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ilikemesometaetaes · 3 years

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Don’t Hold Your Breath ~ jjk

Chapter Five (M)

•••> Author: @ilikemesometaetaes

•••> Summary: As the CEO of an international government security company, you have the world at your fingertips. Living life lavishly and extravagantly has become the norm. Behind closed doors, however, you host a past that renders you lonely and, quite frankly, miserable. It’s only a matter of time before your past comes back to bite you right in the ass.

•••> Pairing(s): Jungkook/Reader, Taehyung/Reader (slight)

•••> Inspo: This fic is inspired by the song “SAVAGE ANTHEM” by PARTYNEXTDOOR. Thank you to @dariangarcia, @btssmutgalore, and @junghoseokit for supporting my work. To my mamas, Kaitlin, Adora, Lauren, Lanie, Lu, and Sher.

•••> Word Count: 6.54k

•••> Rating: 18+

•••> Warnings: angst, infidelity, oral (m receiving), heartbreak, cursing, pining, depression, breakup, mention(s) of therapy/counseling, arguing, drug use, alcohol use | Warnings are written specifically to chapter.

Taglist: @dariangarcia @apurpledheart @itsgottabeyoo-ngs @hytibm @namjinsbaby @ggukkieland

If you’d like to be added to the taglist, say so in a comment to this chapter or the DHYB Main Page, or send me an ask!

NAVIGATION: Chapter Four (M) <- | -> Chapter Six (M) -> Mini-Masterlist -> Series Masterlist

•••> Official Playlist

~#~

“Is it something we discussed now? The truth got you in disgust now, ‘cause I’d rather we just fuck now.”

THEN.

Sitting at your desk at work never felt so somber as you remembered how it all changed. The chain of events that led up to your fight with him the previous night were too hard to ignore anymore.

You remember fighting for him- for the both of you.

The tears flooded your eyes and, thankfully, blurred your vision from the scene before you.

Jungkook sat on a couch placed in the corner of the club, completely inebriated and high out of his mind. But that’s not what hurt you.

What completely ripped your heart from your chest was the woman draped across his exposed lap with her hair held in one hand while she used the other to wrap around the part of his dick that she couldn’t reach whilst she closed her lips over it.

Blinking your tears from your eyes on instinct allowed you to see that another set of eyes was looking at you. And they weren’t Jungkook’s.

Taehyung’s scowl, paired with furrowed eyebrows and sad eyes, was another image from that night you couldn’t get out of your head. There was no shock nor surprise on his face- he was expecting you. Taehyung knew that you would see. He didn’t try to deter you from coming to the club and he didn’t send any warning texts. He was the one who invited you in the first place.

The scene was an unforgettable one.

You should have taken Taehyung’s word for it from the start. He had given you hints that you simply couldn’t bother yourself to pay attention to.

While you possessed the knowledge and evidence that Jungkook cheated on you that night, you couldn’t bring yourself to properly address it. Each time you got around to speaking with him about it, you ended up brushing it off for another time.

Finding an excuse for yourself to defend him was easy.

The drugs and alcohol were the problem. You saw it yourself that night. He was in a completely different world when you saw him doing the deed. His eyes were glazed out with beautiful lips agape in complete, drug-induced ecstasy, unknowing of what he was doing. There was no way he was aware of what was actually happening or even what day it was.

But then came the day that it got so bad that you asked him to go get help. You were willing to forgive his negligence if he was willing to get it fixed.

It was the cause of your final fight.

“I’m not going to fucking rehab, Y/N.” He laughed spitefully. “There is nothing wrong with me. I’m a fucking rockstar. This is what rockstars do.”

“They also cheat on their girlfriends?” You sarcastically asked.

Jungkook chuckled darkly while looking at the floor. After a moment, he met your eyes in a cold gaze before he opened his mouth.

“Rockstars don’t have girlfriends.”

The weight of the statement pressured heavily on you in realization of what he was implying, pushing all of the air from your lungs. You were struck silent with an invisible smack offered by his words. No sound could escape your mouth as you stared back at him in a silent question: did it mean what you thought it meant?

“Yeah.” Was all he said in the deafening silence to answer your unspoken query, looking at the ground awkwardly. He was quick to add another few words to finally hit the nail on the coffin. “But if you still want to fuck, I’m down.”

“But- but I…” Your voice trembled weakly, feeling your eyes ache with incoming tears, but you fought them with every ounce of will that you had as your abhorrence was built up by his last words. The ground was swallowing you up and you were trying to claw your way free. “I waited for you to get better. You told me things would get better once you took off.”

“Don’t hold your breath, Y/N.” He laughed heartily.

Your heart was no longer beating. Not in your mind, anyway.

You felt as the life was torn from your lungs with the most simple and practical words; your world taken from you and all air seeming too thick to inhale.

Awfully, you couldn’t seem to listen to his words this time. You didn’t want to. Breathing seemed much too difficult as you felt him snatch the light from your life with one swipe.

There was no chance that you would let him watch you cry- no way he was going to watch the pain he delivered onto you take physical effect. You were disappointed and neglected- a pawn in the game he played. You were sick of playing now.

Instead, you turned around, grabbed your purse off of the kitchen table-

And left.

Sitting at your desk with all of the sadness that Jeon Jungkook brought into your life, you decided that it was finally time to leave. You needed to leave Korea. You needed to move on to bigger and better things.

Your hand was reaching for your phone before you could stop yourself from doubling back. It’s about time.

Googling for a moving company- any moving company- only took you a few seconds and you pressed the call button with a new sense of conviction.

“Good afternoon! Thank you for calling Team Wang’s Moving Company! What can I assist you with today?”

Making sure your voice was level and controlled, you spoke, “I’d like to schedule a move of items from a storage unit here in Korea to another country. Am I able to do that?”

“Of course, ma’am! We can get started on preparations for that right away! What was the location that you were referencing? We are limited on the countries we can ship to due to certain regulations.”

Without any further hesitation or pondering over the past, you settled on it.

“Italy.”

Jungkook

He sat in his room for a while with an empty lyric journal, letting the high slowly fade from his body as regret began pumping through his veins. Jungkook had put up the act for Taehyung, but after he saw his brother angrily storm out the door and he was left alone to the ever familiar havoc in his mind, the fight to maintain his mask was easily lost.

What the fuck did he do?

Seeing you cry was common for him; Jungkook had made you cry too many times to count, but that didn’t take away from the way it ripped apart the sinew in his chest every time he saw that look in your eyes as tears streamed down your cheeks.

He managed to convince himself of the belief that it was impossible for you to care that much anymore. You just couldn’t. Not when he had fucked up the first time. He had broken your trust and he didn’t trust himself enough to try and earn yours back, fearing that he would just fuck you up past recovery- like himself.

Jungkook was beyond rejuvenation and beyond any form of succor. Nothing could help him silence his demons except the cold and dark embrace of death. Even now, sitting in silence in his bedroom to let the remorse for you distract him from the torment of the empty organ beating in his chest, he felt them begin to criticize him.

Jungkook’s parents and brother died young, victims of a drunken asshole who decided that it was a good idea to get behind the wheel to try and get home to his girlfriend. What a fucking prick.

For some reason, Jungkook decided that it would be a good idea to stay home and worry about the girl that he liked at school, making little sketches to slip into her lunchbox once lunch came around.

Of all days he could have stayed home, it just had to be that one. He should have gone to the grocery store with them. He should have been in that car with them.

The voices in his head began three weeks after the funeral- when Jungkook reached the ripe age of twelve. Constantly battering him down, twisting his heart, and suffocating his head, he recognized that it was his own voice and his own psyche attacking the sanctity of his soul after he watched the three coffins sink into the cold ground.

It just had to rain that day, water filling the nice dress shoes his father bought for him a few months prior as mud covered the black leather.

He reached adulthood much too fast. Even under the care of his parents’ friends, he was forced by his own will to become independent. They tried to shower him with the same love and support that his family had, but it was no use- Jungkook was alone. No one could fill that gap in his heart once it was made empty.

He’ll admit, he was a bit more dramatic back then.

He was approaching his seventeenth birthday when he smoked for the first time, turning it into a habit by the time he graduated high school. He had been dragged out to an end-of-the-year school gathering by Taehyung, a senior who was much too silent like himself- who understood that Jungkook preferred the quiet due to the mayhem in his mind. They had formed a tranquil and mostly unspoken bond over the months that they studied together.

“Is it safe?” Jungkook muttered while looking at his older companion of the silence curiously.

“I’ve done it a few times and I was fine. Just take it slow at first. Try two hits and then wait like twenty or thirty minutes.” Taehyung’s contralto voice was somehow comforting to Jungkook, a beacon in the chaos that was the kickback they were currently separating themselves from. “If you don’t want to, that’s cool. You don’t have to.”

“Nah,” Jungkook’s desire to break out of his shell was a little spurred by Taehyung who seemed to aid him in the most odd yet unobtrusive way. “I’ll try it. Might be cool.”

The only two at the campfire while the rest of their year mates drank and danced to music in the house, Jungkook and Taehyung shared their first high together.

Then, the voices stopped.

Jungkook was shaken to his core, gripping the arms of the camping chair he sat in until his fingers ached and his knuckles turned white. For the first time in six years, his head was blanketed in silence.

Slightly panicked at the new sensation, he turned to Taehyung for help, only to find that his friend was sitting back with his head craned up, gazing intently at the stars. Jungkook followed his stare and struggled to see them past the glow of the flames in front of him, only to grow enraptured by the gorgeous twinkling of each small dot in the midnight sky once his eyes adjusted. Strangely, he was hit by a sudden burst of inspiration.

“I could write a song right now.” Jungkook told the sky confidently.

“You write?” He saw Taehyung turn to look at him out of the corner of his eye. Meeting his friend’s observance, he let a smile lazily grace his face for once as he replied.

“I do occasionally. I always wanted to be a singer when I was younger.”

“Me too.” Taehyung chuckled with a sense of wistfulness, fixing his stare on the small inferno in the fire pit. “Well, I wanted to be a bassist really bad. Maybe sing a little.”

Overcome with the emotions of maybe not being totally alone, Jungkook’s inner sageness spewed from his mouth without falter, wholly due to the graceful and relaxed feeling that he received from the high.

“We’re still young.” He reasoned. “We can still do it.”

“I’ll be studying music in university after my military service is over. My most realistic dream now is to become a studio bassist for some record company.” Taehyung laid his head back again, closing his eyes.

“Hey,” Jungkook called for his friends attention and the older boy looked at him with slightly bloodshot eyes. “We can do something with this if we really want to. I’ll follow you to university. Never really had a solid plan for where I wanted to go to anyway.” Jungkook stuck his hand out in a silent offer, hoping that his proposition wouldn’t be crushed.

Taehyung smiled mellowly, taking his younger friend’s hand with his in a handshake. “Sounds like a plan, my friend.”

After Taehyung graduated and enlisted, Jungkook completed his senior year with a new hobby- well, two new hobbies: writing and smoking.

With the impending date of his enlistment, he knew that he had to give it up as he was going to get drug tested. For two years, he kept up with himself without the help of the self-administered psychoactive drug therapy.

Service was a good distraction from the voices. Having things to do to keep him busy and writing in any free time he had, he was kept delightfully aloof from the dark corners of his mind. It also helped that he enlisted into the same garrison that Taehyung was assigned to.

Taehyung welcomed Jungkook into university with open arms. Now, at the age of twenty, Jungkook was a seasoned and trained man. The voices still loomed over him, but they were pushed to the back of his mind as he learned to deal with the emptiness.

He had highs to suppress his demons, he had his songs to communicate himself to others, and he had Taehyung.

Although it wasn’t nearly enough to fill his empty glass, it was empty no longer.

Jungkook lay in his bed as he watched the violet sky turn midnight blue, the already-set sun pulling the rest of its light away from his side of the earth.

Naked and vulnerable under the scrutiny of the world, he lay in the sheets with his head turned toward the window, presenting the sorrow brimming in his eyes right back to the invisible gaze of the universe. With no form of judgement in response to him, he was left to ponder over the things he had done.

Because even now, with a slight high from the drugs, he realized that he could still hear them- the whispers, murmurs, and dronings of impugnment continued to poison his mind. He found it funny that he was always pressing the voices away, yet whenever confronted by the menace that was his emotions, they were his safety blanket.

Pulling the sheets to his body while he curled into himself, Jungkook realized that he felt completely bare and exposed without the voices.

He’d keep them back to the point of a whisper so that he could call on them to protect him with a roaring intensity during bad times. There was never a time that he wasn’t manually suppressing them if he wasn’t high anymore.

With a shaken mind, he realized the only true way they were silent without true effort now. The drugs had stopped suppressing them a long time ago. There was no way he was able to have silence unless he was actually enforcing the lack of sound onto himself.

Not unless he was with you.

You provided light and hope and everything good to him, You gave him the things that were snatched away from him all those years ago- the things that he forced himself to live without. Unlike Taehyung, who gave him the sense of having a brother again, you gave him the love of everyone he lost. You acted like a sibling, gave him the comfort like a mother, and gave him the stern challenge and teachings of a father- if that made any sense.

Without you, he felt like his family; Jungkook felt lost and alone. Even as an up-and-coming rockstar with thousands of fans scrambling to get to know him, he felt like he was the last man on the planet who kept himself back while everyone else moved on to a better world.

The night at the club still haunted him, the truth of what happened chilling him to the bone- even if he didn’t exactly remember any of it.

Shit. Maybe he needed help after all.

NOW.

Sitting with his back to the door, staring at the night of New York City, Jungkook did not hear Namjoon enter the room with both of his bodyguards in tow.

“We’re staying another few days.” His older brother informed him, breaking him from his trance-like gaze.

“Goody.” Jungkook sighed, setting his empty glass down on the table in front of him. With a huff, he stood and stretched. Namjoon uttered a quick ‘give us a second’ to his men before the shuffling of feet and the door closing behind him signaled the beginning of a serious conversation.

“You know she’s still here, right? It’s not too late to go and talk to her.” Jungkook could feel the man’s eyes on his back, pity dousing the information that Jungkook was already aware of.

But Jungkook didn’t need Namjoon’s pity. It was enough that Namjoon saw his feelings on paper. Nothing more needed to be shared.

Still, he respected his brother’s wisdom and he remembered the words of his counselor. ‘Accept the silence. Then, do the talking from the inside. The only one truly speaking, inside and out loud, is you.’

“I know. I already spoke to her. Some things…” Jungkook’s volume died down for a moment, unsure of how to put it, as he turned his head to look at his brother in a silent plea for assistance. “…happened the other night. She came and saw me again today,”

“-I didn’t know what to do and I acted like a dickhead.” He looked back down and chuckled spitefully to himself, wisps of a shadow materializing back into the depths of his mind once he stopped speaking.

Namjoon exhaled after not realizing that he was holding his breath following his own comment. Carefully, he approached Jungkook so as to not trigger him into closing himself off. Despite having received professional assistance and counseling for two years, Jungkook was still as fragile as fine china.

The older man placed a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder before slightly forcing Jungkook to face him.

“Tell me, Jungkook,” Namjoon looked into his eyes, prying into the windows of his soul, to capture a glimpse of the storm clouds brewing in his brother’s brown orbs. “Do you still love her?”

Jungkook didn’t know how to answer at first.

The voices began permeating Jungkook’s mind ever so slowly as an automatic reaction to being emotionally jabbed. He didn’t like addressing his feelings; the voices were all he could fall back on when he felt threatened, deafening volume drowning out the possibility for anything to reach into him too deep. They gave him the things- the bad things- he needed to say in order to protect himself.

As he sifted through the past two years, however, looking back on the help he had received and the exercises he went through that allowed him to no longer fear the natural silence- to embrace it without the drugs- he knew that no one was threatening him and no one was going to hurt him. Jungkook was asked if he still loved you and he couldn’t have the negativity surrounding him if he was going to answer that question, so he moved his trepidation out of the way to see what was left for you.

Behind it all- the fear, meaningless women, music, loss- lay a withering yet ever-present being, its wings tattered and flayed at the edges. With its first glances of light, with no smog to block it, it beat its tiny appendages with potential and came to life upon Jungkook’s realization of what it was.

His arrant and perennial love for you.

Jungkook briefly remembered the meadow- your meadow- and all of the tiny butterflies that were living out their lives in the beauty of the world that day. A butterfly adorned with blue and black splotches of color on its wings had managed to land on your head for a split second when he adjusted your hair. The particular memory and the events that followed on that day relocated as the tiny butterfly inside his mind fluttered upwards.

Jungkook’s heart soared with newfound beginnings- a second chance.

“I do, hyung. I do.” He whispered, voice wavering under the force of the emotions that came bubbling up from his chest. Tears filled his eyes, prompting his older brother to pull him into an embrace.

Jungkook’s body racked with cries at the feeling of comfort and warmth, unable to stop himself from feeling the raw emotions he had delayed for too long. Instead of needing to push the darkness out of the way, it came pouring out of him in radiating waves much too intense for him to handle alone.

“Hyung! I love her! I love her!” He chanted into his brother’s shoulder. “I hurt her! She was all mine and I tossed her away!”

Namjoon, although shocked by the psychological state and emotional outburst of his usually stoic bandmate, held him with care and waited until his brother’s breathing calmed before suggesting his next move. “Then go and get her, Kook.”

“She’s-” Jungkook had to swallow to wet his dry throat. “She’s with Taehyung right now.”

“Then wait until morning. From what Jin-hyung said, she’ll be here until the end of the week.”

So, wait is what Jungkook did.

He woke up at eight the next morning and called your personal assistant, finding his number easily on your company’s preliminary email to everyone in his organization for the whole UN ordeal. After two rings, the man answered.

“Halo! This is Brian Morena, representative and PA to Ms. Y/N Y/L/N. Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?”

“Jeon Jungkook.” Jungkook stated his name lowly and unsurely, cautious as to how to approach asking him about your schedule.

“Ah, Mr. Jeon! It is a pleasure to speak with you! I’ll just verify your phone number really quick. It will only take a moment.” The line went silent for a few seconds and Jungkook waited on the edge of his bed with a bouncing knee and a fingernail between his teeth. After a few more seconds, the man was back on the phone. “You’re good! What can I do for you today?”

“I was just wondering if I could possibly get my hands on Ms. Y/N’s schedule for the day.” Jungkook heard how weird the request sounded the moment it flew from his lips. Quickly, he came up with a lie to soothe the request with reasoning. “She left her jacket in the elevator and I wish to return it to her- personally.”

Jungkook added the last part, knowing that the man would just tell him to give it to an employee of your own building, and Jungkook couldn’t have that. He wanted- no, needed- to see you.

“I see.” Brian responded thoughtfully. “Well, in that case, I’m unable to disclose her whereabouts due to security reasons.” Jungkook’s heart dropped a little at the notion of being unable to speak with you while his heart was still flying open. Then, Brian spoke again.

“But if she is in her hotel during her free time, she will be in her penthouse and I will assign you a temporary elevator key so that you can get to her door. It won’t unlock the door, but it will get you in front of it. Does that sound alright, Mr. Jeon?”

Jungkook smiled triumphantly. “Yes, that sounds lovely. Thank you, Brian.”

“It’s no problem, sir! Though, I do suggest you move quickly because she only has the next two and a half hours before she has her first scheduled event of the day. Your key will be ready for you in the next ten minutes. Have to wait until your status change goes through properly.” Brian was busy clacking away at his keyboard while he spoke, but Jungkook couldn’t be more overjoyed that he had succeeded in his plan thus far.

Things will work out. I’ll get her back. However much and however long it takes.

He dressed casually and indiscriminately with a mask over his face so as to not draw attention. After searching for it on google and exiting the hotel onto the street, he hailed a cab to take him to the first flower shop he could find to order you a bouquet of white tulips- obviously, he had to google that too. Jungkook had no idea what the best flower for apologies and hopes of new beginnings was. He was no botanical genius and that was a fact.

Once he had the flowers in his hand after a grueling wait, he stopped by the closest coffee shop to buy your favorite coffee- with two creams and three sugars if he remembered correctly. Despite the amount of time the florist had wasted, he made his way back to the hotel on foot so that he could properly practice what he was going to say to you. If he was going to make it right, he needed all the practice he could get.

Take off the mask. Don’t be a dick. Take off the mask. Don’t be a dick.

Jungkook let the incantations fill his head so that the haze of negativity didn’t have a chance to snap back into place over his single, delicate emotion. He was vulnerable and fighting the mental pressure with everything he had so that he could bare himself long enough to at least get back on good terms with you.

By the time he was back in front of your hotel building, it was a quarter to ten and he was left cursing the florist for taking so long. He stood awkwardly on the pavement, allowing himself a few breaths before he decided to enter the glass doors. Jungkook knew that he would be attracting attention by standing in front for so long, yet he couldn’t help but need a moment to send a prayer to whichever god was watching over him.

Closing his eyes, he craned his head up and took one last inhale whilst sending a silent plea for things to work out. To see you smiling and happy again. To hold you in his arms and hear you silence every one of his demons once and for all.

What he didn’t expect was one of his prayers to be promptly answered.

As he opened his eyes to look at the late morning sky, he caught sight of you immediately, sitting on the restaurant balcony- laughing and smiling. But you weren’t laughing and smiling to yourself.

You were giving your joy and happiness to Taehyung whose hand was covering yours above the table, grinning endearingly and adoringly back at you.

Jungkook’s hands grew numb, warranting the flowers and coffee to slip from his grasp onto the sidewalk, as he drowned in smog once again.

NOW.

You

“He never wanted you to leave.”

You sat, dumbfounded for a moment, as Taehyung said the words. You didn’t let the shock last for long, knowing that what he said must have been a lie.

“There’s no way.” You chuckled scornfully. “He told me himself, Taehyung. He didn’t want me anymore.”

“Y/N, take it from me. I loved you. I wanted to see you happy.” He grimaced briefly, most likely from the personal statement, while turning his eyes down to place his gaze on his empty plate in front of him. “But I knew that he made you happy even though he made you sad. He made you happy in a way that I never could. And he wanted to see you that way- happy.”

“I’m sorry, Tae. I- I should’ve-” Your heart ached for a moment as you tried to find the words to say, wishing for the first time that you had been in love with him instead.

“Don’t apologize, Y/N. You can’t force feelings like that and I sure as hell was not going to force you into anything that you didn’t want.”

A question burned behind your eyes, tugging your heart to remember the past.

“Then why did you let me see?” Your eyes turned cold. The drop in your tone nor the change of your mood were directed at him, but they were caused by him nonetheless.

“Because I was young and thought you had a chance to find that happiness elsewhere.” He sighed, taking the opportunity to place his hand over yours on the table while his words distracted you. “And for that, I’m sincerely sorry. I know that friends are supposed to help each other out, but that was a situation that was out of my hands and not mine to handle or get involved in.”

“I’m not blaming you for my relationship issues. I never did and I never will. So don’t apologize.” You looked down at the way his hand covered yours. “I just wanted to know.”

Taehyung pat your hand in an attempt for you to look at him again. When you did, he continued his sentiment.

“Jungkook didn’t want you to leave at all. He has this… thing. It’s not really my place to say anything, but I’ve been friends with him for years and he’s had it a bit rough. I know that he’s a dick- believe me, I know-“ You quirked an eyebrow at his expression. “But he’s got something he keeps hidden behind that thick skull of his that you should probably know about.”

“Why can’t you just tell me?” You asked, curious as to what he could be alluding to.

“Because you guys still need to talk. He was never good at talking to you about things.”

“I’m never fucking talking to him ever again.” You deadpanned.

“Please do it for me, Y/N.” His eyes begged with his plea, pulling you in.

“Oh? And why should I do it for you, hm?” You joked with him to steer the conversation away from the heavy subject, a small smile playing upon your lips. “I think you were the one apologizing to me.”

“Well, all I can say is that I’m sorry. I was supposed to be there for you- when you needed a shoulder to cry on and when you needed someone to binge watch TV shows with.” He smiled with his attempted joke that you couldn’t help but laugh at.

“You’re the best TV show buddy.” You giggled and looked down at your joined hands again, rotating your own so that you could hold his. To be friends with him after all this time… is it possible?

“Oh, I know I am!” He laughed loudly again, prompting you to quickly look around the restaurant area and the street below you, mild panic setting in once more. You tilted your head in confusion and pity at the sight of a few white flowers lying on the pavement next to a splattered drink.

“Poor flowers.” You muttered to yourself. “They’re so pretty.”

You watched Taehyung turn to look where you were staring from the corner of your eye. “Oh yeah. Would you look at that? Such a waste.”

Instead of taking any more time, you stood and straightened your blazer to remove the wrinkles. “We should probably get out of here. I have a security meeting in a little while.”

