#and 2. after all his shit was gone it looked like a tornado cut through the living room because it was SO fucking dirty

[3platoon]

stupid vent post ab my ex roommate don't feel bad about scrolling past

throwback to when that ex roommate lied to his parents and said we kicked him out when literally one of the things i'm the most mad about is that i STOPPED my grandma from kicking him out genuinely 4 distinct separate times because i felt bad for him bc he made himself homeless :/

but he turned right around to his discord servers and said he was "leaving without saying anything first 😎" (quoted) as if it was cool that he left without a word to get a haircut at a friends house during the pandemic (which he admitted to??? to me????) and confirm the moving situation with them at the same time like

how fucking stupid can you be

#and then when he came to get his shit he 1. tried to let the friend inside to help him #uhhh? no? i'm not gonna let you expose my family more than you already have you fucking idiot #and 2. after all his shit was gone it looked like a tornado cut through the living room because it was SO fucking dirty #like i know he noticed #i don't know if he was triumphant about it or what but jesus christ #what a fucking nightmare #and all of that was nothing compared to what he put me and my family through those four or five months. #freak show. #i genuinely consider the last few months since he left like recovery periods #because i'm still like trying to cope with it and get over all of it #vent tw #negative #covid-19 #coronavirus #personal #ok to rb #idk why you would but christ i know he's still online and posting and telling his friends what an abuser i was or whatever #actually there were a few times when he was being actually delusional like my mom #:/ #ask to tag #and throughout all of this he was insulting me and claiming i was manipulative gaslighting girl boss or what the fuck ever #🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡

[axwalker]

Tears in Heaven 2: Falling

Synopsis: Alexis O’Brien is about to get married but memories of her old life are coming back to haunt her.

MASTERLIST

Pairings: Liam x MC Drake x MC (TRR)

Warnings:  

NO ONE UNDER 18 should read this story. This is an 18+ blog. This story will deal with very dark subjects such as death, severe depression and suicide attempt (among others) if you’re triggered by any of those issues, PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS STORY

A/N: The story will go back and forth between three different periods of time (2009 / 2015 / 2019) 

A/N: In most European countries the legal age to drink is 18, as Cordonia is clearly in Europe, I ‘ll use the same legal age. 

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Word count: 4,600

Songs inspiration: Tears in Heaven by Eric Clapton

THANKS TO:  To  my awesome beta read @pedudley​

And to the beautiful  @burnsoslow​   who beta read the whole scene with Liam. 

I love you both!!

Tagging: 

@mskaneko​ @pedudley​ @burnsoslow​ @pug-bitch​ @lauzales​ @yukinagato2012​ @kingliam2019​ @texaskitten30​ @loveellamae​ @nomadics-stuff​ @flutistbyday2020​ @mrsdrakewalkerblog​ @ladyangel70​ @kimmiedoo5​ @debramcg1106​ @ao719​ @msjr0119​ @ac27dj​  @forthebrokenheartedthings-blog​ 

JUNE 2015

Nine months. Nine months since the ‘accident’. That was how her friends called it: ‘An accident’. The word infuriated her. It implied something so avoidable, something so small and simple. A finger caught in a door, a bad fall, a glass of whiskey spilled on the table. He didn’t have a broken leg, or a soared finger, he was dead. He was never going to come back again, his laughter vanished, his chocolates eyes gone, forever.

She would love to know how her friends called what had happened three months after his death. The day she had lost the last shred of hope she had left.

Every day she repeated the same routine, she woke up, drank, and stayed in bed looking through the window. Some days when the alcohol had numbed her enough, she was able to go through her albums and live in her memories. But most days, she couldn’t bear to see their happy faces, the joyful moments, so she just drank and cried.

Liam, Olivia and Max came every day to check up on her. Sometimes together, sometimes separate. They all had different methods to bring her back to life. None of them worked but they kept trying anyway.

Liam was caring and protective, he tried to make her eat or drink something else besides alcohol. Sometimes he tried to talk some sense into her, others he simply read to her.

Olivia’s approach was more direct, she arrived at the house like a tornado, cleaning the mess and throwing all the wine bottles and pizza boxes in the garbage, disgusted. She scolded her in the hope to see her strong friend fight back, but Alexis had gave up, nothing that Oliva said made her react.

Maxwell was kind and compassionate. He sat with her in silence, rubbing her back or crying with her. He only wanted to make her feel that she wasn’t alone. That he would be there when she was ready.

She knew that deep down she loved them, or that she had loved them once, but there was nothing left anymore for anyone else.

One morning, after yet another sleepless night, Alexis looked at her reflection in the mirror. She barely recognized herself. She touched her face, trying to remember how she looked like only nine months before. Her eyes drifted to the bottle of sleeping pills next to her toothbrush. Her decision was taken. He had died. He had left her. She had no reason to live anymore. That night, when her friends were gone, she would write some good-bye letters and she’ll go to sleep to never wake up again.

Ironically, that was the first day since it all happened that she had something to look forward to.  After Savanah’s birthday, her life had stopped anyway, she was merely finishing the job.

August 2009

Maxwell and Olivia were having coffee after class while they waited for Alexis. When she arrived thirty minutes later, Max frowned, she looked like she wanted to bite someone’s head off.

Instead of greeting them, she threw her bag on the table, almost spilling Olivia’s coffee on her lap.

Olivia growled. “Careful there Alexis! This is Balmain.”

Maxwell rolled his eyes. “I’m sure that you meant to ask Lexie if everything was ok.”

Olivia snorted. “No, I meant to keep my very expensive outfit safe. Thank you very much.” She brushed her hand over her skirt making sure it was still spotless. “but yes tell us what happened to put you in such a dark mood, Alexis.”

“I can’t have coffee with you. Frickin Neville wants me to work tonight. Argh! I had the day off.”

Max looked at his best friend worried “Do you think that he’ll try something like the other night?”

“After all the self-defense classes Olivia has given me? I’d like to see him try” She took one French fry from Maxwell’s plate.

“So? What’s the problem?  More hours mean more money, right?” He seemed confused “You’re always looking for extra hours.”

Olivia wasn’t fooled, she squinted at her friend. “She has a date with Walker.”

Maxwell squeaked. “Blossom!! You have seen him every day since you met him four days ago!”

“I know, Max. I can’t even explain it. He’ like… a drug” She ran her fingers through her head trying to hide her giddiness. “When he kisses me. I can’t even think or…”

Maxwell knew Drake Walker since they were kids, and he was well aware of his reputation. “What did you do last night?”

“We just walked all night, I waited until my father and Cindy were in their room, sneaked out and took him to the cove”

“The one you haven’t even show me?” Max looked hurt.

“I’ll take you next time Max, I swear” She hugged him. “Anyway, we just walked and talked until dawn.” She said leaving out that they had kissed senseless all over the beach.

Olivia feigned to yawn. “Can you please get to the part where you two fuck, all of this is very sweet but is giving me diabetes.”

A crimson blush spread all upon her cheeks. “We actually haven’t done it yet.”

Maxwell almost spilled his coffee. “What? Drake Walker? According to my brother, he’s a man-whore!”

Alexis shrugged. “We have kissed, a lot, but nothing else.”

Olivia rolled her eyes. “Alexis for Christ sake! Don’t be such a fucking prude!”

Alexis threw her hands in the air “I’m not! I don’t know what he’s waiting for.” She checked her watch “Fuck! I’ll be late!”

Maxwell and Olivia exchanged an amused look. “When had you been on time before?”

She flipped them off and ran to catch the bus.

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

It was a calm, summer night so the college pub where she worked wasn’t busy, only two tables and some guys hanging out in the bar with Dany, her coworker.

She checked her phone for the third time that night and sighed disappointed, he hadn’t answer to her text cancelling their date.

Lost in her thoughts, she barely heard the tinkling of the bell hanging above the front door. When she finally turned her head, she saw Drake standing next to it, looking at her.

Her heart immediately skipped a beat. “Hi, stranger. What are you doing here?”

He cut the distance between them in two steps, took her in his arms and kissed her. “I’ve missed that.”

She played with the collar of his shirt, inebriated by the smell of sandalwood. “Me too, Drake.”

If he was completely honest, not only he had missed her, but he had been incapable of thinking about anything else all day, and at that moment seeing her so beautiful, with her bright eyes looking so intently at him, he was about to melt. He kissed her again.

“I can’t go out tonight, though. I have to close the place.” She said softly still fluttered by his kiss.

He didn’t want to come out to strong but decided to be honest anyway. “I did get your text, Lex, I just don’t like the idea of you walking at night and taking the bus alone so late.”

She shrugged, she was used to it. “I’ve been doing it the whole year, Drake. I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can, just let me help you a little.” He brushed her face with his fingers. “I can come get you when you work late, and we can spend more time together.”

She looked at him touched, besides Max who gave her a ride whenever he could, no one else cared how she got back after a nightshift.  “Thank you.”

“Waitress!”

“Shit! I have to work. Wait for me at the bar, Daniel is actually pretty funny.” She winked. “and he knows his whiskey.”

She hurried to the table that was calling her. A group of college girls desperate to use their new ID’s. The rest of the night was calm, and Alexis could spare some moments to talk and laugh with Drake while he waited for her.

At one o’clock, they said good-bye to the last clients, Daniel headed home and Drake and Alexis stayed to close the bar.

“So, what do you want me to do?”

She leaned against the counter smiling shamelessly. “Really? You’re going to help me for free?”

He smirked trapping her with his arms against the counter “Who told you it was for free?” he leaned against her and softly kissed her lips. He inhaled her perfume enjoying her soft moans when his kiss became deeper and his fingers wandered all over her hips. “Fuck, you’re so sexy, Alexis”

The phone rang three times until they were able to break contact. She picked up and talked to her boss. When she hung up, they spend the next hour cleaning and sweeping the bar until it was ready to close.

She checked her watch. “I have to be home at three. My father knows at what time I close the bar, and it usually takes me more than an hour to get to the house.”

Drake arched his eyebrows. “So, he doesn’t come to pick you up, but you have a curfew?”

She nodded. “That’s pretty much it. He has a lot of ideas of what a well-behaved young lady can and cannot do.”

Drake was starting to strongly dislike the man.  “Well, we closed the bar way faster.” He encircled her with his arms. “and I’ll take you back in the jeep, so we have one hour for ourselves.” He upped her chin to him and kissed her cheek. “Aren’t you hungry?”

She was starving but it was past midnight, she would eat a bowl of cereal at her house. “Yes, but everything is closed.”

He gave her a conspiratorial look “This classy joint has a kitchen, right?”

She smiled. “Yes”

He offered her his arm. “Well, let’s cook something then.”

The night before, during their walk, she had told him she used to love Mac & Cheese when she was a little girl, so he looked for the ingredients in the pantry.

“Can I help you there, Walker?”

He nodded his head towards a chair. “You were working all night, O’Brien, it’s your turn to sit.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “O’Brien?”

“Well, you haven’t stop calling me Walker since I told you my last name the other night, turnabout’s a fair play.” He winked playfully.

Alexis watched him cook for her. They had spent the last four days getting to know each other, and she had loved every minute of it. She loved how attentive he was, how he seemed to remember every little thing she said. She loved that he walked around looking brooding and angry, but he was the kindest person she had never met. She loved how protected she felt with him, like never before.  

He loved animals, and great books but only liked boring music, he listened too much classic rock, and definitely needed more Latin songs in his playlist. His taste in movies was impeccable though, fan of Harry Potter and Tarantino.

Her mind drifted to the previous night, she shivered thinking about it, about the way he kissed her, desperate, passionate, wild but always a little gentle, she felt like he could read her mind and sensed exactly what she needed better than herself.  

He put two plates with Mac & Cheese in front of her and she clapped happy. “Drake! Mac & cheese! I love it.”

He had never met someone so full of life before, she seemed to enjoy every single minute of her life. He shrugged trying not to think how much he loved that about her. “It’s only pasta, O’Brien.”

“Well, I love it.” She placed her hand over his and he locked his gaze with hers before he leaned to kiss her.

The talked about their lives while they ate. Drake told her about his childhood with Bastien and Savanah. Bastien worked for Constantine, the Duke of Valtoria, one of the most powerful men in the country, and a personal friend of King Godfrey. He worked at their estate all the time, so Drake had practically grown up with Leo and Liam Rhys. Alexis already knew that his father had died protecting the duke and that his mother had left when he was barely twelve years old. She hated the woman.

“I’m sorry she left, Drake.”

“I’m not. She was never a good mother for me or Savvie. Bastien is the only parent I have now.”

She squeezed his hand. He changed the subject, the less he talked about Bianca Walker, the best.

They finished the rest of their meal in silence, both deep in thought. He looked at her and couldn’t help but admire the strength she irradiated, a sort of light she wasn’t even aware she had in her. He had never opened himself so deeply to someone else, not even Liam. If he was honest, she scared him to death, she held too much power over him, he cared for her too much already but seemed incapable to stay away. She woke in him so many…things in such a short amount of time, that it made him feel overwhelmed.

She got up and reached for his plate, but he stood up and pulled it away from her reach. “I'll wash the dishes… you worked all night.”

“And you cooked.” She grinned at him. “we’ll do them together.”

The cleaned the kitchen playing and laughing with each other.

“It’s late now, I should take you home.” Drake sounded disappointed.

She wiggled her brows giving him a mischievous smile. “I have another idea, come on.” She grabbed two tumblers from the kitchen and took his hand guiding him to the cellar under the kitchen.

“Where are we exactly, Lexie?”

“In Walker’s Paradise.” She laughed pointing at all the Whiskey bottles on the floor.

“Isn’t this going to get you in trouble?”

Alexis took a bottle from one of the cabinets and opened it, then she poured the amber liquid into the tumblers.

Drake smiled shaking his head. “You really like trouble, hein? Breaking the rules, out after curfew, all that”

She looped her arms around his neck. “Maybe you make me want to break them.”

He grinned down at her and kissed her. “You’re going to make me blush, O’Brien.”

She chuckled. “That I would love to see.”

They sat on the floor with their backs against the wall, Drake pulled her against him with his arm around shoulders.

He took a sip from his glass. “It’s not bad.”

“I know.” She took a big gulp as well.

Drake looked at her questioningly. “I spilled my guts about my family earlier, but you never talk about yours.”

She fiddled with one of the many bracelets she was wearing. “My father is very religious, very strict but that didn’t stop him from leaving my mom for Cindy. He has a lot of rules and ideas about how I’m supposed to live my life.” She gave a half shrug. “I’m used to it; I just need to get through college and I’m out of there.”

“I may be intrusive here Lex, but why do you need to work? You live in one of the best neighborhoods in Cordonia. I mean, you live next to the Beaumont.”

“Well, first, because my father has a lot of debts. Cindy, his wife, is obsessed to be part of Cordonia’s high society, so she wants to live in the best neighborhood and she only buys designer clothes, or when she can’t its replicas. And second, because my father hates my major, he thinks I’ll end up being a starving writer.” She laughed. “He’s probably right, but I don’t care.”

He shook his head taking her chin with his fingers. “You’ll be whatever you want to be, O’Brien.” He fixed his piercing eyes on hers. “You’re brave and passionate and I have no doubt you will get to be a fantastic writer.”

She blushed. “Thank you.”

She looked adorable when she blushed. He cleared his throat. “How about a toast, Lexie.”

“What’re we toasting to?”

“To the moments in between.” He grinned.

She looked puzzled. “Huh?”

“All the nobles or the people like Cindy or my mother think about are the big events, the banquets, the press events, the grand balls. They don’t even realize that the moments that matter the most are the ones they’re missing. Moments like right now, just the two of us and some cheap whiskey. The ones that really mean something.” He brushed her lips with his thumb. “At least they mean something for me, anyway.”

She rubbed his cheek with the back of her hand “To me too, Drake. More than you can imagine.” She raised her glass. “For the moments in between.”

He grinned. “For the moments in between.”

They both gulped down their glasses. She moved to lay on the floor with her head in his lap. He racked his fingers through her hair, looking down at her eyes, and thinking how much he was enjoying that moment, having her like that, her head casually on his lap.

He lowered his head and crashed his lips with hers, she was still holding her glass so he grabbed it and casually put it next to them, as he laid over her, kissing her more, moving his mouth from her soft lips to her chin, and then lower to her neck. He smelled her perfume and got lost on her. Alexis could barely think, he seemed to be everywhere around her, she felt his warm breath and his teeth softly biting her neck and felt like she was losing all control.

He stopped himself, he wasn’t going to do it there. She was a goddess, she deserved much, much more than a dirty cellar.

“What’s the matter Drake?”

He sat against the wall again but this time he scooped her in his arms and sat her in his lap, she looped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his chest, still trying to recover her breath.

“I can’t believe I’m the one saying this, O’Brien, but we should wait to be in a better place to do this”

He looked at her, she was four years younger than him. She seemed almost innocent one second and the next one her eyes were black, charged with lust. He cupped her face “Can I ask you something, Lexie? Something personal?” He asked not sure how to address the subject.

She blushed a deep shade of scarlet, guessing exactly what he wanted to know. “If you want to know if I’m a virgin, I’m not. I had a boyfriend the last year of high school.”

He tried to hide the fact that he was jealous of a guy she had dated more than one year ago. “Did you love him?”

“I used to believe that, but” She stopped in her tracks not knowing how to continue. “I don’t know anymore. We had a lot of fun. Everything was very nice.”

He smirked “Nice?”

She stood up angrily leaning her back against the wall. “Yes, nice. Is there a problem with nice, Walker?”

He stood up and pressed her against the wall, roaming her back with his hands, burying his head on her hair, so she’d feel his breath warm, his hoarse voice in her ear “Love is burning, Alexis.” He softly nipped her earlobe as he pressed her even more. She gasped as a million goosebumps appear all over her arms. “Love is consuming.” He kissed the spot between her ear and her neck, and she shivered, the urge for him almost painful. “Love is messy and desperate.” He buried his head even more kissing the nape of her neck “Love is not nice.” He crashed his mouth with her lips again. She was addictive.

JUNE 2015 

Alexis let herself get lost in her memory. That had been the day where she had fallen in love with him. Only five days after meeting him. Hearing his ideas, his views about the world. Seeing him taking care of her, making her feel so deeply safe. And getting lost in him, in his lips, his low voice, in the sandalwood. In the passion they shared for each other. Before closing her eyes and joining him for good, that was the image she’ll take with her. The image of the day she had lost her soul to Drake Walker.

APRIL 2019

Alexis’s eyes got lost in the clouds. She had always loved to fly, especially at that moment where the plane was so high, that the clouds were beneath them and the sun cast its light on them. She didn’t believe in anything, not anymore, but there in the heights, in the middle of the sky, she wondered, if maybe there was an afterlife, if maybe someday she would see him again.

Five years had passed, but the wound was still there, raw and ready to hurt, ready to pull her back to the abyss. She turned to look at Liam sleeping beside her. Now she had someone to fight for.

He had fallen asleep as soon as the plane had left the ground. He had to be exhausted; he worked really hard at making Valtoria the most productive duchy in Cordonia, and yet he managed to always be there for her when she needed him.

She was aware that the only reason he had left in the middle of the negotiations with the biggest export American company was because of her. Because of the date that was coming to haunt her. A warm feeling spread through her chest at the thought of all the things Liam had done for her. She took his hand between hers, careful not to wake him up.

Paris was beautiful in April. Alexis admired the blossoming trees and the warmth, spring light bathing the majestic buildings while they walked hand in hand.

Liam knew that the next weeks were going to get difficult, especially at the beginning of the next month, his birthday, so he wanted to distract her as much as he could, showing her his favorite city. He wasn’t naïve; he knew nothing he did was going to erase that day, but he was going to try and do anything in his power to bring her some joy. After all, they had been friends for nine years and together for almost two; he thought he knew her well enough to know what could make her happy.  

“What would you think if I took you for some macarons?”

She grinned. “I love Ladurée.”

He shook his head, smiling. “See, everyone thinks the best French macarons are those from Chez Ladurée, but they’re the most famous ones. The best ones are the ones prepared by the chef Pierre Hermé.”

“Lead the way then.” She took his arm and they walked together through the Parisian streets. Every now and then, Liam would show her a small boutique or a gallery that he knew she’d enjoy. They passed the Orsay Museum and the Louvre, and he promised her they would go the next day. Alexis was dying to see the impressionist collection. When they crossed the Pont-Saint Michel, he took her to the Quai de Tournelle, the little quay in Paris where dozens of second-hand booksellers sold their finds at small prizes.

Alexis beamed, truly happy for the first time in days. “Li, this is perfect; I can’t imagine the thousands of first editions or old books that are hiding in here.”

His heart swelled, seeing her smiling. “I knew you would like it, my love.”

She stepped up on her tiptoes and kissed him. “I love it.”

After they walked for a while, they finally arrived at the Teahouse, and Alexis had to admit that they were the best macarons she had ever eaten.

“What now, Mr. Frenchman?”

He cupped her face and kissed her. “I have a surprise for you. Just wait here.”

He left her for a moment to prepare his surprise. When he came back a few minutes later, he spotted her leaning against a stone railing overlooking the Seine River. Her expression was clouded, but when she saw him approach her, she broke into a smile.

He cut the distance between them and wrapped her in a tight embrace. She rested her head on his shoulder.

“Are you all right, darling?  He smiled down at her.

“Better now that you’re here, but I can’t stop thinking about everything.”

“I know, Alexis. I’m here now.” He took her hand, joining her at the railing. They spent a long moment holding hands, gazing across the river.

“It’s so quiet,” Alexis said, placing her hair behind her ear “It feels like the whole city is sleeping, like we’re the last humans on earth.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

She shook her head. “No, a little bit of peace is very welcomed.”

“I’m very glad you think so, love. Come here.”

He led her further along the bridge, where she saw a basket sitting on the paving stones. He pulled a small blanket from the basket and spread it out before her.

He saw her astonished expression, so he explained. “I know picnics are not my favorite activity, but I knew you were going to like it. Besides, you’re the one telling me I should be more adventurous.”

She laughed. “I don’t know if a picnic in Paris counts as an adventure, but ...” She caressed his cheek. “You’re right, I love it.”

They settled down on the blanket as he uncorked an expensive bottle of Chateau Margaux, and Alexis pulled some cheeses, bread, and a couple of glasses out of the basket.

“I want to make a toast for us, Lex-“ He cleared his throat. “Alexis, sorry. I forgot.”

Her heart skipped a beat at the mention of her old nickname. “It’s fine, Li. Don’t worry. I just hate to hear it” He took her chin in his fingers and kissed her.

“I know, love. Let’s forget about it. I wanted to toast to us, to our life together”

She raised her glass.

“Thank you for everything.” She looked in his eyes. “I mean everything, Liam. The sacrifice you’re going to make for me.” Her eyes watered. “I can’t believe it.”

He placed his hand on hers. “There’s no sacrifice, love. I’ll do it because I’m crazy about you, and the only thing I want in life is to be with you. I just wish you knew how much I love you, Alexis.”

He stroked her face and kissed her softly, gently caressing her back with his hands.

After a moment of kissing next to the river, they started eating their delicacies.

Liam observed his fiancée, unsure of how to address the subject. “We’re getting married in two months, love.”

She nodded, smiling. “I’m aware of it, Li.”

“So, you’re also aware that you can’t postpone it anymore. We can go together if you want. You need … closure.”

“Do we have to talk about it now?”

“You never want to talk about it, Alexis. It’s time.”

“I promise, I’ll take care of it as soon as we arrive in Cordonia.”

He nodded, unconvinced; she had made him the same promise several weeks ago.

He just hoped that after everything that had happened and the guilt he carried with him every day, he was going to be able to marry her and make her happy for the rest of their lives.

#tears in heaven #drake x mc #drakexmc #liam rhys #liam x mc #alexis o'brien #tw suicude #tw depression #tw death

[clumsyclifford]

i know that you’re so afraid

and it’s getting late, 'but i'll stay 'til you come down.

Luke lets himself in and is met with wreckage and a scream that is so guttural, so primal, that for a moment he feels truly afraid. (Or, Ashton's never been like this, and he's falling apart.)

