m sure she can clear some space in her schedule, though there may be bit of a wait.”

I thought you might say that. “I can. Thank you.”

“Very well.” The secretary hung up.

Xaeryn arched a brow at the receiver before she placed it back in the cradle. “See you shortly,” she muttered. Wonderful attitude for someone in such a socially involved position. She glanced out the window and was gratified to find the rain slacking off. She’d still drive, of course, but it would be less of a headache.

Xaeryn cleaned up from her lunch, gave her outfit a quick check to ensure it was still presentable after her visit to Ashtown and the Merchants Guild garage, and tucked her notepad back in her handbag before tugging on a hat and heading out the door.

The drive to the museum was uneventful aside from a couple pot holes and a pedestrian chasing his umbrella into the street with nary a regard for traffic. Still, Xaeryn did arrive in one piece. A determined breeze tugged at her as she made her way up the steps, and she almost dropped her handbag in her instinctive grab to hold her hat on.

It’s pinned, you silly goose, she chided herself ruefully, and brushed drizzle off her clothes as she stepped inside. She exchanged a brief conversation--light on pleasantries--with the receptionist,and was waved toward one of the long cultural wings to wait for when Curator Acquell found a moment to speak with her. She perched on a bench that sat between a statue of the first High Augar and a glass case displaying a map of the known world at the time. At this hour and with this weather, there weren’t many other people, and the gallery was mostly quiet.

Ample opportunity for Xaeryn to ruminate on the irony her chosen seat appeared to be smack in the middle of an exhibit on the Castigation, or one of the uprisings that followed. At least, if the painting across from her was anything to go by; a group of determined Norms gripping pistols as they surrounded a cluster of bloodied but unyielding Hunters whose hands glowed with grace as they clung to their weapons...

Xaeryn shook her head and very deliberately focused on reading her notes.

---

It took half an hour--closer to three-quarters--and Xaeryn had switched to roaming the gallery to take in the sights before a short, bespectacled blonde approached.

She hesitated briefly but noticeably before clearing her throat. “Are you... Miss Shrike?”

Xaeryn nodded and held out a hand to shake. “And you would be the curator?”

The blonde bobbed her head as she shook her hand. “Shery Acquell. I’m so very sorry about the wait.” She smoothed a hand down her rumpled brown and pink dress. “We’re terribly busy trying to get the new exhibit together.” She bit her lip. “Or, as together as we can get it, at least.”

“That’s actually what I’m here to talk to you about,” Xaeryn said. “But I think it’s something better discussed away from potential prying eyes and ears.”

“Oh, right, of course.” Miss Acquell briefly clasped her hands in front of her and bit her lip. “This way.” She gestured to a door. “We can speak in the Cultures of Blest wing if you don’t mind dodging crates and museum staff?”

“Not at all,” Xaeryn said as she followed the other woman through the indicated door. Getting to see behind the scenes of a museum exhibit was the opposite of an inconvenience, to her mind.

“It’s not terribly exciting, I’m afraid; lots of boxes and dust and swapping things around until you find the right arrangement. But I think we can find somewhere to talk. My office is a mess right now, or we could just go there.”

“It’s fine,” Xaeryn assured her. “A little dust won’t kill me. I dress practical for that very reason; no telling where an investigation will take me.”

“OH, that’s... smart.” Miss Acquell fiddled with her glasses and inclined her head toward an empty display pedestal. “That’s where the pendent will go, assuming it’s back before the exhibit opens.” Her face went red and she winced apologetically. “N-Not that I doubt your skill as a detective, Miss Shrike, it just seems to have vanished into thin air, and, well....” She half shrugged and let the words trail off.

“I’ve definitely hit enough dead ends for the comparison to be apt,” Xaeryn said, swallowing the spike of defensiveness to keep her tone level as she peeked at the other artefacts in the case. A belt with a snake-head buckle, a silver circlet set with a single moonstone, an ornately carved hair comb, a silver ring that resembled a basilisk eating its own tail. At least one item hummed quietly with magic of some kind, but enchantment and binding weren’t her forte, so Xaeryn couldn’t tell which. “So, to confirm, how long did the shipment sit before you and your staff started opening crates?”

“Oh, an hour?” Miss Acquell bit her lip. “Maybe two, at most? There was a... small kerfuffle in the art wing; some unruly children, and we didn’t get to the crates until that was settled. But there was a watchman outside and one in the museum, neither of them reported seeing anyone.” She played with her necklace. “As well as a Whitestone Couriers representative. Pink-haired young lady, very irate by the time I spoke to her, though that is understandable, with how long we kept her waiting.”