“How long is a little while?” Taehyung asked as he stood and pressed his hands to his own coat. You made eye contact with Jay who was already stood and ready to go, nodding to him as you answered Taehyung’s question.

“About an hour and a half. Why?”

“Damn. That’s not enough time. Maybe tonight then?” He tapped his chin thoughtfully, lips forming into a thin line.

“Enough time for what? What’s happening?” You grabbed his elbow when he began walking away without answering your question.

“What time are you going to be done for the day?” He asked.

“Taehyung,” You warned lowly. “What’s going on? I won’t tell you unless you give me something to work with here.”

“Oh, nothing.” He smiled and removed your grasp from his arm. “I’ll just ask Brian again. I’m sure he’ll be upset if you dodge your schedule.”

“Brian?” You watched as he walked away through the tables while hooking his mask back onto his ears. You wanted to get to the bottom of the situation fast- so you quickly followed him. “You’ve been speaking with him?”

“Of course I have! Isn’t that right, Jay?” Taehyung turned to the man in question.

“Of course, Mr. Kim. You’ve been very in touch with the staff.” Your bodyguard, once he joined you and Taehyung walking together, let a small, smug grin pull at the corners of his mouth. What a traitor. A slight sense of mock-betrayal filled you.

“What?” You asked. “Why?”

“For research purposes.” Taehyung deadpanned, grabbing your hand in the process. “Now come on. Let’s get out of here.”

“I have to go back to my room and get ready for my meetings.” You said quickly. Taehyung only chuckled lowly.

“Alright. Then let’s go!” He tugged you towards the exit. “I’ll take you to your door.”

You had no option but to stumble behind him while you stressfully surveyed the area, careful of onlookers.

~∞~

“YOU ALMOST LOST IT?” Kate’s voice was shrill and slightly distorted as it burst through the speakers of your phone at an ear-splitting volume.

“I’m sorry!” You briskly apologized. “It wasn’t my fault, I swear!”

“I spent weeks- weeks!- planning and making that jacket for you! I-” She bleated weakly before her tone leveled to nonchalance. “Wow. So this is what being chopped liver feels like.”

“Kate! You are not chopped liver, I swear.” You rushed the statement as you sat back in your office chair, glad to have a conversation that wasn’t work-related after a long and grueling day.

Your friend only grumbled in response. “It sure feels like it.”

“Well, you aren’t. I swear on my job.” You said.

“Oh wow. Holy shit. Okay, yeah that means a lot.” She stuttered playfully. “But something tells me you didn’t call me just to tell me you almost lost one of my most prized works of art- which, by the way, is my best seller. So, what is it?”

“I- uh…” You didn’t know how to word it. You had spent the entire work day using security updates and board meetings as a distraction from the open debate in your head, so now that your day was over and you had nothing left to do, the thoughts came back. It’s why you called Kate; you needed a third opinion.

If what Taehyung said about Jungkook was actually true, then maybe you should talk to him so that you could hear his side of the story. The bad bitch part of you told you to fuck off and forget about him, but you couldn’t help the softer and more curious side of yourself that begged to hear him out.

Realizing you had gone silent for a moment too long, you blurted out something random. “I’d like for you to design a hat for me.” A hat? Really? That was the best you could come up with? At least ask for some pants or something.

“Bullshit,” She chuckled in response. “But I’ll take that until you’re ready to tell me what’s actually going on.”

You heard her rustling some paper in preparation to take down design ideas, triggering panic to rise within you. You didn’t want her to put in work for an imaginary hat that you really had no desire of having.

“Hypothetically!” You shouted before she could get into it.

“Okay…” You heard the hesitation in her voice, clearly weirded out by your outburst. “Hypothetically what?”

“Let’s say, hypothetically, that you had an old flame who broke your heart and acted like a dick years ago, but you just recently learned that there were, maybe- I don’t know- some other things going on that made him act that way. Would you want to talk to him about it?”

“Hell no.” Kate laughed. “Just because you’re going through some stuff doesn’t mean you can act like a dick to other people. There’s no excuse for being a shitty person.”

“That’s what I thought.” You replied strongly. In your head, however, the war within you was brewing, weakening your composure.

“You’re not one to usually think about things like this.” Kate added. “What’s going on with you?”

“Just dealing with some stuff from the past. Nothing huge.” You didn’t want to overshare and Kate understood, knowing that she could never ask you to tell her about your past. She would wait until you were the one sharing it with her.

“Just let me know if you want me to come over there. I could definitely use some quality time with a quiet person for once. These idiots are so loud.”

You laughed in response. “I will. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you. We can watch movies or something and eat pizza and drink wine.”

“Oh my. That sounds like the perfect date!” She squealed. Her giddiness was infectious, spreading a soft smile across your lips.

“Won’t Brian get jealous?” You jab at her playfully.

“Not at all. He’ll probably end up attached to his video games anyway.” Kate snorted. “Shit! Speaking of! I need to call him! I’ll talk to you later?”

“Of course. Talk to you later.” You sat up in your chair.

“Bye!” She chirped.

As you sat alone in your office, building lights dark and the lights from the city the only form of illumination in the room through the window, you let your friends’ words rifle through your head.

On one hand, Kate catered to your stone-cold side, encouraging you to forget all about Jungkook and move on. Despite not knowing the situation and understanding all of its facets, her opinion was unbiased.

Taehyung, on the other hand, encouraged you to speak with Jungkook. He was aware of both sides of the story and understood what you and Jungkook- whatever the hell it was- were going through. He supported the side of you that was eager to understand and desperate to love again.

The decision was, ultimately, yours to make. What were you going to do?

The thoughts in your mind weighed heavy on your heart while you prepared to leave. You stood, packed your brief case, and made your way out of your office and onto the sidewalk to hail your driver so that you could go back to your hotel.

You couldn’t worry about it for long, though, because your phone vibrated three separate times as three notifications lit up your screen on your way back. Taehyung texted you.

Kim Taehyung (BTS)

Wear thick socks.

And a coat.

With gloves.

You stared at your phone in confusion, trying to figure out what he was getting at. Just what in the world was this boy planning?

~#~

Sorry this took so long, everyone! Please remember to like/reblog and comment if you want. I’d like to know what you guys think!

Don’t forget to check out the Series Masterlist if you want to read the oneshots that I have published.

130 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Galactica, Chapter 5 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Since we’re on a roll and impatient as fuck, we decided to up our posting rate! Hope you enjoy! Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Violet gave Trixie a heads-up about Fame’s dislike of the new collection, and moved into her new apartment--where she found some very welcoming neighbors.

This Chapter: All hands on deck as Fame demands a complete reconceptualization of their Spring collection.

***

Fame swept into the office on Monday, all business, barely looking Violet in the eye as she rattled off a waterfall of orders.

Fame pulled off her coat and dropped it, nearly letting it fall on the floor before Violet dove forward to catch it.

“Have you taken care of the messages I left you over the weekend?”

Fame seemed almost frantic, her energy all over the place.

“I’m almost done Miss,” Violet folded her coat over her arm, holding out her hand for Fame’s bag. “I just need to confirm wit-”

“Good.” Fame hung her bag on Violet’s wrist, the weight almost toppling Violet over if it hadn’t been for her hours at the gym. “Have you ordered the new fabrics I talked about?”

Violet nodded. “They are on their wa-”

“And what about my new assistant?”

“Yes-” Violet reached for her desk, a stack of resumes already printed out. “I’m starting the pre-interviews tomorrow-”

“Wonderful.” Fame completely ignored Violet and the papers she was holding out, instead walking towards her office. Violet quickly disposed of Fame’s coat and bag, putting both down on her desk so she could grab Fame’s coffee and the letters for the day before she followed her.

“Remember, only perfection is accepted,” Fame instructed, settling down at her desk.

“Yes, Miss.” Violet handed her the coffee, which Fame took a single sip of before she scrunched her nose and handed it back to Violet.

“I’d like a new latte and a medium fruit salad, no pineapple.”

“Yes Miss.”

“Is that the schedule for the day?”

Violet nodded and handed her the paper.

“Also, before you go. Get Raja up here. I need to discuss the collection. That’s all,” Fame said, turning to her computer.

It wasn’t for a few minutes that Violet realized how serious Fame was about the collection change. She was standing in line at the coffee shop, checking her email, when she saw that Fame had sent one to the entire senior management team.

Subject: URGENT

All hands on deck meeting at 3 pm today to discuss a complete re-conceptualization of our Spring collection. Bring your best ideas, ready to discuss, along with samples and visual aids. Be prepared to work late.

Violet gulped, forwarding the email to all of the applicable assistants, when another one ticked in.

Subject: Violet - Get me Pearl

***

“This is interesting, try to get a sample of the skirt done ASAP and then spruce up the sketch,” Trixie said.

Trixie had been walking around the busy design floor, checking out what his team had come up with over the weekend. Ever since getting Violet’s text last Friday, he had a sinking feeling in his stomach that Fame was about to bring down a hammer, and so they needed to be prepared with new ideas.

Half of the team was working on changes and additions to their current collection. Half of them were working on entirely new concepts and ideas.

‘Remember guys,’ he’d said before they left on Friday. ‘This is a spaghetti against the wall situation. No bad ideas, time to explore everything. If it’s unique and innovative, that’s a plus. Pull out your passion projects.’

The truth was, Trixie had no idea what to expect. Fame had been silent all weekend, which made him even more nervous. Usually she’d send at least a few texts or emails. Ideas that popped into her head. A doodle on a notepad. Image references. But now, when she was allegedly questioning their whole collection? Nada.

Trixie walked over to where April was draping out an ornate sample dress in multiple shades of blue, telling her to carry on. Then he moved on to Alexis, scrutinizing the sketches on her desk with a critical eye.

“Some of these shapes are interesting, but I need you to redo them with different colors and fabrics,” he told her. “Remember, the color story is apparently the thing she’s most ambivalent about.”

“Got it,” Alexis said with a good-natured sigh, picking up a fresh pad.

“Um, Trixie?” Kandy looked up, a terrified look on her face as she hung up the phone.

“Yes?”

“Raja says to check your emails, don’t panic, and that she’s coming down to fill you in,” Kandy said.

Trixie pulled out his phone, stomach lurching as he read the email from Miss Fame, face going pale.

His worst fear had just come true: they were facing a complete reconceptualization. He looked up, forcing a smile in order to not terrify the design team even more.

“Okay,” he said, attempting to keep his voice light. “New plan...Blu, Jovan, Gia? Forget about the adjustments you were working on. We’re looking for fresh ideas, anything that you think could be a new signature piece. Everyone: the deadline is today at 3 pm.”

A small gasp rippled through the team as they realized how soon that was.

“Three pm?” Blu asked, the Irish designer looking like she might burst into tears.

“Yeah.” Trixie scanned the room again, hating the anxiety that he saw on everyone’s face, which he knew full well was not conducive to innovation. “And try to have fun. Remember, this is fashion, not heart surgery. No one’s gonna die.”

“We might die,” Jovan muttered under his breath, ripping his current piece out of a sewing machine and tossing it onto the ground.

“It’ll be okay,” Trixie put a hand on Jovan’s shoulder. He was his oddest worker, the wrinkly brain he had coming up with the most beautiful, crazy, intricate ideas when he was left to his own devices. “I promise.” Trixie squeezed, trying to put as much conviction behind his words as he could. “Just do your best.”

***

Pearl had just settled into her chair, ready to see if anything exciting had happened on Twitter while she had been by the design department to give Trixie his lunch.

It wasn’t something she normally did, but Katya had been near heartbroken when she saw that Trixie had forgotten the lunchbox she had made him that morning, and since Pearl was a pretty damn good roommate in her own opinion, she had volunteered to deliver it.

Katya had given her a kiss and a hug as thanks before she hurried out the door, two tote bags and canvas under both arms. If Pearl didn’t love her so much, she’d be almost disgusted with how good of a human being Katya was, spending her summer as a volunteer art teacher at a community center in the Bronx.

Her beating heart was however also the reason that Pearl hadn’t been kicked out of the apartment she shared with her Trixie when he and Katya had started dating, so who was she to complain?

A polite cough came from the door just as Pearl was catching up on Olivier Rousteing’s Instagram. She turned around and came face to face with Violet.

Pearl smiled; it was always a joy to see Violet, the other always a sight for sore eyes with her almost impeccable beauty.

It was always fun to see what Violet would wear, the woman almost vintage in her style.

“Is that Gabbana?”

“Of course it’s Gabbana” Violet smoothed down her skirt, and Pearl smiled. She was the only person who Pearl knew that could wear a button up, and still look like someone begging to get fucked.

“You’re late.”

“Am I?” Pearl smirked. Violet was fun to rile up, but Fame was her favorite, one of her very best days at work happening because she had agitated her boss on purpose.

“Is this about the collection? Trixie told me Fame has officially freaked.”

Violet didn’t say anything, and Pearl almost wanted to roll her eyes.

“I’ll take that silence as a yes.”

Violet was an annoyingly good assistant, never saying a word against Fame, always holding her tongue even when it would have been more than fair to complain.

“She wants you in her office in 10.”

“So I’m not actually late?” Pearl turned around to her iMac, seeing that the small email icon on her screen was blinking red. “Ah.”

Pearl realized that Violet had just saved her from Fame’s disappointment, but there was no way she was going to let the other know of her gratitude.

It was too early in the game for that.

“Sorry for helping you.” Violet huffed, rolling her eyes. “Here-” Violet put a folder down on Pearl’s desk. “In case you want to actually prepare-”

“Thanks Vivi.”

“Don’t call me that.”

***

“Shit.” Trixie exhaled a groan of frustration as he dumped down in his chair. He had known the email was coming, but it had still felt like a punch to the gut when he’d actually seen it.

Raja had come straight from a meeting with Fame, and Trixie had known it was bad, real bad, when he had seen how Raja’s normally ice cold exterior was chipped.

Trixie sighed, burrowing his head in his hands for a minute. He hated having to push his designers, hated forcing them to deliver in extreme conditions. A few of them thrived on it, Betty always delivering excellent work, while Aiden almost always buckled when he didn’t have time to pay attention to his details.

Trixie reached into his mini-fridge, taking the lunch Pearl had stopped by to drop off for him. It was only 10:30, but he unpacked it anyway. Katya had packed two pieces of carrot cake, a can of diet coke and as Trixie opened the metal container, the lovely smell of Katya’s best mushroom and cheese blinis greeted him.

He opened his drawer, pulling out a fork as he turned his computer on, the promise of carrot cake the only thing getting him through the avalanche of worried emails he knew was waiting for him.

***

Raja heaved a sigh as she stepped off the elevator. She’d been trying to give Trixie a warning about Fame’s current state of mind without causing the EVP of Design to freak out, but couldn’t shake the notion that she’d failed, seeing the crease in his forehead deepen the more she spoke, until she’d finally just left him with a firm pat on the back. She entered her own suite, the rich fabrics and warm colors immediately soothing her, although her relief was short-lived, since Jaida was perched on Ivy’s desk, a stern look on her face.

“I need to talk to you.”

Jaida was the most recent addition to their management team. The bright, resourceful CFO joined them almost two years ago, when Patrick stepped away from the day to day financial management to focus on his own firm. She’d truly been a godsend—immediately understanding the need for creative flexibility in their budgets, and helping to streamline the company’s organization in a way that was incredibly effective even as they grew by leaps and bounds.

But now, Jaida’s beautiful face was about the last one that Raja wanted to see. She was well-aware that Fame’s email had caused mass panic, and Jaida’s mind was probably already spinning in 100 different directions, thinking about how their timelines would now completely change the budget for Fashion Week beyond the normal contingency plan.

Raja gestured to her office, resigned to have this conversation now, and Jaida immediately sailed in, settling on the forest green velvet couch that Raven had picked out. Raja turned to Ivy, requesting some herbal tea, before joining her.

“So, Jaida, what are you brightening my day with?”

“An entire reconceptualization, Raja?”

“I’m aware that-”

“Has she completely lost it? Can’t you talk to her?” Jaida implored.

“Fame has made up her mind.”

“Ughhh!” Jaida’s hand fell into her hands.

“What a mature response-”

Raja was cut off when Shangela burst into the office. One of their longest and most loyal employees, the Director of Operations usually never panicked, taking on every challenge with an almost annoying amount of enthusiastic joy.

It was possible, Raja supposed, that she was extra annoyed by Shangela because of their failed relationship, but she liked to tell herself that that was besides the point.

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!” Shangela exclaimed, taking a seat across from Jaida.

“I was stalking Ms. Gemini here.” Jaida pointed with her thumb.

“Shangela, you’re in my office-” Raja began.

“Listen. I just want to make sure everyone understands the situation at hand. Bendela is already asking to double the staff in the tailoring department through September, and Alyssa says that this is going to potentially triple the budget for the media campaigns, and-”

“I know! It’s a shit show!” Jaida exclaimed.

Raja closed her eyes. Where the fuck was Ivy with her tea?

“I hear your concerns, however, we haven’t even had the creative meeting yet, so don’t you think we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves?”

“But Bendela says-”

“Of course she does, Shangela.” Raja sighed. Shangela was always so dramatic, but she was irritatingly good at her job.

“Bendela’s been requesting to hire more tailors for months now. That doesn’t mean that her estimate is accurate and if she truly sticks to her guns, Trixie just interviewed potential interns. I’m sure some of them can be assigned to tailoring.”

Ivy pushed her way through the door, a tray with coffee and tea for everyone in her hands.

“Right, okay, but what about-”

“We’re going to get through today, listen to what Fame has to say, what ideas everyone comes up with, and then reconvene tomorrow morning,” Raja said, gratefully accepting the tea that Ivy handed over.

“Fine,” Jaida said. “But if I were you, I’d convince Miss Fame that the current collection is brilliant.”

“You don’t think I tried that?” Raja laughed.

“Fair enough,” Jaida replied, finally letting a small giggle escape.

“Another day in paradise,” Shangela added, rising up from the couch.

#rpdr fanfiction #thedane #veronica #galactica #lesbian au #fashion au #pearlet #violet chachki #miss fame #trixie mattel #pearl liaison #raja gemini #jaida essence hall #shangela laquifa wadley

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britishassistant · 4 years

Text

But I Like One Piece (10)

For someone who considers exerting effort on practically everything “troublesome”, Shikamaru doesn’t exactly do the things he does decide to put his energy into by halves.

Throughout the rest of the week, he and Sakura continually drill her on everyone’s families until she can recite their contributions to the village by heart.

Naruto and Lee become unwitting participants in this when Sakura enlists them to help with her recitation early on, and subsequently discovers that they barely have any more idea than her what all the fuss is about.

She now knows that there are apparently four “noble” clans of Konoha—the Akimichi (Chouji), the Aburame (Shino), the Hyuuga (Hinata) and the Uchiha (Uchiha).

These clans were some of the first to join the village, and became known as “noble” for their clout in battle and their contributions to stabilizing the village’s infrastructure. The Akimichi and Aburame handled food growth and distribution, the Hyuuga helped set up the hospital and health care, and the Uchiha were the police.

There used to be a fifth “noble” clan, the Senju. They founded the village and served as administrators, but their line died out around the time of the Third Ninja War.

Other clans, like the Inuzuka (Kiba), the Nara (Shikamaru), and the Yamanaka (Ino), while no less important today than those first five, came a little later once stability had been mostly established.

The Inuzuka serve as trackers with their ninken while the Nara are tacticians and help fill the administrative gap left by the Senju.

The Yamanaka are in charge of the Torture and Interrogation department.

She and Naruto freeze up when this fact is revealed.

“O-oh.” She stutters, trying to tamp down her instinct to lunge across the table and beg Ino for any scraps of information regarding Otou-sama’s health and whereabouts.

She’s trying to be good, like Okaa-sama and Jimichi-san suggested, but it’s getting harder and harder with each day that passes.

It starts with children pointing her out to their parents when they were collected from the Academy, the adults quickly hustling their offspring away when they realized she could see them staring.

Then shops begin refusing to let Okaa-sama buy anything, saying the ryō she had was clearly counterfeit, threatening to have her locked up too if she tried to make a fuss. They have enough food to last them the week between what they’ve got in the pantry and Uchiha’s donations, but not much longer beyond that.

The dead birds that are left on their doorstep, with sad eyes and plucked grey wings and crushed eggs beside them, are just upsetting. She gives them burials in the back garden before Okaa-sama or Naruto can see them.

Maybe that’s why Naruto can suck in a quick breath, and ask, “What happens to people in Interrogation? The innocent ones?”

Ino looks like she wants to laugh—but then her mouth twists, pensive.

“They get food and water, and a bed.” She says, softly. “Interrogation might need to keep them longer, if they’re really helpful with intel gathering, but they all go home sooner or later.”

Naruto slumps, breath rushing out of him, and gives Ino a dazed smile. “Right. Good to know.”

He bites into his soba noodles and she looks back down at her own lunch, pretending she doesn’t feel the same heady rush of relief.

She ignores the little voice in her head that keeps saying Ino only told him what happened to the ones they thought were innocent.

She walks home with Naruto and Lee, like they’ve been doing all week.

This way, after they wash up the lunchboxes, they can make tomorrow’s lunch right away together, and she doesn’t have to worry about forgetfulness distracting her during training again.

Okaa-sama usually comes home by the time they’ve assembled their lunchboxes and put them into the fridge for tomorrow.

So it’s worrying that that she still hasn’t arrived an hour past her usual return time.

Lee suggests that she practice using her bokken on them to pass the time, so they can practice dodging and she can practice her strikes.

She shuts that down quickly by asking if they can do strength training by kneading bread.

Naruto chooses a recipe for melon bread from her cookbook, because they have a can of pureed melon from Uchiha.

“Plus it’s weird.” He says. “It’s called ‘melon bread’, but it’s not melon flavored? There should be a better name for it, believe it.”

Lee tilts his head. “It looks a bit like Katsu-san’s shell, so maybe tortoise bread?”

“That’s a much better name.” She nods. “I think we might have food coloring somewhere—wanna make it look like them?”

They chatter as they knead and experiment with color combinations that won’t turn brown when mixed with the melon. The purple of Katsu-san’s shell may be an unattainable dream.

Naruto complains loudly about “that dumb yellow turtle,” who told him something “mean” about Interrogation that he refused to divulge, no matter how many bowls of ramen he was promised.

They all do their best to ignore the rising tension in the air as the hours tick on and Okaa-sama still hasn’t come back.

Then, just as the bread’s ready to come out of the oven, the front door slams open.

“WE HAVE RETURNED!!” Gai-sensei yells.

Naruto and Lee rush out of the kitchen ahead of her, babbling a million questions a minute.

It’s probably because she has to shove the latest batch of bread onto a cooling rack and pull off the oven mitts before following them that she catches sight of her mother while Naruto and Lee receive hugs from Gai-sensei.

Her kimono collar is torn and her hair has been half-ripped out of its work bun and there’s a large blue-black bruise blooming along her left cheekbone.

Her breathing feels too shallow and blood’s pounding in her ears.

But—how—why—

Okaa-sama catches sight of her and her eyes go soft and sad. “Do we have any frozen peas, sweetheart?”

She nods, numbly, and goes back into the kitchen to the freezer.

She jumps and nearly elbows Gai-sensei in the stomach when his hand comes down on her shoulder.

“Mayu-chan.” He kneels down in front of her, brows drawn down over his eyes. “Your mother is alright. Her youthful spirit flows strong even in the face of disapproval of those who should call her a comrade.”

Her mouth works silently. The peas make a cracking sound as her grip on the bag tightens.

“Did you catch them?” She asks finally.

His brow furrows and he shakes his head. “Unfortunately, the unyouthful thieves were able to evade our search. Even my cool and hip rival and the most youthful Inuzuka Tsume were unable to track them. But they will be found and brought to justice, have faith in that.”

She swallows to making her voice sound less like a croak. “And then Otou-sama will come home again, right?”

Gai-sensei nods authoritatively, flashing her a thumbs up. “Of course!”

She thinks that she can maybe hold out a little while longer. She needs to be better, so they don’t hurt Okaa-sama, but that shouldn’t be too hard.

She tries to tell herself that she won’t let it be as two thirds of her family crowd around the dining table, being as loud and boisterous as they can to try and make up for the empty chair.

Otou-sama doesn’t come back that night either.

Okaa-sama waits up the whole night, or near enough that there’s hardly a difference.

She comes down to leave for training with Gai-sensei, and Okaa-sama’s still there, watching the sunrise spill light onto the street in her nightclothes with the now lukewarm bag of peas pressed to her cheek. Her mother startles badly when she touches her elbow gently.

She can’t keep her mind on her katas, despite all her efforts in the face of Gai-sensei’s encouragement.