TW mostly for lots of angst and crying and such. however also contains ashton yelling for a moment so if men yelling is something that triggers/upsets you then maybe skip this one. title from come down by noah kahan.

part 1 (tumblr) // part 2 (tumblr)

read it on ao3 here

~

Luke lets himself in and is met with wreckage and a scream that is so guttural, so primal, that for a moment he feels truly afraid.

Then there are sobbing sounds, the gut-wrenching kind that only ever happens when you’re home by yourself and everything has gone wrong, and Luke thinks maybe he understands a little better.

Gingerly, he steps over the throw pillows discarded in front of the door, picking them up as he goes. The living room is in a state of total disarray. Every blanket, pillow, and cushion they’ve ever had on any couch has been yanked off and unceremoniously tossed into a different corner; there are shreds of paper like oversized snowflakes littering the ground. In the middle of it all, on his knees, chest heaving and body shaking with his face in his hands, is Ashton.

“Ashton?” Luke says softly, and Ashton doesn’t look up. He makes a noise, though, a groan that sounds helpless and despairing.

“Fuck,” Ashton says, in a trembling voice. He rubs his hands furiously over his face and pulls one through his hair, which is unruly, like he’s been moving around a lot and hasn’t checked his reflection yet. “Fuck, you — you weren’t —”

“We finished early,” Luke says calmly. “What happened here?”

Ashton shakes his head. “Leave and come back, I’ll — I’ll clean up.”

“Don’t worry about cleaning up,” Luke says.

Ashton grunts viciously and pushes himself to his feet. “Go, please go,” he begs, “I’ll — please.”

He sounds scared, and that makes Luke scared. There are tear tracks all down Ashton’s face, glistening over angry red scratch marks, like he’d tried to claw the tears off. “Take a deep breath.”

“Don’t fucking tell me to take a deep breath!” Ashton shouts, and then his face falls into his hands again. “Luke, please, I’m not like this, I don’t want you to see me like this. Please leave. Please.”

“I live here too,” Luke says. “And I’m not leaving you like this.”

Ashton presses the heels of his palms into his eye sockets. “I don’t want this. Please go away.”

Luke moves gently towards Ashton. “You won’t hurt me.”

“Of course I won’t,” Ashton says helplessly, “but look at the fucking state I’m in —”

“Don’t stop on my account,” Luke says. “Keep throwing shit. Scream all you want.”

Ashton shakes his head, and a sob escapes through his lips unbidden. “Luke, I just need to be alone.”

“I don’t think you should,” Luke says carefully, stepping closer and closer. Ashton doesn’t move until Luke is within arm’s reach, until Luke reaches out hesitantly to touch his shoulder, and then he collapses into Luke, crying harder than Luke’s ever heard anyone cry. The sound tears at Luke’s chest, tugs mercilessly at his heartstrings.

“I’m sorry,” Ashton cries into his shoulder, “I’m so sorry, this is the worst of me.”

There’s nothing to say, really. This is the worst of Ashton, and Luke doesn’t love him any less for it. “It’s okay,” he whispers, holding Ashton tightly, like that will keep him from falling apart any more. “It’s okay. I know. I’m here, I’ve got you.”

Ashton won’t stop apologizing, and he also doesn’t stop crying for a good five minutes. Luke scans the living room over Ashton’s shoulder as he gently cards through Ashton’s hair. It looks like a tornado has ripped through the place. Something really, truly upsetting must have happened. More than one thing, maybe. In all the years they’ve known each other, Luke has never known Ashton like this.

“What happened?” Luke says quietly, when the broken sobs have turned into irregular whimpers and Luke feels exceedingly warm from Ashton’s body heat, numb from Ashton’s weight clinging to him. “Is there anything I can do?”

Ashton sniffs. “Mum called,” he says weakly. “Lauren’s in the hospital. Tripped and cut her leg and she had to get stitches.”

“Oh, Ash,” Luke breathes. It hurts Luke to know that Lauren is hurt; he can’t imagine how bad it must feel for Ashton.

“I can’t be there for her,” Ashton says, sounding angry and hopeless and defeated all at once. “I can’t go. I’m stuck here. Even if I left the minute I got the call, by the time I got there she’d be out.” Luke presses a kiss to the junction between Ashton’s shoulder and neck, and the tension seems to drain a bit from Ashton’s body. “I miss her, and I miss Harry and my mum and — and I miss Sydney so much, don’t you miss home, Luke?”

Luke nods. Generally he tries not to think about how much he misses home, tries not to think about how even after all this time, home is still Sydney, not LA. It hurts, all the more because there’s not a lot Luke can do to remedy it. He can visit, sure, but if he wants to sustain this career he has — if he wants to live his dream — the chances of him ever moving back home are slim to none.

“You can still go,” he tells Ashton, rubbing rhythmic circles into his back, over the rough cotton of his shirt. “And she’ll be okay, you know. It’s going to be okay.” Ashton shakes his head and pulls away from Luke, unreadable from all the emotions flitting across his face.

“I know she’ll be fucking okay, Luke, but I can’t be there when she’s not!” he snaps. Luke tries not to flinch. He’s not scared of Ashton, but he can see how someone could be, in a moment like this. Ashton notices anyway, because Ashton always notices, and he squeezes his eyes shut, fresh tears trekking down his face. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m — I told you I didn’t want you —”

“Ashton, Ashton, no,” Luke says, bringing a hand up to Ashton’s face and tilting their foreheads together. Ashton’s erratic breath leaves staggered puffs of air against Luke’s face, and Luke thinks he might cry, too, except he can’t, because Ashton is crying. They can’t both fall apart; there’d be no one to pick up the pieces. “No. I’m not scared of you. You’re upset. You’re allowed to be upset. Your sister’s in the hospital.”

“I can’t be like this with you,” Ashton whimpers. “You’re all I have, and I’ll scare you off —”

“I’m not all you have, and you could never scare me off,” Luke interrupts. The tears on Ashton’s face are tracing the outline of Luke’s thumb as they make their way down his cheek; Luke cradles Ashton’s face as delicately as he can and wipes the tears away. “We can both go. Even if you get there after she’s out, she’ll be happy to see you.”

“I’m useless,” Ashton says hoarsely, “can’t do anything, can’t even be there to hold her fucking hand while they stitch her up —”

“They wouldn’t let you be there for that anyway,” Luke says. “Ashton. Ash. I’m — I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

Ashton breaks down again, falling limp against Luke, and Luke lets him cry it out. He doesn’t say anything. There’s nothing that bears saying. This news is poison, and Ashton needs to flush it out.

“Aren’t you scared?” he murmurs brokenly into Luke’s neck. Luke exhales.

“Of you? Never.”

“I am,” Ashton whispers. “I don’t want this to be me, but I think it is.”

“This isn’t you,” Luke says firmly. “If it were, I’d have seen it a lot sooner. You’d have done it a lot sooner.”

“I tore up my songwriting notebook,” Ashton confesses, sounding terrified to say it out loud. “After I hung up with my mum, I tried to write — I thought maybe — if I could put it in words, but — I can’t. I couldn’t. I was so angry I just — I just ripped it in half. Tore up all the pages.”

That’ll be the scraps of paper all over the floor, then. “It sounds like you needed to rip something up.”

“What kind of person am I that I need to break something when I’m upset?” Ashton says, horrified.

“Don’t do this,” Luke says, tracing arbitrary lines and shapes into Ashton’s back as if he’ll unlock the pattern to make Ashton feel better. “You weren’t just upset. You’ve had a bad day. Bad week. And you haven’t done anything about it. It built up. That’s normal.”

“But what if you’d been here?”

Luke doesn’t know. What if he had been here? Would Ashton have kept it to himself, retreated to his room to cry in solitude? Or would he have screamed anyway, filled the house with heart-wrenching cries, demolished the living room as Luke stood by and watched?

Luke wonders which would be worse.

“Don’t do that either,” Luke says. “I wasn’t here. I am now. You went a little crazy. You’re allowed.”

Ashton huffs, and Luke thinks maybe, just maybe, there’s a laugh hidden somewhere in there. “That’s a nice way of putting it.”

Luke leans away and presses a kiss to Ashton’s forehead. “Can you breathe?” Ashton nods. “Want me to look up flights to Sydney?” Ashton nods again, leaning his head heavily against Luke’s, rough hands wrapping around Luke’s neck like a lifeline, like a noose, like both. Luke thinks he would die for Ashton, if it came down to it; not figuratively, but actually trade Ashton’s life for Luke’s own, and of all the scary things of today, that one is the biggest. He takes a deep breath. “Okay. I can do that. We’ll clean this up later. How about we order pizza for dinner, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Ashton mumbles. “I’m so fucking sorry, Luke.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Luke says. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I know this isn’t you, and I know you feel badly, but you don’t have to be sorry, not to me.”

“But I am anyway.”

“I forgive you,” Luke says, even though there’s nothing to forgive. Ashton closes his eyes and breathes out like someone’s just released pressure on his chest. “Please don’t be sorry anymore. You haven’t done anything that bears forgiving. I forgive you for nothing.”

“Thank you anyway,” Ashton says, deathly quiet. “I’m so — I don’t know what I would do without you, Luke. I really don’t.”

“Lucky for you, you never have to find out,” Luke says, pulling Ashton into a hug. “I’ll find a flight and we’ll bring a bunch of ridiculous presents to Lauren, and we can stay for a little bit. You’ll see them soon. It’ll be good for you.”

“As long as you’re there,” Ashton says softly. “You keep me together.”

You keep me together too, Luke doesn’t say, even if they both know it’s true. That’s the deal, I think.

He closes his eyes and listens to Ashton’s breathing, finally steady, counting the seconds between each inhale. It’s more soothing than the ticking of a clock, and it washes over Luke. This should scare Luke, but it doesn’t: if he could, he’d measure his own breaths against Ashton’s, so when they stopped, so would his.

#this is really upsetting i have to say #but you would not BELIEVE the day i had that led me to write this #was it terrible? YES IT WAS! #luke hemmings #ashton irwin #lashton #lashton fic #5sos #5sos fic #fic #my fic #emo lashton #this series has gotten SIGNIFICANTLY more emo #the first installment is like. NOTHINGGGG compared to the second and third #and i am sorry for that #can you tell i am goin thru it #i literally had a terrible day #i mean my sister isnt in the hospital #fun fact though she WAS in the hospital #oh these tags are spoilery SORRY i take it back nobodys in any hospitals #anyway this is for sam #can you believe im posting a fic like four hours before im going to be posting a chapter #maybe ill post the hello hello chapter tomorrow night #just to space stuff out a little more #im always like 'i should save some fic and not post stuff the moment i write it' #and then i never do that #thats a LIE actually i still have post you blues in my ao3 drafts #youll get that eventually............ #probably before august 30th because i think thats when the draft expires #i dont know how to like fuckin. renew a draft

[crackimagines]

Take Over (FE: Three Houses Short Fic)

Persona 5 AU (Crimson Flower)

P5 AU Masterlist Here

—

With the Adrestian Empire declaring war on the church and moving to invade Garreg Mach, the Phantom Thieves move to steal the heart of Archbishop Rhea.

The clock is ticking for the Phantom Thieves, because if the invasion fails, then all their classmates are doomed to perish from the might of the Church.

—

Akira made sure that the Black Eagles and the Imperial forces were moving far ahead of them, as his team slowed down.

(Morgana) “I don’t think they’ll realize we’re gone in time.”

(Ryuji) “Alright, then let’s hurry this shit up! If we can take down Rhea and her lackies, then we can stop this war before it even begins!”

(Makoto) “As much as I would like for that to happen, we need to be extra careful. Something’s been acting up with the MetaNAV as of late!”

When Akira pulled out his phone, their Phantom Thief outfits began flashing onto them before fading away.

(Futaba) “This has happened everytime we’re preparing to enter it, what’s going on?”

(Yusuke) “I’m afraid we do not have the luxury of time to be asking that. We must hurry before the Imperials reach Garreg Mach!”

(Ann) “Yeah, and Rhea’s palace is on full alert. We gotta get going.”

(Haru) “Akira, if you would!”

Akira nodded and pressed the button.

(Phone) Transformation successful. Now merging Metaverse and the Real World.

(Everyone) ?!

The world around them began to distort as normal, but when it was finished, they noticed the world had not even changed in the slightest.

Even Garreg Mach in the distance had no visible effect. Edelgard and the others kept marching.

(Ryuji) “The shit is this?!”

(Makoto) “How is this even possible, we shouldn’t be able to access our Personas in the real world!”

(Haru) “This is bad! Everyone might be walking into a palace! They aren’t equipped to deal with shadows!”

(Futaba) “No, I’m not detecting anything different except...Holy crap, there’s one super strong reading in Garreg Mach!”

(Ann) “Rhea!”

(Yusuke) “They’re going to get massacred!”

(Morgana) “Joker, what’s our orders?!”

(Akira) “We need to get there before they do as fast as possible! Our identities might get compromised, but that doesn’t matter right now! Futaba, take Yusuke and Haru on your Persona and head over right now! Makoto, you break through that front gate and make a way for us! Morgana, Ryuji, Ann! With me! Our mission objective remains the same, STOP RHEA!”

[Life Will Change - Persona 5]

Wasting no time, Makoto rode Johanna straight down the road, pulling out her revolver.

Futaba’s Persona beamed the three of them up and flew around the sides.

Morgana transformed into his bus as Akira got on the wheel and stepped on the gas pedal.

...

(Edelgard) “THIS IS EMPEROR EDELGARD! BEGIN YOUR ASSAULT!”

All the soldiers charged the gates, ready to break it down until everyone heard a strange noise coming up behind them.

BANG BANG!

(???) “OUT OF THE WAY!”

Several squads’ advances were halted when a woman on a strange vehicle flew past them and crashed through the gate doors, making several of the church soldiers fly off from the impact.

(Soldier) “Who was that?!”

(Soldier 2) “Was that one of ours?!”

(Hubert) “Doesn’t matter. If they’re helping us then we cannot refuse their help! EVERYONE, CHARGE!”

The Black Eagles charged in with the rest of the soldiers, not noticing the flying saucer soaring above them.

Driving up the middle, Makoto used the front wheels to stop her, turning the back wheels up and hit away a squad of Church soldiers, sending them onto the concrete.

Getting off, Makoto quickly got her mask back on as Johanna disappeared, clenching her fists.

Another squad of soldiers rushed her, swiping their swords at her.

Swiftly dodging the first strike, she counterattacked with a fist going into his stomach, and a kick to the face hurling him back onto two other soldiers.

Grabbing her revolver, she quickly spun around and shot a soldier’s spear, making it fly out of his hand.

Elbowing his head, she ran to the sides of the nearby buildings and found a nearby ballista.

(Soldier) “Take out that thing that’s flying in the sky!”

(Makoto) “Oracle! Tch, NO YOU WON’T!”

...

Futaba beamed down Haru near the ballista Makoto was fighting at, and flew towards the other one.

(Futaba) “Fox and I will get the other ballista! Help Queen!”

Needing no further instruction, Haru held her axe firmly and hit a soldier in the back with the hilt.

(Soldier) “Huh?! BEHIND US-!”

Seizing the opportunity, Makoto used her legs and swept underneath several soldiers, tipping them all over.

(Haru) “MILADY!”

Summoning her Persona, it used a psychokinesis attack and distorted the soldiers, making them unable to get up.

(Makoto) “Thanks for that, Noir!”

(Haru) “No problem, now get back!”

Haru had a devilish smile as she pulled out her grenade launcher and pointed it at the ballista.

(Haru) “It’s going to go boom!”

Makoto smiled and saw other soldiers coming towards them.

After firing a single shot, it completely blew apart, scaring the others.

(Soldier) “W-What kinda weapon is that?!”

(Haru) “WHY DON’T YOU FIND OUT!?”

...

(Futaba) “BEHIND YOU, AIM DOWNWARDS!”

A soldier came for his back, and Yusuke aimed his rifle downwards and shot the sword, the reflection making the soldier recoil in surprise.

His Persona appeared behind him and froze the soldier solid.

(Yusuke) “And now!-”

Turning right around, he used his katana to break the wires and gears, and his Persona slammed its sword downwards, crushing it completely.

(Futaba) “Good job, Fox!”

(Yusuke) “Thank you. Come, we must infiltrate the main room without being seen!”

As they rushed off, the Death Knight and several other Imperial forces took notice of them.

(Death Knight) “The Phantom Thieves are here...? You, send a report to the Emperor!”

...

Once Edelgard and her company took out the squad in the middle, an Imperial soldier ran to her.

(Soldier) “Milady, the ballistae have already been completely wiped out, and enemy forces are dealing with a third group inside! Reports indicate its the Phantom Thieves!”

(Edelgard) “What?!”

Byleth came in from behind and shook his head.

(Byleth) “I couldn’t find Akira and the others, they just disappeared!”

(Edelgard) “Where-...wait a minute, could they?-”

Her thoughts were interrupted when a bus came barreling through.

(Familiar Girl’s Voice) “S-SORRY EVERYONE!”

(Familiar Punk’s Voice) “SHIT MAN!”

Spinning around, the bus exploded into a cloud of smoke, revealing 3 figures and a cat.

(Byleth) “Identify yourselves!”

Looking up, they all had masks that was hard to make out their faces, but their hair...

No one had time to get a good luck and recognize them when 2 golems headed their way.

(Soldier) “INCOMING!”

The 3 figures and cat turned around, reaching for their masks.

(Everyone) “PERSONA!”

4 shadows emerged from them and flew towards the golem, using a combination of slicing and spells to wipe them out, with a fireball and tornado wiping out one while a bolt of lightning wiped out the others.

The wings of the boy in black’s shadow blew an incoming squad away and straight into the walls.

The boy made sure not to say a word and moved through the main gate of the Monastery.

(Byleth) “I’m going after them!”

(Edelgard) “Professor, wait!”

Before she could follow, Edelgard heard someone’s voice scream out.

(Dimitri) “EDELGAAAAARD!”

Slamming his lance against her shield, she knew that he wasn’t going to stop until either of them were dead.

She quietly muttered to herself.

(Byleth) “...Akira, Byleth, please be careful...”

Finally making it to the final room, Catherine was blown back by an explosion while Cyril fell to the floor, covered in frost.

[Blood of Villain - Persona 5]

(Rhea) “They’re still alive...You play an interesting game, Phantom Thieves.”

Everyone noticed that her eyes were yellow instead of green.

(Futaba) “D-Did her shadow merge with her real self?!”

(Ryuji) “Tch, she was already powerful enough!”

Byleth ran in, and stood beside Akira, drawing his sword.

(Rhea) “YOU, I WILL MAKE SURE YOU DIE BY MY HANDS! I WILL RIP YOUR HEART OUT OF YOUR CHEST!”

(Byleth) “Heh, kinda upset I didn’t realize you all were the Phantom Thieves beforehand...”

(Akira) “Little slow there, teach! But hope that isn’t true when it comes to this fight! As for you, you have anything to say Rhea?! For all the lives you’ve taken?!”

(Rhea) “THOSE WHO OPPOSE THE CHURCH WILL BE CRUSHED WITHOUT MERCY. I CARE NOT FOR YOUR OPINIONS...No matter...Thanks to your appearances, I can now get rid of all my problems at once! Phantom Thieves, the Empire, Byleth...Your crimes will not go unpunished!”

(Ann) “That’s our line, you psychotic bitch! Enforcing your law on everyone and killing them as soon as they disagree?! You’re the one in the wrong!”

(Rhea) “You have NO idea what I’ve suffered! THE EMPIRE WORKS WITH THOSE WHO SLITHER IN THE DARK, AND I WILL NEVER FORGIVE ANY WHO WORK WITH THEM.”

(Yusuke) “So, it would seem that she refuses to admit the fault in her logic.”

(Haru) “I can’t say that I’m surprised!”

(Makoto) “Words are meaningless, we gotta let our fists do the talking!”

[Blooming Villain - Persona 5]

(Rhea) “THEN ALL OF YOU WILL DIE!”

(Akira) “EVERYONE, LET’S FINISH THIS!”

Byleth rushed first, slamming the Sword of the Creator against Rhea's dagger.

She kicked him away, her strike hurting far more than he anticipated and flew back near the stairs.

(Akira) "ARSENE, TAKE HER DOWN!"

(Ann) "DANCE, CARMEN!"

Both of them took off their masks and summoned their Personas, Carmen igniting the area around Rhea as Arsene used its foot blade to cut her.

Wounded from the cut and bits of cloth and skin on fire, she ran through it and fired a spell at Arsene, making it stagger back.

Akira clenched his teeth as he felt the pain Arsene did, the spell hitting the shoulder hard.

Ann used her whip and swung it at Rhean which wrapped around Rhea's dagger.

Yanking it back, the whip flew out of her hand and into the floor.

Before Rhea rushed forward, she noticed that the rest of the Phantom Thieves were nowhere to be seen.

She leaped onto the air as bullets flew and hit the wall where she was, everyone pointing their guns at her.

Yusuke kept the pressure on her with his assault rifle, the bullets coming too rapidly for her to try anything.

When Rhea landed, she used her dagger to deflect a bullet, seeing Makoto attempting to make precise shots.

Rhea dashed towards Makoto and threw a fist out, which was caught by Makoto's arm, and whiffed to the side of her head.

Makoto kept her in place as she took off her mask, and a blinding blue light was underneath them.

Headbutting Makoto away, Rhea dodged the explosion by rolling away as she was barely caught by it.

Looking upwards, Ryuji, Morgana, and Haru had their Personas out, and Rhea was blinded by a psychokinesis spell.

Morgana's persona thrusted its rapier at her, but managed to dodge every single strike.

(Ryuji) "CAPTAIN KIDD!"

A cannon shot out of its arm, and hit Rhea in the stomach, making her crash through a wall.

Quickly getting up, Rhea tried to anticipate the next attack and barely managed to catch Yusuke's katana with her hand.

Joker came from behind and had Arsene grab her by the neck and slam her against the floor, sliding her and tossing her up onto the ceiling, making it crack with the impact.

Byleth jumped in and used the whip function of his sword to strike her midair, leaving a nasty wound across her chest.

Despite such a harsh assault, she managed to land on both her feet, looking at the Phantom Thieves.

Seeing her hands covered in blood, she clenched her teeth and her eyes widened with rage.

(Akira) "Surrender Rhea, you have lost!"

(Rhea) "No...NO! I WILL NEVER SURRENDER!"

(Futaba) "She's weak guys, LET'S FINISH THIS!"

(Akira) "ON ME!”

All of them hopped back and prepared for a final assault.

Drawing their weapons they all rushed her at once, striking at her weak and wounded spots in the blink of an eye.

Joker landed in front of Byleth, adjusting his gloves as Rhea’s body started shaking.

[Song End]

Rhea collapsed to the ground, not being able to stand up after that onslaught. 

Byleth nodded in thanks, and moved towards Rhea, pointing his sword at her.

Edelgard and the other Black Eagles moved in, surrounding her with the Phantom Thieves.

(Edelgard) “So, it really is you guys.”

(Akira) “Surprised?”

(Edelgard) “Not particularly. But, that’s for another time. Rhea. By the order of the Adrestian Empire, you will be imprisoned. This fight is over, you have lost.”

(Rhea) “No...”

Her body shook violently again, with her looking straight at Edelgard.

(Rhea) “NO! YOU WILL DIE! GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH-”

The pressure she exerted pushed everyone back.

With her shape changing form, she towered over everyone.

(Edelgard) “Damn it! EVERYONE, RETREAT!”

Everyone started running out, with Byleth and the Phantom Thieves keeping her occupied.

(Edelgard) “EVERYONE, COME ON!”

(Akira) “Oracle, escape route for us? If she chases us, then everyone outside’s done for!”

(Futaba) “I can’t find any! Dang it, come on!”

(Ryuji) “Tch...I think there’s only one way out of here for them.”

Everyone turned to Ryuji, but realized what he meant.

There was no other way.

(Akira) “Professor, go. They need you!”