“Did you not have enough staff for someone to take care of the artefacts while others handled the... disturbance?”

“Normally we would have.” Miss Acquell stepped into a small alcove to move their conversation out of the way for the six or so staffers busily yet carefully removing things from crates to arrange in various displays. “But it was a lightly staffed day--Thursdays are usually slow--and I had a couple people who didn’t come in. We weren’t able to find anyone who could cover their shifts, so we were running a bit short.”

With Ms. Aerin keeping an eye on the artefacts once they reached the museum, it was no wonder Mr. Syndran was so convinced a potential theft would have occurred during transit. “What do you know about the pendent, Solimer’s torch? I’ve learn some things of its history, but what of more recent years? The last century or so?”

“A little,” Miss Acquell said, flicking a nervous glance to the side as a pair of workers fumbled the statue they were shifting. “The last century is a bit... muddy for that pendent. It’s changed hands several times, several people have made claims, few have been able to back them up. The current owner, Ms. Aescar, has the strongest claim. She can trace ancestry to the last known owner of the pendent.”

“Prior to the cheiftain of debated identity with whom it was rediscovered?”

She nodded. “Yes. The others who have tried to stake ownership claim ties to the debated chieftain, or the original tribe, or the first to conquer them, but none have ever clearly proven a connection like Ms. Aescar. And if they could, it turns into a debate predicated largely on the intricacies of right of conquest for who has the strongest claim.” She hesitated, wrung her hands. “There are some in the historical community--niche as this piece may be--who... feel it would almost be better if no further claims are validated. I-If someone can contest Ms. Aescar’s ownership, the pendent has to go in a vault until true provenance can be determined. Which means no one can display it....”

“And that process can take a very long time,” Xaeryn finished for her. It was an issue she’d run into a couple times during her years at Solhadur; an artefact she was researching was hard to get clear information about because three people had equally strong claims and it was tied up in the arbitration.

“Yes, it can.” Miss Acquell pursed her lips and looked back at the intended display. “For now, though, Ms. Aescar has a very open policy for lending it out. Far fewer requested protective measures than most. It’s as if...” she paused, brow furrowing for a moment, “as if she doesn’t really care what happens to it.”

Interesting. “Do you have her contact information? I’d like to speak with her if I could,”

“I do.” Miss Acquell nodded vigorously. “It’s in my office, so I’ll need a minute to dig it out.”

“No hurry,” Xaeryn said. “Are those watchmen here today by any chance? Accommodating as your staff has been with my other earlier inquiries, I haven’t gotten to talk to them yet.”

The curator, who had started for a nearby hall, paused and bit her lip again as she thought. “Theo is,” she finally said. “He was watching the outside lot that day. Today I think he’s in the exhibit on Norm innovation? But I can’t remember for sure. The schedule’s also in my office, I can check while I’m getting Ms. Aescar’s information.”

“Alright, I can wait.”

“Feel free to look around.” Miss Acquell waved a hand toward the progressing displays. “Just don’t touch anything? Some things would survive, but others are too fragile.”

“I generally avoid disturbing museum exhibits,” Xaeryn assured her. “I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

With a final nod and small nervous smile, Miss Acquell scurried off down the hall. From the way she’d talked about her office, Xaeryn gathered this might take more than a few minutes. She wandered through the half-assembled exhibits and display cases, careful to keep enough distance she didn’t disturb the staff or risk damaging anything.

A small smile curved her lips when she caught sight of a necklace--complete with matching cuff bracelets and a diadem--that fit the description of what Chase claimed his guild had been hired to steal. That backed his story up, at least. There was a placard declaring they had belonged to a Queen-Consort from Karzai once upon a time.

Xaeryn was engrossed in reading a Kettish tablet when Miss Acquell returned, and it took a moment to register her presence. In fact, it wasn’t until the curator cleared her throat timidly that Xaeryn’s focus was broken and she swung around.

“Sorry. This sort of thing is a passion of mine,” she explained. “Very easy to slip off to my own little world when I get a chance to indulge.”

“I understand,” Miss Acquell said with a faint smile. “I can be the same, when I get lost in my work. Here’s Ms. Aescar’s information” --she held out a small piece of note paper--”though I should warn you it’s for her estate out near the Jalis desert and she’s apparently not home much? Bit of an adventuress, away for weeks at a time without word of how long she’ll be gone. I’m honestly not sure if we’ve managed to contact her yet to tell her the pendent’s missing.”

“Thanks for the warning, both of them.” Xaeryn slipped the paper in her handbag after checking the legibility. “I’ll keep them in mind.”

