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#always behind closed doors of course but like. sitting down and having coffee with aster while they talk and work on a puzzle in the middle
toomuchdickfort · 4 years
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thinking about aster and corvina like. interacting.
#corv goes to lean on them like she always has and aster steps away and is like 'don't touch me' and like. that voice? where their voice#isn't quite shaking but you can still tell. and just. the image of corv like. chilling the hell out.#and aster wouldn't talk with her about much and it would be kind of awkward bc they've gotta find a different way to interact with each othe#and corv just. being kinda gentle with her. and aster is kinda uncomfortable because that's not like. usual? even if it is nice to just talk#w corv instead of doing their usual dance of annoying the shit out of each other and like. idk them just getting together every so often for#lunch or smth#when aster meets rij corv is like 'yeah she's one of' and aster goes 'they' and corv goes 'sorry. they're one of my oldest friends' and yes#this is what i was on about earlier in that other post#and like. corvina just being nice to her friends sometimes#always behind closed doors of course but like. sitting down and having coffee with aster while they talk and work on a puzzle in the middle#of the floor and it's quiet aside from them and corvina offers to trim aster's hair since they were complaining about it being uneven and#idk i can see them having a sleepover at aster's place and making friendship bracelets#corvina wears hers on her ankle and just doesn't take it off. it's pretty neutral colors so it doesn't clash with anything and aster keeps#theirs in a pocket bc like. keeping something on your ankle or wrist is just too much sometimes but they like having something from people#they care about#character rambles#elysur#aster danica#corvina silva
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p4perthoughts · 3 years
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Young Justice Universe
Dick Grayson x Barbara Gordon
I have a theory that Dick and Barbara totally got together in the middle of season 2 (as opposed to the time jump between S2 and S3) and nobody can convince me otherwise
Events take place after Young Justice S2 E9: Darkest
_
Dick was definitely not feeling the aster.
He was exhausted, much like anyone would be after nearly being blown up. As he walked along he kept replaying the sound of the explosion over and over again in his head. He clutched the flash drive Kaldur had passed to him right before they lost Mount Justice. He could have put it in his bag along with his Nightwing suit for safe keeping, but he couldn’t let go of it. He needed to feel it in his hand to keep telling himself it was worth it. Losing the cave. Almost losing his life. Continuing to lie to everyone else was worth it. It had to be.
As he rounded the corner, he paused and found himself holding his breath. She was there. Of course she was there. Barbara Gordon was sitting on the steps of his apartment building. She hadn’t looked up and seen him yet so his instincts told him to turn around and run. He’d grown distant from his best friend since this whole thing started. Dick was able to lie to the entire team, even the League, all this time because the fate of the world depended on the success of this plan. But he knew that if he looked Babs in the eyes, he wouldn’t be able to do it.
He chose to keep walking forward. Before he could say anything Barbara got up and hugged him. Her touch was a warmth he hadn’t felt in a while. He definitely missed her.
“Are you okay?” She said as she stepped back.
For a second Dick had forgotten what had just happened and that Mount Justice was gone. Reality set back in like a cold punch in the face.
“Yeah yeah. Everyone’s pretty shaken up, but we all made it out...except for those that were taken.” He said while avoiding meeting her eyes.
“Tim said that explosive took out the entire place.” She said in a way that sounded like a question.
So he nodded. But then when he looked back at her, her concerned expression turned into sadness for a brief moment. Dick forgot that Mount Justice had become a second home to Babs too when she joined the team.
They stood there for a minute before Barbara broke the silence.
“What’s actually wrong?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Dick said as he headed into the building.
Babs grabbed her gym bag from the steps and followed behind him, “yes you do.”
“I’m your best friend, Dick. I know when somethings wrong.” She said as he pressed the elevator button.
Dick stepped into the elevator and she invited herself in behind him. He chose to not address it so he tried to change the subject.
“What’s in the bag?” He said.
“What’s in your bag?”
“I asked you first.” He retorted without skipping a beat. He missed their banter.
She sighed sarcastically and unzipped her gym bag a little as it still hung on her shoulder. Right, dumb question. He saw the bat symbol on her suit’s chest plate and her cowl. It was past midnight so figures she was out patrolling. That’s two points in her column now cause this is further proof to her he was off his game. He could feel her eyes look up at him, so he knew he was right.
As he pulled out his keys and began opening his door he remembered the flash drive in his left hand. The events of the evening all rolled back to hit him like a tsunami. The harsh words from Wally echoed in his ears. It was worth it he told himself.
When they got inside Barbara made herself at home -as usual when she comes over. She laid down her stuff and headed to the kitchen. Dick put the flash drive on his dresser before heading for the couch. He fell into the cushions with the weight of the universe on him and put his head in his hands.
He felt Babs come back. She sat next to him and comfortably put her legs in his lap. She had opened a bag of chips and offered him some. They sat there together for a while in silence. Just two friends, eating chips, comfortably in each other’s company. Maybe it’s because Barbara knew him longer than almost anyone. She knew everything about him. She knew who he was, both as Dick Grayson and Nightwing -Robin before that. She was everything to him from his first kiss to his best partner out in the field.
Finally Barbara put the bag on the coffee table in front of them and she scooted closer to him. He put his arm on her knees.
“Talk to me, Grayson.” She said.
Dick finally brought himself to look at her. He looked at her and saw her deep, green eyes starring right at him. They weren’t filled with resentment like Wally’s or anguish like Conner’s. They were warm and comforting. He feared that if he told her what he wanted to tell her, that they wouldn’t look at him that way anymore.
He let out a sigh and closed his eyes. She reached for him. As he felt her soft touch on his face, he broke. He told her everything about the mission and the lies.
When he got to the part about Artemis working undercover with Kaldur, he noticed her expression get distant.
“So she’s -she’s alive?”
He nodded. And waited. Waited for her to yell at him. To tell him what he was doing was wrong. That it wasn’t worth it. Or worse, for her to say nothing.
Instead she looked at him and asked, “who knows?”
He told her about their tiny circle that was in on the plan. He told her how he felt lying to everyone on the team, about the flash drive, about how he felt responsible for the other’s kidnapping, about how he almost got his team -his family- killed. He felt like he had been underwater and how he could now finally breathe. He had kept everything bottled up for so long that now it exploded and he didn’t even notice there had been tears until he found himself wiping at a wet sensation on his cheek.
When he looked at Babs she didn’t say anything. She simply pulled him to her and embraced him. His head lay under her chin as he allowed himself to wrap his arms around her waist. Dick steadied himself as he listened to the rhythm of her heartbeat. They sat this way for a while.
Dick pulled away finally when he felt he’d gained control of his breathing and his thoughts. He looked at his best friend and said, “you’re not mad?”
She looked at him and took a long breath.
“No,” she said finally, “for as long as I’ve known you Dick, you never do anything to hurt anyone. Even if that means hurting yourself. I don’t like that you lied, but I understand why you did. I’m sorry you felt that this was something you had to take on by yourself. I’m sorry you felt like you had to be Batman...”
She trailed off at the end. Babs knew more than anyone that Dick no longer wanted to become Batman. She knew from working with him first-hand that Batman was somebody only Bruce Wayne could be. Anybody else would be crazy to try to act like Batman...except Dick did.
“I’m not telling you that you have to let me in on the rest of your mission,” Barbara said, “I just want you to know you’ll always have someone to talk to when things get overwhelming. You’re not Bruce, Dick. Never forget that you’re never alone.”
That was it. Leave it to Barbara to always have the perfect thing to say. He felt like a huge weight had been lifted off him and could feel a relief he hadn’t felt in ages. He looked at her and simply said, “thank you.”
She smiled.
“Soooo,” she said after a moment. “Wanna watch a movie or something?”
He raised an eyebrow.
Babs sighed, “I told my dad I was gonna sleep over at Mary’s to finish a project because the original plan was to spend the night on patrol since Bruce is presently out of town but then I heard what happened through the comms and I found myself coming here...”
She was starting to ramble a little. Dick noticed she only did that when she got nervous...and he’s rarely seen Babs get nervous. He hadn’t realized how close they were sitting to each other either.
“Yeah, we can watch a movie.” Dick agreed after he found himself starring at her lips for a little too long.
He tasked himself with finding something to watch while she got the bag of chips and went back to the kitchen to find something else for them to snack on.
Dick couldn’t help but watch her. He loved the way she walked around his apartment like she lived here too. So maybe it had been too long since the last time he’d seen her. Really seen her. Like outside of their costumed extra curricular activities. He missed her. Babs was always beautiful. And it wasn’t weird he thought of her in this way. They’ve always had a special type of relationship. But besides the usual playful flirting between them and a couple kisses -amazing kisses- they were just best friends. Secretly he’d been wishing they were more than that since he was 13 but he knew he wasn’t ready for her then.
Thinking back to their conversation, he realized how much they’ve each grown as people. And more importantly how it felt like they hadn’t grown out of each other as most childhood friends do. No, if anything they’ve grown more into each other. No matter how much time they spent apart, they could always come back together and fit perfectly like two pieces of a puzzle. The sound of a pop from the microwave brought him back outside his thoughts. Then he stood up, like on autopilot and as if his brain had just said “fuck it. Stop being a coward” he walked across to where Babs was waiting on the popcorn. As she turned to address him, Dick took her face in one hand and her waist in the other and kissed her. It was a long and deep kiss. He pulled away a little after to see her expression.
He was close enough that when she opened her eyes again he could see her pupils were dilated as she looked up at him. They were both breathing slightly heavy from the kiss. He could tell he caught her off guard but he didn’t know how to string words together to say how much he just wanted her and was tired of dancing around it. So he hoped his eyes were enough to convey that message. The silence was broken by the microwave beeping. Dick took the bowl out and put it on the side of the stove to let it cool a bit.
“Dick?” Barbara said making him turn around.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. He started kissing her back and as their lips moved together Dick felt a warm feeling in his stomach. Is that what people mean when they say butterflies? He’d been with other women but never felt that. He pushed her up onto the kitchen counter and his hands traveled to her waist. Her hands moved from the back of his neck to his hair as she pulled him closer. Her lips were so soft that he never wanted to depart from them and her touch was so soothing that he felt every worry lift off his body making him feel weightless.
The way their bodies moved together was in perfect synch. Like two pieces of a puzzle, he thought to himself. He noticed her hands had gone down to the bottom of his shirt, gently tugging at it. So he pulled apart for a moment and took it off. Her hands felt so amazing as they touched his chest. As their lips met again this time his wandered down towards her neck. He hasn’t realized she was wearing a black tank top that fit her so well until the moment when he began pulling it off her. Their eyes locked as she smiled at him. He couldn’t help but smile back because her happiness was always contagious to him.
Dick realized that if they were going to continue, they shouldn’t keep doing so on his kitchen counter. Without skipping a beat he effortlessly picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist and he carried her over to his bed.
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Sugar with a Side of Coffee- Ch. 13: Purple Hyacinths and White Orchids
Chapter 13: Purple Hyacinths and White Orchids A/N: I’m sorry in advance Masterlist
Cate awoke the next day with a headache from drinking so much wine. Her alarm was chiming through her phone and it felt like the sound bounced between her ears. Pressing her palm into her forehead to create a pressure that wasn’t her headache, she let out a large sigh as she sat up in bed. It was her mistake to keep drinking with Spencer’s friends when she knew she had to work the next day. Even though she was paying for it today, she had a really fun night at Rossi’s. 
Spencer had driven Cate back to her house last night. Instead of the usual comfortable silence, Cate was blabbering the whole ride in Spencer’s car. Not only was she the chattiest Spencer had ever seen, she was also the touchiest. Not always touching him, but fiddling with the radio, opening all the compartments to see what was inside. A wine-drunk Cate was brazen and not nearly as quiet as she normally was. 
“Want to know my favorite flower?” Cate said out loud to Spencer, while rummaging through the pockets of his suit jacket that she was still wearing. Spencer glanced over to her.
“Of course.” He smiled at her. Every few seconds, a street light would shine an orange glow in the car, and Spencer swore this was the most beautiful he had ever seen her. 
“It’s Asters. I like all colors but pink would be my favorite I think.” Cate started to take off her shoes in his car. She was struggling with the small buckle on the heel. “Now it’s my turn to ask you a question.” She sat back up, defeated by the small metal buckle. There was a silence as she thought of what to ask him. “What’s your middle name?” She decided. He had just pulled into her parking lot. 
“Walter.” He quickly said, before getting out and walking around to open her door.
“Spencer Walter Reid.” Cate tried his full name out. She took Spencer’s outstretched hand and stepped out of his vehicle. She eyed him up, repeating his full name again. “Yeah, that seems about right.” She interlaced their fingers.
Spencer thought that the elevator would be their best option to get Cate safely to her floor. She dug in her clutch for her keys and passed them to Spencer to put into the lock. The two walked into Cate’s apartment just as Shrimp was walking past the hallway with one of the little toys Spencer had gotten him. Cate sat on the bench in her foyer and extended a leg to Spencer. 
“Please help.” Cate stuck her bottom lip out. Spencer grabbed her ankle and his nimble fingers just barely struggled with the buckle. He laughed and motioned for her other foot so he could take the other heel off. When Cate stood up, Spencer admired the height difference between them. He could tell Cate was getting tired by the way her bubbling conversation faded. She slid his jacket off, holding it out to him. In the soft light of the hallway, Spencer could see her freckles that peppered the top of her shoulders.
That night was the first time that Spencer had seen her room. It suited her. He pulled back her black and white comforter. Cate laid down, still in her dress, getting settled in. Spencer kissed her forehead and gently took the bobby pins from her hair. He rested another yellow throw blanket over her body. On his way out, he gave Shrimp a scritch and quietly shut the door behind him. 
“I feel like we haven’t worked together in forever!” Marta said loudly. Cate walked into The Empty Mug with her sunglasses on. She scrunched her face.
“Why must you be so loud?” Cate closed her eyes, pausing in her step. Marta chuckled. 
“Hungover on a weekday? You’re becoming quite the rebel, Catherine.” Marta was putting the last of the chairs down. “It’s getting colder, my parents were thinking of retiring the cart for the season.” Marta informed Cate. 
“Aw, I’m gonna miss my cart!” Cate was walking to the back room to put away her things and put on her apron. Like clockwork, soon after Marta flipped the sign on the door from closed to open, Spencer walked in. 
“Hey, Sweater Vest, when are we gonna get a visit from Morgan for a change?” Marta joked with him, starting a pot of coffee. Cate came out of the back, her face lighting up when she saw Spencer. 
“How are you feeling?” Spencer laughed. He had moved so he was standing in front of her. Cate brought a hand to her temple.
“Oh, you know, dealing with the aftermath of your friends. Remind me not to try and keep up with them again.” Cate laughed. Spencer shifted his weight from heel to toe.
“Would you like to go to the new Italian restaurant on Jefferson street later tonight? Like a proper date?” Spencer looked hopeful. Cate’s smile grew.
“I’d love to.” Cate nodded. She was mentally picking out an outfit already. The end of her shift could not come fast enough. As soon as Spencer mentioned Italian, Cate was thinking of an alfredo dish with bread sticks. Cate felt like she was back in high school, giddy like a schoolgirl for the first real date she’s had in awhile. She supposed she could count the museum date as a date, but she categorized it as friends, since that was all they were at the time. This time, though, their feelings were aired out and on the table and they were exclusive. That’s what made it a real date. 