Is Otou-sama alright? How much has he eaten in the past week? Are they hurting him?

Will he come back at all?

When this thought crystallizes, she has to duck behind a tree to be violently sick.

Gai-sensei finds her spitting bile and crying so hard she can’t stop herself. He offers her a packet of tissues to wipe her mouth with and pulls her into a one-armed hug, rubbing her shoulder soothingly.

It’s almost enough to make her believe everything will be right again when training ends and she goes home.

Not quite. But almost.

It feels strange.

She sees her mother’s puffy eyes (Okaa-sama didn’t go to bed like she suggested, even if she knows from one too many all-nighters at Uni that it’d be hellish to try and face today on no sleep), she sees Gai-sensei’s concerned glances between her and her mother, she faintly hears Lee and Naruto’s questions about how Okaa-sama’s feeling and when Otou-sama’s coming back—

But it’s like there’s a fog. Clouding her brain, making her head hurt. That’s blocking her from really feeling— everything.

She keeps expecting Otou-sama to open the front door, maybe with a black eye but no worse for wear, laughing about the mixup they had at his work, how it’s all a misunderstanding, how ridiculous it was anyone in a million years could ever suspect him—

Otou-sama misses breakfast.

Okaa-sama takes her aside before she and Naruto and Lee can go to the Academy for the day.

“We weren’t—” She purses her lips, twisting tight around the sob in her throat. “We were going to wait until you were ten. But—with your father—”

Okaa-sama can’t quite choke off that sob. She waits, patiently, until her mother can explain, can press the thing she’s holding into her little hands.

It’s not a knife or dagger. It’s too long for that, but not by much. It has a pretty sheath, grey decorated in red tomoe, and the blade gleams a cold silvery-blue when she pulls it out carefully.

“...Across the stomach, right?” She asks. That’s what she heard about hara-kiri from her past life, but she doesn’t want to get this wrong. Not when it’s Ketsugi honor on the line.

Okaa-sama blinks, drawing away from her, something like horror dawning across her face. “...N-no, sweetheart. Across the stomach is for men. We women do it across the throat. But that is not what this is to be used for. This is for self-defense only, alright? Mayu, promise me.”

She nods, not quite understanding what she needs defending from. Gai-sensei said there were only comrades in the village. She just needs to be good, and keep her head down, and they’ll stop hurting Okaa-sama and Otou-sama and realize they’re comrades too.

“Keep Naruto or Lee with you.” Her mother breathes, hugging her close and hard after tying an obi around her dress. It feels like the not-knife sticks out like a sore thumb beneath the bunched fabric. “Your Otou-san will be back soon. And we all need to be there to greet him, understand?”

“Yes, Okaa-sama.” She says, hugging her mother back, trying to convince herself that ritual suicide won’t be such a bad way to go if worst comes to worst, that she’s not afraid of death, that she has no right to be, given that she’s died once already.

Judging by the tears that gather in her eyes, she’s awful at persuasion.

She tries her best.

She’s even a little annoyed at the fog-headache, because while it keeps her from feeling all the awful truths and doubts about the situation, it also stops her from absorbing Mizuki-sensei’s lectures.

And she needs to be a model little tree-hugger if she wants Otou-sama to come home.

The pretty not-knife digs into her stomach whenever she moves. It’s very distracting.

Naruto and Chouji and Lee and Ino and Kiba and even Sasuke speak to her in careful tones of voice though. Like she might break if they go louder than a slow semi-whisper.

She wants to appreciate it. She really does. But, well. Brain fog. Makes it hard to concentrate.

Maybe the fog is also part of chakra? Distancing the host from their intentions and emotions to better manipulate them into mindlessly producing the energy it needs to feed. If she could just get Mizuki-sensei to listen, she could get the use of this stuff banned once and for all—

By the time she checks back in, she’s blinking up at Akamatsu Ami with the word “Traitor!” ringing in her ears.

“...S-sorry?” She asks, her voice wavering.

Ami huffs. “What are you, stupid? I said everybody knows your daddy is a filthy traitor to this village. Just watch, his execution will be scheduled before the day is up. Guess the Hokage will know not to take in slant-eyed scrap from Iron anymore.”

And Naruto is yelling and Ino is yelling and Kiba and Chouji, and Sakura is drawing back a fist to punch Ami square in the mouth, and she can’t understand that, because how does she dare? How does she dare to strike anyone—

Don’tshowagressionDon’tshowagressionDon’tshowagressionDon’tshowagressionDon'tshowagressionDon'tshowagressionDon'tshowagressionDon'tshowagressionDon’tshowagression—

—if she knows it’s forbidden? Sakura must be strong. So strong. Why did everyone hate Sakura in her past life if she could be this strong? Strong enough to flagrantly defy the essential rule—

Don’tshowagressionDon’tshowagressionDon’tshowagressionDon’tshowagressionDon'tshowagressionDon'tshowagressionDon'tshowagressionDon'tshowagressionDon’tshowagression—

—the one that she could never have the guts to defy, no matter how much it hurts? No matter how much she feels like she’s choking on the inaction? No matter how much it hurts to grit her teeth and clench her fists and bite down harder and harder and harder—

Don’tshowagressionDon’tshowagressionDon’tshowagressionDon’tshowagressionDon'tshowagressionDon'tshowagressionDon'tshowagressionDon'tshowagressionDon’tshowagression—

Huh.

She’s never heard Mizuki-sensei yell this loud before.

Naruto’s holding her hand and crying. Why is he crying? She tries to shush him, tell him it’s alright, but her just cries harder when her hand brushes his hair, his grip sure to bruise.

Then there’s the nice man with the scar on his nose kneeling on front of her.

“Hello Ketsugi-chan.” He says. “Do you know who I am?”

Of course she does. He’s the one who tries to be nice to Naruto. He’s not always successful, but he tries, which is more than she can say for Taki-sensei and Mizuki-sensei. She tries to tell him this, but it comes out illegible and half-burbled, her mouth burning.

She frowns. Stupid mind fog.

“Right.” The nice man says, frowning. She doesn’t want him to frown. She wishes she could give him a better answer. “Well, I’m Iruka-sensei. I’m going to take you to the hospital now, because you’ve bitten your poor lip very hard. Do you understand, Ketsugi-chan?”

She does and she doesn’t like it, because Okaa-sama said she wasn’t to go anywhere without Naruto or Lee, because if she does go somewhere without Naruto or Lee, she’ll have to commit ritual suicide with the pretty not-knife and then Otou-sama will never come home, because Okaa-sama said they all had to be there for him to be welcomed back, and she wants Otou-sama back, she wants Otou-sama, she wants—

“Easy Ketsugi-chan, easy, easy.” Iruka-sensei presses a hand to her chest, stopping her from inhaling until the pressure lightens, making her exhale when he presses down again. It should feel scary. It’s weird how it helps her focus on his words instead, “You’ll be okay if Naruto-kun and Lee-kun are with you?”

Yeah, that sounds fair. She nods rapidly so Iruka-sensei gets the message.

He grabs her head. His face looks scared, before he begins smiling again, uneasy. “Right. Okay.” He picks her up, cradling her against his green jacket.

It doesn’t feel like Otou-sama or Gai-sensei picking her up. It’s not bad, but not familiar. She squirms a little in his grip.

“Lee-san, can you come with us please?”

She can hear Lee, distantly. It sounds strange, like someone’s taken Lee’s voice and made it too high, too panicked. She wants to pat his head too, tell him it’s all okay, Otou-sama will come back before we know it.

Then they’re in the village, and then they’re in a white building with a lot of rushing people. It looks like a hospital.

“That’s because it is a hospital, Ketsugi-chan.” Iruka-sensei says, distracted.

Oh. That makes sense.

They make Iruka-sensei sit outside.

They try to make Naruto and Lee stay outside too, but she begins crying and Naruto begins crying and Lee gets shiny eyes and a wobbly lower lip, so eventually they let them in with her.

The nurse who takes her height and weight is nice, if a little too smiley. The smile is nice, soft and friendly, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes all the way. Like it’s pasted onto her face.

Her smile goes weird, more rigid, when Naruto and Lee suddenly begin drooping like they’re tired and she grabs their hands hard to wake them back up. She walks out of the room quickly, without saying a word to any of them.

The doctor is even more nice, so that makes up for the weird smiley nurse.

The doctor frowns and says there wasn’t a nurse, but he’s more focused on doing something to Mayu’s mouth which involves a pretty green glow, so she forgives him for being a bit oblivious.

She gets a lollipop that the nice doctor says is for later, and she tells him obviously, they haven’t even had lunch yet, it’s very important to eat a proper lunch before you can have dessert, otherwise you’ll fill up on nothing but sugar and feel sick later.

Naruto lets out a watery laugh and the doctor tells her she’s very right, that she should be a nutritionist when she’s older, and pats her head.

She accepts the head pat but regrettably tells the doctor she’s going to be too busy being a pirate chef to be a nutritionist, but thank you for the offer.

The doctor tells her that’s okay as Naruto hugs her a little too tight and Lee tells her he thinks she could become the best ninja nutritionist AND a pirate chef if she wanted to when Okaa-sama and Gai-sensei burst in.

So apparently she bit her lip so hard, her teeth ended up going clean through it.

There’s now a small, white scar on her lower lip, and another on the flesh-colored bit under it where it meets her chin. The nice doctor says it should fade in a couple of years.

It makes her feel sort of gross to think about it too hard, so she tries not to.

She gets a lot of hugs, for some reason.

From Okaa-sama, who manages to confiscate the not-knife with a stern look sometime between the second and the third, and she doesn’t try to hide how much easier it is to breathe without it digging into her.

From Gai-sensei, who’s bawling about youth and strength and relying on others and youth and somehow has managed to sweep Iruka-sensei into the hug as well, despite the scarred man’s sputtering and attempts to escape.

Okaa-sama tries to insist that he come round for dinner, but he says a lot of things about not wanting to impose and favoritism, so eventually they haggle him down to treating him to Ichiraku’s some time.

Nobody can turn down Ichiraku’s.

Naruto and Lee have been all but attached to her side since the nice doctor told them she’d be fine, but maybe don’t yawn too widely for a few weeks. Naruto somehow managed to smuggle her lollipop away from her during the walk home and is now eating it.

When she protests, he pulls it out of his mouth with a sour look. “Mayu-chan, you bit yourself so bad I thought you were gonna die. There was blood everywhere, believe it. Imma need the-ra-pee to get over it.”

“Therapy doesn’t mean you get all my desserts, Naruto.” She replies.

He raises his eyebrows in challenge, lollipop firmly in his cheek.

“Fine.” She grouses, leaning more into Lee, who has been moved to tears by Gai-sensei’s third rendition of the importance of relying on your comrades and not shouldering burdens alone.

They end up sort of—collapsing. Once they’re back home.

It’s been a very stressful week for all of them.

Guy-sensei is chuffed seven ways to Sunday once he finds out about the tortoise melon bread, which somehow managed to go uneaten in all the fuss of the previous night, so they end up tearing those apart to share as a light lunch.

Her mother soon drops off, curled up in her armchair, while Gai-sensei ends up snoring on the couch. She regales Naruto and Lee with her best rendition of One Piece’s Alabasta Arc, half-drowsing in the sunlight.

Lee’s especially enamored with the idea of Luffy’s techniques and the Dugong Gang.

The Harunos drop by late into the afternoon, bearing their bags and lunchboxes which Mizuki-sensei apparently foisted upon them after school ended, so they share that between them as a late afternoon snack.

There’s an unspoken consensus that tonight’s dinner will be Ichiraku’s takeout.

She’s taking down everyone’s orders when there’s a knock at the door.

There’s a man with familiar blue eyes and blonde hair standing there when she answers it.

She doesn’t hear what he says, because hanging over his shoulder, hardly standing under his own steam is—

“OTOU-SAN!!”

She can barely hear the ragged cry that tears itself from her throat because she’s barreling forward, slamming into her father and holding on as tightly as she can.

His hakama feels stiff and crusty under her fingers, and he stinks of sweat and copper.

But she doesn’t care about any of that, doesn’t care that she’s bawling like a helpless little eight year old right here in the street, because her Otou-san is back, he’s here, he’s home.

The fingers he runs over her hair are rough due to the bandages that cover them, and his face is bruised when he pulls her cheeks up to look at her, grinning widely around a split lip and a broken nose held together with gauze.

“I’m home, Mayu.” He says.

And she begins crying all over again, and Naruto barrels into him on her other side, equally snotty nosed, then Lee, and Okaa-san, kissing all of his bruises and choking out a “welcome back” right before Gai-sensei slams into them, toppling everyone to the ground as he wails harder than anyone else.

Later she’ll learn the blonde man is Ino’s dad, and she’ll make the girl so much pudding that the Yamanaka won’t need to purchase that product for a month. She’ll also make Sakura enough anmitsu that she can’t look at the dessert for a week.

She’ll learn that her father has bandages on his hands because his fingernails were ripped out, and it takes a long and painful time for them to grown back in before he can even think about holding his bokken like he used to. That he did end up helping the village once Yamanaka-san met with him, because the thieves tried to scatter around money and symbols from other nations to throw everyone off the scent, but he knew the ryō from Iron was twenty years out of date, and all the others were tarnished with age, except for—

And then her mother will tell her to stop eavesdropping and go to bed, which she will, but not without much whining beforehand.

But right now, she revels in the slightly crushing weight and squirming limbs of her family around her, and begins laughing wetly through her tears.

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ilovereadingandilovebreathing · 5 years

Text

Love in the Time of Tantrums

Human AU in which Logan and Patton are married and have fostered and/or adopted Virgil (3 then & 17 now), Remy (2 then & 14 now), and twins Roman and Remus (5 then & almost 7 now). Logan works for NASA, and Patton owns and manages a doggy day care/boarding facility.

Story: Remus is having a d a y, and he and Patton have some healing to do. (Family slice of life with paternal Hurt/Comfort; probably angst, too lol sorry)

⚠️WARNINGS⚠️: blood, classmate bullying, crying, sibling bullying, hitting, angry/tense speech, yelling/arguing, implied past abuse, mention of The Exorcist ((Please let me know if I missed anything!!))

A/N: I didn’t feel like doing the whole stutter/cry/talk thing, so use your imagination at those parts. There’s a lot. ALSO HUGE sorry if this feels OOC; I went a little wild. I saw some parenting post on Facebook and got emotional.

BEFORE READING: If you don’t know what a five star slap is: it’s when someone hits someone’s bare skin so hard that it leaves a clear five finger handprint red mark.

It’s 3:47pm on a Thursday, which means two things. 1) It’s Patton’s day off, so he’s gotten a lot done at home. 2) The peace of the house is about to be shattered by four of Patton’s five favorite people. This actually means three things if Patton’s excitement to see his children counts, but his building elation is flattened when the car doors are thrown open.

“Oh my GOD, Remus!”

The chaos erupts before Patton can even see the cause, and just as he reaches the door between the kitchen and garage, it’s flung open, nearly hitting Patton in the process. Virgil stumbles through with a whimpering Roman curled in his arms.

“Oh, sh-sorry, Dad.” Virgil stops abruptly, and Roman turns in his brother’s arms, reaching blindly for his father as tears pour from his eyes.

“Oooh, baby.” Patton coos as he takes Roman into his arms. “What’s wrong, my Little Prince?”

“Remus.” Remy trudges in, dragging a violently wriggling Remus in his arms. “We tried to stop him, but nothing we do scares him!” Remy suddenly releases his brother, and the six-year-old falls to the floor giggling maniacally. “You nasty little son of a-“

“Remy.”

“Dad! He licked me!!”

“Remus, what have we said about licking your brothers?”

“Do it all the time! It keeps them clean!” The twin darts back and forth behind his older brothers’ legs, dodging an unseen enemy.

“No, Re...The opposite, actually.” Roman trembles in Patton’s arms as he tries to rein in his cries, and Patton hugs him tightly. “So who’s going to fill me in on how Re made Ro cry?”

Virgil sighs and runs a hand down his face. “Looks like Remus learned a new trick at school today and tried it out on Roman. Multiple. Times.”

“It’s called a five star slap!” Remus announces proudly, squirming out from behind his brothers to pose in front of his father. “You wind up real good like this, and then-”

“Remus. Enough.”

Remus flinches but quiets, still bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Virgil, please get Roman some ice for his back and take him upstairs. I need to talk to Remus alone.”

“Yeah, Dad.” Virgil quietly retrieves a baggy and fills it with ice; he smiles softly as he opens his arms and coaxes Roman toward him. The younger brother whines when Patton’s grip loosens, clinging to his father’s shirt with tears threatening to spill again. “Come on, Ro. We can watch whatever movie you want in the bonus room, okay? Dad needs to talk to Remus. Please?”

Roman sniffs but reluctantly relents, instantly hugging his brother around his neck as they turn and head to the second floor. Roman waves good bye to his father with a sad frown before they disappear up the stairs.

“Remus.” Patton’s voice is ice; his normally soft eyes are hard as stone as he gestures with his pointer finger. “Come here. Now.”

Remy attempts to grab his brother by the arm and drag him over, but Patton puts his hand up and knocks him back with a glare.

“Just Remus. On his own.”

Remus shuffles forward inch by inch with a dark scowl on his tiny features, all traces of the energy from before channeled to frustration.

Some of the kids on the playground tell Remus that he’s a freak for having two dads, and others think he’s lucky. Remus disagrees with both, believing that two dads just means two different types of punishment. To Remus, Papa Logan is more reasonable; he says Remus needs to let his “natural exuberance” and “niche interests” out to maintain his mental health, though sometimes even Papa gets frustrated with him. Daddy Patton is the one who silences and punishes him for being himself but praises and supports Roman for being himself. Parents aren’t supposed to have favorites, but Roman clearly ranks above Remus with Patton, and that makes him livid.

So when he finally reaches Patton, Remus stops just inches away from him in an over exaggerated show of obedience; he looks up and straight into Patton’s eyes, his own set to a spine chilling glare paired with his signature wicked grin. “What?!” The little one suddenly yells out in a manic half laugh half cry.

“Why did you hurt your brother, Remus?” Patton’s tone is firm and level.

“He hurt me first!”

“Oh my GOD; he did not, Remus!”

Patton looks up sharply. “Rem, you wanna go get the mail and help Papa bring his stuff in? I just heard his car door.”

“Not really.”

“Remy, please go.” Patton’s tone takes on a slightly sweet lilt, and Remy sighs before turning to retrace his path through the garage, clearly disappointed that he didn’t get to see his brother get punished.

“Hi, Pop.” Remy calls, giving a single wave. “Dad is about to chew Remus out.”

“What?” Logan’s tired voice filters into the kitchen, and Patton sighs.

“I’m not going to ‘chew your brother out,’ Remy.”

“You really are.”

“Rem.”

“Sorry.”

“Help your Dad.”

“Too late.” Logan enters the kitchen with a laptop bag on one arm, the mail in one hand, and his lunchbox in the other. “I grabbed it as I drove in.”

Remy scoots in behind Logan. “Sorry, Popsquared.” He shrugs and sidesteps past the trio. “I’ll go....Do my homework?”

“Great idea.” Logan smiles stiffly and nods his son up the stairs; he exhales as sets his bags on the bench by the garage door, hanging his keys. “Hello, Dear, Remus. We’ve had quite a day, haven’t we?”

Patton sighs and rubs his eyes. “Father’s intuition?”

“Virgil’s cell phone.”

“Remus hit his brother, and I’m handling it. Why don’t you rest, Love?”

Logan eyes the pair warily, looking ready to protest, but he thinks better of it and nods. “I’ll be in our room if you need me.” The couple exchanges a brief kiss as Logan passes by, and he throws back a quick glance as he goes up the stairs.

“Finally.” Patton breathes, figuring Remus has had plenty of time to stew, simmer, and cool down with the interruptions. “Now that we have some privacy-”

“Just get it over with!”

Patton’s breath hitches a bit, and he looks down to find Remus with the same wide eyes and grin as before, staring at him intently. “Get what over with?”

“My punishment! Just ground me or spank me or make me go without dinner! Just get it over with! Do it! I know you want to!” Remus throws his arms to his sides and stomps, gaze still transfixed on Patton.

“Remus, why are you saying that? Papa and I never hit you or keep food from you.”

“That’s what the other kids said bad kids like me get for punishments!” Remus is still yelling, his body taking on a slight tremble. “They said I deserve to be so skinny you can see my bones! They said I should sit in the corner for hours without a potty break! They said-“

“Whoa, whoa, kiddo.” Patton tries to put a hand on his son’s shoulder, but he shrugs it off. “Who is saying all that mean stuff to you?”

“Kids on the playground. No one you know. It doesn’t matter because it’s not your business!”

“Why isn’t it my business?”

“Because you hate me! You love Roman and Remy and Virgil, but not me! You don’t care about me, and I don’t care about you, so you don’t get to know!”

“Why do you think I hate and don’t care about you?”

“Because you only yell at me and not Roman when something bad happens! When Roman takes my stuff, you just tell him to give it back, but when I take his stuff, you get mad at me and take mine away!”

“That’s because-“ Patton clamps his mouth shut on his retort when Remus’s eyes fill with tears; Patton realizes that his little one is reaching an overload, and he knows that means Remus is not open to discussion right now. He just needs to keep asking questions and let Remus air out his frustrations. Patton lowers his voice so that the boy has to listen, keeping his tone even while adding a soothing overtone. “Do I do that a lot?”

“Not that much...but it feels like it because it’s always me who gets in the most trouble!”

“How does that make you feel?”

“It makes me mad!”

“Why?”

“Because it’s not fair!”

“How else do you feel?”

“Angry!”

“What about sad?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“.....I don’t know.” Remus’s lower lip trembles, and his hands are in fists at his sides.

“You don’t know? If you don’t care about me, why does it make you sad? You have to care to be sad.”

“I don’t know! But I don’t care! Because....because I’m not sad right now! I’m...angry!” Tears slip out of the corners of Remus’s eyes, and he rubs at them roughly, making himself whimper with the force.

Patton notices how dark his son’s fingernails are for the first time, and his breath catches in his throat. He takes Remus’s hand. “Is that blood?”

“Maybe.”

“Where’d it come from?”

“No where.” Remus rips his hand from Patton’s and crosses his arms, staring stubbornly at Patton’s shirt now.

“Did you hit someone, Remus?”

“No!”

“Did someone hit you?”

Remus goes stiff, staring straight ahead before he stomps his feet and shrieks, “No! Of course not why would someone hit me I’m not weak like Roman no one can hurt me! Even if that mean ugly teacher doesn’t believe it!” Remus grits his teeth, his little face scrunching up as though in pain. His whole body trembles as he suddenly erupts into loud, whining cries.

“Oh, no...Come here, Remus.” Patton drops to sit on the floor a few feet from Remus, opening his arms for a hug but giving him the choice.

Remus turns away and hugs himself tightly, sobbing into the open air.

Patton lets his arms fall into his lap, but he subtly scoots a bit closer to the crying boy.

“Remus, please talk to me. Who hurt you?”

“No one! I hurt myself!”

“Why did you hurt yourself?” Patton tries to keep the alarm out of his voice.

“I didn’t do it on purpose! I ran into a tree and made my nose bleed!”

“Why did you run into a tree?” Patton scoots closer.

“Some boys were throwing a frisbee and I tried to catch it but it went too high and I didn’t see the tree and I hit it and they all laughed at me and called me a weirdo! They said I’m so stupid I couldn’t see a tree right in front of me! It hurt and I was scared but the playground eacher just said to wipe my nose and stop bothering other people I don’t know!”

Patton’s heart shatters, and he scoots closer again. “Did you tell your teacher?”

“Yeah but she said I was fine and didn’t need to go to the nurse! She said I was being dram-dramo-“

“Dramatic?”

“Yeah! And after school I was waiting for Virgil and one of the boys did the five star on my back and it hurt really bad but he ran away when I told the teacher and she didn’t believe me because he was gone!”

Patton scoots closer, and Remus is within arm’s reach. “So the boys were mean to you a lot, and you needed help, but the teachers didn’t listen? They didn’t help you, and that made you sad?”

“Yeah! They never listen!”

Patton scoots forward one last time, closing the distance between himself and his son. He whispers near Remus’s ear. “Why did you hit your brother, Remus?”

“I don’t know!” Remus wails. “I was mad and I just wanted to!”

“Because the boy hit you and the teacher didn’t care? It made you mad and sad that no one cared about what happened to you? And Roman wasn’t sad or mad, so you hit Roman?”

“Yeah!”