(Byleth) “What?! What about you all?!”

(Akira) “Don’t worry about that, you just gotta-”

Rhea began charging up a beam from her mouth, and Byleth spun around and activated the whip function, slicing at a massive pile of debris above them, cutting off the Black Eagles from them.

(Akira) “...I see.”

(Edelgard) “Everyone, what the hell are you doing?!”

(Byleth) “Hah...It’s all right. Now, get out of here!”

(Edelgard) “No, I won’t accept this! WE’RE NOT LEAVING YOU ALL BEHIND!”

(Akira) “Then we have to make you. ARSENE!”

Appearing outside the rubble, it closed its wings, using the pressure of the wind to send them flying away.

(Edelgard) “NO! LET ME STAY! BYLETH, AKIRA! NO!”

Byleth and Akira had a self-mocking smile, as they turned around.

(Akira) “Everyone, it’s been a good run.”

(Ryuji) “I don’t wanna die but...Hah, I’m glad I’m at least dying together with you all.”

(Ann) “You idiots were the best thing that happened to me, you know that?”

(Yusuke) “I concur...with you all, my life found its meaning.”

(Makoto) “I’m proud to have fought for justice with everyone.”

(Haru) “May we all meet again in a better life...”

(Morgana) “I guess this is goodbye then...Hey, Byleth...Thanks for everything too.”

(Byleth) “All of you...”

The Phantom Thieves turned around to Byleth.

(Byleth) “I’m proud to have been your teacher.”

Rhea fired the beam at them, everyone accepting their fate.

However, the beam reflected onto the ground from an unknown force, shattering the ground around them.

Rhea managed to fly away from it, albeit heavily injured but the rest of the Phantom Thieves and Byleth were surprised.

(Ryuji) “You gotta be effin’ kidding me! IS THIS FOR REAL?! AFTER ALL WE SAID, WE DIE TO SOME GOD DAMN RO-”

Before everyone could process that they were still alive, the ground beneath them collapsed, sending them into the bottomless canyon below.

(Everyone) “AAAAAAAH!” “SHIIIIIIT-” “WOAAAAH!? “GAAAAAAAAAH-”

...

...

...

#persona 5 imagines #persona 5 headcanons #akira kurusu #futaba sakura #haru okumura #ann takamaki #makoto niijima #yusuke kitagawa #morgana #ryuji sakamoto #byleth #archbishop rhea #Edelgard von Hresvelg #black eagles #phantom thieves #hubert von vestra #fire emblem three houses imagines #fire emblem three houses headcanons #fe3h imagines

[evangeline-of-montfort]

ash garden (iii)

chapters 1 & 2 read it here on ao3

The bison, freed from Atara’s control, whip around in wild fear. They charge blindly, knocking raiders aside like bowling pins. I see a blur of black as Tana evades one with lethal grace. She ducks to the left and spins around again, pulling the trigger and taking the beast in the heart. It collapses, a two thousand pound deadweight, and I can practically feel the ground shudder.

“Those are a protected species,” Davidson gripes under his breath. 

Despite the circumstances, I smile. “Given that they’re trying to kill us—” Someone raises a gun, and I make a fist, squeezing his weapon into a crumpled ball—“I don’t think they give two shits about bison.” 

“You have a point,” he concedes. 

A raider takes advantage of our brief distraction to attack. Davidson reacts before I do, tossing a shield in front of himself like a grenade in a blinding flash of blue light. She slams into it with a sickening crunch. 

He staggers back a pace from the effort, and I move to catch him. “Are you okay?” 

Davidson throws out his hands. A flickering glow appears between them before blinking out again. “Ability exhaustion. I’m out.” 

“I can cover us,” I say, widening my focus. Every bit of metal in the vicinity sings in my perception. My ability envelopes us like a protective bubble, sending enemy bullets flying back towards their owners. 

He smiles grimly and draws a gun from his belt. “In that case, we’re about to see how good of a shot I still am.” 

We wreck havoc together, covering each other as we push forward. The premier’s aim is steady and unerring. Every time he pulls the trigger, a raider goes down. I’ve never encountered a better shot, barring my Samos cousins.

“I used to be one of the best snipers in the Nortan army,” Davidson says as I wave away another round of bullets. “Not proud of it, but the skill does come in handy.”

A greeny thrusts out her arms, and a tree erupts from the ground a hair from my face. Vines snake from the branches, as fast and agile as a pit viper. 

With a burst of concentration, I rip a gun out of a raider’s hand, turning it into a dual set of blades. The vines rip at my skin and hair, regrowing as soon as I cut them. It feels like I’m fighting an entire forest. Everywhere I turn, there’s another one, writhing in my vision until all I see is a blanket of verdant green. 

A gunshot rings out, and the vines wilt instantly without the power of a greenwarden. 

“Couldn’t let you have all the fun,” Davidson says. The raider topples over behind him, dead before she hits the ground.

“There’s plenty to go around,” I point out, sidestepping the tree. “As I recall, you seem to be the one that keeps saving my life.”

His easy manner disappears, and he looks me square in the eyes. “I consider that a duty, Evangeline. That’s why I’m here.”

Warmth blooms in my chest like a firework. Over the years, I’d worked closely enough with the premier to know that he’s fiercely protective of the people he loves. I’d just never stopped to consider that I had somehow become one of those people. 

The last two raiders back into the cover of a pine tree. One is a stoneskin, pebbles and earth sloughing off her rocky flesh. The other is a blood healer, probably a member of the former House Blonos. His face is unnaturally smooth, skin stretched tightly around his skull like a morph suit. I’ve never fought a Blonos son before, and Lord Arven didn’t have much to say about them in Theory. I wonder how hard they are to kill—or  if they can be killed. 

Before either of us can attack, the Nortans take us by surprise, and they both lunge at Davidson—the weaker target, with his abilities exhausted. He fires reflexively, taking the stoneskin in the shoulder, but she brushes it off with a snarl. 

Blonos is on him before he can do anything else, landing a kick to the gut. The premier gasps, doubling over. The gun clatters from his hand. 

The feeling that erupts in the pit of my stomach is similar to my reaction at seeing Tolly in danger. Red-hot anger surges in me like a torrent, and I unleash the energy with a shout. 

Guns and bullets shred under my wrath like paper. With another burst of willpower, I create a whirlwind of shrapnel, sending it swirling around the Nortans in gales of copper, gusts of steel.

The stoneskin falls under my onslaught, bleeding from countless wounds, dozens of projectiles buried like splinters in her gray skin. I swallow a bolt of nausea and look away. It’s not the worst way I’ve killed someone, but it’s pretty close.

Blonos heals just as quickly as he bleeds. A million cuts open on his too-perfect skin, here one second and gone the next. He curls his lip, utterly unaffected by the maelstrom. “Is that the worst you can do?” 

I sneer in response, but I can feel my energy waning already. A metal tornado is not sustainable for long periods of time. 

Blue energy flickers suddenly between Davidson’s hands. It’s weak, a shadow of his usual power, but it’s definitely  there . Then it flickers one last time and disappears.

Blonos turns to him, his expression still dripping with contempt. The last cuts on his face close over as my whirlwind slows and stops, metal projectiles dropping harmlessly to the ground. “My, how the mighty have fallen. Is this what Montfort is? Runaway Silver daughters and–”

He doesn’t get any further before I spear him in the chest. The lance goes through him like a knife through butter, in and out before he can blink. It’s a clean shot to the heart—one of the only ways to kill a blood healer. 

A part of me thinks of Corvium, of how my brother killed Mare’s the same exact way. Some scars never fade. 

Blonos falls slowly, as if through water. His frame seems to shrivel as his skin wrinkles and his hair turns gray, decades of anti-aging reversed in a single second. When his body finally hits the earth, it is surprisingly quiet, even somber. 

The silence that follows is almost deafening. 

It’s over. We’re alive. 

We’re alive. I take a deep breath, the first in what feels like hours. 

There was a time today when I thought that I wouldn’t be going home to Elane. That perhaps my intended fate was inescapable, and I would end up tethered to a throne after all. Relief washes over me—waves and waves of it, cold and sweet. 

“Thank you for showing up,” I manage to say, turning to Davidson. “And for that last distraction.” 

“Least I could do.” He frowns at the back of his hands. The tiny shield flickers more violently between them before blinking out again. “I pushed myself a little hard with the bison.” 

“The other option would’ve been dying, if you prefer that,” I remind him. “Now, let’s head back, before Elane and Carmadon go–”

The hair on the back of my neck prickles. A sixth sense, honed over years of arena battles and courtly intrigue, tells me to stop. Something is wrong.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a flash of movement—a shadow ghosting from the trees—and a glint of white as the sun flashes off her teeth, bared in a triumphant smile. 

Tana Iral draws a dagger from her belt and throws, moving so fast my eyes can’t follow her movement. But I was trained in a hard school, trained to be faster than even the silks of House Iral. I barely blink as I push outwards with my ability. 

I’ve done this so many times that I see it in my head without even trying. The tiny resistance as I stop the blade in midair and turn it back. The shocked look on Iral’s face as her own knife sinks into her chest and she crumples to the ground.

But that isn’t what happens.

In fact, nothing happens. My ability meets nothing, and the blade keeps coming. 

Time hangs suspended—half a second stretching for an eternity—as I freeze, too surprised to react. I don’t understand. This isn’t physically possible.

Sunlight gleams through the dagger: not off, through, and I want to scream. Tana’s wolfish smile makes sense now. The dagger is glass. There’s nothing I can do to stop it. 

My mind flashes to Elane, Ptolemus, Carm and Davidson, even Mare and Cal—everyone I thought I would have more time with. Everyone I thought I could make amends with. I’m so sorry. 

And then the moment ends, the blip in time brushed over. Someone—Davidson  —shoves me hard to the side, out of the way of impending doom. I hit the dirt and roll, springing to my feet in anticipation of a fight, but Tana has disappeared into the gathering darkness. Coward. 

“Thanks for the save,” I gasp, turning to him. “I thought I was–” 

My heart stutters midbeat. 

Davidson staggers, clutching his stomach. Scarlet seeps through his fingers, as red and inexorable as the dawn. 

He pushed me out of the way and took the knife himself. Shielding me even without his ability. 

“No.” I run to him, lowering him to the ground as his knees buckle and his legs give out. “No, no, no.” This is not happening. 

This cannot be happening. 

“I’ll get you to Carmadon,” I hear myself saying. “We’ll find a medic. Skin healers—they can fix this. They can fix anything. Do you hear me?”

Even in this state, his composure doesn’t fail. When he speaks, his voice is calm and measured. “Yes, Evangeline… I hear you.” For a second, if I close my eyes, I can pretend that everything is alright; that I am nineteen again, and the premier is chiding me for an impulsive decision. 

But I have to open them again eventually, and I come face-to-face with cold reality—Davidson slumped on the ground, crimson still seeping through his shirt. My hands curl uselessly at my sides. I was raised on a battlefield with skin healers in the wings, ready to treat anything. I don’t know what to do in this situation. 

Maybe there’s nothing I can do, and that’s the worst truth of all. 

The long shadows and mountain air chill me to the bone as I kneel at his side, my knees digging into the freezing earth, but I refuse to move. “They—they can fix anything,” I repeat again, robotically, but this time even I can hear the denial in my voice. 

Davidson shakes his head, his gold eyes piercing me to the bone. “Not… this,” he rasps, and blood flecks his lips. I don’t want to think about the way the glass probably shattered and cut up his insides. “There’s no way back, Evangeline.” 

My brain refuses to comprehend his words. Dane Davidson was—no,  is —a visionary, rebel, fighter, and leader. A man who escaped from Norta’s Silver boot to crush kingdoms to dust. He couldn’t possibly be brought low by an assassin’s dagger. 

He couldn’t possibly be brought low saving me.

I’m not worth that. 

He grips my hand with surprising strength. His breaths come shallower, and his chest rattles as he fights for life. Despite my denials, I’ve seen enough battlefield deaths to know what will happen next.

The inevitable.  

I swallow, surprised to feel tears streaking down my face. Tears I never wept after the death of my father, five years ago on that cursed bridge in Archeon. 

But I cry them now. Davidson was the father of a country, an entire dream made reality. And more than that, he gave me advice, mentorship, a new life in Montfort. He was more of a father to me than the man who married my mother.

His life prevented the death of millions, and now, because of me, it’s about to end. 

“Why?” I find myself asking. “Why did you just… trade your life for mine?” 

“You are worth it—worth dying for. We have more important things… to talk about.” He clutches at the collar of his shirt with trembling fingers, and for a second I think he’s struggling for air. Then Davidson produces a thin chain, and my breath catches when I see what’s on the end. 

The ring glints in the waning sunlight, still untarnished after decades. It is identical to the one his husband wears: silver for the color of Carm’s blood, gold for Davidson’s burning gaze.

“Give this to Carmadon,” the premier whispers, Something in my chest shatters at the way he says his husband’s name, the way he pores slowly over each syllable. Carmadon. Car-ma-don, like he doesn’t want to let it go. “Tell him I am sorry. He—he will understand.” 

I can only find it in me to nod wordlessly. My vision blurs as Davidson’s fingers slacken, still holding the ring, clasping it to his chest as it rises and falls. “ I am sorry,” I manage to stutter. “I should’ve done more—should’ve—”

“Rage and guilt destroy lives brighter than yours,” he interrupts with surprising force, suddenly gripping my fingers. His hands are callused, still warm, and I take this feeling, this moment, and bury it deep in my chest. Willing myself to never forget it. “You hold your emotions too tight, Evangeline. Please, don’t let this be the case with me.” 

“Still giving advice, still trying to better someone else,” I say quietly, but I know he’s right. Ice-cold anger already whispers through my veins, trying to eclipse the sorrow in my heart. Anger at Iral, anger at the Silver Secession, anger at myself most of all. “Some things never change.”

His voice is getting softer, but it is no less assured. I should’ve known a flame like Davidson’s would burn until the end. “That is who I always have been. My entire life. I’m… content with that.”

“That is good,” I whisper. Every other word that has ever existed fails me. They don’t come close to describing the gravity of this moment. There’s nothing else to say.

“But now,” Davidson breathes, “I am done. But you—” He squeezes my hand again, weakly, and with an awful finality—“carry on. Have strength, Evangeline.”

The rise and fall of his chest slows and stops.

I kneel there, my hands still gripping his, my chest hollowed of all emotion as I keep vigil in the bitter cold. 

The sun dips below the mountains, gold fading to scarlet fading to deep blue.