Cate just about ran home, her scarf blowing behind her as she rushed to her apartment. She showered and washed her hair to fix her hat hair. She shaved her legs, even though she planned on wearing tights. After her shower, she walked to her room in a towel, laying out her outfit she had curated all day. A dark green sparkly dress that had long sleeves. It fell above her knee, so she had black tights to cover legs and a black pair of ankle boots with a small heel. She curled her hair for the first time, managing to only burn her fingers twice. She facetimed Marta to show her the outfit and swoon over this date. Seeing the time, she wondered why Spencer hadn’t been to pick her up yet. 
She remembered that they hadn’t decided on how they were meeting. Cate figured she’d shoot him a text and let him know she would meet him at the restaurant. Cate’s nose was red and a bit runny from the walk to the restaurant. The restaurant was all lit up with soft yellow lights and it was everything Cate imagined a real date would be. 
Cate gave the hostess both her and Spencer’s names. He had made a reservation under his name in advance, despite the full house and the hostess informed Cate she was the first of their party of two to show up. The hostess led the way to a table for two, in a more secluded part of the restaurant that was more dimly lit and the tables in this area all had candles on their white table cloths. 
It had been about fifteen minutes before Cate let some negative thoughts cross her mind. She tried calling Spencer, but his phone went straight to voicemail. Cate was on the second basket of breadsticks, pleading with the waiter for a few more minutes. After ten more minutes, Cate had decided to order her meal, not wanting the reservation to go to waste. 
She could barely eat. Half of it was boxed up for Cate to eat for lunch the next day. The waiter had come back, telling her there was already a card on file to pay for the meal. Out of pure pettiness, Cate did something she never usually did. She ordered dessert for herself. A chocolate lava cake was brought to the table. The servers were now sneaking peeks at Cate sitting by herself. She pretended not to notice and picked at her chocolate cake that only tasted like spite. Cate finally gave them her own card to pay and left the restaurant with her leftover box. 
She hauled a cab to go home, since it was now dark and freezing out. While she was in the backseat, her phone rang. Spencer’s name flashed on the screen. She wanted to answer and give him hell, but she left it for voicemail. She chuckled bitterly to herself thinking of Derek already chewing him out- wherever they were. It’s not like he would tell her what state they were in or where they were headed. Her phone finally stopped ringing, and a new voice message notification showed. 
“I am so sorry. I know I promised you a date tonight. What I did was inexcusable. I’m on the jet and I’m an hour and a half out. Can we talk?” Spencer’s voice was rushed with embarrassment. Or was it guilt? After she texted Spencer to meet her at her place the taxi pulled up to her building’s entrance. Cate paid and got out of the car. 
She left her box on the counter. She wanted to stay in her outfit so Spencer could see what he missed, but she didn’t want to be too mean. A part of her felt bad for being mean. She knew he had a demanding job and she was lucky to have spent so much of Spencer’s free time with him so far. She knew he was out there, getting the bad guys and making the world a safer place. With a sigh, she changed into sweats and a t-shirt and plopped on the couch with some reality show to fill the silence. 
A knock on her door made Cate jump from a sleep. She hadn’t even realized she had closed her eyes. She could hear Spencer frantically knock again. His voice coming from the other side of the door. 
“Cate? If you can hear me, please let me in.” Cate looked through the peephole. He was still in his FBI windbreaker. Still feeling mad at him, she opened the door just enough so he could see one eye. “Oh, thank god. I really am an asshole. I’m so sorry.” He started to say.
“Just tell me you got the guy.” Cate’s face was still hard with anger. She sighed. “Tell me you solved the case and it was good for you guys.” Cate blinked.
“Yeah. Yeah we did. It was tough, but we did it. That’s why I was late.” Spencer’s shoulders slugged.
“You weren’t late. Late implies that you would’ve showed up at all. You didn’t. I sat there by myself for an hour.” Cate spat. She took a deep breath in, fingers tapping the door while she made a decision. Opening the door wider, she let Spencer in. He followed her to her kitchen, where she took out a plate to reheat the leftover meal she had. “You must be hungry.” Cate said. Knowing that there was one less killer loose made Cate feel less angry at Spencer. She took out two forks and the two picked at the alfredo pasta together in silence. As they ate, Cate moved closer to Spencer, slowly pressing into his side. She was glad he was safe and home. 
Spencer stayed the night, the two snuggled up in Cate’s bed. Cate’s head rested on Spencer’s chest, his arms wrapped around her. In the morning, he had to get up before her and he gave her a quick kiss before leaving to go back to the bureau for another day. 
On another occasion a few weeks later, Spencer had promised Cate to another date at a different restaurant. Like before, Cate had gotten dressed and ready- waiting for Spencer to pick her up as promised. She facetimed Marta as she waited for Spencer to arrive. They discussed some new baked goods to try at the shop for the winter. She hung up the call when her doorbell rang. 
She excitedly opened it, but it wasn’t Spencer on the other side. It was Penelope. She looked guilty, and when she saw Cate, she looked at her with pity. 
“I am so sorry to be the bearer of bad news.” Penelope said. In her hands, were a bouquet of Cate’s favorite flowers: pink Asters. Cate sighed. “I can’t stay for long, I have to get back to my batcave, but I also brought you this.” Penelope handed a pint of chocolate ice cream to Cate. Cate smiled sadly at Penelope and thanked her for stopping by. 
Spencer’s poor attempt at trying to mend his mistakes was to invite Cate over for more sleepovers and movie nights. He had even given Cate a key to his place. In the cases where he knew he was staying overnight, Cate would let herself in and water his plants for him. Sometimes she would wrap herself in his housecoat. She loved Spending time with Spencer and she was grateful to have met a wonderful male specimen, but she was growing tired of the kisses in passing and waking up alone in a bed where they had slept together. Cate bitterly thought of how she used to be happily single and how she became a wreck of a woman in love.
It happened one day when she came home from The Empty Mug. Spencer had beaten her to her apartment door. She smiled, excited to see him at a reasonable hour for the first time in a while. In his hands, he held a bouquet made of purple and white flowers.
“What’s the occasion?” Cate questioned with a small laugh. “Not that I’m not happy to see you.” She smiled at him, opening the door for the two of them. Spencer brought the flowers to the island. Cate could tell he was nervous. “What’s up?” now she was growing anxious. 
“I know these aren’t your favorite flowers. They’re purple hyacinths and white orchids. They both mean sorry. Well, the orchids mean I’m sorry and the hyacinths are more of a please forgive me.” Spencer spoke with his hands, playing with his fingers.
“Forgive you for what, Spencer?” Cate placed her hands on the countertop of the island. “What are you talking about?” Cate shook her head.
“You deserve more than this. I feel awful when I have to leave for a case. You don’t deserve being stood up or waking up alone. And as bad as I want to be what you deserve and what you need, I can’t quit doing what I love. I wish I could but I can’t.” He stammered out. Cate grew angry at him, the floodgates had opened and everything she felt was coming out.
“You don’t get to tell me what I need! You don’t get to decide how I feel!” Cate started. She had come to terms with how their relationship was and how important Spencer’s job was. He was keeping people safe and Cate knew what she signed up for.
“Stop being so understanding, you’re making this harder than it has to be.” Spencer closed his eyes, pressing his thumb and index finger into them.
“Fine. I won’t say that it kills me not knowing where you go. Or if you're safe. I won’t say that it’s been easy, but I've been here, spencer. and I was planning on being here!” Cate yelled. Her throat burned. She didn’t want it to end like this. Tears stung her eyes. She couldn’t figure out why Spencer wanted to end this so bad. 
After a silent standoff between Cate and Spencer, he curtly nodded and turned out the door. Cate let herself sit on her kitchen floor and Shrimp finally came out now that the screaming match had subsided. 
Spencer was off his game at work. The team had spoken amongst each other and had come to the conclusion that Spencer and Cate were no more. That was a lie, Derek had visited the shop to get the details from Marta. Even though things were tense between Spencer and Cate, Derek wasn’t the only one visiting the shop.
“How long are you gonna let him just sit out there?” Marta asked, peering out the window to Spencer, sitting on the bench across the street from the coffee shop. He had been spending all his free time on this bench that faced the coffee shop. He hated how cold he got on the bench. Winter was in full swing now. He hated even more how things ended between himself and Cate. He tried reaching out to her, but Cate wouldn’t answer her phone or her door when he knocked. He knew he royally messed up.
“Until he freezes” Cate replied, not looking up from prepping a coffee order. She tried her best to ignore him. Talking to him or even seeing him would break her. She knew she would let him back in and she would just suffer again.
“Just because it’s cold outside doesn’t mean you have to be cold hearted” Marta told Cate. Marta felt bad for the two of them. And not just because all the scheming her and Derek had gone through to get them together had failed, but because they were good for each other. Marta made Spencer his usual coffee order and walked across the street to the bench. 
“She hates me doesn’t she?” Spencer asks. Marta sighed.
“I mean, I wouldn’t say hate but maybe strongly dislike” Marta said, trying to lighten the mood.
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immortalbarnes · 4 years
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A Cabin For Two | Chapter 1: Here Comes the Sun
Bucky Barnes x Reader
summary: you and Bucky live another day in paradise and visit an old friend
warnings: just a little angst... and some internalized anger towards Steve Rogers
A/N: mainly a setup chapter, also this is my way of letting out pent out emotions towards the writers of endgame’s decision of sending Steve back in time
prologue
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A normal day in the cabin consisted of semi-early mornings with something sizzling on the stove and the strong fragrance of coffee wafting through the dewy morning air. To the normal person, life in the middle-of-nowhere-New-York seems isolating and boring, but for two ex-hydra elite super soldiers, there is nothing better.
As Bucky brews a fresh batch of dark roasted perfection, you flip the finale of the stack of pancakes he suggested to make in bed some time earlier, and there is comfortable silence between the two of you, as you hear the coffee maker sing and feel your pristine white cat, Alpine, rub against your ankles.
Bucky comes up behind you and wraps his built arms around your waist, humming a Sinatra song you both originally missed out on in the 50’s. You smile, tossing the final silver dollar pancakes onto the tray to your right. He slips back away from you in time to turn off the stove and turn to see him now reaching out for you to dance with him as he begins to sing the words of a totally different song, probably from an entirely different era. (70 years of music is hard to catch up on)
“Here comes the sun…” He quietly sings to you as you step into his embrace, “And I say… It’s all right.” He serenades you, off key as his voice is still sleepy and gravelly, as you slow dance in the kitchen, Alpine circling you two.
“That’s not what you were humming earlier.” You contentedly point out.
“Forgot the words to that one,” He replies and continues singing The Beatles song.
“Doo-dun-doo-doo”
After he slowly closes out the tune, you gather your pancakes, syrup, coffee (of course), and some assorted fruits, and go out to the front porch. Out there, a small picnic table on your porch basks in the rising morning sun. You splay out your food and utensils, sit, and merrily eat, listening to birds chirp and watching bunnies scurry back to their homes.  Bucky’s eyes are shining as he watches the sun slowly rise. Neither of you know what time it is, your best guess is 7 or 8, but it doesn’t matter. There’s no missions to be sent out on, no reports to file, and  no one ordering you where to be. It’s you, Bucky, and mother nature, and you couldn’t ask for anything more.
“Y/N?” Bucky asks after a while, snapping you out of your content haze. His voice is quiet and soft, as if he intended to not startle you.
“Yes?”
“What should we do today?” You knew he was going to ask this question, for he asks it everyday. Somedays you go fishing or hunting, others you curl up by the fireplace and read to each other, and others you go on hikes, but no matter what the answer turns out to be, it’s the perfect answer.
“I don’t know, my love, is there anything you want to do today?”
“Can we visit Steve today? It’s been a while since…” He begins to attempt to justify, but you don’t need to hear it. Nothing broke your heart more than when Bucky found out Steve went back to the 40’s. You loved Steve, for he was everything to Bucky, and you do your best to be everything for him.
“Of course. Do you want to pick wildflowers to bring him? I want some for a centerpiece in our dining room too.” You offer, knowing that bringing Steve small gifts, like pies or paintings, helps Bucky know he’s doing everything he can for his best pal. Part of it hurts to see it, for it angers you that he would leave you two, that he would leave Bucky helpless and alone in a new world far from the one you knew.
It’s a short walk to a hill behind your cabin that’s draped in flowers. Having a lot of time on your hands, you began studying the natural floral of the state. Your personal favorite was the Trientalis borealis, or starflower, for it reminds you of the star on Bucky’s old arm, the one you used as a symbol for hope in your days with hydra. Waking up from cryo, you always searched for that deep red star, so you could know your soldier was there with you. Bucky loves Claytonia caroliniana, the spring beauties, only because he loved putting them in your hair. He claimed that the pale pink complimented your y/h/c strands perfectly.
Bucky picked some trout lilies, their petals a vibrant yellow, and you added some white wood aster to go with them. After adding some other plants you’re yet to learn about, you march back to your cabin and tie off the bouquet with some twine before getting into Bucky’s silver Jeep and heading to the city.
Steve’s eyes light up when he sees you and Bucky walk through the door, just like how Bucky’s light looking at the morning sun. Supposedly, there’s not much for America’s Golden Boy at Sunny Acres Nursing Home, so maybe Bucky is his sun.
“Bucky! Y/N!” Steve weakly greets the two of you as you walk in. Bucky is like a child, smiling at his wrinkled best friend, holding the small bouquet behind his back. He happily skips to the right side of the bed Steve is currently in, grinning ear to ear.
“We brought you these,” Bucky says as he presents Steve with the twine bound wildflowers you had picked this morning, “I hope you like them, we picked trout lilies this time to brighten up your room.”
“Geez, punk, don’t go soft on me now,” Steve jokes, “I love them.” With those simple words, Bucky beams. He can’t bear to think about how he was no longer there for Steve during his years on ice, so he tries everything to make it up to him during his final years.
“Jerk.” Bucky mumbles.
“Hey, Buck, y’all catch up. I’ll put the flowers in a vase.” You pitch in, taking the flowers to the small kitchenette on the other side of the room. Replacing the last bouquet you brought him now dried out and wilting, you find a nurse there preparing a meal. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t see you there!” You politely greet her, “My names Y/N.”
“Oh, I know, if it wasn’t for the news stories, it would be from Steve constantly talking about you and Mr. Barnes,” she says, “My name is Helen. I’m Mr. Roger’s primary caregiver.”
“Thank you for all you do for our friend. You said he talks about us a lot?” You inquire.
“Oh, all the time. He’s told me so many stories of the Avengers, and of course of  him and Mr. Barnes from before World War II. His stories are incredible!” Her smile is genuine as he continues the soup for Steve, “You know, as much as some of the other heroes try to come and visit him, nothing compares to how happy he is after Bucky visits. It’s really incredible how close they are.”
“Yes… It is.” You can’t help but feel a ting in your stomach when she said that. A small part of you will never forgive Steve for leaving Bucky, but you gotta get over it at some point.
Suddenly, you hear Steve erupt in a wheezy laughter at something Bucky says. Interested, you lean against the frame of the kitchen’s entrance to get a better ear to what they’re saying.
“...and Sam couldn’t stop laughing! It was one of the craziest things Alpine has ever done. Maybe I should bring him here! He’s quite the cuddler.” Bucky finished a story about your beloved cat, and you smile at the two super soldiers talking as if nothing ever happened.
“‘Scuse me,” Helen squeezes past you through the door, soup in hand, “Here’s your lunch, Mr. Rogers.”
“Helen, dear, please call me Steve.” Steve chuckles, “So how is Sam? He was here a couple of weeks ago. Is he still working with the shield?”
“He is. Sometimes he comes over, so I can help him get used to it. I guess it’s not as easy for someone without the serum.” Sam resided in a cabin not too far from yours, and he came over a good amount. If there was anyone who came close to filling the whole Steve left in Bucky, it was The Falcon himself.