“I’m gonna pick you up now, okay?” Patton reaches forward and scoops Remus into his arms before he can escape or refuse, pulling the boy to his chest. Remus thrashes wildly in Patton’s hold, eyes wide and cries like a wild animal trapped in a cage. “Remus, Remus, Remus.” Patton pulls him closer. “Remus, I’m just hugging you; you’re not in trou-“ Patton groans after Remus’s head flies back and connects with his nose. “Ouch-“

Remus freezes and looks up, eyes wide and horrified when he sees the tiny trail of blood start to trickle from Patton’s nose. Patton grabs the dish towel hanging from the nearby stove before Remus can process what he’s done.

“D-Daddy?”

“Remus-“

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry!” Remus is crying and thrashing again, trying to escape Patton’s hold, but Patton tents his legs on either side of the boy and holds on as tight as he can with an arm and an elbow. “I didn’t mean to hurt you! Please don’t hurt me!”

“Shhh shh shh, Remus.” Patton inhales deeply to stave off his own breakdown, too harshly reminded that Remus still has so far to run from his life before this family. “I’m just hugging you; it’s okay. It’s okay. I’m okay. You’re okay. You’re safe. I’m safe. You’re okay. You’re safe, Remus.” Patton mutters the words over and over as he tries to hold Remus close, subtly trying to keep his nose clean. “Please, Remus, just let me hold you. Let me hug you to help you feel better. I’m not mad at you. You’re not in trouble. You’re safe. I’m not going to hurt you. You’re not going to get hurt.”

“You’re not gonna hurt me?” Remus has stopped resisting and is staring up at Patton.

Patton takes a deep breath and silently curses the twins’ first (and second-to-last) foster home. “No, baby. I won’t hurt you, and I won’t let those boys or those teachers hurt you again. I will come to your school tomorrow morning and talk to the principal and those teachers, okay? They won’t be mean to you anymore.”

“But you have work tomorrow.”

“That’s okay. I can go late.”

“Why?”

“Because I own the place!” Patton laughs a bit.

“No, why are you coming?”

“Oh, Remus, because I love you, baby. I love you so much, and I don’t want you to get hurt again. That would make me cry.” Patton’s eyes fill with the pressure of this whole dam of emotions building within him, and he gives Remus a wet smile. “I don’t hate you, Remus. I love you so, so much. Just as much as Virgil, and Roman, and Remy, and I’m so sorry I don’t tell you that enough. I’ll do it a lot more. I promise. I love you. I love you. I love you.” Patton accentuates each “I love you” with a kiss to Remus’s head, and the child only pulls back the first time.

Remus sits back against Patton’s thigh and stares at his father, as if searching for something, some “gotcha,” some trick or hint of betrayal in his father’s eyes, but he finds none.

Patton runs a hand over Remus’s hair and presses a soft kiss to his forehead. “I promise. I love you forever and ever, my little sunshine.”

Something in Remus finally clicks into place, an understanding dawning on his face, and he slowly relaxes in Patton’s hold, letting himself be embraced. Patton pulls Remus toward him with no resistance, and the boy sobs openly into his father’s chest, the pain and relief mixing together in an overwhelming maelstrom in his little chest that he can’t fully understand or articulate. He just sits limply in Patton’s arms and cries himself out, crying every tear he refused to let his classmates or his teachers or his brothers see him cry.

“It’s okay, baby. Cry all you need to. You’re gonna be okay. Daddy and Papa and Virgil and Remy and Roman will keep you safe. We love you so, so much.” Patton rocks him slightly and rubs Remus’s back, periodically pressing kisses to his hair.

Patton keeps uttering reassurances as he carefully scoots backward and grabs a napkin from the holder on the kitchen table; he sets down the dishcloth and carefully stuffs the napkin into his nose with one hand as he keeps holding on to Remus with the other, the boy having calmed down to watch the whole process. “See? It’s okay. Daddy’s okay. You’re not in trouble.”

Remus shudders as he breathes, his little body still trembling with emotion as he stares up at Patton, eyes wide and wet and cheeks flushed.

Patton leans over and looks Remus in the eyes. “You okay?” Patton asks quietly, placing a quick peck on Remus’s nose that makes the boy go cross-eyed.

The little one considers for a moment. “N-no.” Remus stutters out, gripping on to Patton’s polo like a lifeline.

“That’s okay. Thank you for being honest with me. What do you want to do now?”

Remus shrugs mutely, unusual for the boy, but...most of this scenario is new for Remus. Honesty and vulnerability are something they’re still working on with the twins, particularly Remus, just one of a handful of carry overs from their first foster home.

Patton taps his chin thoughtfully. “We can...go find Roman and say we’re sorry?”

Remus wrinkles his nose at that; his eyes water again.

“Mmm maybe too soon. We can...go help Remy with his homework?”

Remus quirks a brow at him, perplexed. “I can’t do 9th grade homework.”

“Mmm me either. I’m too old. We can...go see Papa in Daddy and Papa’s room? Papa can hug you, too, if you want.”

Remus considers for a moment, and then he nods.

“Okay, let’s go.” Patton helps push Remus up and then stands himself, moving to go up the stairs when a little hand pulls on the back of his shirt; Remus is staring at him shyly from beneath his bangs. “What’s up?”

“Can you carry me?”

“Carry you?” Patton smiles and turns, bending to Remus’s eye level. “You’ve never wanted me to carry you before.”

“But you carry Roman all the time.”

“Because he asks to be carried all the time.” Patton laughs and holds out his arms. “I never said I wouldn’t carry you, buddy; I’m just a little surprised.” Remus immediately wraps his arms around his father’s neck, and Patton presses a kiss to his head as he straightens, adjusting his hold to this unfamiliar body.

Remus mumbles something as they move toward the stairs.

“What’s that, bud?”

“You never called me ‘buddy’ or ‘bud’ or ‘baby’ or any of those names, either, like you do with Virgil and Roman and Remy.”

“I didn’t know you wanted me to. I called you ‘baby’ once, and you got mad and said you weren’t a baby.”

“Because I’m not!....But you’re not really calling me a baby, right?”

“Right, I’m saying you’re my baby. That I want to love you and protect you and carry you.”

“Oh. That’s okay, then, I guess.”

“I’m glad, but don’t be afraid to tell me when you don’t like something, okay? Remember how we talked about being honest a little while ago?

“Yeah.”

“I want you to be honest with me.” Patton pushes open the door to his bedroom, revealing Logan lounging on their bed with a book on his lap. “And you were very honest today, and I’m very proud of you for that. You did a good job of telling me how you were sad and mad and angry.” Patton sits on the bed and looks to Logan with tears brimming, his husband returning a loving if not confused gaze. “You can always tell me and Papa about however you feel, okay?”

“Yes, Remus.” Remus looks over at Logan shyly, seeming to realize his emotional state for the first time. “You can always tell Daddy or me. We love you, Little Nova.” Logan sets aside his book, and Remus takes the invitation, wiggling out of Patton’s hold to sit on his Papa’s lap.

A tear spills over, and Patton quickly swipes it away. Logan meets his gaze, sympathy burning in his eyes, and he opens his arm for Patton to settle in with them. Remus settles easily against Logan’s chest, instantly limp and calm in Logan’s steady presence, and Patton feels a sharp pang in his heart knowing now that he had missed out on growing with his son, that Remus felt so rejected by him. He breathes deeply, trying to stave off a breakdown, and Logan rubs his arm soothingly which only makes him want to cry more.

“I love you, Remus.” Patton whispers.

“I know, Daddy. You said that already.” Remus whispers back, his voice light and airy as exhaustion takes hold of him.

Patton settles back just as their door quietly swings inward. Remy stands in the doorway with Roman in his arms, Virgil lurking quietly in the hall behind them.

“Roman wanted to see you. And Papa.”

The aforementioned boy rubs at his swollen eyes, and Patton’s heart aches. If only he could comfort all of his babies when and how and where they needed to be. Patton sits up and pats the empty space on their bed, gesturing for all of their boys to join in the family cuddle pile. Remy hands Roman over to Patton, and the boy snuggles into his father’s hold, resting his head on Patton’s shoulder as Patton runs a hand up and down his son’s spine. Remy stretches and settles himself at the foot of the bed, his head resting in a crooked elbow as he feigns casualty, but his gaze constantly shifts between his Dad, Papa, and younger brothers.

“Rem, it’s okay, baby.” Patton’s brow creases at the moisture in Remy’s eyes, but that’s a conversation for later, without the prying eyes and ears of his brothers. “Take off the thinking cap for now. Virge,” Patton smiles gently at his oldest son, sulking in the doorway and clearly exhausted from playing baby wrangler after a full day of school. “Touch or no touch?”

“...Some is okay.” Virgil pushes off of the doorframe and crosses to Patton’s side of the bed; Patton sits up with Roman and crosses his legs, and Virgil curls up with his head resting near Patton’s knee. Patton runs a hand through his hair, keeping Roman close with the other.

“Look at us. Like a sitcom family. We’re basically the Brady Bunch,” Remy quips, discreetly slipping on his signature sunglasses.

Patton would definitely talk to him later.

“Something like that.” Virgil sighs and closes his eyes, just letting himself breathe and trying to slow his pounding heart.

“I love it. I love this.” Patton smiles at each of his boys in turn. “I love each and every one of you.” Patton catches Remus’s half-lidded backward glance and gives him a smile and a wink. Seeming satisfied, Remus settles back against Logan, discreetly eyeing Roman in Patton’s arms.

“Hey, so not to ruin the moment.” Remy speaks up from his spot. “But why do you have a napkin stuck up your nose, Dad?”

“I was wondering the same thing.” Virgil pipes up.

“I was, too.” Logan mumbles from his chin’s resting place atop Remus’s head.

“What happened, Daddy?” Roman whispers against his neck, eyes fluttering closed as Patton rubs small circles between his shoulder blades.

“Daddy got a nasty bloody nose.” Remus declares with a yawn, traces of his typical self slowly returning. “There was blood just gushing everywhere.”

Three pairs of eyes turn to meet him incredulously, begging him to continue the story where Remus left off, but Patton just laughs quietly.

“....It’s a long story for another time.” Patton shrugs, meeting each curious gaze in turn. “It was worth it, though.” He meets Remus’s last, holding on for a few moments to let his words sink in. “I had to lose a little blood for a little healing to start, but I’m gonna be okay. We are gonna be okay.”

“Dramatic, but okay. Nosebleeds suck.” Remy cuts in, and Virgil pushes a weak kick in his direction. “And speaking of, no bullshitting, how did you get it?”

“Language, young man!” Remus lectures with a comically lowered voice, wagging a weak finger in his older brother’s general direction before turning onto his side and snuggling into his father for a pre-dinner nap.

“I’m following Remus’s lead.” Patton chuckles softly and carefully lays back with Roman, adjusting both of them before closing his eyes. A couple of snorts sound off when Virgil lets out an indignant grunt at having lost Patton’s hand in his hair, but Patton smiles when he feels his oldest shift and rest his head on his father’s thigh. “All of my heart in one bed.” Patton murmurs with a contented sigh.

“I sure hope so, otherwise you’d die.”

“Remus.” Three sighs and one breathy laugh usher the room into silence as the family relishes in a rare moment of peace, squabbles quietly forgiven and tensions quietly forgotten as they relax and heal together.

For the time being.

20 minutes later, Remus hears the mail truck approach and hurls himself off of the bed, nearly tripping as he runs down the stairs to show the mail carrier his impression of Reagan in The Exorcist. (No one knows how he found out about it; they all hate horror movies. Except for Remus, of course.)

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfic #thomas sanders fic #thomas sanders fanfic #remus #remus sanders #mine #tsfanfics #logicality #adoptionau

397 notes · View notes

moonlightkitkat · 5 years

Link

Marinette made sure that she got to school on time the next day, she was actually early for once. Chloe wasn’t in school yet, and she paused before she went to her seat. Looking at her old spot in front of Ivan, she grinned, quickly moving to her old seat.

Nino glanced back as Marinette moved, grinning and shaking his head in amusement. “Stealing Chloe’s seat?” He teased.

“Stealing?” she gasped, placing her hand over her heart in mock shock. “I would never! I’m simply taking back what was stolen from me!”

He laughed at that, holding up his fist to her, which she happily bumped. “Good, it’s about time that Chloe gets put in her place, which isn’t sitting behind me,” he chuckled.

Ivan walked into class, looking nervous, which she couldn’t blame him for at all. He hurried into his seat, and the few conversations that was going on, which were mainly by Rose and Juleka and Alix and Nathaniel, quickly were silenced. Turning around, she offered Ivan a small smile.

“Hey Ivan, how are you feeling?”

“Why, because I turned into a monster?” He grumbled, but he pulled out one of his headphones.

“Well..” she paused, not knowing how to respond to that.

“I’m fine Marinette. You don’t have to worry about me turning into a rocky Hulk again.”

She frowned at that, shaking her head. “I’m not worried about it Ivan. I know you, I know that I’m safe with you. It isn’t your fault for what happened.”

His expression softened, and he nodded. “Thank you Marinette.”

“You don’t have to thank me Ivan. I’m just glad you’re okay. If anyone tries to give you any trouble, just let me know, and I’ll tell them off.”

“If anyone gives you any trouble, me and Kim will make them pay!” Alix added, leaning over so she could pat Ivan’s back.

Jumping in surprise, Ivan turned around, looking back at Alix. A smile appeared for a moment, but then he sighed, shaking his head. “It’s Kim’s fault it happened..” he muttered.

Marinette had never seen Alix look so murderous before, not even when Kim took her hat and accidentally threw it into the Seine when he tried to throw it to Max as a Frisbee. “What do you mean?”

“Well.. he made fun of me yesterday..” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a piece of paper, one that she recognized as the one she ripped up, the one that the Akuma had possessed. So even the akumatized objects could be fixed by her Miraculous Ladybug, that was good to know.

Taking the paper, Alix quickly read over it, a low growl escaping her. “Once I get my hands on him… can I borrow this?” After she received a nod from Ivan, she pocketed the note, leaning back into her seat.

“Hey Ivan! Feeling better after yesterday?” Turning to the door, Marinette saw Alya wave to Ivan, not blinking at the seating change. Instead, she plopped into the seat next to Marinette like it was what she always did, turning around to face Ivan, resting her chin in her palm as she looked up at him.

“You know Ivan?” Rose asked.

“Yup! Ladybug asked me to make sure he was okay, so I walked him back. We talked for a while, and he let me interview him for the Ladyblog!”

“The Ladyblog? What's that?” Marinette asked curiously.

Eyes lighting up, she had her phone out faster than she could blink, quickly pulling up a site that Marinette was pretty sure was already open on her phone. “It’s my new blog! That superhero yesterday? She goes by the name of Ladybug, and she called her partner Chat Noir! I made a blog all about them! It only has two videos up right now, and it has a lot of work to do, but I know that it’ll be great!”

She’d made a blog? About Ladybug and Chat Noir?

“Why are you making it about them?”

“Because they're superheroes! It's something that only happens in books and comics and movies! Why wouldn’t I want to make a blog about it?” She laughed.

“That's true.”

“Excuse me.” A stern voice came from the front of the room. Turning around, Marinette wasn’t too surprised to see Chloe glaring at her from the doorway.

Gesturing to the open seats in the front, she smiled warmly at her. “You’re excused Chloe.”

The class went still, a small gasp coming from Rose. Her eyes narrowed, her lip curling into a snarl. "Do you want to try that again, Dupain-Cheng?”

Tapping a finger to her chin, she pretended to hum in thought. Smiling prettily at her, she shook her head. “No, I said what I meant. I’m taking my seat back, you can sit over there,” she gestured to her old seat.

“Looks like someone grew pretty brave, what happened Dupain- Cheng? Did four eyes over there put you up to it?”

“Her name is Alya,” she snarled, standing to her feet. “And no. I just decided that I’m tired of you bossing me around. I’m tired of you bullying me and everyone else in this class. So shove it Chloe, and I’m taking my seat back. This year is going to be different, and I refuse to let a bully control the class all over again.”

Chloe stared at her in disbelief, and opened her mouth to speak, but Felix walked into the room, Sabrina behind him. She was so relieved that Sabrina wasn’t here to hear the name Chloe called Alya. Felix sighed heavily as he looked between her and Chloe, shaking his head.

“It’s too early for this..” he muttered, sitting down in his seat behind Marinette.

A blond haired boy Marinette had never seen before walked into the room, and looked around. “Chloe?”

Eyes lighting up, Chloe’s anger immediately dissolved as she heard his voice, and she eagerly turned around, practically leaping into him as she wrapped her arms over his shoulders, kissing his cheek. “Adrikins!” she squealed. “You made it! I was so worried when you didn’t show up yesterday.”

Chuckling, Adrien hugged her back before stepping away. “Sorry Clo', my father still wasn't convinced about me going, and I had to wait a day to convince him. Plus the monster attack made him very hard to convince that it was safe to go.”

Turning to the class, Chloe cleared her throat. “Peasants, this is Adrien Agreste, son of Gabriel Agreste. He’s the most handsome model in all of Paris, and he’s MY best friend!” she boasted, hugging his arm possessively. Adrien cracked a bashful smile, cheeks flushed pink.

“Clo', that's sweet really, but it isn’t that impressive. I’m here to go to school, not scare them all off by the title.”

“You’re too humble Adrikins, its adorable. Come sit next to me, I saved you a seat!”

Sabrina was already sitting in the seat next to where Chloe was, and she froze. The ginger looked up with a sad smile, and Marinette felt so bad for her. Apparently the class agreed, because a few hushed whispers of ‘poor Sabrina’, went around the room.

Adrien looked at Sabrina, and shook his head. “Go ahead and sit next to your friend Chloe. Here, is anyone sitting here?”

His green eyes met Marinette’s, and it took her a moment to realize he was talking to her. “O-oh! Well Nino’s sitting in that one, but nobody’s sitting in the other one.”

Nodding, he flashed a way too pretty smile and sat down in the seat in front of her, looking up at Chloe. “See? This way we’re still sitting next to each other.”

Chloe looked like she wanted to comment on it, but Ms Bustier walked into the room, and so she slid into her seat.

“So what do you think of the new kid?” Alya whispered to her as they sat down for lunch, sitting on a bench by a window.

Pulling out her lunchbox, she shrugged, taking a bite of her sandwich. “He seems nice enough, but I dunno.. He’s friends with Chloe after all.” “What’s the deal with Chloe anyways?” “She’s been bullying Marinette since grade school,” Alix huffed, plopping down next to Marinette. “Then again, she’s bullied just about everyone here. Maybe now that pretty boy is here, she’ll behave.”

Sighing heavily, she leaned her head on the glass, looking out at the storm clouds as they passed over the school. “It’d be a miracle if that happened. Even if it doesn't, I’m not letting her boss me around anymore.”

“What got into you this morning?” Alix chuckled, elbowing her. “You’ve never been that direct before. I was shocked.”

She shrugged, looking back at her. “I guess seeing those superheroes yesterday gave me the courage to stand up to her. If two people can stand up to a rock giant, then i can stand up to Chloe, y’know?”

“Stand up to Chloe? What do you mean?” The three girls looked up at the new voice, surprised to see Adrien standing in front of them, an apple in hand. “Oh nothing-” Marinette started, only for Alix to quickly interrupt.

“Your friend happens to be the class bully. Marinette here,” she grinned, wrapping her arm around her shoulders. “Stood up to her today. We’re all really proud of her, y’know?”

“Chloe? A bully?” he gasped, looking over at the blonde in disbelief. “I know that she can be a little mean sometimes, but a bully? That's a bit much, don’t you think?”

“Are you calling Marinette a liar? You can ask anyone in this school Agreste, I’m afraid that your friend is not nearly as kind or sweet as you may think she is,” Felix said coldly, walking up from behind him.

“Are you going to tell me that she’s been bullying you too?” Adrien crossed his arms, looking at him skeptically.

“Hardly. I don’t give that girl the time of day, but i'm afraid that others aren’t as lucky.”

Adrien opened his mouth to reply, but Chloe called him over, and he sighed. “It.. was nice talking to you all,” he offered before heading back to Chloe and Sabrina.

The four of them sighed as he left, and Marinette looked up to Felix curiously. “Why did you come and stand up for me?”

For the first time, Felix looked at her. His grey eyes looked her over for a moment, before looking away. “I was just passing by. Agreste tends to be.. oblivious at the best of times. Not to mention, your friend there looked ready to pounce, and that would not have ended well. Enjoy your lunch.” Bowing his head, he walked out of the cafeteria, leaving the three girls curious and a little confused.

The first one to speak was Alix. “He’s weird.”

Alya snorted at that, leaning forward so she could look past Marinette and see the smaller girl. “You got that right. Something tells me that this will be an interesting year. First superheroes, then Chloe and Adrien. At least it won't be boring.”

At the end of class, Marinette walked out of school later than everyone else. She had needed to grab some things, and remembered that she’d forgotten to give Tikki something to eat. Thankfully, the Kwami was just napping, still tired from her first adventure in ages. She gently placed a cookie in her purse for when she woke up, and grabbed her umbrella.

The storm had definitely begun, thunder rolling in the distance. Thunder meant Lightning, and she really wasn’t a fan of lightning. She waited at the front of school, a little nervous to step out into the open, afraid that at any moment, lightning would strike and she’d be toast.

“Are you alright?”

Jumping, she turned to look up at the owner of the voice, meeting Felix’s grey eyes. He held an umbrella, but wasn’t stepping out into the storm either. “O-oh! Yeah, I’m fine. Just..”

“Scared of storms?” he guessed. She offered a small nod before looking down at the now wet steps in front of them.

“I don’t mind storms when I’m inside, but being outside is a very different thing…”

“I can understand that. Truthfully, I don’t like getting wet.”

She chuckled at that, and looked up at him again. “Is that why you aren't stepping out into the rain, even though you have an umbrella?”

“That is precisely why,” he agreed. “Besides, my sister is coming to pick me up. We live a bit farther away, and she always picks me up when it rains.”

“You have an older sister?”

“I do. She graduated already, and works at a nearby cafe.” “Oh, well its nice that shes picking you up!” “I suppose so. Don’t you live nearby?”

Nodding, she pointed to the bakery, which was just down the street. “I do, but..”

“You’re scared of storms and don’t want to head outside,” he guessed.

“Exactly..”

The two stood there for a while, watching as the rain fell. Lightning flashed a few times, and the thunder grew louder as the storm grew closer.

A black car rolled up, and Felix pulled up his umbrella. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow Marinette.”

“Bye Felix!” she waved, watching him step out into the rain and head to the car.

“Maybe I should head inside to the library,” she muttered to herself, glancing back to the school. The library should be open for another hour right? Maybe the storm would pass by then..

She turned to walk inside, only to hear Felix call out to her. Looking back at him, she saw him walking up the steps, stopping in front of her. “My sister wanted to know if you would like a ride, considering its so close and all.”

Eyes lighting up, she smiled and nodded her head eagerly. “Really? That would be great! Thank you so much Felix!”

“Thank my sister, not me,” he chuckled, turning to head back to the car.

Opening her umbrella, she quickly followed after him, only to slip on the wet steps. Shrieking, she started to fall forward, only for Felix to quickly turn around and catch her, stumbling back on the steps and steadying her. His hands grabbed onto her wrists, and he pulled her close so he could steady her.

“Are you okay?” he asked worriedly, looking up at her.

“Y-yeah, I’m..” she looked down into his eyes, pausing for a moment. Lightning flashed a few blocks away, and she shrieked, moving closer to him as she tried to scurry into the car.

“Hey it's alright,” He said softly, helping her to the car. She sat down in the seat, taking in a deep breath as she relaxed into the seat, shutting the car door behind her. Felix went to sit in the passenger seat. “Marinette, this is my sister Melodie.”

Melodie had long blonde hair, more gold than Felix’s pale blonde hair. She was tanner than he was, and it was hard to believe that the two were siblings, considering how pale he was compared to her. She turned around to smile at Marinette, and Marinette couldn’t help but smile back. Her smile was warm and infectious, and she happily waved to her.

“Nice to meet you Marinette!”

“You too! Thank you so much for the ride, it means a lot to me.”

“Oh no need to thank me, it was Feli here who asked if I could give you a ride,” she chuckled, pulling the car past the school. “Since your place wasn’t too far, and since he promised to do the dishes to night, I figured I’d say yes.”

Even though she was sitting behind him, she could see the tips of Felix’s ears turn pink, and he shot a glare at his sister. “I made no such promise,” he hissed under his breath.

“Yeah I know,” she laughed, reaching over to tussle his hair, receiving an offended noise from him as he slapped her hand away. Marinette couldn’t help but laugh at the two’s antics, and before she knew it, they were in front of the bakery. “Thank you again for the ride!”

Stepping out of the car, she waved to them as they drove off, and couldn’t help but wonder… Did Felix really ask his sister to give her a ride, or did Melodie make that up to embarrass him too?