I do not move again until the scarlet returns in the east.  

~~~

taglist: @freaky-freiday @evangelineartemiasamos @farleydiana @fuvkingmagnus @folkoftheair @lilyharvord @scarletbarrow @gansey-just-gansey @glossy-vanilla

#red queen #red queen fandom #evangeline samos #dane davidson #red queen fanfiction #rq fanfic #rq fandom #evangeline of montfort #ash garden

[aspaceformyselffics09]

Chapter 1 - Blue

Summary: Sometimes, falling can be a new beginning. And like wise, loosing something may also be the first step to finding something else. That in which, both you and yoongi were dealing to survive with the ghosts of your past, but when the two of you cross paths, will you be each other’s strengths and get through whatever is holding you back? I’m shit at summaries, please forgive me. 

Pairing: Yoongi x reader 

Genre: Angst, romance, slice of life, is there fluff? I don’t know, non idol AU

Warnings: none so far

Word count: 2k

Chapter 2

It was a chilly December evening when you arrived in Seoul. Strapped to your seat, you gazed at the scenery below as the plane plunged through the dense cloud cover on approach to the Incheon International airport. Ominous grey clouds loomed across the sky signalling the onset of an oncoming shower about to dwell the earth’s terrain. As the sun began to set, dusk cast its spell over the city. It soon began to grow dark and gloomy. 

No sooner did the plane touch the ground and reach the gate, the passengers unfastened their seatbelts and began pulling out their luggage from the overhead lockers. You sat still, staring blankly outside, showing no signs of moving. A part of you didn’t want to believe you’re here, a part of you wanted to make peace with the whole state of affairs. You blinked at the scenery outside. Trying to wake from the haze your mind sent. It didn’t feel real. Above you, the captain’s voice began to flow from the ceiling speakers, in a language very familiar to your ears. That was when it hit you. So, Seoul it is, again. Your grip around the arms of your seat tightened and suddenly you weren’t sure if you even wanted to get off the plane. 

Seoul. The name never failed to send a shudder through your body. But this time, you can feel it hit you harder than ever before. The familiarity, the warm heartiness, the way it made you feel belonged, the way it heightened your senses. After all, it was your home once upon a time. Your mind drifted in and out of the thoughts lurking at the back of your mind. Thinking about all that had gone by and of all the bridges that were burnt. Nightfall always had its way around you. It sends an intense tornado swirling inside you, a violent one, creating thunderstorms all around the universe, shattering everything in its path. The one that doesn’t like to rest. Bending forward, you clutched your head with your hands. How did you end up this way? You never knew. As everyone on board began to descend the plane you noticed the stewardess look at you concerned. Slowly, you straightened up unfastening your seatbelt. You then, pulled your luggage from the overhead lockers and made your way out of the plane.

Amongst the countless shapes that rushed past you, you walked slowly dragging your luggage. You had no idea where you were heading to or where you were supposed to head to. You just walked, blindly heading on to the direction where the path took you to. You slipped your phone out of your overcoat pocket and stole a glance at it as you felt it beep. “I’ll be waiting for you at the entrance – Joon,'' it read. You stared at it for a while, reading it once, twice, thrice. Trying to make sense of what he was trying to tell you. You could barely connect to this world anymore. Everything seemed so confusing. You hardly made any sense of it. You finally turned it off, letting the words sink into you as you made your way to the entrance. Spotting him wasn’t so difficult. Namjoon stood right outside the terminal, a soft smile decorating his face, his dimples on full display. Time didn’t change him much, you noticed. He looked the same and felt the same. At least that’s what you hoped for. 

He waved at you, the moment he saw you approach him. You waved back, smiling ever so slightly. After a brief hug, Namjoon bent down to retrieve your suitcase from your hands, both of you then fell into step with each other, making your way towards the exit. The taxi drivers folked around you asking you where you wanted to go, but Namjoon waved them off effectively as he lead you to the parking lot. 

“Glad you’re back,” He said, after you settled into the car.

“I don’t know if it’s a good thing,” You replied, your voice merely a whisper.

“You’ll be alright,” Namjoon said, his hand squeezing yours. A quiet reassurance.

You didn’t say anything but nodded faintly at his words. And he knew not to prod you any further. So he didn’t. Instead, he settled to drive quietly. You turned your head to look at the scenery outside and tried hard not to think about how every inch of the city sent familiar pangs to your heart. It had been six years since you finally decided to come back to Seoul. Six years before you found the courage to face the city once again. Six years ever since you felt like you lost all meaning in your life. Seoul, the place where it all began and the place where it all ended. Also the place that lead you to...Him

                                        ____________________

“I didn’t think she would return to the scene ever again,” Some said.

“Her work lost all color,” some speculated.

“They say her soul shattered into pieces that fateful night,” A few others whispered, their eyes downcast as if in mourning.

“What happened to her...It was sad, tragic”

“Tragic.”

The first time Yoongi laid his eyes on you, he swore what he saw was a dim blue color. A fateful blue mixed with grey, forming a tone of the said color. It was the color of the skies crying, the color of a distant unpropitious storm, a storm that lurked behind the dark pupils that were your eyes. The same blue that reflected off the paintings that were hung on the walls in front of you. The same blue that seemed to radiate off you in different tints, tones and shades. And maybe that’s why when he heard people say your work lost all color, he was confused. And maybe confused was an understatement. He was baffled. People sure were blind, they couldn’t see color where it shone its brightest.

He was probably frozen in space, staring at you, that when Namjoon slipped next to him, he didn’t notice. 

“Hyung, everything going good?” He enquired. 

“This place is brilliant,” Yoongi nodded, fiddling around with his camera, “Thank you for inviting me here.”

“No no,” Namjoon shook his head, “I should thank you for agreeing to be the photographer at the last moment hyung. Really thanks a lot. I would have been lost without you.”

Yoongi didn’t say anything, but simply flashed him a smile.

“Anything for you Joon - ah,” He added after a beat.

Up until this point, it was like any other day for Yoongi. It was the same routine he had, he woke up at some ass O’clock in the morning, had at least close to five cups of coffee, following his daily ritual of keeping himself awake. Then he had to go for work, which means a couple of photoshoots here and there, also not to forget the advertising campaign he was a part of, so he had to rush from one location to another in a matter of a few minutes. Like literally sprint as far as he can. And just when he was home and was about to plop down on the sofa, calling it a day, his phone rang. It was Namjoon requesting him to be the photographer for one the galleries he was hosting. Now, as much as Yoongi loved to and just wanted to rest, he didn’t find it within himself to turn down the younger’s polite request. And so, that’s how he found himself at the venue. Seokjin’s five star restaurant. 

It was a monthly thing for Jin and Namjoon to host art galleries at Jin’s restaurant. A lot of popular artists, students and many of those who show interest in the field, often sign up to get their works displayed at the event. Judged by a panel of artists, ten lucky winners among hundreds of sign ups finally get to showcase their work. The artworks chosen were then allowed to be displayed for over a week. The best part? It’s not just the outreach or the free sign up but also the numerous workshops held throughout the day which allow and encourage a teaching and a learning atmosphere among all those that are gathered. This event served not only as a space for artists to exhibit their work but also as a sanctuary for those who simply appreciated art. 

This was in fact Yoongi’s first time coming to the gallery. He always missed out whenever Namjoon invited him. He was always either working or passed out on his bed or simply just forgot. However, going here for the first time, he wondered why he had missed out on this, the whole time in the last year. Maybe the only other time, he ever appeared at the venue was at its opening, but he never stayed back long enough to look through the gallery or appreciate the form of art. The two men stood around for a while lost in their own thoughts, taking in the atmosphere around them. Beside Yoongi, Namjoon shifted a bit and began to play with the ends of his overcoat. Something he did only when he was a bit nervous.

“You seem a bit fidgety today,” Yoongi observed, “Something wrong?”

“Oh no,” Namjoon said, “A friend of mine is exhibiting after a long time, I’m just a bit worried about her.”

“A first timer?” 

“Nah,” Namjoon replied, “She exhibited here before, but she dropped out of the scene for a while and this probably is her first time after a long time.”

“Ah,” Yoongi nodded, giving the younger’s back an encouraging pat, “She’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

“What about you?” Namjoon asked, “Something caught your eye? You seemed to be staring off into space.”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Yoongi said, he then pointed at the direction where you were standing, “I just thought those line of paintings were interesting.”

“Oh,”Namjoon’s lips curled into a soft smile as he looked to the direction Yoongi was pointing at. He was about to say something but got cut off when a hyperly cheerful Taehyung and Jungkook jumped him out of nowhere.

“Hyung! There you are!”

“Tae! Jungkook!” Namjoon faltered under their grip, “Calm down please and behave, you’re both grown ups and this is a public space.”

“Hyung!” Taehyung gushed, “Tell Jungkookie here that I will be the winner of the event this month!”

“No!” Jungkook protested, “Definitely not! I’ll be the one this time!”

Yoongi watched the two bicker in amusement as namjoon just rolled his eyes.

“You two know that there are no winners right?”

A prolonged silence fell upon the two of them.

“Doesn’t matter!” Taehyung finally declared, “I’ll still win over Jungkookie!”

“There’s no way I’m allowing that!”

“Oh! Yoongi hyung is here too!” Jungkook finally noticed him, “hey hyung!”

“Hey,” Yoongi acknowledged them with a chuckle, “I see that you two are at it again.” 

“I’m offended,” Jungkook made an exaggerated face, his hand clutching his chest.

“This calls for a lamb skewer treat!” Taehyung yelled beside him, rushing forth to link his arm with Yoongi’s. But before the younger could jump him, Namjoon grabbed him by his collar and stopped him.

Taehyung and Jungkook, two art students who also freelanced part time are regulars at the monthly event. Thus making themselves familiar with Namjoon and the group. With every opportunity they get, the more time they spend at the venue or the restaurant itself which also has a small house at the back, dedicated as a workspace for artists to hang around and just simply work.

“Now, now,” He chided at them, “Hyung has work unlike you two, now if you’ll leave him alone, he’ll go back to it.”

Throwing his arms around their shoulders, Namjoon turned them around and dragged them away.

“See you later hyung,” He waved to Yoongi, “Have a good time.”

“You too,” Yoongi waved back, a small smile playing on his lips. 

Once the trio was out of sight, Yoongi slumped his shoulders and turned around to look in your direction.

Gone. 

The area where you were standing moments ago now was empty and the only thing left to commemorate your presence was the deep blue of your paintings. Yoongi couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but there was something about your paintings that drew him to them. Like a siren singing her song to the unsuspecting sailors, pulling them towards her. And all he could do was to step back and let the vastness drown him in like a tsunami. He snooped around the area a bit, clicking some pictures here and there, before he left to look around the rest of the exhibit. And somewhere in the back of his head,unbeknownst to him, a ghost of your presence lingered.

A faint blue swimming within the depths of pitch black.

#yoongi x reader #btsbookclub #kwritersworldnet #yoongi scenarios #yoongi angst #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #member x reader #yoongi fanfic #bts fanfic #bts yoongi #bts fanfiction #yoongi series #bts au #bts au fanfic

[wizardrywilting]

my favorite quotes from give me silence

ch. 1:  Let her rephrase, a very pretty Muggle girl named Eloise Mary Howard. --- It should be noted that Lydia was mentally compiling her will. --- Arthur Weasley was running towards her, dressed in some combination of a pantsuit and clown costume. --- Immediately, they covered the pranking product they’d been working on with a quilt, this catching it on fire. --- The twins snapped their gazes to each other, then jumped up and grasped hands. They jumped, the wooden floor thudding beneath them. By the time they had finished cheering and jumping, Mrs. Weasley had hollered at them twice, Percy yelled four times, and Lydia was blushing. --- Fred set his chin in his hand. “Tell us everything .” --- “Ginny! You don’t knock on strangers’ doors!” --- (Yes, Colin did get a photo of Neville licking a napkin, stress written on his face. It was hilarious.) --- “You’re the oldest of us, which means you’re the responsible ones.” The twins looked horrified at the idea, and Lydia laughed herself silly. --- Even though it was so cute and honestly, the fur would be cheaper to knit than yarn was - that is to say, on the way back home Chio had already shed enough for them each to have a handful of fur. --- Neville had glitter on his eyebrows, and he was attempting to blink it away from his eyes, face contorting in funny ways. Chio’s fur was doused in blue and purple glitter. Lydia herself had glitter in a smattering of multicolored freckles across her nose and cheeks.  ---

ch. 2:  “If you need me to pick the liquor cabinet’s lock I know how.” --- Mrs. Weasley sighed. “Did they break a window?”  “Uh...We fixed it?”

---

Where Lydia came from, albeit not a traditional family, you learned knife tricks and pressure points to incapacitate someone.

---

“I know. We just never see eye to eye.”

 “No one can meet your eye, you’re too tall.”

---

 “Have good, British dreams, Lydia.”

---

But we’re not...not that.”

 “Of course not, she’s only thirteen. But dear, perhaps you should acknowledge that you fancy her. Merlin knows we all noticed.”

---

It was, quite frankly, concerning. Was this a heart attack?

---

Fred was chuckling, the prat. “Just glad to see you, his brain cells have given up. Wait a minute.”

---

Was she seriously apologizing for a hug? What?

---

“Merlin, I miss you. It was so boring with all the boys. I think I lost some estrogen.”

---

 “Lydia, love, you look like a pixie.”

---

ch.3:

She had wanted to stay behind and ask a few questions, maybe pull out her pocket knife, the usual sort of thing, when she noticed Neville struggle to stand, shaking like a fucking tree branch during a tornado.

---

“Neville, I would make God bleed for you.”

---

Were they twice her size? Yes. Would she still rip them a new one? Absolutely.

---

What right did a little kid with blood in her teeth and something called an ele-friend have to her heart?

---

Madam Pomfrey was smiling at her. Lydia didn’t like it.

---

Sighing, Madam Pomfrey faced Lydia again. “As you were deflecting?”

---

It was a nice painting, surprisingly well done. Lydia’s face was in the foreground, getting smacked in the face by Natalie’s wand, while the girl herself was cheering in the background. The blood on her face was surprisingly realistic. Up in the top left corner, Natalie’s attackers were out cold, various painted injuries littering their bodies.

Lydia felt strangely warm.

---

Lydia beamed. “It’s more like insane. To be stupid you have to have brains. Luckily, I left mine in the dorm today.”

---

 “You called her Minnie.”

Lydia quickly realized her mistake.

 “N-No, I didn’t!”

 “You did,” they sang, “You called her Minnie! We’re rubbing off on you!”

---

Poppy smiled and thus began their weekly gossip. She did so love this child. If only she could tell her.

---

ch. 4:

As with every other Halloween, really the day must be cursed, things go to shit.

---

That does beg the question, why are magical people so determined to risk their lives? Is it a universal thing?

---

Was it petty? Absolutely. Had she gotten caught yet? Of course not, who did you take her for, Parkinson?

---

Harry shrieked like a mandrake, and Lydia quickly sent a spell to silence him.

---

“You. You’re a girl.”

She raised her eyebrow at the log-turned-Sirius-Black. “And you’re not a dog anymore. I’m glad we’ve established that.”

---

He paled a little at her smile, and stepped backwards. “I’ll uh, I got nothing. Oh, look, Sirius! Let’s shift focus to him.”

---

Something seemed to click. “So you’re the kid that sent me a letter with threats.”

---

“First of all, you’re terribly hard to kill, Harry,” Lydia sighed, shifting to sit more directly in front of the fire, “Secondly, think about this. There’s a couple hundred more students than normal, and everyone thinks the kids underage are safe, because why would Dumbledore’s magic ever be faulty? There’s a fourteen year old kid, he looks pretty defenseless, especially now that he’s been lulled into a false sense of security. He probably thinks he’s safe, with the age spell and loads more people that could protect him if Voldemort gets inside Hogwarts again. This would be the perfect time to strike - lots of people to blame, a tournament that could be found at fault, and an old man’s magic coincidentally not working. I’m just saying, if someone’s been after you for awhile and hasn’t succeeded...now’s the time.”

Sirius chuckled nervously. “You’re not a Slytherin are you?”

---

“Are they being mean again?”

 “Who’s they? I don’t know anyone named They. What a weird name, They-”

---

Aria sighed and flopped onto a space between the bridge’s arch where there was a bench. Colin grabbed her elbow so she didn’t do something stupid like fall through. That had to be a safety hazard, right? Was there no safety inspector for Hogwarts?

---

It seems like Ginny was going to get to try out that new boils curse she’d just learnt after all.

---

It was very hard being a Triwizard contestant. Well, that was kind of a lie, and Cedric didn’t lie. Unless it was to tell his dad he was excited for a Ministry job, that is.

---

There were downsides to being a Triwizard Champion too, of course.

-There’s barely any time for friends.

-No alone time.

-Mum cries whenever she sees you, you’re not sure if she’s proud or scared.

-There’s potential for trauma, but hey, it’s writing material.

-You could die or be seriously injured. You’re trying not to think about that.

-The other Hogwarts champion was entered without their own free will and now might be getting bullied and you feel overwhelmed with the guilt.

---

“Cut ‘im some slack, Lyn. He’s got so much to worry about. His adoring fans, for example.”

---

She slugged his arm. “Don’t get smart with me, your job is to be pretty. It’s Lydia’s job to be smart.”

---

George nodded at the three Hufflepuffs. “Pretty Boy, Pretty Boy’s friends.”

---

 “I stand by what I said, purple glitter jazzes up my comforter.”

---

 “Lydia, how are we gonna get down six floors?”

Lydia snorted. “Prayer, Colin. I’m personally praying to Yoshi.”

---

“You know you need the sleep, young lady. Now, fret until ten o’clock.”

As Madam Pomfrey left, covering the snoozing Colin with a blanket, she heard a mutter. “I don’t fret.”

---

ch. 5:

Heidi glared, picking up her cup full of ice cubes and popping one into her mouth with a loud crunch.

---

“Might as well break the rules for a good cause, right?”

---

Ginny gasped. “Oh no, am I gay? I feel gay.”

---

George is running away from the Durmstrang students, and I should go save him before he gets mauled. I told him not to charm their hair and skin orange, but he didn’t listen.

---

Oh, is that Hermione sounding disappointed? Surprising.

---

Glancing to where Alicia and Katie had been flirting all afternoon, she winked.

---

“I set the books to become inanimate again when he apologized to Hermione.”  “He, ah, refused to until blood started dripping into his socks.”

---

“he won’t let me go with Priscilla.”

Ginny leaned across the table. “You mean Lee’s tarantula?”

Lee nodded. “Match made in heaven, I say. But you know how it is, star crossed lovers and all.”

Ginny blinked very slowly for a moment and then left for the Ravenclaw table, shaking her head. 

---

 “Our little snake.”

 “Already sneaking around the rules at such a young age.”

 “I’m fifteen! ”

 “Our little-”

 “-tiny baby rebel. My, how they grow up.”

 “Just yesterday you were learning manipulation. And now, you’re sneaking into a dance.”

---

Finally, George said, “What’s the solution? I’m begging you Lydia, help me.”

She stared him in the face and said, “Aren’t beggars usually on their knees?”

---

 “New plan, because you’re as graceful as Hagrid’s skrewts.”

---

“This is your karma for that idiotic stunt with the dragon.”

 “Are you ever letting that go?”

 “I will when you stop flirting with Death.”

 “I don’t flirt, I tease. There’s a difference.”

---

“Hey Freddie, do you think your mum would be upset if I told her I want to drop out?”

 “Do you?”

 “Kind of. We could get a head start on that joke shop of yours.”

 “With what money?”

She shrugged, finally tearing her gaze back to his. “I guess how all poor people get money - struggling. It's just...I want to be with you and George, where nobody else matters.”

---

ch. 6:

She hoped Luna liked the earrings made from orange skins, it seemed her style and had made Lydia’s fingers sting when juice seeped into a few paper cuts.

---

Ginny barely gave her finger guns before she was sprinting.

---

“Is that allowed?”

 “Probably not,” Colin admitted, then shrugged. “But since when do we adhere to those silly things?”

---

 “Hi, you’re that scary snow white girl Colin’s always talking about, right?”

---

“Ready to piss off some purebloods?”

Ginny grinned like she had just hexed someone. “Oh Lydia. I was born to piss of purebloods.”

---

The night hasn’t gone devastatingly wrong as of yet, and Lydia supposes that’s all she could expect without sacrificing her soul or something.

---

Lydia briefly wonders if she’s just doomed Hogwarts to a fate of destruction. She figures it will be fine. Probably. Maybe.

---

A loud bell rings over the music, startling the band so badly a tambourine gets thrown and hits Professor Snape in his hooked nose.

---

Lydia cuffed his shoulder. “I know damn well your mum didn’t raise you to ignore a beautiful girl, Ron Weasley!”

---

They were all rushed to bed as soon as they got back to the Burrow, the car having malfunctioned and it already being near dawn by time Mr. Weasley learned they were accidentally in the Netherlands rather than England. (How that happened Lydia didn’t know. She’d fallen asleep against George’s shoulder after the fifth hour driving.)

---

She pauses in her unwrapping a little, and she mentally screams.

Look, she’s paranoid and mind reading is possible.

---

  ‘No way!’

 ‘Shut up.’

 ‘How come you fancy him and not me?’

 ‘Shut up!’

---

She began to mentally sing. ‘LA LA LA LA.’

---

ch. 7:

George had the big mouth, and often didn’t bother listening. It was as if he had one functioning ear, and he simply didn’t bother to use it.

---

The things he’d seen...it made him want to set something in fire, or smash something. Neither were an option though, as his mum really liked their curtains and dishes, so he stewed in the feeling.

---

This is how she should be - chasing him with giggles and hexes falling from her lips.

---

“ Ced got high and went swimming with his egg so the task is probably something to do with water. “

---

Sirius, honestly, is not having a good day. Or a good thirteen years, really. The things he looks forward to are rats, pets from nice villagers, and seeing his godson.

---

Ron snorted. “You reckon they think we’re all going in the cave to snog - OW, Hermione!”

---

“Your idiot godson - sorry, totally intelligent and not at all stupid godson -

---

Harry is pouting, and it’s the cutest goddamn thing Sirius has ever seen.

---

As Lydia runs to catch up with the other three, Sirius can hear Hermione demanding what the letter said, and Lydia saying, “If I told you I’d have to kill you. May I tell you?”

---

ch. 8:

She didn’t regret it, a little suspicion of authority figures was healthy.

---

“I’m surprised you weren’t born on a broomstick.”

George sighed with faux disapproval. “I wish I’d been.”

---

“No, you’re pretty...uh, good. You’re pretty good. You don’t have any...toothpaste.”

She laughed again, and George prayed for a sinkhole.

---

He fancied Lydia, and he was totally screwed.

Lydia was by his side every day of the year, basically.

She spent summers at the Burrow, save for those in the States, and they went to school together!

Oh Merlin. If his siblings (read: Ginny) found out they’d be insufferable! No. She couldn’t find out.

---

Katie grabbed her arm and pulled Lydia to her own chest, telling Alicia, “Love, time for Bear Protocol.”

Alicia, apparently doing what Bear Protocol meant, kicked Lee. “Bear Protocol. Now.”

Immediately, the debate cut off, and the twins slid close together, blocking anyone seeing Lydia from behind them. Lee did the same from her right side, and the three Chaser girls did so on her left.

---

 “Why aren’t you in class - oh goodness, what’s this?” Professor McGonagall, for her part, looked about as alarmed as one could make her.

---

Professor Flitwick simply levitated her and told Professor McGonagall, “Alert her professors she won’t be in lessons today, won’t you? I’m sure Poppy will want to keep her for quite a while.

Professor McGonagall sighed slightly but nodded, mumbling something that said an awful lot like, “Attached much?”

ch. 9:

Fred is pretty sure the detention was just for appearances sake, because when they got to Professor Flitwick’s classroom he had pretended to be disappointed, but when Lydia smiled at him he had smiled back.

They had practiced charms Fred is pretty sure weren’t supposed to be taught unless paid extra Galleons for, and he gave them all snacks.

---

“Madam Pomfrey is currently with someone else. She’ll be available tomorrow, or when she finds time.”

George obviously was strung out, because he snapped, “Get Pomfrey!”

 “Madam-”

 “Pomfrey will make an exception, Lydia isn’t a normal patient.”

 “I really doubt-”

Ginny sneered. “Doubt a little less, or you’re getting boils in places cream can’t reach!”

---

“ Mam .” She cried out, and Madam Pomfrey pulled Lydia forward so the girl could grab onto the woman.

---

And if later on Professor Flitwick found and joined them? Well, no one needed to know.

---

#nsca #favorite nsca quotes #Lydia McBrien #give me silence #gms #no second chances allowed

[ohgoddard]

Fist of Fire.7.

The sky was a crisp and light blue that day. Children laughed and ran alongside the national mall, with their parents shortly behind them. The crowds were filled and packed along the streets, as the President was soon expected to come down to them in his motorcade. The city of Washington D.C. was as tranquil as it could possibly be.

“SHS Check in, perimeter callouts.” Stationed along the street and in their work uniforms were the 12 members of Laurens SHS. Dressed in simple three piece suits, all the members were hidden in plain sight. This was an important mission, the most important in their running as the Laurens SHS. Victor had gone to many meetings and contract bidding competitions to get this position, and if successful, the company and all involved would be set for life. “Eldritch, all clear.” Victor himself was not in the crowd, but with the President himself. The image of Helios was often enough to deter any wannabe villain or criminal. “Scythe, all clear.” “Huntsman and Meteor, clear.” The crowds were roaring as their President turned the corner and began the last stretch of his return home. Inside the car, no one was for certain what was being discussed. But no doubt it was about the “Quirk Ethics and Governance” conference he just came from, which Helios also attended. “Snowthrone, all clear.” “Breakerx2, all clear.” All was going smoothly. The Job was going off without a hitch. But a thought rested in the back of every member’s head. The crowd was cheering and throwing streamers. The President had been away for months from his own country, and had been championing the rights of those with quirks on the international stage. Those with quirks were still being classified as outlaws, so they were outside the protections of the government. The President helped fix that. “Inside team reports are all good. Missing two reports.”  Inside the car, Victor was dressed in his Hero uniform. A powerful white and gold color scheme ran up and down his button up jacket and pants, being capped off with brilliant red hair. He adjusted his reading glasses as he played with the President’s young daughter who was also in the car. “Mr.President, I do hope your stay with us was enjoyable.” The President looked over at Helios and chuckled. “The best I've had yet. I might even permanently hire you. Not a single thing has happened.” Helios gave a small laugh. He turned back to the President’s daughter. “I do hope you also liked hanging out with these heroes!” The little girl looked up at Helios and gave a toothy grin, with some teeth missing. “You guyses are so cool!!! I wanna be like you when I grow up!”  Helios grinned, but was stopped from continuing his conversation any further. A static buzz in his ear, followed up by dangerous words.