“That’s good. The three of you should come up together sometime… with Alpine too!” Steve says, his attention then shifts to you across the room, “How are you, Y/N? Keeping Bucky busy I hope.”
“Oh definitely!” You laugh, striding to his bed, “‘few days ago, we shot a buck early in the morning. My guess was a good 160 pounds. We cooked it and invited Sam over for ribs that night! Had enough leftovers for two days.”
“Didn’t know deer-pot-pie was a thing until she figured out how to make it!” Bucky added, pulling you in by the waist and kissing the top of your forehead. You can’t help but glance down at the portrait of Peggy on his bedside table; right next to a picture of him and Bucky from the war.
The three of you converse for hours, and before you know it, Helen is bringing Steve his dinner. She politely points out that visiting hours are almost over, but that you’re welcome back anytime. You bid farewell to Steve and return to your vehicle for the drive back home.
“Buck?” You timidly say in the car, “Do you ever wish you went back to the 40’s with him?”
He thinks for a while, until he finally speaks, “I don’t think there was anything for me… besides Steve of course. Now, I have you. As long as I have you, I’m happy in any century.”
You bathe once again the happy silence for the rest of the car ride. How did you get so lucky? You did terrible, unimaginable things during your time under Hydra control, so why did the universe let you have someone so magnificent as James Buchanan Barnes?
You’re greeted by Alpine as soon as you step over the threshold of your front door. By the time you got back, the sun had begun to set, so you began to start on dinner. Bucky marinated fish you had gotten at a local farmers market the other day, while you washed vegetables from the garden you had out back for a salad.
The two of you sat together at your mahogany dining table, centered with a bouquet of wildflowers similar to the one you gifted Steve. The two of you made small talk, nothing but plans for the next day and compliments to each other on dinner… Until Bucky suddenly says:
“Y/N?” He began, “You know I love you, right?”
“And I love you.”
“You’re everything I’ll ever need, doll, you’re the hope I had in Hydra, and you’re the life I had after it. Ever since I first laid eyes on you at that war camp, I knew you were the gal for me. You’re my world. Never forget that.”
A tear begins to slide down your face, but you didn’t notice it until Bucky wiped it from your cheek, “Thank you, Bucky, I love you so much.”
The sun leaves you and your lover, ending another perfect day in the middle-of-nowhere-New-York.
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teutonicfanfics · 4 years
Text
Should I post my unpublished work on here??? Eh, here is the first draft of ‘Androids and Detectives’!
All rights reserve to me, ‘Detroit: become human’ isn’t.. I think there is a ‘AndroidTale’? This is different - AH
(Phone upload)
———————————————————————
The police department of Ebott was bustling with life. Paperwork messily scattered on desks, cubicles stacked with written reports, and the distant smell of cheap instant coffee.
A tall male walked through the doors, sporting black waist coat with a white button up and a long coat barely reaching his calves.
His pale face was slender, a semi-permanent scowl on his mouth, two jagged scars lined his right eye, slitting his brow tail. Deep brown eyes narrowed at the wandering looks that dared to stare, feeling satisfied that they turned almost immediately after eye contact. Standing near the entrance with his arms crossed over his chest, he squinted slightly.
Examining the desks that lined the floor underneath the chief’s office. The blinds where shut — not that Edge cared, of course. He only (slightly) cared that he couldn’t find nor see his coworker and insolent brother.
He ignored the androids standing at attention near the wall, underneath a charging pod, and walked towards the kitchen area. His badge clipped on his belt as he passed security.
Pushing the door open, he scoffed at his brother. “Where is she?”
The smaller male shrugged his shoulders, slipping off his police uniform with the words ‘Aster’ on both the sleeves. “she didn’t come home last night.”
“Where did she go, then.” He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest — chocolate brown eyes wandering towards the android janitor in the corner, mopping up the floor with a far away look in his glassy eyes.
The Android didn’t spare him a glance as he continued to work - as he was programmed to do.
He scoffed. Edge didn’t really like Androids. They were just trinkets used by people who were too damn lazy to do things themselves. Edge is a man of expertise, he liked doing things on his own (with the help of his partner, of course.) and not rely on a hunk of garbage.
“dunno. maybe at a bar? she’s been visiting those lately.”
Edge narrowed his eyes at his brother. Glowering silently as Red nervously fiddled with his fingers. A deep sigh coming from the eldest brother as he ran a hand through his messy white hair.
“look, bro.” Red hissed. Edge rolled his eyes. “she aint wanta talk. maybe lay low, let her hav’ her peace and - i dunno, leave her the fuck alone?”
Edge’s shoulders trembled, fighting back from lashing out at his brother in the middle of the kitchen. Face flushing red in anger as he continued to glare at Red. He, in turn, rolled his eyes, taking a large bite out of a hotdog with waayy too much mustard splattered over.
“Need I fucking remind you: if chief finds her missing today, he’ll have her fucking head. So let’s go and look for the stupid wench.”
“No need.” A female said, walking into the room with a stack of folders in her arms. Carelessly placing them on the table and sat down, a long sigh coming from her.
Red grinned widely at his brother, showing the genetic fangs - Edge mockingly mimicked him and followed to sit next to the female.
“ya look like shit, doll.” Red said, eyeing her oversized sweater, large pants and the lack of one shoe - striped socks and the heavy bags underneath her eyes. (Colour) hair basically a rats nest.
Breathlessly laughing, she punched Red in the arm - although it was terrible to say the least, he still pretended to act as if it hurt. “You were always the charmer.”
“what can I say? ladies love it.” He winked, placing a cup of coffee in front of her.
Y/n rolled her eyes, staring into the coffee cup and tipped it into her mouth without hesitation. Red and Edge flinched slightly - knowing how hot the coffee was.
“L/N!” A voice shouted behind the closed door. The female in question rose her head, her eye bags seemingly heavier upon hearing the chief’s shout. Edge glanced over towards the door, a low grumble coming from him as he slowly inside his crossed arms.
“I’ll go speak with the chief.” He pointed at her. “Chew on some fucking ice or something, that was unhealthy!” And then turned to leave.
(Colour) eye’s trailing after the tall man, Y/n shook her head. Stood up with the chair screeching loudly and grabbed the pile of files. Red quickly got to his feet, easily towering over her as he took the files.
Looking at him gratefully, the two walked out of the kitchen and into the vast room filled with desks - another room sectioned off from the rest by glass; over looking the workers below. Inside the room was the Chief: Asgore, and her Partner: Edge.
Y/nducked her head, pulling Red along towards her desk before plopping down with a loud, exaggerated sigh. Red chuckled throatily, placing the files on his desk and swiped half.
“ya look like yer in need some help. sorry fer bein’ a shit roommate.” He said, sitting a cross from him where his desk was pushed against hers. His (and her’s) computer blocking his head as he hunched over, reading over the file.
Y/n shook her head, taking the top file and flipped it open. “You’re fine. It’s my fault for not asking when I need it.”
“L/N!” The Chief sounded pissed off. The glass door was wide open, arms arms crossed over his chest. A scowling Edge walking down the small flight of stairs, face burning with rage - luckily, he kept himself in check.
Red winced. “o’fuck. if boss ain’t able to soothe ol’fluffy beard, then that means yer in it fer good.”
A shiver crawled up her spine at Red’s words. A sinking feeling weighted in her stomach - yet she looked unbothered as Edge stomped towards his desk, the one on her left side, and revived his computer tower.
Flipping the file closed, she stood up and pushed her hair in. Shoving her hands into her hoody pockets and sauntered towards the opened door. Asgore keeping it wide open for her to walk through.
Good ol’daddy bara.
She thought, the corners of her mouth twitching in amusement. Although she knew Asgore would not appreciate a smile, she kept her face as straight as possible. Lips pursing into a line before she sighed. Watching the large man walk around her like a vulture, eyeing her choice of clothing with a scrutinizing nose wrinkle.
“Where have you been?” His voice was deep and raspy. Rumbling like thunder on a rainy night. His hands neatly folding behind him as he stopped circling her, walking to his desk instead.
“Paperwork at a bar, at home, in my car.” She said sarcastically, a soft sigh coming from her. “No offence, sir. But what is the reason for—”
“Have you heard of TaleLife?” He cut her off, leaning over to grab a file in his desk. A large red ‘classified’ stamped in the front of a brown folder. Eyebrows softly knitting together, she nodded.
Asgore hummed. “It seems they have created a new android. A highly advanced robot — it’s a prototype and will be sent here.” He said rather shortly. Eyeing the folder for a second before slowly sliding it to you.
Furrowing your eyebrows, you looked up at Asgore for a second before grabbing it. The paper feeling aged, more ‘life’ like than the simple ‘tabloid’ people use nowadays.
“It is called a ‘Sans’. An RK800.” He said as you opened and flipped through it.
Sans was human-like, pages showing the insides of the androids. A ‘heart’ that pumped blue blood into their systems, keeping them functional for primary tasks.
“Supposedly, this thing is designed to assist human detectives on cases. You, however, will be in charge of this android until its mission is complete - I am moving you from Homicide department to Deviant cases per TaleLife’s requests.”
You instantly bristled, slamming the folder down and stood up so fast that the chair tipped over. (Colour) eye’s heatedly flaring into honey brown ones that always held malice within.
“What the shit!? I don’t want to work with some stupid tin can!” You shouted, face colouring with rage at Asgore’s annoyingly calm features, as if he knew you were going to act out. The façade you had on melted away almost instantly, eyes snapping downward to the desktop and at the photos of this ‘Sans’ android.
“You weren’t my first choice, Lieutenant. It was either you or Mr. Harrison.” He said, gathering up the papers and slipping them back into the classified folder. Tightening the small sting before putting it back into his desk, locking the drawer.
“Always Mr. Harrison!” You say, slamming your hand on the table each word.
“I do not trust Harrison like I trust you,” Asgore snapped silently. Honey brown eyes scanning over to the desks in front of his office. Narrowing them into glares when a unfortunate person caught his gaze.
“I need a fucking drink.” You muttered, running your hand through your hair - ignoring the pointed look Asgore shot you.
“Expect the ‘Sans’ Android to be arriving within fortnight. That is all, Lieutenant.”
Sarcastically saluting the Chief, you turned on your heel and stormed out of the office, grumbling underneath your breath just as you plopped down to your chair. A low hiss coming from the person in front of you.
“Burn-”
“Burn in hell, Red.”
*Timeskip*
It was blandly obviously that you were displeased to your two partners in crime when you returned to the partners, carelessly throwing your back onto the couch and immediately raided the refrigerator for a bottle of water
Edge shook his head, snatching it from your grasp.
You pouted softly - although instantly perked up when he twisted the cap and handed it right back.
Your ‘job’ persona melting away when you sunk into the couch, not caring that you still had your jacket on and sighed deeply.
“Stupid paperwork.” You say into the silence.
When Edge or Red hadn’t said anything, you frowned and sat up, looking over to their direction. Identical honey brown eyes searching your own (colour) ones as if you were a difficult puzzle they couldn’t solve. The unspoken question lingered in the air, the brothers watching and waiting for you to elaborate on your recent foul attitude, only to come around in a full circle and act as if you didn’t slam a donut into some poor maintenance person’s mouth.
You rose your eyebrow challengingly.
Red huffed, taking off his jacket and fell next to you - Edge did the same but more mannered than his brother -
“so, why’d chief need ya?” Red asked the unspoken question.
Knowing that you had no way around this, you capped the bottle and placed it in between your thighs, leaning back with a soft grumble at the mere thought of your boss.
Interwining your fingers with Edge’s longer ones, you lightly pinched his nails. “I’ve been reassigned to the ‘deviancy’ cases.”
“What?” Edge hissed, not bothering to take his hand from yours - a sense of amusement blooming in his chest that he quickly shoved away.
“Yep.” You muttered, dropping his hand and leaned your head back, staring at the ceiling. “Fan-Fucking-tastic.”
“but that isn’t near yer profession. th’fuck are ya going to do with rogue robots?”
Tightly shutting your eyes, you waved with your free hand at your bag. “The file has the information and implications about the cases i’ll be taking along with an Android.”
“no fucking way.” Red’s eye’s were wide, looking at you for a second then to your bag. “and yer ok with it?”
You scoffed loudly, rolling your eyes as you slipped from Edge’s hand and stood up, tossing the bottle into the air and caught it. “I have no choice but to listen to the Chief.”
Red got up from the couch and ransacked your bag for the file - he grabbed it and tossed your back carelessly back on the couch and pulled the papers. Honey brown eyes scanning the contents - features turning darker and angrier the more he redid.
“I’ll ask for a transfer.” Edge suddenly said, intertwining his fingers together (trying to act as if you still held his hands). “The fucking crud should’ve known better than to assign you to these cases.”
Red shook his head, returning to his seat and slammed the papers on the coffee table. A low, throaty growl coming from him as he crossed his arms. “no can do, bro. it says that talelife had asked for baby girl specifically.”
“Are you fucking serious?” Edge hissed, leaning forward and displayed the five papers out on the table. Honey brown eyes checking the content at mark speed before scowling deeply. A low, almost like Red’s, growl coming from his chest.
You wondered how they did that —
“yep. Might as well kill myself, yeah?” You laughed humourlessly. Glaring at the bottled water and placed it onto the table. Ignoring the concerned looks Red and Edge shot you for a split second.
”c’mon, you guys know I’m not serious.” You frowned before sighing.
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delicrieux · 5 years
Photo
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pairing: kane x f!mc
fandom: playchoices, the elementalists
summary: after the confrontational and scandalous tea party, (name) finds herself in a wonderland-esque place when her life had just started becoming boring again.
warnings: uh... age gap i guess?? 
words: 3k (i snapped)
author’s note: jfc this took so long. hours of work. and a few different versions (one was set in a labyrinth but i decided to go with this instead). hope you like it! tagged all the people that wanted. you can view this as kane totally manipulating the mc ..he probably is tbh. anyway, this will suffice till TE is back in a few weeks. i regret nothing for stanning my eccentric mustache man.
tags: @tilliesmarshall - @somegdchoices - @lastfirstcupcake - @peach-space - @magicpijama
feedback is always appreciated xoxo
masterlist | buy me coffee☕
It had been a terrible week full to the brim with nothing but stress and worry. To make it all seemingly worse, none of her friends bore their gentleness with her, and their jubilant smiles, daydream gazes, bell like laughter was washed away by autumn rain. There must be something in the water, they all mutely concluded one cloudy morning during breakfast, with their lips sealed and eyes sunken into fresh cups of coffee. Yet it is as if they all shared a telepathic line, acutely aware of what their seatmate was thinking: Why is no one talking?
In silence they had all decided that this is simply one of those weeks where nothing goes right, and the only salvation is solitude. Even the ever social Shreya seemed to count her words, rejoicing once she had reached their limit. And Aster, ever the tender soul, wore less blooming flowers as days slipped into nights, appearing a bit haunted and even ill. (Name), too, was hardly any better. She is the Sun, the brightest star in the sky, but her light had reduced into nothing but a pale, sickly glow. There must be something in the air, they had mussed wide awake at midnight, listening to the wind howling outside their bedrooms. Nevertheless hope poked and prodded their heads with an impatient thought: Surely this will all blow over and chaos shall resume as it has, never to be disturbed again…right?
