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oogaboogasphincter · 3 years

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A Magpie, a Goose and a Sparrow Walk into a Found Family Trope (Ezra x f!reader)

Summary: A nightmare caused by trauma he endured before and on The Green haunts Ezra one night, his fear bleeding into reality. Under the fog of sleep, he hurts you, thinking you are the monster that is endangering you, Cee and himself while on your next trip. He apologizes by doing something that terrifies him: opening his heart up to another person.

Word Count: 10.7k+ (holy shit i deeply apologize for putting my readers through this agonizingly long junk)

Rating: M (mature) just to be safe (some pretty intense themes but i don’t think there’s anything too explicit)

Warnings: non-fatal manual strangulation and bruises from it, swearing, sexualization of two adults, mild references to sex, mild allusions to sexual arousal, discussion of trauma and its effects, Prospect (2018) spoilers, some argument, hair braiding, one (1) ✨neck✨ kiss, one use of (y/n), sprinkles of that sexual tension we all love, a resolved ending!

Author’s Note: first off, thank you SO much to @martinsmomo for this request!💜💕 this was so creative, i hope i did it justice :). second, AHHH!!!!! my first piece ever!!! i haven’t written anything on my own time for my own enjoyment since i was like 13, which may or may not be apparent by my comma splices, repetitive sentence structure/word choice and disagreeing verb tense💀. the thought of i have no idea what i'm doing never left my mind while i was writing this, but i just tried to go with it and have fun :). ALSO, i had so much fun reading all of the lore about the world that Prospect (2018) takes place in. Here is a link to a pamphlet about a lot of stuff that is featured in the movie, which i used while writing this piece. i highly recommend you check it out! i tried to stick to as much canon stuff as i could, but 🦋The Blue🦋 is something that i made up. also this is not beta’d, i just wanted to throw this into the void and see what happens✨. i also also want to point out that in no way am i trying to romanticize or sexualize domestic violence. i know that the subject matter in this piece can be triggering, and even though the violence wasn’t intentional and it’s resolved through love, i don’t want it to be misconstrued as something that it’s not. with that being said, i hope you enjoy it! :)

gif by @anakin-skywalker

A grunt stirs you from your deep slumber. Your eyes open easily, a treat that you weren’t given often due to the dryness of the pod’s recirculated air. The inside of your shared galactic chamber is as dark as your mind; no illumination to shine on your thoughts and wake them up or to show you how Ezra is doing. You know the grunt had come from him, as the only other passenger was his adopted daughter, Cee. You turn in your pilot’s chair, looking over your shoulder to try and make him out through the impossible darkness.

Parcel-Class Planetary Drop Pods were designed to fit only two travelers, however the three of you had decided to embark on your next journey together. To save on costs, your partners opted for a model without cots. Being the gentleman that he is, Ezra insisted that you and Cee sleep in the pilots’ chairs. He had thrown a few blankets on the cold, flat floor and had proudly announced, “Sleeping quarters fit for a king!”, eliciting pitiful laughter from you and Cee.

Now, your eyes can’t find the sad bundle of warmth that is his sleeping figure. He is a restless sleeper, and every time he made a noise that was more than a good-natured hum or a soft swish of rearranging his blankets, you would wake and turn to make sure that he was okay. You would do the same for Cee, but she was a fantastic sleeper. Not too deep, not too light, and never made a peep. You turn back around, giving up on trying to spot Ezra in the dark, when you hear another grunt.

This one is louder than the last.

You turn back around yet again, your own blanket falling off of your chest and into your lap. Eyebrows furrowing together and eyes squinting, your pupils strain themselves to find any shred of light to let you see. The noises increase in abundance and volume. Ezra’s sleeping fit has transformed from a halfhearted rustling to an aggravated clamor in less than a minute. Your eyes stay on the dark patch of space where you know his “bed” is situated while Cee arises from her sleep. Her chair lets out the slightest creak as she follows your gaze and attempts herself to see what all of the commotion is about. She asks you, “Is he okay?” Ezra answers her with an irritated growl through his teeth. You say to her, “I don’t know, I can’t see him, should we-”

Your suggestion of waking him up is cut short as two hands wrap around your throat. The hands twist your head to face forward, and you’re greeted with Ezra’s sweat-slicken face. Instinctively, you grasp at his forearms in an effort to ease the constriction of your neck.

Cee screams, “Ezra, let go of her!”

He defies her command and puts one of his knees in between yours on the seat of the pilot’s chair and leans closer to you. The brown eyes that you had grown to love now bore into yours with unwavering menace as the pads of his fingers press harder into the sides of your neck. His palms are flush with your larynx, threatening to crush it. You want to let out sobs of heartbreak, but are unable to. He’s restricted your actions to only being able to watch him attempt to strangle you. Your fingers aren’t able to get a grip on his limbs due to his angry sweat and your panicked claminess. Your mouth hangs open as his is shut tight, his jaw muscles stuttering with intense rage. He starts to growl through his teeth again, but a flash of light turns it into a howl.

His entire body falls back, his hands losing their purchase on your neck. You suck in a harsh breath and lean forward as Cee grabs your hand and pulls you out of the pilot’s chair. In her other hand she grips a Boscelot Frontiersman: the source of the light that had extracted Ezra’s shriek and drilled its way into his thigh. He sat on the floor in front of your chair and laced his hands just above his injury, throwing his head back and wincing.

Cee puts some feet in between the two of you and guides you across the floor to the other side of the impossibly small pod. Hoarse coughs begin to rise from your surprised larynx, accompanied by trembling of your entire body. Cee, still holding you by your arm with one hand and the Thrower in the other, yells your thoughts at Ezra, “What the fuck was that for?!” She flicks the lights on, allowing everyone to see each other’s face for the first time all night.

Ezra stares at the two of you in disbelief. Both brunette and blonde strands of hair are stuck to his forehead with sweat, eyes depressed from the subsiding adrenaline, his whole body drenched in distressed perspiration. You and him lock eyes, even through your flailing about as you continue to choke on air and delicately place your own hands over where his just had you in a vice grip. He knows what he’s done as soon as he sees you. He begins to cry and opens his mouth to start an apology that can never be adequate, but Cee hurls a field kit at his head. It hits him and he takes the blow without complaint. His devastated eyes keep to your bloodshot ones as he opens up the kit and starts to treat his justified wound. Cee stares at him with aggravation, and so do you, but her expression is void of confusion.

You are confused as all hell. What could have possibly made him do that? He seemed to be having a nightmare, but that didn’t give him the excuse to nearly strangle you to death.

Your coughs and stress start to dwindle as all of you sit there, not saying a word, the only other noise in the room being Ezra opening and closing medical supplies. He squirts a sanitizing solution over his wound, hissing, and then he takes out a Patch Gun. This sets your heart racing. The strangling was unpredicted and almost successful, would he get up once he was healed enough and try to do it again? You push yourself back against the wall and keep your widening eyes on him as he sprays the medicated foam into the hole the Thrower had burned through his trousers. He squeezes his eyes shut, winces intensely, and then fails to keep a painful wail inside his chest. You’ve seen him treat himself before, and usually his next step is to throw more than the recommended amount of pain relievers into his mouth and chew on the tablets, redirecting the pain from his injury to his mouth. He doesn’t do that this time.

Instead he throws the used Patch Gun to the side, closes the field kit and pushes it Cee’s way. He breathes your name out of his mouth, causing you to retreat further into the wall. You bring your legs to your chest and wrap your hands around the back of your neck, resting your elbows on your quaking kneecaps. Burrowing your face into the cavity you’ve created, you start bawling. Pain sears your throat, and is only intensified by your sobs, but you can’t help it. You’re absolutely terrified. Ezra says your name again, genuine with care, in an effort to get you to look at him. You shake your head once and continue to gasp into yourself. Cee startles you by touching your shoulder, and she quells your worries, “He won’t do it again.”

Her five simple words plant a seedling of peace in your heart, but it is nowhere near close to blooming. You don’t look up as she gets up and goes over to your pilot chair and grabs your blankets. Her footsteps return to you quickly, and within moments her warm, calm hands are draping the fabric over your shoulders. She rests her chin on your shoulder, moving with your heaves. A softening tone takes over her beautiful voice as she murmurs “It’s okay”s, “I’m here”s and “You’re safe”s into your blankets. Before you know it, your body succumbs to the overwhelming desire to heal mentally, emotionally and physically with sleep. Your trust in Ezra may be broken right now, but you know that Cee will watch over you. Despite her lack of size and experience compared to Ezra, you know she has the upper hand on him intellectually. He may be full of wondrous prose, a never-ending vocabulary and sharp wit, but Cee has had him in the palm of her hand ever since they met. You can sleep knowing that she can protect you and herself, if need be.

You peek out underneath your arm to qualify to yourself that Ezra is in no shape to attack again.

He sits where he landed when he fell, slouching with exhaustion. His eyes sparkle with tears of regret, his eyebrows quirked in a way that reads “There aren’t enough ways to apologize, but I’ll try every one until you forgive me.” You close your eyes, lay your head against the wall and beg the Sandman to bring you all a night of peace as you rest until the Sun comes up.

The pale blue morning light penetrates your eyelids and alerts your brain that it is time to get up. You awake to find Cee and Ezra sound asleep, her in her pilot’s chair and him in his “bed”. You are still huddled up against the wall, opposite to Ezra, and look upon him with a wary gaze. The fear he inserted into you last night makes your nerves feel like static, but at the same time you can’t help but be relaxed by his presence. It’s obvious he didn’t cause any more damage during rest of the night, so maybe his eyebrows were telling the truth: that he is sorry.

The muted sunshine washes his complexion out and dulls the warmth that his chestnut locks hold. It makes the blonde patch in his hair and the arc scar on his cheek glisten cerulean. His expression is relaxed, eyelids fidgeting under the controls of REM sleep.

The sound of Cee’s alarm clock distracts you, and moments later her hand reaches out and pushes the ‘stop’ button. Awakening limbs appear above the back of her chair, accompanied by a yawn. Your eyes dart to Ezra. He’s still asleep. She turns to you first and smiles, “Are you alright?” You nod once, return her smile, and you both turn to the slumbering man. She says, folding her blanket, “He’s fine. Calmed down after you fell asleep. He said he had a nightmare that you had turned against us. He said he wants to apologize but understands if you don’t want to speak to him.” You sigh through your nose, glancing over at him, “That’s okay. I think I would like some time away from him though. Just to process things, y’know?” Cee turns to face you, “That’s what I figured. I told him that.” You look at her and nod once.

She gets up and stretches again, folded blanket still in hand. She puts it on her seat and looks up at you excitedly, “Want to come look for aurelac with me today?”

“Definitely.”

Her face lights up with a wide smile and you mirror her reaction. Getting up and dropping your blankets to the floor, you go over to the compartment in the wall that holds your equipment. You take out what you’ll need - suit, helmet, air filter and a few Slurry Packs - and close the latch. The door slams shut harder than you intended, the resulting crash jolting Ezra awake.

A shy, apologetic smile graces his face as he meets your eyes, and you return the expression. You were still tightly wound, but were ready to start dispelling the fear, and that began by being cordial with him. His smile fades when his eyes lower to your hands and take in what you are holding. He gets up off the floor and inquires, “What do you have all that for?” His expression is neutral, but you worry that you will anger him by telling him what your plans are.

He had made it very clear since you joined him and Cee that he did not want you to prospect. He had told you that it was too dangerous of a task in itself, let alone the implications that came along with it: bartering, lying, gambling, stealing, killing. He didn’t want you or Cee to be subjected to any any of the horrors that accompanied prospecting, but Cee had been stubborn about her desires and had proven her abilities. She was great at prospecting, possessing an attention to tedium and an unwavering sense of calmness while performing the task. For a man who seeps with wisdom, Ezra wasn’t all that good of a prospector. He had the tendency to lose patience and cripple under pressure, which sometimes led to compromised digs.

“I’m going to look for aurelac deposits with Cee.” You nudge your head in her direction and she smiles at Ezra. He waves his hand dismissively, “That’s all fine and dandy,” now pointing a lazy yet warning finger at you, “But don’t you dare let prospecting dance upon those beautiful brain waves of yours.” His comment irritated you. You had never shown any signs of true disobedience to his wishes, besides the casual sigh of boredom or the bratty roll of your eyes. The words also set your heart aflutter. As you try to hide your blush and bury your annoyance, Cee says to him, “We don’t be doing any prospecting if we can’t find any aurelac.” His head tilts in agreement. He pads over to you and gingerly puts a hand on your shoulder. He had sensed your irritation and repeats his mantra of why he doesn’t want you prospecting, “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Your anger became fiery again. Shoulder jerking to flick his hand off, you jab at him, “Because I’m safe in the confines of the pod?”

He points a finger at you again, this time accusatory, “That was purely an accident. Do not take it as anything but.”

Cee commands, “Both of you, stop, now. I’m not dealing with this all day. It was an accident. An inexcusable one, but an accident.”

Your and Ezra’s eyebrows had shifted to take on the same irate slope, however you both decide to just let it drop. You visibly signal your concession by dropping your shoulders and Ezra reflects you. He spins on his heels to open his own equipment hatch, and you turn to the wall yours is on. You all face the walls and change into your suits, a ritual of trust and time efficiency you decided on when the three of you agreed to work as a group.

Once dressed, you exit the pod, Ezra being first and Cee being last, and embark on your daily journey. The Sun had retreated behind some dark grey clouds. The sky was a royal blue, the ground was greige and the dark foliage that surround you drips with dew. You were stationed on the Blue Moon, an orbiting moon in the Bakhroma System. This place wasn’t highly traveled like its permanent sister (the Green Moon), due to the popular aftermath of the Aurelac Rush. Although Cee and Ezra had been there and left, many people in the galaxy still went to try and scoop up some valuable remains. Unlike The Green, The Blue wasn’t known for its abundant aurelac deposits, which is precisely why your partners chose to come here.

Their original plan was to travel to The Blue with just themselves, but while on a stop to Puggart Bench you had entranced Ezra while Cee tried to scope out her old friends and catch up with them before she set off on another mission. Demonstrating your eagerness to explore the galaxy and your expansive knowledge of it, Ezra decided to add you to his partnership. It didn’t hurt that you also tried to express your attraction to him, complimenting the rugged floater on his impressive vocabulary. He had complimented you on your willingness to listen to his ramblings, and it had been love ever since. Neither of you had come out directly and said “I love you”, and you hadn’t partaken in any physical affection, but your yearning for each other could not be more understood. His adoration for you only deepened when he saw how you interacted with Cee. Being closer to her generation than Ezra’s, you were able to connect with her like contemporaries. However, you were far enough away from her age group to the point where Ezra couldn’t act as a father figure to you. This duality made you irresistible to him.

Back to the present, you gaze at the back of his helmet intently, waiting to see what his plan of action for the day is. The Green requires visitors to wear air-tight suits and breathe through air filtration systems at all times because of harmful spores that float in the atmosphere. The Blue’s spores are far less harmful, and helmets can be taken off for 45 minute intervals, but the three of you only took them off when the confinement of the helmets became a little too much. The glass window of Ezra’s helmet swivels to you and he asks, “Split up, hourly check-ins, reconvene for lunch?”

As you’re thinking of your answer, you notice his eyes dart repeatedly up and down your body. You can tell by the way his mouth is slightly parted that he isn’t assessing your body language to predict your response. He’s thinking about all of the ways he would devour you for apology’s sake.

You look to Cee in the middle of your answer, “Sure. I’ll go with Cee today.” She smiles at you and turns to him. His mouth closes and he looks down to fiddle with his radio with thick-gloved fingers, “I’ll be on channel one.” Cee says, “Okay,” and beckons you to follow her as she sets off on a worn path. You and Ezra look at each other one more time before you turn in opposite directions and begin your divergent treks.

Catching up to Cee by jogging, your steps slow to match her pace once you are by her side. There’s silence between the two of you for a little while as you weave your way through trees of varying heights, eyes keeping to the ground to spot humps in the dirt. Humps gave away the location of aurelac deposits. A couple of slips were shared between the two of you as you climbed over hills and shuffled through valleys, the forest floor littered with puddles. What The Green has in vegetation, The Blue has in water. There were multiple lakes, some touting depths that are only achievable by advanced marine technology. Rainstorms are common, but they never grow to something like a hurricane. Everything was doused in a blue hue, whether it was the air, the water or the plants. The spores in the air resembled stagnant raindrops, peculiar in the way that they seemed to stay in their place in the atmosphere.

Cee broke the silence, “So, are you okay?” You know exactly what she is referring to and answer, “Yeah. Still a bit shaken up and confused, but other than that I guess I’m fine. I can feel bruises where his hands were.” She turns around to look at you and you lift your chin for her to see. She grimaces and says, “Yeah, you can see where each finger was and everything.” You look down, feeling disappointed that the event even happened. You ask her, “So he had a nightmare about me?” You watch the back of her helmet as she nods, “Yep. He just said that he thought you were going to endanger the three of us. He didn’t say in what way, really, just that you were a threat.” You take a moment to process the information and then fire off another question, “So, I have nightmares too, but I don’t act on them in real life. So why did he do what he did? Is there, like, an underlying feeling of distrust that he has for me, or...?” She started shaking her head halfway through your last sentence, “No, no, not at all. It’s just that The Green was so traumatic that I can understand just how vivid nightmares about it can be. And even though I don’t know much about what he went through before I met him on The Green, I’m sure prospecting was just as dangerous as it is now. I wouldn’t be surprised if at one point, or at a million points, someone that he trusted backstabbed him. But it’s nothing personal against you at all.” You nod and take in her words, trying to reassure yourself that you can trust him, even though he had done everything he could to prove you otherwise the night prior.

Cee stops and turns to you, chuckling, “If anything-”

A short sound on your radios cuts her off, and Ezra’s voice comes through the speakers, “How are you little birds coming along?”

Cee answers, “Fine. No deposits yet. What about you?” She grins at you, not forgetting to finish her comment as soon as he leaves the two of you alone.

“Nothing. I’ll be shocked if we stumble across any hint of a deposit today. Like every day. Over and out.”

You look at her, eager to hear what she has to say. This only widens her smile, and she rolls her eyes as she begins, “Like I was saying.” You both laugh as she continues, “If anything, you’re the best thing that’s happened to him. I’ve never seen his eyes light up so much at anything like they do when he looks at you.” You blush and look down at your feet shyly. She gives you a playful shove and knocks you out of your butterfly-ridden trance. Her tone changes serious as she sighs, her pitch dropping a little bit lower than normal, “You really don’t have to worry about him hurting you or me. He’s just fucked up from our time on The Green. I am too, but I experienced it in a slightly different way, and deal with it differently too. I mean, I lost my father, but he killed two other people. It got us out of there, but that’s probably going to haunt him for the rest of his life. And since it was recent, he’s still trying to figure out how to handle the whole thing. I’m not making any excuses for him, because he didn’t have any reason to attack you, regardless of any dream, but he seriously wouldn’t do that under any other circumstances.” She puts an assuring hand on your shoulder and smiles. You smile back and nod once in understanding, saying, “I believe you.” She pats your back, and you both turn to continue on your walk. A few moments pass, and she lets out another laugh. You teasingly ask her with a smile on your face, “What is it now?”

“I mean, it’s obvious that Ezra’s been through some shit, because the guy’s fucking weird as hell.” Your helmets are filled with your cackling as thoughts of the strange man play out in your head. Cee jokes, “I mean, little bird? His confusing speech pattern in general? Someone who talks in crosswords is either an ancient person who is trying to be clever in their last days because that’s the only form of strength they have left or just some asshole who finds enjoyment in verbally tricking people.” Another few moments of giggling pass before she ends with, “And what’s with the drawl?” She turns to you, the injuries in your throat burning from laughing so hard, “Have you ever heard someone else, in the entire Bakhroma System, talk like that?” You shake your head while wheezing and she says, “I haven’t either. So how did that weirdo even get here?”

The surrounding forests may be quiet, but the inside of your suits are filled with the joyful laughter of two friends who continue on their merry way to find some aurelac.

What yesterday lacked in aurelac, it made up for in emotional gains. You had spent the rest of the day with Cee, strengthening your tender bond, exploring the terrain that The Blue had to offer. Ezra kept to his promise and checked in on you two hourly, making sure that you hadn’t run into any other travelers or went too far off the grid. Your group hadn’t crossed paths with any other citizens of the galaxy since you landed, which didn’t surprise or disappoint any of you; the three of you needed some peacetime for regrouping.

You start today by scanning the pod’s dashboard of lights to make sure nothing is out of order. Because of his contempt to the idea of you prospecting, Ezra had assigned you to be the pod’s programmer. Pods were cheap to rent, so they were justifiably subject to malfunctions. Given that Cee and Ezra were tasked with mapping out The Blue and harvesting aurelac, you obliged to take the responsibility of operating the astronomical vehicle. The other job you had been given was keeper of the harvested aurelac. Once in its containers, you were to check on the gems every day and make sure that none had cracked during transport. The problem is that you haven’t had any luck at finding such valuables. It has been documented that The Blue does contain aurelac, but that it is extremely difficult to find. However, the average gem on The Blue is thrice the size of that which The Green holds. So the size and abundance differences are a lawful tradeoff.

While you’re analyzing a digital screen on the dashboard, an expressive yawn escapes a man’s mouth. You twist to see Ezra stretching his arm out, eyes and nose scrunched in delight at the wringing out of his muscles. A smile graces your face as you take in his exaggerated display of awakening, and he mirrors your smile when he opens his eyes. His arm relaxes at his side, and a raspy morning voice greets you, “Hi.” You smirk at his unadorned statement and say back, “Hi.” He holds your gaze for a moment before turning to pick his mechanical arm up off the floor next to him. After losing his arm on The Green, his prospecting abilities fell drastically. He had to take out a loan to pay for the artificial limb, but it would restore his talents, so it was a fair deal. That’s why the three of you had gone on this mission, rather than building your friendship on Puggart Bench: to harvest aurelac to repay the loan.

Cee grabs both you and Ezra’s attention as she wakes with a start. Getting up and out of her pilot’s chair, she merrily folds her blankets and marches over to her equipment hatch. You and Ezra share a look of bewilderment, and he questions, “Good morning?” She flips around to you both, forgetting that you were in the pod with her. She cheers, “Good morning!” Reading the two confused expressions that watch her, she explains, “I want to go and look at this area that we missed yesterday. It has a lot of hills, so maybe that’s an indicator of more deposits. I was going to look at it yesterday, but then we came together for lunch, and I completely forgot about it until now.” Noting that she is the only one in the pod that is anywhere near awake, she asks both you and Ezra, “Is it okay if I go by myself?”

Memories of the last 36 hours flicker in your head, discomforting your nerves. It’s not that you don’t trust Ezra, but you don’t trust Ezra. The outburst that he had the other night frightened the shit out of you, and you’ve been wary to interact with him at all, let alone without Cee present to diffuse the situation if it got too tense. The fear he had shoved upon you was still fresh, but the excitement in Cee’s face and your tiresome brain convinced you that it would be okay. Maybe during this time alone you could patch things up with him. Him and Cee had given you a general rundown of what had happened on The Green when you first met, but you could prod Ezra about the details. Hopefully you could uncover some explanations to his night terrors.

You look over at him to gauge his reaction to her proposition, and he’s staring at you with puppy-dog eyes. His mouth is turned up in a soft smile, and you can’t help but grin at the way his hair is still unruly from his sleep. Suddenly you feel a pleasant heat between your legs, and you can’t tell if it’s just your body waking up or the overwhelming desire to pepper a million kisses over the sleepy man’s face. Refusing to admit to yourself that the latter is the true culprit of your wetness, you shake your head slightly to rock you out of your trance and say to Cee, “Yeah, that would be fine.” Ezra’s smile at you widens before he turns to Cee and inputs, “I concur. Like always, just be sure to watch your surroundings carefully. You’ll find us here when you return.” She nods once and turns to her equipment hatch, signaling you and Ezra to turn to yours as well to give her some privacy as she changes. Once changed, she closes her hatch, puts her helmet on and departs, “I’ll be on channel one. See you guys later!” You and Ezra both give halfhearted waves, still too tired to formulate any meaningful words. The door to the pod closes behind her, and you are alone with Ezra.

The anticipation of being alone with him made you more anxious than how you feel now, letting your eyes fall to the man still on the floor. He’s already looking up at you, the lazy smile still pulling at his cheeks. The desire to invite yourself into his bed, wrap yourself in his blankets and limbs in order to match the warmth that is flooding your genitals, and doze off into a lustful nap tries to take over your mind. You fight it with everything you have and make your way over to your pilot’s chair. Positioning yourself so that you’re facing Ezra, he simply asks you, “Hungry?” You nod your head and he reaches behind himself. His hand reappears with a Bits Bar, tossing it to you. The only sounds that fill the pod are the crinkling of the wrappers and your respective chewing. Although you’re both preoccupied with eating, Ezra’s silence is deafening. He tended to drop his confusing lingo when talking to you, since he wasn’t trying to trick you. He hadn’t had the courage to reveal his true feelings to you yet, which will be so poetic and heartfelt it will make you sick to your stomach, so he stuck to simple statements. He wanted you to note the difference between his conversations with you and other people, so he made it a very clear point to forgo his prose and expansive vocabulary. He wanted you to note that he revealed his truest sentiments to you and tried his best to hide them from others.

The peaceful nature of the morning encouraged you to bring up an irritating topic with him, “I only want to prospect because I want to help you guys.” He tries to keep his eyes on his food, knowing that looking into your eyes will ignite his possessive and protective nature, “I know that. And it doesn’t matter how many motives you come up with, birdie, there will never be a time when you’re in my care that you will prospect. That’s the extent that I will let this conversation fester to.” His dismissive demeanor infuriates you. You fire back at him, trying not to let your tension leak into your voice, “I’m not Cee. You are not my parent or my guardian, you’re my partner. So there’s no social expectation that I have to submit to your desires.” His irritation grows, entertaining his fingers by folding the wrapper, “That is technically true. But a good partner will never put their partner at risk. And I have deemed it risky for you to prospect.” His retaliation sets you off. You didn’t want this to turn into an argument, but you also don’t want to back down from this. Your eyebrows crease together in frustration, your arms cross and your mouth sets itself in a frown.