“Reverse, Tapout, problem.”

The sky of D.C. were bright and blue. The parking garage four miles away, however, was not.

Tapout flew forty feet into a concrete pillar, cracking it. Reverse was not too far in front of him. His hands were raised, and he had many cuts on his arms already. In front of him was a man dressed in a wife beater and welding goggles with a purple mohawk. “I’m tired of all this. You really think you could attack me? THE San Andreas?” He let out a maniacal laugh. Reverse straightened his back. He put his hand through his hair, and let out a small laugh.”oh please. Don’t think we were anything but more than you. We just had to report something in before we ripped you to shreds. You wanna take this one Tapout?” Reverse looked behind him and saw a hand raise from the pile of rubble where Tapout was. “You go on ahead, I'm a bit occupied.” Reverse turned back to San Andreas, and cracked his knuckles. After the last snap, he was already touching noses with him. San Andreas ducked his first punch, then punched the ground. Spikes shot up from the concrete and caught Reverse’s hand, cutting a gnarly gash into it. Reverse wind-stepped through the spikes, and threw a left hook. Even though San Andreas slid to the right, the force behind the punch broke the sound barrier. San Andreas weaved behind Reverse and dropped a huge block of stone from the ceiling onto Reverse. As the dust cleared, he saw that Reverse was not there. “I got you! You weakling I got you! Now nothing can stop us! The New World Order! The Nation of those with Quirks and nothing more!” Reverse came flying out of nowhere and delivered a double kick into San Andreas’s chest. He went flying out of the parking garage and into another building. The force of his impact left a huge crater, with a pair of arms and legs dangling out. “This is Reverse,” he said as he touched his ear, “The Villain we encountered was named San Andreas. He implied there might be more, be advised.”

Helios started to talk back, but Reverse was distracted. He heard clapping come from around the corner. Out from it came The Planeteer. “Planeteer? What are you doing here? You change your mind.” The Planeteer was dressed in a similar Three Piece suit , but different from the ones the Laurens SHS was wearing. His was green and grey all over, and he had a cane for some reason. “Reverse, you did it again. You stopped a villain from disrupting the peace. Bravo, really.” The Planeteer then raised his wrist to his face and spoke, “First step complete, initiating phase 2.” At the end of that, The Planeteer tapped his cane twice against the ground, and the sky turned orange. Instantly. “You two will be the first victims of my Vision.” And then suddenly the parking garage was gone, replaced with air as Tapout and Reverse were now free falling, the Planeteer gone.

Elsewhere, the city was on fire. “Huntsman and Meteor, fighting Guang He.” “Eldritch, fighting Warcross.” “Breaker here, helping evac alongside the inside team.” “Snowthrone, putting out fires. Scratch that, fighting Molten.” Helios watched silently as he saw Scythe get thrown onto the hood of the Presidential car, before dodign the punch of what looked like a huge werewolf. He calmly turned to the President and spoke, “Sir I think it is our best interest to leave.” Helios pointed to the roof and it disintegrated into the light. 

Reverse and Tapout were beginning to see what the city was turning into. Still miles above the ground, they saw the fires starting to rise from the buildings and chaos in the streets. Explosions were going off around the capitol building, and numerous figures in black suits ran out and suddenly disappeared. “TAPOUT,” Reverse yelled through the wind, “SOMETHING IS GOING ON HERE!” “NO SHIT IDIOT! HOW ARE WE GOING TO STOP FALLING?!” Reverse struggled against the wind and pulled his hand to his ear. “THIS IS REVERSE AND TAPOUT WE ARE ABOUT 1100 FEET ABOVE THE WASHINGTON MONUMENT AND WE NEED HELP!” At the end of that broadcast, a beam of gold shot up from the streets and grabbed them mid air, and brought them to the ground. The caster of said beam was Ribbon, another Laurens SHS hero. “Reverse, Tapout what's going on?!” “Planeteer betrayed us, this is all his doing.” “What?! How?!” “HOW INDEED.” A voice echoed from above.

Helios was sprinting in the streets, shooting beams of light from his arms. The President and his service were not too far behind, moving him out of the way when explosions and debris fall or go off near him. But they all stopped and looked up when they heard that voice. “No..” Helios uttered. The ground shook and a crack opened up, consuming most of the National Mall. The President and his Service were caught on a piece of falling rock, and were taken too quickly for Helios to act. In his hands, the President’s daughter screamed as her father fell into a molten lava mass pushing itself up from the tear. Helios scanned the horizon and saw Reverse, Tapout, and Ribbon pulling people from the rubble. He flew over there, dodging bolts of lightning firing from the newly appeared dark clouds in the sky.

“Reverse,’ Helios said as he landed down near him, ‘take this girl and run. Go now! NOW!” Helios yelled as he thrust the girl into Reverse’s arms. He nodded then sprinted off. Reverse left D.C. within minutes. “Tapout, I need you to - “ “HALT, VICTOR. YOUR HEROISM WILL NOT SAVE YOU TODAY!” The heroes turned to see a figure floating in the air, staying in one space as if standing on nothing. The Planeteer stood above the gaping maw of the tear, with molten lava pouring out. “TODAY I INACT MY REVENGE. YOU WILL PAY FOR NEVER LISTENING TO ME,MY IDEAS, MY VISION!” As he spoke, the lava began to rise, and started to swirl. Soon, a tornado of molten rock began to envelop the air around him. Helios took to the sky and began firing beams of pure light at him, disintegrating pockets here and there of rock,but they quickly filled again. The lava tornado began to move, tearing up the buildings of the Smithsonian. The winds began to pick up, and they were drawing everything around into it. People caught up in them flew into the burning inferno, along with piles of rubble. Helios flew around, trying to catch as many as he could while still shooting at the tornado. Tapout was catching them in midair and pulling others behind cover while Ribbon snatched those in danger’s way. “YOU WILL LOATHE THE DAY YOU DENIED ME!” The ground shook, and more and more lava came gushing out.

Helios stopped flying for a moment, to stare down the inferno. He put his arms up to the sky and beams of sunlight began to poke through the orange sky and dark clouds. They began collecting in his hands and then..

Bolts of sunlight ,akin to lightning, began striking the tornado, tearing chunks of it off. Faster than any attack ever seen before, and devastating. “Fool.” Helios did not notice in time, turning around only to see it. A wave of molten lava the size of a tsunami, overtook Helios in one giant swoop. When the wave lowered from the sky, Helios was no longer there. The cuts in the sky where he pulled sunlight from now closed. And not a sign he was there to begin with existed anymore.

“Finally. Finally! MY VISION WILL BE REALIZED! I WILL RULE WITH ALL-” “YOU BASTARD!” Tapout shouted from the ground, loud enough and with fury to break the enhanced thunderous voice of the Planeteer. Tapout began to sprint towards him, screaming. Tears were falling off his face and evaporating, the heat boiling. Planeteer pointed down at Tapout running at him, and two giant hands of rock flew from the ground and narrowly missed the hero. Planeteer raised his hand and the ground itself began to rise, creating boulders that Tapout hopped to and from. 

“YOU KILLED HIM!” Tapout threw a right punch, and around the Planeteer one thousand punches appeared. The Planeteer was expecting this though, and had formed a barrier of clear quartz around him. “You thought I'd be easy to kill? You always underestimated me.” He made a backhand motion and the wind itself slapped Tapout away. “Looking down on me.” Tapout, on the ground and bleeding, looked up with pure vitriol. “NOW IT'S MY TURN TO LOOK DOWN ON YOU!” Planeteer raised his hand and moved to slam it down. In the air, debris rose and started to melt, turning into molten lava. As he threw it down, Tapout came from the ground with the mightiest punch ever thrown in American History.

Tapout bounced from the ground with an uppercut, and put forward all energy he had left.

The debris in the air cooled and disintegrated, the clouds and sky were cleared. The fires were all put out. Any and all people who were not behind cover were blown away. And The Planeteer was seen flying away at 100 miles per hour. What happened is still discussed when the question of “can x hero beat y hero in a fight”. Tapout came from the ground, and delivered one million punches at once to the body of The Planeteer, with enough force to cause biblical events.

Tapout then looked up, spit on the ground, then passed out.

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

“That,” Reverse spoke with finality, “was what really happened in D.C.” He got up and stretched his back, and looked out the window. The sun had long set, and the city of Atlanta was no less busy. “Tapout delivered what is still called “the end all punch” and defeated the Planeteer. But not before he got to your father. After that, and numerous court visits, the Laurens SHS was dissolved and we all went our separate ways. Tapout said he was going to go out of his way to end all those who had a connection to Planeteer and his New World Order.” He turned around and looked Jade in the eyes.”I think the Planeteer is still out there. And he just killed Tapout. And he will likely come after you, the last connection to the man who was better than him.”

Jade sat in her desk shocked, and Reverse walked out the door, turning off the light.

“I’d get some rest for tomorrow. You know what you’re up against.”

But will I be ready?

#FoF:og #original writing #original story #originalwriting #original #original female character #creative #creative writing #superhero #superhero story

[cavitymagazine]

𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔧𝔞 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤

There’s a painting of it that you’ve probably seen somewhere. Pointillist. A dirt road and a cornfield. A parked green tractor. And, the imagery discordant, a dejected ninja slouching beside the tractor, staring down at his limply held blade as though it’s the ultimate substantiation of meaninglessness. This painting’s been reproduced, parodied, enshrined, and displayed all over the globe. It’s at the Detroit Institute of Art, presently, in fact.

Equation from a crypto-meteorological textbook:

91-101 kph [wind speed] + oblique, angular shadow systems [precise configuration/density: UNKNOWN] + misty [optional?] rain/overcast sky + uprooted bamboo trees and/or bamboo chips/strips/material [exact amount UNKNOWN] = ninjitstorm [perhaps]

Crypto-Beaufort Scale entry for ninjitstorm:

Beaufort Number: 10

Name: Chimerical Gale or Conjuror Storm

Wind Speed: 58-62 mph [91-101 kph]

Description: Considerable structural damage occurs; ninja assassins manifest

The homely Nebraska town of Sumner has a general store called General Store – it’s that kind of agrestic. People and corn. And more corn. Grain sacks. A poky video store. Grousing tractors.

Of course this uneventfulness is a late and lamented portraiture of Sumner: it is the way it was before the squall of gleaming katana.

One advanced afternoon in the mid 1990s it rains ninja on Sumner. Like homicidal hailstones, they somersault and roll and flying-kick out of tornadic funnels. Like armed sleet.

It marks the first and only occurrence of this phenomenon in the U.S. It’s a huge moment in Weather History.

Day 1: Chaos and horror. Eleven townsfolk are struck down; some livestock are poisoned by blow darts tipped with something more lethal than cyanide, others are gorily ornamented with shuriken. Green tractor paint obscured by arterial spray. Sumner’s roads go redly moist.

Law enforcement refuses to step in. Here’s an excerpt from the press release the Batch County Sheriff’s Department issued the day of the killer atmospheric conditions:

“While this department mourns the lives lost in Sumner this afternoon, the deaths, according to FEMA meteorologists, are no more ‘criminal’ than, for example, hurricane or mudslide casualties. We don’t arrest natural disasters; we don’t prosecute tsunamis. Sorry.

FEMA experts advise residents to stay indoors until a solution is reached. Crisis managers are in talks with Tokyo climatologists…”

Day 2: Terrorized townies hole up inside their houses and barns. Doors are needlessly barricaded and boarded over. (The aerial ninja confine their sneaky, homicidal industry to the outside world, in compliance with some meteorological principle only the atmosphere kens.) Sumner fathers cradle shotguns, uselessly. (Bullets have no effect on thunderstorms, squalls, or pneumatic assassins.) The town on Day 2 is ghostly and coiled, tense. Black-masked ninja zip in and across Sumner’s roads like darts: horizontal black blurs… a deadly twinkle of metal… then: gone. Hidden again.

Ain’t seen one all afternoon.

That don’t mean they ain’t out there.

My nephew googled it.

What’d it say?

Not much. Lingo for ‘em’s some Japanese word. In America they call ‘em Dudikoffs. Sounds Russian.

That don’t help, Carl.

Carl’s dumber ‘an shit on a post.

Eat me, Baker.

Ain’t never happened here in the U.S. Not ever. Last one happened in the Ukraine in ’94. Bunch in Japan in the ‘80s.

On Day 2 the only deaths are an ambling wiener dog cleanly sectioned by a sword and a few chickens, their clucking heads crunched via nunchaku, the weapon’s rawhide link sticky with fowl blood.

Day 3-5: A predawn charge overtures a full day of mass assassination almost as frenetic and ravaging as the first. This spasm of killing, however, slows over days 4 and five. The manifestation still beheads anyone or anything not under a roof, human or stock, but a certain berserk spirit seems to dissipate noticeably. The slaying isn’t as enthusiastic.

Theories abound, most of them infused with a hope contoured by acute desperation; they’re near-mythic, these theories.

Research into feline predatory patterns/Marquette University/1996:

“Our team stuck cats – housecats and ferals, both – into cages: one cat per cage. Then we simply dumped mice into these cages with the cats. Dozens of mice. The mice, of course, had nowhere to hide.

“The pattern was conspicuous right away: the cat frenzies, eyes big as dinner plates, followed by a maelstrom of claw action.

“Every cat, though, without variance, did this:

“They massacred the mice frantically, as though the mice could escape or we might take them away any second.

“Then, somewhere around Mouse Victim #14 (it’s a 12-14 range, this phenomenon, though we’ve seen it go as high as 16; never lower than 12), the cat just mellows, stops killing. Every time.

“Does the cat get bored around kill #14? Is its bloodlust sated at or around that magic number? Or does it merely realize the mice are trapped and it need not rush its rampage?

“Or… or, more interestingly, does kitty experience some kind of lynxian existential crisis? Does Garfield gaze dejectedly at his bloody, dripping claws as though they’re the substantiation of meaninglessness and say to itself, figuratively, ‘What’s the use?’

“Does Toonces pause and ask itself, ‘What the fuck is the point of me, anyway?’ Unless someone speaks cat, we’ll probably never know.”

Day 6-21: Days 6-21 play out as a more salient, more fizzly copy of days 4 and five.

The murders diminish in both number and frequency.

The mute ninjaforms meet an apparent corrosion of their eager bloodthirstiness. Their hearts are no longer in it, it seems.

The ninja seem bored. Or disillusioned. Sometimes a ripe townie will stroll right past a ninja, practically daring it to cut him down, practically volunteering, and the airborne assassin will merely look down at the dirt road, as though ashamed.

Some pundits attribute the change to Sumner’s population’s obstinacy, its grim insistence on resuming business-as-usual on Day Five. On 5, farmers rouse their slumbering tractors, church service is held, and a semi-normalcy pre-ninjastorm is willed into being. Granted, ninja bashed and hacked a not-insignificant number of townies during this time of unsheltering, sure, but the folks of Sumner were through hiding, come hell or ninja.

Day 22: A milestone in the Sumner ninjitstorm: 22 marks the day of the final killing of a town resident by a manifestation. It’s an awkward kill, like the last twitch of some fading convulsion: a meaningless reflex. Miss Maple, 83 years old. She was exiting the post office. Three ninjaforms were milling around out front, by the office’s decorative trough and hitching posts. None of the ninja had attacked in days. As Miss Maple passes the trio, nodding a “How do you do?”, one ninja flinches, and the flinch clumsily morphs into an instinctive strike. A jerky nunchaku stick cracks Miss Maple’s brittle skull. Red spurts out through gray scalp. Blood spatters her lavender shawl. She dies in the dirt road, her seizurely throes the only movement. It’s pathetic, that last killing. Dishonorable. Ninja wear masks, but still it’s as though the humiliation can be read on the assassin’s face: a child caught in the act of doing something stupidly cruel for no good reason.

Day 23-Day 60:

Crazy to say it.

Well, shit. You want it to go back to the way it was last month?

‘Course not. Hell.

I know what Carl’s gettin’ at though. Yessir. It’s glum. They’re like reminders of somethin’ sad.

Somethin’ bygone.

Yeah, “gone” is right. Gone are a bunch of decent folk gettin’ stabbed and decapitated for no goddamn reason. Are y’all forgettin’ that?

They are weather, Dan. We gonna hate somethin’ natural forever? It’s like stayin’ mad at the tornado that took your pickup.

Like stayin’ sore at the scorpion for stingin’.

That weather took my wife’s eye out with a dag-gum throwin’ star, Baker.

Settle down y’all.

How much’s a bag of them Corn Nuts?

The picante ones? Them’re good.

Well, listen. Them ninja, they’re here. And, ill or good, they’re ours. That’s how this town is. They’re part of us now.

Harmless, the ninja of Sumner slouch, their all-black suits vivid in the dayglare. They mill a lot, doing nothing – mopey shadows.

A gradual homogeny blooms: the town, its placidness, its standardized, cyclic normalcy, first tames and then assimilates the disorder of ninja, like a gobbling Norman Rockwell that quickly swallows up and absorbs any rogue or transgressive brushstrokes.

No one likes a sad ninja. Sad ninja are worse than your ordinary sad person. They’re oppressive.

The ninjaforms go from skulking assassins to lethargic killers; then to dejected, bland objects of pity – voiceless panhandlers, like stray cats or confused urchins.

Lost in despair, pouting between the town’s squat buildings or brooding in silent circles behind the video store, the ninja, finally, become the sullen pillars of the Sumner community.

Day 61-Present:

The ninja are as much a part of Sumner now as the cattle. As fixed and integral as the cornstalks. More so, maybe.

Sumner’s a tourist destination now; a very disappointing one. Morose ninja contemplating the dirt get boring fast. Tourists snap a few photos of the incongruous weather-forms, grab a slab of Marge’s Diner’s “famous” banana cream pie, and drive back to Florida or California or wherever tourists come from.

There is talk of penning up the ninja and making them a petting zoo. They’re docile as sleepy goats now, after all. Sometimes tourists’ kids will run over and pet one of them or tug at one’s pant leg. It gave people ideas.

Sometimes sympathetic Sumner grandmothers, overcome by pity, will do something like pet one of the glum ninja, stroking its hooded, hung head, extending a solace that isn’t receivable.

Story and artwork by Will Bernardara Jr.

[Author Bio]

Will Bernardara Jr. is the author of the novella America from voidfront. 

#altlit #freewriting #americanliterature #writerscorner #ninja #readit #submit #read #alternativelit #shortstory #newshortstory

[afewmarvelousthoughts]

Dark Side: Part 2

Master: @afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin

Pairing: Steve X Reader

Summary: You expected Captain America to be a lot of things… You didn’t expect him to be anything like you. As it turns out, America’s Golden Boy may be more than a little tarnished.

Warnings: Violence, blood, some feels

A/N: This bad boy is for @littledarlinhavefaithinme ‘s Marvelous Writing Challenge!

Lol, two parts. Who the fuck do I think I am? In all fairness, I feel like @littledarlinhavefaithinme knows my work well enough to know that I’m a wordy bitch. 

Hope y’all enjoy!

Tags are open!

You give yourself one more look in the mirror. The black strappy Dior high-low dress is just the right balance of sexy and classy. The gold Louboutins bring the perfect level of sparkle. And your red lips pick up the sole of the heels creating a flawless balance.

It’s not vanity that says you look like a knockout. It’s an indisputable fact. You just wish you were in a state of mind to appreciate it.

Your phone dings alerting you that your driver is waiting. Sighing you plaster your signature carefree smirk on your lips, grab your coat, clutch, and steel your nerves.

As the car pulls up he’s already at the corner waiting. You’re not the least bit surprised that he showed or that he’s early. Captain America didn’t seem the fashionably late type.

Before getting out you eye him through the tinted window of the Town Car. Despite the late autumn chill in the air, he’s not wearing a coat. Those cool blue eyes scan the area taking in everything. He has his hands shoved in his pockets and… he actually seems like he may be just a smidge nervous. That brings a real smile to your face. How endearing.

Knowing it won’t take him long to spot you, you thank your driver and step out. Immediately he locks on to you. Before meeting him it had been a long time since someone had genuinely managed to surprise you. Once again Steve Rogers does so when a breathtaking smile fills his face upon seeing you.  

“What do ya know,” you quip as you strut up to him, your heels making you just about eye level, “the man does own a suit, tie and all.” Playfully you tug on the dark navy fabric.

Steve scoffs, “You said suit so I assumed the whole ensemble would be expected.”

“Is this Prada?” You eye the perfectly cut lines, mouth watering just a touch. He was a damn fine specimen. “Impressive.”

“Being friends with a Stark does have its benefits.”

“Of that, I have no doubt.” You hold your arm out to him, “Shall we?”

With a crooked smile on his face, he hooks his arm with yours, “Lead the way.”

The restaurant, one of DC’s hottest tickets at the moment, was only about half a block away. As the two of you make your way there heads turn. It’s not just because Captain America is out on a Saturday night either, together you cut an incredible image. Though keeping yourself hidden is usually a part of your M.O. you can’t help but feel a little pride.

There’s no sign above the place, either you knew it was here or you didn’t. As you walk up the door swings open revealing an open, modern, elegant setting.

Steve whispers into your ear, “This is one of those places where you leave hungry at the end isn’t it?”

“I’m almost offended.” One of the hosts takes your coat revealing the thin straps of your dress, your exposed chest, cleavage. Honestly, the thing was almost as criminal as you were.

“Careful there Steven, that’s a great way to catch a fly.” His slightly slack jaw snaps shut, blue eyes narrowing. You wink before turning to follow the hostess leading you to your table.

“It’s Steve,” he grumbles a bit, sounding like an angry boy and not a grown man in a five thousand dollar suit.

A genuine laugh tumbles from your crimson lips as you lazily sit in the proffered chair, legs crossing, the high front of the hem falling just between your thigh highs and holster. His Adam’s apple bobs hard in his throat as he takes his place across from you.

“What can I get you both to drink this evening?” The waiter asks, trying not to gawk, not that you could blame him, you’re sure it’s not every day he has Captain America at his table.

You respond before Steve can even look a the menu, “We’ll take a bottle of Merlot, pick whatever puts the most money in your pocket and,” you pluck a $100 from your clutch, “for your discretion.” He takes it and stares at you for a second. You give him a small wink too, “Thank you.”

“Thank YOU.” With that, he scurries off for the wine.

“Always so generous?” Steve takes a sip of water eyeing you.

“With service employees? Yes.” He raises his brows. “What? Can’t I be a benevolent criminal?”

“Is there such a thing?”

You shrug, “In my experience there is. Some of the most generous people I know make their money in nefarious ways.”

The waiter arrives with your wine. “Thanks,” Steve gives him a smile. As he does a server walks past with a skewer laden with red meat. “What kind of restaurant is this exactly?”

“It’s Brazilian steakhouse inspired.” Those words clearly meant nothing to him. “Basically they walk around and serve you meat until you beg them to stop.”

“Alright,” he nods, “I can get behind that.”

“Figured.” You sip the wine, its excellent. “I may have expensive taste but I grew up far too poor to blow money on four bites of food no matter how delicious.”

He laughs, “Tony took me someplace in New York… Everything was ‘deconstructed,’” he air quotes the word. “I honestly thought it was a joke. I had to stop for a slice after.”

“Yeah. Sounds like some rich kid shit.”

Taking a drink he nods in agreement. “So… not a rich kid.”

“Nope. Purebred third generation trailer trash.”

“From where?” You raise a brow over your glass. “Oh come on. You can read all about me online. I don’t even know your real name. Throw me a bone.”

“Fair.” You sigh, “Oklahoma.”

“Really?!”

“Yup. The land of corn, tornadoes, and disappointment.”

“That bad?”

“Worse,” you grimace and he laughs. “How’s life in DC?”

“Fine, I guess… You’ve probably seen more of it than I have.”

“It’s sad that I think you’re right.” He shrugs. “You could see it ya know?”

“You sound like Romanoff.”

“She sounds like good people.”

“You would probably think that. You’re likely cut from the same cloth.”

The servers come by and you both load up on incredible grilled meat and vegetables. He looks more than a little pleased. Your small talk continues on. It is actually pleasant and you just can’t bring yourself to drop your bomb just yet. Instead, you push it to the back of your mind.

After a bit, you decide to ask, “Any other prying questions for me?”

He looks shocked, “Plenty. But will you answer them?”

“Ask and find out,” your lips curl mischievously.

He slowly chews, a pensive expression on his face. “Alright…” Those blue eyes pierce you as he sips his wine. You feel… seen. It’s not uncomfortable but certainly not something you’re used to. “How do you go from, as you said, trailer trash, to this?” He gestures to you.

You think for a minute. “Determination.”

“That all I get?”

Maybe it’s his melancholy. Maybe is the way he looks in that suit. Regardless of the reason you decide... Fuck it.

“Well… I come from a place where you either get pregnant, get a scholarship, or get dog tags.” You take a sip of wine. “Never been very maternal, wasn’t good enough at anything for a scholarship, so I took door number three. One thing led to another and here we are.”

“YOU were a soldier?!”

“You do know the road from soldier to soldier of fortune is pretty short right?”

“I just… wouldn’t have guessed.”

An almost sad smile flickers across your face before you school your expression. “I will have you know I was a damn good soldier. One of the few women in combat infantry. Would have been special forces if the sexist fucks let me in.”

Steve nods in approval. “What rank?”

“Sargeant.”

Something flashes across his face at that but he says nothing. “How many tours?”

“Three.” His brows rise at this. “What? Said I was good at what I did. Thought that was going to be it for me.”

“What happened?”

You flag the waiter for another bottle of wine before answering. “They said don’t ask don’t tell.” You take a big gulp of wine, “Someone asked. I told.”

He takes a minute to sort that out before he realizes what you’re referring to. It’s just long enough for you to remember that old bitter feeling. “So you’re…”

“I’m all sorts of things, Cap.” You offer him a halfhearted grin. “At the time I happened to be with a woman. Thought she was gonna be it too. Turned out she was in it for the financial stability and good pussy-” he chokes a bit on his wine at that and you burst out laughing. “Anyway, when one of the two was gone so was she.”

“I’m sorry,” he lays his hand between you both.

Playfully you push it off the edge of the table, “Ancient history. Nothing to get mopey over.”

“Yeah. Well, good soldiers shouldn’t be treated as disposable.” Or good pussy, you almost fire back but you think you’ve shocked the old man enough.

“We were disposable.” He looks away from you at that. “Get rid of me there’s more desperate kids signing up every day.”

“Well… I guess that’s true. I was one of those desperate kids at one point too…”

“What were you desperate to get out of?”

He stares off into the distance for a long moment. “I was desperate to get in actually. It… seemed like the right thing to do… Whole world at war and whatnot. But… it was a different time.” Your eyes narrow as he shoves food in his mouth to avoid talking. After a bit he breaks, “What?”