It is late again; the evening is inky, full of stars. (Name) sits beside her writing desk with her head in her hands, feeling herself slip into madness once the words in her textbook swim again. She swallows a fit of frustration that wanted to escape with a curse. This will not do. It would appear that being detached from Pend Pals would grant more time to focus on studies, though it has been the last thing on her mind and now she has an exam the next day and she knows absolutely nothing. There is a secret within her heart; a secret that no one knows and cannot know, because she realises just how silly it is. She feels as if the walls are closing in on her; that this room is too small, too crowded, though she is, and has been for most of the week, completely alone.
A knock on the door makes her jolt, and raspy she squeaks, “Come in!” though she fills with dread at the mere prospect of talking to anyone. The visitor waits for no other confirmation and the door opens to reveal her twin, displeased as she always is, glaring down at her.
“What’s wrong with you?”
She blinks, taken aback by the hostile question “My… I’m just…not feeling that well.” She explains clumsily, “Is there something you need? Because I really have to study.”
“Sure you do. Mind telling the truth now?”
“What?”
“Don’t ‘what’ me. I know you. Everyone’s been acting weird. You especially. You’re not as…” She gazes her up and down, searching for the right word, “-dramatic as you used to be.”
“It’s just stress.”
“If it was just stress then you’d be crying that you are literally dying.” Atlas crosses her arms over her chest, her displeasure momentarily melting into concern before she fixes her stern façade again,” So…talk to me. Or whatever. I can’t let you be out of it when Kane’s on the loose. Even if you pulled the stupidest move imaginable and tried to stop Alma from killing him.”
Irritation seizes her breath and she grits her teeth, “Yeah so I got a little heated, sorry for wanting to settle things peacefully. He’s literally the only one that gave me any sort of answers. And –just-ugh! What is with you and constantly being on your guard? Fighting? Can’t I just be a normal student and worry about normal things? Like exams?”
“Normal was thrown out the window when our mother—“
“You know, for someone who hates her so much, you sure don’t shut up about her.”
Atlas pales, speechless. Before she can fire back, (Name) adds, “Just leave me alone. Try to focus on your studies. Because the only danger we’ll be facing soon is Harrington’s stupidly difficult questions.” She turns back to the book, “Goodnight, Atlas.”
Of course Atlas would notice the change – she had always considered herself an outsider, even now, but being rejected by her sister is too much, and the hurt in her eyes betrays it. (Name) can’t see it, the glister of angry tears, but she can feel it; can feel Atlas’ magick pulse about her, unruly. The door shuts and silence falls over her bedroom, as if Atlas was never here in the first place. (Name) sighs. Perhaps she should not have said that. She does not know what came over her. This is all simply too much.
The witching hour has long passed and (Name) haunts the hallways of Penderghast. Strange illusions play on the walls; the air is cool, fresh, much better than the stuffy, perfumed atmosphere of the dorms. Here she feels a bit better. She wonders if there are any professors roaming about this late, and if there are, will she be in trouble if they catch her. There is a sharp ring in her ear that distracts her, one she had tried again and again to get rid of by shutting her eyes, hitting her head, though all it did is worsen the ache and vertigo nearly took her.
A playful gust of wind brushes the back of her neck and she shivers, eyes lighting up from the all too familiar magick. Kane. Her hearts leaps in her chest, though is it from fright or excitement or both she has no clue. At the very end of the hallway she notes an open door, the only open door, from which moonlight spills onto the floor. She moves as if enchanted, enraptured by curiosity, suddenly eager to speak, to run, to rejoice, when just this morning she had barely gotten out of bed.
She enters the Hall of Mirrors and her reflection meets her in a thousand ornate forms. His magick lingers here as if a personal invitation. She finds its source easily, and turns to her side with a grin. It almost feels odd to smile after frowning for the whole week. The tall mirror’s surface ripples as if water. No signs of danger, or perhaps she misses all of them, or she does sense it and embraces it, because she feels the same exuberant energy she always does return to her, as if she’s soaking it all in like a sponge. With a spring in her step she jumps through the mirror, not caring if she is to be eaten by sharks a moment later.
The mirror turns solid behind her, and, slowly, the door to the Hall of Mirrors shuts with a ghastly creak.
She feels a rush of verve pass through her, nearly taking her breath with it. The world is a distortion that clears into a detailed, vibrant scene. The forest oozes in dazing scents; The sky is candy, luminous - shy pinks, spry lemons, calm blues – held by trees so tall she cannot see their tops; flowers, some as big as she is, some as small as the ant crawling on her shoelace, grow and radiate in gentle rainbow colours; birds chirp their melodic songs. It is warm here, humid, as if in a magickal rainforest.
There is no paved path, and with her magick she swiftly parts bushes and flowers alike into a makeshift archway. What is this place? She wonders, taking in the scenery with every step, Am I really somewhere or…in an illusion? A white rabbit darts across her path and startled she jumps. She senses him before she sees him, and with her heart in her throat she cautiously waves her hand and the trees bend into a walkway, revealing a pocket of large, closed space, littered with ruins of old buildings and chest pieces that the forest had claimed as their own ages ago.
“Apologies, my dear (Name).”  The wind carries his voice to her in a velvety whisper, “I would have come to greet you sooner, but I was not sure if it was you.” Kane tips his hat in curtsy, a smile stretching on his lips as he eyes her curiously, “I am, however, absolutely delighted to see you again.” In a grand gesture he motions to the area, “Well? Do you like it? I was thinking of all sorts of places to show you after our little tea party. I’m hoping no…distractions this time, however.”
“It’s definitely beautiful,” She agrees. He is visibly delighted, “And…no distractions. I came alone.”
“Wonderful. You were the only one invited.”
There is just something about him that is deliberately strange. He has a child-like exuberance about him, which can become extremely chaotic if not contained. But she hardly minds chaos. In fact, after their last encounter, she grew to enjoy it. Who cares if this is an illusion? What does it matter if the sky falls on her head? Who is to say this is not just a dream? Why spoil the fun with all this thinking, Atlas is the thinker, she is the doer. Two sisters can’t be too much alike – that would be unbelievably dull.
The same tender smile does not leave his face, and with one last longing look, he spins on his heel, his first somewhat contained excitement now spurring into arrogance, “Join me!” He exclaims, jutting his elbow for her to take, not once worrying she might not.
(Name) glides to him as if enchanted, wrapping her arm around his. Hints of his cologne hit her nose with a dreamful inhale; the fabric of his jacket is silky and smooth. They fall into step, she too distracted by his closeness to realise how her magick reacts to his: it dances, sways, traces behind them like a cape.
“I was anxious you might have gotten into trouble for defending me.” He says, catching her gaze, “Though I am incredibly grateful.”
She gulps, tries to think about her answer, yet his eyes – what a peculiar colour – are much too beguiling, “Well…There were…No fights, per se.” She hums, quickly glancing away, “We just all…stopped talking.”
“That is quite unfortunate. Though, it is as I told you, (Name). I will be your friend even when no one else will.”
His words bring calmness and a sense of security, however odd that might be, and she smiles to herself, hoping he would not notice. But he does. “Don’t suppose you want to dance with Wood Nymphs? Smoke cigars with the Caterpillar? Cause a massive storm?”
“Wood Nymphs? Cater—You want to destroy this place?
“I’m simply suggesting activities, my dear (Name). I want you to enjoy yourself. I want you to be happy.”
They lock eyes for a long moment, and her heart begins to beat just a little faster.
“But I am.” She admits in a whisper, feeling rose bloom on her cheeks, “I…haven’t had this much fun since…forever.”
“And you have no idea how long is forever if you have no one to share it with.”
There is a pause before she speaks, “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“What do you truly want, Kane?” He perks at the mention of his name, quirks his lips upwards.
“The same thing you want. I want to have fun. Your friends and…colleagues pin me for the evil type. I admit I have some…questionable motives at times, but I only have one objective. To have fun. And where is more fun than on Earth? Illusions lose their charm when there is no one to look at them. And this world can become quite lonesome after some time.”
And the activities commenced, all minus the storm. They had first stumbled upon Wood Nymphs, twirling in circles, donned in silk and cashmere robes. One lounged on a branch high up, playing the golden harp. The melody echoed along with the chirp of birds. The dancing Nymphs soon rushed to them, pulling (Name) out of his grasp with giggles and sweet whispers. She looked at Kane as if to ask if it was alright to join them. He merely winked. A grin broke out on her face as she let the women spin her as she joined their strange dance. But as she glided, stumbled, and watched, trying to catch onto the next move, she kept stealing glances at him, finding him greatly amused at her expense, and his magick playing with the saplings which jittered happily.
Everything was unexplainably loud: the joyful tune, the rustling of leafs, the breaths of Nymphs and their sing-song laughter, the faraway sound of dipping water… And the heat was finally getting to her, and once she spun her foot got caught on a root and she tumbled forward, straight into his chest. He did not even budge, simply caught her with ease.
“Careful now.” He warned, regaled, his lips quirking into a devil-like smile, “How am I to take you dancing if you keep falling over?”
Shakily she apologised, not failing to notice his hands resting on the sides of her waist. But before she could even form a coherent sentence, the Nymphs had stolen her back from him once again, and this time he let her go with laughter. Blushed and flustered, she tried to avoid looking back at him, though the idea was tempting.
When they escaped the Nymphs, they trotted along, and (Name) made sure to show off her crown of flowers the women had placed on her head. They moved with no direction in mind, this forest a labyrinth of secrets. But just as she figured they had taken a wrong path to nowhere, they found a glass garden, big and mossy, yet through the glass she saw butterflies sleeping in flowerbeds. They entered and it was even hotter here, crowded. The pollen emitted peculiar scents: from strawberries, to chocolate, to something pleasant but light-headed. She coughed when she breathed it all in. Suddenly, everything was funny.
And yes, perhaps there was a small storm once they stumbled upon a body of water – oh dear, when had he lost his hat? – and perhaps she was too giddy to control her power, and the leaves which she magickally moulded into makeshift boats shattered along with half of the pond.
But the sky was still candy, still luminous. She isn’t sure if it was before or after the water incident that she realised this place is forever. Her life back at Penderghast felt like a millennia ago, dull, and grey, and full of responsibilities, but here she was free to do as she pleases. There is so much to explore that she knows even if she inspected every inch of this forest that she still would miss something. The possibilities here are endless, and summer here, too.
Before she knew she was back at the begging, at the old mirror which’s surface rippled once more. And fear abruptly struck her and she took a cautious step back, letting go if his hand that she, unknowingly, was holding.
“You don’t want to go back?” He questions, brows raised, pretending to be surprised by her reluctance. She shakes her head.
“I don’t want to leave you.” She admits before she can stop herself, and she feels so stupid for her outburst. He grins, all too pleased, yet the look in his eyes is tender. His hand lands on her cheek, his fingers rough against her sensitive skin.
“The first time I saw your face, I knew it.” She leans into his touch, “I knew there is something undeniably special about you. I am…glad you feel the same.”
“I knew it too.” She whispers, “I just…there were…People trying to convince me otherwise.”
“Do they still matter?”
“No.”
“Good. I do not enjoy sharing.”
And it is finally so painfully clear. The secret that had been heavy in her chest burst free and blooms into awe and love. Love? Fascination, adoration, one may choose which ever word one may, but there is no denying the obvious. This feeling is greater than her, greater than him, and the whole world, every accident, every smile, every painful memory was meant to lead her to this moment. Her eyes gleam with fondness and he knows exactly what she is thinking, because he is thinking it, too. All it takes is one gentle pull and his lips connect with her in a delicious, forbidden kiss that leaves her breathless.
It is over much too soon, and when they part their fingers intertwine.
“Write to me?” She asks.
“I am not sure that would be wise.”
She smirks, “Wise? Who cares about wise? Where’s the fun in wise?”
“Ah, a woman after my own heart.”
“Don’t I already have it?”
“And here I thought you had a shy disposition. I’m proven wrong. It is you who is bad for me, not vice versa.”
She takes a few steps towards the mirror, “You sure you don’t want to come with me?”
“Oh, I do. But I can’t.”
“Because of Alma?”
“And the rest of the faculty, yes.”
“Then I’ll make sure to raise a bit of chaos for you.”
He lands a kiss on her knuckles and finally lets go, watching with a pleased smile as she winks and jumps through the mirror. The world is a delirious contortion once again before all falls into the stale image of the Hall of Mirrors. The rising sun is peaking over the horizon, its rays slowly dissolving the crown on her head, which evaporates into gold and orange smoke. She is shivering from the nights events.
Yet she can’t help herself from smiling. Wide awake she wanders back to the dorms, entering the shared lounge and finding Shreya, sleepy, her hair a mess, stopping by her bedroom door to glance at her, “Morning?” Shreya says, voice hoarse from sleep.
(Name) beams, “Mornin!”
“You’re…up early?”
(Name) hums, “Yeah, I’ve been walking around campus trying to clear my head. Anyway, better catch up on some zs. See you at breakfast?”
Shreya only nods, stumbling into her bedroom and shutting the door behind her. (Name) wonders will the table be silent again. With her so…energetic, that is hardly an option. She will talk everyone’s ears off.
And no one will suspect a thing.
thank you for reading! ❤
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bookishnerdhero · 5 years
Text
ROTBTD - OUAT AU Episode 2 (Part 3)
If you came here not having read the first Episode then you might want to check that one out first. Here's the LINK to the very first post for this Fic. Otherwise this part is pretty confusing.
ROTBTD - The Big Four – OUAT AU
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Present
“Hey Jack! Cool! I ran into you!”
Jamie approached Jack in the town’s small public library, Sandy’s library. The one time in that week Jack had decided to loiter in the library, the one kid whose principal father practically threatened Jack not to hang out with decided to find him. Again. This wasn’t the first time he ‘ran into’ Jack this week.
“Yeah, real cool. Keep it down, we’re in a library,” Jack said, even though there was nobody else around and he wasn’t actually reading anything. He was actually just scrolling absently through his phone, liking memes and videos about people doing elaborate backflips. Sandy’s library’s got really good Wi-Fi.
Right on cue, Sandy smiled from behind the counter and tapped at an embroidered sign that said ‘Reading Time is Quiet Time’ which he bought from Etsy. The lettering was in gold, just like most of Sandy’s decorations and furniture in the library.
“Oh. Sorry,” Jamie said sheepishly.
“For real, are you following me?”
“No. I came here to return these.” He’d placed three hardcover books onto the counter and bunched his cheeks up as he smiled, a look of total innocence. There was a book about Vikings, another about Scottish highlands and clans, and the final was about dragons. Jack couldn’t help remembering the conversation with Hugo about his dragon sketch as he picked up the book. They didn’t seem to be interrelated topics.
“Dragons?”
“I’m doing research.”
“I see.”
This probably also had something to do with comparing Hugo with the Viking in his fairytale book the other day; Jack was sure but somehow knew better than to point it out. Every now and then he’d mention something about Jack Frost, in Jack’s case, and the Viking in the story…what did he call it? Hector, was it? He didn’t really understand Jamie’s game and his interests, maybe it was his version of Dungeons and Dragons or maybe Pitchener wouldn’t allow internet privileges. It didn’t matter. In all fairness, he didn’t really know the kid so he shouldn’t be quick to judge nor should he feel obligated to stick around and be buddy-buddy with him. Jack St. North doesn’t really hang out too much with anyone to begin with. He was invisible but was used to it. The last thing he needed was for people like Pitchener calling him a bad influence when he was, really, just minding his own business. Still, that was rude and Jack hated being made to feel like he was nothing directly.
Sandy took in the books, touching his lips and pointing his hand in a sign of thanks before gesturing at the rest of the library.
“That’s alright. I have a big test tomorrow and my dad doesn’t want me to do any recreational reading until it’s done,” Jamie said, unshouldering his backpack and already walking over to where Jack was near the counter.