He looks up from his distraction and becomes infuriated by your look. Now he’s pissed. He begins a verbal knife fight, “Maybe if you had experienced what it’s like to have a shitty partner, you would appreciate my efforts to protect you.”

“I’m not ungrateful.”

“In a way, you are. You abandoned everything you had on Puggart Bench once you met me and Cee. You had friends, a nice family, a stable living situation, a good education. Don’t blame me for a position that you put yourself in.”

“First of all, that’s how it looked to you. Second, a good education in prospecting! Maybe if you weren’t staring at my ass every second of every day, you would have asked me what I was studying. I can probably prospect better than you can.”

“I’d find pure, mocking enjoyment in seeing you try to harvest. I would bet my life that I can prospect better than you can, even with my impediment!” He motions to his mechanical arm.

“You wouldn’t have the impediment if you weren’t so fucking devious! And don’t even get me started on the arrogance, or the fucking pretentiousness!”

Your overheated exchange comes to a halt when the pod’s door opens. Cee climbs in, and you and Ezra try to mask your fury for each other as much as you can. She acknowledges the two of you and says, “Just need an air filter.” The atmosphere turns awkward as you watch her get what she needs out of her hatch. She’s leaving as soon as she came in, and you hold up a parting hand and say, “Be safe. Have fun.” She tilts her chin at you, and Ezra chimes in, “Be safe, Sparrow.” She exits, disappearing into The Blue.

Her interruption quelled the fire that burned between you and Ezra, subsequently drowning you in a wave of guilt over your words. Ezra’s looking down at his hands, shadows keeping his expression unreadable. You uncross your arms in defeat as you feel tears gather on your bottom eyelids. Opening your mouth to apologize, Ezra puts his hand up and directs, “Don’t apologize.” You protest, “But-” He cuts you off, “Don’t. Apologize.” You audibly sigh and sit back in your chair, not facing him anymore. You wish you could just kiss him. It would shut the both of you up and finally bring your shared, passionate feelings to the surface. Instead you opt to stare at the program board in front of you. How sexy. Such allure. You roll your eyes at your own naivety.

Both of you sit and replay all of the moments that led you to the peak that you sit atop, questioning how to safely start the descent. You decide to break the silence with a neutral topic, “Why do you call her Sparrow?” Staying turned away from each other, Ezra answers, “Well, now that I have two little birds in my life, I have to distinguish them.” Your heart glows at his comment, but it’s not enough to wipe the somber expression off of your face.

“Why Sparrow though?”

“She’s adaptable. She’s been able to keep a sane mind while traveling through Puggart Bench, The Green, The Ephrate, The Blue. The presence of others doesn’t deter her from her work, yet she’s not aloof to their existence.”

His musings entertain you. Your anger begins to become a thing of the past as you get off of your chair and sit down on the floor a few feet away from him. Being on a literal level playing field only increases your ease.

“What are you?”

He smirks, “A magpie.”

“I should’ve known.”

You share a bit of laughter before he explains, “I’m intelligent in trickery. I take pride in my illusions, but that’s not all I possess. Once I find my mate, I become protective of them, sometimes to the point of absurdity. A magpie male and female share the brunt of building a nest; as all great relationships should split the responsibility of reconciliation equally.” Regarding his last sentence, he raises one eyebrow at you. You stretch your legs out so that the soles of your shoes touch his.

“Magpies mate for life.”

You break your eye contact. You have grown shy from his pointed allusions, so you playfully fiddle his feet with yours. A moment passes before he says, “You’re a snow goose.” Confused, you look up at him, “A snow goose?” He nods enthusiastically, “Yes, a snow goose.” You shake your head, giggling, “I’ve never heard of those.” He leans forward with shock, “Really?” “Yep.” He shakes his head once and stands up to open his equipment hatch above you. He pulls out a book and sits back down, this time beside you. All About Birds. You assume the birds are alphabetized as you watch him flip the book open about 4/5 of the way through, and he presents you with a page: “Snow Goose”. Amused by the fact that he wasn’t lying, you let out a laugh. He laughs with you, “My Goose needs to brush up on her avian animal knowledge.” A minute has to pass before the cackling subsides. Then he paraphrases, “Snow geese are another adaptable bird, preferring to travel in packs. They roost mainly in bodies of water: marshes, ponds, the like. Ringing true to stereotypes of the general breed, they are very territorial of their property once they claim what is theirs. Snow geese have a brilliant white coat, which I equate to your magnificent aura. They are similar to magpies in that they mate for life.”

You look up from the book and are greeted with chocolate eyes glazed in infatuation. Thighs and arms pressed together, you turn to rest your chin on Ezra’s shoulder. Flickering eyes go back and forth between his eyes and his lips, signaling to him that if he wanted to kiss you, you wouldn’t object. He inserts, “Snow geese also don’t lack in paying homage to their reputation of being loud bitches.” You gasp and lay a swat on his chest as he chuckles away at his poking. After he has had his fill of laughing, you return to your resting place on his shoulder and let out a sigh.

A few quiet moments go by before you look up at him and admire the handsome, irritating, brave, stubborn, loving man who are you enamored with. You reach your hand up and comb your fingers through his hair once, twice. He leans into your hand as you continue to brush his locks, “Ezra?” He hums, eyes closing rapidly from the lulling pleasure you’re giving him, “Mm-hm?” You whisper, “I’m sorry.” A stark contrast from earlier, he allows your apology. He opens his eyes and they’re dripping with honest remorse and helpless romance, “I’m sorry too.”

Yesterday didn’t amount to what you had originally planned to accomplish, but it was still a good day. Despite all of the insult hurling and badmouthing, you and Ezra ended the day on a nice note. Getting to the bottom of his nightmares could wait for another time. You both had needed a day of fun together to put aside your hostilities before you embarked on discussing trauma. Cee had returned without a problem, hands void of aurelac but filled with notes of The Blue’s landscape.

You wake up, startled, All About Birds slipping off of your lap and onto the floor. You had sliced it out of Ezra’s dormant fingers after he had fallen asleep, your curiosity piqued from his earlier paraphrasing. Cee’s awake and bustling about in the pod, trying to find something, anything, to eat that isn’t a Bits Bar or a Slurry Pack. As you lean over to pick the book up from the floor, you catch Ezra’s eyes on you.

He’s standing at his equipment hatch, doing some much needed cleaning up. He’s a traveler who believes in organized chaos, that putting things in their “right” place takes up too much valuable time.

You smile up at him shyly and as you sit back upright with the book in your hands he says, “Did you find any specimens that better suit us?” You shake your head, “No, you were pretty damn spot on with your choices.” He flashes a smug grin, one that paints your face pink with amusement. Cee plops down in her chair with a huff of defeat, unwrapping a Bits Bar. Ezra hears her and says, “(Y/N) and I will take today’s assignment, Cee. You’ve warranted yourself a break after your ingenious expeditioning yesterday.” She says, “Good, because my legs feel like jelly.” The three of you laugh and you get up and rush to your equipment hatch. With your and Ezra’s friendship on its way to restoration, you were excited to find what the day would hold. The two of you get dressed in a flash, and you tell Cee before putting on your helmet, “We’ll be on channel one, like always.” She sticks a thumb up from behind her chair, and with that you and Ezra are on your way out of the pod.

The rays of the Sun today are periwinkle, streaming through small gaps in the overhanging vegetation. The air is tinted royal blue, the trees shimmer with teal sparkles, the soil a shade of navy. You inhale deeply as if you can smell the fresh air through your air filter, imagining a place where you could be with your gang without all of this clumsy equipment, without giving up the majesty that this landscape has.

Ezra snaps you out of your daydream, “Where to today, Snow Goose?”

You pull out a map from a pocket on your back and scan it, looking for any uncharted territory. “Let’s go west today. There’s a big chunk of land that we haven’t documented yet.”

He nods and begins your quest by turning to the left and walking. You follow him, folding the map and keeping it in your hands. Little conversation is shared between the two of you for the first bit of the journey and the silences aren’t awkward. The majority of your time is spent looking up, admiring the scenery as the Sun comes up and illuminates more of the land. Different hues of blue are unearthed as light reaches deeper crevices: the underside of leaves show turquoise veins, the inside of a hollowed tree trunk boasts a purplish-blue hybrid. The puddles on the ground vary in shape, size, depth and color, and are scattered about the ground in an oddly methodical fashion.

After a while of marveling at the sights, you regret getting dressed so quickly. You hadn’t brushed your hair properly, and the braid you had put it in was loose. Rubbing against your helmet with all of your head turning, the braid had fallen almost completely out of his shape and it was threatening to combine with your sweat to mold to your face. You instinctively put your hands to your helmet to try to push it out of your way, but you are met with glass resistance. Ezra, peeking over his broad shoulder to make sure he hadn’t lost you, notices your frustration, “Let me help you with that.” You furrow your eyebrows at him and wave off his help, “No, it’s okay. I’ll deal with it.” He shook his head quickly and spins on his heels, looking around and spots two conveniently placed tree stumps, one behind the other, that will accommodate te his fantasy. He gestures to them, “Have a seat, Goose.”

You stand there, not wanting to indulge in the dream. This was just as much of a dream for you as it is for Ezra. He watched you, everyday before you went out of the pod, braid your hair and willed that one day it would be his hands that would twist your smooth locks. And everyday you braided your hair, you would envision him standing behind you, concentrating hard on his handiwork, his hot breath cascading down the back of your neck, his knuckles grazing your back. Ezra starts walking over to the stumps and motions for you to follow.

You obey his command and sit down on the seat in front of his, scooting back so that he doesn’t have to reach very far to touch you. A depressing gasp fills the air as you detach your helmet and set it in your lap. Ezra’s gloves appear over your shoulder, “Can you hold these for me?” You were already turned on enough by the thought of him braiding your hair, now he would be braiding your hair with naked fingers and you got to hold the battered material that guarded those impossibly large hands almost everyday? Yeah, this is an illusion. You wait to wake up from your slumber. but are reminded that this situation is very real when Ezra’s fingers reach around your head to brush the sweaty hairs out of your face. His touch is gentle, unlike from the incident a few days ago. Now that you aren’t fighting for your life, you can take in the small, romantic details that you didn’t notice before. The pads of his fingers are rough but not scratchy. You see his fingernails, neatly trimmed and free from any sort of grime. How he pulls off that sorcery while being a prospector, regardless of the gloves, you will never know.

You tense as his fingers glide over your bruised neck, collecting your hair and bringing it all to your back. He holds your hair in one hand while the other stutters on a bruise. He senses your unease and strangles out, “I’m sorry.” You grip his gloves a little tighter, trying to fight your tears from spilling, and shake your head slightly, “It’s okay.” You’re ready to move past it. It’s important to remember that it happened, but you’re ready to rebuild your relationship. Like he jabbed at you the other day, leaving Puggart Bench had been tough for you. You worry that your leaving left behind permanent scars that would impact the relationships you had there. Ezra and Cee feel like the only friendships that you can count on to last. You need them.

Knocking you out of your despair, Ezra pulls your hair to one of your shoulders and rests his chin on the other. He turns his head so that his breath spills across your bare neck. He runs a finger lightly across a bruise and asks, mouth millimeters away from your skin, “May I?” You nod, and he plants an imperceptibly light kiss on your neck. You let a tear dribble down your cheek, wiping it away as quickly as it ran.

A thought enters your mind: my god, his lips are soft as fuck. The combination of the softness with the tickling of his patchy facial hair was heavenly, if not orgasmic. You giggle at your own thoughts* (*thots), intriguing Ezra, “What is it?” You decide to be transparent, “Nothing, it’s just that your mouth is soft as fuck.” A hearty laugh erupts from his chest, “Now I don’t want to put an end to your seductive observations, Goose, but I want this to be an innocent affair.” You smile and sit up straight, letting him know that you are willing to drop the flirtation. For now.

His fingers separate your hair into three sections and he says, referencing the other day, “As a treaty to our battles, I would like to clarify that I don’t think you’re ungrateful.” A soft smile graces your face and you input your own treatise, “And I don’t think you’re arrogant or fucking pretentious. You are a little devious though.”

He chuckles, “If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be the scoundrel that I am, now would I?”

You shake your head no. No, he wouldn’t be the scoundrel that you are not so secretively in love with. As you sit there, enjoying the limited amount of time you are allowed with your helmet off, the details of your dreams prove to be true: you can feel Ezra’s concentrated breath warm the nape of your neck, his knuckles tap your suit when he twists your hair a certain way. You yearn for the day that you will be able to touch each other, feel each other’s true weight and texture, without the suits getting in the way.

“So, if you’re so good at prospecting, why don’t you tell me how you do it?”

His tone is playful and your situation could not be more peaceful, so you decide to indulge him, “Well, first you have to find a deposit, which is usually indicated by a lump in the ground.”

He verifies your first step, “Uh-huh...?”

“Then you want to pour a solution into the deposit’s hole. You don’t want to pour too much though, or else it could cause an explosion.”

Ezra’s hands stop. You turn and ask him, “Is everything okay?” He nods, his eyes first staring off into the landscape and then refocusing once they land on you. He continues to involuntarily nod as he says, “That’s what permitted Cee and I to escape The Green. She threw an entire pint of solution into a deposit. Nearly blew the entire place to bits.”

You feel rude when you realize that your mouth is hanging open in shock. You close your mouth and words about his time on The Green tumble out of his, “I am devious, indeed. But there were people--beings--there that would make me look like an angel. I take responsibility for killing Cee’s father because he tried to hijack my stash. A man’s work is no petty thing, Goose. I ended up having to kill two others there, in the end. I overestimated our luck after the first one, thinking that it would’ve been a simple escape. I killed the other mercilessly. You see now, Goose, the dangers that I encountered on The Green alone. I would never be able to forgive myself if I allowed you into harm’s way, and you became a tragedy.”

You reach a hand out and cup his face, which he leans into. He still holds onto your hair, your braid halfway done, and you say, “I was ungrateful, and I’m sorry for that.” He shakes his head once, taking your hand from his face and kissing your palm, “Now you see why I wanted to strangle you in my nightmare. I dreamt that you were someone else, some other thing, that was threatening to drag our trio back to that wretched land.” You both breathe out a shaky laugh, trying to lighten the mood. Even though it was nervous, you are glad that the both of you are taking some steps in the right direction.

He clears his throat and sits up straight, “Now, after you dodge an eruption, what is the next step of prospecting?”

You face ahead and let him continue your braid as you speak, “Next you want to remove the husk from the deposit, and cut the cord that connects the two. Then you want to remove the inner membrane from the husk.”

He quizzes you, “And what’s inside the inner membrane?”

“The aurelac gem.”

“Correct. Continue.”

“Then you want to cut out any blisters, but if you cut too carelessly you could puncture it, which will release acid. If that happens then the gem ceases to be worth anything.”

“That’s where my expertise usually falters.”

“Finally you want to remove the gem from the inner membrane, douse it in fazer solution, and you have your stone.”

He tests you again, “What is the purpose of the fazer solution?”

“To stabilize the gem and increase its clarity. Higher clarity grants higher payout.”

He pats your shoulder twice and ties your hair off with the hair tie you used for your loose braid, “Fantastic job, Goose. Couldn’t have explained it better myself.” He stands, walks around your stumps and holds a hand out to you. You take it, even though you were perfectly capable of getting up yourself. You got to hand him his gloves, and he stops you, “Wait a minute.” Both of his hands come to the sides of your face and push a few stray hairs behind your ears; the finishing touches to his masterpiece. You can tell he did a good job without having to look at it, since it didn't feel too loose or too tight, and the problem you had before was now solved. His tongue darts out and runs the edge of his bottom lip before he takes a step back, throwing his hands up, “Voila!” You giggle, eliciting a smile from Ezra wide enough to make the skin around his eyes crinkle in happiness. You hand him his gloves, which he puts on before you both secure your helmets back to your suits.

Ezra checks in with Cee, “Everything alright, Sparrow?”

A few seconds pass before she answers, “Yep, just listening to my music. Everything alright on your end?”

“Affirmative. We’ll be staying outside for lunch. Over and out.”

Ezra’s eyes gaze into yours for a brief moment before they move past your shoulder, eyebrows raised and mouth agape. You ask, “What?” before turning and following his stare. A patch of undisturbed soil, littered with lumps. In his rush by you, Ezra grabs your hand and pulls you along with him as you run to the potential aurelac deposits, laughing at his enthusiasm. He halts at the brink of the field, choosing which one he wants to dig up first. You suggest, “Why don’t we start from the outside and work our way in?” He nods, “That’s a great idea,” and drops to his knees. You stare at the mound in front of him as you sink down to the ground, pulling out your map. You mark where this field is located as he preps his harvesting tools. Once he’s prepared, he sighs and takes your hand, “Do you want to help me, Goose?”

You nearly spring to your feet with excitement, “Would I ever!”

He beams at your reaction and begins the process by clearing the dirt away from the mound to reveal the deposit. “How about for this first time, you just hand me the tools?” You nod, taking this as slowly as he wants to, “Whatever you’d like.” He grins as he cuts a hole in the deposit, knife already in hand. “Solution,” he requests. You hand him the bottle and he does the honor of pouring it over the deposit. A white steam emits from the hole, and he reaches in and grabs the husk. “Let me cut this cord, you can do the next one.” You agree and watch as he cuts it with his knife. He places the husk on a flat patch of land and requests his next tool, “Scalpel.” You hand him a Ralon Crusader Laser Scalpel and watch him work.

Laser scalpels are primarily used for precision work, like this step and the removal of blisters, while any generic knives will do the job when cutting the cord or opening up the deposit.

You watch as he makes an incision in the husk, handing you back the tool once he’s done. He wrangles the inner membrane out of the husk and holds his hand out. You know that he wants the scalpel back, and you give it to him. He flashes you a smile for your readiness, but then hands you the scalpel back. You take it, confused, and he says, “I’d like you to cut the blisters off of this one.”

Your pupils narrow and your muscles grow tense. You know the steps of prospecting backwards and forwards, but you had never carried out a lab experiment, let alone prospected aurelac in the wild. Ezra lays a gentle hand on your forearm, “I have eternal faith in you, Goose.” You move toward the membrane and turn the scalpel on. Ezra holds it steady for you as you go to remove the blister. There’s only one, which is a slight relief. You plunge the scalpel into the membrane, thinking that the skin would be thicker, and a hiss greets you. You pull back as the membrane deflates and an amber liquid seeps from it, the hissing never stopping. Your mortified eyes look up into Ezra’s and you immediately apologize, “I’m so sorry, Ezra, I thought that-” He raises a hand, “It is not a big deal in the slightest, Goose. I’ve never come across a prospector that didn’t puncture the membrane, or fail to mix the fazer solution correctly the first time.” He senses your lingering humiliation and grabs your shoulders, turning you even more towards himself, “Really, it’s fine.” You want to melt into his hands, crawl into his lap and just hide there until you feel better, but you know that you have to move on.

He points to the mound behind you, “Let’s try that one.” You stay on the ground and move the tools with you, while Ezra stands and walks over before he squats. You hand him the knife, watch him repeat the process and hand him tools as he needs them: slice the deposit, squirt in the solution, remove the husk, sever the cord, open the husk, take the membrane out. He looks to you, “I want you to try again.” Turning the scalpel on, its vibrations feel more vigorous against your heightened nerves than they did last time. Ezra assumes his position of securing the slippery pod, and you begin cutting. Again only one blister, you circle the blemish with the blade. Once the circle is complete, Ezra reminds you, “It’s easiest to pull it off with your fingers.” You follow his directions, turning the instrument off and setting it to the side. You pull on sticky flesh, and the part that you cut comes off easily. Ezra sighs, “Incredible.” Sliding his fingers in between the membrane and the aurelac, he pulls the rock out and discards the pouch. He calls for the fazer solution, which you hand him and watch as he washes the gem with it. Another hissing sound can be heard, much quieter than the one that came when you punctured the membrane. He holds the aurelac up to the blue Sun, and both of you observe, amazed, at how the light shines through the gem. Aurelac is an amber-hued stone, sometimes with ripples in the color, encased in a foggy crystal. The blue light complements the orange shade of the gem exquisitely.

Ezra turns to you, eyes bright with satisfaction, hands muddied with gristle, “Superb job, Goose!” He leans into you, helmet shields touching and reaches forward to kiss your glass. You smile and laugh with him in gratification. You can’t wait to harvest the rest of the mounds with your partner.

A warmth you have never felt before bestows itself to you this early morning. It flourishes in your heart and subsequently pumps through your body, reaching from the crown of your head all the way down to the soles of your feet. It stretches from your ribs to the ends of your fingertips, running in cycles back and forth. The cause of this pleasure was not from the large aurelac haul you had pulled yesterday, but from the man that you harvested with. Ezra’s arms encircle you, heavy with sleep. You’re swaddled in his blankets with him, the depths of sleep tempting you to fall back down to their level of subconscious. The Sun hasn’t risen yet.

You had crawled into Ezra’s awaiting lap after Cee had fallen asleep the night before. It wasn’t that you felt like you had to hide your feelings from her, but the dynamic still made you feel a little bit awkward, even with Ezra’s reassurance and Cee’s encouragement to pursue him. You would feel more comfortable if she were to wake up and find the two of you in your designated sleeping arrangements, and not in an amorous yet innocent entanglement of limbs.

You can practically feel a rainbow sprout from your chest as you look up at Ezra, finding delight in his relaxed expression. His hair is messy not from the tossing and turning of a restless night’s sleep, but the enamored strokes of a yearning partner’s fingers. The whirlwind of malachite butterflies in your stomach nudges you away from sleep. You press your hands into Ezra’s chest, where they have been resting, and turn to nuzzle your nose into his collarbone before you start to slip out of his embrace. Gently lifting his arms off of you in an effort to keep him asleep, you fail. He cups the side of your face and rubs his thumb back and forth against your cheek a few times before he lets his arm fall to his side. He gives you a smile of understanding, allowing you to leave him only because he will dream about holding onto you for forever once he drifts off again. You give him a playful boop on his nose before you stand and trudge over to your pilot’s chair, sinking down into your own cold blankets. You try your best to recreate the heat you just deserted by bundling yourself up tight, but it’s not the same. However uncomfortable, you quickly succumb to the temptation of sleep.

The true morning gives rise to an energetic group of prospectors. Still joyful about yesterday’s collection, you, Cee and Ezra are enthusiastic to stroll around The Blue again and see what else could be in store for you. Stretching in your chair, Ezra grabs your raised hands and leans over the back of your seat. You look up into his eyes and he greets you, “Good morning, Goose.” You smile and tease, “Good morning, Magpie.”

Cee blurts out, “Finally, you give her a nickname too!” You and Ezra laugh as he releases your hands, and you turn to face Cee at her equipment hatch. “I like Magpie too. Very fitting,” she raises an eyebrow at Ezra and he shoots you a wink. You get up to fold your blanket, Ezra glides over to his own equipment hatch, and Cee says, “You know, I say you guys last night.” Your face instantly beats red, and Cee notices, “No, it’s fine. It makes me happy to see a couple that can get over obstacles and love each other through it all.” You still feel a bit embarrassed, but shrug it off.

A word she chose makes you question Ezra, “Are we a couple?”

“Of course. We’ve always been partners, haven’t we?”

Suited up, the three of you enter The Blue. After your daily assessment of the land (beautiful, as always) you turn to Cee and wait for her direction. She had mapped out the majority of the Blue Moon the day that you and Ezra stayed inside the pod, so you trusted her guidance the most. Ezra asks, “Where to today, birdies?” Cee analyzes the map before pointing to an area, “This block was filled with hills. It didn’t look like there were many deposits, but then again I’m not the best at spotting them.” Eager to start, you ask, “Which way do we go?” Ezra glances at the map, points to the right and commences your expedition, “This is the way.”

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#ezra x reader #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect #ezra fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #ezra x fem!reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pascalitos #found family trope #prospect 2018

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tallstars-rewrite · 3 years

Text

Chapter 38

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“So...where exactly are you heading now, Talltail?” Jake asked hesitantly.

Talltail stalked through the undergrowth, ears perked, tasting the air for ShadowClan as he went. He didn’t want to go after them, but if his hunch was right, they might be his best clue for finding what he was looking for.

“I’m sure this can’t be a coincidence,” he said. “Sparrow has always been untrustworthy, even his own family rarely knows where he is! I think he’s betrayed them to those ShadowClan cats. I just don’t know why.”

“Maybe they forced him?” Jake suggested.

“Or maybe Sparrow is just a fox-hearted bastard like I always knew he was. He doesn’t really care about any cat but himself. Whatever ShadowClan is doing out here, Sparrow will be there too. I can feel it.”

“Aaand your plan is…?”

“Not attacking a whole ShadowClan patrol if that’s what you're worried about. I want nothing to do with that bunch. If I can catch Sparrow alone for a moment, I may be able to get around personally confronting them.”

He thought then of the conversation between Stonetooth and Raggedpelt he’d eavesdropped on when he’d passed through their territory. They were looking for wandering apprentices...Could something be happening behind their backs as well? For all his hate of ShadowClan, even Cedarstar wasn’t known to mess with outsiders against clan law so blatantly. But those younger cats had a strange vendetta.

“Lool, we'll find your dog, and I'll keep a lookout. I just want to find where they’re all sneaking around, and then I’ll decide what to do,” Talltail said. “It’s possible these cats are acting on their own. I wouldn’t put it past Darkpaw’s friends to be tormenting random rogues just for fun.”