“Theo is up in the innovations exhibit, if you want to speak with him.”

“Oh, I very much do. And if something comes up and I need to talk to you again, do you have daily office hours?”

Miss Acquell nodded, then blushed. “Oh, except... except Sunday,” she amended. “I-I have church.”

“Won’t be a problem, so do I.” Normally not a detail Xaeryn shared with strangers, but the woman seemed braced for blowback to the statement.

Her face lit up with the revelation, so it was apparently a good call. “Oh, really? Where do you go?”

“The Whitestone Cathedral,” Xaeryn said. She liked the crowds, the ability to simply sit in the back, worship, and slip out before too many people even noticed she was there and tried to be chummy.

“Oh, that one’s too big for me,” Miss Acquell blurted with a bashful laugh. “I go to the chapel over by the docks.”

“I know it,” Xaeryn said with a nod. She’d had a couple cases over that way. “Thank you very much for all your help, Miss Acquell. This visit has been very informative.”

“I’m glad to have been of help, and you can just call me Shery.” She held out a hand to shake farewell.

“Goodbye, then, Shery. And good luck setting up your exhibit.” Xaeryn shook her hand then headed off following signage toward the exhibit where this guard Theo was posted. She had some rather burning questions to ask him.

---

Her conversation with Theo held mixed success. His memory was fuzzy, which Xaeryn had expected after the time that had passed. He did remember some loiterers, but they were all far enough away from the lot he couldn’t discern features. One or two may have come across as “too casual” with hindsight, but he hadn’t clocked them as suspicious and thus hadn’t paid much mind in the moment. No accounting for street hooligans and how they spent their time, right? One might have had green hair, but they were wearing hats, and “like I said, I wasn’t payin’ much heed, Miss Lady Detective,” so he couldn’t swear by it.

With that tenuous connection possibly made slightly less tenuous, and a much-increased desire to speak with the elusive Ms. Aescar, Xaeryn wandered the museum a bit--might as well; she was here and it would help her think--before heading back out to her car.

“Ladies first,” a dark haired gentleman said, holding the front door open for her and allowing her to precede him down the steps.

Xaeryn nodded and flashed a brief smile of courteous thanks for his chivalry, noting he headed for a gleaming, high-end motorcar, black with red accents, that made hers look dingy. Bet it’s a nightmare to keep that fancy, she thought, paying the man no further mind. She started her car and flicked on the headlights to counter the settling dim of evening as she pulled away.

With her thoughts split between the road and mulling over the case, it took a few turns for her to notice a pair of headlights that appeared to be following the same route she was. That wasn’t terribly unusual, but the fact they were deliberately keeping back was. Tricky as surreptitious glances in a motorcar could be, Xaeryn managed one the next time she had to stop for traffic. Just as her... friend passed under a streetlight.

Black car, with red accents.

Gooseflesh prickled up her arms, and she shifted her planned route home to one with sparse enough traffic covert pursuit would be impossible. Two turns into the new path, her tail must have picked up on her plan and lammed off down a side street. Xaeryn wondered if he thought he was being subtle, and kept a careful eye out the rest of the way back. Despite not seeing any further tails, she remained on guard until she turned the key in her office door, slipped in, and locked it behind her.

“Intriguing development,” she murmured to the empty room as she unpinned her hat. And an interesting end to a very full day. Xaeryn sat wearily at her desk and kicked off her shoes. Even choosing comfort over style, her feet were sore from all the walking. Merchants’ Guild, Ashtown, the Hall... and barely a chance to sit all day. She returned her notepad to the desk drawer and locked it again, but left the stiletto blade in her handbag. She’d likely need it tomorrow anyway. Particularly if it was anywhere near as busy as today.

Busy enough to have missed any telephone calls that came while I was gadding about. Normally while already on a case, that would bother her less, but Red had said he’d call if he learned anything new. She’d hate to be missing information that could help the case, she mused, flicking a glance from the telephone to the clock on her wall. Hopefully this wasn’t too late for her to call him. She dug her notepad back out and flipped through the pages until she reached the section in Red’s sprawling shorthand. There, on the back of a previous page, tucked in the corner like a random doodle, was his office telephone number. Xaeryn smiled at the close resemblance of his eights and zeroes, but knew her own ones and sevens weren’t much better.

After only a brief moment of further hesitation, she pulled the telephone closer and started dialing. It wasn’t that late.

It was answered on the third ring, a slightly breathless, “Hello?”

“Liefred?”

“Xaeryn.” There was a note of surprise in his voice.

“Got it in one, smart man.” But I knew that.