Heading inside, she sighed happily at the warmth of the bakery, heading upstairs since her parents were busy with customers. Tossing her umbrella into the bin, she went up to her room to change into warm pajamas. Pajamas during a storm was always the best thing, especially if there was hot chocolate involved.

“Tikki, do you like hot chocolate?” she asked curiously as she set her bag down. The little kwami flew out of her purse, stretching and yawning softly. “What’s that?”

Gasping, she looked at Tikki in disbelief, heading to the kitchen to make some hot chocolate for them. “Trust me, you're going to love it.”

Tikki sat on the counter as Marinette made the hot chocolate, watching patiently as she worked. “So who was that? The boy in the car?”

“Who, Felix? I’m not sure really. I’ve seen him in school before, but we’ve never been in the same class.”

“He seems nice, are you two going to be friends?”

She shrugged, filling a small container with hot chocolate for tikki. “I’m not sure, maybe? I mean, he does sit behind me, so it would be nice to be friends with him.” she cut off a small piece of a marshmallow, placing it in Tikki’s cup, as well as a small amount of whipped cream. She set the tiny thing down for her, sipping from her own cup and sighing contentedly.

Tikki sniffed the drink curiously, and took a bite out of the whipped cream. She squealed at the taste, and happily drank the rest. Before Marinette knew it, the drink was gone, and Tikki was holding the cup up for more. Chuckling, she poured some of her own drink into it, shaking her head in amusement.

“I’ll make a bigger drink for you next time,” she promised.

Giggling, Tikki sipped her drink a little slower, wanting to savor the drink. The two headed up to Marinette’s room, where she plopped onto her chaise.

“So Marinette, what do you like to do?” Tikki asked, sitting down on her pillow. Marinette made a small mental note to make Tikki a bed and little furniture for herself.

“Well, I really like to sew! I like designing, and I’m really into art.”

Tikki’s eyes lit up at that, and she poked a paw at her shirt. “Did you make this too?”

“Yup!” she smiled happily. “I like to make my own clothes. My parents do buy me clothes though, because sometimes that's just easier to do. Other times, we’ll go shopping for fabrics so I can sew when I get home. It’s easier to make what I like to wear, not have to worry about stores not having anything that I like or not.”

“That makes sense. Does that mean you want to be a designer when you grow up?”

“I do! I really do.. One day, I want to be a well known designer, and design for celebrities and other people! I want to have my own boutique, filled with all of my designs!”

“That sounds wonderful Marinette, I hope that you can get your boutique when you're older,” Tikki smiled, finishing her drink.

“Me too Tikki.. Me too..”

A flash of black outside of her window caught her attention, and Marinette looked outside, seeing Chat Noir running around on the rooftops outside. Tikki flew up to her, and chuckled.

“I’ve never seen one of Plagg’s chosen's who liked getting wet,” she giggled. “Usually they all hate water just as much as he does! Want to go out and see what he's up to?”

She smiled at that, and nodded. It’d be nice to see her partner again, especially since they hadn’t had a chance to talk after the battle. “I think that's a great idea. Tikki, Transform me!”

She swung after Chat Noir, calling out to him as she neared. His black kitty ears perked up, and he stopped on a rooftop, turning to face her with a warm smile. “Ladybug! I was wondering if I’d get a chance to see you today.”

Stopping next to him, she returned the smile, setting her yo-yo on her hip. “Well wonder no more. What’re you doing out in a rainstorm? I thought kitties didn’t like getting wet,” she teased, crossing her arms.

His belt-tail flicked back and forth in amusement, and he shrugged. “I figured I needed to get more practice in as Chat Noir, y’know?” “I get it, we didn’t really get a chance to talk the other day either. Did Plagg tell you about your power?”

His smile fell at that, and he shook his head, sighing. “No.. he hasn't.. Did your Kwami tell you anything?”

She nodded her head. “Tikki told me that you have Cataclysm.”

“Cataclysm?” he jumped as black smoke surrounded his right hand, looking at it in surprise. “Whoa,” he grinned, turning his hand back and forth to watch the black smoke fall and follow his movement. “What does it to?”

Looking around, she found a discarded cup on the ground, and quickly grabbed it, hopping back up to where he was. “Here, catch.”

She tossed him the cup, and when he touched it with the blackened hand, the cup shrunk in on itself before dissolving into ash. The smoke vanished from his hand again, and he stared at the ash in his hand in awe before letting it fall to the ground. “I can destroy whatever I touch?”

Eyes sparkling with excitement and mischief, he lowered himself to one knee on the roof, facing the gutter. “Cataclysm!” He slammed his hand onto the gutter, but it just made a loud bang, not doing anything. His face twisted in confusion, and he looked up at Ladybug in confusion.

Chuckling, she shrugged. “You only get to use it once. After that, you have five minutes before you detransform.”

As if on cue, his ring started to beep, and they saw one of the pads on the paw go black. “Oh! Your miraculous is a ring?” she asked excitedly, taking his hand and pulling it up for her to see.

He quickly yanked his hand out of her grip, and she froze, perplexed by that reaction. “O-oh, sorry.. I just.. I thought that you’d get..” He trailed off, holding onto his wrist.

She relaxed at that, nodding her head. “That’s okay. I just wanted to look at the ring.. Sorry I got excited.”

“N-no, its okay,” he offered a small smile. “Here, you can look at it.” He held out his hand for her to look at the ring. Gently taking it, she looked down at the ring, studying it.

It was a plain looking black ring, the only noticeable thing about it was that there were bright green paw pads in the center of it. It made sense that it wasn’t too fancy, since he’d have to wear it every day. She let go of his hand after a moment, letting him pull it back to his side.

“So why did you leave so early yesterday? When I finished taking care of the Akuma, you were gone.”

“Oh, I didn’t think you were gonna come back,” he admitted. “When you took off, I just went home, I figured that you took care of the Akuma.”

That made sense, and she relaxed a little at that. “How did you know about Akuma’s anyways? Tikki didn’t even tell me about that.”

He chuckled at that, running a hand through his hair. “I will never give up my secrets M’Ladybug,” he teased, bowing to her. His ring beeped again, and he glanced at it. “Looks like I should head back. Should we meet up again tomorrow?”

“For what?”

“I dunno.. Maybe just to talk again? I'll meet you at the Eiffel tower okay?”

Grinning, he waved to her before dashing off. Ladybug huffed at that, crossing her arms. “I never agreed you know!” she yelled after him before heading back to her house.

She transformed when she got back into her room, sighing softly. “I feel like I haven’t learned anything more about him,” she mumbled, flopping onto her chaise.

“He does seem to like being mysterious,” Tikki agreed, settling down on the pillow next to her. “But he isn’t the first holder of the black cat miraculous to be like that.”

“There were former miraculous holders? Wait.. are there others?” she asked curiously, turning her head to look over at her.

“There were many holders before you. I can't tell you much about the miraculous themselves.. But I’ll try to answer whatever questions you have.”

That was great to know… but she had no idea what questions she would even ask..

“Thanks Tikki. Well, it looks like Alya was right at least..”

“About what?”

“This year is definitely not going to be boring.”

#Felinette #Restart #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #felix #ml fic #ML

103 notes · View notes

trufflerabbit13 · 4 years

Text

A Dove’s Ripped Wings: Chapter 2| Scars

prologue / 1 / 2 /

Word Count: 6.3 k

A/N: Cross posted between wattpad and AO3.

🏐🏐THIRD PERSON P.O.V.🏐🏐

"Ibato-san!"

Chiaki looked up from organizing her textbook in surprise as a voice called to. Her soft gaze lands on one of her female classmates who stands near the door.

"The second year senpai from yesterday is here for you again!"

Chiaki's face visibly brightens as she grabs her crutches and lunchbox, making her way to the door. The teen can't help but flash Daichi a smile, ignoring the curious gazes she received from her fellow classmates.

"Hi, here let me help you," Daichi returned her smile with a boyish grin, taking her lunchbox out of her hand to make it easier for her to walk with her crutches.

It doesn't take long for the two to go to their usual place at the back of the school garden, spreading out their lunch. The unlikely friendship between Daichi and Chiaki had bloomed over the last two weeks. The two spent their morning and lunch together, enjoying the others company with mundane conversations. Although Chiaki does admit, Daichi did most of the talking, she only added in some of her thoughts when she deemed it worthy.

Chiaki liked Daichi's presence. He was a gentle male, watching and listening to her silently whenever she did speak. It didn't take her long to realize Daichi reminded her of her eldest brother, Minato a bit. There was something extremely warm and calming about him, and Chiaki subconsciously gravitated towards him. When beside him, she felt at ease, just as she would with family.

And Daichi was respectful. Chiaki sometimes almost wondered if he had some kind of radar in his head that warned him of conversations that could potentially make her uncomfortable. He would skillfully and smoothly change the topic whenever he did realize that she didn't want to talk about it, much to her relief.

Daichi never bought up her past. And Chiaki greatly appreciated it. However, she also noticed that volleyball was a significant part of his school life.

While he did try to avoid the topic of the volleyball with her, it was a bit hard when his life basically revolved around the sport. His closest friends at school were his teammates. He was in the gym practicing or hanging out with his teammates if he wasn't in lectures.

Chiaki couldn't blame him. Instead, she decided she liked it when Daichi spoke about volleyball. A lot of times, the dark-haired male would reveal his struggle with his skills and techniques. In response, Chiaki would gently give him some advice, which he intently listened to, sometimes even noting them down.

One thing that did trouble Chiaki was that Daichi always invites her to visit volleyball practice after school. At this point, she almost felt bad politely declining the invitations because he did it so diligently every single day they had lunch together. Luckily, at the current moment, she had the excuse of having her physical therapy session with her mother after school. While there was no harm in pushing the meeting an hour back, Daichi doesn't have to know that.

And Chiaki was also quick to find out the fastest way for the older boy to drop the specific topic. As long as she says one of her older brothers were picking her up, Daichi would promptly shut up, looking a few shades paler, a shiver running down his back.

While Chiaki did feel a bit bad, it seemed that the twins did their damage when she had failed to stop them from rushing to the door when Daichi picked her up one morning a bit earlier than usual. From what she knows, Taiga and Kouga had given the poor boy a earful of warnings that made Daichi more cautious around her, much to Chiaki's dismay.

"You have chemistry after lunch, right? I don't know how you do it. If it was me, with a full stomach and a hard topic, I wouldn't be able to keep my eyes open," Daichi grimaced as he walked beside the teen, matching his walking speed with her.

Chiaki couldn't help but release a small giggle at the face of disgust he made. "I like chemistry, it's not too bad."

At her comment, Daichi's face twisted to horror, looking a bit betrayed and disgusted. He opens his mouth to say something, but before he could, he gets cut off by a hand slamming into his back, a small spluttered choke leaving his mouth.

Chiaki blinks, her lips parting in surprise as her friend gets attacked by a boy with silver hair a few shades darker than her own.

"Daichi, you sly dog! This is where you've been disappearing off to during lunch! Eating with a girl!" The boy exclaims as he continues to slam Daichi's back, the said male wincing at each smack.

"S-Suga! Ouch! Cut it out!" Daichi winces, successfully dodging the last smack before sending Chiaki an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Aki-chan. This is—"

Once again, Daichi is cut off by a body smacking into his side, a head slamming into his right ribs, a pained groan leaving his mouth as he doubles over. "Daichi-san! How could you! Going off to eat with a cute girl, leaving us!" A short male with the small part of his bangs bleached to a dirty blond cries out.

"Yeah, Daichi-San! This is the utmost betrayal you could do!" A tall male with a shaved head joined in, grabbing onto Daichi and shaking him.

Chiaki watched everything unfold in silence. What in the world... Her gaze moved to another male who stood back, looking lost, not knowing what to do with the chaos of Daichi getting bombarded by three people. The man was tall and broad, with his dark hair tied in a bun at the back of his head. He looked tough. However, Chiaki had a feeling he wasn't really that seeing as he looked bewildered, being at a loss what to do. Their eyes briefly meet, and Chiaki was able to detect hesitance and unease in his gaze before he worried turned his attention back to his friends.

But it seems like neither Chiaki nor the man has to do anything as Daichi stopped everyone with an angry, "hey!"

All three males that flocked around him froze, a look of nervousness appearing in their eyes as a disheveled Daichi glared at them. Before the dark-haired male opens his mouth to begin scolding them, they squeak out a quick, "sorry!" shuffling back, placing a reasonable distance away from the annoyed male.

Daichi pinched the bridge of his nose, briefly closing his eyes. The tall man with the tied hair stepped forward, eyeing Daichi with concern, "you okay there, Daichi?" He asked, checking up at the male who looked suddenly exhausted.

Daichi waved him off with a hand before reopening his eyes, looking at Chiaki with a frown. His gaze softened on her, a penitent look on his face for a brief moment.

"Sorry about that, Aki-chan," Daichi is quick to apologize, sending a stink eye at his friends. "My uh, friends can get a bit rowdy, but I swear they're not bad people."

Chiaki can't help the small smile that makes it onto her face as Daichi defends his friends. "It's okay, Daichi-senpai, these must be your teammates you talked about," she assures, glancing at the males that crowd around her.

Hearing the silver-haired girl's words, the boys all perked up, their eyes shining brightly as they looked at Daichi before moving their gaze back at her.

The grey-haired boy blinked in awe while the two other boys beside him froze, staring at Chiaki with their mouth parted in wonder. "Wow! Now getting a closer look at her, she is really pretty!" He comments, a wide grin spreading across his face.

At his words, Daichi narrows his eyes to his friend in warning before deciding to introduce her to them. "This is Ibato Chiaki-chan, a first-year, in class five. Aki-chan, the guy with grey hair, is Sugawara Koushi, and the big guy who looks terrified behind him is Azumane Asahi. They're both second years with me."

Chiaki nods in understanding, quickly observing the two males and inputting their name and appearance into her mind. After a moment, she looked at Sugawara with a small smile spreading on her face. This makes the said male blush, not knowing how to exactly react.

"We match."

Sugawara's mouth parted in confusion, his eyebrows furrowing. Chiaki was able to read his reaction, a small giggle escaping her lips. Balancing herself on her crutches, she pointed to the little beauty mark under her right eye. This makes Sugawara raise his own hand to touch his own beauty mark under his left eye.

"Also, our hair."

Realizing what Chiaki was pointing out, Sugawara's cheeks flushed for unknown reasons, becoming flustered. He looked away from Chiaki, his hand coming up to cover his lower face, refusing to meet her eyes.

Daichi coughed once, bringing attention to himself as he pointed his thumb back at the two other males who were uncharacteristically being quiet. "Aki-chan, those two, Tanaka and Nishinoya are also first-years, so they're the same age as you."

Chiaki follows her friend's gaze to see him eyeing the two frozen teens. From her past conversation with Daichi, she was quick to decide that the smaller male was Nishinoya seeing as he had mentioned him being the libero a handful of times. Which left the male with a buzz cut to be Tanaka.

"Wait, Daichi. You said her name was Ibato Chiaki, right...?" Asahi questioned hesitantly. With his words, Sugawara, who was flustered just a moment ago, reacts, a look of surprise and recognition flashing in his grey eyes.

This makes Chiaki nearly flinch, quickly realizing that the two second years probably figured out who she was. Their reaction makes her want to curl her body in, feeling a bit uncomfortable. Thankfully, it seems like her fellow first years are clueless, still blatantly staring at her in awe.

"Hey, Noya-San, don't you think if Kiyoko-san is a cold beauty, Chiaki-san is a warm beauty?" Tanaka whispered quietly to Nishinoya, who stared at Chiaki. The said male nodded with the agreement without moving his gaze that shined with wonder.

"You're the rumored beauty that finally showed up after summer break!" Nishinoya gasps in realization as he points his finger at the female who nearly flinched at the loudness of his voice.

Daichi moved to scold the short male. However, he stops as he notices Chiaki and Nishinoya stare at each other, a puzzled look appearing in their gaze as they simultaneously tilt their heads like a confused puppy.

After a moment, Chiaki nods to herself, realizing why she had recognized the male in front of her. "Oh. You're the one who got the best libero award last year," she offhandedly comments, making Nishinoya beam at her.

"And you're the captain of the girls' team who won in first place last year. Didn't 'cha also get the best server award too? Almost didn't recognize you with your hair dyed," Nishinoya comments brightly, seeming to be proud that he was able to remember who she was. However, a look of confusion appeared on his face as he rubbed at his chin. "But what are you doing here in Karasuno? I had expected someone at your level would go to some prestigious school like Shiratorizawa."

His words make Chiaki freeze, her body growing rigid. This doesn't get unnoticed by the second-years, Sugawara's hand shooting out to smack the back of Nishinoya's head quickly.

Chiaki forces herself to give the boys a weak smile. She turns her head to Daichi, slowly reaching forwards and taking her empty bento bag from the male's hand. "Thank you, Daichi-senpai. I'll head to the restroom before heading to class. I'll see you tomorrow."

While a small part of Daichi wants to argue, worried for his new friend, he doesn't push her. In response, he nods with a smile, muttering a quiet goodbye and watching her hobble off down the hallway.

When he could no longer see her anymore, he swiftly turned around, glaring at the boy who rubbed his head where Sugawara had hit him. "Nishinoya!"

The said boy flinches, looking at his upperclassmen in fear and confusion.

Sugawara shakes his head, his finger pressing into his temple. "You're an idiot, Nishinoya."

Nishinoya releases a yelp as he dodges a smack from Sugawara, "what did I do?!" The libero cries out.

Daichi sighs as he crosses his arm over his chest with a frown spread across his face. "You may have not meant it, but your words hurt Aki-chan, Nishinoya. Volleyball is a really sensitive topic for her."

The dark-haired male's answer makes both Nishinoya and Tanaka tilt their heads, an unmistakable question mark floating on top of their heads. This action only makes an irk mark appear on Daichi's face.

Asahi immediately steps in, a weak laugh leaving his lips, "maa maa. Let's calm down. We can't blame them, not everyone was up to date with the volleyball gossip. I'm not surprised that Tanaka and Nishinoya don't know about it."

"Gossip?"

Sugawara stepped forward, a small frown on his face. "It was on the news for a bit earlier in the year. The incident where a middle school student was run over by a motorcycle that was aiming for her team. Between those who played volleyball, it was called the 'war in heaven' or 'the dove hunt' incident."

Nishinoya and Tanaka quickly pursed their lips, finally having a reasonably good idea of who the injured middle school student was, the image of the female in crutches flashing in their mind.

A scowl made it onto Tanaka's face, his eyebrows knitting together, "what kind of stupid names are those anyways? It's extremely chuunibyou-ish (1)"

Sugawara pouted as the younger male blatantly made fun of the names. "There are different reasons, but Ibato Chiaki-san had various nicknames as a volleyball player. The two most well know where the Angel or the Dove. I'm sure hearing just that, you understand the reasoning as to why the incident was called 'the dove hunt.'"

Both Tanaka and Nishinoya nodded, getting the basic idea. "But what about the other name?" Tanaka questioned in curiosity, the group walking down the hallway, Daichi stopping at the vending machine.

The dark-haired male rolled his eyes as he picked out his drink, angering stabbing his straw into his milk. "It's ridiculous, really. I don't know if you're familiar with Christianity, but someone linked the incident with the religion and whatnot, saying Aki-chan was an angel that had her wings ripped from her. In my opinion, the incident is nothing like the mythology. Like Tanaka said, it really is chuunibyou-ish." Daichi's hand crushed the empty milk carton, his gaze moving to the two boys in a warning. "Either way, if I hear that you two cause any trouble to Aki-Chan..." The male doesn't even have to finish his words as the two boys straighten as they salute to their senpai in fear.

A silence falls over all of them until Nishinoya opens his mouth.

"Well, if she's a fallen angel, shouldn't her new nickname be the 'Devil?'" The libero cheekily comments, earning a smack from both Sugawara and Daichi, who scowled.

🏐🏐2011, SEPTEMBER🏐🏐

With a heaving chest and drenched shirt, Chiaki laid on the ground, pressing her heated cheek into the cold floor with a groan. The silver-haired female doesn't dare to move a single muscle, her body crying out in strain.

Besides the female, Kouga worriedly fanned his younger sister's body with his hand. Taiga, his older twin brother, went to get her a cold bottle of water.

"Good job, Chi-chan. Today marks the sixth month since your surgery. You're done for today. It looks like you're slowly gaining back function and muscles, which I am very proud about," Minako, who was jolting down her daughter's progress on a clipboard looked up briefly with a smile. "Starting tomorrow, I think we can forgo the crutches. But you're going to have to wear your knee brace all the time except when you take a shower and when you sleep. Just for precaution."

This information makes a smile bloom on the silver-haired teen's face. Mentally she cheers, saying goodbye to the dreadful crutches that have been haunting her for months.

"I don't want to be a killjoy, but don't strain yourself, Chi-chan. While you're mostly healed, I don't want you risking yourself. I say another five months have to pass for me to say you're perfectly healed from your injuries, and there's no worries. And physical therapy is still a must! Don't go running off, although I'm sure you want to," Minako warns, narrowing her eyes at her daughter when she sees Chiaki sheepishly look away from her.

With that, the older woman excused herself, having to go input Chiaki's data into the computer system, leaving her children to go to her office.

With the help of her brother, Chiaki sits up, leaning against Kouga as the male turns the TV on. At that moment, Taiga returns, the glassed male handing the bottle to Chiaki and ruffling her head affectionately.

"Ah, it looks like Shiratorizawa won for Miyagi prefecture again this year," Kouga comments as he runs his hand through his dyed locks of hair.

This makes Taiga chuckle, his eyes narrowing fondly as he watched the local news speak about the ranking of the school. "Coach Washijou must be delighted. That old man still sometimes appears in my nightmare, yelling at me," the brunet shakes his head with a frown.

Neither of the males seems to realize their younger sister had stayed unusually silent. Her grey orbs refusing to look at the TV where the Shiratorizawa team and its cheer squad is televised.

When Chiaki climbs up to her feet, the twins finally realize what they did, their skin paling a few shades. Kouga's lips stretched into a line, his teeth biting into the bottom flesh to stop himself from calling out after Chiaki, who walked off.

"Shit," Kouga curses under his breath, closing his eyes and angrily running his hand through his hair, messing it up.

Taiga has a similar reaction, the male pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a frown on his handsome face. "That was insensitive and stupid of us. We should have known it'll upset Chiaki talking about her dream school," the man mumbled in regret.

Chiaki stood under the sharp needles of the shower head water, her skin turning red from heat and irritation. The water pours over her head on high, beating and dripping down her body in steamy rivulets. Like the room, her mind is fogged up, dullness spreading through her body.

Closing her eyes, she sinks down to the floor. The tiles are icy cold, yet she doesn't flinch, too numb to feel anything. Opening her grey eyes, she stares as the enormous pink scar tissue that goes up the length of her knee. While no longer angry red and inflamed like it was right after the surgery, it was still unpleasant to see, a painful reminder of what had happened to her.

Chiaki's trembling fingers traced the scar in loath. An equally large, if not more prominent scar ran down her right hip and upper thigh. That too was healing nicely, the yellow and purple bruising that went down her whole leg from the reconstruction surgery gone for over four months. However, it felt like it was still there, the image of the bruises blooming around the scar imprinted into her mind. Just looking at what remained reminded her of how hideous it looked.

Hideous.

The teen lets tears slip out of her eyes, the salty droplets quickly getting washed off by the water from the shower, going down the drain built on the floor. All proofs of her pain and anger gets washed away. And that only makes the anger inside Chiaki's body to rise, boiling from deep inside of her.

In just a second, it felt like her whole life was stolen away from her. Her dream slipped through her fingers so quickly, and easily, Chiaki didn't know what to do. What can she do now when volleyball wasn't part of her life? What else did she have left? What worth did she have left?

From a young age, her goal was to get into her dream school, Shiratorizawa, graduate, and get into a division one team. She dreamed about going to the Olympics just like how her father had. She had always believed that her adult life would revolve around volleyball, the sports she loved. It was something that was right in front of her. It was something that was promised to her at a young age because of the efforts she made. It was something everyone around her believed would happen.

Yet with the accident, everything that was set up for her had crumpled. The hours of practice, the tears and sweat that was poured, the stinging aches of her hand from practicing spikes, everything was wasted and went down the drain.

In just a measly second.

Chiaki had lost everything she built from plain hard work and dedication. But now she was lost.

And it hurt.

It hurt so fucking bad, she didn't know what to do anymore.

Chiaki finally climbed back up to her shaky legs, shutting the scorching hot water off. Her skin was red, but she paid no mind, wrapping her body in a towel, doing a horrific job of drying herself off and changing into clothes that were free from sweat.