Jack was seated in his favorite spot. There were two comfy armchairs beneath the window and a small coffee table where Jack wasn’t supposed to place his feet on. Sometimes Jack liked to sit around and chat with Sandy in the library during afternoons since he wasn’t interested in extra-curricular activities, and occasionally if he happened to skip a class he couldn’t stand. Sandy didn’t really give him too hard a time about it, though he’d eventually have to think up a better explanation to Nicholas. There would always be tea with a little honey for Sandy and some hot cocoa for him, and sugar cookies from a small pantry out back. In a way, the library was a like a sanctuary where Jack could go whenever he gets tired of wandering—since he liked to wander around town and into the woods surrounding it.
When Jamie sat himself down in the chair opposite him Jack considered whether it was a good idea to lightly suggest that maybe he could look for friends his own age who could also be interested in fairytales. Maybe all he needed was a pep talk that they’re out there and he’d have more in common with them, because Jack didn’t really expect that when Jamie said they were ‘friends’ he really meant ‘friends’ as if he expected they would spend more time together. He promised no such thing. Yet somehow Jamie had already sent him a friend request in all his social media platforms and asked him about it, so he couldn’t exactly ignore them, and already made a group chat with Hugo in it. He named the group ‘Operation Nightfury’, which Hugo seemed to understand the context of from reading the book.  He already didn’t have friends of his own judging by the sad amount of memes he’d kept tagging only to Jack and Hugo. He wondered if Pitchener was seeing them because he really didn’t start this.
“So where’s Hiccup?”
“Who?”
“You know, your Viking friend?”
“Oh, the game again. And you mean Hugo. I have no idea where he is, we don’t exactly keep tabs.”
“Really? Jack Frost and Hiccup were really close, though,” Jamie rambled, “Sometimes Jack Frost appears, just when Hiccup needs him the most, and would give him advice. They’d just run into each other. See, Hiccup sometimes forgets to find the fun in things when he gets caught up in the responsibilities of being the next Viking chief.”
“Okay, you lost me. I don’t really know how to follow, I’ve never read the book.”
Jamie legitimately looked sad for a second that Jack wondered if he felt insulted or made fun of. Maybe it was his tone which tended to sound like he didn’t take anything seriously. But the little boy suddenly shifted into a cheery disposition once again, voice all pitchy.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to be weird—“
“No, no, you’re not weird,” Jack said quickly, because he didn’t actually want Jamie to feel bad, there’s really nothing wrong with having an imagination. “It’s me. I just don’t get it. I’m a slow learner.”
“I know I shouldn’t bother people with these fairytales. It’s just that after my real dad would tell me these stories, I would tell it to my little sister and we’d…make a game out of it. Yeah. W-we would imagine people we knew playing the characters in the book…so she would think the world was a little more magical.”
“Wait, sister? You have a sister.”
Now Jamie allowed himself to appear a little sadder about this. “We er...got seperated.”
“Oh.” Jack didn’t ask more. “I'm...sorry to hear that.”
“I don't even know where she is anymore. But, I think...if I could find my dad, he'd be able to find her.”
Jack wasn't so sure a father who abandoned his kids to the foster system in the first place should be allowed to locate the other kid, but he figured he needed to give Jamie some hope. Since his first meeting with Jamie he managed to ask Hugo a bit more about what he knew about his situation. Rumor has it that he was just around six or seven when Pitchener adopted him. No one said anything about a sister and maybe for good reason. He nodded along, genuinely sympathetic.
“She was my responsibility,” Jamie continued, “It feels like I abandoned her.”
“Trust me, kid. It's probably not your fault.” He almost couldn’t look at Jamie. At that instant, he saw too much of himself in the brown haired boy. Jack couldn’t even remember his own childhood memories, but the absence was heavy on him. It was as if he was always searching for something or someone, never really knowing if he’d ever find them. “What was her name?”
“Sophie.”
He remembered one of the voices in his dream last night, before the moon woke him up.
The sky is awake. So I'm awake.
Please tell me a bedtime story, Daddy.
Something in Jack's heart tugged when he heard the name. He thought maybe because all this talk about family and loss reminded him of his own family. Maybe he knew someone named Sophie in his old memories.
"Are you okay?" Jamie asked. It must’ve shown in Jack’s face that he was bothered by something.
"What? It's nothing."
"Do you think maybe I could see her again someday?"
"Hey, now, of course. It's a small world," Jack said. "You never really know who you'll run into."
The library door flew open, as if on cue, and three girls from Disney High clustered in. The uniforms, with the school logo of a castle and an arch over it, were a giveaway. They weren’t noisy, since this was a library, but their presence in the once quiet library made it a little less. Sandy made a welcoming gesture as the girls greeted him.
“Hey, Sandy! Have you got anything new?” a girl with a ponytail secured by a blue bow said while returning an armful of books. Sandy responded with warmth as if this girl was a regular in the library. He proceeded to show her to the Fiction section, while the two other girls seemed deep in animated conversation by the counter. One girl had her dark curly hair up in a sensible bun and was surveying a magazine rack, picking up one about baking. The other girl, Jack was too busy staring at. He couldn’t really pay attention to what they were talking about. It was her. It was the girl from the café. Her hair was styled up a little differently and she looked different in her school uniform. More regal somehow. She actually tilted her head at Jack and he tried to act like he wasn’t just staring.
She probably saw. Jack pretended to be more interested in his phone.
“Why don’t you talk to her?”
“What?” Jack said, flustered and too obvious because he didn’t expect even the kid would notice him.
“That girl?”
He checked to see if the girl heard Jamie.
“I don’t know are you talking about and even if I did it would probably be a better idea to keep our voice down in a library.”
"Because you were looking at her like this.” Jamie made a goofy expression that could not have been his, he must be exaggerating.
“Now why would I do that?”
"Don't you feel the connection?"
"Next you're gonna’ tell me that in that book she's supposed to be, what? Mother Nature? The Easter Bunny?"
"The Easter Bunny's a man...well, bunny, but he's Mr. E. Aster."
"E. Aster? My dad’s friend, also known as my World History teacher who may or may not hate me? You've got to be kidding me."
"It makes sense! Who else would know so much about the world but the Easter Bunny? He's got portals he could hop to at any minute--"
"Okay, okay. I get it.”
Jack stopped, quirked an eyebrow, because the girl was giggling to herself as she watched them, albeit also responding to what the other girl was saying. She was just looking at him.
"Now come on! You clearly have a crush on her, so you might as well talk!"
"You have a no sense of personal boundaries!" Jack replied, but he could already feel himself getting convinced. She was looking at him! She was looking at him!
"I'll be your wing man!"
"Where are you getting all this? You're ten!"
"Come on, Jack! What fun comes out of doing nothing?"
Jack was taken aback from that. It sounded like something he would tell himself before doing something stupid. "Alright. Alright. I'm talking. Not like anything bad is going to happen, so fine."
Jack approached her as casually as he could, walking into an aisle in front of the one she had just ducked into. What was he thinking saying that? Of course this was dumb. He turned around to go back but Jamie was giving him a thumbs up and he couldn’t make things worse by suddenly fleeing so he fumbled through the shelves.
“Uhm, you go on ahead.” He heard the girl say.
He glanced at the book he’d randomly picked, Snow Country by Yasunari Kawabata and proceeded to pretend to be flipping intently through it. But he can only scan a book’s pages so much without really looking at the text, especially when he was actually stalking someone. Where was he going with —?
He looked up and they were seeing each other through the book shelves.
“Hi.” He found himself saying. His voice was, thankfully, normal but he felt a little self-conscious with how deep his normal was. Also, had it always been this quiet?
“Hi,” she said.
“I’ve seen you before,” he said around the same time she mumbled something along the lines of “Have I seen you before?”
“Yeah.”
“Yes.”
“The, er, Cass’ Café, just up the street from here.”
She nodded as he spoke. “Lucky Cat Café, yes, I ran into you.”
“Yeah.”
“Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay.”
“You, er, often go to Lucky Cat Café?”
“Yeah. Yeah.”
There was a moment of painful silence where he had no idea what to say next and whether or not he could just nod and retreat. He’d caught her attention, it was too late, and all he kept saying was ‘yeah’.
He looked back at where he wanted to retreat to and caught sight of Jamie watching him, mouthing “Say something!” with apparent exasperation. He made his eyes go wide and tried to tell him to ‘chill’ without exactly saying it. Unfortunately, the kid and his movements were grandiose enough that the girl saw it as well.
"Kids.” He tried to shrug it off but it doesn’t seem like an explanation but a dead give-away of what this was, so he might as well roll with it. Accept that it was an attempt at flirting.
"I understand. I have a younger sister. You two are lucky to be close."
"Oh, he's not my brother. Just a friend. New kid in town, decided to show him around."
"I see.” She held her chin with her thumb and forefinger in a gesture of thoughtfulness. “I never pegged you for the warm and hospitable type."
"Pegged me? Wait, you've seen me before? I mean, before-before?"
It took her a minute to reply because she realized she said something to make herself obvious now too. "Around. Yes. I notice a lot of people."
Jack smirked, he couldn’t help it. "And here I thought people barely acknowledge that I exist."
"I find that hard to believe," she said under her breath.
"What?"
"I mean, people. Unbelievable sometimes."
"Eva? I found what I was looking for, you coming?" the girl with the blue bow in her hair said. The two other girls were now waiting for her by the counter and were raising their eyebrows at Jack.
"Oh, er, yes."
“Eva?” he tried out her name. “So I guess I’ll just wait and see if you’ll be around at the café again sometime. Assuming you don’t see me first.”
She made an awkward laugh and covered her mouth as she backed away from the aisle. The three girls walked to the door and he saw the other two taking glances back at him, each playfully elbowing Eva now and then.
“Okay now, who was that?” the girl with a bun and, now, a cookbook in her arms asked.
“I don’t know. I—“ she was trying hard not to smile. Trying.
“Mm-hmm.”
“I’ve never seen him before,” the other girl with a blue bow and, now, a larger stack of books said.
“I’m so stupid. I forgot to ask his name.”
Jack acted like he wasn’t really listening all the while, sauntering back into his seat with the copy of Snow Country still in his hands. It was only after he heard her say it that he realized he’d forgotten to tell her his name, but hopefully it means he’ll still see her again. He’ll definitely keep an eye out for her.
"You're blushing."
"No I'm not."
"You do like her."
 It was only a little later that they left the library, right after Sandy gave them snacks and started teasing Jack about the girl too. Jamie insisted on following Jack, since he was going to wait at the café again and wanted to tell him about the story of the friendship between the queens of the Enchanted Forest. It was in the middle of telling him a particularly different version of Princess and the Frog than he remembered that they bumped into Audrey.
"Hey, er...what's your name again?" Audrey, who normally couldn’t be bothered to even talk to Jack, asked.
"Jack. It's a very common name.” And his situation in town should’ve made it very hard to miss. “How come people forget?"
"Oh, yeah, right,” she continued dismissively, “I was looking for Hugo. Have you seen him? He was supposed to be at Hockey practice today but he bailed out. Again."
"I didn't think he got to play Hockey. Or liked to."
"Yeah, but you know his dad."
Jack raised an eyebrow.
"Never mind. You wouldn't understand. I've been trying to help him but if he doesn't show up there's nothing I can do.” She had a hand on her hip and a particular expression of disappointment that suggested this wouldn’t be the first time. “Anyway, if you see him, tell him I was looking for him."
She didn’t have to wait for Jack to respond before going ahead.
 ***
Past
Merida had her bow drawn. Her heart was beating madly and it occurred to her how stupid it was for her to have wandered off alone. Especially now with sinister things at large in these parts of the woods. It was too late, of course, and she was now face to face with—
“Pitch Black.”
“The one and only,” the man replied with a silvery voice. He had such a presence about him that suggested fear—cold, endless, fear. His face was corpse-like, sunken eyes staring back at her like an almost empty skull. Most of the first few seconds with this monster was spent with him circling her; whether studying or taunting her, she wasn’t sure. The words he’d bought up again were about her and Hiccup, stitching together whatever doubts she’d had in the cave to what he’d warned her earlier in the woods.
"You know what they say, that's just how the story goes."
"What are you going on about?" she tried to tamp down whatever bad feeling she had while in his presence, suppressing all of her doubts about what just happened. The Dark One can sense desperation, she remembered from Maudie’s tales to the triplets. You best wish you’d never see him in the wood. To see him is a bad omen.
"Did you think you were meant to be? If anything I'd say you were nothing but star-crossed.” He obviously talking about her and Hiccup, trying to get to her. She backed away slowly in an attempt to run off, but he reappeared at her side.
“I know how these stories go--the hero goes off to do the right thing," he continued with a thin smile. He gestured with his arms, making shadows materialize in thin air, showing her a dream vision or a nightmare vision. Dark magic. "The story should go that he defeats great threats against his people, marries Astrid and leads the Vikings with their Dragons, forging a new path and name his once small village.” Small shadow versions of the Vikings and their dragons appeared in the space between her and Pitch, the village of Berk rising and improving before her eyes.
“He will be the greatest chieftain the the Hairy Hooligan Tribe and the isle of Berk has ever seen and finally bring honor to his father’s reputation. A true happy ever after.” He paused to see her reaction before saying, with such relish, “You're just getting in the way."
"I didn't...I didn't ask for us to meet,” Merida said after the shadows faded.
"The only reason why the two of you met is because you tried to change your fate and now everyone else's fates would suffer for it. Including..." he takes her by the chin and makes her look at another vision where Hiccup is surrounded by the highlanders in the ring of stones, "his."
"No!” She threw her arm over the shadow and then faced the Dark One with as much fierceness as she could muster. “Why are you showing me this? What do you want?"
"Let's just say I have a general concern about all things happening in this land. I keep tabs, you see. Your kind of love would bring nothing but conflict to either one of you or both your people. Though I couldn't care less how that turns out, details, details, I'm what you would call...an opportunist. I see a person in desperate need of an answer, I go and give them another option."
His smile was anything but trustworthy.
"And what is that?"
"Ready to make a deal, are we?"
"I don't even know what you're trying to propose. I've dealt with complicated bargains in the past, I'm not about to make another mistake. I won't go through with this." She tried to leave again and this time it almost seemed like he would let her go. There was nothing in her way but a part of her stayed to listen.
"But what if I tell you there was a way for you to have both? Be in the arms of your lover,” he said, forming new shadows, “and ensure the safety of your kingdom?"
It was as if the whole wood went silent.
"State your terms."
"Have you ever heard of a forgetting spell?"
(End of Part 3)
Episode 1
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Episode 2
Part 1
Part 2
Tag List: @rose-sparks13 @beautifulslimezonkpaper @rosesnvines@jewishicequeen @hiddenwriterspirit @shiroi-majo
Just let me know in the comments if you want to be tagged!
Thanks for reading!
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post-itpenny · 5 years
Note
(lap) for Peregrine and Phoebe
Thistle
This turned out so much longer than I planned and is quite full of angst and a good few flashbacks. Enjoy!
Vespers always loved visiting the D’Vitt family home. So much life and family filled the place, whenever he visited even before marrying Cosmos he always felt so welcomed my Stripes and Mama Carol. Vespers could guarantee whenever he came he could feel excepted and at ease.
Except today.
Vespers was a nervous wreck, pacing the floor and giving updates as one of the few allowed inside the room. The baby was coming.
More than once Stripes had to give Vespers a firm shake just to make sure the poor guy had not passed out standing up and Maggie had to stop him from demanding a fifth cup of coffee to steady his nerves. Eventually he did not leave the room and they all knew it must be time.