“Talltail,” Jake padded around ahead and stood in his way. “That still isn’t a plan. I feel like you're just throwing yourself blindly into one thing at a time and not thinking through what will actually happen. I know from experience that’s usually not a great strategy.”

“I know what I’m doing, Jake.” Talltail growled.

“Are you going to kill that Sparrow cat?” Jake’s voice was accusing but there was concern in his eyes.

For several heartbeats, they glared at each other in silence.

“I don’t know Jake. What did you think I was going to do?” Talltail’s voice quivered a bit. It almost surprised himself to say it out loud. But hadn’t the thought always been there somewhere, ever since he left? It angered him realizing he felt ashamed saying it. He was hoping he wouldn’t have to go into the details of this while Jake was still here.

“You don’t even fully understand what's happening!” Jake argued. “Whatever all this is, it’s got to be more complicated than one evil cat running around and doing bad stuff just for fun! You can’t really just mean to kill someone?”

“You don’t know how bad cats can be, Jake. Maybe I'm not as good as you thought I was, but I still have to do this.”

“You can’t think this is right,” Jake’s voice was pleading. “You’re just going to kill someone you barely know, and ignore everything around it?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think is right!” Talltail snapped and Jake winced slightly at the sudden sharpness of his voice. “This is what must be done. Sparrow deserves to pay, I won’t just let him walk away freely. This is the reason I came out here, it’s the only action I can take. I can’t fix the rest of the world, but I can do this, and I will.”

Jake didn’t break his glare. “Is this part of the warrior's code?”

“I don’t know. But I’m not a warrior anymore, I was never worthy of being one to begin with. So if I dishonor the code for this, it hardly matters. I’ve already dishonored my clan, at least I can make the world better off with one less rotten cat in it.”

“Who are you doing this for then?” Jake refused to move out of his way. “Your father again?” Talltail stared at him but Jake just continued. “Look, I didn’t want to say anything because I know a lot of this is over my head, but I do know what I see in you! And all I know is every time you look upset and I try to get you to tell me why, eventually it’s that cat you start talking about. First you're miserable and then you get mad and start looking for an excuse to do anything else so you don’t have to talk about it anymore. Why are you doing all this for a cat who made you so miserable?”

Talltail gritted his teeth. “I’ve told you, it’s not about me!”

“But it’s your life, your decision, who else is it supposed to be about!? I can’t help but wonder if this thing you’re trying to do is actually going to make you feel better at all. I don’t want to see you get yourself hurt or do something you’ll regret. Do you really think this is going to fix anything that’s wrong?”

“It has to.” Talltail’s voice was hoarse. “There’s nothing else left that can. This mission is all I have left, that’s all there is to it. I’m sorry I’m not who you thought I was. I’m not actually admirable, or heroic, I’m not even a warrior anymore. You don’t have a reason to keep standing by me.”

“I know I don’t understand a lot of things, but I know that’s not true.” Jake’s hostility melted away, replaced by sadness and worry. “I never liked you just because I thought you were some mythical warrior. I liked you because when I was alone and lost, I met a strange cat in the woods who did his best to help me. You helped even though it could have gotten you in trouble, just because I needed it. I met a gentle cat who didn’t want to hurt anyone unless he had no other choice. And I liked you because you listened to me when I talked and thought I wasn’t just a trouble-making flea-brain. I’ve felt more confident in myself when I traveled with you then I ever have! That’s why I stayed by you. And that’s how I feel, so you can’t tell me I’m wrong about it!”

Talltail felt the furious voice at the back of his head rearing up. He didn’t know why he was getting so angry hearing Jake say that. He wanted to scream No! No! You have got it all wrong, I didn’t even think that hard about helping you, it doesn’t say anything about me. How can you not get it!? How can you not see the truth about me!?

“You need to go home,” was the only response he eventually managed to choke out. Talltail didn’t want someone to try to make him feel better, and he didn’t have the energy to argue why Jake should see things the way he did. “You know where the scent trail you need to follow is, just head back through the trees. But this isn’t your journey anymore. It’s mine, and you can’t go with me.”

“What?”

“Go home, Jake. Go find Dusty. That’s more important.”

Jake looked utterly crestfallen. “Don’t make me choose that.”

“I’m not asking you to choose, I’m making the decision for you.” With that, Talltail wheeled and began to sprint.

It was an unfair and abrupt way to leave, but Jake would never be able to catch up. Talltail’s mind was muddled with frustration. He couldn’t be around this questioning. It was wrong of him to let Jake stay so long. It was wrong to let himself get so comfortable. It had only made things harder.

Finally, he skidded to a stop. Talltail was standing alone panting in the quiet woods, glancing behind him, and already feeling guilty. He was supposed to help Jake home, but instead he’d gotten overwhelmed and left him alone. Just another cowardly act on the pile. His heart ached horribly in a way he hadn’t expected. He didn’t want to leave Jake behind like that, especially after they had gotten so close. Of course Jake wasn’t going to react well to all this, that’s why they were supposed to separate at the park. But instead all he’d done was get closer, and it wasn’t fair. Not because Jake didn’t deserve it; if Talltail wasn’t the way he was, he might want to be with Jake forever. But sooner or later, Jake would see what he was really like. Was it better to just pull the thorn out quickly and stay away?

But...surely Jake deserved more than that? A proper apology at least, not him just turning tail and running like a mouse. But how was he supposed to see his friend home now after snapping at him and fleeing like that?

Talltail wasn’t even sure where he was. He knew he was skimming clan territory now, though he wasn’t sure exactly where. ShadowClan scent crisscrossed through the bushes, fresh. His fur began to prickle as mixed among them he couldn’t help noticing another cat scent, distinctly not ShadowClan.

He didn’t have long to think about his next course of action before a faint yowl in the far distance made him freeze. He listened with his ears pricked, wondering if he’d imagined it. An angry snarl echoing through the otherwise silent trees confirmed it was very real. Talltail looked behind him half expecting to hear angry ShadowClan warriors preparing to leap on him, but the sounds weren’t that close. His heart dropped instantly. Had Jake tried to follow him? There was no time to think it through, he just turned and ran faster than he ever had, paws carried by a sharp and awful surge of fear that shot through him and made his heart feel like it was going to claw out of his chest.

When Talltail saw the shape of a cat in a break of the undergrowth, he barely stopped himself, almost tripping over his own gangly legs. Then he felt his breath catch in his throat.

The small dark cat had been watching something intently through the bushes, crouched and nearly hidden from view, but when Talltail stopped, they whipped around to stare at him with two different colored eyes widened with surprise. It took a heartbeat for Talltail to even fully comprehend who was standing in front of him.

It couldn’t be as easy as just stumbling into him, after all his fruitless searching, right? It took only one heartbeat more for a burst of rage to rise up his belly. Sparrow, for his obvious confusion, immediately sensed the sharp hostility radiating off of Talltail like heat from a fire.

But the angry yowl he’d heard earlier passed the bushes ripped his focus away for just a moment. He knew Jake’s voice. That moment was all it took for Sparrow to flee faster than a startled bird. Talltail stared after him, frozen for only a heartbeat. But he couldn't give chase.

He burst into a clearing to see a whole patrol of cats, and an unfortunately familiar dark brown cat with a crook in his tail glaring down at Jake, who was picking himself up with a fresh red line over his eye.

“I don’t have time for you!” Jake snarled. Talltail couldn’t believe his boldness.

“Make time,” Darkpaw hissed. “I told every rogue and kittypet to stay out of these woods!”

“I can’t tell you how much I don’t know or care what you’re talking about. I’m busy!”

Darkpaw went to advance on him again, and Talltail threw himself forward, shoved past another startled apprentice, knocking them to the ground and smacked into Darkpaw, sending the obnoxious brute sprawling nose first into the grass. Jake leaped out of the way and Talltail stood in front of him arching his back at the patrol. Surprisingly, most of the patrol were clearly young. He recognized a new warrior, Clawface, Ashheart’s brother Frogtail, and three apprentices, some of which were too new for him to recognize.

“What sort of patrol are you supposed to be?” Talltail spat, as Darkpaw stumbled back into his rank, only regaining his boldness when he realized Talltail had come alone.

“None of your business, rabbit-chaser,” Darkpaw hissed.

Jake shouldered past Talltail to stand beside him. “We don’t care about you, so leave us alone!”

“You runts aren’t even supposed to be here, are you?” Talltail challenged. “What reason could you possibly have for being so far out? You don’t have any claim on this place, go back to your territory.”

The group advanced closer to them and Talltail had to step back. Apprentices or no, many of them were plenty experienced enough to be dangerous.

Darkpaw spit in his direction. “You’re not really in any position to tell us to do anything. I’ve just been looking around for potential connections. Seeing how useful rogues can be. The town wasn’t as promising as I’d hoped but it was worth a shot,” he shrugged.

Talltail glared at him. “Does your leader know you’re breaking clan law like that?”

Darkpaw rolled his eyes. “All the clans break the law. Yours did too. There’s nothing actually holding any of them to keeping it, other than their word, which no cat has any trouble breaking. We have no choice but to do the same if we don’t want to be overtaken, and everyone will come to realize that in time. The other clans just make us worse, waiting pressed up against our borders to take advantage of us. The strongest warriors have to be wise enough to strike first, by whatever means necessary.”

“Warriors, huh?” Talltail scoffed. He shifted his gaze to Clawface, “and what sort of warrior takes orders from an apprentice?”

Clawface didn’t react. “I listen to sense. Wherever it happens to come from doesn’t bother me.”

Talltail darted his gaze around looking for some way to stall until he could think of a way out. But there was no obvious distraction presented to them like there was in the alley.

A cold cruel glimmer flashed in Darkpaw’s eyes. “You know, sometimes I think age does a cat no good. They overthink. They cling to old useless ways, and hesitate in doing what obviously needs to be done. We, however, have no issues about it.”

Talltail was aware of Jake beside him, bristling but his fear scent was obvious under his aggressive demeanor. He didn’t have any ideas either.

“There’s probably a reason a cat your age doesn't have his warrior name yet. You think this will bring you closer to it?” Talltail shot back.

Darkpaw bared his teeth in a grin “Oh I’ll have it very soon, don’t worry. But it makes no difference to you anyway. We’re done talking now, you're boring me and I don’t need you to go tattling to anyone.”

Talltail glanced at Jake. They had to try to run, they couldn't fight this many cats, and Jake was already bleeding and trying to hide a limp. They could kill him, how am I supposed to protect him?

Clawface lunged and Talltail swatted at him. The scarred warrior ducked his blow but Jake hit him across the muzzle with surprising strength and Clawface winced back.

“You’ll pay for that one kittypet,” he snarled.

There was a growl from behind them, and another large apprentice began to advance. They were being surrounded.

Talltail had just begun to really panic when Jake perked up and turned away from Clawface, looking somewhere off into the trees.

“Are you ignoring m-- what in StarClan is that?” Clawface’s eyes widened as he followed Jake’s gaze.

Talltail caught a stench he never thought he’d be so happy to smell. Heavy, thundering footsteps turned the ShadowClan cat's attention off them. There was a rapidly approaching wild rustling through the woods, the cracking of sticks and undergrowth being trampled, and then, an enormous grizzled furry shape came barrelling out of the bushes, bearing down on the startled patrol with yellowed sharp teeth flashing in the sunlight.

“By the stars, fall back! Retreat!” Darkpaw screeched, bowling over another apprentice as he scrambled to get away.

There was a cacophony of yowls and squeals as the massive dog ran straight at the cats with little heed for anything in his way. He stomped on several of them, massive teeth and tongue lolling in his mouth as he snapped the air over Clawface’s ear. No cat would be foolish enough to think their claws could pierce thick fur like that. The ShadowClan cats were gone in a moment, howling into the trees, leaving their former prisoners to their presumed slobbery fate.

“Dusty!” Jake leapt at his friend and headbutted his leg. Dusty simply wagged his tail and stared after the running cats. He looked as though he would have chased them if he wasn’t busy now drooling on Jake’s head.

“I take back every bad thing I ever said about that dog,” Talltail laughed nervously. Adrenaline was still coursing through him. That was way closer than the alley cats. Dusty turned to him and Talltail tried not to flinch away from his greeting sniff and the feel of spit dripping onto his shoulder. The mouse-brained dog hadn’t even needed to hurt the renegade ShadowClan cats. Talltail felt a bit of pride that he had nothing to fear from what he knew all too well appeared to be a horribly fearsome beast.

“You’re brilliant, Dusty, I knew your nose hadn’t gone that bad,” Jake purred louder than a rumbling monster. “I can’t believe you followed me all the way here, you big fluff-brain. Cris has got to be so worried about you!”

Something caught Talltail’s attention then. Dusty was panting harder than normal, as if the dash into the clearing had taken everything out of him. The old dog's deep brown gaze looked faraway as he licked his lips and sank to the ground. The way he panted and tensed, Talltail could tell something was wrong. He may not know a lot about dogs, but he recognized an animal trying to hide pain when he saw it. There was a peculiar scent on Dusty, one he’d smelled on him before, though it had been faint. But it was a familiar scent, one that made him nervous. A sick scent.

“Jake,” Talltail said “I think something’s wrong with him.”

Jake stopped and looked closer at Dusty who was half way between sitting and laying down, but looking like he didn’t want to do either. “What?” Jake mewed. “What’s wrong? Is it the sickness? It’s not bad again is it?”

Dusty hesitantly whined.

“What sickness?” Talltail asked.

“The...The one I mentioned he had before. Cris took him to the vet and he came back smelling strange, like you did when you went, and his fur was shaved off on his belly. I think there was something inside him that was hurting him but...I thought it was gone.”

Talltail walked closer to the dog, who didn’t acknowledge him much, he was staring blankly ahead, breathing hard. He must hurt badly, Talltail thought, sympathetically. He sniffed at the dog's belly. It was hard to see anything through the fur. He was no medicine cat either, certainly not a dog medicine cat. What did abnormal look like?

“I...Haven’t been paying close attention,” Jake sounded guilty. “Why? Is that bad?”

Talltail thought of Hen then, and realized what felt familiar. The scent, the sluggishness and pain in his step. Dusty has been really tired lately, Jake had told him.

“He shouldn’t have come after us,” Talltail said. “You need to get him home.”

Jake looked distressed “I-I will. Come on Dusty, I know you’re tired but I know the way back. It shouldn’t take long if we go straight there.”

Dusty seemed to know what Jake wanted, and pushed himself to his paws to lumber painfully after, his head low and tail dragging. It really must have been hard to run like he did, Talltail thought. But he knew Jake was in danger. Talltail felt terrible ever doubting the dog. Who was he thinking dogs couldn’t love packmates as much as any cat? Even if he didn’t talk.

“I’m so sorry, Dusty.” Jake mewled, his voice shook and the sound of it made Talltail’s heart ache. “I left without saying anything and worried you, you shouldn’t have had to come after me.”

Talltail watched them go for a moment, and found himself following slowly. He felt like he had stones filling his stomach up with the guilt that weighed him down. It’s not Jake’s fault he’s out here. He only left because I needed him to. They’d both be home where the twoleg could help.

He cast a quick glance over his shoulder to where the patrol had disappeared. To where Sparrow had disappeared. Talltail had suddenly come so close to his target, he almost couldn’t process it.

But he had to follow Jake, no matter how close Sparrow was. He had to see them home. If anyone tried to follow them again, Dusty could only bluff a hostile patrol once.

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#FRU38 #chapter 38

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phthalology · 3 years

Note

Touch prompt list: #20, Ikora/Drifter?

Prompt #20: bandaging/stitching up an injury

It happens to everyone the first time.

Lightbearers aren’t used to such concentrated Darkness. They especially weren’t before the Enemy itself folded humanity’s planets away into seething pockets of gravity and entropy. The first time you play Gambit you get a burn, like a sunburn in reverse, from the proximity of whatever it is in that Bank.

And then it goes away easy, and you become, well, any of the things you can become nowadays: outlaws and Dredgens and sports stars.

It took a long time for Ikora to decide to try Gambit. It wasn’t right, she thought at first. Then: it wouldn’t look good. Then: Darkness is everywhere else, I need to hold this line. Then: Darkness is everywhere else and the Drifter does have a silver tongue and Ophiuchus won’t speak up to stop me and

I miss Crucible.

I’m lonely.

What does it hurt?

So, Ikora plays. Ikora wins. Ikora sits in that musty, cold ready room while black sludge swirls behind glass and the Drifter turns the feeds off and busies himself, disappearing with a data pad into a back hall. Everyone else who played is already gone. He is done for the day, he says, and that match would give them enough to talk about for weeks (although of course it’s back on for tomorrow), he says. He doesn’t gloat, exactly, just lets her know from the grease in his voice and the swagger in his movements that he’d won. Maybe he always moved like that after a game.

Ikora feels good too — proud of the win, and she had missed the simple satisfaction of gaining the top of a leaderboard. Maybe the high of that too is why she keeps looking as the Drifter walks away, thinking about his hands.

The darkburn prickles. Ikora still sits on the stairs, the ache running up and down her leg. It’s concentrated midway between her right knee and ankle.

She works her right boot off. Once she rolls her pant leg up the wound reveals itself: a black-edged burn, wide and shallow.

The Drifter clatters up the gangway and stops at the bottom of the stairs. He traded the data pad for a wet washcloth and a dry roll of bandage.

He holds the cloth out. His expression is unusually serious after the crowing during the game, or the slimy persuasion he had turned on her the last time he had tried to convince her to play Gambit. “This’ll take the sting out of it. Cancels itself out.”

“I expect you want me to ask what’s in it.”

He laughs. “Not if you’re as smart as they say.”

She doesn’t take it, not because she doesn’t want it but because the idea of applying it herself feels exhausting. “Maybe a Ghost could fix this right away. But Ophiuchus and I don’t talk.”

She knows exactly why she’s revealing things to him. She doesn’t talk to Zavala much any more. The Vanguard have been keeping secrets from each other, so it hasn’t felt right. The Drifter is known to be untrustworthy. There’s no alliance there to break. That’s comforting.

He crouches below her on the stairs so he’s eye level with her, one hand on the railing, the unguent dripping from the other. It makes black dots on the metal step. His expression looks like he’s swallowed something foul. His breath smells meaty and sour. “I know what that’s like, sister. But sometimes it’s right to heal on your own. Take pride in it. Letting them bring you back is so easy.”

Tower rumor says he’s been a predator, a cannibal. Everybody has rumors. Many of the more frightening ones about Ikora’s abilities to see truths, to read minds, are true.

In the Drifter she reads lies upon honesty upon lies upon … down and down and down into a past with a Ghost like hers.

“I’m tired of pride,” says Ikora. “Where has it gotten us lately? I just want to … “ Her eyes almost shut. It’s quieter here than in the Tower, only the one locked-down mutter of the Drifter’s thoughts and the crashing-wave presence of the thing behind the glass. “Rest.”

The Drifter hefts the cloth next to her leg and meets her eyes for permission. “You want me to do this myself, you just say so and lay back there.”

She does. She leans back on the steps and tells him, mind-to-mind, what she wants.

It’s a flex, and the fact that she scares him makes her lips quirk. Still in charge. The Drifter leans back and whistles low, and then there’s some real anger in his expression and his dim voice in the Light.

“We coulda been something great together back when,” he says. “Get the Guardians to work together instead of fighting, forget the trinkets and the choices and just work on stuff. Your buddy Eris was down for it. Why not you? And there’s no good makin’ rules in wars. But I gotta ask. Don’t do that mind-reading stuff on me. I’m feeling watched down here every minute by every weird bit of space dust anyway. That work for ya, Vanguard?”

“Fine.” She hadn’t planned on doing it again anyway. “I didn’t need it to win that game, and I don’t need it to talk to you.”

The Drifter laughs and kneels on the bottom step to slap the wet cloth against her leg. That stings too, but soon enough the unguent works. The pain fades, left behind with the wide circles he makes on her skin. Ikora shuts her eyes again, thinking of what else she told him mind-to-mind — of the way she watched him, of her loneliness, of the barriers she will not bring down and the promises she will not break.

The salve eases the pain and the red and black burn, leaving her skin looking untouched. After he’s done, but before he picks up the bandage, the Drifter cups the back of her leg in a gloved hand. Ikora enjoys the solidity of the touch lingering there.

He’s close enough to her that if she sat up and bent forward she would be able to put her face against his hair. Besides his breath he smells clean, keeps his hair neat. Looking down as he is to start wrapping her leg, she can’t see the greasy sheen on his face or his cannibal lips. He wraps the bandage, cuts it with a knife from nowhere, secures it tight. Inside his head float greed and opportunistic jumpiness and fear and an endless hunger, but no desire to hurt her.

As he sits up from the finished bandage he gives her leg another light slap on the side like she would pat a repaired Sparrow. “Good as new.” The words are soft. The tone would be a surprise except for what she put in his mind before.

I just want a little bit of time. No strings. Just someone to touch. Gloat about it as much as you want. You look good when you gloat. Just expect nothing back.

So, she leans forward and presses a kiss into his hair on the top of his head. His hair smells clean, just a hint of something sour on his skin. She lingers, shutting her eyes, breathing in the smell of another person, enjoying herself.

Then she sits up, the pain in her leg gone, energy enough for another game singing in her loud heartbeat. The Drifter looks up at her with a smug, crumpled grin.

Ikora murmurs with a laugh in her voice. “No one will ever believe you.”

In response he cups her leg again. Before, he could have been operating with the clinical competency of a battlefield medic. Now he hungrily caresses the hard muscle, tracing sharply defined dips and curves with fingers still gloved. He leans in to kiss her knee, and Light she likes the way he looks there. The Drifter kisses from her knee down to where the burn had been. The Drifter kisses from her knee down to the bandage. He is undone or pretending his best, his face out of view but his mouth warm and wet against her skin. She watches his heavy breaths move him. Clarity fills her, every touch messy and precise at the same time. At the bandage he stops, his breath on her skin, as if considering what to do next.

“That’s enough,” she says, and reaches for him. Her gloves are thin enough she can tell the texture of his beard but not tell whether his skin is slick. She lifts him by the chin until he’s standing up off the stairs, looking at her with a slack satisfaction that she can feel mirrored in the pit of her stomach. As she stands she pushes him farther away, giving her space to move to the top of the stairs and roll her pant leg down.

He’s watching her for a long silence. “You oughta play the game more often,” he finally says as she buckles her boot. When she looks up he’s licking his lips, then looks around the ceiling as if for their Ghosts.

What a thing to have in common. Not speaking to our other halves.

“You’ve taken enough of my Guardians. I won’t encourage any more,” Ikora says. “But there is one secret I’d like my Guardians to pas among themselves. When the Darkness is everywhere, we need it.”

“What’s that?” The Drifter’s expression is closed and suspicious now, a card player’s screen.

“We all need some rest and some comfort sometimes," she says.

When Ikora transmats out it is with a smirk of satisfaction and a lightness in her limbs she has not felt since Crow arrived. Maybe she’ll visit the Derelict again, and maybe not. A cure with a kiss was just what she needed for now.

#writings #destiny 2 #ikora/drifter #ikora rey #destiny drifter #long post

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cherryblossomtease · 3 years

Text

In The Fairest Season ~ Part 4

18+ only

warnings summary masterlist

Chapter Warnings - mild graphic violence

~LATE AUGUST~

Bird song usually soothes you in the mornings.

Your bed is near the window and when the nurse leaves it open you can feel the cool breeze and hear the sparrows, but this morning you’re in pain and you wish you could quiet the little beasts.

You had a nightmare, that must be what it is. Your dreams have always been vivid, ever since you were a child. So much so that they set the tone for your day.

This one is a replaying of the night you almost died. You’ve had it before, for better or worse it is typically the same, but this time, he was there just watching as the butcher hacked away.

You woke with your pulse racing, scared for a while until the sparrows calmed you, and then the pain kicked in and now you are just angry.

It isn’t true. You know he’s the one paying for your care or else you would have been sent home weeks ago.

Instead you have a private nurse and this beautiful room on this quiet floor far from the chaos below with a doctor who speaks kindly when he comes to do his rounds.

He checks your wound which is a specific form of torment you would not wish on your enemy. It is too hard for you to speak when he asks how you feel, but you write with chalk on the little slate they’ve given you and when he is done prodding, they give you fresh bandages and let you sleep.

Eating slowly becomes easier too— when you have an appetite.

Turning your head from the bright light of day, you look at the vase on the table beside your bed and stare at the single dead rose.

It was the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes after your surgery. Someone had placed it on your bed while you slept after they stitched you back together and you’ve kept it, refusing to let them throw it away.

Once, you overheard the doctor say that the assailant was in a hurry. The theatre was a risky place to commit such a crime and get away with it. His careleness and your bouquet which took the impact of his assault kept you alive, but it would take time and rest before you could speak.

You still do not have the heart to ask him about singing.

Baron Zemo likes the hunt.

It’s been a while since he has, but not long enough that he’s forgotten how it’s done, or how much he enjoys it.

Patience and observation are his weapons and he’d spent the past few days using both.

The Baron had stripped away his fine clothes, concealing his wealth with worn shoes, a tattered coat and the hat of a man no one would notice. He left the pretty summer mansions behind, forgetting the charm of street lamps and manicured topiaries that decorate the parks, choosing instead to disappear into the bleak slums, quietly following the man whose name he’d gotten through his first round of cat and mouse which had ended very badly for the mouse.

Down he went over shit covered roads, dodging the beggars and dirty children, slipping in and out of the shadows like a predator that crouches in the tall grass before leaping to bite the neck of its victim.

He had stalked around this way for two nights. Thankfully this man -Karpov- is simple.

It will be over and done before midnight.

Pressing his back to the damp wall, the Baron keeps out of sight as Karpov stops at the entrance of an abandoned warehouse just off the water. He speaks with the old man sitting on a barrel and lights what’s left of a cigarette while they chat, the sound of gulls and gentle waves deceptively tranquil.

Zemo watches him, staring at his plain face. He will never forget it, or the way he feels knowing that you have seen him too, and why.