“You’re right, I read all about you online. I’ve seen the before shots, read your biographies… Half of it, most of that golden boy rhetoric, is crap I have no doubt. Now you’re trying to tell me you only wanted to join the army just because it was the right thing… I call bullshit.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” You take a bite studying him. “You’re a fighter. You like the fight. I bet you always have, even when you were getting your ass kicked.”

“How would you know?”

You hold his gaze, “Because I’m the same.” Sighing you take a long drink. “All that wartime machismo and patriotism… you wanted to measure up. Maybe there was a righteous element to it but… yeah, I don’t buy that pure American hero serving his country shit.”

He looks like you slapped him before a smile spreads across his face, it’s a little sad but genuine. “Are your grandparents from Brooklyn by chance?”

You laugh, “Not that I’m aware of. Why?”

“Nothing,” he shakes his head. “You’re not wrong. I, uh… I did have something to prove.”

“Did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Prove it?” So many emotions flicker across his face, you almost feel bad for asking.

“I don’t know honestly. All the people who could answer that are dead…” It takes him a moment to continue, “But… Hydra fell… we won… so I guess there’s that.”

Your stomach tightens and you set your fork down. “Well, this has turned distinctly depressing.” You wave down your waiter, “You still hungry?”

Steve shakes his head. “I’m stuffed. It was delicious.”

“Good.” You fish some money from your bag and put it in the dazed waiter’s hand. It was unquestionably more than your tab. He looks like he’s going to protest but you shut him up with a look. In your line of work you never knew if you’d see the next day and you couldn’t take it with you so why not give it away.

You stand, “Come on.”

At the door they go to fetch your coat, “Actually,” you pause them, “could I pick that up tomorrow?”

“Of course!”

“Thanks.” The air outside is brisk but it’s kind of refreshing.

“Where exactly are we going?” Steve asks as he falls in line behind you. “Do you want my jacket?”

How cute, you smile at him, “I’m good. And we are going to have some fun.”

“Were we not before?” His grin is mischievous.

“Look I know you have a low bar for entertainment. Dinner is nice but it’s not fun.”

After a few blocks, you turn to him, “Do you like dancing?”

“Uh…” Suddenly he looks incredibly uncomfortable. “Not… really…”

“Too bad.” You tug him down an alley, the base notes already hitting your ears.

Just outside the club, he stops, “I really don’t think this is my kind of fun.” Lights flash into the dark alley lighting up the line of people waiting to get in.

“Have you ever been to a club?” You stand your ground, keeping him in place.

“Well… no…”

You lay a hand on his… incredibly solid chest, “Have I led you astray in your assimilation so far?” He rolls his eyes. “No, I haven’t. Trust me.”

“Fine. But I’m not dancing.”

“Sure,” you quip over your shoulder as you pull him to the door.

“Isn’t there a line?” He says in your ear.

“I have the universal VIP pass,” pulling a couple bills from your clutch and passing them to the bouncer who happily lets you in.

The music is so loud vibrating through your whole body. When you glance at Steve the grimace on his face makes a laugh soundlessly burst from you. He glances down and shakes his head, not understanding how this is fun. You pull him toward the dancefloor but he refuses, heading against the wall on the edge of the sea of bodies.

Conceding you hold your hands up and begin moving with the music, hips swaying, arms lifting. It takes moments before someone joins you, his hands sliding over your sides moving just barely. It didn’t matter, it wasn’t him you were interested in.

Steve watches you, occasionally looking at other dancers, the very image of out of place in his suit, arms crossed back leaned against the wall. Maybe this really wasn’t for him… He wasn’t insisting to leave though so you let yourself just feel the music.

After a few songs a woman on one of the raised platforms gets your attention, insisting you come up. It’s not far from Steve’s parking spot so you go with it. The bass starts hard and your bodies press close. You spin her in your arms, her head falls back onto your shoulder as she grinds against you in time with the music. Two men watch close to the platform and she beckons them up.

As you move with one of the men you notice Steve’s stepped away from the wall just a bit, his eyes on you. You hold his gaze. Slowly he makes his way toward your perch. You drop low, ignoring the whoop from your near forgotten dance partner at the move, his hands greedily grasping for you as you raise up. But Steve is at the edge of the platform.

His head is about at your pelvis as you stand before him, body still reacting to the music. You rest your hand on his head, fingers gripping his hair, gently tilting his head back as you swing your hips wide holding onto those blue eyes, flashing with the colors of the lights. His tongue flits out for just a second, moistening his pink lips. Once more you drop with the beat. Your free hand catches his tie as you rise.

Steve’s hands reach up, grabbing you just below your hip bones. As if you weigh nothing he lifts you off the platform setting you in front of him. There’s a self-satisfied look on his face, no doubt over your surprised expression that quickly morphs into a greedy grin.

You run your hands up his torso and over his chest. Slipping a finger under the knot of his tie you tug it lose until it hangs undone. Swaying to the music you undo a few of the buttons on his crisp white shirt, barely grazing the golden chest hair that peeks out. He slides the suit jacket off, tossing it over the crowd, obviously not caring that it’s easily worth two grand. You’d buy him another.

Resting your hands on his hips you coax him to move with the music. Again, he’s full of surprises, getting the hang of it quickly. You turn and press close to him, his hands gliding over you before holding at your swaying hips. Reaching back you hook a hand around his neck, head falling onto his shoulder. There’s nothing but the two of you and the music despite the press of the people around you. His breath on your neck making your heart stutter in your chest.

After two songs you’re about ready to have him right in the middle of this crowded dance floor if he’d let you. As much as you wish that could be the case you know better… you need to get yourself together.

Turning to face him you press your lips close to his ear. His hands run down your back, pulling you tight against him. It takes everything in you to say, “I’m going to the restroom. Be back,” rather than asking if he’d like to fuck you in the restroom. He nods and releases you. Unsurprisingly, he follows, leaning against the wall next to the narrow hall leading to the bathrooms.

You wet a paper towel with cold water, pressing it to your flushing chest and racing pulse. Staring at yourself in the mirror you silently coach yourself to get your head out of your ass. The two of you need to go someplace so you can tell him-

You’re so distracted you don’t notice the person behind you. Until your face slams into your reflection. The assailant lands a blow to the middle of your spine. You cry out, pain blossoming. Whirling you grab their wrist before the knife can plunge into you.

“Bitch you ruin this dress I’ll gut you.” The knife clatters to the floor, your hand twisting the wrist back with a jerk. They swing, fist meeting your jaw. Stumbling they throw you through the swinging door back first. The wall catches you. Reaching under your skirt you pull one of your pistols free and let loose a shot. It misses, barely, despite you hardly aiming. The shock has its desired effect and they’re distracted.  

Screams react to the sound of the shot and you bolt for the exit at the end of the hall. You sprint into the alley for an instant before something sharp and burning buries itself in your upper thigh causing you to drop to your knees. In an instant they’re on you, arm choking you. Without luck, you try to fling them off but they’ve got weight on you and you can’t get purchase.

Your head is beginning to float from lack of oxygen when they’re pulled off you. Falling onto your hands you gasp for air, coughing. Before you can turn they’re thrown down the alley, slamming hard into the dumpster. Seemingly unconscious they slump to the ground.

“Zelda!” Steve kneels before you gripping your shoulders. “Are you ok?!”

You cock an eyebrow, about to make a snarky comment when you see the guy rise to his feet, gun drawn, aimed at Steve. Reflexively you grab the pistol on your other thigh and shoot, aim perfect, the bullet nestled between the man’s brows.

Steve jerks up and stares, noticing the gun as it falls from the man’s grip. His eyes turn back to you, filled with questions. “Better now.” You offer a crooked smile and rise to your feet groaning.

He steadies you as you reach to your leg and pull out the blade. “Fuck,” you hiss between your teeth tossing it to the side. A few civilians are at the mouth of the alley, gawking at the scene. Great.

“I’ve gotta call this in,” he reaches for his phone.

“Of course you do,” you grumble, slipping out of your heels before the right one fills with blood.

-

As you support yourself against the wall, taking the weight off your injured leg, Steve dials Romanoff. He lays out the situation, she assures him it can be dealt with.

“Not the first time an agent’s had a bar fight go bad, Rogers,” she laughs.

“That’s not the situation. We also need a medic, someone has-” he turns to look at you and… of fucking course you’re gone. “Never mind. They’re fine.”

@mywinterwolf @disagreetoagree @breezy1415 @peachthatdrinkslemonade @wonderlandmind4@piensa-bonito @buckysstar @for-the-love-of-the-fandom @siriuslycloudy2 

#steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers angst #LDMWC

[let-it-raines]

Betting on the Bullseye (Part 15)

Summary: Emma Swan loses a bet that means she has to ask her celebrity crush to be her date to her office’s annual fundraising gala. Killian Jones is that celebrity crush. She expects all kinds of humiliation and for her dignity to be completely lost. What she doesn’t expect is for him to say yes.

Rating: Mature

A/N: Remember when this was a one-shot? Ah, those were the days. 

AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

Tag list: @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @wellhellotragic​ @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91@branlovesouat @dreadpirateemma @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @galaxyzxstark @lifeinahole27 @andiirivera @ultimiflos @hollyethecurious @thejollyroger-writer @superchocovian

Deep breath in.

Deep breath out.

It’s what she keeps repeating to herself over and over again as her feet hit against the stair climber. She’s tired, she’s sore, and honestly, she just wants to go home. But she’s also determined to get back into her routine, to get all of her pent-up energy out, and to actually break a sweat doing something other than blow drying her hair.

Someone should really figure out how to make blow drying hair a less hot, physical affair. Maybe she’ll do that and become rich.

If only she knew anything about science or physics or whatever would be required for that.

Doesn’t Dyson make a fancy blow dryer that’s supposed to be like that? She thinks they do, but she also knows that it costs half as much as her rent, which is insane. Also, what the hell are the people who make vacuum cleaners doing making blow dryers?

She’s kind of curious. Maybe she should look into that.

Or maybe she’s just been here for too long and her body is starting to fall apart. She’s pretty much soaked in sweat, and she knows that she’s going to have to take a shower here instead of waiting until she gets home. That would just be…unsanitary. So she finishes her workout, all of her limbs screaming at her that she should have stopped long ago, and takes a shower in the locker room, washing away absolutely everything from this hell of a week.

It's been a hell of a week. Or really a hell of a week and a half.

But that’s life. Sometimes work sucks. Sometimes she gets an unexpected or forgotten bill and has to pay it. And sometimes she misses her boyfriend.

But the work week is over tomorrow, she’s paid the bill (if not with some moaning and groaning and knowing that she has to be careful with how much she eats out until the next pay day), and she’s got a seven o’clock flight to Los Angeles tomorrow night. So sometimes life feels like it sucks, but at least there are upsides.

Mary Margaret is cooking her dinner tonight, so that’s at least one upside.

When she pulls up to the Nolan’s house, she gets out of her car and hurries inside while twisting her wet hair up into bun, not caring how bad that is for her hair. It’s weirdly quiet for their house, but she guesses that with Leo already in bed, most of the noise is gone.

“Hello,” she calls, peeking into the living and seeing no one. “Marg? David?” She wanders into the kitchen. The food is out on the counter. It looks like they’re having some kind of chicken. It smells good, but she really just wants to know where her friends are. But then she hears it, and she no longer wants to know where they are. “Oh God, that’s disgusting,” she groans, walking back into the living room and further away from the back sitting room where Mary Margaret and David are going pretty hot and heavy.

Chicken must really turn pregnant women on.

She shudders, a shiver running down her spine while she shakes that thought out of her head. While she knows pretty much everything about Ruby’s sex life, Mary Margaret is pretty quiet on that front, and Emma would like to keep it that way…especially since she now knows that Mary Margaret is not actually quiet.

If she hits her head against the wall three times, will she forget?

Emma: Do you have bleach at your house?

Killian: Um…yes?

Emma: Good.

Killian: Swan, I know I’m not always the best person, but I wouldn’t think you’re coming to my house to murder me.

Killian: And then to use my own cleaning products to cover it up. The betrayal.

Emma: You need to lay off your watching of true crime dramas. It’s putting ideas in your head.

Emma: Also, why the hell would using your own cleaning products be the betrayal? Wouldn’t the murder be the betrayal?

Killian: You know I am very particular about how I keep my house, so my products are all carefully chosen.

Emma: Because you’re weird.

Killian: Aye, now why do you need bleach if not to commit this crime of passion?

Emma: I’m at MM’s, just heard she and David having sex, and I don’t know what you do to make your hearing go away. I figured bleach worked like it would with sight.

Killian: I’ll do some research on that before you get here tomorrow.

Killian: Am I picking you up from the airport?

Emma: Nah, it’ll be late. I’ll Uber.

She hears a door close, hushed voices emanating from across the house, and she’s glad that David and Mary Margaret have finally finished their evening activities. She may never use her key again. At least she didn’t see anything. Then the bleach really would come in handy.

She might be the slightest bit dramatic.

She’s really tired.

“Hello,” she calls out, testing the waters the slightest bit.

“Emma?” Mary Margaret asks, stepping into the living room with a smile on her face and her hair still perfectly in place. How? How is her hair still perfectly in place? Actually, she doesn’t want to know. “Oh good, you’re here. Dinner is all ready. One of my student’s moms gave me a new recipe, and I think you’ll like it a lot. Why is your hair wet?” She shrugs. “I went to the gym. I pretty much ate an entire cake by myself last week, so I’m trying to work all of that off.” She gets up from the couch and wraps her arms around Mary Margaret, feeling Marg’s ever growing baby bump pressing up against her stomach. “Let’s eat.”

-/-

She punches in the code to get in Killian’s gate. If she wasn’t so excited, she’d be dead on her feet. It was a long flight, felt like longer than the last time she took it, and despite the late hour, getting out here took forever. And it was expensive. She probably should have had Killian pick her up, but it’s nearly midnight. He’s usually asleep, especially since just like she’s been trying to get back into exercising, he’s trying to get a normal sleep schedule after basically being all over the places for five months.

Yeah, she’s definitely about to wake him up too.

Sure enough, once she finally gets inside the house, everything is dark, the only light coming from the living room where Killian is passed out on the couch, his forearm thrown over his eyes while half of his body hangs off and threatens to fall to the floor. The television is still on, something about tornados playing, and she laughs a bit to herself thinking about how he fell asleep watching the weather channel.

Weirdo.

Quietly, she puts her bag on the ground and takes the few steps over to him, squatting down next to him and running her hand through his hair, brushing it off of his forehead until his eyes slowly flutter open, lashes moving from his cheeks to his brows and back and forth while he blinks the sleep away.

“Hey, KJ,” she whispers, continuing to gently run her hands through his hair.

“Swan,” he murmurs, his lips forming a small smile while he sits up on his elbows. “Shit, did I fall asleep?”

“Yeah, yeah you did.”

“I didn’t mean to. I meant to wait up and let you in, but obviously I screwed that up. Sorry, I just…I usually fall asleep far too early, normally right after we get off the phone, and I – ”

“Killian?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and kiss me.” “Well, I do so love when you’re demanding. It really – ”

She cuts him up, knowing exactly what he’s going to say and really not needing to hear his cockiness right now when all she wants to do is kiss him, so she moves closer to him and slides her lips over his. It shocks him a bit. She can tell by the way that he doesn’t immediately kiss her back, but it doesn’t take long before his hand is cupping the back of her head and pulling her closer. She missed him, missed this, and she wonders if being reunited will ever not feel this good. It’s like butterflies in her stomach and cloud nine beneath her feet, and if she wasn’t so damn happy, she’d make fun of herself for having thoughts like that.

When Killian runs his tongue along the seam of her lips, she opens her mouth for him while she gets off the floor and moves on top of him on the couch, trying to keep their lips from parting the entire time. He’s warm, always so warm, and this is one of her favorite things in the world.

Absolutely.

“Hi,” she smiles when she pulls back, her lips hovering so close to his that they brush them when she talks.

Killian reaches up and tucks her hair behind her ears, keeping it from falling in her face and over his. “Hi, love. I’m sorry that I fell asleep.”

“Stop apologizing. That’s ridiculous. But if you want to go upstairs and go to bed, I’d be all for that.”

“Darling, I know I’m irresistible, but I’m not sure if either of us are up for the reunion celebration.” “Well, I know that you’re definitely not up,” she giggles, gently rolling her hips into his while she brushes her lips over his cheek, “but don’t be so conceited. I literally want to go to bed to sleep. Everything else can wait for the morning.” “By everything else you mean breakfast, right?”

“Obviously,” she laughs, rolling off of him with about as much grace as someone on crutches doing ballet before standing up and holding out her hands for him to take so she can tug him up. He makes his weight go dead so that she can’t move him at all, and if he’s going to do that, she’s just going to leave him be, dropping his hands and moving to pick up her bag, slinging it over her shoulder and making her way upstairs.

She’s already washing her face in an attempt to make the smell and feel of airplane vanish by the time she hears Killian make it into his bedroom, flopping down on the bed in a dull thud. She didn’t really get a chance to talk to him today, but whatever he did must have made him absolutely exhausted. Usually he can suffer through it, but he’s down for the count tonight.

How she isn’t, she has no idea.

When she finishes washing her face and brushing her teeth, she walks back into the bedroom, crawling under the covers while Killian twists and turns until he finally ends up on his back. She doesn’t know why he takes so long to get comfortable when he always ends up in one of the same three positions. But she can’t say much. She takes forever to fall asleep, and she knows that she has to twist and turn all night long from the way that her covers look every single morning.

As she settles down in bed, scooting closer to Killian than she really needs to right now, he moves even closer, wrapping his arm around her waist and snaking his hand up her back underneath the hem of her shirt. “Did I tell you that I love you yet? That’s another thing I was going to do when you got here. I was going to tell you that I love you without one of us having to leave. That was number one on my list of things to do.”

“You had a list?”

“That is not the point right now, Swan. The point is that I love you.”

There are those stupid butterflies again, making her stomach twist and flutter and her heart beat a quick, steady rhythm within her chest. Yeah, she’s been waiting to tell him that she loves him in person again too. And not when they’re getting yelled at by airport attendants. It’s not exactly the most romantic setting, but sometimes all of those cheesy romantic declarations of love are overrated. She doesn’t need to be in a room full of flowers and candlelight to feel that way. That’s not real. That’s a rare thing.

She doesn’t want this to be a rare thing.

She absolutely is still in disbelief that she’s in love again. And that it’s this good. She didn’t know it could be like this.

“I like this point,” she tells him, tracing his collarbone with her finger before she caresses his cheek. “I love you too.”

“Good,” he sighs, briefly kissing her, “now that we have that settled, let’s go to sleep like the elderly couple we are.”

“Well, at least you. You’re an entire year older since the last time I saw you.”

“Bloody hell, love, just go to sleep.”

-/-

“We need to go soon.”

She groans, rolling over in bed and pulling the comforter up over her shoulders. His fan is rotating ridiculously fast, and while that was nice earlier when her entire body felt like a furnace, it’s not so nice now as sweat dries on her skin and her body cools down. She doesn’t even know how Killian is even thinking about getting up and going right now. He should be exhausted. She’s exhausted.

They need coffee.

She’d get out of bed for coffee.

She’s not really feeling like getting out of bed and getting ready to go over to Liam and Elsa’s house because Killian told them she was coming in this weekend and Elsa insisted that they meet her. Or that Elsa meets her. She’s met Liam in a spectacular fashion. Actually, when she thinks about it, she’s not sure which Jones brother she had a more interesting first meeting with. In totally different ways but still.

Elsa is great from what Emma can tell from the few times they’ve exchanged a few words over the phone and from the sweet comments she leaves on any pictures Emma posts online (yeah, Elsa followed her on Instagram, and Emma may have done some light stalking when she followed her back. There are some dang cute baby pictures on there.), and as much as she wants to meet her and Aiden, she’s a bit hesitant to see Liam again. She knows there’s going to be a conversation about how he treated her when they met, and she’s a little bit terrified that it won’t go well, that she and Liam won’t get along after all.

She’s over it, has moved on, but she doesn’t want there to be something between them. Liam is the most important person in the world to Killian, and even if he won’t say it, she knows it’s important that she and Liam get along.

So they have to clear the air. That’s all.

Staying in bed seems like a better option right now, though. She only really gets today with Killian, and staying in bed or in his house is something she’d much rather do. But he met her friends, was absolutely terrified to do it, so the very least she can do is go to lunch at his brother’s house.

Besides, she’s heard that Liam is a fantastic cook. Elsa too, but Killian has warned her that she often makes some interesting dishes that they all have to suffer through. That’s pretty much how people most feel about her cooking.

Maybe she and Elsa will be kindred cooking spirits.

Is that a thing? If not, she’s going to make it a thing.

“What is your definition of soon? Like, thirty minutes? An hour? Two hours? Can I take a shower? Do I have to wear makeup? Dry my hair? Because I think I’ve decided I’m not drying my hair anymore until I invent a blow dryer that lets me do it without the room getting all hot.”

Killian chuckles besides her, running his hand over his face before leaning over and tapping his fingers against her shoulder. “What the hell are you on about, Swan?”

“Nothing,” she promises, stretching out her limbs and feeling the pleasant ache everywhere. “Just something I was thinking about the other day. But seriously, when are we eating lunch?”

“One.”

“And what time is it now?”

“Eleven.”

She sighs, her head hitting back against the pillows. She really likes his pillows. And his comforter. And his bed. Maybe she should look into getting something similar for her apartment even if she really can’t be redecorating right now. And her stuff isn’t bad. It’s just not quite this soft. She’s got to give it to Killian. He really knows how to pick out a bed set.

“Okay, I’m going to go shower and get ready. Will you go make me some coffee?”

“It would be my only mission in life, milady.”

She playfully rolls her eyes, getting out of bed and heading toward the shower, turning on the water as she strips out of her clothes. His shower doesn’t take long to heat, and she appreciates that as she steps in. When she turns to the side and sees her preferred shampoo and conditioner on his shelf, she laughs a bit to herself. Did he really go out and buy her stuff? That’s either incredibly thoughtful or he’s just really into how her shampoo smells.

She’s thinking it might be both, especially since Killian did not smell like vanilla when she got here yesterday. The bottle also isn’t open, so she’s leaning more toward him simply being thoughtful.

He probably bought her favorite brand of coffee too. And the creamer. It’s only going to get a little weird if she finds her preferred tampons in the cabinets under the sink.

After she showers, she gets dressed, pulling on some jean shorts and a thin sweater. She can already feel how much hotter it is here than at home, and she’s a little scared to think about how hot it’s going to be when June and July roll around. At least he doesn’t live a little further south because the desert weather is not for her.

When she’s brushing through her hair, Killian comes into the bathroom with her coffee, placing it on the counter before wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing his lips against her neck. He hums, and she feels the vibrations all the way throughout her body, gooseflesh rising across her skin. “Hmm, you smell good.”

Okay, so maybe he’s a bit into how her shampoo and conditioner smell. She can’t say she really minds. She likes his body wash.

You like weird things when in a relationship. Things that seem really creepy if you think about them too much.

“Well, it seems that someone went out and bought me shampoo and conditioner when I brought little travel bottles of it myself.”

He chuckles against her neck while his hands dip underneath her shirt and run up her stomach. His hands are warm and a bit rough, and she wishes this is how every morning started. Well, no, how they started it earlier was good too, but that would be physically...impossible.

“Aye, I may have done some shopping.” His lips move up and down the cords of her neck again, desire pooling in her belly. “Can’t have you walking around here with unwashed hair. That would just be unsanitary, love.”

He bites her earlobe, and she gasps, jumping the slightest bit. She can see the mischief in his eyes from the mirror, and she’s just about to let him keep going before she remembers that they have to go somewhere. “Hey, stop,” she whines, twisting around so that her ass rests against the counter and her hands press up against his chest. When he raises an eyebrow, she explains, “You’re the one who said we had to go. We don’t have time. You have to shower, I have to finish getting ready, and I really want that coffee before it gets cold.” “So this is about the coffee then?”

“Absolutely.” She pushes him back, making him move a few steps away. “Now go get ready. We’ve got things to do, and you’re taking forever.”

Once Killian is ready, they load up into his car and drive the few minutes to Liam and Elsa’s. She doesn’t know what exactly she was expecting, but she wasn’t really expecting something so…modern, especially with the way that Killian’s house feels a bit old school. But they pull into a driveway of house that’s pretty much in the shape of a bunch of odd boxes with large windows and clean lines. It’s weird, but it’s actually pretty cool.

And now she wants to know what the inside looks like. Maybe this is just how houses are in Norway, and maybe she should ask how Elsa and Anna got here from Norway. Or why. Somehow that’s never come up. The Joneses are very international, and she’s lived in Massachusetts for her entire life.

She likes it though. She likes the stability of it.

Plus, Boston is awesome.

England and Norway are probably pretty awesome too.

Killian turns off the engine and undoes his seatbelt while she does the same. “Are you ready, Swan?”

“Yep, let’s go feed me to the wolves.” “So morbid.”

Killian lets them into the house without knocking, and really, with all of the awkward situations that have happened with just walking into someone else’s house, she thinks that maybe they would learn better. But when you have a key, you have a key. Might as well use it. At least Elsa and Liam know they’re coming at this time.