What Chiaki wasn't expecting when she steps out of the locker room was to see her mother leaned against the wall, a cup of coffee in her hand. The older woman stares at her daughter, taking note of her eyes that are rimmed red. She doesn't comment on it. Instead, she just sips out of her cup.

"I told the boys to head home ahead of us. You'll be coming home with me. But before that, Chi-chan, you're gonna learn about basic first-aid."

Chiaki's eyebrows furrowed, not understanding what her mother was trying to do. "I don't think—"

"Chi-chan, you're lost right now, aren't you? The future you had planned isn't something you can achieve anymore, so now you don't know what to do."

Minako's words make the silver-haired girl freeze, shifting on her feet uncomfortably. Minako may have looked soft and gentle, being shorter than her own daughter. But she was blunt to the point where it hurts, often leaving people whiplashed by the gap between her appearance and personality. Chiaki knew her mother didn't mean any harm. Although there's no denying Minako's words was a knife straight to her heart.

Minako released a sigh as she pushed off the wall. "I understand you're still in pain and denial. But there's no point moping around. You should start looking at other things. It doesn't have to be medicine, I just want you looking at options, find something you might be interested in. The basic first-aid certificate is easy, and it can lead up to other opportunities. Your brothers all have it as well. And it's a skill that comes in handy for anyone."

Chiaki doesn't exactly want to. However, seeing the look her mother sends her, she can do nothing but to nod.

🏐🏐2012, MARCH 🏐🏐

"We look ridiculous," Kouga comments, pulling the onyx face mask he wears higher onto his face. At his words, Chiaki turns to her brother, letting her gaze wander over what he wears.

The female adjusts the white cap that covers her head, pulling down on the visor, "I think you look fine. Very fashionable," she comments, her voice a bit muffled by the cloth of the mask that covers her face.

Kouga rolls his eyes before moving his attention to his twin brother, who was the only one out of them, not wearing a face mask. Instead, Taiga wore a bucket hat that covered most of his brown hair, forgoing his usual black-rimmed glasses with contacts.

"You look fine, Kouga. A lot of people wear face masks during this season anyways," Taiga assured as he held hands with Chiaki. Kouga huffed and took hold of Chiaki's other arm, linking arms with her as the three walked through the crowded stadium.

There was a light skip to Chiaki's steps, the female smiling under her mask. Her girls had done an excellent job, collecting their victories against their opponents. Chiaki could feel her heart swell in pride, especially when she was able to see Misaki do her role as the libero, supporting the team as it's pillar just as Chiaki assumed she would.

She lets her older brothers lead her to the next court scheduled for the last Kitagawa Daiichi game, the three siblings picking a seat at the back of the observation stand where they would be away from curious eyes. Although Chiaki had a feeling that they were failing at it miserably seeing the curious looks they received from some middle schoolers.

She couldn't really blame them, seeing as her brother and her towered over most of them. She had even caught some girls whispering and giggling as they looked at the twins. Chiaki didn't mind as long as she and her brothers weren't noticed by Kitagawa Daiichi middle school, her former school.

Earlier that morning, when Chiaki had told her brothers she wanted them to drive her to the stadium so she could watch the middle school volleyball tournament, they were shocked. They had doubted their ears for a moment, actually asking her to repeat her request again. When they realized they heard her right the first time, they were stumbling, running around the house to get ready to go with her.

Chiaki could tell they were delighted, which actually made her chest twinge, a small ounce of her feeling awful because she knew she had been worrying her family. The twins, on the other hand, were delighted that Chiaki wanted to do something related to volleyball again. Ever since the accident, Chiaki had refused to talk about the sport, and it was the first time she had even talked about something related to it.

So neither males complained as they drove their baby sister to the stadium, the two twenty-one-year-old adults wrapped around the sixteen-year old's finger.

"Who are the boys against next?" Kouga asked as he placed his feet up on the empty seat in front of him, relaxing with his arms thrown up behind his head and stretching out like a cat.

Taiga opened the pamphlet he grabbed when they first walked in, "Yukigaoka Junior High. I've never heard of them before," the brunet comments, pulling his hat a bit up to glance at his sister.

Chiaki hums with her eyes on the court, where it was still empty. "I know the girls' team. But for the boys, I don't think they participated during the time I was in middle school," the silver-haired teen comments, playing with a piece of her dyed hair. Her eyes brighten, sitting up as she sees a group walk in onto the court, her eyes catching sight of her former kouhais.

When she sees Kageyama walks in at the end of the group, she can't help but feel her heart swell. While she can't see well from her position, the raven-haired boy looked taller than the last time she saw him. While Chiaki did think she had a good relationship with everyone in the boys' volleyball team, she admits she had a particular soft spot for Kageyama.

She had often stayed after practice to meet up with the boy, helping him with his volleyball skills. She often spiked the balls he tossed, giving him advice on how to improve them and make them faster and more efficient. If she recalled correctly, that had angered Oikawa greatly, the male leaving snarky comments of how prodigies like them stuck together. Which led to Iwaizumi smacking his best friend, calling him 'Kusokawa.'

After a bit, with both teams on the court, the game begins. And it doesn't take long for everyone watching to see it was almost a one-sided match.

"Yikes, I feel bad just watching. The opponent team barely has the experience, huh?" Kouga winces as the Yukigaoka team misses another point.

Taiga silently watches the game while Chiaki also releases a sound as she sucks in a breath. The female can't deny it is almost painful to watch, her heart going out to the opponent team. At the same time, she eyed the Kita-Ichi team in concern, feeling something off.

"There's some kind of tension between the team for Kita-Ichi as well. Or I should say, more so with the team and Tobio-kun," Taiga finally speaks, his eyes narrowing. Hearing her older brother verbally say it, it confirmed what Chiaki was thinking.

Kouga sits up in surprise, squinting his eyes to see what his twin was talking about. But he's quick to give up, knowing both his siblings were more observant than what he was. The silver-haired male almost seemed to lose interest in the game, only watching it with a lazy eye seeing the results already. However, the Ibato siblings all sat up in surprise as one of the boys, an orange-haired male from Yukigaoka, leaped into the air.

"Holy shi—that shrimp has some pairs of legs, although he's short!" Kouga gasps, straightening up to get a better glimpse.

Chiaki bit her lip, her finger tapping against her knee as she watched the said boy leap once more. "His reflex speed is super high as well..."

At her words, the twins turn their heads towards her. They're a bit taken aback, not expecting her to leave input, seeing as she was mostly quiet when watching volleyball games.

"That kid, the boy with orange hair. With proper training that utilizes the talents and skill he has, he would have extreme potential. It's kinda scary," Chiaki comments with a frown, a chill running down her back. She blinks in surprise. What was that?

The twins stared at their baby sister in alarm, letting her words sink into their heads. Their gaze shifted back to the court, eyeing the boy she was talking about with narrowed eyes.

If Chiaki said it, they believed it. The brothers and the whole Ibato family knew that their youngest family member had a keen skill of finding the hidden potential in people. Sometimes it was so scary accurate.

In the past, on multiple occasions, Chiaki had just looked at a group of amateur volleyball players and pointed out a few saying they would grow strong. And much to Hiroto, their father's astonishment, they indeed had, many of them climbing up and becoming part of his current team at Schweiden Adler.

To this day, the twins know their father sometimes asks Chiaki for her option when he's recruiting new players for the season.

"I'm going to the restroom before we leave," Chiaki quietly tugged at Taiga's sweater sleeve as the game concluded, Kitagawa Daiichi becoming the winner with 2:0.

The older male looked at her in concern, "want me coming with you?"

Chiaki shakes her head, "it'll be crowded. Wait here with Kouga-nii," she softly speaks before walking off to the nearest restroom. With her hat tugged down, she walked the crowded area, many teams leaving for the day after their games.

A small gasp leaves her mouth as a body hits her from behind, making her lose her balance and fall forward. Her hands and arms instinctively come up to soften her fall. However, before she can land onto the floor, a pair of arms catch her, her face slamming into a warm chest. At the impact, Chiaki's nose smashes into the chest, tears gather at the corner of her eyes with pain.

"Wow, are you okay?"

Chiaki freezes at the familiar voice. She can't help but look up, her gaze meeting with a pair of soft brown eyes. Behind the said man, she recognizes two more faces looking at her in curiosity.

Daichi's lips part in surprise as a pair of droopy grey eyes look at him. Confusion flashed in his eyes, and Chiaki is quick to duck her head down, using the cap she wore to hide her eyes, silently hoping that her face mask hid her features enough.

Mumbling a sorry, she tries to slip away. However, before she can even take a step, her wrist gets engulfed by a giant hand, preventing her from walking away. Daichi has a firm grip on her, staring at her covered face with his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Aki-chan?"

Before Chiaki could deny it, Daichi reaches forward, swiftly tugging down the black face mask to her chin, revealing her face to his eyes. Chiaki sheepishly smiles as Daichi's eyes brighten, seeming to be pleased he was right.

Chiaki lifts the mask up quickly to hide her lower face again, giving up on leaving without a conversation.

"Huh? Aki-san is here too?" Tanaka gasps, his cheeks turning a rosy pink as he stands next to Daichi. Chiaki briefly gives both Sugawara and Tanaka a nod of greeting, the boys being able to see her eyes squint slightly telling them she was smiling.

The silver-haired female's gaze warily looks around the room, thankful that she didn't see any other familiar faces before turning to Daichi, who looked like he was itching to ask the question.

But it seemed Sugawara beat him to it, the grey-haired male smiling as he stood next to his classmate. "What are you doing here, Aki-chan?"

Chiaki turned to the male she had gotten to know over the last three months. After finding out that she and Daichi often ate lunch together, Sugawara also began to join in. Asahi had too, but in the last few weeks, he hadn't showed up, and Chiaki had a feeling something had happened between them all.

"I'm here with my brothers. I was about to head to the restroom before we head off," Chiaki quickly explains, her voice only a few volumes above a whisper, the three boys only being able to hear her because of how close she was standing to them.

Daichi raised an eyebrow up, sending a look to Chiaki that made her palms a bit sweaty. Chiaki had gotten to know Daichi reasonably well in the last six months. But that was the same for Daichi, he's gotten good at reading the younger girl. And he knew well that if volleyball was related, Chiaki ran away faster than you could say stop.

"You, Aki-chan, came to watch a volleyball game, huh?" Daichi questioned, grinning and showing off his teeth cheekily, much to Chiaki's dismay. The said girl kept her lips pursed as she refused to meet his amused eyes.

Sugawara and Daichi share eye contact with each other, both males grinning. Feeling a bit mischievous, Daichi patted the girl's head. "Yet, you refuse to come to watch us practice, Aki-chan. Are we not good enough for you?"

Chiaki pouts under her mask, but she still refuses to say anything.

"Hey, don't tease her too much, Daichi. Aki-chan loves volleyball, but she doesn't want to admit it because she's shy," Sugawara coos, making Chiaki send him a glare. Sugawara only laughs in response, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

Chiaki doesn't know how to answer, she feels a bit attacked at the moment as her two senpais tease her. She's getting a bit defensive, not liking how they were both able to read her. While Chiaki kept denying her love for the sport, these two seemed to know that wasn't the truth. And instead of tiptoeing around the topic of volleyball like they had when they first met, they've learned that little jabs didn't do too much harm.

With a puff, Chiaki turns to the males, her eyes narrowing. However, a mischievous glint flashes in her soft grey eyes as she thinks of something. "I need to go. I'm making my brothers wait right now, and they might worry if I'm gone for long. Of course, we can keep talking if you want them to come looking for me."

Daichi stiffens, his back straightening subconsciously as he finally lets her go. Inwardly, Chiaki laughs at the second-year's reaction and spin on her heel. But before she can leave, she turns back, the corner of her eyes crinkling as she smiles.

"See you guys at school," Chiaki waves sweetly, leaving one nervous male and two confused boys.

🏐🏐EXTRA🏐🏐

CANON

"Daichi-san, you're kinda pale. Are you okay?" Tanaka questioned, holding back his laugh, his shoulders shaking a bit. Sugawara doesn't bother holding it in, laughing with his whole body as he points to his friend.

Daichi scowls, his shoulder dropping as he ushers his teammates away from the scene with a light blush on his cheeks as they continued to tease him about him being scared of Chiaki's brothers.

"You don't understand," Daichi grumbled as he stopped walking, Sugawara and Tanaka pausing behind him in confusion, almost slamming into his broad back.

The two males flinch as Daichi slowly turns around, his face blank, his eyes looking dead as he stares at them.

"Imagine getting towered and cornered by two older guys who are over 190 cm (6'3 ft) as they mutter warnings to you for ten minutes. Warnings and promises that are extremely graphic if I do something to their little sister..." Daichi's voice was dead as he stared off to space.

Sugawara and Tanaka felt a shiver run down their back, suddenly feeling a chill. Flinching, they looked back as if someone was staring at them. They worriedly glanced at each other as they saw no one else on the street but them.

"Let's go home...." Sugawara whispered, grabbing Daichi's arm, the male mumbled something inaudible to their ears. Tanaka nods his head quickly before following after his senpais.

Silently, the two of them agreed that they didn't want to meet Chiaki's rumored older brothers anytime soon.

"ACHOO!" Chiaki flinches as both Kouga and Taiga simultaneously sneezed at the same time.

Taiga frowned as he rubbed his nose, his hands on the steering wheel of the car. "Oh, that was sudden," he mutters, making sure his eyes didn't move away from the road.

Kouga scowled and shook his head, "I swear, someone was talking about us," the silver-haired male grumbled much to Chiaki's amusement.

Terms:

Chūnibyō (中二病) is a Japanese colloquial term that translates to "middle two diseases," i.e., "middle-school second-year syndrome" or "eighth-grader syndrome," typically used to describe early teens who have delusions of grandeur, who so desperately want to stand out that they have convinced themselves they have hidden knowledge or secret powers. Creating crazy names and stuff included.

A/N:

Okay, first I know the timeline and months of the competition are all out of whack. I actually couldn't really work with it so I decided to change it around for the storyline. The Junior High athletics where Hinata and Kageyama meet for the first time should have taken place in June but I just made it near the end of March. So in this book, it happens after the 68th Miyagi Prefecture Championships. So Daichi, Sugawara, and Tanaka are at the Junior High Athletics Meet after loosing and the fight between Nishinoya and Asahi had already happened, which is the reason why those two were absent when the three boys met with Chiaki.

Also, Chiaki's nickname the Dove comes from her last name, Ibato. In Japanese Kanji, it'll be 衣鳩　the second kanji is "hato" which is a pigeon/dove! Hence her nickname the Dove. However, Ibato is not a very common Japanese last name.

Thanks for reading and the next update, Chapter 3| Does He Know? is in two weeks, on August 21st!

We're entering the story line of the anime/manga so be ready to see our favorite cute first years!!

-Ember

>>Next>>

8/7/2020

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donttellstiles · 4 years

Text

Pack Mentality

PACK MENTALITY

CH.3

unedited

♦♡♦♡♦♡♦♡♦♡♦

masterlist

Previous chapter --- Next chapter

(gif credit to owner)

''So you killed her?'' Stiles questioned his best friend as both him and Scott walked into school, though Stiles casually said it as if it was a normal question to ask.

''I don't know, I just woke up'' Scott replied, shifting his backpack on his back.

''And I was sweating like crazy, like I couldn't breathe. I've never had a dream were I woke up like that before'' Scott explains to Stiles in slight worry, wondering if this dream has anything to do with the new... supernatural development.

''Really? I have. Usually ends a little differently though'' Stiles being Stiles piped up, earning a look from his best friend.

''A, I meant I never had a dream that felt that real and B, never give me that much detail about you in bed ever again'' Scott glared over to Stiles as they continued to walk down the busy hallway.

''Noted. Let me take a guess here though''

''No I know, you think it has something to do with me going out with Allison tomorrow, like I'm going to lose control and rip her throat out'' Scott cut him off, staring straight ahead.

''No, of course not'' Scott turned to face Stiles and give him a look.

''Yeah, that's totally it'' Stiles confessed, Scott's head lulling down as both of them kept walking.

''Hey come on, it's gonna be fine, alright? Personally I think you're handling this pretty freaking amazingly. You know, it's not like there's a Lycanthropy for beginners class you can take'' Stiles continues.

''Yeah not a class but... maybe a teacher'' Stiles bit his lip in anger.

''Who, Derek?!'' He shouted, catching a few on lookers attention. Stiles clipped Scott over his head.

''Are you forgetting the part where we tossed him in jail?''

''Yeah I know, but chasing her, dragging her to the back of the bus, it felt so real'' Stiles sighed.

''How real?'' He asked.

''Like it actually happened'' Scott spoke up sadly. The both of them soon walk out the other double doors and both froze in their spots at what they saw. One of the school buses was covered in blood, the back door being half ripped as forensic units and police officers surround the scene.

''I think it did''

~*~*~*~*

''Allison! Have you seen my curling iron?'' I called out from the bathroom. I glanced up and down and searched all cupboards but nothing. I huffed before turning to leave to walk into Allison's room. She wasn't there so I decided to go into her bathroom to see if she had stolen it.

''You could at least ask to use my bathroom'' I smirked to my older sister but continued to rummage through her bathroom for the iron. I smiled in triumph once I found it tucked away underneath the sink.

''Aha!'' I whipped it out and looked over to Allison with a look.

''Technically it's mine'' I just rolled my eyes and walked past her, heading back to my bathroom to plug it in, waiting for it heat.

''Come on you piece of shit...'' I mumbled underneath my breath, noticing the curling iron was playing up.

''Ready to go?'' Screw it. I threw my hair into a low messy bun and walked out of my bathroom after turning off the power switch.

''Your hair...'' Allison commented as I walked down the stairs. I groaned and rolled my eyes.

''I think my curling iron is broken'' I huffed.

''You mean MY curling iron''

''Whatever'' We both laughed before hoping into her car heading, off towards school.

~*~*~*~*

I was too busy chatting to one of my friends when I hear a collision right beside me. With a frown I turn to the side to see both Scott and Allison on the floor, collecting her stuff.

''Clumsy on your feet are we, McCall?'' I sassed, now leaving my friends, which I was surprised I had made seeing it was like only the second day of school, to walk over towards your sister and her guy.

''Something like that'' Scott replies, glancing at me with a look I couldn't really decipher before turning to face Allison again.

''You okay?'' He asked. He was kinda sweet I guess, in a nerdy type of way.

''I'll see you at lunch girl'' Alex said before leaving my side, sending a smile my way.

''Okay'' I replied, ignoring the stares I was now beginning to receive from the school body, mainly the guys.

''Ugh boys are so disgusting'' I exaggerated a little, rolling my eyes at one guy who sent me a wink from across the hallway. Allison looked up at me and laughed while Scott just awkwardly smiled.

''Not all of them are'' She says, obviously referring to Scott. I rolled my eyes once again and glanced down at her and Scott who have now finished collecting her things neatly. They were looking into each others and smiling like idiots.

''I'm going to barf, see you in English'' I said before leaving their side. I took one last look back as I was walking and smiled softly. I'm glad she has someone.

I soon collided with something heavy and almost tripped in my heels when I felt hands quickly snake around my waist, keeping me upright. I turn to face the front and smirk once I saw who it was.

''Hey cutie'' I flirted, watching his cheeks go a crimson red, his arms soon leaving my waist,

''I'm s-so s-sorry, I -didn't-'' I smiled at him which seemed to catch him off guard.

''Relax, I'll live dork'' I rolled my eyes at him, probably making him grow more flustered. I quickly maneuver myself around him and headed over towards my locker.

~*~*~*~*

''She hates me'' Stiles was complaining to his best friend all the way towards lunch. Scott had zoned out after the first minute, not really believing he was talking about someone other than Lydia.

''Or... finds me cute I don't know, she's giving me mixed signals'' Scott sighed before speaking.

''She's Allison's sister dude, she doesn't hate you'' he completed as they made their way to Chemistry.

''How do you know? I mean, for the love of god this... Olive-skinned hottie doesn't even know my name-''

''Olive-skin hottie?'' Scott questioned with furrowed eyebrows and a small smirk.

''Yeah, as in tanned skin, cold as ice, perfect complexion, she has-'' Stiles rambled, taking his seat behind Scott.

''Okay stop, before my ears start to bleed'' Stiles glared at his best friend but dropped the subject.

''Okay well... what about last night?'' Scott sighed.

''That's the last thing I want to talk about right now'' Scott dropped his head.

After a few moments of silence Scott spoke up again.

''Maybe it was my blood on the door...'' Of course he was quiet so only Stiles could hear him.

''Maybe it's animal blood'' Scott turned around to face Stiles with a confused look.

''Maybe you caught a Rabbit and ate it'' Stiles suggested, twirling the pencil in his hand.

''Raw!?'' Scott answered in a 'really' tone.

''No, you stopped to bake it in your little werewolf over, I don't know, you're the one who can't remember anything!'' Stiles replied.

''Mr Stilinski, if that's your idea of a hushed whisper you might want to pull the headphones out every once in a while'' Mr Harris, their chemistry teacher spoke up in front of the class.

''Earphones...'' Stiles mumbled underneath his breath in annoyance.

''I think you and Mr McCall would benefit from a little distance, yes?'' Mr Harris spoke with his hands now on his hips.

''No'' Stiles argued. Harris pointed his fingers and Scott and Stiles sighed, picking up their things to move. Scott soon found himself sitting in front of Jackson. He felt himself beginning to tense.

''Hey, I think they found something!'' Scott ears perked up at the girl beside him as the class rose and all rushed over towards the windows. They all hovered around trying to see what was going on.

''That's not a Rabbit'' Scott spoke up, turning to face Stiles momentarily.

Once the man in the stretcher sits up and yells, everyone gasps and steps back from the window, Scott's eyes widening in realization.

''This is good, this is good'' Stiles tried to calm his friend down.

''He got up, he's not dead. Dead guys can't do that'' Stiles tried to soothe.

''Stiles, I did that''

~*~*~*~*

''But dreams aren't memories'' Stiles countered, walking with Scott hurriedly towards their lunch table.

''Then it wasn't a dream'' Scott said, placing his tray down on the table.

''Something happened last night and I can't remember what'' Scott continues, placing his back on the seat next to him as he sits down across from Stiles.

''What makes you so sure that Derek even has all the answers?'' Stiles asked, now sitting down himself.

''Because, during the full moon, he didn't change. He was in total control, while I was running around in the middle of the night attacking some totally innocent guy'' Scott replied.

''You don't know that'' Stiles bit back.

''I don't not know it'' Scott freaked. Scott glanced to the side and sighed sadly to himself.

''I can't go out with Allison. I have to cancel'' Stiles frowned at this.

''No you're not cancelling, okay? You can't just cancel your entire life. We'll figure it out'' Stiles encouraged, picking up his apple.

''Figure what out?'' I pipe up, hearing the end of their conversation. Cutie's eyes widened as I took a seat next to Scott, Allison sitting on the other side. Lydia took the one at the end of the table while Danny sat next to brown eyes.

''Just, uh, homework''

''Yeah'' I furrowed my eyebrows at their lame save but let it go, smiling over towards Jackson as he came over, sending a smile back.

''Get up'' Jackson spoke to the guy who was sitting next to Lydia.

''How come you never ask Danny to get up?'' The guy whines causing me to roll my eyes in annoyance. I open up my backpack and reach for my lunchbox, beginning to eat. I always hated cafeteria food since being served raw chicken at my third last school in Texas.

''Because I don't stare at his girlfriends coin slot'' I smiled at this and looked up to Danny as he sent me a friendly wink.

''So, I hear they're saying it's some type of animal attack?'' Danny spoke up, obviously referring to the school bus. During class we get an announcement over the P.A from the principle explaining in minimal details of what had happened last night.

''Probably a Cougar?'' Danny wonders aloud to the group.

''I heard Mountain Lion'' Jackson joins. I bow my head down and softly laugh.

''A Cougar is a Mountain Lion... isn't it?'' Lydia speaks, obviously acting dumb. Just another reason why I didn't like this girl.

''Who cares?'' Jackson spoke. I lent back in my chair and looked at the guy across from me who sat in between Danny and Cutie. He stared back and smirked, sending me a wink. I rolled my eyes in disgust and turned my attention away from him.

''The guy's probably some homeless tweaker who's gonna die anyway'' Jackson said without any sensitivity.

''Actually, I just found out who it is check it out'' Brown eyes spoke up, showing his phone to the whole group. I lent forward along with everyone else, watching the video clip.

''I-i-i know this guy'' Both Allison and I turned to face Scott confused.

''You do?'' the both of us spoke in perfect sync. Scott did a double take before continuing.