Their voices fade though his eyes stay trained on his target, just a sliver of his face showing around the corner in the dark, the memory of you onstage coming to him quickly.

He can see you so clearly, with your voice so bright and strong. It fills the music hall with the most beautiful sorrow he has ever heard, just when he needed it most…

Karpov may not have killed you —little bird— you are still alive, you are strong and healing even now. But he tried, and that is enough.

There is a righteous anger burning in the Baron’s heart that drives him—pushing him forward much as it did when he lost his wife and son. He won a war fueled by that rage and it is this same hurt that clears his head and keeps him steady. He is at his best when he is hunting those who deserve to die. This man, he thinks watching Karpov take a long drag, is most deserving.

So Zemo waits.

When Karpov finally goes in and the old man slumps down in a drunken sleep, Zemo slips on the mask he has not worn since the fighting at the borderlands and goes inside, making his way through the dark, his eyes quickly growing accustom to it.

He sticks to the shadows moving in through the fallen beams until he notices the silence. Karpov knows he's here. That’s all right.

“No use for that, I know who you are.” Comes Karpov’s voice in the distance.

The Baron smiles beneath his cover. “Then you also know why I’ve come.”

“I guess you’re mad about your little ingenue” He says the word making it sound crude.

“That is an act, only the role played on stage. She —is anything but.”

“All the same, you’ve got a score to settle with me….same as you did the ones that ripped your country apart. Come on then. Stop hiding.” Karpov says and the Baron hears how his voice wavers with fear.

He must truly knows who has come for him.

“What stories have you heard?” Zemo asks, curious as he walks past the wreckage. “What tales of war have made it all the way to your filthy ears?” He smirks. When he steps into the dim light of a barrel fire, the doomed man backs away.

Through the flames, Karpov catches his first glimpse of the Baron. He sees the long black coat with the white fur collar, similar to what the men wore to stay warm through the long winters of a northern war and the thick gloves to make gripping swords much easier. And finally, the mask that had become the stuff of legend between the fighters. Karpov may not have been there to see first hand, but he'd heard enough on the docks from the ones who traveled through, those few who survived...

Zemo's men rallied behind the mask and his enemies feared it. The entire time, none knew who the man that wore it was, the Baron had managed to keep this identity secret. They only knew that he was fearless and seemed to enjoy the killing when it kept others alive. Now Karpov knew— he did not expect to live long enough to tell the secret.

“You’re Baron Zemo.” He says awed. “The masked swordsman of Sokovia.” He grins with the discovery. “You’re the one who waits, and hunts.” His gold teeth gleam in the firelight. "And falls in love with little stage girls who forget their place." He says with a laugh, but that laugh is not genuine. He is trying very hard to stave off the inevitable.

Zemo squares his shoulders and fixes his eyes on his victim. It’s been a very long time since anyone has looked at him this way, but it is instantly familiar. All cowards make the same face right before they die. Still he is surprised and tilts his head, perhaps a little flattered that his war reputation has reached so far. He gives a single nod. “Yes… the patient man. With experience.” He adds and looks Karpov in the eye, his grin hidden beneath the mask. Why is he still standing here?

“Run.”

The man growls an angry response, he does not usually back down from a fight, but when the Baron steps around the fire, and draws his sword, Karpov forgets his own reputation in the slums and turns, fleeing up a set of crooked stairs, jumping over the places he knows won’t support him as he makes his was along the balcony of the next floor. The Baron stays put to watch; his brain doing the calculations to follow without stepping on a rotted or missing plank.

When the time is right he follows.

“I can smell you from here.” Zemo says into the dark as he climbs, his voice finding Karpov before he does. They say predators can smell fear, perhaps the war has changed him more than he realized. And to think he used to be a peaceful man.“People seem to find joy in taking things from me.” Zemo says stepping onto the second floor. He pauses to listen so happy that the hunt is not over. This may be Karpov’s territory but what is a broken building to a man who has seen the end of the world. “Such careless, stupid ignorance.” Zemo scolds softly. “Better men than you have tried my friend. And I’m sure you know that happened to them. You see it is not what I did during the war that should frighten you. It’s what I did to the ones who caused the deaths of my family after the fact.” Karpov is breathing is too loud. He does know.

Zemo hears and pauses, going left to find him instead of right.

Karpov feels panic, he’s set something off inside of Zemo, something that had been quiet for so long. He should never have done it, but how could he have known that the Baron the little bitch snuck off with was this one!

And then a breeze, like the breath of an angel catches his hair, reminding him of another way out.

Not waiting to test fate, the man scuttles across the floor boards down a short hallway with the broken wall that leads to the water below. He stands gazing down not wanting to jump, but not wanting to die in a fight either.

It isn’t so very far, he thinks watching the gentle waves break on the planks of the warehouse. But those rocks… he is certain he will not be able to miss them. He will have to take a running leap. Gathering his courage he takes a step back.

“Tell me, how long do you think it took your friend to give you up?” Zemo asks, his voice as light as a feather in Karpov’s ear. “Just the threat of my blade and he told me your name. I still killed him of course."

Karpov shuts his eyes, angry that he’s missed his chance. The bastard Baron moves as quiet as a snake in the grass. “You killed Charlie?”

“Yes.” He says and begins to raise his sword.

Furious at being caught, Karpov gives a shout and swings back with an elbow, but Zemo ducks missing the swing, rising with a single attack. His trusted sword delivering silent death. He takes a step or two back and waits. He did not miss.

Karpov stands, his face contorting, he reaches as if the Baron might help. He is confused and then he realizes.

The blood looks black against his dirty shirt blooming like a rotted flower as it seeps from the wound to his heart. The color drains from Karpov's face.

Zemo looks him over and it comes on quickly. Rage and fear are such a powerful combination. As the dying man sputters, the Baron kicks his stomach hard enough to send Karpov through the broken wall.

Pulling the mask from his face, Zemo quickly goes to the edge of the building, leaning over in time to see the way Karpov’s body breaks on the black rocks, ruined and hardly recognizable as a man.

He stares down at the gore for far too long, his only thought being that Karpov’s accomplice Charlie had been shown a mercy when his throat was sliced. Though it was a just end for a man so fond of showing the same -kindness- to innocent women.

Turing away, Zemo sheaths his sword and slips his mask into his coat, sad to put it away, and starts back through the warehouse. Unsure that he’s done what you would want, he questions his actions, but he is certain that his own brand of justice has been served.

The men who would cause you harm are dead. And that is all that matters.

“Throw it out,” You say. It is the first time you’ve tried using your voice. The nurse is shocked that you’ve finally given in but she seems so pleased that you try; you are only angry with what you hear.

It sounds like a crow scratching at a window.

You hate the sound.

It’s never even occurred to you to love or hate your speaking voice, it’s just been there and pleasant enough, sort of soft and unassuming, so different from when you sing.

Everything has changed so quickly.

“Are you sure miss? You’ve kept it all this time.” She says, her kindness punctuated by her hand resting light on your shoulder.

You look up at the ceiling from your pillow in bed refusing to look at that silly rose anymore. It is a symbol of something that has been proven to be untrue.

One week spent with your fate unknown. Three weeks you’ve lain here recovering. In all that time he has not written or come to see you.

It is unexpected, you’re not sure what to make of it, but you assume the worst and try to adjust to living with a broken heart beneath a lost voice.

“I’m sure.”

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#baron zemo x you #zemo x y/n #zemo fanfic #zemo x reader #baron zemo fanfiction #baron helmut zemo #the baron always gets his revenge #with a sword #Youtube

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mirkwoodshewolf · 4 years

Text

The truth and a warning; AU Ghost! Queen x teen reader

*Author’s note*

Well this was a LONG one in the making but I finally sat down and made a sequel part to my Legend of the Band fic. Now I’ve got ONE LAST PART and it’ll be published up in just a few minutes so I hope you all enjoy this little fic and for new readers coming in, READ PART ONE FIRST BEFORE YOU READ THIS!!!

Warnings: Parent arguments, fluff, angst, demons mentions, supernatural elements, kidnapping, paranormal stuff.

Taglist:

@geek-and-proud

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@simonedk

@queendeakyy

@queensdivas

@eileen-crys

@platawnic

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@kairosfreddie

_____________________________________________________________

I was running through this dark hallway. I didn’t know why I was running, all I knew was that I had to keep going. Soon enough I came to this fire-lit room. It looked like something out of a cult film with candles, Satanic markings all over the wall, and a large fireplace that was just roaring with fire. At the center was a large pentagram of some kind with candles at each of the stark points.

“Don’t go to them. You’re putting yourself in danger. Your whole family will be in danger if you don’t stay away.” There he was again. I looked up and soon appearing right at the center of the pentagram was a man with shaggy blonde hair, a scruffy appearance with a five o’clock shadow, wearing a trench coat, a white button up shirt with a long red tie, and black dress pants.

“Who are you?” I asked. He just looked at me with that same sharp expression. He opened his mouth but another voice spoke out of his mouth.

“Wake up!”

I woke up with a gasp and glared up to see Roger hovering right in front of me.

“Roger what the fuck? You trying to give me a heart attack or something?” I hissed at him.

“Well if you had woken up the first time, I wouldn’t have needed to do that, would I? Now c’mon. I want you to see the sunrise with me.” I got off his bed and stretched myself.

It’s been almost 3 months since my friends and I came up here to Rockfield studios. Since then I had been coming up here in secret without telling my nana or my dad. Most of the times I would come up would be when Freddie and the boys would want me to hear new songs they got (Freddie said that since I came to the farm, it’s like the creativity they once had when they were alive suddenly came back).

But throughout all the visits I have done with the guys, I—still hadn’t worked up the courage to tell John the truth about……who I really am. I mean how would you be if you were in my shoes? And how would you tell the spirit of your dead grandfather that you’re his grandchild without freaking him out. Or causing some sort of ghostly pandemic where he’d like explode all of London or something.

Roger hovering right outside his room waiting for me, I stood up and put my hoodie and sneakers on and followed him. My thoughts also went back to the dream I had last night. It was also been practically 3 months since I’ve had that same dream over and over again.

At first it happened the night I came back home. But one month later it came back to me. Then it was once a week, then once every other day, and now since a month ago, it’s been every night. I don’t know why this guy keeps coming into my dreams or why he says the same thing over and over again.

Roger and I finally reached outside. The snow crunching underneath my feet with each step I took.

“You know you’ve really been out of it lately. You sure you’re not sick or something?” I looked up at him and said.

“Nah. I was just dreaming.”

“Naww about me? Lovie I’m flattered.” He teased flirtatiously as he tossed his long, flowing hair aside. “Alright c’mon. Fred’s just about to wake up, we gotta get up to the top of the barn before he does.” He flew towards the inside of the barn and I ran after him.

He now floated on top of the second level of the barn where mostly some more hay and old bags of manure stood at. It was then I finally told me.

“Eww no way Rog. Besides you’re like in your 70’s now. It’s just weird.”

“Technically I would be, but I’m still physically, in a sense, 26.” As I came up to the ladder that led up to the second level I continued while stepping up the ladder.

“Whatever. But no, my dreams are that every time I’m running through this dark corridor. Then next thing I know I’m in like—a cult room. Candles surrounding everywhere, a roaring fireplace, like even more so than when you guys make the fire roar and there’s all these pentagrams and Satanic markings. But what’s weird is that there’s always this—man standing right at the center of this large pentagram.”

I finally reached the top and Roger couldn’t help but tease at me again.

“Wow. Never knew you were into that kinda stuff (n/n).” I glared at him.

“Does your mind ever leave the gutter? Besides the guy’s like in his mid-40’s or something.” I finally got over and now stood alongside Roger. He then raised his hand up and I soon began levitating in the air and soon the two of us phased through the ceiling until we ended up on the roof of the barn.

“Well it’s about time you slowpokes got here.” Freddie’s voice soon spoke up.

“Wha-but-you-but-you were-I thought-that-you…..” Roger began stammering. “You dirty rotter! I was supposed to finally be the first one up to see the sunrise!”

“Oh don’t get your celestial knickers in a twist Roger. Remember I once told you there was only room in the band for one hysterical Queen, well there’s only room for one hysterical ghost on this property. And that’s me.”

“God if I could wring your neck in I would.”

“Oh (Y/n) dear! So glad you could make it! How did you sleep?” he hovered over to me, circling around me before stopping right in my face. He observed me closely before noticing the bags under my eyes at this point. “Wow, dear no offense but you look absolutely knackered.”

“Yeah I uhh—was having that dream again.”

“You mean the one about that fellow in the trench coat?” One time Freddie actually came into my dreams and I was forced to tell him just what was going on.

I nodded.

“Wait you know about these dreams Fred?” Roger asked.

“Yes. But it’s between (Y/n) and I. So unless you want to know more you won’t hear about it from—”

“I’ve told him about it.” I interrupted him.

“Wait so this chap in the trench coat. He—doesn’t hurt you does he?” Rog asked worriedly.

“No, no not at all. But he—he always gives me some kind of warning. Saying things like I’m in danger, or stay away from them. But this time he told me that my family could now be in danger if I refuse to stay away.” I sat down on the roof bringing my knees up to my chest as I exhaled outward, my breath now visible thanks to the cold. “I’m really starting to get scared about—what it all means?”

“Well it could just be a fluck or something? Sometimes dreams don’t mean anything.” Roger said as he sat to my left while Fred sat at my right.

“I’ve been having this dream since meeting you guys it—has to mean something. Doesn’t it?” There was silence between us till Fred spoke up.

“Dreams are a silly thing. They can be there one moment and gone the next. I think I once recalled about my overbite being a lot bigger. And all that meant was that I was truly what my friends once nicknamed me, Bucky.” It was then he actually made his overbite extend further out (think of a cartoon character at this point) as he then growled and grumbled as he began to chomp like a beaver.

After that, his overbite went back to normal as we all laughed softly. I shook my head and rolled my eyes.

“Why do I keep coming to your guys?”

“It’s because you like us.” Teased Freddie as he pointed his finger at my nose.

“I don’t. I love you guys.” His smile turned soft and that’s when Roger said.

“Look, here it comes.” We both turned around and low and behold the sun was slowly starting to rise. The first light came into the sky, and the sparrows began to stir and the stars began to fade. Wow, theirs is nothing that beats a countryside sunrise and sunset.

“So—apart from the dreams, how have you been (Y/n)?” Freddie asked me. I grew solemn and I said.

“Nana’s—been feeling under the weather lately. Both physically and mentally.” Right at around New Year’s, we had a scare when we got a call from the hospital saying that Nana had taken a bad fall.

Fearing for her safety, dad had her move into the home with us and since I’m still on holiday break, I’ve been keeping an eye on her.

“My friends still won’t talk to me since that night on Halloween.” Its true. In fact they’ve avoided me at all cost. I’ve heard them say that I’ve been possessed by the ghosts themselves every time they see me. So basically I’ve been kicked out of the group. “And then my dad still won’t give me the time of day anymore.” I grumbled hatefully.

“Still? But didn’t you go on that lovely little Christmas trip with him and your nana?” Freddie asked.

“Yeah for like an hour till the office called him telling him the pitch meeting couldn’t wait.”

“Typical fathers. Always thinking that work is more important than family.” Roger hmphed. I scoffed softly. Tell me about it.

“So this is where you took her.” It was then floating right above us was grandda—I mean John. Granddad? Can I even call him that even in my head? It’s still wild to even think about.

“Good morning Deacy darling!” Freddie praised. John—grandad crossed his arms over his chest as he gave Freddie and Rog the stink eye that my nana always gave me when I misbehaved (now I know where she got it from).

“C’mon John it’s the mid-winter sunrise and I thought (Y/n) might like to see it.” Roger said.

“You do realize she could freeze up here. She’s not like us Rog, she’s human!”

“I’m fine De—AHH-CHOO!” I sneezed out.

“See? She’s already catching her death already. Couldn’t you two have allowed her to see the sunrise from inside the home, or at least not up on top of the barn where it’s the most coldest?” he said as he came up to me and touched my shoulders.

I’ve also noticed that it’s really only been my granddad’s touch that I can actually feel. When it comes to the other guys, they go right through me.

“C’mon (Y/n), let’s get you back inside and I’ll fix you up a warm cuppa.” He took my hand and we both phased back through the barn. He then wrapped an arm around me and together we flew back towards the house.

Back in the living quarter’s I was sitting on the couch with two sets of blankets wrapped around me, the fireplace going off, and soon John had my cuppa float right towards me.

“Thanks John.”

“Are you sure you’re warm enough? As soon as we came in you were shivering like a leaf.” God that’s such an old saying. But I guess that is something that only my grandfather would say.

“I’m fine, really. Thanks John.”

“You really should’ve bundled up more before you went outside with Roger. The countryside gets colder than it does in the city. Especially since this place isn’t as updated as it would be today when it comes to heating.”

“I know. I thought I’d be fine with just my jumper but I guess I misjudged it.”

“More like underestimated it.” He teased. I took a sip of my cuppa and hummed softly. “Is it done right?”

“Just how I like it.”

“That’s good. I was thankful to actually get that old coffee machine working again. That thing hadn’t been used in decades.”

“Now was that story Brian once told me about Roger wanting to smash that thing true?”

“Oh god don’t even get me started on that. I can’t believe he actually remembers that.” He groaned which made me laugh.

“That’s only because you guys refused to think my song was good enough for the album!” Roger’s voice exclaimed. Soon both he, Freddie and even Brian came through the walls and Brian said.

“Please tell me he’s not going off about it again. I swear Roger if I have to hear about your song one more time I’m gonna find a way to exorcise you.” Granddad and I looked at each other as he and Rog proceeded to argue and the two of us rolled our eyes.

“Be a dear for me (Y/n). If you ever find my body, please get some scissors and stab me in the ears.” Granddad whispered to me. I reached out and gently patted his shoulder.

Man he wasn’t kidding about the fact when their fights get crazy. I could only imagine how they were when they were alive and could actually hurt each other. But it still amazes me that even through their arguments and fights, they still come together and make such beautiful music.

I felt granddad touch my shoulder and the next thing I knew, we silently phased through the couch, down the floor until we arrived in his room. He released my hand which made me go back to being solid again and he said as he hovered over to his bed.

“Figured you’d be safe here. I’d say in the next—ten seconds Roger’s going to go all poltergeist and start throwing things about.” And low and behold, I heard a very loud crashing and the sounds of Brian, Fred’s and Roger’s screaming at each other. I cringed at the loudness of the banging and their yelling. It was like hearing three banshees screaming in my ear.

Then with a snap of a finger, all went quiet. I turned to granddad and saw that his left hand was slightly raised and his fingers were in a snap position.

“Took me over 20 years to figure it out but, now this room shall remain soundproof till they cease their petty arguments.” I smiled and said.

“God I wish I could do that.” He chuckled softly as he sat down on his bed.

“It’s definitely a gift worth having.” I then noticed how his face grew solemn. “Plus I—I need the silence.”

“Why’s that?” I asked with a tilt of my head.

“It’s nothing you need to worry yourself over (Y/n) dear. I wouldn’t want to bore you with the story.”

“No please. If you’re—willing to share with me, I’ll lend an ear. Believe me you’ve listened to plenty of my teenage drama.” His famed gapped-tooth smile came on display as he softly chuckled again.

“It’s not drama, it’s life. Everyone goes through it, even I did when I was your age. God I really do sound like an old man don’t I?”

“And yet you’re hardly pass the age of 24.” I said as I sat down beside him. “Come on tell me. Please.” I placed my hand over his and gave him my best puppy dog face. He looked down at me before smiling softly and said.

“Alright you little puppy.” He patted my head before raising his hand and an old suitcase soon floated towards us. It opened up and soon a photograph soon came out of it. He sent the suitcase back to the corner and held the picture in his hands.

It was a picture of my nana. She was outside underneath a cherry blossom tree in what looked like a park. She was beautiful with her long flowing brown hair, her belly showing signs of her pregnant with my father (probably around 3-4 months). She wore a pretty purple dress and in her hair were 2 flowers.

“Today’s……well…..today would’ve been our 45th wedding Anniversary.” He said solemnly. Oh shit that’s right. Nana’s been dreading this day in secret. She hides it from my dad awfully well but I’ve heard her cry at night, crying out granddad’s name in her sleep whenever it was just the two of us at the house. “I think that……that’s probably why I’ve still remained here on Earth, and never got the chance to move on.”

“How do you mean?” He continued to look down at the picture of nana. His long, ghostly black fingers stroking along the picture, especially once the tips of his fingers touched her face which held a beautiful smile.

“Unlike the lads whose memories have been slowly fading away of their previous life when we were human. I—I always found myself thinking of my love, my wife, my best friend. And every now and then……memories would come back to me.”

“What kind of memories?” I asked as I held onto the sleeve of his shirt. I looked up at him like a solemn child wanting to hear the story of their dead relative.

“Just—the small things. The sounds of her attempting to make breakfast. Poor Ronnie could never really cook well without at least trying to burn the flat down.” He chuckled the last part out which made me softly laugh. “The way she would put on her lipstick. So carefully.”

He looked up and he had this look of—wonderment. Wistfulness. His voice even whispered wistfully as he reminisced about him and nana. A smile soon spread across his face as he continued to speak with admiration and love.

“I do remember that she always used lavender lotion. And when we’d embrace, I would pull her in. And breathe her in. So deeply. Then at night before we would go to sleep, she’d cuddle close to me and we’d whisper to one another with her first starting off, ‘I will love you forever; whatever happens. Until I die and after I die,’ then I would finish whispering in hers, ‘and when I find my way out of the land of the dead, I’ll drift about forever, all my atoms, until I find you again’. Guess that saying became our reality.”

That’s what Nana always said to me when I was a little girl during the thunderstorms to calm me down. She would always say that very line and then she taught me the second part. Never did I imagine that I was saying granddad’s line back to her.

He stood up from the bed, his back facing me as he stood before the wall.

“But that was a long, long time ago. She’s—probably forgotten all about me. Moved on, probably had more kids with another man. Probably for the best.” God my heart was literally breaking at hearing this.

“I don’t think she did. I believe she couldn’t forget about you. I’m…..sure she felt the same way about you. And……couldn’t find it in herself to love another man as much as she loved you.” I said to him solemnly.

“Then I’ve caused her nothing but heartbreak and pain. She deserved to move on from me after my death. If she—if she has cling to the past, then……” he trailed off and I saw ghostly tears fall down his face.

I got up from the bed and slowly approached him. I stood at his side for a moment before reaching out and taking his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. He turned to me, his heartbroken face made me want to cry and just hug him.

Why did this have to happen to my family? To Queen’s family? Whoever or whatever happened on that fateful day deserves to burn in Hell because they took everything from these boys, from my nana, my father and me.

I embraced him and held onto him as tight as I could. I felt granddad crumble in my arms as he wept into my shoulder. My sleep shirt getting drenched with his tears, but it was worth it.

After standing there holding each other for a while, I wiped away his ghostly tears which floated into the air as soon as I wiped them off his face.

“Deacy, look there’s……there’s something I gotta tell you.” he separated from me. His eyes went from heartbroken to concern in the snap of a finger.

“What is it are you okay?” God ever concerning for his loved ones safety. Even when he not even five seconds ago had a mental breakdown. He was willing to put his own feelings aside to ask if I was alright.

“I’m fine. I…….” this was it. I have to tell him. I don’t know what the repercussions would be like, hell I may cause him to bring this entire farm to the ground, but I have to get this off my chest. “Deacy I’m……”

“Oi (Y/n)! Your cellphone’s been blaring off frantically and none of us know how to answer it.” Roger’s voice spoke up. We looked up and there he had his head peaking through the roof of granddad’s room.

“You couldn’t have learned to knock first!?” Granddad snapped.

“Please I know about your sound proof ability in this room. Even if I tried you’d still never hear me. Now please (Y/n) go see who it was. If I have to hear that bell alarm one more time I’ll bring this whole farm to the ground.”

“Okay Rog I’ll be up there in a sec.” his head soon vanished back through the roof and I looked up to granddad and he said.

“Go on.” I walked up the stairs and headed towards Roger’s room where I grabbed my phone and saw that I had 2 missed calls from Nana, 12 unread texts from dad’s cell and 13 missed calls from dad’s cell.

“Shit.” I unlocked my phone and went to dad’s cell first just to let him have it with me. After just one ring his frantic voice exclaimed out.

‘WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN!?! DO YOU KNOW HOW WORRIED SICK I WAS!!’

“Dad I’m sorry. I meant to tell you I was going out of town but I forgot.”

‘Out of town? Out of town!? (Y/n) (m/n) Deacon you’ve been going out of town for the past 3 months and you’ve never once told me or your nana where exactly ‘out of town’ is. This is starting to become a problem.’

“But dad…..”

‘No buts! From now on I want to know where you are at all times, and all destinations are to be approved by me!’

“What?! That’s not fair!!”

‘Unfair?! You wanna know what unfair is!? Having your nana crying all day because of…….’ He trailed off. ‘Anyways she needed you. What would’ve happened to her if you weren’t there because you were ‘out of town’. Now I’ve got to get back to work but when I get home, I expect you there and then we’ll further discuss your punishment.’ And with that he hung up. I growled and tossed my phone onto the bed before plopping down against it.

“Was it him again?” I looked up and there was granddad right at the door.

“You heard that?”

“Darling I think everyone from Pembroke heard.” He joked. I collapsed on the bed with a heavy sigh and said.

“I don’t get why he’s so overprotective.”

“He’s your father. And he loves you.” he said as he came up to me. I turned on my side and huffed.

“I doubt that.”

“Why would you say something like that?” he asked me. I sighed heavily and said.

“Ever since mum left us when I was 12 for her new boy toy, dad’s thrown himself into his work. He’s never actually confronted the problem. He just buries himself into his work. There have been times where I needed him and he was never there. It was like I was invisible to him. And now all of a sudden he’s starting to care about me after practically ignoring me for most of my teen years! If I’m being honest…..I think he stopped caring about me a long time ago.” my voice cracked at the last statement.