“Els,” Killian calls out, guiding her through the house with his hand on her back. From what she can tell, all of the furniture is surprisingly warm, not at all matching the outside of the house. So maybe Elsa and Liam just compromised with their living situation.

“In the kitchen,” Elsa calls out. She has no idea where the kitchen is, but she follows Killian down the hall and through double doors until she’s in a kitchen where Elsa is sitting on a barstool feeding Aiden in what seems to be a very messy affair. “Come on, we like peas, baby. We do.”

“No one likes peas, Els.”

Elsa turns to look at them, her braid whipping around on her shoulder and a bright smile forming on her face. “Oh hi guys.”

She gets up from her stool, placing the spoon on the high chair’s table, and comes to quickly hug Killian before absolutely smothering her in an embrace. She had no idea someone with such a small frame could give such a powerful hug. It takes her back a bit before she lightly wraps her arms around Elsa’s back and gently pats.

She’s definitely the most awkward person in the world.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she says when she pulls back, finally breathing again now that Elsa isn’t crushing her lungs. “You can keep feeding Aiden. We didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

“Oh, no, he’s fine. He’s just going to throw them everywhere. He liked them when they were all smushed up, but he refuses to eat them now. It’s weird. But I’m excited to meet you. I feel like I’m meeting someone famous or something.”

“That’s kind of an ironic statement when you think about it.” “True,” Elsa laughs, moving away from Emma and going back to sit with Aiden who is very animatedly trying to convey something to Killian as he babbles. “But seriously, you are Killian’s number one topic, and it’s nice to be able to put a real person to the stories.” “Elsa,” Killian grits, blush rising on his cheeks and reaching the tips of his ears. He’s embarrassed, and honestly all she wants to do is laugh at him. It’s cute. He talks about her, and he’s embarrassed about it. “Do you not have a filter?”

“Oh, well, no, I guess. I didn’t think that would be embarrassing. You’re a grown man. You should feel confident in talking about your girlfriend.”

“Oh my God,” he groans, running his hand through his hair before reaching down and popping one of Aiden’s peas in his mouth, even though she knows that he doesn’t actually like peas. He wasn’t lying earlier when he said that, but Aiden imitates him, taking a pea and popping it in his mouth too, smiling with each one. “I’m not talking to you about things ever again.” “Please,” Elsa laughs, “I didn’t even say anything really embarrassing. It’s not like I told her about the goofy grin you get on your face when she texts you or how you’ll walk out of the room in the middle of the conversation to answer her calls sometimes and come back in the room looking like a teenager who just made it to second base for the first time.”

A laugh rumbles through Emma’s stomach until she can’t contain it anymore, loudly chuckling at the proud look on Elsa’s face and the mortified one on Killian’s. He’s so rarely embarrassed, usually full of more confidence than any one human being should possess, but this is a rare treat.

She really likes Elsa. Any woman who can knock Killian down a peg is someone who she can be a fan of.

“Please Elsa,” Emma laughs, taking a few steps over to Killian and placing her hand on his back, rubbing it in soothing circles, “continue to tell me all of these things about Killian. I’m going to hoard them away and save them for later when he’s making fun of me for something stupid.” “Oh, I have a lot to tell you. I promise.” A door slams from somewhere, and Elsa’s eyes go wide. “But that sounds like Liam is finished with the steaks out on the grill. Do you guys want to eat in here or are you good outside?”

“Outside. They’ve got a beautiful garden, love. You should see it.”

Killian leads her outside while Elsa finishes feeding Aiden, and he’s right. They do have a beautiful garden, flowers blooming all across the backyard and around the pool, which is just stunning. She has about a million questions about how they can afford this place, but that would definitely not be something she can just ask. It would kind of take away her whole idea of this going better than when Liam met her.

“Liam, what does one have to do to get one of those steaks?”

She turns to see Liam standing on the other side of the deck, setting out food on a table. Her heart starts beating a bit quicker, her nerves coming back into play after she’d calmed down, and she has to remind herself that it’s okay. This is all okay. It’s just Killian’s brother. It’s just another person. And really, if anyone should be nervous, it should be Liam.

Right?

“For me, cook it. For you, just showing up apparently.” Liam lifts his hand and waves. “Hi, Emma. It’s nice to see you again.” She waves back, though she’s not exactly sure what it is she just did with her fingers. This is obviously some kind of alternate universe. Killian is embarrassed. She has forgotten how to fake it until she makes it, but it’s fine. It’s all fine. She’s got to stop thinking the word fine. “Hey, nice to see you too. The food smells good.” “I hope it tastes good too. Why don’t you two grab a seat, and I’ll go get the drinks. Water, lemonade, beer? Any preferences?” “Water.”

“Water is fine for me too.”

Liam nods before walking off, and she and Killian settle down into chairs at the table. The sun is shining directly in her eyes, so she pulls her sunglasses out of her hair, having to tug a bit when they get caught in the front few strands.

“So you’ve survived the initial meeting. How does it feel?”

“I don’t know. Do you think I’ll get a better grade than satisfactory?” He winks. “We’ll just have to wait and see.”

If her first meeting with Liam is a certified national disaster, this is basically like a trip to Disney World. But it’s not one where it’s one hundred degrees out, all of the kids are crying, and you stepped in puke while waiting in line for Space Mountain. No, it’s the cute trip where you wear the mouse ears, it’s a nice seventy five degrees and overcast, and you have a fast pass for all of the lines.

It’s good, basically. It’s all good. The food is fantastic, and Liam and Elsa make her comfortable with their conversations, keeping things light and airy with the right sense of humor mixed in. She doesn’t have to talk about her job, there’s no weird conversation about what her intentions are with Killian (she still can’t believe David almost did that), and mostly she just gets to spend the afternoon getting to know Killian’s family.

It’s the first time she’s ever really gotten to meet someone’s family. Neal, well, he obviously wasn’t going to let her meet his family. She didn’t even know he had a family until it was over. Walsh pretty much ruined things after meeting her friends, and, well, none of the others were ever really the “meet the family” type of guys or relationships. So this is okay. She’s doing okay. She also feels like an asshole for making fun of Killian for being nervous to meet her friends.

This can be absolutely terrifying.

“Where’s the restroom?” she asks after she finishes her second glass of water.

“There’s one just inside, lass. The second door on the left.” “Thank you.” She nods her head before scooting her chair back, making her way inside and finding the bathroom right where Liam told her it would be. She’s only gone for a minute, keeping herself away from idly examining how they have the room decorated while she’s washing her hands, and then she’s walking out of the room and running into a solid body, grabbing onto forearms.

“Oh, shit,” Liam mumbles, nearly dropping the bottles he’s holding from where she opened the door on him. “Sorry, love. Did not mean to bowl you over.” “It’s fine,” she promises, letting go of where her nails were digging into Liam’s forearms to steady herself. “It’s the hazard of doors, you know?” “Bloody awful inventions.” “I mean, I wouldn’t say that, but sometimes they do suck.”

Liam chuckles a little bit, but after he stops, they’re standing together in awkward silence. Like, really awkward silence. Like, she wishes she could get hit over her head with the door awkward silence.

“Well, I’m just gonna,” she begins, her sentence trailing off as she moves away only for Liam to put his arm out in front of her.

“Wait, Emma. Can we talk?”

She gulps, but she knew this was coming at some point. She wanted this to happen. She wants the air to be cleared because she’s not sure how much longer she can take this looming over her head.

“Yeah, sure.” Liam readjusts the beer bottles he’s holding, fidgeting with them until she takes two out of his hands and holds them herself, the glass cool to the touch. “I want to start with the fact that I’m sorry. Genuinely very sorry. I…there aren’t any excuses. I was an arsehole who overreacted in a lot of ways, and while I wish I could take it all back, I know that I can’t. It still happened no matter how much time has passed.”

“Look, I totally get where you were coming from,” she starts, having rehearsed this conversation several times over while in the shower or on the treadmill but knowing that nothing she thought is going to come out of her mouth now. “You’re Killian’s brother, but you’re also like his dad, whether he owns up to it or not. You two have been through some shit together, and I get you wanting to protect him.”

Liam nods, smiling a bit. “Thank you, lass.”

“But I also think you need to trust him some more and maybe not chomp the head off of anyone you see him becoming close to. I get the situation was messed up and confusing. There were a lot of things wrong there, but I didn’t deserve to be treated like that no matter what you thought when you saw me.”

“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just his – ”

“His past, I know,” she finishes for him while her finger wipes off some of the condensation of the bottle. “Liam, I’ve got a fucked up past too, and I know that probably worries you almost as much as me being some weird psycho fan. I’m not. I like Killian’s movies, and I thought he was attractive from, you know, the way normal people think a celebrity is attractive. You see them on TV and just notice it. I lost a bet. That’s why I asked him out. It was for a bet, not some kind of weird obsession, and I knew it could help the shelter and all of the kids. It’s stupid and embarrassing, but it’s true. I never could have imagined any of this. I honestly thought I was just going to embarrass myself and have that video haunt me for the rest of my life.”

“I didn’t…I didn’t realize. I guess I shouldn’t have just assumed things.” He runs his free hand through his hair, making the curls stick up and straighten. “God, love, I’m a bit of a wanker, aren’t I?”

She takes a step forward and places her hands on his shoulders, smiling up at him. “You are, but you’re a wanker from the heart.” Liam snorts at her joke, and she feels a bit better about things. “And you love your brother. You just want the best for him. I get that because I love him too.”

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely, totally, completely. All of the cheesy ways you can think about it.”

“Good because I have never seen him so enamored with someone. I’m pretty sure he thinks you hung the stars in the sky.” “Well, he obviously needs to go back to school because I did not do that. Though I appreciate the sentiment.” She squeezes Liam’s shoulder, a lightness taking over her that she hasn’t felt since she stepped through the front door here. “I’m pretty sure they’re going to send a search party out here for us if we don’t go back outside soon.” Liam nods and follows her outside, and the moment she steps out on the deck, she sees Killian throwing his head back with laughter and stretching his arms up over his head. He’s happy, truly in his element, and while she knew how much he loves his family, it was hard to really understand until she saw him with them. It’s like a one of a kind thing, she thinks. And she gets it now. This is one of the places he feels most at home.

“Love, how the hell did Liam get you into carrying out the drinks for him?”

She shrugs, setting her bottles down onto the table and sliding back into her seat. Killian grabs her hand and brings her wrist to his lips, his scruff pleasantly scratching her skin. “He couldn’t handle it all on his own. I think it was too much responsibility for him.”

“That’s true,” Elsa laughs, taking another sip of her water. “We tend to only let him do the little things. He’s just a liability otherwise.”

“He always has been a little rough around the edges and never quite as bright as he thinks he is.” Liam huffs, popping off the top of his drink and taking a long sip. “I did not invite you two over to be ganged up on in my own home.” Elsa pats his shoulder, a falsely sweet smile on her face. “No, babe, that’s why I invited them over.”

Yeah, so she really likes Killian’s family.

-/-

That night she and Killian are sitting on his back porch, the song of the ocean loud as it crashes up onto the sand and the crackling of the firepit at his neighbor’s house popping in her ears. It’s surprisingly cold for the coast at the end of May, not that she’d actually know from experience, and since she didn’t pack much for the short time that she’s here, she had to borrow a pair of Killian’s sweatpants, rolling them up at the waist so they don’t trip her up as she walks around. They’re warm, and she already knows that she’s probably going to borrow them…for an undetermined amount of time.

They stayed at Liam and Elsa’s for a few more hours this afternoon, really until the sun began to set and Elsa was one yawn away from falling asleep sitting up all the while Aiden napped in his nursery. She apparently usually naps with him, and as much of a good time as Emma was having, she felt awful keeping Elsa awake. So she and Killian came back to his house and have spent most of their time sitting out here or wandering along the sand.

He really does live in a beautiful place, and she wishes that she wasn’t leaving tomorrow. This has been like a tease, like a sip of wine when you want the entire bottle, but it’s leaving her feeling just as hungover as she would have been had she downed the entire bottle and then some all by herself.

Sighing, she moves her head to rest against Killian’s shoulder and wraps her arms around his middle while he spreads the blanket out over them a little more, making sure that their feet are covered from where they’re propped up on a table. It’s not the most comfortable thing in the world, but she likes the swing he has out here and could gladly spend an entire day back here feeling it gently rock back and forth. She feels Killian’s lips press against her forehead, and it only makes her nuzzle further into him, moving her legs and curling them up underneath her for more warmth.

“Liam and a made up.” “Yeah?” he asks, rubbing his hand up and down her side, fingers snaking underneath her shirt and spreading out across her stomach.

“Yeah. It was…easy. I always imagined it to be more intense, to be harder, but I guess so much time has passed, so much as changed, that I had already forgiven him. I’d already decided that we could get along for you as long as he didn’t do something dumb like that again.”

“He’d have at least six people after his head, so I imagine Liam won’t be mucking things up any time soon.” “Any time soon? So what? He’s just going to wait even longer and strike when we’re least expecting it?” “That is not at all what I meant.” “I know. You just mean he’ll be on his best big brother behavior from now on.” “Older brother behavior,” Killian corrects her, squeezing her side and making her giggle. “He is older and not necessarily wiser, just to make that clear.” “You guys have a weird relationship.” “I think I have a weird relationship with everyone. It’s just my nature.”

“True,” she sighs, tilting her head and kissing the bare skin at his collarbone, “you are a weird, guy.”

“Who you have fallen head over heels in love with.” “True, even if I don’t understand that saying. Isn’t your head always over your heels?”

“Huh,” he laughs while she does the same, “that’s true. I’m sure there’s some kind of explanation. We could google it.”

“I don’t care that much.”

“See, but now you’ve brought up a good question, Swan. How many phrases are out there that we say but that make no sense? How many phrases have gotten all mixed up over the years? Who even comes up with these phrases? I feel like we need to spend all night discussing this and researching this because – ”

She shuts him up by cupping his cheeks and bringing his lips to hers. She loves him in a head over heels kind of way, but she also knows him. If she lets him, he really will spend the entire night researching this, and she doesn’t want time to slip away from them, not like that. She can’t let it, so she continues to move her mouth against his, tilting her head and opening her mouth as he does the same. His breath is hot, and he still tastes like lunch, and even though she didn’t mean for this to be any more than a simple kiss to make him be quiet, she really does like taking advantage of having his lips on hers in person while his hand moves up and cups her breast underneath her shirt. There’s no replicating any of this when they’re apart.

There’s no chance.

“I cannot believe you just kissed me to get me to shut up. Again. I’m starting to think you don’t like listening to me talk.”

“You talk a lot,” she pants, her lips still tingling while she catches her breath, “and as much as I really do like listening to you, I had a feeling we were about to go down the rabbit hole.” “I fully plan on doing research on this at some point, you know? It’s nice to get to learn new things about the world.”

“If that’s how you spend your free time, I think you might need to work more.”

“Speaking of that,” Killian begins, pulling back from her and reaching down to pull the blanket back over them from where it had fallen, “I have some work stuff I need to talk to you about.” “Why do you need to talk to me about them?”

“Because they’re time commitments, and that’s something I want to talk about with you.” “Okay,” she sighs, wishing that she could dip her head in the ocean to calm herself down. Why is she freaking out? She should not at all be freaking out. Is she actually freaking out or is she just nervous because Killian basically just gave her a version of ‘we need to talk’ and who the hell wants to hear that? “Okay, what do you want to talk about?”

He reaches up with his free hand and tucks her hair behind her ears, and instead of having it calm her, it just makes her nervous. “I’ve been getting some of my next few months mapped out, professionally, and since I turned down Yours Truly – ”

“Wait. You turned that down? Why? I thought you liked that script?” “I did, love. I didn’t like the entire last half of the year in Switzerland for where I’m at personally right now. It was too far away from home, from my family, from you.”

She gulps, the implication behind his words obvious. Yeah, okay, so she’s nervous. “You gave up the role for me?” “Aye,” he admits, the corners of his lips ticking up the slightest bit. “I know it was a bit presumptuous despite where we are now, knew that it might freak you out a little. It freaks me out a bit, Swan, but with us already not being near each other, this is something we have to think about.”

Deep breath in.

Deep breath out.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

He really didn’t have to do that. She knows that it wasn’t just for her. It was for him, and Killian would never make a decision that he doesn’t think is smart. He just wouldn’t. So if he’s happy with it, she’s happy with it. “I wanted to. I’ll find other projects closer to here for now or maybe far away sometime later, but I probably won’t film again until spring or next summer depending on if I find anything and production times. I do have the promotions for Highland Waters. I believe that’s going to be in July, and it’s going to premiere around Labor Day. I was kind of hoping you’d like to come to that with me.”

“What kind of premiere?”

“A small one,” Killian promises, squeezing her arm to reassure her while she feels like she suddenly can’t breathe. She’s fine. She is. Really. This is just a lot all at once. But she’s good. They’re good. This may possibly be the first time anyone has ever put this much consideration into how she feels about their life. “I believe it’s just at the studio or a theater or something, but it’s pretty much a party with the cast and crew. Lots of good food and drinks. It’ll be fun, and you only have to come if you want to.” “No, no, I want to,” she reassures him. “I already get that Monday off, and I can probably use up some of my days if I haven’t already. I want to see this show you spent forever on, and, you know, support you or whatever.” She moves out of his arms and stands up from the swing, stretching her legs out the slightest bit. “But we can figure out all of this stuff on the phone. I’ve got to leave in the morning, so I really don’t want to spend the rest of the night working out our schedules.”

-/-

She was right to think that a weekend is just a little tease, and she’s not entirely sure if leaving after two days or two weeks is worse. But she’s got work in the morning and a flight scheduled in an hour and a half, so as she hugs Killian goodbye in the hourly parking lot of LAX she doesn’t have any choice but to leave.

It’s a transition, something they’re working out, and the leaving will get easier. It has to. Or it might not. Honestly, she has no idea if the ache in her chest is ever going to stop, but unlike the rest of her life where all she’s done is freak out about the future, she’s trying to take this one day at a time. Some looks ahead at the future but one day at a time.

“I love you, KJ,” she whispers into his neck before brushing her lips there.

“I love you too. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Yep,” she sighs, pulling back from his hug and picking her bag up from the ground. “I’ll see you soon.”

#betting on the bullseye #cs fic #cs ff

[ranspan-caffeinated-mom-4life]

Right before sleep

As I lay here in bed after 30 minutes trying to get the littlest to bed (2). I realized I am probably the biggest idiot in the world. Bed sharing was all fun and games until I end up with 3 inches of space a night. For about 2 years my husband took the couch, first it was because of me breastfeeding the baby. Than it was because the bed was broken. And when we got that fixed, it was because I bed shared. He just recently started sleeping in bed again. Which is great. I still have the same amount of room, so same great sleep. 🙄

I am that stay at home mom who's now married. I used to be a single working mom who missed out on a lot of great things with the bigs. Which has taken a huge hit on my relationship with them. Because you know working to provide them with the things they needed to survive was main priority. You're probably wondering where the bigs dad is. Well, he left when he realized what fatherhood, monogamy, and where hitting his baby mother got him👮🚔. 15 years and $136,000 dollars later, he refuses to pay child support which whatever. It would be super duper helpful though. But honestly, what am I going to do?

Back to being that stay at home mom part. I suck at it. I'm not cut out for this thug life. I try really hard most days to do laundry, fold, and put away. It usually doesn't happen. Dishes are a life force all on their own. I swear the forks spoon and procreate while I'm not looking. I also try to make sure my 2 year olds shit, I mean toys, aren't trying to kill me by walking through the house. Literally suck at that too. Well actually 5 out of 7 days I've completely given up. It's madness going around cleaning the same exact mess I just cleaned up 5 minutes prior. 2 year olds are little tiny tornadoes sucking your soul one day at a time. And just when you think it's gone, you lay them down at night and they kiss you and tell you they love you. And just like that, your soul is restored to full health for the next day to ensue.

I just got a new broom! Highlight of my fucking month! Something new, and something for me. It was like Christmas!!! It'll probably come out twice a week. I've named her Marie. The vacuum, Luis, has been in time out for over a month now. We had some words, I explained to him I didn't want to see him for quite some time, we needed space. It's been quiet. Brian, my mop, complains constantly about the jelly and such.

When I was a working mom, I was happier. I had my own money. I was able to buy what I thought was necessary. But now, I have lost that along with my real name. I'm either, mom, mommy, mama, babe, or "hey". I lost my name. My name I was presented with at birth. My identity. But I know in time it will come back. To all the hard working mom's out there who are at home, or at work. Don't beat yourself up, you are doing a great job. And we all only have 3 inches of bed at night.

[haikyuu-imagines-and-others]

I NEED A PART 2 OF THAT USHIJIMA ANGST PLEASE

So I think this one was in relation to the Tendou/Ushijima angst where the friendship was broken…. I’ll give a link to the first part so anyone coming in late can have the chance to feel that heartbreak! :) Thanks for requesting, love! - Admin Satori

Crickety-Crack

Ushijima Wakatoshi:

3 weeks. It’d been 3 whole weeks since the two of them had talked. 3 weeks since they’d lost the game to Karasuno. 

And now here the three of you were at volleyball practice once more. But this time wasn’t for the betterment of the third years, but rather for the incoming first years, for the further training of the current first and second years. You’d been asked to help Ushijima in herding the newbies into their proper positions and helping them practice.

You’d never felt so uncomfortable in your entire life.

Tension stuck to everyone’s skin any time they were in the same room as Ushijima and Tendou. The first years were having a hard time relating to the club activities because they were so focused on keeping their head down and out of the drama happening around them.

Regardless, Ushijima would not give Tendou the time of day. Nor would Tendou attempt to breathe in Ushijima’s direction.

But on the inside… Tendou was breaking. Falling apart. There hadn’t been a night to go by that he hadn’t shed a few tears, or tearlessly sobbed into his pillow. His best friend, his only real friend… dumped him. Over a stupid lost game. All his thoughts of being useless, and unwanted, and unapproachable came flooding over him once Ushijima had removed himself from his side. Tendou felt… lost…. A ship without it’s sail, the beach without the ocean, space without stars…

With that loss came frustration, then anger. He was moving through the stages of grief much faster than expected, though he refused to bargain for anything he’d had once more. Tendou believed he already looked weak enough without his burly best friend by his side… Bargaining would only bring back those bullies, it would only make everything worse for him to beg on his knees for what he’d once had.

Ushijima, on the other hand, had mourned the loss of the game more than the friendship. Any thought of Tendou would immediately be shut down and thrown out of his mind to be replaced with something more practical. Something more immediate. His heart ached, yearned to have his vibrant friend by his side again once more - but his pride stood tall between him and Tendou. His pride had been wounded after the game, his natural response was to cut everything off and focus on pure survival.

In Ushijima’s mind… the only way to survive… was to completely block out Tendou’s existence. Block out the person’ who’d shattered his dream, who’d bullied his childhood experiences.

Worry colored your features when you watched Tendou stomp out of the gym, towards the restrooms; You checked over your shoulder to see Ushijima emotionlessly explaining the different plays Shiratorizawa works with to the incoming first years. This wasn’t healthy. Tendou exploding like a firecracker into his own body, and Ushijima cutting off any and all emotion just to get through the day.

So you followed after Tendou. If they weren’t going to fix it, then you were. This fight between them didn’t affect only them, and you had to let them know. But first you had to make sure Tendou wouldn’t explode in a fury at the mere mentioning of Ushijima.

As soon as he saw you, he smiled widely, “Ah~ _______-chan, come to make sure I washed my hands?” The lanky boy rubbed his hands on his pants, “Don’t worry, I used extra soap-“

But you weren’t playing games. “Satori….” His eyes widened a bit at your using his first name, but you didn’t stop there, “This isn’t right… It’s not good… It’s not healthy.”

Tendou raised an eyebrow at you, a small smirk coming to his lips, “Hm? What? Our obvious love affair? Of course it’s not healthy, ________-chan, but that’s what makes it so much fun~.” When your expression didn’t change, he knew he couldn’t play dumb - he couldn’t joke his way out of this conversation. And in a way, he’d known this was bound to happen. There was only so much a significant other could take of their boyfriend’s arguments. “What do you want from me…?”

Your eyes softened, seeing his walls slowly lower, just enough for you to see the damage this whole event had caused his fragile little heart. A change in shade lightened Tendou’s face, either from the reflection of a passing car or perhaps the passing of a shadow outside the windows - but now you could truly see why he’d gone to the restroom. His eyes were slightly swollen, a thin red line under his eyes indicating the irritated tear ducts.

How had you not seen the splotchy marks of his cheeks?

The sight of seeing the one and only Guess Monster, post cry session over an ongoing stress with his best friend. His only friend.. It broke your heart.

And you could’t help yourself from moving forward and wrapping your arms around his torso, your hand softly rubbing up and down his back, feeling a secondhand guilt. It hadn’t been you to break this boys heart. It hadn’t been you to shut him out of your life. It hadn’t been you to make him feel alone and useless. But you were dating the man who had.