He laughed. “Not that hard; you’re just about the only one who insists on calling me that, even if you don’t need to.” There was a small creak that conjured mental images of him leaning against the desk or slouched in his chair. “Everything alright? Did you need something?”

“Other way ‘round, actually.” Xaeryn fiddled with her notepad. “I’ve had a busy day and it occurred I wasn’t here much if you’d called, so I thought I’d check.”

“There are these people called secretaries, Xaeryn,” Red teased. “You might look into hiring one of them.”

“I know, I know.” She snorted softly. “Especially since most people don’t have your genial reaction to me missing their calls...”

“Most people haven’t known you since you were a gangly fourteen year old trying to cram yourself in the library loft to read in peace, either,” he said warmly. “I know how focused you get. And nothing new, I’m afraid. I got stuck lecturing first-years all day.”

“And you survived,” Xaeryn laughed, curling her toes in and out when they started to cramp.

“Barely,” Red said with a rueful laugh(she’d bet he was running a hand through his hair). “And that despite their best efforts.”

“See, this is why I didn’t want to stick around,” she said, only half-joking.

“Smart woman,” he deadpanned. “But I knew that already.”

Flatterer. It sounded coy and thus stayed in her head, replaced with an equally joking, “I won’t guest lecture, before you ask.”

“Damn,” he said lightly, “At any rate, I’m sorry I don’t have more yet-”

“Don’t apologize,” she cut him off. “I wasn’t expecting anything. Only checking. Just in case. Your responsibilities come first and they kept you busy today. I had plenty of other leads to chase today.”

“Where did they take you?” Red asked. “You mentioned being busy...”

“Merchants’ Guild to start. Then Ashtown-”

“Xaeryn.” His voice was already bristling worry.

“--to talk to Thieves’ guild.”

“Alone?! Ryn-” Red huffed a sigh of exasperated, retroactive concern and she bit back a laugh at how well she’d pegged his reaction. “Do you... take risks like that often?”

“Only when I need to,” she said carefully. Wouldn’t be mentioning the tail on her way home, then. “I know how to handle myself, Liefred. I was polite, we talked, I left. It was fine.”

A long moment of silence. “If you say so.” He didn’t sound completely convinced. (She decided not to tell him her office-apartment sat right by the boundary between Astown and Smoketown) “What else?”

“Just the Hall of History and Culture to speak with the curator.” She shifted in her chair. “That one took a while, but I got some good information to follow up tomorrow.”

“Best of luck with that, and... be careful?”

Xaeryn smiled fondly, unsure whether or not to hope it carried into her voice. “As I can be.” A beat, then she added lightly, “I’d hate to wind up a cautionary tale in one of your lectures, Headmaster.”

“Xaeryn.” She could practically see him trying to glower at her(and failing; Red couldn’t be that mean) through the telephone. “I’m serious.”

“I know.” And I appreciate it. She sobered her tone to match his. “But my line of work comes with risks sometimes.The best I can do is promise not to exacerbate them.”

“I’ll take it,” Red said softly, then was quiet a long moment. “I should let you go; it sounds like you have another busy day tomorrow?”

“I do.” She’d still stay up til midnight talking to him in a heartbeat, but, “and you probably need to recover from this one.”

“Mm. I get to do it again tomorrow, too,” he said glibly.

Xaeryn laughed. “I’ll keep you in my thoughts,” she said with mock solemnity “Good luck to you, as well, in that case.”

“Thank you, I’ll need it,” Red chuckled softly. “Goodnight, Xaeryn.”

“Goodnight, Liefred.”

She stared at the telephone a long moment after hanging up, smile curling her lips, before pushing out of the chair. After a day like this, she needed dinner, a hot bath, and a good night’s sleep. In that order.

She still double checked the door was locked before turning in.

----

(what you don’t see, bc I stuck with Ryn POV, is Pan was in Red’s office with him when she called. :3 Cue Pan promptly batting his eyelashes, making exaggerated lovestruck faces, and generally being a little shit bc He Knows, while Red’s gesturing for Pan to GET OUT of his office. and trying to get him to listen without actually talking so Ryn doesn’t know someone’s there(he doesn’t know why he doesn’t want her knowing that, he just doesn’t). Pan finally relents but hangs in the hallway til they’re done and comes back in with the biggest shit-eating grin “You’re still stuck on her, aren’t you?” Red, groaning and burying his face in his hands: “Pan, close your head, PLEASE. yes”)

#queens fic #shoh #xaeryn shrike #red antiqua #chase trinaeste #shery acquell #tlbt #ryn/red

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