I harshly wiped my tears away refusing to cry in front of him. That’s when I felt his fingers gently grasp my chin and he turned my head to face him.

“Now you don’t mean that.”

“I do. I hate myself for thinking such a thing but it’s true.”

“A father never stops caring for their child. Sure he may pile on the work or can be strict but that’s because he can’t risk to lose you like he lost your mother. Being a parent—it’s the most frightening job in the world that not a lot of people can handle. But I would gladly like to have that chance of having that job. To have been there for my son if I had the chance. To love him, to care for him, to show him that dad’s aren’t just the type of walk away to the store or leave to record an album and never come back.”

He wiped my tears as he cupped underneath my jawline and we both looked into each other’s eyes.

“So never doubt your father doesn’t love you. Okay?” I nodded and said.

“I should get home then.” He smiled softly and nodded in agreement.

“Promise you’ll reach out to either Freddie or Brian when you reach home.”

“I promise. Tell the guys I said bye.”

“Will do poppet. Until next time.” He gave me a kiss to my forehead and I walked out of the house towards my car and drove all the way back to London.

On the drive back just a few miles out of Bristol, I stopped at a gas station to get me some breakfast. When I picked me up some sweets I walked back to my car and started it up before finally pulling out of the gas station and continued down the road.

While driving on a stretch of wide open roads with fields and nothing but cattle, suddenly out of nowhere I saw a man frantically waving his arms back and forth.

He looked like he had just came out of a pub fight, his clothes almost torn to shreds, his face all bloodied up, and he was even limping and might’ve had a broken shoulder with the way his left arm was dangling.

Something in my didn’t sit right and as much as I would’ve said I kept driving, I’d be lying. I slowed down and rolled my window down and he came up to me and said.

“Oh bless you lass. I’ve been walking for miles with no one in sight.” American accent must be a tourist or something.

“Are you alright sir?” I asked him.

“I’ve had better days. Listen my car broke down several miles West. I’ve been traveling all night and couldn’t see a damn thing. Can you please give me a lift to the closest repair shop?”

“Uhh……”

“Please I know I’m asking a lot and this must seem like a creepy situation.” I’ve had creepier experiences, I mean I’m friends with the ghost’s of Queen. “I promise, all I need is a ride and I promise you’ll never see me again. I need to check in on my wife and daughter. They’re probably worried sick back at our cabin.”

“Alright. Get in.”

“Oh thank you so much. Thank you, thank you thank you.” he opened up my passenger door and sat down before closing it. “I’ve tried to get a signal for hours but there’s hardly anything out here.” He joked.

“Yeah the selected country parts of the UK can have some pretty crappy service. Once we reach close to Bristol it should work. But I’m gonna have to briefly turn around just to get us there.”

“Do whatever you’ve got to do. You’re very kind to do this for a complete stranger. Your parents must be very proud of you.” my hands gripped the wheel tighter and I said.

“Yeah. Yeah they are.” I turned my car around and drove back to where I saw the Bristol exit. “So……how exactly did your car break down?”

“I don’t know it just started sputtering and the next thing I knew….” He blew out a raspberry. Suddenly my head started to pound like a drum. I groaned as I rubbed my forehead trying to rid of the pain. “You okay?” he asked me.

“I—I don’t know I…..I need to pull over, right now.” I put my hazard lights up and pulled to the side of the dirt road. I put my car in park and leaned forward. God what the hell was going on? It’s like Roger was using my head as his personal drumkit. “Damnit what is wrong with me?”

“Perhaps you just need a bit of rest?” suddenly I felt something cover my mouth and nose. Panic aroused from me as I tried to fight back but the man quickly grabbed hold of me and pressed the rag or sponge whatever it was harder against my nose.

Shit I should never have let this guy into my car! I watch crime shows for this very reason! I’m such a dumbass. All I kept doing was trying to send a telepathic signal to Freddie hoping he would see what was happening but soon enough my fighting spirit ceased as my eyes soon closed and I was knocked out.

*John’s POV*

As the day went by finally the lads ceased their infernal argument and we were in the studio trying to see if we could finish up a new song that Freddie had written for (Y/n). All the awhile I kept having this very bad feeling that something happened to her, something very bad.

“Deacy? Oi Deacon!” I snapped out of my daze that’s when Brian said.

“Geez you looked even more spaced out than you normally are.” I glared at him.

“I’m just—thinking about (Y/n).”

“Oooo, is our little Deacon in love with a new woman?”

“What?! Eww no you filthy mongrel. It’s…..Fred are you sure you haven’t heard anything from her?” I asked Freddie worriedly.

“Not yet my darling. But you know it’s a long drive between here and London. Maybe she’s still driving. You worry too much darling, she’ll be…..” suddenly he lurched forward almost as if in pain.

We all looked at him fearfully as his face contorted to absolute fear before he flung himself back against the chair. His arms reaching upward like he was holding something, all the while struggling and grunting in a panic-like seizure.

We all gathered around him calling out his name before finally he lay there limp, his eyes closed and his face relaxed. I turned towards Roger and Brian and they were just as confused and frightened as I was.

“Fred? Freddie. C’mon mate wake up.” Roger shook him. Suddenly Freddie’s eyes opened and he gasped out.

“It was horrible……the worst fear I’ve ever felt.” His breathing was shaky and his eyes frantically searched around the studio.

“What Fred? What did you see?” Brian asked. It was then Freddie turned to me and he said regretfully.

“I’m sorry John. I’m really, really sorry. But you were right.” No! No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no it—it can’t be!

“What Fred don’t leave us hanging!”

“It was (Y/n) dears. She sent me a message. Someone’s kidnapping her.” At that point, had we’d been alive, our hearts would’ve sunk in fear.

“Who!? Who was it!?” Roger demanded as his drumkit got knocked over by the rage he felt.

“Calm down Rog! We’ll figure this out.” Brian assured him before turning back to Freddie. “Now Fred could you see anything? Like who it was? Or where she was at?”

“I just remember……fear. And muffled screaming.” Freddie sobbed as he gripped the side of his head.

“Okay, okay. Concentrate. The smallest detail will help us figure out who it could be.” Brian assured him.

“I couldn’t see him. But I felt her being pinned up……against someone’s chest. And…..it looked like she was in her-her car maybe? And…..” at this point his voice grew off into a haze as he tried to recall everything he saw through their telepathic message. “It smelled weird like—I don’t know I wish I could remember more!” Freddie leaned forward and wept.

Roger and Brian embraced him, rubbing his back gently shushing him. At this point I couldn’t handle being in the studio anymore. Somehow I ended back in my room, anger boiled inside me along with fear and heartbreak. I then threw my head back and just let out the most agonizing scream I could.

If any mortal were to see, they would’ve seen all the windows shatter from every building Rockfield farm studios had.

*My POV*

When I came around I saw nothing but candlelight dancing through a dark room. I groaned tiredly as my head was still slightly pounding but not as much as it was earlier. When my vision finally started to become clear, that’s when I saw some familiar drawings surrounding me.

All the Satanic markings, ancient drawings, hell the room itself was familiar. I was in the very room where I’ve been at in my dreams.

“I tried to warn you love. You’re meddling in things you shouldn’t be meddling in.” wait that accent. I slowly raised myself up from the floor and soon coming into light from the fireplace was him.

The man from my dreams.

“It’s you.”

“Yes it’s me. Your personal boogieman. Look since you wouldn’t listen to reason through your dreams, you forced me to take drastic measures.” He said. Wow this guy was really charming.

“You know an email or a threatening phone call would’ve sufficed.” I sassed at him.

“True but then you’d still probably go back to that farm. Am I right?”

“You don’t know me!”

“Oh on the contrary love, I know everything about you. (Y/n) Deacon, daughter to Robert and Sharleen Deacon who are divorced now right?” I glared at him. “Granddaughter to one Veronica Tetzlaff and John Richard Deacon. The bass player of the former band Queen. And you—little missy were just about to tell your granddad of who you really are.”

“So what if I was? You don’t know how lonely he is. If he knew that my nana still loved him and has told both my father and me about him…..”

“It could end the world.” I looked at him confused. He sighed heavily shaking his head disapprovingly. “I hate involving normal people into my line of business, but you’ve left me no other choice.”

“Just who exactly are you?”

“The name’s John Constantine. My family’s been cursed with being the fine line between this world and the afterlife. It’s my job to ensure that no demonic or spiritual presence tries to threaten our world. And to ensure no dumb teenagers go poking their noses in forces far beyond their reach.”

“If you’re referring to the first time I went to the farm, it wasn’t my idea.”

“But it was your idea to keep going there. Meeting the ghosts of Queen. And for that, you’re causing a shift in the balance.”

“So what now? You going to kill me?” I threatened.

“No. See I can’t kill another human being without probable cause. That and since you’re a kid with a family, I’d rather not be interrogated by the police. And I wouldn’t want your dear ol granddad to haunt my arse for the rest of my days. I get enough of that already.” He walked over and grabbed something off the table and he continued, “This is your last warning love. Stay. Away. From Rockfield farm.”

“The boys will know something’s up if I suddenly stop coming around.”

“Which is why I’m going to put them out of their misery and send their souls to the great beyond. They’ll no longer be stranded here, they can freely go up to heaven, blah, blah, blah heavenly stuff you know all that.”

“You can’t do that!”

“Better me than something else. And trust me, there are far worse things than people like me that want a snag at a few stray ghosts.”

“And what if I refuse to do as you say?”

“Man you are a stubborn girl.” He muttered impatiently.

“Call it a family trait. What’s so dangerous for me to stay away from Rockfield Farm?” he groaned and said.

“I really didn’t want to admit this but I guess I’m gonna have to dumb it down for you.” God this guy was a real arsehole. “Unlike the other three members, your grandfather still holds onto the memories of his human life. And when a ghost does that, it makes them dangerous. Extremely. Dangerous.”

“You don’t know my granddad. He couldn’t hurt a fly much less hurt me.”

“Really?” he asked more skeptically than questioningly. I nodded proudly. “Then answer me this then love,” he walked up to me and leaned down close to my face. “If you do tell him who you really are to him, that makes him even more bound to you. Then say the next time someone, be it mortal or even demon even hurts you. His bound to you would become unstable. When ghosts become unstable, they lose any sense of humanity. And when they lost their humanity, they’re nothing but shells of endless wails and overpowering abilities. He could bring down an entire city if he wanted to just to get back at whoever hurt you. And that becomes messy for me to clean up.”

“Glad to know this is more about you not wanting to clean up a bit of mess.” I sneered.

“Not when the mess is millions of dead bodies who were nothing but collateral damage. Trust me love when I say that your granddad is bad news already being a ghost with memories. And here’s something else if you don’t believe me.” He pulled out his phone with a news media post that read.

EARTHQUAKE SHAKES MONMOUTH!

What felt like a 5.5 earthquake shook the entire community of Monmouth Wales. Out of nowhere the grounds began to shake and some witnesses have claimed that it was sourced at the old Rockfield farm studios where witnesses have also claimed to see windows exploding.

“I know you must’ve sent some sort of message to them when I grabbed you.”

“Wait that was you? But….the guy that grabbed me had black hair.”

“Simple transfiguration spell love. I thought kids your age watched Harry Potter?” I glared at him. “Now I want your solemn promise, you will not. Go. To Rockfield farm anymore.” I looked down and I said.

“I can’t just suddenly ghost them. No pun intended. Let me go back and say my final goodbyes to them.”

“I can’t even let you do that poppet. It’s either you stop going, or put your family in grave danger because of your selfishness.”

What do I do? What do I do? If I suddenly stop going to the farm, the guys will feel like I’ve abandoned them. And Granddad he……he’ll be heartbroken the most.

“Well…..your answer?” he asked impatiently.

“Fine. I’ll do as you say.”

“That’s a good girl. Now then, I want you to wear this from now on until I can finish my job.” He held out a long silver chained necklace with a vile attached to it.

“Please tell me there’s no blood in that thing.”

“Don’t be stupid. It’s salt. Ghosts can’t get through a salt circle, nor can they get out of one. So long as you wear this, they can’t reach out to you telepathically.” He placed the necklace around my neck. “Oh and love, it’s best we keep this interaction a secret. Probably best to not let nana or daddy know of this.” He gave me a nod before suddenly placing the same cloth over my face and once again I was knocked out.

The last thing I heard him say was his warning.

“Now keep away for your family’s sake.”

When I awoke, I found myself in my own bedroom. I was in my bed and pressed to my forehead was a warm rag. I heard footsteps coming towards me and coming into my room was my nana.

“Oh (Y/n) you’re awake!” she quickly came up to me and cupped the side of my face frantically looking over me.

“Yeah uhh nana. I—I know this’ll sound strange but—how did I get here?”

“Don’t you remember? You drove all the way here but passed out as soon as you got to the door. You were freezing cold to the touch. I was so worried that you’d……” she pressed her hand over her mouth and I saw tears form in her eyes.

“Oh nana I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I worried you.” I hugged her and nuzzled her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around me and she sniffled.

“It’s okay love. I just…..I just couldn’t bear it if I had to lose you too.” I looked down, my eyes shining with regret.

Maybe that Constantine guy was right. Nana Ronnie loved me and dad so much, I could never live with myself if I got all of us hurt. Maybe it is best if I just—forget about the guys.

I guess—in a way I’m glad I didn’t tell granddad the truth yet, cause if I stopped going there had I told him, he would never let me or the world forget it.

It's gonna be hard to just forget the guys but I have to. For Nana’s sake.

So as punishment from my ad, he grounded me for a month and basically put me on house arrest. I wasn’t allowed to go anywhere unless it was to school and home. Any other places that I needed to go to like the library, had to be approved by the boss man himself.

Constantine also was a constant pop up in my life. This time he took my advice and actually managed to figure out my phone number and has been sending me text messages every other week or so. He’d inform me that right now the grounds were too icy to travel to the farm so he’d have to wait till spring to perform the exorcism.

Of course I couldn’t find it in myself to respond back to him telling him it was fine. I just deleted the messages and try to live on my life. Now I won’t deny I’ve missed the guys, especially granddad. For the first time in my life, I got to know more about my family than I ever had in years. Only for it to be taken away from me because some threat that Constantine won’t really tell me about.

I know there’s gotta be more than just my granddad’s potential of becoming a ‘bad ghost’. But I don’t know what.

Another couple months passed and finally it was springtime in England. The cherry trees were in full bloom, the weather was now more cooler, and the typical spring showers washed away any remaining snow that was left.

I was currently at school and today we were doing the mile and a half run for PE (UGGGGHHHH!!!) I don’t even know why we have to do this run? It’s just a way for people to show off on who’s got the fastest timing just so they can get up on the leader boards in the locker room.

And of course with no friends in PE, the runs get VERY boring so I was left alone to run by myself. That’s when I noticed something odd. A crow kept trailing beside me, cawing every now and then. At first I paid no mind to it (after all we get crows all the time).

But when I noticed that it was starting to swoop down closer and closer to me and literally following me no matter which way I swerved or even ran back, that’s when I got scared. Thinking I could outrun it, I ran past any remaining students that still hadn’t completed the mile and a half run.

The crow still right on my trail as it cawed and swooped down closer and closer to me. I turned around and that’s when I was shocked to see it’s black eyes suddenly turn pure white. Oh shit now it all makes sense, it was—suddenly the crow landed right on top of me and it was almost like my body just shut down as I collapsed right there on the ground.

Next thing I knew, I was in this empty blackness. There wasn’t anything in sight and it was dead silent. No birds, no chattering peers, no crow, nothing. Until……

‘(Y/n).’ I gasped at the familiar voice.

“D-Deacy?”

‘Do you know how worried we all have been for you? You’ve stopped coming to the farm. What has happened!?’ his worried tone made my heart clench.

��I’m sorry Deacy I……dad grounded me and then school got busy and……”

‘LIES!!!!’ sudden a harsh wind blew right in my face. It was like standing right next to a tornado or a hurricane with how hard this sudden wind gust was blowing right at me. I would’ve been knocked over if it hadn’t suddenly stopped.

When I opened my eyes and put my arms down from my face there right in front of me was granddad. His eyes full of heartbreak and betrayal.

‘The last thing you ever sent to Freddie was your kidnapping. Who was it? Are they threatening you!?’ oh god don’t let him get mad don’t let him get mad.

“No. I—Like I told you Deacy life just became busy. And the roads got too dangerous for me to travel on.”

‘That didn’t stop you before. How come none of us could reach out to you? It was like you dropped off the face of the Earth!’

“I don’t know Deacy I just…..”

‘What?! Hmm?’ I sighed heavily and turned away from him.

“I can’t tell you.”

‘Can’t tell me. Tell me what?’

“It’s too dangerous Deacy I can’t tell you.”

‘What? What is so dangerous that you can’t tell me? Unless it’s the fact that you no longer like us and think we’re nothing but a bunch of washed up has-beens. A waste of your time!’

“No John Deacon it’s not like that at all and you know it!”

‘Then what!? WHAT ARE YOU SO AFRAID OF!?’

“I’M YOUR GRANDDAUGHTER!!” I gasped and covered my mouth. His expression went from anger to shock.

‘Wha—what did you…..say?’ I sighed heavily and said.

“Your wife, Veronica Tetzlaff. Her—your son Robert is my father. Which makes me her granddaughter. Your granddaughter.” His face still held that stoic but shocked expression. He backed away from me and looked like he was trying to form words.

‘How long have you known?’ he asked me after a long bit of silence.

“After meeting you guys.” He exhaled sharply and rubbed his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry John I—I didn’t want it to be like this. I was gonna tell you back at the farm but then Roger he……”

‘Stop. Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop.’ He turned fully away from me. His shoulders rising and falling rapidly as his breathing got deeper.

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry granddad!” suddenly a flash of light blinded me and the next thing I knew I was hearing concerned mutters around me and my instructor Mrs. Hood say.

“(Y/n). (Y/n) Deacon can you hear me?” I let out a gasp and sobbing out.

“I’m sorry granddad. I’m so sorry.” I then just curled up and wept hysterically.

After that I was sent home early and Nana was my personal nurse. She asked me what exactly happened but I refused to answer her. I just kept silent throughout the rest of the day. Of course not wanting to push me, Nana left me alone for awhile and told me that dinner would soon be ready.

Right as soon as she left, my phone made it’s text tone. I reached out for it and it read out.

COME TO HYDE PARK IMMEDIATELY. NO EXCEPTIONS!

Constantine. I looked out towards my window and saw the branch that always hung right beside it. I knew I’d never make it pass Nana by going through the front or back door, so my best bet was taking the window. I ran up to it and opened it up and looked back to make sure that she wasn’t coming back up.

Then as carefully as I could, I got onto the branch of the tree and crawled to where the branch was the sturdiest. I looked down and it didn’t seem like that much of a high jump. So I held onto the branch and dangled there for a brief moment before exhaling out.

“Okay. One….two…..three.” I let go and landed on the ground before quickly racing towards the shed to grab my bike. Once I had it, I pedaled to the park.

When I got to the park, I stopped right by the lake and stood underneath the lamp post. It was maybe a minute later when the light suddenly started to flicker before going off. Soon the rest of the lights began to flicker before they too went off.

“You didn’t listen to me at all, did you love?” I turned and there coming right up behind me was John Constantine. “One thing. I ask one thing of you and you couldn’t even do that. Why didn’t you keep that salt necklace on like I told you?”

“It’s not like I had any choice. My PE teacher saw it and she forced me to take it off while we did our mile and a half run. She even pocketed it in her own pockets and refused to give it back till I finished the run. That’s when……”

“Brian possessed that blasted crow just so your granddad could talk to you. And then you go off and tell him the truth, didn’t you?”

“Again not my choice. He forced it out of me. I didn’t want him to think I had just abandoned them. Forgotten them! You know my life was perfect till you came along and had to fuck it all up!” I snapped at him.

“Oh believe me love, if you think I’m fucked up. Then you’re really not gonna be happy about what else is coming. Because of your reckless confession, now he’ll be after you.”

“If you mean my granddad that’s fine! At least now he knows his family hasn’t abandoned him!”

“I wasn’t referring to him.” He said grimly. Wait what? What was he meaning?

“Then what—”

“I’ll explain later. For now because of your big mouth, I’m gonna need to take you somewhere safe. Follow me.” He turned around and walked onward. I stayed in my spot thinking what could he be talking about? “Oi love stop your gawking and let’s get a move on! You’re exposed out here so let’s go!”

I followed behind him taking my bike with me as I kept thinking just what exactly could he be mean by Him. If it wasn’t my granddad I needed to worry about, then who?

*3rd Person POV*

Veronica was just finishing setting up the table for supper. She took her spinach casserole out of the oven and set it on the table and called up to (Y/n).

“(Y/n) dear. Dinner time!” when she didn’t get a response she looked up from the table and took off her oven mits. “(Y/n)?” she walked up the stairs. Unaware that a hand print came visible along the kitchen window.

Veronica came to (Y/n)’s room and when she looked inside and didn’t see her granddaughter there, she began to panic.

“(Y/n)? Where are you?” she looked in her closet hoping to find her hiding in there. “Don’t play around now love nana’s getting scared!” she quickly ran towards her son’s room to see if she had gone in there. She looked and looked but there was no sign of her granddaughter anywhere. “I love you so much don’t do this! (Y/n)!”

She came back downstairs and suddenly noticed that the house had grown colder. She thought maybe it had to do with the thermostat so grabbing her glasses she went over to the thing but saw that it was still at the normal temp. that her son always kept it on.

So……why was it growing colder and colder with each second?

As she could see her breath visibly come out with each exhale, a haunting, whispery like moan echoed through the house. Then she heard her name being called out.

“Veronica.” Panicked Veronica quickly went back up the stairs towards her room and quickly shut the door and locked it. She huddled against the corner of her room holding her Catholic cross necklace as she proceeded to plead the Lord’s prayer.

All the while her door suddenly started to frost over and started to bang and rattle, like someone was trying to break into her room.

“Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from……” as she continued with the Lord’s prayer only to have her door suddenly come down. And floating right there, she let out a horrified scream as she saw standing right before her very eyes.

The ghost of her dead husband. Beneath him a trail of black blood followed him as she slowly walked towards her extending his arm out to her. Groaning and moaning her name with agony.

Terrified Veronica let out a horrified scream as she tried to pray to God for protection.

“DELIVER US!” she cried out.

“Veronica……” She continued to scream in terror as she clenched her hand over her heart. “Help…..me…..” John pleaded as his mouth dropped in a haunting manner as Veronica finished.

“FROM….EVIL!!!” As she leaned her head against the wall all she could do was gasp and cry out in fear.

Coming in from another long shift at work, Robert came into the house and felt the coldness of it. But what frightened him was the fact he could hear his mother’s panicked screams from upstairs. He immediately dropped his stuff and raced up the stairs exclaiming.

“MUM!! MUM I’M COMING!!! HOLD ON!!” When he finally came into her room, the only thing he saw was his mum leaning against the corner, her face contorted into fear, tear stains on her face and she was clenching her heart in fear. “Mum! Mum are you okay what happened?”

She couldn’t speak. All that came out of her were gasps and whimpers of fear. Fearing she was having a heart attack, Robert phoned the ambulance.

Within minutes, they loaded her up and quickly took her to the hospital with Robert holding her hand trying to comfort his mum who was still in hysterics. He quickly pulled out his phone and dialed his daughter’s number.

*My POV*

Constantine had taken me to a safe house (to me it looked more like a bunker). All around there were books about spells, demons, every creature imaginable. Dusty tables with ingredients that you would find only in a voodoo shop.

“What is this place?”

“My own personal safe house. You were here before. Just down in the basement. Here no ghosts or demons can even get a mile from this place. Now then, let’s start off with—” my phone suddenly rang and he glared at me.

“Sorry it’s not like this is a movie theater.” I took my phone out and saw that it was my dad. Oh bugger! I internally groaned as I slid the answer button and I said slowly.

“Hey dad.”

‘First I’m not even gonna ask where you are. All I want you to do right now is get to London hospital as fast as you can.’

“What? What do you mean dad is everything okay?” before he could answer, I heard Nana Ronnie’s panicked voice gasp out.

‘My John! My John was a horrifying black-eyed demon!’ my eyes grew wide.

‘Just get to the hospital and I’ll meet you in the lobby. Your……Your nana’s had an accident.’ I was frozen in my spot.

“It can’t be.” I whispered.

‘(Y/n)? Did you hear what I said?’

“Yeah. Yeah dad I’ll be there soon.” I hung up the phone and Constantine looked at me with sympathy in his eyes. “Nana saw granddad. He scared her so badly that she’s on her way to the hospital.” He rubbed his hand over his face as he sighed heavily.

“I’m sorry love. I really am.”

“This is all my fault.”

“Well…….” I glared up at him telling him to not bullshit me.

“Don’t suddenly change your statement now. You’ve told me that something like this could happen. I should never have gone up to that farm in the first place. If I hadn’t nana wouldn’t be dying.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do! You should’ve heard her Constantine. She—she sounds like she could die from shock.”

“I hate to bring this up now love but—you do know what has to be done now right?” tears slipped down my face and I asked him.

“Promise me that they won’t suffer.”

“Passing on for a ghost is like going to sleep for us. I promise they won’t feel a thing. I’ll have a cabbie take you to the hospital to see your Nan and father. And hey,” he came up to me and placed his hand on my shoulder, “You’re doing the right thing. The spirits of Freddie Mercury, Brian May, Roger Taylor and John Deacon don’t belong here on Earth anymore. They’ve suffered enough being restless spirits. I’ll let you know when it’s done.”

He then left the bunker without another word. Just like he promised within 10 minutes a cab was waiting for me outside and the cabbie drove me to the hospital.