So everyone waited.
Including the three who had just arrived.
Peregrine did not like the D’Vitt family home. So noisy and full of people. He kept getting odd looks and did not understand why the rudeness. He did not feel welcomed in the least bit.
Juno quickly left to go find someone who could give an update and Lyra was pulled aside by Lydia.
Peregrine frowned, he had never really been one for intermixing however it would be hypocritical to say otherwise. He had not originally approved of his sister-in-law’s choice of mate but Lyra would have defended her twin to the bitter end. If he was being honest in the end of it all came his nephew whom Peregrine has to admit he had a soft spot for, the whole family did really.
Peregrine sat in a chair away from the other’s, not really wishing to speak with anyone. They were all caught in their own conversations anyways. Maggie walked into the room and took one look at him before bolting back out. At one point his sister of all people came into the room. Magpie gave a small smile and moved as if to come sit by him, Peregrine in turn glared, he had no desire to be anywhere near her still. Not if he could help it.
Magpie seemed to deflate a little before a tall woman took her elbow and guided Magpie off to another group.
Peregrine tried his best to ignore his sister’s chatter. How did she fit so well here?
Peregrine left the room without a glance towards Magpie, soon finding himself in an empty hallway with a single chair across from a mirror.
Peregrine slumped down into the chair with a huff, looking across at the clown that stared back, his reflection. Peregrine grimaced, he couldn’t stand his reflection, couldn’t stand the scare that ran up one side of his face. He had Magpie to thank for that.
She had gone mad, there was no other way to describe the thing that was charging at him. Magpie was a thousand things at once and all of them raving mad. Scales, fur, eyes, teeth, many legs, or only wings, as if she was every creature in existence but then none at all. Peregrine braced himself as she crashed into him. Every sinew of muscle fighting to keep her in place.
There was a hand waving in Peregrine’s face.
“Hey there! What’s got you over here all by yourself?”
Peregrine looked up to the smiling face of Aster. They had not really ever talked though he had heard from Vespers via his phone calls to Juno and Lyra that he was a clown of cheerful disposition and more importantly Vespers’ father-in-law.
Peregrine straightened up, “I’m waiting, same as everyone else of course.”
Aster chuckled as he scratched the back of his head, “I mean by yourself though. You seem like a guy with something on your mind.”
Peregrine glanced away, “nothing is on my mind that makes for conversation.”
Aster’s smile seemed to falter a little, “well if you would like you can join us if you would like. I’m sure it won’t be too much longer of a wait. That’s a nice tattoo by the way.”
Peregrine looked down at his hand, the outline of a thistle on his left hand. “It’s the family tattoo…. the baby will be allowed one…. when it’s ready of course. You have to earn it, a symbol of adulthood.”
“But Maggie has one doesn’t she? Jelly told me she did.”
Peregrine flinched, “my sister vouched for her” he sneered.”
He found the red headed thing under Juno’s bed. He had heard his daughter talking to someone and opened the bedroom door to find her. The thing reeked of Magpie, how? She was so human yet so not. A deadlight in a human body, an abomination.
Peregrine closed his eyes at the memory. That was the first time Vespers had ever argued with anyone actually. The first time and it was with his father. Peregrine learning his children had been visiting their aunt, sneaking her ward into his home. He felt so betrayed.
Juno had enough respect to listen to her father. Vespers wouldn’t speak to him for a week after.
“You don’t particularly care for your sister do you?” Aster questioned.
Peregrine snorted, “not particularly no I don’t. I see you all do however.”
Aster’s smile wavered again. So much venom in Peregrine’s voice, so much bitterness.
“I understand you have a history, but today is not about that, isn't it?”
Peregrine looked to Aster in surprise, seeming like he was somewhat offended.
“It’s not about any of us,” Aster continued, “it’s bout the boys. We’re going to be grandfather’s Peri- well I already am one but I get to be a grandfather to someone new!”
Peregrine flinched at the nickname. Only three had ever been allowed to call him that, and one of them was dead now.
Aster brightened, reaching up one sleeve to produce of all things a thistle. It was beautiful in color, a rich purple.
“Nobility, courage, and loyalty-“
“In the face of treachery.” Peregrine finished, “how did you know?”
Aster smiled and handed Peregrine the flower. “Well flowers are a thing for me. Got to pass that down to my son Pepper, Cosmos takes after his mom a bit more if I’m honest. What do you think this one will be like? The baby I mean.”
“....... I just hope she’s not like her great aunt.”
“Oh.” Aster said, unsure how to really respond.
“No I mean my sister’s talent for creation runs in the family. Our elder will actually be visiting soon I expect, you’ll see what I mean then….. most of them die young, the one’s like him….. or just… are lost.”
“Was Magpie lost? Was that the problem?”
Peregrine was struggling to hold the thing that was once Magpie in place. The ground cracked around them, the sky seemed to warp and change colors like a glass prism. Around them were loud booms like a crack of sonic thunder and he found himself wondering in that moment if she was trying to tear the world apart in her insanity. But he had to stop her, keep her from getting to their father again. His broken body behind Peregrine as their mother held tightly to him. Claws reached out and raked down his face, it felt like fire burning into his skin.
Aster had a hand on Peregrine’s shoulder, but he did not say anything. Peregrine shook in anger. He knew their parents forgave her but why? She ruined their father’s leg, she tried to kill him. Their mother-
Peregrine had a mouth full of dust, gravel cutting into his hands. She towered over their parents, reaching to take hold of their mother’s mask and pull it off.
Magpie shrieked in pain. The skin of her hands burning black as if set on fire. It was a good thing really, it brought her back to her senses, but not before the world was crashing down on them.
His best friend died that day. He had come to help bring Magpie home, and he died.
All his children did was cry to see their aunt.
His son grew to be bitter with him, leave home and visit that killer whenever he wished. Feed her and keep her company in a prison when she should have vanished to nothing.
But now here she was. Magpie was living and happy. His son couldn’t stand him, his wife was at the end of her patience, his daughter going against his wishes at every turn.
Peregrine looked up to the mirror in front of him and wondered when he had started crying.
“I guess she was lost.” He said at long last.
“But she’s found now,” Aster observed.
Peregrine gave a deep sigh, feeling the weight of many long years with it. “Yes….. I guess she is.”
Peregrine stood up and smoothed his hair before frowning at his reflection. “I need a haircut.”
“Or this,” Aster said as he offered Peregrine a hair tie.
Yes that would work.
Lyra, as it turned out, liked his ponytail. Peregrine has been brought back to the others by Aster. Lydia and her mother-in-law having gone to help with the delivery. Peregrine was not one for conversation, he used to be he vaguely remembered. Far more than Magpie who seemed to be eager to be friends with everyone. Peregrine eyed the long red gloves she wore that hid her scars from the world. He felt a twinge of jealousy, he could never hide his.
Vespers eventually emerged looking as if on cloud nine, and covered in coffee.
“I thought you were cut off?” Juno questioned.
Vespers grinned as his wings unfolded and he proceeded to unbutton his shirt from the back. It was a clever trick when a normal shirt was not an easy option.
Vespers took his shirt off to reveal a thistle tattooed directly over his heart. A member of the D’Vitt’s questioned the tattoo before Juno proudly pulled her own shirt up just enough to see the thistle that graced the side of her ribcage. Magpie took off her own jacket to show the thistle on her shoulder and Cosmos’ sister convinced Maggie to unbutton her dress just enough to show the thistle that was etched up her spine.
Peregrine could see just the edge of a nasty scar on Maggie’s back. He looked away to Lyra and his eyes fell on the high collar of her dress, hiding the scars on her neck.
Peregrine, in that single moment, felt ... ashamed.
He had done that, not directly but it was ultimately his fault. Magpie might have scarred herself and him. But he, Peregrine, has caused scars of his own.
And Magpie had the decency to be sorry about her’s….. was she the bigger person then? When did that happen?
“Dad show yours!” Vespers demanded.
Peregrine looked at his son and was surprised to see a smile being directed at him. No anger, no persecution, his son was genuinely smiling at him.
Peregrine held out his hand to show off his tattoo. Five thistles, there was something about it that made him feel a swell of pride.
Vespers as it turned out, was there to bring back the grandfathers.
It was a girl.
A tiny little girl that was curled up in her father’s arms. Peregrine cried for the second time that day.
Later, after Blackwood had come and gone along with everything that was a result of his visit. Peregrine found himself with his granddaughter in his arms, resting in his lap. They had named her Phoebe, it was perfect. And for the first time in a very, very long time. Peregrine felt at peace.
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marypsue · 6 years
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I meant to finish this for ROTG Fave Ship Week, Prompt #2: Mythology, but then life happened and it didn't get done in time. Still, better very, very late than never?
...
Tia advertises herself as a 'practitioner of positive magicks', these days. She knows she catches some flak - snide comments about 'fluffy bunnies', the occasional bad review on FaceBookOfShadows or Yowl from people who came in looking for curse ingredients - for her angel card readings and fairy garden offerings, but she's been at this for long enough that it doesn't really bother her anymore. She's seen what the 'dark side' has to offer, and honestly, it's a little underwhelming.
Besides, her garden never gets bugs or blight, and there's never a line when she stops for coffee. She must be doing something right.
She tags along to circles mostly because Sandra invites her. Tia's got nothing against Gaia, but then, she's never gone in much for gods in general. In her opinion, they’re a little like cats. She’s not sure what they really have to do with the craft, other than contributing to the aesthetic, and giving them treats (or, in the case of gods, offerings) just encourages them.
Tia can't resist a party, though, and the summer solstice is the biggest party until Samhain. The potlatch is always to die for, too, especially if St. North brings his famous, if unseasonal, gingerbread.
St. North and his gingerbread are, thankfully, in attendance this year, as are Jackie and her punch, and Aster and her egg salad. The rest of the usual suspects all seem to be in attendance - Tia even catches sight of Koz lurking in a darkened corner, despite the fact that she's pretty sure they've dedicated themselves to Trickster - as well as a few new faces. A couple of teenagers, the girl who looks like she's humouring the boy's wide-eyed enthusiasm; a cluster of four middle-aged ladies who came with velvet robes and a bad case of the giggles; a scholarly-looking older gentleman who gives the impression that at any moment he might whip out a pipe and start puffing on it thoughtfully; and a statuesque woman of indeterminate age in a green silk shift that ripples like a field of long grass in a high wind when she moves, which is not often. She stands a little apart from the crowd, surveying the buffet table and the lawn with a gaze that would seem casual and unconcerned if it weren't for the intensity of her dark eyes.
"Is that one of Koz' relatives?" Tia asks Sandra, nudging her with one elbow to get her to look in the stranger's direction. If anyone should know anything about Koz' relatives, it's bound to be Sandra.
But Sandra just shrugs, and then gestures towards the table, already groaning with food. Tia glances from the tempting spread to the woman in green, and makes up her mind.
"I'm going to go find out," she says. Sandra shrugs again, reaching up to snag a samosa off one of the plates Tia's carrying before making a beeline for the table.
The woman in green seems surprised when Tia approaches her, as though she hadn't expected it, even though Tia had watched her watching the party all the way over. Her long, dark hair falls in shining waves to the small of her back, her proud nose and olive skin betraying some Mediterranean heritage. Probably not a relative of Koz', then. Up close, she's even taller than she'd seemed, towering over Tia by at least two full feet. Somehow, still, even when she's literally looking down at Tia, she doesn't seem to be looking down on her.
Tia offers the plates she's holding almost as an excuse - no, wait, definitely as an excuse. Sandra would tell her off for being such an insufferable busybody - after she was done debriefing Tia for all the gossip, of course. "Sorry, I thought you were a friend of mine. Well, a relative of a friend of mine," she babbles, laughing to cover her sudden attack of nerves. There's something deeply unsettling about being the sole focus of the stranger's attention. "I noticed you didn't seem all that interested in the food, but I made samosas and some veggie pakoras, and I happen to think they're my best batch yet, I'll have to come up with some other recipe if I want to top myself for Samhain, maybe something with pumpkin in it? I know it's a cliché, but -"
Tia's tongue tangles into a knot in her mouth when the stranger reaches one elegant, long-fingered hand down and selects a pakora from the plate Tia holds out. She brings it up to eye level, gazing intently at it as she turns it that way and this, and Tia notices that her talon-like nails are black - not like they've been painted or shellacked, but like they're made of black horn.
Tia's read plenty of books where characters have been described as having teeth like strings of pearls, but this is the first time she's met someone who seems to deserve it. The stranger's teeth, when she opens her mouth to take a bite of the pakora, are brilliant white, somehow slightly iridescent, and seem just a little too sharp for being set into a human-looking face.
Tia realises she'd just thought 'human-looking' instead of 'human' at the same time as the stranger sinks those unusually sharp teeth into Tia's - there's no other word for it - offering. The stranger's eyes sink closed as her mouth does, and a little smile curls it upwards at the corners.
"That is delicious," she says, swallowing, and Tia feels heat rising up the back of her neck. The stranger's voice is surprisingly deep, smooth and dark as velvet.
"Oh, good," Tia babbles. "Do you like the spice blend? I hope I can get it right again, I only figured it out through trial and error, and it was a whole lot of error -"
The stranger turns her smile on Tia, opening her eyes. Tia had thought they were dark before, but somehow they're not. They're a deep, rich, emerald, though no less intense than they had been.
"I'm certain you will," she says, and there's a strange quirk to her smile, a curious lilt to her voice, as though there's more behind her words than just a simple hope or reassurance.
Tia tries to swallow, realises how dry her mouth's become.
"Would - would you like a samosa, too?" she manages, and the stranger smiles at that, wide and white and real, before reaching down and taking one.
...
Sandra looks up from the buffet when Tia slams down her plates on the table. Both Sandra's eyebrows shoot towards her hairline, and she smiles expectantly.
"She's not a relative of Koz'," Tia says, almost snarls. She doesn't understand why she's suddenly so angry. "She calls herself Serafina, and she's stunning and awe-inspiring and weird, and I think she might be Gaia in disguise."
Tia hadn't thought it would be possible for Sandra's eyebrows to climb any higher, and yet somehow she manages it.
"I don't know either!" Tia complains. "But there's something going on with her. And it's midsummer, and we're throwing a party just to celebrate and invoke Gaia, and, I mean, if gods like Wiseman can turn up in human guise to test the faith of their followers, then why not her? And I think -" She has to stop and swallow hard. Her mouth is still dry, despite the two margaritas she'd poured down her throat. "I think I just made her an offering."
Sandra's eyebrows drop back down so fast that Tia can almost hear the thunderclap. The smile that crosses her sweet face is incongruously wicked.
"No," Tia says. "No. I know what you're thinking, and no."
Sandra's smile grows, if possible, even wider.
...
Tia's angel cards stop talking to her the next day.
She's just sat down to do a reading - for a paying customer, no less - but when she lays out the cards in a spread, every single card she flips is blank. The little hand-painted angel figures, with all their wings and eyes and rich robes, are gone.
"I'm - I'm terribly sorry," Tia says to the woman tapping her foot impatiently against the floor. She checks the deck - still full of painted angels - and gives it a shuffle, before laying down another spread. "Let's try that again."
The first card she flips is blank.
"Is this supposed to happen?" Tia's client asks. There's an edge in her voice like she's ready to get up and walk out.
Tia flips all of the cards. Blank, blank, blank.
Tia flops back in her chair, and stares at the empty spread in front of her in disbelief.
She ends up refunding the client. As she's showing the woman the door, apologising profusely, she happens to look down.