''Yeah, when I used to take the bus, back when I lived with my dad. He was the driver.'' I frowned and lent back in my chair.

''Can we talk about something more fun, please?'' Lydia spoke in boredom.

''Like, oh, where are we going tomorrow night?'' Lydia asks, turning to face Allison. I frowned and also faced her with my eyebrows furrowed.

Allison gulped on her water and slowly placed it back down in surprise.

''You said you and Scott were hanging out tomorrow night right?'' I gave Allison a 'really' look a she glanced my way before Lydia's.

''Um, we were thinking of what we were going to do'' Allison speaks nervously, glancing at Scott.

''Well, I am not sitting home again watching Lacrosse videos so if the five of us are hanging out, we are doing something fun''

''Five?'' I questioned, turning to face Lydia. She beamed at me and nodded her head.

''You're coming with us too silly'' I gotta give it to her, it did feel like she was being genuinely nice to me.

''Yeah I guess... sounds fun'' Allison still seemed on edge.

''You know what else sounds fun?'' Jackson asked rhetorically,

''Stabbing myself in the face with this fork'' Lydia quickly snatched it out of his had and gave him a stern look. I laughed softly again and glanced across the table.

I watch brown eyes roll his eyes as he drank causing me to smile and laugh slightly more. He looked my way and seem to choke on his water making me laugh more.

''How about bowling? You love to bowl'' Lydia speaks.

''Yeah, with actual competition'' Jackson replies.

''How do you know we're not actual competition?'' Allison sasses back at Jackson with a smile.

''You can bowl, right?" Allison turns to ask Scott. I glance away from cutie over to him, seeing his face drop.

''Sort of''

''Is it sort of, or yes?'' Jackson pushed.

''Yes, in fact, I'm a great bowler'' I had a feeling he wasn't and bowed my head once again, hoping this lunch was going to be over soon.

~*~*~*~*

''Mmm pass'' Lydia sighs, shaking her head. The three of us had been in Allison's room for the past hour watching her go through her clothes finding the perfect outfit for tonight.

''I can't believe I'm saying this but maybe you should wear something of Avery's'' Lydia speaks causing me to smile.

''Nawww, babe'' I mocked towards Lydia but the both of us laughed anyways. Allison just huffed and turned around to face her wardrobe with a frown.

''Okay, let me see'' Lydia stood up and walked over, deciding to go through the wardrobe once again.

''Mm pass, pass, pass, pass.. pass on all of it'' Lydia says as she goes through each top.

''God, Allison, respect for your taste it dwindling by the second'' I tried not to laugh at the whole scenario. Allison was always the better dresser out of the both of us so it boggled my mind that she didn't have an outfit for this group date.

''Hmm, this'' Lydia pulls out a sparkly top for Allison. Allison takes it and walks over towards her wall length mirror and puts it up against her front.

We all hear the door click open as dad enters the room. Allison's eyes widen.

''Dad, hello?'' She questions, though she probably gave him a look.

''Right, sorry, I forgot to knock'' Dad says, slipping on his jacket.

''Hell Mr Argent' I heard Lydia's preppy voice sign as she falls onto the bed. With this I roll my eyes. Just as I was starting to like her...

''Dad do you need something?'' I spoke up, sitting up on the bed as I looked over his face for any signs of anything. I'm an observer.

''I wanted to tell you girls that you'll be staying in tonight'' I groaned as I slumped back into Allison's bed.

''What? We're going out with out friends tonight'' Allison began disappointed.

''Not when some animal is out there attacking people'' Dad, the over protective parent.

''Dad, dad I-''

''It's out of my hands, there's a curfew. No one's allowed out past 9:30pm'' Allison rolled her eyes and threw her shirt onto the bed next to me.

''Hey, no more arguing'' He sternly replied to Allison before sending me a look as well. He turned around and walked out the bedroom door.

''It's not fair, why does he get to go out?'' I whined. Allison turned to face me curiously.

''What do you mean?'' She asked confused.

''He was putting on his everyday jacket, duh, he was heading out too'' I gestured towards the door.

''Daddy's little girls'' Lydia speaks up to both Allison and I.

''Sometimes, But not tonight'' My eyes widened once I saw Allison look over to her closed bedroom door and reach for her beanie. I sat up and stood next to Lydia. We both watched as she walked towards the window and climbed out onto the roof, doing a double flip onto the grass. Lydia's eyes widened when mine rolled. Show off.

''8 years gymnastics, are you coming?'' She whisper shouts from the ground.

''Yeah, I'll take the stairs'' Lydia speaks, allowing me to go past her to also hop out the window too.

''You're not going flip down too, are you?'' Lydia asks.

''I prefer a more subtle approach'' With this I walked over to the edge and bent down. I reached for the guttering and gripped, pulling my body off and then let go, swiftly landing on the ground with no stumble. I wiped my hands against my jeans.

''Let's go''

~*~*~*~*

My date was going horrible. The guy found an excuse to put his hands on body every five seconds. He even had the nerve to show me how to bowl when I already knew how to. He made me lose, big time.

On the other hand I was happy for my sister though. Her and Scott seemed to be having a good time despite Jackson practically being a dick to them the whole night. Once it was my date's turn to bowl again I quickly moved to sit beside Allison. She looked at me slightly worried.

''Are you okay?'' she asked, leaning in to me so that Scott couldn't overhear our conversation.

''Yeah, I'm fine, dickwad over here keep trying to touch me every five seconds though'' Allison softly laughed at the nickname I used but quickly became serious once again.

''It's whatever, let's talk about you'' I quickly threw this conversation onto Allison. I wiggled my eyebrows at her as she began to blush.

''Your date seems to be going extremely well'' She blushed more.

''It has been... one of the greatest dates I've ever been on'' My eyes widen with happiness. I was about to squeal in excitement for her but she quickly hushed me.

''It's not a big deal'' She mumbles.

''It's a huge deal! I am so happy for you Ally'' I lean in and hug her, the both of us smiling. I pull away and glance at her.

''God I envy you, sis'' She looks at me weirdly before I continue.

''You got this whole.. guy think down pat. I've tried since we came here but... all I'm finding is-'' I was cut off by the sound of my date hollering as he scored a strike. Jackson went up and petted him on the back, the both of them doing a bro hand shake thing that was too over the top. I turned around back to Allison in disgust.

''That'' Allison laughs softy.

''I could have set you up with a really great guy'' My eyes brighten at this.

''Who?''

''Scott's best friend'' My eyebrows furrow together in confusion. Allison looks at me as if I had grown two heads.

''You know, the brown haired, skinny guy who is always with Scott...'' She trails off, looking at my expression to see if anything clicks. Nothing.

''He drives a jeep...'' I shake my head.

''He's sarcastic and always staring at you?'' Still, nothing.

''He has brown eyes-'' My eyes widen in realization.

''Oh, you mean cutie?'' I asked. Allison looked at me weirdly.

''Stiles'' She says, leaving me very confused.

''What the hell is a Stiles?''

♦♡♦♡♦♡♦♡♦♡♦

word count: 3393 edited; not yet

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livesbeneath · 5 years

Text

the end of all things.

pairing: noah x female mc (harley blanco)

summary: it’s three am, and her laugh is in his head. it almost makes him want to live.

word count: 2.8k.

author’s note: i decided to try and revert back to my old epic poem-esque style for this work, and i have to say, i am extremely excited about how it turned out! this piece has been a labor of love for me, and i really hope you all enjoy a brief journey across canon with a little added perspective from noah and mc. i wrote this fic mainly while listening to the end of all things by panic! at the disco, hence the name. i highly recommend giving the song a listen since it’s gorgeous - and really helps set the mood. i apologize for any grammar / sentence structure issues, as i tried to proofread the best i could, and thank anyone who takes the time to read! feedback in any form is deeply appreciated! (and a big thanks to @gayvathewitch for being my first set of eyes <3)

disclaimer: i do not own these characters / some of the dialogue present. creative liberty has been taken to make this story unique, and i do not intend to use it for profit in any way.

whether near or far, i am always yours. any change in time, we are young again. so lay us down. we’re in love.

i. bravery

She asserted herself as the bravest in the group at age seven. She picked up worms after rainstorms, rode her bike without a helmet, and tried a new vegetable every month. She jumped into the public pool without holding her nose and didn’t wear swim goggles.

Despite being a pup, Harley led the pack. She was destined to grow into her claws.

ii. cowardice

He always looked slightly anxious. He was cautious, moody, protective. He often hid under his covers at night when he heard the wind blow through his window. It was broken, and refused to close all the way.

Noah wasn’t a wolfish young boy. He was more the shadow that hung behind the sun.

iii. third

He decides eight o’clock in the morning is too early to be awake. Noah suppresses a yawn, eyelids drooping. His mom says that he’ll be able to walk to school after he turns twelve. Until then, he’s stuck on the bus.

“Where’s Jane?” Harley asks quizzically, her Monsters Inc. lunchbox sat on her lap. The two girls always sat together. Noah usually took the seat across the aisle from them - but today it had been claimed by Grant Warner, and he was a fifth grader.

“She has a fever.” He frowns as he stares at the empty space beside her. “Can I sit?”

“I don’t know-” she grins, pulling on one of her own pigtails. “Can you? Do you know how to sit, Noah?”

“Shut up.” he grumbles as he plops down. She knows he doesn’t mean it, and that only makes her giggle harder. The sound makes him want to shove her lunch onto the floor. That is, until he hears his mother’s voice in the back of his head.

You know, boys only pick on girls if they like them, Noah.

Frowning to himself, he sinks lower into the seat, not bothering to shrug his backpack off his shoulders. Her voice was too loud for such an early morning.

“Are you nervous?” she answers before he can even take a breath. “I’m not nervous. I can’t wait to tell Jane all about it!”

“Third grade is gonna be just like second grade, y’know.”

Her spirit is seemingly indomitable, as she simply cheers in response. Her second grade year was a blast - and his was filled with butterflies. Annoying butterflies.

Butterflies he’d like to squish.

iv. sleepover

Mrs. Marshall had packed her children a travel-sized bag of cheesyfish, their own separate flavored toothpastes, and mismatched pairs of socks. She didn’t stop at the front door of Harley’s house to see her children off. Her migraines were getting worse - and a quiet night free of her kids was just what the doctor ordered.

Noah was shocked when Harley’s father answered the door. He didn’t see her parents much. In fact, he was pretty sure they were supposed to be in Boston on business in a week.

Immediately, the twins were whisked to the backyard where the rest of their friends were waiting. Andy was ripping clumps of grass out of the ground and throwing them at Lucas, which was highly amusing to the other children.

“Harley!” Jane says from beside him, a sly smile on her face. “Tell Noah to stop being such a big baby about Mr. Red.”

Harley’s mouth forms an o-shape, her eyebrows raising. “You don’t want to go play with Mr. Red tonight?”

“I’m not a baby! I just think - what if your parents see we aren’t here?”

“That’s why we have a tent, silly! And blankets and pillows to make props! We know Mr. Red can’t really play with us in the light.”

He bites his lip. “It’s gonna be really dark.”

“We can bring flashlights!” Harley smiles. “Or, we can stay here. I want to go to help protect everyone, but you remember the playtime rule, don’t you?”

A few feet away, Jane breaks a twig in half with a clean snap!

“Everyone plays together!”

v. whispers

Her first mistake was not making it to the gym early. If she had, maybe she could have snagged a seat at the top of the bleachers, somewhere high up, a corner against the wall where no one would bother her.

She’s all too aware of his lazy eyes. Tired as they may be, they burn into her back as she stands there like an idiot, contemplating a daring escape out the closest exit.

“Hey, Harley! Sit your stupid ass down unless you wanna watch from the garbage can!”

To her chagrin, Noah makes no move to assist her as she stands there. She doesn’t expect him to, but it would have been the most efficient way to make Cody shut his mouth.

“Hello? You’re blocking our view, and there’s a spot right there!” Jocelyn blurts, waving a hand towards the only seat left open in the whole place.

She exhales before turning at a snail’s pace to meet Noah’s eyes. He sits there expectantly, and Harley assumes that he already knows his answer to her question before she’s even asked it. Swallowing her pride, she offers him a reluctant smile. “Hey, Noah. Do you mind if I…?”

Can you? Do you know how to sit, Harley?

“Knock yourself out.”

He takes his time scooting to the side. Harley shoots Cody and Jocelyn one last glare before stepping up and squeezing beside Noah, crossing her arms across her chest as she plants her feet firmly on the platform below. Any attempts at small talk will be futile, and yet-

“So… what’s been up with you? We haven’t really talked since…”

His voice is a flatline. He shifts uncomfortably in his spot. “Yeah, I know.”

Harley shakes her head slightly as she glances around, her eyes not exactly focusing in on anything, not even Lucas as he approaches center floor to begin the assembly. The gymnasium rumbles around them as the students welcome their class president. Both stay still, letting the vibrations from over a hundred feet stomping madly drown out the rumbles of awkwardness situated in their stomachs.

They fall into a steeled, not-quite conversation. Occasional jabs at Lucas’ discovery of hair gel and Stacy’s cheermates inch them closer and closer to dismissal. After the bell, they’ll hopefully never have to do this again.

“Why do people like her so much?” Harley huffs offhandedly, eyeing Britney in the sea of pom poms before them. “They’ve got to know how horrible she is.”

“And?” Noah begins. “She’s hot and she can do flips. We can’t compete with that.”

She turns to look at him, a curious half-smile on her face as he shrugs. It’s somewhat comforting to know that they remain similar despite the ten years of radio silence between them.

It isn’t the same with everyone else, though. Some of them are still stuck in the gutter of the social pyramid, some of them seemingly free from it, parading around the gym like they own it.

“Huh. Andy actually made the team this year.”

Harley can’t help but grin at that. “Good for him! I can’t wait to see him play.”

Noah yawns as the basketball team captain takes the podium, his speech a carbon copy of every other student-written rallying cry, right down to the obnoxious Westchester Wolves howl.

However, one element manages to catch them both off guard: the flickering of the gymnasium lights.

Then, a plea from Lucas to stay seated. A microphone full of feedback. A broken stereo system.

With a loud BANG!, the doors of the gym fly open, and the lights flicker back on.

She feels a hand clamp around her arm. A shiver up her spine.

“God! What are you-”

He speaks with a frightening concern. “Shut up! Do you hear that!?”

“Hear what?”

“Ssssshhhh!”

The music sputters and dies as the lights shut off completely. A voice, completely alien and horribly familiar.

A whisper.

“Everyone… plays… together.”

vi. resurgence

They all started spending time together, but only out of obligation. It wasn’t as if cops could just arrest Redfield.

She understands Noah’s anger, but it doesn’t make the sight of his face twisted in rage any easier to see. It’s a constant reminder that maybe they could have spared themselves years of loneliness if one of them had been tough enough to speak up.

Harley wasn’t going to stand back anymore. Not after the assembly. Not after finding Dan. Not after what he had told her in the hardware store.

“Mom blames me, y’know. For Jane… and for dad leaving right after.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“It is. She’s said it to my face. Regularly, actually.”

It’s moments like that, like him looking so paralyzed when a monster charges at him, which spark up remembrance in her. They not only make her realize how much she’s missed him, but how much she’s always wanted to be there for him. To protect him. Something about him ignites the hero in her.

She finds where he sits at lunch and plops down.

He wonders why she didn’t ask before doing so.

vii. effortless

The cobblestone around Britney’s pool proved to be terribly unkind to any kind of shoe that required balance to walk in. Decked out in gold and heels, an ensemble that was a giant leap from her normal bomber jacket, it almost made Harley wish that she hadn’t agreed to take a walk with him.

Almost.

Jocelyn’s laugh and the rest of the party fades out behind them as they reach the edge of the backyard, the gentle lapping of the pool water calming Harley’s nerves.

She feels the urge to reach down her throat and rip her heart from her chest in an attempt to silence it. From the moment she had seen him in his natural habitat, gracelessly tossing potato chips into the pool, her heartbeat had been on the fritz.

Nevertheless, she appears just as collected as ever, even as the two of them share a grin. She takes note of how much lighter he looks when he does so.

“So I gotta ask-” she begins. “Why’d you decide to come tonight.”

He looks her over subtly. His hands begin to sweat. “It’s dumb.”

“I bet it’s not! What if I tell you something dumb?”

“Depends on what you got.”

She runs through multiple replies in her mind. There’s “I think you look nice with your hair long”, along with “I felt my stomach lurch when you laughed earlier”. There’s also-

“I got points off my language arts homework because I misspelled orange.”

His lips turn upward, and he doesn’t work to suppress a chuckle. “You mean the most phonetically sound word in the English language?”

“See? Now that was dumb.” she watches him shake his head, taking a breath.

“I came because…”

Because you would be here. Because she made things a bit easier to bear. “Well, being with your friends in a place you hate is still better than being alone, right?”

He drifts from her in that moment, the grill a few feet away giving him something more stable to think about. She approaches - relentless as always - a smile on her face. He wishes he could be so easygoing.

She speaks so easily, and he doesn’t think she realizes the impact of the stuff she says. Noah doesn’t know what it is about her that makes her so much easier to talk to. So easy to snap at, and then confide in seconds later. He knows she deserves better than his polar opposites. She would have a much better time playing spin the bottle with Stacy’s brother.

And yet, she doesn’t go. Not when he digs up skeletons from his past, not when he mentions his wishes for the future. He barely realizes he’s talking about Baby Jane’s, something that he’s never mentioned away from pen and paper, until the words leave his mouth. Until she happily asks “Will you let me be a waitress at Baby Jane’s someday?”

Something about it is so effortless. Something about them is so…

“Now, what do you say we go back to the party? See if Britney has any hot dogs?”

He shakes his head as music begins to blare from the house. “You go ahead. I like how quiet it is over here.”

Harley’s face practically glows as she recognizes the song playing, and she turns back to him, enthusiastically sticking her arm out. “Are you sure? Come on, come dance with me!”

“Hey, I bet Andy would dance with you.” he can’t help but smile, pointedly trying to ignore the adorable way she bobs along to the bass.

Instead of replying, Harley decides to kick off her heels, one of them landing in the pool as she goes. She shakes out her hair, brunette tresses falling over her shoulders and down her back, moving from side to side as she begins to groove along with the sound.

Laughing, she extends both her arms, making grabby hands at him and calling out. “But it’s fun! And it’s Franz Ferdinand! You know Take Me Out, right?”

He doesn’t bother to recall if he knows the song or not, and smiles as he playfully waves her away, standing only to go and fish her shoe out of the water.

Sticking out her tongue, hips swaying, she turns and dances off to where Andy is sitting.

He watches her go, a blush spreading across his cheeks as he marvels at just how plucky she is.

Some things never change.

viii. reverse

He made a bold move of his own a few days later, bell ringing overhead as he showed up unannounced, joining her for all things coffee and Redfield related. She had initially been alone, probably for a reason, as it jostled him to see her so worked up.

After a particularly tense session of rehashing the past, the sound of her pencil furiously scribbling away in her notebook dedicated to Mr. Red is the only thing between them. He shuffles his feet as he sees her violently wipe tears of frustration from her eyes. A sickness pools into his chest as he realizes how much of this she’s taking on by herself - and in that, he sees his own reflection.

“I don’t know what to do.” she huffs, dropping her pencil to tug on her hair.

Unwilling to hash out the future in its entirety, his hand grazes hers before pulling away. Instead of something to hold, he gives her a small smile.

“If all else fails, you can always wait tables. Baby Jane’s is gonna need staff members.”

It’s a nice thought.

ix. sidestep

The night was young as the teens celebrated their victory. After spending what seemed like years fearing every shadow that fell beside them, the strobe lights at homecoming seemed almost too good to be true.

Noah drifts off to the side as a slow song begins, feeling his stomach begin to churn as the clock keeps ticking. No matter how he tries, he can’t will the hands to move any faster.

Harley also feels sick, but mainly because she’s just polished off her fourth cup of punch in fifteen minutes. That, and the fact that they’re the only two who haven’t found someone to dance with.

Neither of them work up the courage to make a move.

Maybe he could have if he didn’t know what was coming.

x. betrayal

What was coming could only be better than what had gone.

He tells himself this as he watches her, dress ruined, drenched in Cora Pritchard’s blood and riddled with tears, leave the dogs to deal with the horde closing in on the ruins. This is what they - what he - had to do.

This only makes him sicker as he leads her inside. No amount of hope will ever dull the knife in his pocket. The way he feels about her only makes it sharper, only makes it more painful as she grapples with it against her throat. He thinks it remarkable how valiantly she fights. She thinks it horrific how this is when he finally decides to grow some balls.

Her survival instincts briefly overtake her heart. “Noah, you traitor! Let go of me! If Redfield has hurt any of our friends, I swear-”

The venom in her voice shatters him inside, but he keeps his focus on his sister, on how sweet it will be to finally free her.

He thinks of how when he dies, he won’t ever feel the pain of hurting those he loves again.

xi. together

But as always, she has a plan of her own.

When there is no one left but the two of them, both staring confoundedly at the puff of smoke that was once Redfield, her mind begins to race.

Harley watches his feet drag across the floor as he approaches her, his appearance that of a boy dissolved by his own actions. Noah wants nothing more than to dissipate. He wants nothing more than to make things right. To be brave for once.

Unfortunately, bravery is all she has left.

xi. bravery

So, she sacrifices herself.

xii. cowardice

And as for him?

He runs.

in these coming years, many things will change. but the way i feel will remain the same. so lay us down. we’re in love.

#it lives in the woods #ilitw #noah marshall #noah x mc #noah ilitw #mc x noah #playchoices #choices ilitw #fics

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patton-croc-agenda · 6 years

Text

The 5 Stages of Having a Crush

A/N: This is based off @the-pastel-peach‘s High school AU! Please check them out! God I love cheerleader Patton! If I weren’t so gay I would probably sweep him into my arms (actually scratch that I will platonically sweep him into my arms because I love he).

Words: 3,476

Pairings: Pining Logicality with side pining Prinxiety

Warnings: Swearing, lightly implied sexual humor, lots of pining

“For the last time, just ask him out like a normal human being!”

That was what Logan had said to Virgil three days ago, because that was the obvious answer to Virgil’s weird obsession with Roman Prince. Ask him out, actually go on a date. That way they could find if they were compatible and therefore they would either continue to date until eventually marriage and/or copulation or they would realize they were not compatible and break up. Simple.

Well, to put it bluntly, Logan from three days ago was a fucking idiot.

It wasn’t necessarily his fault, because Logan from three days ago hadn’t yet seen met Patton Foster. Well, met was a strong word. Logan from three days ago hadn’t yet seen Patton Foster do the goddamn splits multiple times in his stupid cheer outfit. In fact, Logan from three days ago had yet to even attend a single event where the cheer squad was present, as he found watching sports rather dull and had been able to skip most prep rallies in order to get in some extra studying.

So yes, watching Patton Foster do a cheer routine for the first time was not easy on one’s heart. That had to be all it was, though. The fact of the matter was that every person in the whole school loved Patton with a burning passion. Logan had been the exception, but he supposed this was an inescapable scientific fact that pertained to everyone, no exceptions.

That was how Logan found himself laying in his bed, staring up at his ceiling contemplating his stupid, illogical feelings. He groaned and pressed his palms over his eyes, causing his glasses to slip off onto the pillows. He looked up at the now blurry stars that he had put up about five years ago with Virgil’s help. He smiled softly at the memory, wondering if Virgil could help him with this situation too.

Picking up his phone, Logan hit Virgil’s contact and put it on speaker, tossing the phone next to him as he continued to stare upward. It rang twice before Virgil picked up.

“Lo, you know I hate talking on the phone,” Virgil greeted, voice groggy.

“Apologies, Virgil. Were you asleep?”

“No,” Virgil obviously lied, “whatsup?” Logan rubbed his eyes again. The imagine of Patton Foster’s soft, smiling face burned behind his eyelids.

“I need your assistance.”

“Oh?” Virgil snorted, “I was hoping you were just calling to check in on me.”

“Ha ha, focus please.”

“Right, right. What do you need help with?” Logan took a deep breath and wondered how the hell he could word this without making it sound like he had a crush. Because he didn’t. Logan had not had a crush in about six years, and he was not looking to break that record. Especially not because of Patton Goddamn Foster.

“Lo?”

“When did Patton Foster become attractive?”

Nailed it.

There was a pause on the other line before Virgil spoke again, voice wobbling slightly.

“What?” Logan sat up and grabbed his phone, bringing it closer to his lips.

“When did. Patton fucking Foster. Get. Hot.”

“Oh my GOD.” Logan heard a rustling as Virgil set down the phone, and listened as Virgil’s sudden laughter grew soft and muffled. Logan felt like his face was burning. Well, that had been a bit more blunt then Logan had intended, but it got the point across.