Once I got there, I saw my dad sitting anxiously on one of the chairs in the waiting room. When he saw me, he came up to me and I looked up at him with eyes full of tears. We didn’t say a word till I suddenly embraced him and I wept into his chest, pleading for forgiveness.

My dad wrapped his arms around me and stroked down my hair trying to comfort me. Together the two of us sat there and waited until a doctor would come and tell us nana’s update.

*3rd Person POV*

As the night grew darker, John Constantine arrived at Rockfield farm studios to finally put an end to the restless spirits of Queen.

“Alright, first to send these guys onward. Then focus on the real threat.” He grabbed some essence candles, a container of salt, his lighter, and an old iron candelabra shaft. He walked towards the barn with his bag of ghost equipment and he said as he stood right out the house. “Time to finally have some fun.”

He walked up the steps of the porch and opened up the wooden door of the living quarters. As it opened, it made its famed creaking sound and Constantine slowly walked inside.

“Alright where are you yah hard rocker ghosts?” he muttered.

‘You want us John Constantine? You’ve got us!’ soon a swarm of starlings suddenly flew out from the fireplace and burst through the windows. Frantically making their chirps and calls as they swarmed practically the entire house. Knocking over every antiques scattered throughout the house, damaging the curtains, and most of all trying to get a stir out of Constantine.

Constantine swatted the birds away with the candelabra shaft but it didn’t deter them away. Then as quick as they came, they soon vanished and the only thing standing there was him and Brian May’s ghost.

“I should’ve known you were the one behind the animal’s odd behaviors. I forget you also had an interest in animals, right?” Brian’s snide smile was cold as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Call it a side hobby. And I don’t control them. I share their vision to see beyond the reaches of the farm.” Constantine nodded snidely and sarcastically stated.

“How sweet of you.”

“Now tell us this,” Roger’s voice soon spoke up. Roger came out from the raging fireplace and continued, “How is it that when our sweet, loving (Y/n) suddenly stops coming around, it’s your ugly mug that we have to keep seeing snooping about the farm grounds?”

“And more importantly, what did you do with our beloved darling?!” Freddie’s voice snarled as he came up behind Constantine.

“Look gents if you really think I harmed her in any way you’re poorly mistaken. I just gave her some strict warnings to stay away from here less her and her family be in danger. Now enough gab, and let’s get down to work.”

“What kind of trouble?” Deacy’s voice soon spoke up. Coming out from the shadows was John Deacon’s spirit.

“Ahh, the grandfather. The guest of honor at last has arrived.”

“Enough talk, what did you mean trouble?!” Deacy demanded.

“Nothing you need concern yourself about. I’ll handle it from here, for now you lot can just move on after I—” suddenly Constantine was pushed up against the wall. The iron candelabra was tossed out of his hand and soon Deacy stood face to face with Constantine.

“Tell. Me. What’s. After. My. Family?” Constantine sighed heavily.

“Not a what. A who. A demon has been eyeing your granddaughter ever since she met you lot.”

“A demon?” questioned Roger.

“Yes. Beelzebub. One of the high keepers of Hell.”

“What does he want with our (Y/n)?” demanded Freddie.

“Apparently he’s pissed at not only the fact that the living is conspiring with the dead. But that it’s family related. Having future generations meet face to face if one is dead and the other living is strictly forbidden according to Hell and Heaven’s laws. As soon as I found out that she was being targeted by Beelzebub, I’ve tried to send her warnings about it to stay away from here.”

“Those dreams she’s been having. You were behind them all along?” Freddie said.

“Yes. But apparently she still kept coming. Mostly because of you John Deacon. Then I got a message from one of Beelzebub’s lackies a week before I came in contact with (Y/n).

“More like kidnapped!” Brian hissed. Constantine rolled his eyes and continued.

“Kidnapped, met with her, same thing. The point is, he told me that Beelzebub was not only coming for her, but for the rest of her family too. And he’s already managed to trick your living wife into seeing what you’ve become.”

“He’s hurt Veronica!?” Deacy raged out as the house began to shake.

“Deacy, Deacy dear calm down.” Freddie tried to soothe.

“Not hurt. But he sure as hell gave your wife a hell of a scare. And if I don’t stop him now, he’ll hurt (Y/n) as well as her father.”

“Robert.” Deacy whispered. Constantine nodded.

“So because of her interacting with us, we’ve marked her for dead?” Roger asked.

“Not if we can stop Beelzebub first my darlings.” Freddie said.

“How Fred? We can’t leave the farm grounds. We tried to when we first became ghosts it’s impossible to leave!” Brian said.

“You guys won’t be going.” Deacy said.

Everyone looked at the young bass player’s spirit. His friends and brothers looked at him like he was talking crazy.

“Deacy you’re not suggesting…..”

“I am Brian. The only one going is me.”

“Absolutely not dear I positively forbid it! I forbid you going alone!” Freddie said as he floated right in front of Deacy.

“You can’t suede me Fred. Not this time.”

“Deacy I know—”

“No Brian you don’t know what I’m going through!” Deacy snapped.

“Deaks she’s our family too. We love her just as much as you do. If she’s in danger then let us help you.” Roger said.

“No Roger. I’ve already risked my living family’s lives, I don’t want to risk you guys too.” Deacy then turned to Constantine and he said in a firm tone, “Do you know a way a ghost can leave his burial prison?”

“There might be a spell.” Constantine shrugged nonchalantly.

“Perform it then.”

“Sorry mate can’t do that. See I only came here for one purpose and one purpose only. And that was to send you and your friends to the great beyond. If you lot don’t go then you put yourselves at even greater risk of going straight to the looney bin of ghosting.” Constantine then felt Deacy’s hand at his throat, slowly squeezing it and he was slowly being raised up till he was almost at the ceiling.

“And if you don’t brew up something that’ll allow me to save my family, I’ll reach into the deepest parts of your brain and pull out each painful memory one by one forcing you to feel exactly how I’ve suffered and will suffer if anything happens to my family.”

“Alright! Alright you win!” Deacy released his grip and Constantine was dropped to the floor. He rubbed his throat and let out a few coughs. “Bloody hell now I see where your granddaughter gets her stubbornness from.”

“Enough talk. What is it you need to brew this spell up?” Deacy ordered.

“Nothing to exotic. Just the skull of an owl, feather of a crow, fur of a black cat, a few bluebells, and a dash of paprika.”

“We can manage that. Roger you know where the paprika is, Brian you can get the bird stuff, and I know where to find Midnight.” Freddie said. The three ghosts all left the living room leaving the two Johns in the room.

“A word of warning for you John Deacon, your powers might not be as strong as they are here on the farm. Also you’ll be prone to every ghost weakness in the book. Iron especially.”

“I don’t care. All I want is for my family to be safe, and for Beelzebub to go back to hell where he belongs. He picked the wrong family to target.”

“Family man till the end. That’s either very admirable or very stupid of you.” when the guys got back with the ingredients, Constantine grabbed his bag and brought out the gauntlet he was going to use to send the guys away, and poured the ingredients in.

“Deacy are you sure you should go at this alone?” Freddie asked worriedly.

“It has to be me Fred. If Beelzebub wanted to get a message out to me, he should’ve had the balls to come here himself. Not bring (Y/n), Veronica or Robert into this mess.”

“Alright Deacon, it’s ready. Just stand right over there.” Constantine said as he pointed to the center of the room. Deacy floated to where Constantine wanted him. As he poured out the sand mixed with the ingredients he needed, Constantine began to chant in ancient tongues. He circled around John pouring the sand out till it formed a circle.

He stood in front of him and held his hands downward to the ground. The sand suddenly sparked into a ring of fire as Constantine’s chanting grew louder and faster. Freddie, Brian and Roger stood there in shock at seeing their youngest brother and band member suddenly in a ring of fire that seem to spin faster and faster as it rose over John’s entire body.

At one final command, the fire disappeared and John’s spirit was gone.

“Where did he go?” asked Freddie.

“He’s been sent to the heart of London. But finding his family is all up to him now.” Constantine explained.

The three ghosts turned to look at each other worriedly and hoped that their friend would be okay.

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kbstories · 4 years

Text

impression//expression

“It’s not like Kirishima had come all this way to U.A. to immediately break the promise he made to himself upon arrival.

It’s just that Bakugou is as feral as they come, and the moment Kirishima recognizes it’s fear he felt crawling up his spine that day, he makes it his personal mission to face it head-on until it’s gone.”

(Or: Being friends with Bakugou Katsuki is anything but a linear experience. Kirishima Eijirou would have it no other way.)

Tags: Kirishima POV, Developing Friendships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Provisional License Exam & Aftermath, The Boys Are Fighting And Everything Hurts

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Additional content warning for bad communication, emotional breakdowns and general anxiousness. Chapter 9.

***

“Oi. Kiri.”

Another heap of sugar goes into Kirishima’s mug. He stirs a bit, then licks caramel-sweet goodness off the spoon. Perfect. With a content hum, he leans further into the embrace of his favorite armchair.

“Mmyeah?”

Across from him, Bakugou sips his own coffee. Looking all kinds of cozy from his perch by the window, shoes off, U.A.’s uniform narrowed down to just the shirt and pants. Only Iida and Momo have made it down to the common room yet, yawning their way through breakfast with last-minute notes spread out over the kitchen counter.

Their quiet conversation is mere background noise for them. It’s a familiar enough routine that neither duo exchanged more than acknowledging nods before settling into their preferred corners.

Bakugou toes the wood of the windowsill with socked feet, hands calm around his mug. His gaze idles on a group of sparrows outside.

“By this time tomorrow, we’ll be heroes.” Soft-spoken, the words nonetheless sound as solid as ever.

“Provisional ones”, Kirishima reminds him, a mix of excitement and nerves making his leg bounce, the carpet underneath ruffling with the motion. There’s still an exam to pass between then and now. “But still. Licensed and everything.”

“Mh”, Bakugou breathes into his coffee. He sends Kirishima a wry look over its rim. “Nervous?”

Thinking on it for a moment, Kirishima smiles. “Nah, not really. We worked our asses off for it. Like, we totally got this.”

Bakugou’s smirk comes swift and it stays: a dare for the world to do its worst, a promise to come out on top despite it all. Kirishima offers him his fist and Bakugou meets him in the middle, used to the gesture by now. Sparks crackle over rock-hewn skin.

“Damn right we do.”

The names flicker on the screen and Kirishima searches.

K, K, Ki, Kiri– There! Kirishima Eijirou.

“Hell yes”, he cheers, the doubts clinging to his heart dropping all the way to his feet. The second he’s got his phone back, he’ll scream-yell a voice message to his moms – finally, finally, Red Riot will exist out there. In reality, not just his wildest dreams.

Automatically, Kirishima jumps to the beginning of the list.

B, Ba, Baku–

Next to him, Bakugou sucks in a breath. That, more than anything, brings his head crashing from the clouds and straight to the ground, to the spot on that list where Bakugou’s name should be but isn’t. Kirishima frowns, his eyes scanning the row starting with B one more time.

“Dude, what…?” No Bakugou Katsuki. “No way.”

One glimpse, that’s all he gets. One glance at Bakugou’s face and that expression Kirishima recognizes from the longest night of his life, that déjà vu of devastation and loss a sucker punch nailing Kirishima right in the gut–

Before he can reach out, it’s gone. Bakugou grits his teeth and juts his chin up, and any trace of it is replaced by anger. Cold, lethal, seeping into squared shoulders and brows drawn deep enough to cast his gaze in shadows.

“Katsu–”

A harsh tch interrupts him, followed by a softer “Congrats, Riot” mumbled in Kirishima’s direction. Bakugou won’t meet his eyes, though, and when Kirishima’s fingers brush Bakugou’s, he crosses his arms instead.

“Thanks”, Kirishima mumbles back, all thoughts of celebrating dead and gone. He doesn’t try to reach out again.

1-A spills into the common room as one, smiles and laughter all around. The air previously heavy with anticipation now carries only relief, that clean petrichor taste that follows a downpour at the height of summer.

Despite the stone weight of worry in his stomach, Kirishima laughs along with them. He leans into the lanky arm Sero drapes across his shoulders and returns the fist bump Jirou offers him before Kaminari tackle-hugs the three of them towards the couches.

“Smash tournament! Now!”

“It is our last night off before the new term”, Jirou supplies with a shrug. A thoughtful look is cast towards Bakugou, turning sly as it meets Kaminari’s. “Though, may I propose: Rock Band?”

“Ohhh”, coos Sero, joined by an enthusiastic nod by Kaminari. “Whoo yeah! U.A.’s best fake guitarist, reporting for duty!”

Kirishima loves his friends, he really does. If there’s one thing Bakugou has consistently enjoyed during their hangouts, it’s violently crushing them via the e-drum set he brought from home. That thing shows some serious signs of wear, too, the silicone cover warped or even torn in places.

(The high score list features his name like five times before their resident runner-up – Shouji, surprisingly – even makes an appearance, additional limb advantage and all.)

“I’m in. Wanna duo, Jack?” Jirou gives Kirishima a thumbs-up from where she’s already setting up the microphones. He turns around. “Nitro, you–?”

Bakugou isn’t next to him anymore. Before Kirishima can ask, he hears Mina call out, “Blasty, where are you going?”, and follows the question to Bakugou’s turned back clearly headed for the elevators.

“Room”, Bakugou answers, clipped, rough. The glare he throws over his shoulder might as well be lines of caution tape fluttering in the wind, storm sirens howling in the distance. Keep out. “Have fun playing your shitty game.”

Kirishima sees the hurricane about to hit a second before Mina makes a grab for Bakugou’s wrist, determination shining in black-rimmed eyes. “It’s Rock Band”, she tells him, meeting the snarl on Bakugou’s face with stubborn compassion. “You love Rock Band.”

“What do you know, hah?” Bakugou snaps, tugging away. “Fucking– Get off me!”

Mina’s grip tightens, Bakugou’s hand is raised – familiar, so familiar, that glint of rage in blood-red pupils – and Kirishima is on his feet, pulling Mina behind himself to shield her from an explosion that never comes.

It’s a close call, though. Kirishima feels the heat coming off Bakugou’s palm, the wince he tries to hide when he clenches it to a fist instead.

“This isn’t your fight, Shark Teeth. Back off.”

“Bakugou.”

Firm, resolute. Kirishima’s voice is like volcanic glass: smooth on the surface, jagged around the edges. There’s a warning in there, too, his jaw clenched just as tightly as Bakugou’s. “Not cool, man. Mina’s just trying to help.”

Bakugou huffs at the mere notion of that. “Well, Mina can fuck right off. I don’t need shit from any of you.”

The truth is: Bakugou is different with Kirishima, he’s always been. Even now Kirishima can see him shift his weight, change gears in his mind, the door so firmly shut for others left ajar for him.

Bakugou only listens because it’s Kirishima speaking and he hates it, sometimes. Like his word counts above everyone else’s when it doesn’t, it shouldn’t.

“Look, I get why you’re pissed off but it’s not our fault, either. Alright? There’s no point in acting like this, dude.”

Bakugou’s eyes narrow, that sliver of a chance snuffed out of existence. A vicious sneer takes its place. “Acting like what? Like myself? Give me a break.”

“Guys”, Mina cuts in, sounding meek, uncomfortable. Bakugou doesn’t get to do that, not when he’s proven he’s better than that, time and time again – not when he’s careful with his quirk, when he’s stopped hiding that genuine smile that’s getting less and less rare, when he helps and soothes and pretends not to care and cares so fucking much.

Around them most of the class shuffles along, hovering on the sidelines. Kirishima can feel the looks, the hushed whispers ready to burst into existence, the fidgety sort of concern radiating from Midoriya in waves.

He ignores them all, looking Bakugou dead in the eye when he says: “No, Katsuki, like an asshole. It’s not like you at all.”

Behind him, Mina whispers, “Stop, Kiri, it’s okay.” From the couches come hisses of surprise, a murmured “Woah, dude” that sounds like Kaminari. It doesn’t matter.

What matters is that it hurts. It hurts to see Bakugou flinching like he’s been physically struck. To see emotion spill through the cracks in his armor, cracks Kirishima put there. But Bakugou listens when it’s him, and if there’s one thing he needs to hear, it’s this.

“Like, I get it. I know how it feels, you of all people know that. And extra lessons suck ass, believe me.” Kirishima takes a deep breath, letting go of his anger on the exhale until there’s only resolve, that strength he’s fostered and made his own with Bakugou at his side.

“But lashing out at people won’t fix anything. The stuff holding you back – it’s all you, man, that’s what you gotta work on. You’re the manliest person I know, so you’ll definitely get there, and then you’ll keep going until you’re Number One. There’s not a single doubt in my mind that’s how it’s gonna go. But it’s up to you to make sure it does.”

Bakugou is staring at him, pale-faced and still. He opens his mouth. “You done?”, he asks, his voice ground into something raw, something tired.

“Yeah”, Kirishima tells him, gentle again. “Yeah, I think I am.”

A nod. Bakugou glances past him, for a moment, at the ball of tension behind Kirishima that is Mina. Another nod, more hesitant.

“Blasty, I–”

Without another word, Bakugou leaves, shouldering past Midoriya on his way out. Kirishima watches him go and wonders if doing the right thing always feels so much like regret.

I fucked up.

Bundled up in his covers, Kirishima sits on his bed and stares at the wall. The cheerful colors and big exclamation points on his posters are little more than a blur, made obscure by the dark of night settling in around him.

The light switch is just across the room yet impossibly far away. Kirishima’s phone buzzes; the screen comes alive with a notification. It goes ignored.

I fucked up.

Kirishima’s gaze falls to the license in his hands, bland-looking next to the busy camo pattern of his favorite blanket. Red Riot, it says in bold letters under his name, date of birth and affiliation to U.A. – issued today, with the picture they took before they changed into their hero costumes. Himself, grinning with too much teeth, his hair freshly dyed and spiked to the heavens, his uniform done up meticulously.

It feels like a year ago that Bakugou rolled his eyes and fixed his collar, muttering something about ‘looking okay for once’. In turn, Kirishima had nudged and prodded him until he put on his tie, which lasted not one second beyond the flash of the camera.

But–

You done?

The card is small, unassuming, really. Kirishima blinks. One tear, then two pearl over flawless plastic. Three, four, head bowed as they drip, drip, drip down the tip of his nose.

Today wasn’t supposed to go like this. They were supposed to get their licenses, take the night off, sing and laugh and headbang to their audience of pixelated metalheads and forget the world for a while.

It was supposed to be about them, about the dream they shared over coffee this morning. About the future they’re reaching for, together.

Kirishima wants to toss the license to places unknown, wants to tell himself that it means nothing but it does. He waited for this moment longer than he cares to trace back, a long time, definitely. All that hard work, the sweat and blood he shed for it – perhaps it’s only right he adds tears to the mix.

Gods, I fucked up so bad.

He sniffs wetly, sets the card aside. There’s a spot for it in his wallet, he made sure of that as they stepped off the bus. Still, he needs to keep it in sight, like object permanence stops being a thing where one’s hero status is concerned.

Again, buzz buzz, his phone rattles quietly against wood. With a shuddering breath, Kirishima reaches for it, reads Simply Mina and 🦊 Eevee Squad 🦊 and swipes right until his home screen is just Riot’s canine smile again. All it does is remind him of an afternoon spent out in the yard, of a snoring dog and gentle touches to soft fur.

Two taps, and he’s back where he started: Staring at fond, red eyes in the corner and the unanswered messages underneath. Kirishima’s lips start to tremble.

Best Bakubro 💣💥

hey (sent 18:12)

can we talk? (sent 18:12)

i’m sorry (sent 18:30)

i’m so fucking sorry baku idk what i was thinking (sent 18:31)

just. please (sent 18:35)

idk what to do (sent 18:35)

katsuki? (sent 19:01)

The last three are still unread. Kirishima had just calmed himself down from the panicked jolt of blue ticks and grey ticks and Bakugou’s gone when a door had slammed shut hard enough to rattle Kirishima’s desk.

Kirishima wanted to go out there. He wanted to catch up to Bakugou and explain himself and make things right; instead he’d stayed right where he was and listened to his distinct stomp growing more and more faint like the coward he is.

There’s been nothing but silence ever since.

“Stop”, Kirishima whispers, a strangled, pathetic noise amidst the tears sliding down his cheeks. “Just s-stop. Fucking stop.” Tilting his head back, he knocks it against the wall, hoping against all hope that he’ll stop crying, that this shivering, miserable thing in his chest will relent and let him breathe for a bit.

Instead, he clenches his eyes shut and lets out a choked sob. It’s followed by another, another, until Kirishima presses his face into the blanket and gives in.

Hands fisting in loose hair, he curls in on himself, head tucked against his knees and desperately gasping for air. The walls are thick but not that thick – Shouji can probably hear him, if he’s even in, and Kirishima silently begs him to stay away. To be allowed to break in private like he’s done a thousand times before, after every moment he spent frozen in place, every time he didn’t act fast enough or act at all.

Were you scared?

He hadn’t been. For once in his life, Kirishima hadn’t been afraid – he’d been angry, furious even, hopeful and disappointed and worried and he’d fucked up because of it. That moment Bakugou shut up and just… took whatever Kirishima had to say is burned into his brain, aching and tender to the touch. Kirishima can’t stop putting his finger on it, though, like revisiting it will make it sting less, somehow.

It doesn’t.

Time is a fickle concept. Kirishima is aware it passes, he’s aware his blanket is soaked, that his back hurts and his heart hurts and his head, too. He’s back to blankly looking at his wall and seeing nothing, only interrupted by an occasional sniffle, when–

The snap of a lock turning, a door opening and closing, much quieter than before.

A glance to his clock tells him it’s an hour to midnight and way past curfew. The worry he felt earlier rekindles, glows bright enough to overshadow any other emotion swirling within him. It’s not like Bakugou to be up this late. It’s not like him to break rules like this.

It’s not like you at all.

Roughly, Kirishima rubs his arm over his face. Enough crying. Enough hiding away. Bakugou deserves better than public callouts and texts sent in a panic. Kirishima promised himself he’d be better – it’s worth next to nothing if he can’t keep it.

That fact doesn’t prevent his heart from beating half-way up his throat by the time he slips out his door and stands in front of Bakugou’s. His hand shakes as it’s raised to knock; Kirishima wills it to steady and raps his knuckles against wood, mindful of the late hour.

“Bakugou?”

Nothing.

“Listen, I…” Kirishima breathes through the squirming of guilt in his gut. “I messed up, man. I know you’re in there and if you’d rather not see me, that’s fine. But I know I hurt you a-and I want to apologize if… if you’ll let me.”

Wringing his hands, he blinks heavily and wills himself not to tear up again. Bakugou has every right to shut him out; it’s up to Kirishima to do what he should’ve done in the first place and respect his wishes.

It’s a reality he doesn’t have to face, however – the knob turns and the door cracks open the slightest bit. When it doesn’t move beyond that, Kirishima pushes for it to open further, sticking his head through the gap.

“Nitro?”

Silhouetted by his bedside lamp, Bakugou is tossing up his covers to properly burrow inside them. “Get your ass in here already”, he says over his shoulder, a bite to his tone Kirishima recognizes from their early days. “And close the door. It’s fucking late.”

He practically jumps to the task. “Okay, yeah, sorry!” Once the door clicks shut, Kirishima shuffles his feet, wanting to get closer but unsure if he’s allowed. Carefully, he makes his way over and stops, half a step in the circle of light cast around Bakugou’s bed.

“So. Um…” His hand brushes red strands behind his ear. His palms are sweaty. “I–”

“Did you mean it?”

Bakugou doesn’t even sound angry; Kirishima would definitely deserve it if he was. He’s unsure if that no-bullshit edge is any better, though, swallowing heavily. “Yeah. Well, kinda. The– the words were right but…” He clenches his hands to fists, brings his gaze up to look at him.

Kirishima’s eyes widen. The rest of that sentence flees from his mind entirely.

“What…?”

Scrapes, bruises, gauze stuck to both cheeks, bandages wrapped around both arms. Back to the wall, legs loosely crossed in front of him, Bakugou looks like he went a round or five with a superpowered bobcat, dried blood clinging to some of the many scratches on his skin.

Yet his eyes are focused, pinning Kirishima with the same precision with which he handles everything in life. “But?”

“Bakugou! What happened?!”

“Picked a fight.” A sharp sniff. Bakugou shrugs like he couldn’t care less. “‘s none of your business. Answer my question.”

Ouch. Kirishima doesn’t linger on that, he can’t, too busy mentally cataloguing the damage and trying not to drag Bakugou to the infirmary ASAP. Which–

“We gotta– Recovery Girl. She’ll heal you right up.”

Bakugou huffs a laugh, no humor in it whatsoever. “Already went. It’s done. Answer the fucking question, Kirishima.”

It’s incredibly hard to unstick his mind from whatever the hell happened there. Like a wrestling match with his own thoughts, struggling to get them on the wrong set of tracks despite his brain frantically gesturing towards Bakugou.

Kirishima rubs his palms over his face, pats his cheeks none-too-gently for good measure. Focus.

“Right. Yes, I meant what I said. It’s– Mina isn’t me, Baku. She can’t take your anger like I can, okay? They… they were just trying to cheer you up and you were out of line. But–”

Bakugou’s gaze isn’t letting him go, intense like they’re mid-battle and he’s trying to figure out Kirishima’s next move. Guard all the way up. Kirishima drops his hands, wide open.

“Your day was already crappy enough without me putting you on the spot like that. You said you wanted to go and I forced you to stay and deal with even more stuff because I was angry and worried and… Yeah. I went about it all wrong and I’m sorry.”

Those damn tears are lurking at the corners of his eyes, itching and burning but Kirishima fights them off. He nods to the ground.

“I really let you down. That’s all I wanted to say.”

Kirishima waits. For a moment that feels eternal, he stands there with his head bowed and his fingers clinging to the edge of his shirt. He fully expects to be met with silence until he gets the memo and leaves.

Then Bakugou sighs.