There's a zucchini on her front step.
...
Tia tries reading for herself. Tries a little crystal healing. Tries to summon a fairy guide.
It doesn't matter what she does. There's radio silence from beyond the veil. Whatever Tia was in contact with before, it's packed up and walked out on her.
Tia is mundane.
...
Sandra arrives in record time. When Tia answers the door, she's holding two acorn squash and giving Tia a puzzled look.
"What're those for?" Tia asks. Sandra shrugs, gesturing to Tia's front step, and Tia barely bites back a groan.
"Excellent! This is just what I needed." She throws her hands up in the air, before tugging on her hair with both fists. "Sandra, you're the expert. How do I get rid of a god's favour?"
Sandra's eyebrows shoot up, and she gives Tia a warning look.
"Ooh, I know, but - I don't know what else to do!" She steps back to let Sandra in to the entryway, sitting down on the lowest of the stairs. "She's scaring off everything else, and I don't know anything about nature workings, and I don't want a patron god, and I'm not doing any quests or missions, and she keeps giving me vegetables -" She cuts herself off with a strangled, frustrated scream into her hand.
Sandra purses her lips, and Tia can tell she's trying not to laugh. "It's not funny," she protests, aware that she's whining.
Sandra shifts one of the acorn squash to the other arm so she can waggle a hand in disagreement. Tia sighs.
"All right, maybe it's a little funny," she mutters, and pushes herself up off the steps. "Well, are you planning to stand out here laughing at me all night, or are you going to come up and help me?"
...
Sandra's something of an expert on summonings, divinations, and spirit communications, but even she can’t get anything from Tia’s usual suspects. The shit-eating grin slowly fades from her face the longer she can't get any signal, and she finally sits back with a frown, stubbing out a cone of incense with her thumb.
"See? I told you!" Tia complains, waving an arm towards the chalk circles and little piles of offerings that Sandra's scattered across her kitchen floor. "It's like having a shark swimming around! All the little fishes got scared off and now they're hiding!" She fixes Sandra with a glower that melts the delighted grin that scrolls across Sandra's face. "And don't you dare make some crack about there being plenty of fish in the sea."
Sandra shrugs both shoulders, and then climbs up from where she's been sitting on the floor. She gathers up her divination kit, and starts towards the door.
"Oh, wait! Please, you're not just giving up, are you?" Tia runs after her, catching Sandra just as she's about to step out into the stairwell. "Sandra, I'm serious. All of my magic is gone! What am I going to do?"
Sandra pauses, with Tia's hand on her elbow, and looks up. There's no hint of a smile on her face as she looks deeply, searchingly, into Tia's eyes, and says, "Talk to her."
Tia stammers over an attempt at a comeback, but Sandra only pats her arm and gently prises her grip free, making her way out the apartment door and down the stairs.
...
The next morning, Tia can't get her front door open for vines. A perfect, round, blood-red tomato thwacks her in the knuckles when she tries to wrench the door free.
She leaves the shop closed for the day, heads upstairs to find her chalk.
...
Gaia appears with a clap of thunder and a flash of lightning, fog rolling off of her and filling Tia's small apartment. She's the same as she'd appeared at midsummer, and yet different as well - she hadn't sported the heavy, curved black horns that are tangled in with her masses of thick dark hair, and her eyes had not had snake-pupil slits, and she had not been accompanied by a distant sound of rain and birdsong.
She appears triumphant in Tia's apartment, arms spread wide and a look of self-satisfied benevolence on her face. It very quickly disappears when one of Tia's decorative pillows bounces off the side of her head.
"Ow!" Gaia says, her beautiful deep voice echoing with earthquakes and volcanic eruptions, as she reaches down to pick up the pillow. "What the -"
She seems to notice, for the first time, Tia standing in the middle of the room, breathing hard and with another decorative pillow ready to throw.
"Go away!" Tia yells. She's pretty sure this isn't what Sandra had meant when she'd said 'talk to her', but...it's talking. Well. Yelling. Same difference. "I was perfectly happy and fine without you! You drove away all my spirits, ruined my business, trapped me in my own home - I don't need a patron! I don't want your favour! Leave me alone!"
Gaia blinks. If Tia weren't well acquainted with the legendary arrogance of gods, she'd almost think that Gaia looks shell-shocked.
"You approached me," she rumbles, dangerously. "You alone recognised me at my own festival, you made me an offering -"
"Only because I thought you were pretty!" Tia blurts, and then claps both hands over her mouth.
Gaia's darkening expression suddenly switches to one of confusion.
"Lonely! I meant to say lonely!" Tia babbles, flapping her hands nervously. Gaia ducks one particularly wild swing with the pillow Tia's still holding. "You didn't have anybody with you, and I was just trying to be friendly, and - I don't need a god," she says, firmly, planting both hands on her hips and trying to look confident and menacing.
Gaia looms over her, her expression pure befuddlement.
"I am beauty itself, in its purest form, wild and untamed and awe-inspiring -" she starts, and then cuts herself off. "You think I'm pretty?"
"I'm - I'm very sorry if I've insulted you," Tia says. "But, uh, yes?"
Gaia looks down at Tia, almost wonderingly. Tia stares back, defiant.
Gaia clears her throat.
"You may not need a god," she says, enunciating every word carefully and not meeting Tia's eyes. "But how about a girlfriend?"
It's Tia's turn to be dumbfounded.
"Um," she says.
"Think about it," Gaia says. There's an evergreen hue to her stark cheekbones that Tia thinks, suddenly, crazily, must be a blush. Gaia clears her throat, throws her shoulders back, and shakes out her hair. "I shall expect your answer by Samhain," she adds, imperiously, and goes a darker green when Tia rolls her eyes.
"I'll think about it," Tia says, finally. She looks up at Gaia's strange green eyes, and finds herself compelled to add, "But...it would help my decision if you courted me? Not with vegetables," she adds, hurriedly.
Gaia's still green, but a wicked smile slashes a scimitar-curve across her face.
"Well, then," she says. "It seems I have my work cut out for me. Very well, little mortal."
"That's not exactly the most endearing pet name," Tia interrupts, but Gaia ploughs valiantly on.
"Prepare yourself to be courted," she says, and then shoots Tia a wink that leaves Tia, momentarily, speechless. "Expect my visitation!"
And then, with another flash of lightning and clap of thunder, she's gone again.
Tia stands in the middle of the living room for a full fifteen minutes before she can wrap her head around what just happened.
...
When Tia tells Sandra, Sandra laughs and laughs.
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Styles & Co - Part 6
Authors note: This isn't as exciting as the last chapter, but my ideas are all over the place and I can't piece them together. Up coming chapters will have a little more spice to them, hopefully. Enjoy, and thank you for reading!! Xx
I leisurely wake up, feeling the bed cool and empty, the unexpected noise downstairs making my heart race.
"Harry?" I summon, carefully getting out of bed, grabbing Harry's business button up from the floor, sliding it up my arms to keep me covered.
At least I managed to put on a bra and underwear after our crazed, dizzy, intimacy.
"Damnit!" I hear Harry curse from downstairs and I carefully make my way to the staircase, walking down them as my eyes adjust to the lighting, "Harry, you okay?" I call after, making an effort to find where he is and what the hell he is doing at an ungodly hour.
"Fucking, fine." He grumbles from the kitchen with a temper.
I walk in and see him at the fridge, "What's wrong?" I rub the sleep from my eyes, adjusting my eyes to the lighting of the kitchen.
"You had to get a fucking tree and stick it in the bloody way." He broodily mumbles, "I come down to get a drink and I stumble into a fucking tree." He ill-fatedly chews one's words, and I can't help but pay attention to the low cut sweatpants that are exposing his 'V' line and teasing me with how low they're hanging.
"Harry, please calm down," I whisper with a sigh, knowing he's just exhausted and cranky.
He lets out a heavy sigh before he turns to face me, "come here." He instructs with authority. I can't help but bite my lip and walk closer to him. "I'm not going to bite you, come closer." He chuckles, his voice not as raucous.
I step closer, unsure of what he's going to do. He looks down at me before pulling me in for a kiss. A very unexpected kiss. "I'm sorry, I'm just—" I gently cut him off,
"Grouchy? Sleep deprived? A moody jackass?" I smile at him, admiring his darling eyes that are shining more of a soft blue than a green or grey.
He rolls his eyes, "I was going to say exhausted," his hands pull me closer formerly gently pressing to my arms that stay across my body, stopping the unbutton shirt from exposing my body. "But, I guess a grouchy—ass, is close enough." He smirks with a cocking grin.
"Whatever you're thinking. No." I instantly shake my head, conscious of the appearance of those glistening eyes, "Baby, I can't sleep." He pouts his lips, gently moving my arms, releasing my grip on the shirt to expose the undergarments under it.
"That's too bad, Styles." I speak in a low voice, giving him a tender kiss on his pouty lips, "you'll have to do a lot more than that, my dear." I wink, observing as he bites his lip with great devotion.
His smouldering eyes look with a fixed stare into mine. it takes everything in me not to give in.
What fun would it be if he didn't have to work for it? Foreplay and teasing is something I cherish, in particularly when he can't withstand my inclinations.
"Making me work for you, again?" He tilts his head to the side, his hand effeminately pressing to my exposed skin.
I grin, giving him a nod, "always. But, I have to be awake again in two hours so I'm going back to sleep, you should do the same." I inform him, observing as his eyes roll and he again begins to pucker those lips.
That pout can make my heart melt in his hands with ease. "Harry." I heave a sigh, my arms wrapping around his neck, "We could just stay awake." He presents as an alternative mischievously, placing a seal of love to my lips, "Of course if you want to." He mumbles against my lip, biting my lip mildly before pulling away, beginning to entice me all over again. Damn his desirability.
"Harry." I sigh, "I'm tired and so are you. We have work." I mildly press, and he nods.
We've already had sexual relations once, and that was enough to satisfy me and wear me out. Another round of shaky, wet thighs and dizzy sensations wasn't what I was looking for when waking back up.
"Go to bed and sleep, Elise. I'll be in soon." He presses a loving kiss to my lips, his hands dropping from my body. I look over to the clock, five-fifteen. Harry's habitually awake anyway getting ready for work, and by the time I end up falling asleep my alarm will wake me instantly.
"Harry. Not so hard this time." I murmur, delicately tugging at his arm, wanting him to acquaint himself with me upstairs.
"Elise, are you sure?" He probes courteously, being a gentleman as usual. I'm glad that after all this time he still somewhat makes sure I am up for it. I nod, "I'll try not to make you dizzy this time." He winks, graciously pressing me against the edge of the kitchen counter.
I roll my eyes at his feelings of excessive pride and conceit, beginning to regret telling him he hit me in the right places.
I've boosted his ego to an all-time high and he has no intentions on living it down. "Harry-" I press my hands to his chest, "don't fucking fuck with me this time." I give fair warning, feeling his hand leisurely gliding up my thigh,
"Darling, whatever do you mean?" He murmurs, that damn grin forming on his face again, his hand coaxing my inner thigh. "Don't fucking tease." I firmly state, not wanting the teasing game to be all with him teasing me to my limits.
I much have a tendency toward being the teaser and not the teased. "Ms.Elise! Language!" He chuckles, crashing his lips against mine, continuing to tease me in every way possible as I'm leaning against the counter.
I pull away, "one more damn time and you'll regret it." I say in a low voice, wanting his hands all over my eager, needy, body. I crave his touch and the ache he leaves behind.
My hands dance along the band of his sweats, gradually but surely meddling with him like he spites me. I run my hand diplomatically over his prized possession, feeling him intensify the kiss passionately as he's clearly aroused even further. "Be nice." He says in a low voice against my wet lips, my hand continuing to graze against the bulging desire that's desperate to be unleashed,
"No." I breathe, deciding not to be gracious to him, much preferring to make his head spin the way he makes mine spin with every feathery touch his fingers allow against my thighs.
"No?" Harry huskily blathers, pulling his lips far away from mine just to so they aren't touching.
"No." I insist on, pulling our bodies closer and slipping my hand below the sweatpants.
For a moment his hands remove themselves from my warm skin, a groan escaping his lips before his indulgent lips crash against mine, the taste of him being enough to satisfy me for the moment. He vigorously grips my body, placing me on the kitchen counter.… … …
*** ***
I walk rapidly up the stairs of my boss' building, my legs battling to climb the stairs in my heels. The extra workout I received from Harry tired me out and to my luck, the elevator is currently being fixed. I ultimately reach the level my office is on, taking in a deep breath as the receptionist gazes at me, flashing me a small smile. "Elise," she nods, looking me up and down while I adjust my damn skirt. I give her a little smile, striding to my office and instantly collapsing into my chair noticing two bouquets of charmingly arranged flowers on my desk.
Two vastly different arrangements sit on my desk without any reason or warning. I can only assume one is my one and only darling. My eyes look with a fixed stare at the two; I lean closer to the courtesy of twelve fresh cut pink roses, Peruvian lilies, asters and more wrapped up flawlessly in a golden box.
"Not only are you late, but you have two arrangements of flowers... do I dare ask?" Addilyn leans on the door frame of my office, her arms crossed as her eyes stare over at me, attempting to figure out what's going on. I give her an innocent smile, "you're thirty minutes late, you're smiling before coffee... what did you do?" She chuckles, pushing off the doorframe and striding closer to my desk.
I lean back on my chair, giving her my usual ingenuous resemblance. "Your hair is a bit messy, your shirt looks a little crinkled... did you wrestle with an old man for the last croissant?" She amuses herself, apprehending my attire.
In my defence, it's Harry's fault. Once we finished our intimacy in the kitchen I moved to the bedroom where I minded my own business. I was merely interrupted while trying to put my work attire on. Harry's hands were far too slow while trying to button his shirt up, and one kiss led to two, which led to other things, which ultimately is the reason why I'm late with a creased shirt. "Harry wasn't too fond of my shirt," I inform her, watching as she furrows her eyebrows, trying to conclude what I insinuate.
"Why didn't you change—oh!" She trails off, catching onto my drift, "Elise!" She chuckles, "that explains why he was quite cheerful this morning." She comments, eyeing the blossoms on my desk. "He was here?" I challenge, unsure of why he came to my office or how he managed to have time, peculiarly considering I couldn't make it here on time. Addi nods, gesturing towards the twenty-four red roses, a stunning bouquet paired perfectly with twelve Fancy Strawberries! I grasp the box of strawberries that look like mouthwatering creations. Each succulent strawberry is dipped and covered with nuts, chocolate chips and additional drizzle.
A heavenly combination of flavours. My mouth waters as my eyes continue to gawk at them.
"May I ask, why you have two handsome men bringing you flowers?" She implores and I take my attention away from Harry's bouquet and strawberries.
I take in a deep breath and lean over and grasp the small note on the twelve pink roses. "Hope you're considering my offer, you'll be greatly appreciated. Enjoy the dash of colour in your bland office. Logan Meyer. P.S the views from your office here are to die for." I read out full-toned, rolling my eyes as I throw the small card to my desk. I look over at Addi and she purses her lips, waiting for clarification. "He's just a guy wanting me to join his business," I remark,
"Just a guy? He's Logan Meyer!" She punctuates his name, making sure I grasp the concept of who he is.
"Addi, I'm aware," I confirm with a nod, unsure of what the big deal is. He's a firm businessman who is blatantly very prosperous and figured at an awful lot of money, but that doesn't mean anything.
After all, Harry is in the same boat as him, worth just as much or close to the same.
"Damn, I wish he'd offer me a job." She breathes a sigh, appreciating the flowers on my desk. I cross my arms as I unblinking stare at her.