“I want you to be okay, Satori.”

Almost hesitantly, Tendou allowed his arms to wrap around you in a tight hug, feeling tears well in his eyes once more. His lips wobbled with the contained emotion and he reached a hand up to pinch his tears from his eyes, “Shit…” Already his voice was constricted, broken.

A pair of olive green eyes watched the two of you from the other end of the hall. A sense of betrayal filled his chest as he watched you console someone who didn’t deserve it. Who didn’t deserve anything that was handed to him. Ushijima frowned deeply and turned on his heel, now feeling a mix of hurt and disgust pulling at the pit of his stomach.

How had he been so blind? Of course this would happen. Ushijima knew he was too rough for someone as soft as you. Of course, the most logical of choices of yours would be to leave the rough, tough, emotionless bastard…. And seek comfort, seek what he thought you’d want through his much more soft, silly, fun… ex… best friend.

Ushijima only made it to the front steps of the gym before he felt out of breath, suddenly.

His world was falling apart around him. Set aflame. Washed away in a flood. Destroyed by earthquakes, tornados, and landslides. Frozen his heart in a blizzard. 

The game had been lost. His undefeated Volleyball record, lost. His best friend, lost.

And now? Now Tendou was trying to pull you into that same category? Gone from him and never to be returned. Never to be gained once more.

Ushijima let out a deep sigh, “I’m done.” And he felt it. A sudden execution of his affection for you. Gone.

If Tendou wanted you so badly, he could have you. Ushijima methodically shut off his feelings for you, shut off all thoughts of you, and just as he went to delete his collection of photos of you on his phone…..

There you were.

With Tendou.

#Admin Satori #haikyuu!! #haikyuu!! scenario #Ushijima Wakatoshi #Tendou Satori #Angst #>:)

[bananapeel007-blog]

Post #5 The Storm

Nov 13th 2019

So this summer with the beautiful weather we go we also had two days of a storm. But this storm wasn’t ur typical storm it was a tornado. And it formed right on top of my area. So it was a regular Friday at 4 o clock everything was going pretty well we knew it was gonna rain so my dad at started to barbecue our dinner early just in case. I was sitting outside and watching my cat cause she can’t go far cause she’s declawed and we don’t want another cat you know killing her. My step mom gets home around 4:30 she says hey goes inside for a second to put her stuff away comes out and helps my dad with the cooking. I’m watching the cat chase bugs around the yard which is the funniest thing I’ve seen ever. But me and my dad look up around 5 o’clock and see it the clouds are turning and we hear thunder from the water. And as soon as we see the clouds turning in that certain way we both said oh shit and finished what we where doing. I brought the cat inside and he brought the food inside and covered the grill and we just stayed in and waited for the storm to pass. We both had no clue that tornado forming would hit us.

So as my parents where prepping other stuff for cooking my girlfriend FaceTimed me and me and her called for a good 30 minutes I went downstairs and me her and my parents are all taking. And I asked hey is their a storm coming for u and she went ya it should be hitting in an hour. I told her theirs a tornado forming but it’s definitely heading farther out. And as soon as I said that the wind picked up. The tornado me and my dad saw went out towards howick and actually hit my friend Tyler. But I had no clue their was a tornado that had formed over the water and ten minutes later half way through mine and her convo she froze. Which was odd cause I have really good internet and so does she then FaceTime call failed. And my lights went out and everything stopped and it seemed like that for everyone. So we went whatever it’ll be back and ate our food then after we ate we got bored so we decided we should go for a drive and see who else’s power is out. Now it’s been raining like hell for 2 hours now and we thought nothing off it. Little did we know driving into the town that it was flooded their where people outside their houses completely flooded out. Ambulances and fire trucks everywhere whole streets and neibourhoods flooded and looked like a hurricane hit. As later decided to drive the opposite way down our road and not even a five minute walk from my house their it was a massive tree had taken out power lines and the road was blocked by and well then we knew we are fucked if that isn’t fixed.

Now you might be thinking how are u fucked it’s just the power is out. But not for us for us when the power is out that also means we have no water no toilets and worst of all no sub pump. Now us and all of our neibours are all prone to flooding cause the water from the storm that went into the ground around our house can’t get pumped out and we are to put it mildly are completely fucked. So we went around through a side neibourhood to get around the tree and their where people who’s houses had trees fall on them and destroy parts of them. We drove all the way down and we saw nothing no power for anyone . So we went back home to be on flood check we checked our crawl space with our sub pump and their was a bit of water in it which is definitely not good but we couldn’t do anything so we left it. 7:30 comes around we are sitting in our living room talking with the candles on the thunder and lighting and storm still hitting us. Then we see our neibour knock on the door we answer and he simply says hey do u have a generator I can borrow mine just fucking exploded in my face. And my dad went no I’m sorry we don’t even have a generator where screwed to. And my neibour stayed well I’m gonna go to canac to buy one but thanks anyway so me and my dad had an idea tommrow morning we wake up at 5 am to get a generator and get that water out. We went to bed at 8:30 that night due to the boredom. During the night I had to go to the washroom so I went outside to the stream that runs through my back yard and the stream was ten times higher then that morning and the water was rushing extremely fast. And I thought if this doesn’t get fixed soon where all screwed. After that I walked down to the tree and their where finally city officials their so what I thought was hey Maybe they’ll get this tree away and it’ll be fixed by morning so I walked back and slept.

The next morning I woke up at 5 am. My dad was still sleeping which was ok so I walked down to the tree and their it was not touched and no police city or even hydro Quebec and I just remember just saying dammit and walked back my dad got up my stepmom went to work me and my dad not showered and sweaty cause of no air conditioning went to canac a ten minute drive of seeing flooded houses and neibourhoods and we made it. We saw a hydro truck at a breakfast place so we thought hey maybe that’s them. We went into canac and we asked this young guy so we would like this generator please the cheapest one for 500$ and he went sorry where sold out of that one. So my dad says ok then I’ll take this one 800$ he says again ya where sold out to. Then my dad pointed at the 1200$ dollar one and said this one? And he just says we are out of everything we sold them all yesterday. Me and my dad both said fuck and went to chatauguay to Canadian tire. And their where generators but none that would power the house and overpriced. So then we said to hell with it and drove all the way to st Hubert and hour away to the next canac just for one of those generators and we got the 500$ one. And went home as fast as we could when we got their we unboxed it and checked the water in the crawl space. If we didn’t buy this generator we wouldn’t have had a house cause the water was extremely close to flooding us my dad crawled into the water and plugged in the generator and with the help of our neibour. Mr exploding generator man and his dog we got it set up. I started it and we only connected the fridge for our food and the sub pump and instantly the sub pump went on for an hour. After that me and my dad went to my abwelas(grandma in Spanish) and ate and showered and got changed. On our way back we finally saw them hydro Quebec and they where cutting the tree. Me and my dad got gas and filled the generator and started it back up.

A few hours pass of getting to know our neibours cause we had only moved in a few months ago and we got to know and meet all of them and I made a joke to them saying hey you knows what’s funny about this as soon as this power comes back on I guarantee none of us will ever talk again cause where gonna be inside. Hey at least I made them laugh. We asked the hydro guy when do they think they’ll be done and th way said by 5:30 pm and it was 2 pm so not bad a few hours pass and the tree was gone and the line was up they where just cooking it. We where talking to one of the hydro workers and he said they reason their so late is cause everyone was busy in this area so they called us in from Quebec City so we have been driving all day and night And he seemed exhausted. It’s 5:29 and me my dad and mr expoding generator man our watching them work then we see the hydro guys finish it up and call the city to turn the power back on and it took a few minutes but when they did the lines exploded which he explained is normal but everything seemed fine then he checked our power and everything snapped right back on all of our neibours lights where on cause the power had gone out at 6. And all of our neibours where celebrating and we disconnected our generator and went inside to fix everything me and my dad went to my stepmoms parents to meet her and we talked with them for an hour then we ate at an Italian restaurant and went home and showered I had never passed out harder that night of just exhaustion of working with my dad driving everywhere that day. And looking back at it I take it as a great bonding moment with my dad. And I moment of noticing u don’t need to have a good time without electricity and tv and video games and internet just being around with family is fun. And my final thought I don’t know how the fuck my abwelo(Spanish for grandfather) lived in a shack in the desert for a big part of his goddamm life I never wanna do that shit again I’ll give up my internet and light and tv and video games no problem but don’t fuck with my air conditioning.............. your still here? It’s over go home. Go....... chica chicaaaa.

P.s sorry was late on it had a bit of a family emergency that involved my stepmom my dads car and a wall. She’s ok not hurt at all but I can’t say the same for my dads car anyway sorry about being late will try to be on top of it next time.

[theoddcatlady]

The Legion Studies, Part Seven

December 8, 198X

No sign of Father Carter or Scotty, and now there was a dead body on our hands with no trace of who the murderer could be.

I was planning on bailing when the blizzard calmed down. Money or not, this wasn’t worth it. Whether it was the Devil or someone whose inner psychosis had caused them to snap under the pressure, lives were in serious danger.

I talked my plans over with Dr. Leon and Lois over lunch.

“I’m onboard.” Lois stabbed her fork into her meatloaf. “And then I’m telling the police that Dr. Lewis let a pedophile have ‘alone time’ with his kids.”

“It wasn’t intentional,” Dr. Leon began, but when Lois and I glared at him, he changed his course, “but I’ll do the same. Not to mention one of them’s still missing. Poor Scotty. He was such a happy kid. God knows what’s happened to him.”

The lights flickered and I reached for my cross, clutching it tightly. Lois shuddered. “Don’t. Don’t even start. I bet it was Father Carter who killed the inmate.”

I thought about Father Carter compared to Ollie. “Maybe? I always figured Ollie was stronger.”

Lois shrugged. “Desperate asshole is a desperate asshole.”

That I couldn’t argue with.

Dr. Leon sighed and pushed away his half eaten plate. “Not hungry anymore. We’ll find Father Carter and Scotty soon though. There’s not that many places they can hide out here,” He said.

The only thing to take comfort in, yet three days in and we still couldn’t find them. A puzzle no one had an answer for.

December 9, 198X

This was the last day.

Hugo was interviewing Chloe this time, looking tenser than a stretched rubber band. Chloe sat across the table, her hands folded in with each other as she smiled sweetly.

“Hello Mr. Hugo! Is it really snowing outside? Can we go play together?” She asked.

Hugo chuckled as he twiddled his pencil between his fingers. “I don’t think so, Harus. We’re staying in here until you decide to piss off back to hell,” He said.

Chloe’s jaw dropped and shock exploded across her face. “How did you-“

“What? Did you expect me to forget you?” Hugo leaned in and smirked. “I remember all the friends Emmet loved to bring in, and I remember your foul mouth. You’re a bit of a bitch.” He leaned back and cocked his head. “Now. Are you gonna leave the little girl alone?”

Chloe’s expression twisted into something dark before she turned to the window, right where I was sitting. “No. Chloe needed me. She let me in! Your power won’t move me.”

“You wanna bet?”

Hugo took off one of his necklaces and swung it around his finger. Lois looked up from where she was monitoring Chloe’s brain activity. “What are you doing?” She asked suspiciously.

“Exorcism, love.” Hugo started walking around Chloe, whose small face had gone pale. “This wasn’t the deal, that little kids would have a demon marching around their heads.”

“This hasn’t been approved by Dr. Lewis-“

Hugo’s snort cut Lois off. “I really don’t give a shit about a man who knows dick on how to parent. I’m not letting this demon stay inside Chloe any longer than it has to be. You want to make this easy, Harus?”

Chloe spat on Hugo’s shoes.

Then the room went dark.

I heard Lois scream and Hugo shout something before I was knocked to the floor. Terror filled my chest when I felt a pair of familiar hands wrap around my throat. Not again. This could not be happening again.

This time I could still breathe, but I couldn’t get up. I was paralyzed. Then I heard a voice.

“… you start to believe in that cross now?”

The distorted voice laughed, a sound like radio static.

“One moment, one moment too late, Barbie.”

A finger stroked down my face, attached to an arm I still couldn’t see.

“You look just like your mother.”

The emergency red lights clicked on and whatever had me pinned was gone. I heard the others in the room gasping and hacking, I stumbled to my feet to see at least two of the others were passed out, the others trying to force breath in through bruised throats.

I gripped the cross before I ran to the interview room. It was like a tornado had been through there. The table was knocked over, the monitoring equipment smashed and smoking. Hugo was laying across the ground. Lois was slumped over her chair, groaning quietly. Chloe was nowhere to be seen. I went to Lois first and shook her awake.

Lois’ eyes flicked open before she gasped. “Oh shit! Shit, shit, shit! Chloe!” She looked around wildly. “Holy shit, the kid threw the table- Hugo!?”

Hugo groaned before raising a hand.

“I think we’re fucked.”

Chloe had vanished the same way Scotty and Father Carter had. The only thing the power was running was the heat. There was no lights.

Hugo and I were together, everyone was ordered to remain inside their rooms until the power came back on. No one wanted to be alone. Especially me.

We sat on my bed, back to back for several quiet minutes. Maybe an hour. I’m not sure. I broke the silence.

“My mother was possessed when I was ten years old.”

Hugo tensed. “… I thought you didn’t believe in all of that,” He said, turning his head back.

I laughed. “I don’t know any more Hugo. I don’t know.”

The most terrifying to me, up to this day, is the unknown. Why things happened. Everything had an explanation that could be defined by chemicals in the brain, how you were raised, your genetics. Everything could be explained by that.

“My mom always called me Barbie. No one else did,” I shifted until I was leaning against the wall, so I could see Hugo’s reactions, “it was our thing. I was her Barbie. She was… a very thoughtful woman. You would’ve liked her I think.”

“I’m terrible at being thoughtful. So probably not.”

I elbowed Hugo gently. “Knock it off. I’m being serious.”

Hugo raised both his hands. “I’ll behave! So… what happened?” He asked.

I sighed.

“… I’m not sure how it happened. It wasn’t an overnight change. It was over the span of a few weeks, I think. She stopped going to work after her brother died. She spent all her time in the room. She never wanted to talk to me. She started complaining of hearing things in the walls. Things I never heard. She hated to be close to me. I was a child who loved hugs. Mom always encouraged that. But when I went in for a hug one day, she… she pushed me. I hit the back of my head on the counter. My dad came home to me crying and my mom sobbing, telling me sorry and that it wasn’t her that did that.”

Hugo rested a hand on my shoulder. “You don’t have to tell me more.”

“I feel like I do.” No one knew these things except for a therapist. “My mom was diagnosed as a schizophrenic. She got worse. Began talking to someone. Someone no one could see.”

I started to pick at a hangnail I’d gotten a few days prior. “Dad just told me he was like mom’s imaginary friend. I’m surprised he didn’t leave her. Dad took care of her for the last part of her life. Until she beat him up, flung him across the room and just… ran off screaming. I was in the room when it happened, I just… wanted to show my parents my A+ on my math test.”

Hugo didn’t say anything. I pulled loose the hangnail and a little blood welled up. “She threw herself in front of a truck, according to dad… I’m not sure if that’s the truth. I always wanted to explain what happened to her. And now I wish I hadn’t.”  

It was only a second of silence before Hugo pulled me into a hug. I hugged him back so tightly I thought I’d break his ribs.

We stayed like that until the subjects from B-2 escaped.

It was almost midnight. We’d almost fallen asleep when the door slid open and a man slipped in. I screamed and threw my flashlight at the figure.

The light illuminated his face briefly before it konked him over the head. The man shouted and nearly toppled over, but I recognized his voice.

“… Ernie?”

Hugo stood up and picked back up the flashlight, flashing it on Ernie’s face. His face was covered in swollen bruises. I got up. “Ernie? Why are you out-“

“Everyone’s out. Everyone’s out now. Rex is dead!”

Ernie’s bottom lip quivered. He looked near tears. I hushed him and had him sit down, he looked like he’d been beaten half to hell. After he caught his breath he opened up about what happened.

“Everyone was on lock down. Dr. Lewis was questioning us about Chloe, if any of us had seen her. Then I heard Rex scream, and everything went to hell. Doors all opened up, everyone got out. It was like… It was like everyone in the room just went crazy! Everyone started attacking each other, and, hell I almost got caught up in it until I realized what I was doing. I just got the hell out of there but not… not before…”

Ernie’s eyes welled up with tears. “… Poor Rex,” He whispered.

Hugo gulped, but I took a deep breath. Stay calm. Stay calm. “What happened to Rex?”

“… I found his body in his room. Gutted and hanging from the ceiling.”

My heart dropped.

“Wasn’t recent either. His body was all bloated and dried out, he’d been like that for days but I, I knew that kid! I knew it was him screaming!”

Ernie shook his head. “Everyone kept on fighting and I ran. We gotta hide. Can we bar the door?”

Hugo stood. “We have to get out of here. Now.” He went into my wardrobe and grabbed my coat, flinging it at me.

I caught it but shook my head. “Hugo, none of us know how to fly a plane-“

“I do.”

Ernie blinked hard as if to clear his vision. “I know how to fly a plane, just haven’t done it in a few years. I’d never fly in the weather like we have right now, but… do we have a choice?”

Hugo answered for me.

“We don’t. Let’s try to find the pilot, but if we can’t, Ernie you better remember quick.”

#horror stories #scary stories #demonic possession #sixpenceee stories #creative writing #writers on tumblr #my stories #the legion studies

[mrheyhellohowareyou]

WWE-ECW TV MATCH BATCH #1

The worst part about the WWECW reboot wasn’t the logo, but Jesus is this shit is hard on the eyes.

The WWE vs ECW Tuesday special and One Night Stand 2006 are both things that I enjoyed a fair amount recently. I wasn’t a  wrestling fan in 2006 so I don’t remember anything about the rebooted ECW, all I know about it is its less-than-stellar reputation. I figure if One Night Stand was the launch then the new show should have started with SOME promise so I’ve been combing through episodes to see what catches my eye.

Episode 2 (6/20/2006)

Rob Van Dam and Kurt Angle vs Edge and Randy Orton

RVD is your WWE and ECW champion and riding a HUGE wave of momentum, having pinned World Heavyweight Champion Rey Mysterio (maybe not all that impressive since Rey wasn’t very good at winning right then) in a non-title match at the aforementioned WWE vs ECW special, John Cena at One Night Stand ‘06 for the spinner strap, and would go on to successfully defend against Edge in a fuck-ugly match at Vengeance the Sunday after this show. Kurt Angle is “ECW’s Kurt Angle,” which seems like it meant that the guy was still an overconfident Olympic dickhole, the kinda guy who would slap people on the back of the head while they were covering up on the ground, but the crowd dug it because good guys who act like dicks are an ECW tradition.

Edge and Orton are representing RAW and sports entertainment as a whole if you listen to Joey Styles. Edge comes out first and says that ECW SUCKS, which we’ve heard so many times from so many different people that it ceases to be a controversial opinion. Commentary says this is the first time these two have ever teamed up.

Angle starts with Edge and throws him around a little bit, treating Edge like lumpy trash. RVD comes in to do his moves and Edge tags in Orton so he can take some punishment instead. Rob crotches Orton on the top rope and comes off the top buckle to kick him off, which is kind of a piece of shit move but Randy is a dick so no one cares. Orton and Edge take over when Lita pulls down the top rope and RVD falls to the floor, leaving the heels to take over with crisp tandem offense. Orton is pretty nasty in this match, really putting some malice behind his hits and displaying one of the few things I like about watching him. RVD takes a crazy bump through the ropes headfirst into the announce table and then gets kicked in the face with both of Orton’s heels on a crazy-high dropkick.

RVD creates some separation and tags Angle in, who throws both heels to the mat with German suplexes. Angle goes for Orton’s ankle but Edge pulls him to the ropes, which doesn’t put a full halt to Angle’s offensive tear. Edge comes off the top and gets caught for another German followed by an attempt at an Angle Slam, but he forgets about Orton lying in the corner and gets caught with a chop block to the knee. These bastards are nasty and their teamwork is super solid for a first time pairing, smothering Angle with their teamwork and not letting him breathe. Angle thrown to the floor by Edge and tweaks the chop-blocked knee on the way down, then is into the steps and rolled into the ring. Extreme Angle suprised Edge with a single leg from the ground and goes for a choke, which is broken up by Lita. Joey Styles doesn’t know what “the back” means, which is strange because he was just criticizing King for “not watching the product” very recently. Edge throws Angle into the corner and just gets kicked right in the chest on a charge, giving him an opening for another German and an opportunity for Angle to tag in RVD. Clotheslines and a kick to Edge, a blast to Orton on the apron, step-over kick to Edge and a tope to Orton on the floor. RVD grabs a chair but gets grabbed by Orton on his way back into the ring so RVD chucks the chair at his face (Orton takes a full five seconds to fall down) before getting blasted back to the floor by Edge. Angle grabs Edge’s ankle and ducks a belt shot from Lita then delivers the Angle Slam to her, which the crowd loves because you can take the fans away from the trash but you can’t take the trash away from the fans. Straps are down, Orton back in to RKO Angle, but he makes the mistake of gloating and gets kicked in the face by RVD coming off the top. He then goes for Rolling Thunder but gets kicked right in the face by Edge on the way down. Edge sets up for the spear, gets hit by Rob’s forearem, Five Star Frog Splash and that’s the match. Edge gets pinned clean (as clean as you can in ECW I guess) going into their match at Vengeance

Fun match, went by quickly. RVD bumped around like crazy and everyone had a little spring in their step.

Episode 3 (6/27/2006)

Rob Van Dam vs Kurt Angle

Edge comes out to sit at ringside so he can get a look at who he’s gonna fight at a later date. Taz tries to interview him but Edge calls him short so Taz shoves the mic into his chest. Edge threatens him and says “I know how to choke somebody out too” but I don’t think anybody believes him.

What I like about the build to this new ECW was that it seemed certain wrestlers took the cue of the new format to change their styles to something more appropriate for the audiences’ expectations. RVD’s style resembled the spot-heavy, ridiculously-athletic sprinting pace of old while Angle turned up the nastiness of his character while still playing to what a bloodthirsty crowd would want out of a good guy Olympic wrestler with an insane amount of self-confidence in his amateur skill.

This match… well, you would have no idea that any of this had actually happened by watching this match. Starts with Angle outwrestling RVD (obviously), with Rob showing enough skill of his own to avoid getting fully caught up in Angle’s submissions. Angle keeps on knocking Rob onto his back and killing his momentum and takes over the action. Rob tries going high risk, where he gets caught and gets thrown from the top rope all the way to the floor.

The remainder of the match goes something like this: Angle takes over with holds on the ground but stops fully wrenching away on them after awhile, leaving a little something to be desired in the punishment he’s supposed to be inflicting and the mean streak he’s supposed to be displaying; Rob creates separation a few times but keeps getting caught when he goes high risk, getting dragged back down to the mat. Rinse and repeat. RVD could bump like crazy but it seems like he doesn’t exactly do too well at selling holds. There’s nothing wrong with the formula, solid enough in concept but the two don’t seem to have much chemistry in this match.

After a few back and forths Rob starts to hit his signature offense. Rob eventually hits a tornado DDT off the ropes then anticlimactically climbs to the top rope for a connecting Five Star Frog Splash to end the match.

The biggest detriment to this match was the inconsistency it has with the character-building and stage-setting being done within the new ECW universe at the time as it’s worked like a standard WWE TV main event. Both wrestlers do their thing and have the match until it ends.

Episode 9 (8/8/2006)

Kurt Angle vs Sabu

Would you call this a “dream match?” Somebody has definitely dreamed about this match but I don’t think anybody has ever sat down and gone “you know who would be good together…” and then came up with this.

This shit right here is FAR superior to the RVD/Angle matchup, a lot more competitive with a lot more going on. Angle is smotheringly aggressive and gets a lot of shots in at Sabu, but the Genocidal One’s offense is so outside of what Angle is used to that he is caught off-guard on the regular throughout the match. This is almost the opposite of the last match, where it seemed Angle had RVD’s number until he managed to eek out a win with the high-risk offense, since the two go back and forth taking their best shots at each other and trading places as the dominant one in the match. This is a “non-extreme” match but that almost works into Sabu’s unpredictability: if he can’t use his chair then what’s he gonna try and pull out to gain the advantage?

(Unintentionally) funny bit early on when Sabu puts his feet on the ropes while trapped on the mat and aggressively tries to bring this to the blind ref’s attention. Angle keeps grinding down Sabu and smacking him around until he misses a charge into the ringpost and takes a gnarly bump to the floor after a second charge gets him tossed over. Sabu is pretty crisp here and keeps the action going, keeping himself in logical contention with the Olympic gold medalist, getting in WAYYYY more offense than Rob did in his ECW match with Angle. Sabu’s fists = underrated.

The two trade off spots of dominance, Angle grinding down Sabu and Sabu retaliating with some really “explosive” offense consisting of a mix of strikes, mat wrestling and high-flying craziness, both guys bumping inside and outside of the ring like the fate of the brand depended on it.

Sabu has Angle down and hits a Frog Splash for 2 and then gets his ankle caught, but before anything else can happen RVD comes down and smashes both dudes with a chair because, well, he wants a title shot. It seems like there are other ways to go about that but, y’know, ECW. So of course Rob gets what he wants next week in a ladder match against Sabu.

Almost disappointed this match had to end this way, it was very competitive and I was looking forward to seeing how one man would get the upper hand over the other. Both guys came at each other with purpose and nastiness, intent on cutting the other down but unable to gain a real dominance due to the style clash and the resiliency on display.

If you told somebody that never watched Raw in ‘06 that Angle’s last match for the ‘E would be against Sabu and that it was an actual fluid and entertaining affair, I doubt that anybody would actually believe you

#wwe #ecw #wrestling #match reviews