“You look like hell, y’know that? Your eyes are all puffy and shit.”

Wincing, Kirishima nods again. “I know.” He peeks up through the gaps in his hair.

Bakugou huffs, exasperated and so much more like himself. “Don’t give me that. I’m still pissed at you.”

There. A chance. All it takes is a leap of faith. “But?”, Kirishima asks quietly.

“But nothing, fucker. I’m pissed, full stop.” A glower that would make a quirked-up Aizawa proud. Bakugou crosses his arms; Kirishima ducks his head. “You’re lucky you’re you or I’d have kicked your ass straight to whichever place stupid potato dogs like you go to when they die.”

Don’t laugh. Kirishima bites his lip. Half a second later, a pillow smacks his shoulder with impressive force.

“Shut up. I got it, okay? I know I’m”, a pause filled with teeth grinding audibly, “difficult, I guess. And an asshole. I know all that.”

The urge to laugh is replaced by a shot of vertigo, like Kirishima missed a step down a flight of stairs. Their eyes meet, and Bakugou glares.

“It’s what you said. Don’t you dare take it back now.”

“But that’s not what I mea–”

“Tough shit, bitch, ‘cause that’s what I got from it. It’s fine, okay? If someone’s gonna call me out on my bullshit it’s gotta be you. It’s just–”

Bakugou drops his hands in his lap, staring at the bandages running up to his elbows. There are blisters on his right palm, visible even in the half-dark.

“Not in front of everyone?”, Kirishima offers in a small voice.

A tense breath. “Yeah. Makes me wanna blow up and lose my shit for real.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You already said that. I told you it’s fucking fine.”

“But–”

“Eijirou.”

Kirishima’s heart squeezes. Bakugou looks so exhausted and it’s all his fault. Still, he mumbles, “Okay”, and he wordlessly swears on everything he holds dear that he’ll listen, next time. That he’ll trust Bakugou to do the right thing and stay in control.

“Okay.” Bakugou’s eyes are on him again, less heavy now. “I don’t wanna talk about the fight, either.”

Kirishima’s hands clench, not tight enough to rip into the fabric but close enough. “At all or…?”

“Not sure yet. Definitely not tonight.”

“Okay”, Kirishima repeats. It’s not forever. He can handle anything if it’s not forever. “Um. Are we cool? I get it if… not. I can leave, too. Whatever you want.”

Unexpectedly, Bakugou groans, almost… amused? “Screw you. I should be milking the fuck outta this but… Yeah, we’re cool.”

Oh. Kirishima can’t help the way his resolve wobbles with how relieved he is, keeping his shaky inhale as stealthy as possible. He fucked up and his best friend doesn’t hate him. They’re gonna be okay.

“Kiri…”

There’s a strange expression on Bakugou’s face, pinched and frustrated-looking. His eyes are soft, though. Concerned. “Stop crying, you big baby. C’mere. And bring my pillow, I actually need it.”

Kirishima keeps it casual. He grabs the pillow and pads over instead of running. He tosses it in Bakugou's lap, earning a grumbled, “Thanks.”

Almost casual. There’s an attempt, at least, chucked right out the window the second Bakugou sort-of-maybe-kind-of indicates the possibility of a hug. Then he’s throwing himself on the bed, the sight of raw skin and gauze-white turning his tackle into a marginally gentler embrace of Bakugou’s shoulders.

Bakugou squeezes back, brutally tight. “Hold back on me again and I’m kicking you out.”

A wheeze of breath turns into hushed laughter. “I’ll do better.” Kirishima tucks his face against Bakugou’s neck and sniffles. “I’ll be good, Nitro, I swear.”

Bakugou knocks their heads together, too gentle to even register as that. His lips against Kirishima’s temple, he mumbles, “You already are, idiot. One dumb mistake won’t change that.”

>>Chapter 9.

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #mha #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #kiribaku #bnha fanfiction #this fic is also on AO3!!#baku is soft - a longfic #my stuff

22 notes · View notes

the-hilda-librarians-wife · 4 years

Note

Potentially loaded question but do you think Frida was forgiven a little too easily? Like considering how much she lashed out at Hilda and David then turned to the marra. I know she's a kid and it's understandable to make mistakes, but from a story structure point of view was it earned or rushed? This came up in a discord chat and

you're the most active Hilda blog I've seen (also you're super cool and I accidentally hit send too early 🤣)

Hey there, anon! Okay, so... I had actually never given this topic much thought before, so after I read you ask this stuck in my head. I even re watched The Black Hound so I could remember things and answer you properly. I’m not the best at media analysis, but this is a very interesting point that you brought up so I’ll do my best to break it down so I can try to explain my mixed feelings about this subject.

(Also please forgive me but this is not at all a straight forward answer, I’ve rambled a bit so there’s even a cut😅)

First off, I think we should consider Frida’s mistakes as two separate things: one would be lashing out at Hilda and David, and the second one would be joining the Marra. It’s clear that they’re both connected and that one led to the other, but their orders of magnitude are so different that I think it wouldn’t be appropriate to consider them the same mistake.

So let’s begin by her lashing out. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure that the argument scene was right after they fought a ghost. Taking that into consideration, I can understand why she lashed out. She was feeling scared after a life threatening situation, and that plus the emotional stress that she was going through, with questioning everything she’d ever thought she was, made her burst. But even though it was understandable, it wasn’t justifiable, specially since she told Hilda some things that didn’t even have to do with the ghost situation.

And stopping to think about it, it did sort of bother me that this happened, and then Hilda and David after long seemed to have forgotten it. In the Nisse episode, they’re worried about Frida missing classes and sparrow scouts meetings, and so they simply go to her house and... act completely normal. It is normal for people to be worried when they know someone they care about is going through a rough patch in life and it stops them from leaving their house. I mean, it’s a symptom of a few mental illnesses, even. But the fact that they just went to her house, no questions asked, and acted as if nothing had happened just didn’t sit well with me. Especially because it would have been a simple matter to solve. People lash out with some frequency, it’s nothing out of this world. If Frida had just apologized and explained why she had said what she did, things would have been fine, somewhat. But she didn’t really, and things only got worse.

And that takes us to the Marra issue. Not only did Frida all but discard her old friendships without amuch of a reason, she also looked for friendship somewhere else. But let’s think about it, though. Frida isn’t going to school. Frida hasn’t been leaving her house, we know this. So how could she have met Kelly? This whole situation gives me the feeling that somehow the Marra know when someone is vulnerable, and that Frida was manipulated to become Kelly’s friend.

Sounds reasonable, right?

But the thing is that Kelly isn’t just some mean girl that Frida wants to impress (probably because when you’re young you think teenagers are cool for some reason). Kelly is a marra and Frida knew that.

In the end of The Nisse, we see Frida around the campfire, feeding off of nightmares herself, and in the beginning of The Black Hound, we see Kelly throwing Frida forward saying “last to join, first to get eaten”. These two occasions make it clear that Frida didn’t only befriend her, she joined the Marra, even though it seemed like she was at some sort of apprenticeship stage still. And that’s something I can’t wrap my mind around.

This isn’t lashing out in the heat of the moment. She had time to form a “bond” with Kelly, and I’m assuming that she didn’t only learn that she was a Marra after Kelly brought her to the forest. I mean, if she’d just dragged Frida to the campfire and said “surprise, I’m a nightmare spirit and I’m recruiting you!” she’d definitely try and get away, because she’d be scared! So there was some time for her to get used to that idea, not only that Kelly was a Marra, but also that they wanted her to be one as well.

I could argue that Kelly groomed Frida to accept, and it’s a factor that we definitely should keep in mind; grooming is not something to be taken lightly. But after what we see in The Nightmare Spirit? I’m sorry to say this, but Frida should have known better. She saw those spirits torturing her best friends. She had already seen what they were. And I can’t get it in my head that she simply ignored that! That could have been some sort of revenge against them, but it wasn’t, because there seems to be no more resentment from Frida’s side after her blow up in The Ghost. So something that could easily have been vengeance (even though Hilda and David did nothing wrong) was actually just what she chose? Probably manipulated but otherwise unprompted?

And now we get to her “redemption arc”. Let’s take a look, shall we?

This scene happened right after they ran away from the hound. Frida offers to help him, and this is what she says while doing it:

“You were right, you know? About my new, so called, friends.”

This quote actually made me realize something. I could be wrong, but has Frida, at any point in the series, said that David was right? Specially while saying that she was wrong? We see her look remorseful in The Sparrow Scouts, but I don’t think we’ve ever heard her saying that she was wrong before, and I think it was probably very hard for her to say it. Next, she says:

“I’m sorry, I’ve been acting like an idiot.”

And to her credit, she really does look sorry.

For the next few minutes of this episode, there are other instances where she tries to take back what she’s said and done. When Hilda is with her by her door, she says she trusts her and comes up with a plan to help her get a badge. When she is collecting Kelly’s garage sale stuff, she tells him to keep her plushie, because “it’s never a good idea to throw away your real friends”. And while I loved those scenes (and that last one was quite the shade she threw at Kelly, ngl), I’m not at all sure that this serves as a redemption arc (amen, after eleven paragraphs I finally answered the question!)

If all of that had been said before her joining the Marra, I would have thought it perfect. Like you said, anon, she’s a kid, it’s understandable that she doesn’t have a good enough grip over her emotions not to lash out in stressful situations. But this was all done after a more complex and problematic action on her part.

So what would have been a good redemption arc? Well... I don’t think she’ll be completely redempted before she does something to earn their friendship back, instead of just saying apologizing. It would be super cool to have her actually, idk, “resist temptation” for her friends. Maybe if the marra came back and a tried to manipulate her into joining them again, and she refused, that would be a nice way to tie her redemption arc.

Since what you asked was an opinion and not an AU, let’s get back to it. I think it was really easy to have Frida just deliver a few meaningful lines and try to help Hilda earn a badge (though I think she would have done that regardless of trying to apologize, and so would any good friend) and write her off as redempted. But that really didn’t work completely, because it’s easy to be kind and nice when the problem has already passed. How will Frida react when their friendship goes through another tough situation? Will she lash out again or has she learned from her mistakes? We don’t know, because at no point was it shown that she learned.

And now we get to how I feel about it from a storytelling point of view. This redemption is what had been building up since episode 9, and since the Vittra episode we were shown that Frida needed a cold reality shower. Don’t get me wrong, I love her, but if she didn’t realize that she couldn’t be perfect, and that putting her attempts at perfection above her friends was an awful choice, she would only have problems later in life.

What I mean is, with so much build up to this arc, and so much significance to it, it’s disappointing that we had what, half an episode for it? If only the time had been taken to put Frida in a situation where she proved that what she went through made her learn, but no, they didn’t take the time. Which is a shame, because seeing Frida’s character development is always delightful to me.

Summing it up: Frida’s lashing out made sense to me and it was a somewhat easy matter to solve. However if there’s no more said about this topic in season 2, her redemption arc will have been, in my eyes, rushed and incomplete, because nothing was done to show that Frida actually learned. It’s a shame that they didn’t dedicate more time to expanding on that arc, because it was a story that was due to being developed ever since the first episodes.

Thank you for this ask, anon! This was very fun to think about and write, and I’m happy to know I come across as cool :D

#frida hilda #hilda the series #hilda netflix #does this count as meta? i think it does #hilda meta #frida #wife answers asks

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rocksandrobots · 4 years

Text

Of Rocks and Robots Ch. 23 - Presents and Portals (Part 2)

Hiro, Varian, and Fred stood inside BH6's headquarters and watched surveillance footage of a recent robbery with Sirque. She threw the metal balls into the air and then jumped through a portal that appeared between them.

"It's an interesting idea," Varian mused as he cupped his chin in thought,"but it doesn't look very practical. You'd eventually run out of those magnets like that."

"It's also not very stable." Hiro added. "Remember this is based off the Silent Sparrow project, same as your work. Every time Krei's portal tech has been used, it's resulted in either a blow back or someone getting trapped in the void. If Sirque keeps using these portals it's going to cause another implosion, even bigger than the last one."

Fred picked up one of Hiro's electromagnet gloves and began to play with the magnetic balls. They strung together as if on some invisible string. "So what's your idea?" He asked them.

"I could use my electromagnetics to stabilize the portal but that requires finding a way to follow her." Hiro replied.

"I might, could whip up my own portable portal, but I'm having trouble getting the coordinates right on just the stationary one. I doubt she has any directional controls on hers either." Varian said.

"So no way to track it then, and no way to reliably follow her using our own portals." Hiro hummed in thought. "I guess I could follow after her directly if I added rocket boosters to my suit."

"What!?" Fred dropped the magnets in shock. "You can't go back in there!" He protested.

"Why not?" Asked Varian.

"Look with rocket boosters I could maneuver through the void." Hiro argued. "Not unless you got any better ideas."

"The void? You mean where Abigail got trapped?" Varian started to understand Fred's protests.

"I am receiving a call from Gogo." Baymax interrupted.

"Put her on." Hiro answered.

Baymax casted a video call to the viewing screen upon the wall.

"Guys, we have a major problem." Gogo said with deadly spaciousness.

"Wasabi and Karmi's gone missing." Honey Lemon cried over Gogo's shoulder.

Hiro's stomach dropped. "What do you mean?"

"We found the destruction of another implosion. We asked around and someone caught the event on their phone." Gogo held up a phone, the screen facing her own phone. The guys could just make out the blurred images of a green car being sucked into a portal.

They all stood still as fear gripped them.

"I'm going ahead and building the rocket attachments." Hiro finally said in determination.

"And I'm going to study these portal magnets to reverse engineer them." Varian added.

"And I'll… I'll…" Fred faltered as he couldn't think of what to do.

"You'll keep watch of the viewing screens as you and Baymax scan the city for any odd energy spikes or anomalies." Hiro told him. "Gogo, you and Honey Lemon keep patroling the city and be on the lookout for Sirque. When she shows back up, notify us. She's the only hope we have of saving Wasabi and Karmi right now."

With their orders known the team dispersed to take care of each of their tasks.

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

"We got an energy spike in front of the art museum...wait no...hold on…it's now in front of the bank in downtown." Fred announced.

"It must be Sirque. She's using the portals again." Hiro replied as he screwed in the last repulser onto his suit.

Gogo called in.

"Sirque just appeared at the first national bank. She's busy robbing the place, so if you've gotta a plan, now's the time to come on over."

"We'll be there shortly, but don't engage Sirque until we get there. Only intervene if she starts to leave before we arrive." Hiro ordered.

"Got it." Honey Lemon confirmed and the two girls ended the call.

"I wish we had more time to field test this stuff." Varian said irritably as he scooped up the portal magnets and placed them in his coat pocket.

"I know, me too, but we gotta take this opportunity while we have it,"and with that said Hiro began to put on his new rocket suit.

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

Hiro and the rest of the guys joined Gogo and Honey Lemon on top of the roof of the bank. Varian rode on Baymax's back while Hiro took the opportunity to test out his rocket boosters.

The flight over had been easy enough, after some quick adjustments to the stabilizers, but the landing was a little trickier. Hiro couldn't stop himself from falling flat on his butt after cutting off the replusers.

"Ooof."

Fred was seconds behind him and helped to hoist him back up. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Hiro answered.

"Well you better be," Gogo chimed in, "cause Sirque just scared off the last of the police. She's about to leave."

They all peered over the edge to see Sirque throw her customary magnets into the air and then jump through the writhing window that appeared.

"Okay. Here I go." Hiro steadied himself and with a deep breath, turned the rocket boosters back on.

"Be careful!" He heard Honey Lemon call after him as he flew down and dove into the portal before it closed.

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

The first thing Hiro noticed was not the void, but a shop sign. Sirque's portal had cleaning transported them on a street corner. Where, he didn't know.

Sirque turned around and gave an annoyed scowl upon seeing him. She threw another hand full of magnets into the air and jumped through yet another portal.

And so the chase began. Portal after portal, Hiro flew after her. However, each subsequent gateway was less stable than the last. After about the fourth or fifth jump, Hiro finally found himself inside the void that haunted his nightmares. The exit portal rushed up to meet them and Sirque flew through it, barely registering the change. But Hiro kicked back his thrusters to halt his momentum. He desperately looked around.

Fortunately he spotted Wasabi's car floating nearby. He flew over to it hoping against hope that his friends were alright.

They were. Wasabi had the forethought to convert his vehicle into its submarine mode once it flew into the void. It was air tight, and while no doubt uncomfortable, he and Karmi remained safe. He waved to Hiro through the windshield and excitedly woke up the sleeping Karmi seated next to him.

Hiro sighed in relief and thanked the stars that he and Gogo had installed the sub feature months ago. He used his electromagnet whips to latch onto the car and used his rocket boots to pull them towards the exit.

It was slow going but ever so surely they inched their way along. However, to Hiro's horror he saw the portal shrink and then close.

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

Sirque wound up right back where she started from, in front of the bank. She looked back to see if the annoying superhero had followed her yet again, but he made no appearance.

Confident that she had finally managed to shake her pursuer, she turned around only to be greeted by more armoured vigilantes.

She rolled her eyes in exasperation. She just couldn't catch a break today.

"Hold it right there, circus lady!" The one dressed like a lizard yelled.

She took a defensive stance, but soon all were distracted by the tall armored girl who let out a scream.

"Noooo! The portal!" She yelled.

Sirque looked behind her and saw the portal close. She didn't understand what the big deal was about the portal shutting down. It'd be more of a problem if it hadn't done that.

She shrugged and while they were still fretting over the lost gateway, she attempted to make her escape.

She cartwheeled away and threw some more magnets into the air. Once again, she made herself ready to jump into the portal, but this time something went wrong.

The swirling blue vortex turned red and the electricity that connected the magnets twisted and writhed. The wind picked up and started to suck things into the portal. Soon she felt her own feet give out from under her and she was lifted off the ground.

She would have been sucked into the void if not for the yellow suited girl who tackled her and then pulled her out of the way of the gaping maw.

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

Hiro saw a second portal open up just to the right of him and he turned and started heading towards that one instead. Only something was wrong.

Debris was flying through the opening and Hiro felt a strong force of wind push him and the car back. He tried to divert power from the lights of his helmet to give the rocket boosters on his boots more thrust, but it didn't help.

They were still being pushed back. Hiro had to pull them out of the way of the portal or risk being swept away into the void for good.

"What'll we do?" asked Honey Lemon frantically. "Can Hiro make it through the other portal?"

"No," yelled Varian over the howling wind,"that portal is too unstable. It's sucking everything into it. He'd have to fight the current to get out."

The portal crackled and fizzled and the gang felt the earth tremor underneath them.

"Okay, that didn't sound good." said Fred.

"It is the portal." Sirque warned with a heavy French accent. "It's deteriorating. If it does not close soon, the portal will implode. We must leave."

"Not without Hiro." Gogo said, still holding tight to Sirque so that she couldn't run away.

"But… but I do not have a way to shut it down!" She protested.

"You mean you didn't build an off switch!?" Fred yelled incredulously and all Sirque could do was look sheepishly at him. She had been so sure of her skills and her tech that she hadn't anticipated this problem.

"Fortunately, I did." Proclaimed Varian as he finished fishing out the last of the portal magnets from his coat pocket. He threw them into the air and then pulled out a controller that he'd built for them. He pressed the button on the remote and the magnetic balls began to spin in the air as they linked up with one another. He adjusted a dial and a portal began to open.

At first the portal showed only the other side of the street, at the stoplight just a block away. The gang could see it's mirroring window shimmering off in the distance. Varian turned the dial once more and the scene changed again while the exit portal at the end of the street disappeared. This time the portal showed a cafe, they couldn't tell where exactly, but sunlight streamed through the opening out into night filled street, as the cafe's patrons scattered away in fright of the strange sight.

Varian readjusted the dial once more and finally the formless colors of the void appeared. And there was Hiro pulling along Wasabi's car.

"You did it!" Honey Lemon cheered.

"You used centripetal force to steady the portal." Sirque said, clearly impressed. "What did you use for navigation?"

Gogo shut her down. "Save the physics questions for another time."

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

Hiro glanced back over his shoulder desperately to see if his friends were still alright. Karmi silently met his gaze. Her eyes wide with worry and fear. He gulped as he racked his brain for a plan.

Just then Hiro spotted another portal opening off in the distance. He quickly changed course and started yet again to pull them all out.

While it remained quite a distance away, the new portal held a steady shape and offered no resistance winds. Hiro couldn't help but give a smile when he looked up ahead and saw Varian on the other side intently looking at a remote control. This was his work, Hiro knew, and he'd never felt so relieved to see the goggle-wearing teen.

"There he is! I see them!" Fred joyously yelled.

Baymax ignited his thrusters and dove into the portal to assist. It took a minute, but the robot finally reached them and went behind the car to help push it along faster. Though they still had a ways to go.

Just then the controller in Varian's hands began to admit smoke.

"Oh no. This is bad." He warned.

"What is it?" Gogo worried.

"The device is overheating. The magnets can't stand the friction much longer. They need to get out of there quicker before the portal breaks."

Honey Lemon ran up beside him and pushed some buttons on the side of her purse. Out popped two red balls. She smashed them together and when they pulled apart they created a goopy, sticky, stretchy rope like substance. She threw one end to the ground and hurled the other end into the portal. It attached itself to Hiro's waist. She then repeated the process two more times, attaching those ends to the car. Once secured, she grabbed the ropes and started to pull.

Fred joined her in her efforts. While Varian tried his best to keep the portal going, desperately fiddling with remote. Soon Gogo let go of Sirque to help her friends.

Sirque paused for a moment. She was free to leave, and that would have been the smartest course of action, but she found herself running over to help the struggling group of heroes anyways.

Never let it be said that she didn't pay her debts, Sirque thought to herself as she grabbed hold of the rope as well.

Finally, after much effort, Hiro flew out of the portal followed closely by Baymax who carried the car that held Wasabi and Karmi.

"They made it!" Varian whooped which then quickly turned into an "ouch" as the controller he held caught fire. He tossed it to the ground and the magnets sparked, slowed, and then fell away as the portal died.

Baymax and Hiro gently lowered Wasabi's vehicle, which was now out of its submarine mode, onto the ground below. As soon as the wheels touched the pavement, Wasabi jumped out of the car, got on his hands and knees, and kissed the street, just thankful to be out of void and finally on solid ground once more.

Karmi's reaction was far less dramatic. She stumbled out of the car and simply stood there, reassuring herself that there was ground underneath her feet and that she was indeed back. She looked shaken but otherwise unharmed.

Hiro couldn't rush to her to comfort her in that moment though, for as soon as he touched ground himself the earth began to tremble violently.

There was still the other portal to take care of.

Hiro rushed over to the gaping maw that hung the air. It wiggled and writhed, the electric currents that connected the magnets twisting into erratic shapes. Hiro launched one of his electromagnetic whips to latch onto one of the magnets, then another and another, until all four 'corners' of the portal were secured. He then started to pull with all his might realigning the magnet balls into their proper positions.

As he did this the portal slowly changed from its angry red to a more calm blue. Yet the wind only picked up more speed and Hiro found himself lifted off of the ground. His friends rushed to him to grab him. Together they formed a human chain holding him in place as he finished fixing the portal. Even Karmi and Srique joined in.

Finally, with great struggle, Hiro pulled the last of the magnets into place and the portal calmed down once more. The wind died and Hiro found himself falling to the ground in a heap. His friends closest to him following after, suddenly losing their balance without any wind to fight against.

Sirque took this opportunity to break away from the group and ran towards the portal. She only stopped long enough to give a little wave and yell "Au revoir" before backflipping through the shrinking window. Once through, the portal disappeared and the deactive magnets fell to the ground.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Yes, Sirque had gotten away, but everyone was safe and the deadly portals had been dealt with.

As Hiro picked himself up and dusted himself off he heard Karmi yell his name.

"Hiro!" She shouted before rushing to him and flinging her arms around his neck.

Hiro just stood there in shock. She'd just called him by his actual name, not 'Captain Cuite', not 'Big Hero Six', but Hiro .

He pulled away from her embrace and stared at her. She stared back in equal surprise as if suddenly realizing what she'd just done.

However, before either could say anything to the other, they heard sirens blare as law enforcement and other emergency vehicles began to arrive.

Everyone scattered. Varian hightailed it back to the car, dragging Wasabi along with him. Gogo and Honey Lemon frantically skated away while Fred bounced his way up the side of a building. Hiro hopped on to Baymax's back and held his hand out to Karmi. She took it and crawled onto the robot's back as well, sitting right behind Hiro.

"Hang on tight." He told her and off they flew before the police could stop them.

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

Hiro flew Karmi back to the dorms. His mind was racing. He couldn't wait to land and get some answers from her. Yet he also didn't want to face the inevitable awkwardness that would follow.

So he took his time, sweeping across the city's rooftops. He couldn't help showing off just a little bit; making sure to take a more scenic route that displayed the beautiful cityscape. Nor could he resist pulling a few trick maneuvers with Baymax.

He felt a giddy thrill whenever Karmi would gasp in awe or giggled with surprise as he took her past a towering landmark or pulled off an impressive dive. He also couldn't help but notice that every time she did this she would also grip his waist just a little tighter. Which only furthered encouraged his antics.

Finally the dizzying flight came to an end and Hiro landed them on the grass within walking distance of the dorms. Karmi slid off and made a show of smoothing out the bottom of her skirt, refusing to look at Hiro.

Hiro also dismounted and steeled himself for what was to come.

"So how long have you known?" He asked.

Karmi paused in her preening but still didn't look directly at him nor did she give an answer.

Hiro removed his helmet and continued his prodding, "about me being with Big Hero Six."

She finally looked at him unable to ignore him now that he had his helmet off, as if he had removed the last vestige of whatever fantasy she'd held in her mind. But still she wouldn't answer, only biting her bottom lip in response.

Hiro gave a deep sigh. "Did Wasabi tell you?"

"No." She said and she turned her head away from him, hugging herself with one arm.