"I can possibly arrange that," I remark, having a concept to pitch her to Logan, she's alluring, witty, intelligent, and would perhaps take pleasure in fetching his coffee more than what I would.
"You cannot turn down his offer, I don't know the figures but I know they'd be high." She shakes her head, beginning to probe me for more information.
"Addi, why do I need his money? I'm content working here and Harry is worth just as much as Meyer." I lower my voice, making sure the conversation is kept just between the two of us. I much prefer not to have the whole office staff knowing that Harry is tremendously successful. Addi fetches a sigh, beginning to understand very well my point,
"well, send Meyer my way. I have a wedding to pay. I will talk to you later. Enjoy your strawberries and flowers." She gestures towards my darling gifts, exiting my office and closing the door.
In the private time, I lean over and clasp the note on Harry's roses.
"Just because you're late and this morning was… worth it. My love, don't make a habit of tardiness. Also because my bouquet is bigger and better than his. ;) xxx" I chuckle to myself at his shameless written declaration, shaking my head at his fearless comment.
Someone was perhaps jealous when he saw the flowers from Logan; I can only assume Harry wanted to one up Meyer, predominance once again being his strong suit. I decide not to text Harry a polite thank you or even a bodacious message, deciding to keep him waiting for a little bit.
For a moment I contemplate leaving a message for Logan Meyer, but I'm not quite sure what I could possibly say to the man. "Thank you for the flowers, but I'm still not interested." Doesn't precisely scream polite and well-worth anyone's time. I gingerly push the bouquets to the side, leaving the strawberries to stay close to me while I begin my work, doing my best to keep my mind off of Logan Meyer and his £500,000 offer that would, without doubt, spark interest with my Father. He wants me high up in the world of business and God knows what else, in fact, he's attempted persuading me to invest in shares and what not, but I tend to disregard his sentiments. Shares are my Fathers things, not mine, as are they are Harry's, too.
I'm disrupted from my composition by my phone sounding, a text message coming through.
———
"Any new additions to your office, Elise? I have meetings most the day, probably won't be home tonight, love you X CEO. Styles.& Co -Harry"
"If you consider roses and strawberries new additions, yes. They're enchanting. You jealous of the pink ones? ;) Good luck with your meetings, love you too."
"Me? Jealous? No. The twat got you roses in the colour you most dislike, pink. I simply thought you needed red roses and strawberries after such performances last night and this mornin' ;) CEO. Styles.& Co -Harry"
"Mhm... you made me late this morning."
"I did no such thing. You brought it on yourself. Heading to my meetings. X CEO. Styles.& Co -Harry"
———
I warrant Harry to get back to his job, getting back to my own as I carry on throughout my day, doing my very best not to ponder about major business advances that consist of £500,000. I don't know what I'd even do as his assistant beside fetch him his day-to-day coffee order and pursues him around like a bloody lost puppy.
Perhaps if he promised me a more suitable position, I would consider his proposition more carefully.
Addi stealthily steps into my office, distracting me from my thoughts and my work, yet again. "It's eight at night, why are you here?" She gently questions, and I take the time to pay attention how there aren't many lights illuminated in the hallway and how I haven't had anyone enter my office for quite a while.
"I didn't realise how late it was." I yawn, my stomach grumbling since I have neglected it while my mind has been all over the place, contemplating Meyer and his overture, and attempting to get the pile of work on my desk finished before I leave tonight.
"Is Harry working late?" Addi examines as she gaits closer to my desk, I give her nod, recollecting how he won't be returning home tonight. I'll have a king bed all to myself, something I unconditionally dread.
"So." Addie pushes part of her hair to rest on her shoulder, her eyes narrowing on me, I look up at her, nodding for her to proceed whatever it is she's trying to pursue.
"When are you getting married?" She interrogates, my heart at once fluttering as the idea of marriage pops into my head. I give her a hushed chuckle, shaking my head, disapprovingly.
"Not for a while." I persist, unsure of what prompted her question. Marriage revolves primarily around Harry's schedule.
He has everything planned out with his business and until such time that everything is completed according to his supervised scheduling, him and I will not be getting married. If it isn't on his schedule, it isn't happening— at least not for now, anyway.
"Why? You two have been dating forever." She exaggerates, acting as if we have been dating our entire lives. I shrug, to be honest, Harry and I haven't exchanged words on marriage, it's never come up.
We're content with how we are in our relationship.
We've had our ups and downs and marriage just hasn't been something we've ever come across discussing.
"We haven't been together forever." I roll my eyes at her dramatisation, but she shakes her head, being in disagreement with my comment.
"How long, isn't it six years ?" She interrogates, making me heavily sigh. "Four years, nearly five, but that's not forever." I hold up a finger to dispute her comments.
We are coming up to five years, which denotes four long years that haven't always been exceptional and loving. He wasn't at all times been a thriving businessman worth millions, just like we didn't always live in a darling, mansion-like home. Where we both are now isn't how we were when we first met.
I was nineteen and he was just shy of turning twenty-one, much further ahead in academics and farther into starting off his own world away from university and shitty jobs to help him get through.
*** *** The automatic lights flicker on as I pace the floor of Harry's office before promptly pushing on his office door.
His eyes automatically leave his laptop to gaze at me, "What's the matter, Elise?" He consults in an exhausted voice, his eyes moving waveringly back to his laptop, his hand writing down god knows what on his notepad.
"It's late." I remind him, beginning to wonder if he even keeps track of time; Harry creates the illusion that he just sits at his desk, lost in his own world where time is non-existent.
"Elise, I gave you the keys on the condition you don't annoy me while I'm trying to fucking work." He sighs, seeming to be entirely lost in his own cogitations.
"I have a lot to do, so if nothing is wrong, please go home." He adds, continuing to scribble something down while being rather harsh with his tone of voice.
He didn't even come home last night, which is fine — Harry gave me a heads up that he wouldn't get home, but he should be taking a bit of a break, after all its New Year's Eve tomorrow.
What could he possibly have to do on the eve of New Year's Eve? Undoubtedly clients and business can wait until the new year to take his full dedication. "Harry, you need—" I'm expeditiously cut off by Harry's fatigued voice,
"Don't tell me I need a break. I need to get this client's portfolio." He shakes his head as I take a seat in the leather chair across from him.
"Let me help." I advance, but he declines my proposal, beginning to look back at his laptop while silence fills the air. Perhaps things would get done more hastily if he'd allow me to assist. "It's New Year's Eve tomorrow, please tell me you're not working." I initiate, hoping that he plans on taking the time off to ring in the new year with me.
Last year he spent the new year sleeping because he was to such an extent exhausted. I ended up with a bottle of wine watching the television broadcasting the animal firework displays on River Thames while the iconic bongs of Big Ben sounded at midnight.
"Elise! I don't have time for this." He raises his voice, running his fingers through his hair, "fuck, I'm sorry." He shakes his head, frustrated and fatigued as he hits his hand against the desk. "I can't take this out on you." He groans, apologising for his tone of voice.
I look at him, unsure of what to say to him that'll calm him down. Nothing I do or say will release his stress. It isn't like him to raise his voice with me too much, he usually keeps himself composed. "Can we do something for New Year's Eve?" I gently ask, batting my eyes in hope he gives me.
Hopefully, it'll pull him away from work long enough to relax him. Workaholic boyfriend is only a turn on when he's not a grumpy ass ninety percent of the time.
"You want to do something?" He raises a brow, his eyes gleaming like he has an aspiration of some sort.
I give him a nod. He averts his eyes towards his watch before glancing back at me. He distinctly has some sort of precipitated concept that I may or may not approve of. "Alright, your passport is still valid, right?" He interrogates out of nowhere and I again confirm with a nod, "good, you're going to need it." He advises me, only baffling me as to what he's launching forth.
I stay appeased, unsure of what he's deliberating, what does my passport have to do with anything? "What do you have planned?" I quaintly request, taking note as his hand continues to scribble things down.
He lets out a sigh, putting his pen down, his eyes meeting mine. "You ever been to French Polynesia?" He examines, leaning back in his leather chair, stretching his back. I shake my head. "Well, now you're going." He informs me sigh a small smile, his eyes going back to his laptop as he types away, leaving me a little perplexed.
"Are we going to Tahiti?" I curiously inquire, a smile coming to my face as the careful consideration of subsiding on a beach satisfies me.
Being on a beach with a tropical alcoholic beverage in my hand sounds unconditionally amazing. "Close, north-west of Tahiti. Bora Bora." He informs me, my mind already coming to with a list of entertaining activities we can participate in.
How glorious it will be to ultimately be on a shore, to get away from the freezing cold weather of London, sit on the warm sand with a cocktail in one hand, a book in the other, while the sun beams down on my soon to be sun-kissed skin.
But, what made Harry abruptly alter his mind and unexpectedly want to take a voyage to a tropical island?
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aurelia-b-careless · 7 years
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Chapter 2 - Interrogated by a Police Officer
“Was that the last thing you remember, before you woke up?” The police officer asked. I wished at that moment that I could at least see her stats.
“Exactly.”
You probably wonder, what happened afterwards. After her bite, I obviously lost consciousness. She sucked most of my blood out of me, probably intending to kill me. I wasn’t quite sure how I survived. Apparently, a merchant found my pale near-dead body on his way to the city. I first got into something like a hospital where they actually gave me blood transfusions. After few hours, it was evening, I woke up and was welcomed by the police officer. She didn’t waste any time and directly asked me about the attack.
“How do you know I was attacked?” I asked.
“It’s obvious. Those bite marks are probably glowing in the dark.” She pointed at my arm. “Are those a vampire’s or maybe … a succubus?”
“It was a succubus … yeah.” I still haven’t fully recovered so my brain wasn’t working as it has before.
“Well I guess you simply had bad luck. Succubi attacks are quite rare nowadays, but you were outside of the town with no witnesses around. Was there anything suspicious about her?”
“How did you know it’s a she? Were there more attacks recently?”
“Oh, you really know nothing … Succubi are always women. The male ones are called Incubus.”
“Oh…” I blushed.
“Now I wonder … how where you even able to distinguish?”
My brain sent alerts as I was not sure how to explain it. Are Grimoire’s even everyday things or was I special because I am from another world?
“Well she was … kinda hot … and, um she sucked my blood. That is what Succubi do, am I right?”
“I guess …” She looked through the window. It was already getting dark and thus she proposed, “Are you able to walk again? It’s getting dark outside and, well, the food here isn’t the best. What about going to the police office? At least we have cookies and coffee.”
And that’s how I ended up here. I thought she might like me, until I told her about being from another world, which of course she wouldn’t believe.
The office was only a two-minute walk from the hospital. I couldn’t see much of the city, but at least I could tell it was big.
After handing me a cup, she continued her interrogation. It felt as if being in this building gave her strength. At least I thought so. Her presence was … quite intimidating.
“So, tell me, what did she look like?”
I tried to recall every single detail which wasn’t easy since I only saw her a brief second. Actually, I wasn’t very helpful. I described her as a “marvelous beauty” and “her lips were shining even though there was no light they could reflect” and, yeah, you could totally tell I still had a boner after this meeting although my blood pressure has been way under the norm for half the day.
“That wasn’t very helpful.”
Just as I said …
“Is there anything else you’d like to tell me? If not, we should just stop for today.”
“Actually … there is. She stole my Grimoire.” I finally decided to tell it. Who knew what power it had, even more, if it was maybe the only in the entire world?
“Your what?!” She stood up, her hands pressed against the table and I was able to see her veins.
“My Grim…”
“Why didn’t you say so before?! That’ll make it a lot easier to track down our enemy!”
“Your … enemy?” She seemed kind of … overexcited, talking that loudly.
“Actually” She calmed down, “I’m probably not allowed to say. But your Grimoire is not the only one, that has been stolen.”
So, they do exist.
“Lately there have been several thefts around the city, each involving a Grimoire being stolen. The thieves never got caught. And if, the witnesses were always found dead.”
“And how did I actually help?” I asked reluctantly.
“You know, there aren’t lots of Succubi living in this city.”
In that exact moment, a door opened an in came a young adult, maybe around the age of 20 came in. His hair was bright and small signs of a beard were visible. The most distinctive feature though, was the shape of his ears. They were pointy, yet small.
An elf maybe?
“Ebony Dark’ness Dementia wishes to see you, Shelly.”
“It’s her!” We both shouted at the same time, to which Shelly, which apparently was her name gave me an irritated glance.
“Tell her to wait a minute, Trevor.”
“Of course.” Trevor left and closed the door.
“This is my now prime suspect. You have to hide!”
“But…”
“I’ll explain to you later, she might recognize you. Go, hide yourself in the kitchen, I’ll keep her away from there.”
The kitchen was a small room adjacent to the lounge, where we were sitting until now. I hurried into the next room, and closed the door behind me. I peeked through the keyhole. I could hear and see Shelly opening the door and a few seconds later I heard high heels walking into the lounge.
“I’m sorry for stealing your time this late.”
“No, it’s okay. As long as you are here to report something?”
“Not exactly. I’m here because of the recent … thefts.”
“You mean the Grimoires?”
“Exactly. I’m quite concerned regarding my own collection. Some of them are mine, but mostly they were collected by all my ancestors. You could possibly backtrack them to the beginning of our era.”
“Okay, so how can I help you?”
“I need some information. It would be easier to put up some … security measures, if I would at least know, what kind of … threat I’m facing.”
If you tell her how far your investigations have gone, you would be pretty dumb, Shelly.
“Sorry, that’s classified.”
“Is it?”
“Yes, I’m not allowed to tell you without facing the threat of being punished, if this comes out.”
“But you are … the police officer.”
“And I am not the highest instance being responsible for catching and especially not for judging criminals.” Her voice got unexpectedly fierce. It was an interesting change to her calm self, especially speaking in front of this royal looking person. “That’s all I have to say.”
I could hear footsteps and then a closing door. I looked through the keyhole again, and opened the door, after making sure, she was gone.
“Aster, go after her.” I could hear Shelly say.
“As you wish.” A man suddenly appeared and vanished after saying those words.
“She was the one attacking me.”
“She was here to sound us out.” Shelly said.
“That’s what I also figured.”
“You don’t seem that dumb. Just a bit … unworldly.”
Well that’s because … nah, forget it.
“You also started talking … like her.” I noticed. “It’s freaking me ... out”
“You mean with those weird breaks in her sentences? Yeah, I also noticed that. I think she’s trying to build up tension. It’s weird.”
After this little conversation, there was an awkward kind of silence.
“I think it’s the best for you, if you sleep here tonight.” She broke the silence.
“That’s good, because I don’t have anywhere to stay!”
“Until this case is solved you have to stay close by my side.”
“What?”
“You don’t have any knowledge of how to use magic, have you?” She gave me a gloomy expression.
“Magic?” The Grimoire had set my profession as Mage, but without it I doubted I was able to use any of it.
“So, you don’t even know what Magic is?”
“I know what magic is! I just can’t use it …”
“So, you really are from another world, are you…” She muttered to herself. “But that’s just one more reason to have you under custody. Hear me up, assuming Miss Dementia is the culprit, she will probably come to kill you, if she realizes, she hasn’t killed you, since you are our only living witness. And if you aren’t even able to use magic, you’ll die in no time.
With a stern look she her face came closer to mine, as she said this.
“But for now, we should probably rest.” She said, stretching herself. “This day was tiring and I can’t wait to catch some sleep. I’m also going to sleep at the office. I will protect you, no matter what.”
“Thank you, Shelly.”
“That’s my job. Now come with me. I show you a place to rest.”
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