"Then, how?"

"You told me; remember?"

Hiro did remember. Karmi had taken his photograph while he had been fighting some supervillain or other. He had agonized over it until confessing to her the truth, but she had only scoffed at him and refused to believe he was the famous superhero.

"I didn't want to admit it." She continued."I mean, I saw the photo and I know you told me outright, but I was just too embarrassed and angry to accept it. You'd seen my notebook, with my drawings, and...and well….sometimes you're just the most annoying jerk, not superhero like at all."

She stamped her foot at that, as if it was all his fault for not living up to her imagined expectations. Yet, she couldn't hold on to her anger. She sighed and continued on.

"But you also saved me from Liv, or Di, or whatever she calls herself. I could still hear you fighting with her. I just couldn't control what I was doing.. When she… when I was… like that ."

Karmi grimaced as she remembered how her former employer had turned her into a monster. A freakish science experiment, just to lure Hiro into a trap.

"Hey, no. You weren't responsible for what she did to you." Hiro placed a comforting hand onto her shoulder and Karmi finally looked him in the eye.

"I still didn't want to admit it even then, but here you are saving me yet again." She gave him an apologetic smile. "You may be a jerk sometimes but you really come through whenever I need you to."

With that she gave him another hug. He returned it this time.

"Hey no problem. What would Capitan Cutie be without Lab Lady ." He teased into her ear.

She backed away quickly as her cheeks grew beet red and she covered her face with her hands in embarrassment. She then peeked through her fingers and groaned. "Oh my gosh. You must think me soooo stupid. My fanfiction is total cringe."

"Ehh..a little cringe," He admitted, "but no, I don't think you're stupid at all. You're a great writer, and for what's it's worth, I enjoyed your essay at least, and the other research papers you've posted."

"You...you read those? I thought no one saw them. I just threw them up on the student website."

He nodded, "Yeah, you should try submitting some of them to like a science journal, or something. They're really good."

Karmi finally lowered her hands from her face and looked at him guiltily. "I promise no more fanfiction. I'll take it all down. I..I didn't mean to … I didn't.. It's not like I actually thought of you, when writing that… well I mean sort of you.. But not you , you."

Hiro had to smile and shake his head at seeing the normally so self-assured Karmi fumble with her words. He interrupted her ramble by pushing a stray strand of her bangs out of her face and tucking it behind her ear. He then immediately stopped and jerked his hand away as soon as he realized what he was doing. He feigned a cough and awkwardly rubbed the back of his head as she looked back at him in surprise.

"You don't have to stop writing fanfiction completely, just maybe a different subject." He suggested. "Like, I don't know, something not real life related. I know Honey Lemon will appreciate not being called 'Tall Girl' anymore." He joked.

Karmi rolled her eyes at that. "Then why does she wear those platform heels all the time?"

"Who knows." He shrugged and they both broke into snickers.

Once the laughter subsided Hiro spoke again. "You..you won't tell anybody else, will you? About us being Big Hero Six?"

"No, of course not!" She scoffed. "What do you think I am? A snitch?"

"No.. I didn't mean it that way." Hiro tried to protest but Karmi interrupted him.

"Hiro Hamada, you're really the most aggravating person ever. Like I'd tell anybody that I wrote fanfiction about you of all people. You know, for a genius you sure are dense sometimes."

With that she turned on her heel and started to storm off, leaving Hiro utterly confused as to what had just happened.

She'd only made it halfway across the yard though, before stopping. She turned around and flashed him a huge grin.

"I'll see you at school tomorrow." She shouted before sprinting the rest of the way to the dormitories. She paused again once she had reached the front door, smiled, and waved goodbye to a dumbstruck Hiro before leaving for good.

Hiro stood there for a few moments looking at the place where she had stood. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears and his mind tumbled with confusion. What the heck was that? Did she just flirt with him or did they have another fight? And why was his cheeks feeling flushed again?

To his embarrassment, Baymax answered that last question for him without any prompting.

"You are experiencing an increase in heart rate. A scan indicates that this is being caused by a sudden release of hormones, including testosterone…"

"Yes, Baymax! I know!" He interrupted the robot. "Let's just get home."

He climbed upon Baymax's back again, but he couldn't help but steal another glance at the door Karmi had entered through and smiled to himself as they took off.

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

Hiro finished hooking up Baymax to his charging case and the robot powered down for the night. Hiro stretched and yawned. He'd had a long day and was ready for bed himself. However, before he could crawl under the covers Varian showed up at the door carrying several presents in his arms.

"You didn't get a chance to open these." He said as he came in.

"Oh yeah, I forgot." Hiro remembered the implosion from earlier today and how his party had been interrupted. "I guess I could open them now real quick."

"Well you were in the middle of opening this one first." Varian handed him a half unwrapped gift.

"It's from Karmi." Hiro sat on the edge of his bed, tore the rest of the package open, and pulled out a phone case. It was solid white but she had drawn the image of Baymax on the front with a black marker. It was kind of cute, he thought. "I'll have to thank her later."

"And this one is from me." Varian announced with a confidante smile as he handed Hiro the next gift.

Hiro opened it to find a spray bottle full of some sort of light purple goop.

"What's this?" He asked as he held it up to the light to inspect it.

"Magnetic spray paint! I invented it myself. It's made of an adhesion of iron, and other pliable ferromagnetic metals that should, once sprayed upon any surface, adhere to the electromagnets in your suit. I call it… Hironite!"

"Why not just call it metal paint?"

"Cause Hironite is cooler."

"Yeah, I'm not ever calling it that."

Varian placed his hands upon his hips in a huff. "Fine, don't appreciate having a cool new compound named after you."

Hiro laughed. "Well I'm sure I'll appreciate it more when I'm out in the field actually using it. Thanks, man. This should come in real handy."

He went back to inspecting the strange substance but was interrupted when Varian spoke back up.

"Oh, and...there's one more gift."

Hiro looked at him confused as Varian handed him a small package with an envelope attached that read 'Happy Birthday Hiro' on the front. It was Tadashi's handwriting.

"I found it a couple of weeks ago when I was moving in. It was hidden in the bottom drawer of the dresser. I held on to it and was just going to put it with your other presents on the table."

Hiro didn't answer him, he was too busy staring at the gift in his hands. Varian went on, apologizing for not giving it to Hiro sooner.

"I didn't know who it was from until you mentioned looking for it earlier today, and by then I didn't know if telling you about it would've helped or not." He sheepishly admitted. "I figured you'd rather open it without everybody else looking on so I kept it and figured I give it to after the party. But then all this happened and.. and well…"

Varian sighed in frustration, feeling like he had once more intruded upon Hiro's grief and accidently trampled all over Tadashi's memory without meaning too.

"It's okay." Hiro assured him, but his own voice sounded far away and his eyes never left the package in his hands.

Varian stood there for a few moments more, swinging his closed hand against his leg unsure what to do.

"Well, I'll…give you some privacy then." He suddenly said and then turned to leave, but was stopped by the sound of Hiro's voice.

"I don't know if I should open it." He whispered, eyes still never leaving the gift.

Varian paused and looked at Hiro questingly. Hiro looked back up at him, finally tearing his gaze away from the present.

"If I open this, it'll be the last thing I'll ever get from him." Tears filled his eyes. "That'll be it. He won't come back. I'll never see him again, or hear from him, or … or … he's gone I know, but for a while there I could pretend like he was just on a trip or something. Like the presents and video footage he left behind, or the delayed messages that would pop up on my phone or his Twitter account were just gifts he sent from wherever he was." He swallowed hard. "But opening this makes it all real, somehow. I won't be able to just go on ignoring it like I have been."

Varian didn't know what to say to that. He could on some level understand Hiro's grief. He knew what loss felt like, but he'd never had the luxury of pretending as if things were still normal. Not with his father's corpse displayed in the middle of his laboratory constantly reminding him of what was at stake if he failed. Accepting that his dad was gone for good was just not an option to Varian's mind, and so he couldn't imagine what kind of pain Hiro must be going through in this moment. All he knew was that he hated being left alone when grieving; so he stood by patiently, hoping that just being near would be of some help.

"You open it." Hiro suddenly said and Varian was taken aback.

"What? I can't do that. It's meant for you"

"I can't do it on my own." He pleaded. "But I also can't leave it lying around unopened. It'd drive me nuts."

He held the gift up for Varian to take it. "Please, just unwrap it for me?"

Varian sighed in defeat. "Okay, but you gotta be the one to read the card."

Hiro nodded his agreement and Varian took the present from him. He unwrapped it and the lid to the box fell away. Varian peered inside confused.

"Well, what is it?" Hiro asked with baited breath.

"Well, it'll go real well with the gift I got you." Varian stifled a snicker and held the box up for Hiro to see. "It's a magnet."

It was a simple hand made device made from a large battery and a long iron nail. There was copper wire wrapped around each and attached to a simple switch made of plywood and a misshapen paperclip.

Hiro looked at it in surprise before bursting into both laughter and tears.

"That sentimental dork." He laughed through his sobs."That's the first magnet I ever made. Tadashi showed me how to build it when I was like, five. He probably meant it as a joke gift."

He broke down into more giggles and even Varian could help but chuckle.

"Sounds like a funny guy." He quietly said.

Hiro wiped his eyes as he tried to gain his composure. "Oh boy, he'd be so smug right about now. I wasn't expecting that. He got me good." He laughed again and went to open the envelope.

He pulled out a birthday day card and started to read it out loud.

"Dear Hiro, happy 15th birthday. I'm so glad that you decided to make something of yourself and to further your education. So assuming you don't do anything stupid and land your butt in jail again between now and me writing this, you should undoubtedly be finishing your first year in college. Never mind, we both know you'll do something stupid anyways, but hopefully is won't mess with your grades. You're super smart. The smartest guy I know, and I'm sure you'll make it into the program. So to commemorate the occasion I dug up your very first invention from the attic. That way you can look back and see how far you've come. I'm proud of you. From your best brother ever, Tadashi. P.S. There's probably a real gift for you as well. I just don't know what yet, as I haven't bought it. Just nag future me for it instead of getting mad, okay?"

Hiro gave one more breathless laugh which quickly turned into a sob. Oh how he missed Tadashi's stupid irritating face and dumb jokes. But mostly he wished his brother could really see him now, see how well he was doing, see how much he had accomplished, see how he had done something truly worthwhile with his life.

He cupped his hand over his mouth as he stared out into the distance while silent tears rolled down his face.

Finally he inhaled deeply and slowly exhaled as he tried to let go; let go of the tension in his body, let go of the pain, let go of the distant fading hope that one day Tadashi would suddenly appear as if he had never left. He sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. Then he turned to look back at Varian who just stood there with worry in his eyes.

Hiro couldn't help but chuckle dismissively. "It's okay. I'm okay. You don't have to look at me like that."

Varian straightened as if caught doing something wrong. "Well if you don't need me for anything else, I guess I'll go on to bed. I got a test in the morning."

He laid the gift on the bed next to Hiro and started to leave once more. Hiro chased after him.

"Hey, thanks." He said. Varian paused and turned to look at him. "Thank you for finding Tadashi's gift and thank you for helping me open it. And just...thank you for just being there. I know people mean well, but so often they just stumble over themselves trying to be comforting and it just makes you feel uncomfortable sometimes, you know. Like you feel guilty for being sad and making other people upset. But you never do that. You're just... well you're just there, you know, and I'm really glad you came to stay with us."

Varian blinked in surprise. He didn't know how to respond to that. He had always thought that Hiro was annoyed with him for living with them. He sniffled back his own tears and gave Hiro a small smile.

"Well, I'm..glad I could help."

Hiro returned the smile, also unsure how to carry on the conversation.

"Well, good night and good luck with your test in the morning." He nervously said, now feeling self conscious about his recent confession.

"Night." Varian relplied and turned around once more, but stopped at the top of the stairs, "Oh, and happy birthday, Captain Cuite." He smuggly called afterwards before dashing down the stairs as Hiro half heartedly threw a pillow at him.

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

Sirque stood nervously inside a well furnished room. The large office space was decorated in expensive decor from around the world. Ancient artifacts and historic weaponry lined the walls and display shelves. From the vaulted ceiling hung decorative tapestries and the desk at the front was placed upon a raised dais. So that it’s occupant could better look down upon its visitors.

“As you can see, the tests were not fully successful, but I’ve learned a great deal from the experiment and was able to procure some interesting stuff for your collection, no?” She smiled hopefully as she placed an ornate dagger on the desk that she had stolen from the museum. Her employer was known to enact harsh punishment for failure, but Sirque hoped that the offering would appeal to the crime lord’s expensive tastes and buy her some lenacy.

The figure behind the desk was shrouded in shadow, save for a withered and gnarled hand that impatiently drumed its fingers upon the desk.

Sirque gulped. Flanked behind her were two muscled guards who stood at attention next to the door, blocking her escape. They were smartly dressed in business suits and wore sunglasses to help hide their eyes. They looked unarmed, but Sirque knew better. She might, could out maneuver them, but not a bullet.

“So my dear patron, if you could afford me a little more time and resources I’m sure I could have a working portal for you as per your request.” She shifted her weight from foot to foot and gave a small nervous laugh when her boss failed to give an answer. “Hee, you wouldn’t want to miss out on the opportunity of being the owner of the world's first working portal would you?”

The ageded hand paused in its drumming and then gestured for one of its guards to come forward. Sirque stiffened with fear. The muscled bound goon loomed over her and she backed away quickly. He reached into his jacket and Sirque closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable. But it never came. Instead of a weapon the bodyguard pulled out a stack of money and roughly shoved it into her chest which she adjusted quickly to catch from falling.

“My master would like for you to continue with your experiments, and so long as you’re able to fulfil your lofty promises there will be more payment forthcoming.”

Sirque looked down at the pile of cash cradled in her hands in surprised delight.

“Why, yes, but of course!” She gained composure long enough to give a respectful bow towards the podium and it’s resident.”Merci, patron. I shall not disappoint.”

Smiling to herself, she counted the dollar bills as she left. Yes, her tech hadn’t worked as well as she had hoped, but it had worked; and her run in with Big Hero Six had only given her some even better ideas. The next time she met with those meddlesome heroes, she’ll be able to show them up instead.

#Hiro Hamada #BH6 the series #bh6 #varian #karmi #tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure #tangled #big hero 6

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collapsingintojupiter · 4 years

Text

How I Met Them

So I saw a post by the lovely @sanderssides-incorrectquotes talking about socially anxious Patton, and I got a few fun ideas. I’ve decided to combine this with the Chaotic Logan idea proposed by @watchoutforthefanfics, partially because I’ve been wanting to do something like that for a while and hey...why not now?

Anyways.

Characters: Patton, Logan, Roman, Remus, and Virgil.

I wrote each character with some slightly different characteristics in mind; for example Patton is anxious, Logan is impulsive and reckless, Roman is insecure, Remus is very scatterbrained and has ADHD, and Virgil struggles with anger issues.

I may write more for this idea if I get enough interest, but we’ll see.

TW: Cussing, some anxiety, there’s a somewhat heated argument, and also sympathetic Remus. Let me know if you’d like me to add anything else.

Patton nibbled at an apple, seated comfortably on a park bench while he watched the geese out on the pond. He’d always enjoyed afternoons like this, when school was out and he didn’t have to be home yet. Patton liked watching the geese. He liked seeing them swim around without a care in the world, he liked the little sparrows that flitted in the tree branches overhead, he liked hearing the birds sing and seeing the water ripple and not having to hear screaming students that made his ears ring.

A goose honked and Patton smiled at it.

“Hi,” he called to it. The goose looked at him, then turned and went back to its business. Patton watched for a little while longer before he stood up and yawned, adjusting the light pink scarf around his neck. It went nicely with his pale blue sweater, which had a kitten face on it, and lavender-colored pants that reminded him of his favorite flowers. Matching that were white shoes with cotton-candy dyed laces and pastel rainbow-striped socks--what could he say? Patton liked pretty colors, and he loved wearing them whenever he could. He liked his colorful glasses and his bright tie-dye backpack; liked putting flowers in his hair during the warmer months and wearing colorful bracelets all year-round. Colors were fun, and beautiful, and there for you even when you were tired and anxious and unable to think straight (heh).

Patton started along the little pathway by the lake, carefully adjusting the light blue beanie that sat on top of his curly brown hair. He ran his fingers along its soft surface and smiled a little to himself, letting out a quiet sigh.

Then a scream interrupted him.

Actually, it was a lot of screaming.

Then something sprinted past Patton in a whirl, launching itself into the pond without a second’s hesitation. The geese honked and scattered in a flurry of wings; Patton jumped aside with a panicked yelp and tripped, falling headfirst into the pond’s shallows. Cold water splashed over his face and his hands squelched into deep mud--he panicked when he realized he couldn’t breathe, before something grabbed his arm and wrenched him upwards.

“Logan you fucking idiot!” someone was shouting. “You knocked him over!”

“I didn’t do anything!” called back another indignant voice, accompanied by the sound of splashing. “It’s not my fault he fell!”

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” The one who had been holding Patton’s arm suddenly let go and he stumbled back, barely managing to regain his footing before he fell again. He fumbled for his glasses and realized they were no longer on his face.

“Dammit, guys it’s Patton! Logan, are his glasses there? He needs his glasses.”

Roman…? Patton wasn’t sure if he recognized the voice or not, but it sounded a bit like him.

“Are these it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well give them to him, you idiot!” A blurry figure pressed something into Patton’s shaking hands and he held the item up to his face, blinking and looking at his new surroundings through familiar drop-streaked lenses.

“Th-these are...mine,” he managed to say with some difficulty, his heart thumping nervously as he looked over the characters surrounding him and shivered.

“I’m sorry you fell; Logan’s an idiot and it’s not my fault,” chirped a punk-looking boy that looked a lot like Roman, but with hair that was twice as messy and a wild look in his eye.

“You dared me! You wanted to know how cold the water was!” Another punk, this one in blue and black, slapped the first with a wet hand. “And it’s fucking freezing, by the way.” Patton stared at the two with wide eyes, unable to form words from his mouth which had suddenly gone dry with anxiety.

“Guys, shut up.” Another boy, this one in purple, shoved his way past the first two and shoved a jacket into Patton’s hands. “Here, you can have mine. Patton, right?”

Patton managed a tiny, shy nod.

“How far away is your house?”

“Uh…It’s...it’s that way...” Patton pointed down the street with a shaky hand. “Uh...t-ten minutes?” His voice squeaked, and his cheeks turned red.

“Our place is closer.” Roman, who was wearing a red and white varsity jacket, nodded to the other one that looked like him. “It’s just down the street, you’re gonna freeze to death if you go home in that. Come with us.”

Patton wanted to protest, but all he managed was another squeak that Roman took to be an agreement as the group started walking. His knees shook but he started running after them, trying to ignore how his heart was trying to jackhammer itself out of his chest.

A hand suddenly appeared in front of him. Patton jumped and looked up, seeing the purple punk.

“I’m Virgil,” he said. He pointed at the one who looked like Roman but wasn’t Roman. “That’s Remus, the wet one’s Logan, and he’s Roman. You’re in my English class, aren’t you?” Patton looked at him and nodded.

“Yeah…”

“Do you not want the jacket?” Patton suddenly realized it was still in his arms, shaking his head before grabbing it and wrapping it around his shoulders.

“Th-thanks,” he said.

“Don’t mention it.” Patton looked over the group as they continued walking, trying to match each name to each face. Logan was the tall pale one with unruly brown hair dyed blue--he looked like a vampire, to be honest. He had a hearing aid in his left ear. Remus and Roman were both shorter with a Latino build and darker skin, though Remus had dyed a streak of silver into his wild hair while Roman kept his impeccably groomed. Virgil was also tall, and his skin was as dark as Logan’s was pale. His hair was done in long dreads, which were at the moment pulled back into a ponytail.

And then there was him. Patton. Short and skinny, with curly brown hair and tan skin and dark eyes, and a character about as frightening as a cupcake.

Virgil stayed by his side and let the others go ahead, keeping quiet company with Patton as the group followed Roman to where his house apparently was--he hadn’t realized that they lived so close, though that shouldn’t have been surprising.

“Alright, parents aren’t home. We’re good,” Remus announced loudly as he swung the door open. Roman smiled at Patton as he entered, then followed him inside.

“Here, come with me,” he said. “I have some clothes you can change into.”

“But...I...I can’t just take your stuff!” Patton protested, stopping as Roman disappeared into what was probably his room.

“You can give them back tomorrow,” was the answer. Roman reappeared a few minutes later, passing a bundle to Patton. “Sorry it’s not more your style. Bathroom’s that way.” He pointed down the hall, and before Patton knew what he was doing he was following the other boy’s directions. He went down the hall that wasn’t his, past rooms that weren’t his, and into the bathroom that wasn’t his. He closed the door, his heart pounding, and stared at his muddy, shivering reflection in the mirror. The front of his favorite sweatshirt was splattered with mud, as well as everything else. He’d be lucky if it washed out…

The clothes Roman had given him consisted of a maroon sweatshirt that was too big for Patton, sweatpants, a gray and black-striped scarf, and...a beanie? Patton washed his face and toweled off his hair, sliding the yellow hat onto his head and feeling just a bit better as the fabric settled down on his curls.

When he opened the door, Roman was leaning against the wall on the other side of the hall. He waved a little, then offered up a plastic bag for Patton to put his wet clothes in.

“If it’s alright...I also had Virgil make you some hot chocolate? I really am sorry for what happened out there…”

“It’s alright,” Patton said quietly. “Thanks.”

“It’s the least I can do. You look cute as hell in that sweater, by the way.”

“Huh?” Patton felt his cheeks blush and he looked down at himself--the colors were all wrong and they didn’t fit right at all as far as he was concerned, but more than that…

Was Roman flirting with him?

“Yeah! You look nice in red.” Roman smiled at him again as they came into the living room, where the other boy flopped onto the couch next to Remus and Logan--Logan, who’d already been banished to the floor as he was still wet and didn’t seem to have any intention of changing.

“Hey,” Remus said. Patton blinked at him.

“Uh, hey.”

“We go to the same school don’t we?”

“Remus, you’re in classes with him!” Logan turned around and smacked the other boy, who made a face of surprise.

“Really? Must’ve forgotten…” Patton wasn’t so sure that was a bad thing.

“Here.” Patton turned as Virgil entered the living room, passing a mug to him. “Hot chocolate?”

“Um, thanks.” Patton tentatively accepted the offering, looking around the room before he sat down on the edge of an empty sofa. “So, um...what were you guys doing out there?” he asked. “I’ve never seen you guys at the park before, and I go there every day.” Roman chuckled at that, Virgil rolled his eyes, and Logan and Remus exchanged amused looks.

“Well,” Remus started. “You see, we were originally going to try and tie two ducks together…”

“...But we couldn’t find anything to catch them with, and we’d already tried rushin’ ‘em, so we got bored. And then Remus wondered how cold the water was.” Logan shrugged. “It’s cold, by the way, in case you were wondering.” Patton smiled the tiniest bit at that.

“Y-Yeah, I noticed.” Remus barked a laugh that made him jump, and Logan smacked him again.

Patton ended up hanging out with the odd group for a little while, drinking hot chocolate and listening while the others laughed and joked and talked about odd things. Once he’d finished Roman practically jumped out of his seat to take the cup for him, and though Patton felt bad about letting the other boy take it for him he didn’t say anything. Roman ran it to the kitchen, and when he came back the others were all standing up. Patton blinked at them in confusion, but took Virgil’s hand when he offered it.

“Mind if we escort you back to your place?” he asked.

“You, you don’t have to if you don’t--”

“That wasn’t the question,” the purple punk answered, and smiled. “Would you like us to accompany you, Patton? We’d be honored to walk you home.”

He had to admit, it was a nice offer. One he’d never gotten before from anybody; people didn’t really just ask to hang out with him. And Patton couldn’t quite believe it, but these odd characters had already managed to grow on him. They were nothing like the people Patton had met before in school, and their strangeness somehow only made him like them more. He glanced awkwardly around the group, then nodded.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” He automatically reached up to touch his beanie, then grinned a little and nodded to Roman as he held the door open for him. The group followed him outside, Logan shivering but stubbornly refusing to accept the coat Roman offered him.

“Wonder how long it takes to get hypothermia while wet in this weather,” Remus said aloud. Logan paused, then his eyes got wide and he grinned maniacally.

“Why don’t we find--”

“Absolutely you will not,” Virgil cut in, throwing a glare at the green punk. “Christ, I am not calling the hospital again this month.” Logan made a face at him, and he and Remus exchanged annoyed looks before shrugging and continuing on their way. Virgil let out a long sigh, then glanced at Patton.

“In case you're wondering, yes I have had to call the hospital already this month,” he said. “And no, you can’t ask about it.” Patton blinked at him.

“Okay,” he said.

“You know, he’s alright,” Remus said, pointing at Patton. “I like him.”

“It’s your fault he ended up in that pond,” Roman glared at his twin, who glared back.

“That was Logan’s fault, don’t blame me for what he did!”

“Oh, because he’s definitely got his impulse control under control!”

“Hey!” Logan shouted. “You both--”

“--Guys, guys it’s okay!” Patton automatically stepped between the three, his heart pounding as he held his hands up. “Please...please don’t fight.” The punks and fashionable boy looked between each other, then suddenly seemed to calm down, nodding to each other.

“Sorry,” Remus offered. “Didn’t want to upset you.”

“I apologize as well,” Logan added, and Roman nodded.

“It’s alright,” Patton said, then added, “thanks for listening.”

“Course.”

The group fell silent as they continued; even Logan and Remus managed to behave until they were on the steps to Patton’s house. He looked back at them and smiled, taking his bag of wet clothes back from Roman as he went to the door.

“Thanks for...for the fun time,” he said, and then the door was closed and they were gone.

#sanders sides #fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #patton sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #duke sanders #sympathetic remus #logan sanders #virgil sanders

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