“OKAY, OKAY. Okay,” Virgil wheezed, picking his phone back up.

“H-hold on can we fucking Facetime, I wanna see your face.” Logan huffed but complied, hanging up the call.

He barely had a second to accept the Facetime Virgil had requested before Virgil was laughing again, his eyeshadow smeared with tears.

“Okay, okay. So, Patton Foster hasn’t changed in appearance for like, the last two and a half years. Hasn’t even changed how he’s gotten his hair cut.” Logan frowned, brow furrowing in utter confusion and concentration. He could hear Virgil snickering again, but ignored it.

“Then...how come I suddenly find him more attractive. Surely something changed.”

“Well, when did you ‘start finding him more attractive’,” Virgil asked, raising an eyebrow. Logan looked at the phone, feeling his face start to grow redder and redder. He couldn’t admit that he suddenly found Patton attractive because of the utterly ridiculous football game Virgil had dragged him to, he would never live it down!

It seemed, however, he had no choice. Not with the way Virgil was staring at him with his creepy, all-seeing eyes. Logan hated that look.

“Football game,” he muttered.

“What was that?” Virgil smirked.

“The football game.”

“Speak up, buddy.”

“THE STUPID FOOTBALL GAME, OKAY?!” Logan shouted, bright red again. Virgil didn’t even react the the shout.

“Oh? What about the football game?” Virgil wiggled his eyebrows. Logan somehow felt like he was growing redder.

“Say, isn’t Patton a cheerleader? Head cheerleader if I’m right.”

“Shut it.”

“Oh? Cheerleaders sure are flexible aren’t they Lo? Did you see some of the flips they did? And those splits?”

“I despise you with the heat of a thousand metaphorical suns,” Logan growled. Virgil snickered.

“Aw, love you too Lo. Welcome to the crush club.”

“I do not have a crush on him!”

“Ah, stage 1 of the crush club, I remember it well,” Virgil said poking his tongue out a bit. Logan frowned, eyes narrowing at his friend.

“Stage 1? What do you mean?”

“Denial,” Virgil winked. Logan stared at Virgil a moment, before deadpanning, “that is the first stage of grief, Virgil.”

“Eh, you’re grieving your sanity. Good luck Lo. Sleep well. Don’t think about Patton in his cheer outfit. Or out of it,” Virgil grinned wickedly and sent Logan some finger guns before ending the call.

Needless to say, Logan did not sleep well that night.

~~~~~

Logan flopped down next to Virgil during lunch, yanking open his lunchbox.

“Woah, what’d that lunchbox ever do to you?” Virgil asked, nodding to Logan’s aggressive behavior.

“This is so stupid,” Logan ripped into his sandwich like a hungry wolf, causing the few kids around them to scoot away. Even Virgil looked a bit intimidated, though it was overshadowed by a look that screamed impressed.

“What’s stupid?” Virgil asked. Logan threw down his half-eaten lunch and gestured vaguely in what had been previously dubbed the ‘Obnoxious Vigil Pining Zone’. Aka, where Roman and Patton sat, surrounded by their friends. Come to think of it, take Virgil’s name out of that title and it would still fit perfectly.

“Oh? Stage 2 huh?” Virgil asked, folding his hands and placing his chin on them. Logan scowled.

“I hate this. Look at his stupid, smiling face. Why is he so happy all the time. I found myself staring at him the entirety of chemistry instead of taking notes. Now I have to ask someone else for the notes. People are going to wonder why I was not paying attention, Virgil!” Logan was maybe, possibly, raising his voice.

“Dude, I can’t believe I have to say this to you, but it’s just a crush.”

“I DON’T HAVE A CRUSH ON HIM!” Logan shouted, slamming his hands down on the table. A hush fell over the cafeteria, and Logan saw Patton looking at him out of the corner of his eye. Logan coughed into his fist and sat back down, cheeks dusted pink.

“Ah, yes. That’s why you screamed about it,” Virgil nodded as the regular chatter picked up again. Logan huffed and continued to eat his lunch, shoving down his irrational anger. He was being ridiculous.

~~~~

“Dear God,” Logan wasn’t religious, but he was about to try anything at this point. He had his head bowed as he squeezed his hands together and his eyes shut.

“Please, please, please. Let me have a crush on literally any student in this entire school other than Patton Foster. Please.”

Logan lifted his head and stared across the field, where the cheerleaders were warming up. Fuck.

Logan took a deep breath through his nose and took the first step across the football field, taking the ten seconds it would take to reach Patton to talk himself out of this.

Virgil complained about having a crush on the most popular boy in school, but he forgot the fact that not everyone actually liked Roman, since he was so loud, and obnoxious, and jocks and popular kids in general had negative points in the loser kids’ eyes. However, no matter the fact that Patton was the second most popular boy in school, no one hated him. Not students, not teachers, not even Virgil. And Virgil hated pretty much everyone except Logan and Roman (though he claimed to hate Roman at times).

All in all, extremely popular and beloved boy and nerdy, cold student body president were not compatible. In fact, if this were a movie, Patton would be matched with a proper love interest and Logan would be the creepy and/or cruel antagonist trying to pull the couple apart. In the end, Logan would be defeated and Patton and his lover would ride off into the metaphorical sunset, with the viewers caring nothing of Logan’s fate. Ugh, when did his fantasies become so elaborate?

“HI LOGAN!” Logan stumbled forward as a rather peppy and excited voice burst through his mental spiral. He felt strong arms wrap around his middle, stopping him from toppling over completely.

“Oopsie, sorry about that,” the familiar voice giggled. Oh, fuck. Logan felt his face heat up and he forced himself to pull away and look Patton in the eyes.

Bad choice, Logan. Bad choice! Patton’s eyes were warm and excited, like he was a puppy or something else most people found unbearably cute. Logan coughed and adjusted his glasses.

“Yes, well, hello. Thank you, Patton,” Logan said. Patton’s eyes grew wide and Logan worried he’d said something wrong before oh God he’s hugging me help me. Help me.

“You know my name!” Patton squealed, releasing Logan and sounding absolutely delighted. He was delighted that Logan knew his name.

“I, uh, yes. You are one of the most popular and well known students in our school,” Patton’s face dimmed at that, so Logan hurriedly tacked on, “also we’re in chemistry together!” Patton metaphorically ‘lit up’ again at that. Logan was more surprised that Patton knew his name if anything.

“Well what brings you here, Mr. President?” Patton winked, and Logan hoped his face wasn’t as red as it felt. He coughed and adjusted his tie (which he wore to school because being in school did not excuse looking improper), and then his glasses. Patton’s head dropped curiously to the side and it was, well, frankly it was adorable.

“The school board wanted me to check and make sure that the cheerleaders were practicing all the safety procedures required as they prepared their routine. Something about pyramids?” Patton crossed his arms and pouted at that.

“Aw are they saying we can’t do our pyramid? I was gonna be on top this time!” Patton either didn’t hear Logan choke on his own spit, or decided to ignore it. Logan prayed it was the former.

“I do not think they were not allowing you to do so, I believe they just said to make sure you practice with mats as much as possible until the next game!” Logan said hurriedly, a little too fast for his own taste. Patton lit up again, grabbing Logan’s hands and putting them on his chest; Logan sputtered at the sudden contact.

“Oh that’s wonderful! We got some new mats recently anyway, I think someone donated to the football team recently or something and we got some of the extra money-” Patton was still babbling, but Logan couldn’t focus on anything except the warm and soft material of Patton’s silky uniform under his hands- of the heartbeat pattering under his palms.

It reminded Logan of when he and a classmate as children found a tiny bird in the rain. The boy with him had placed it in Logan’s hands; he gave a smiling missing baby teeth, before he had gone to get his dad or something and Logan has just stared at the tiny thing in his cupped hands.

“Lo?” Logan snapped his attention away from where he was staring at Patton’s chest oh God.

“Apologies, Patton, I got distracted and was staring into space,” he pulled his hands away, mourning their warmth. Patton beamed and shrugged nonchalantly.

“All good! Say, did you wanna watch us practice?” Logan froze, brain rewinding and rewinding again the question.

“P-pardon?”

“Yeah, we don’t usually let boys watch since they usually make rude or inappropriate comments about the girls, but you haven’t glanced at them since you got here,” Patton laughed. Logan frowned.

“There are other cheerleaders here?” he asked, internally smacking himself because no Logan, Patton was out here practicing by himself.

“See what I mean?” Patton giggled. Without waiting for Logan to answer, Patton grabbed his hands again and dragged him over to the bleachers, dispensing him there.

“HEY GANG IS IT COOL IF LOGAN STAYS TO WATCH?” Patton called. Logan felt the gaze of the other cheerleaders on him as he turned his gaze to his shoes.

“Yeah, Logan’s cool. I’ve seen him at, like, one game and all he was doing was staring at you,” a girl shrugged. Logan spluttered and looked away.

“I only went because Virgil wanted to gawk at Roman Prince in his football uniform,” Logan grumbled. That caused a few snickers throughout the crowd.

“Can you blame him?”

“Nah, that’s the only reason I signed up for cheer.”

“Wait seriously? Oh my God!”

“Virgil? Like, the Virgil who hangs out with you all the time?” Patton put his hands on either side of Logan’s legs and leaned in and Jesus Patton ever hear of personal space?

“Um. Yes?”

“OH MY GOD!” Patton squealed bouncing up and away from Logan and doing a twirl which was...quite adorable.

“Oh my God, okay, so Roman’s been talking about Virgil like all the time now-a-days! He thinks Virgil hates him or something, but I keep trying to get him to ask him on a date and now I know he doesn’t hate Roman because he has a crush on Roman too!” Patton said it all in one breath, it made Logan slightly dizzy.

“Roman has a crush on Virgil? Well, then I’ve been listening to Virgil’s pining for nothing,” Logan grumbled, crossing his arms. Patton giggled.

“I know! Like, it’s obvious they like each other. Say why don’t we-” “PATTON STOP TALKING LOGAN’S EARS OFF WE NEED TO PRACTICE!” one of the cheerleaders called. Patton shrugged and bounded away, calling over his shoulder, “We’ll talk later LoLo!” Logan nodded, but as soon as Patton turned his back he put his head in his hands and screamed as silently as he could.

~~~~~

“Hey Log- woah, what happened to you?” Virgil asked that following Monday. Logan’s hair was a mess, glasses askew, and his tie was crooked. He sighed and looked at Virgil with a dead expression.

“I have a crush on Patton.”

“No shit. Wait did you two-”

“Finish that sentence and I will throw my Advanced History textbook at your head,” Logan grumbled. Virgil immediately backed off. Logan did not want to admit he had spent the entire weekend watching ‘How to Deal with a Crush’ videos on YouTube and eating Crofters jam straight out of the jar. Virgil must have seen something on his face though, as he shrugged and said with a small smile, “You admitted you have a crush on him.”

“I did.”

“Stage 5, congrats,” Virgil said. He didn’t sound exactly enthusiastic about it, though. Logan snorted.

“At least you have a chance.” Virgil’s head snapped up at that and he grabbed Logan by the shoulders, looking desperately into his eyes.

“Wait, what does that mean? Logan, who told you that? Did Patton? What did he say?!” Logan was cut off from answering when he saw Patton run over from behind Virgil and tap him on the shoulder. Virgil turned around and Patton waved.

“Heya! Would you mind if I stole Lo here for a teenie, tiny, second?” Logan felt his heart rate increase as Virgil looked desperately from one to another before slumping his shoulders in defeat and nodding.

“Thanks!” Patton chirped, latching onto Logan’s arm and practically dragging him to the auditorium. Logan followed meekly, not knowing what was in store for him.

“I got him!” Patton called, and Roman Prince appeared from the shadows, making Logan jump. He wondered, briefly, if the ability to melt into the auditorium background when not on stage came with the theater kid package.

“Excellent! Patton, you may go,” Roman waved him off. Patton pouted, giving that puppy-dog look that made the entire student body melt.

“But I wanna hang out with you guysssssss,” Patton whined. Logan felt the alarms in his head blare a bit. He didn’t mind getting kidnapped by Patton, because Logan’s logical reasoning on Patton had been burned, spat on, and tossed out a friggin window. Roman, however, had a history of being a bit of a bully at rare times, and Logan didn’t want to be alone with him.

“It’ll be just a second, promise!” Roman flashed Patton a smile, apparently immune to his charms. The perks of being Patton’s best friend, he supposed. Patton sighed and gave Logan a sad look. Logan hurriedly pulled out his phone and offered it to Patton, who looked confused.

“Add your number,” Logan said, surprised and pleased that his voice failed to crack or shake. Patton looked at it another second before snatching it from his hands and typing hurriedly.

“I texted myself so I’d have your number, but I’ll text you for real later!” Patton said, sounding like Logan had just gifted him with something much more valuable than a simple phone number. Logan nodded numbly and watched as Patton bounced off, finally turning to face his fate with Roman.

Roman Prince towered over him, as he was one of the tallest boys in the school, and Logan was one of the shortest, even with his impeccable posture. Logan didn’t let this deter him, though, as he’d heard Virgil gush about this boy to the point Logan was pretty sure he could escape any threat given to him based on that information alone (seriously, Virgil, Logan did not care about Roman Prince’s goddamn shoe size).

“So, I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a while, and since you and Patton are kind of the friends now it seemed like the opportunity has finally arisen,” Roman leaned back on his heels, looking almost nervous. Logan folded his arms and raised an eyebrow.

“Oh?”

“Yes I, um,” Roman rubbed the back of his head, “you are friends with Virgil, correct?” Logan blinked. Ah.

“Are you planning to ask him out?” Logan asked. Roman sputtered in surprise, waving his hands in front of himself.

“No! Yes? Maybe?!” Roman looked as though Logan had threatened to punch him. Scratch that- he looked like someone who wasn’t two heads shorter than him had threatened to punch him.

“I was a-actually wondering,” did Roman Prince just stutter? Logan was cackling internally, “if Virgil um, hates me?” Logan snorted despite himself, making Roman look horribly offended.

“What? He’s keeps glaring at me!” Roman said, sounding desperate. Logan chuckled.

“He does not hate you, Roman. I think he is simply perpetually stuck in stage 2.” Roman looked confused, rubbing his forehead.

“What? What does that mean? Logan, what does that mean?” Logan snickered.

“I’m sure he will tell you eventually. Just ask him out, Roman,” Logan said, a smile quirking at the corner of his lips. Roman scowled, and Logan turned on his heels to walk out.

He had his hand on the door when Roman called out, “Hey, Logan.” Logan turned and met Roman’s gaze; he was smiling wryly.

“You seem like a pretty cool guy. However, you being friends with Virgil won’t stop me from destroying you if you break Patton’s heart.” Logan felt all the blood drain from his face.

“W-what? What does that mean? Roman?” Roman sauntered past Logan, opening to door.

“We’re going to be late for class, which I know your little nerd heart wouldn’t be able to handle. Let’s go,” Roman strode past Logan, standing tall. Logan swallowed nervously, feeling a buzz from his phone.

Me [7:45 am]: fgfdhfghdf

Patton-cake <3 [7:58 am]: Hi Logi! It’s me, Patton!!!!!!! Well you probably knew that cause i put my name in your phone haha! See you in chem?

Logan smiled, putting Roman’s threat from his mind. Okay, so maybe he had a crush on Patton, but there were worse boys to fall for.

Me: I look forward to it immensely, Patton.

Taglist: @fluidityandgiggles @hanramz-the-fander @supremestoverlord @ilikesomeshtuff

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #sanders sides fic #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logicality #prinxiety #hello i love me some pining Logan #Jack writes

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missmeikakuna · 5 years

Text

Chad and the Incel Chapter 1

Rated: M

Fandom: Original Fiction (but inspired by the Virgin vs Chad meme)

Relationship type: Male/Male with a bit of Female/Female (the lesbians are adorable, btw) and unrequited Male/Female (in other words, the guys are bisexual).

Description: Chad is, well, a Chad, or at least he looks like one. He’s got his sights set on the cool nerd Becky and enlists the help of her shy incel ex-friend Noah, offering to help him get the gorgeous girl (Stacy) he desperately wants. Noah is reluctant to help, believing that he will be stuck in inceldom forever, but Chad’s interest in his life gives him hope. When their plans go awry, they start turning their romantic attention towards each other.

Content Warning: Given the subject matter, you can guess that this story has dark themes in it, such as suicide and self-harm (plus the mental health issues that often cause them), sexism, slut-shaming homophobia, biphobia and transphobia. There is also swearing and some mentions of sex but nothing too explicit (hence the M rating as opposed to an Explicit rating).

1st Post: [SuicideFuel] Talking to a Chad

Chad Beaufort wiped his forehead with his towel, which he held over his back like a tarpaulin. He kept in one corner as he changed. He didn’t need to, per se. For an eighteen-year-old, he was fairly muscular and lacked much excess body fat, plus he had the benefit of being one of the tallest students on the team. However, he didn’t want to face his teammates, and he certainly didn’t want to have to see them changing.

He gasped and felt tempted to nurse his back when a hand smacked it. He grit his teeth. He could already tell who owned that hand.

‘Hey, my man. You wanna go and get some Mickey D’s?’

He was right.

He turned his head. Tyrone Cooper. A short, scrawny black kid with a big mouth and an urge to insult every person he came across.

‘Or are you too busy chugging salads in fear of getting fat?’ He looked up and down Chad’s body despite most of it being covered by a towel. ‘Good decision,’ he said. Case in point.

Tyrone reached up and wrapped his arm around Chad’s neck, pulling the poor sonofabitch to his level. ‘But surely you won’t sacrifice a friend for that, right? Come on, have some fun.’

Ah, yes. ‘Friend’. Chad and Tyrone? Totally friends. Chad definitely enjoyed spending time with him and certainly never wanted to punch his teeth out.

‘I’m busy,’ Chad murmured.

Tyrone let go of him and crossed his arms. ‘Fine. Enjoy your fucking salad.’ He left with a huff. Chad sighed in relief.

He finished changing and headed out the door. He looked at his watch and sped up his walking. She was probably gone by now.

His heartbeat became as intense and full of hype as an overture when he saw Becky White pass him in the halls. At least she hadn’t left yet. Her dark chocolate hair was pulled back tight into a high ponytail, making her soft facial features all the more visible. The icy blueness of her eyes made her stand out. Her slim arms, covered by a merino wool sweater, were somehow carrying several books without her face showing any signs of struggle from their weight. Her mouth was closed so her braces didn’t show, but somehow those braces were charming to Chad. Or maybe he just liked seeing her smile.

For a moment she did, but then she hid her face behind her books. Chad’s face started to heat up but then he looked behind him and saw a girl he sort of knew.

Stacy Wells was a tall girl with a fake tan and a large chest, wearing short shorts, just long enough to avoid being chastised by teachers, and a tight top. When she saw Becky, she pushed a strand of her wavy bottle-blonde hair behind her ear and gave her a little grin. She stared at her with warm brown eyes.

Covertly following her was a short boy with greasy and messy short black hair, which had bangs long enough to almost cover his eyes, a shirt with some anime girl on it and a pair of glasses Chad expected a grandfather to wear. Noah D’Arc. He had his hands in his pockets and was looking away from Stacy but inched closer to her. Chad caught him taking a whiff of Stacy’s fruity perfume.

Stacy held her hand up to wave at her. Becky noticed Noah’s presence and scowled at him. He scowled back. She whipped her head away from him, causing Chad to savour the sight of her ponytail bouncing, and continued walking.

Stacy frowned and dropped her fingers, her hand still hanging in the air. Noah looked down at the floor and shuffled away.

The next day, Chad found himself staring at Noah in class, trying to come up with a possible reason why Becky glared at him. His thoughts quickly got distracted from this puzzle when Becky’s face entered his mind. Chad grinned as he wondered what she’d wear on a date. Would she still wear her usual simple attire or would she dress up? He had a feeling she’d look cute in a sundress with her hair down. Then again, ponytails were kind of hot-

He was thrown out of his mind by another slap on the back. Like a bull he breathed out through his nose and turned his head. Tyrone. Of course.

‘Hey, you know Emilia Graff? I heard she just got pregnant. I can’t imagine it, personally. I mean, is it physically possible for her to get fatter?’

Chad considered replying, ‘Shut up. No one cares.’ However, Becky’s face once again popped up in his head. He instead asked, ‘Hey, do Becky White and Noah D’Arc know each other?’

Tyrone scratched his chin and looked up. ‘Hm…. Well, I do remember them being friends in middle school. Don’t know what happened after that. Why?’

Chad shrugged. When lunchtime rolled by, he watched Noah head to the computer lab with his lunchbox and decided to follow him.

When he entered the lab, he leaned against the doorframe. ‘Hey, uh, Noah, right?’ he asked when Noah sat down by a computer. Noah didn’t look up. His shoulders rose, his hands curled into fists and his eyebrows met in the centre of his face.

Chad put a smile on his face and his hands in his pockets. This was how it was done, right? ‘So, I was wondering if you could tell me about Becky.’ Noah remained silent but started moving, turning on the computer and focusing on the screen. Chad rubbed the back of his neck. ‘I’d kind of like to know what kind of guy she likes.’

Chad’s eyes widened when Noah rolled his eyes. He heard him murmur, ‘Typical.’ Chad covered his mouth to suppress his laughter, releasing a tiny bit of spit into his hand. He wiped that hand against his jeans and held it out for a handshake. Noah looked at the hand like it was covered in maggots or, well, spit. Chad kept his hand out but curled it nervously.

‘Well, how about…’ Chad said, unsure what to do next. ‘You like Stacy, right? Let’s help each other out.’ Noah whispered something. Chad leaned down and put his hand against the back of his ear. ‘What was that?’ Noah tucked his lips into his mouth. Chad sighed. ‘I thought you’d be, I dunno, happy to get some help. Wait, I didn’t mean that in a… Sorry.’

Noah whispered again, but this time Chad heard it, though just barely. ‘No fucking point.’

‘Why?’

Noah tensed up even more. ‘I’m blughpild’

‘Huh?’

‘Blaghpeeled.’

‘What? I still can’t hear you.’

Noah took a deep breath. ‘Blackpilled.’

‘The fuck does that mean?’ Chad blurted out, though he didn’t apologise.

Noah crossed his arms and turned his head in the direction opposite to Chad. ‘I realized the truth a few months ago.’

‘The truth? Is this ‘blackpilled’ thing a cult or something?’

Noah stood up and grabbed the collar of Chad’s polo shirt, pulling him closer. ‘You think someone like me would end up in a cult? I’m not dumb enough to believe in some sky wizard.’ After saying this, he immediately let go and sat down, sweat dripping down his face. The two were silent for a few moments.

Chad asked with a curious grin, ‘So what is it, then?’

A sigh from Noah. ‘Well, you would agree with me if I told you the world’s unfair, right?’ Chad shrugged but then nodded. ‘It’s especially unfair for people like me. No girls want to talk to me, no girls even want to go near me.’

Noah paused, considering how much information he planned on giving. ‘I’ve been deprived of love my entire life. Women just want Chads who treat them like shit, leaving behind all the ugly guys who’d treat them with respect.’

His face scrunched up with just enough force to stop his eyes from spilling tears. ‘When I gave up on trying to get a woman, I became blackpilled. Your world and mine are night and day. You get the bright blue day world full of love and admiration and I get the pitch-black night world full of, well, nothing.’

Chad asked, ‘Hey, wait, what did you say about me? Women want guys with my name? Why?’ Noah looked at him like a dog being told an unrecognisable command. ‘My name’s Chad.’

Noah scanned Chad’s body. ‘How fitting,’ he said as he tried to rip his eyes away from the lightly-tanned muscles that bulged out from underneath his crimson T-shirt and the tousled blonde hair that accentuated his strong jaw-

‘How?’

Noah coughed and turned away again. ‘You look like a Chad.’

It was Chad’s turn to cross his arms. ‘The hell does that mean?’

Noah’s throat closed up. His arms stiffened and his eyes darted everywhere. Chad exhaled and left the room, but not before seeing a tab on Noah’s computer entitled ‘Incels.me’. He just missed Noah groaning when the website was blocked by the school, taking out his phone and seeing only a tiny bit of internet data left.

Chad didn’t talk to Noah for a couple of weeks, but he did occasionally stare at him in the hopes of catching him considering the option.

Noah did consider it. In his mind was a constantly repeating video of him gathering the courage to talk to Stacy and her giving a cute little giggle before grabbing his hand. However, he remembered something someone on Incels.me said.

Stacies don’t know what true oppression is. They’re able to use their body to get what they want. If I tried to do that, I’d be arrested for sexual harassment.

This comment kept battling with the fantasy of Stacy going out with him. Chad’s idea was useless. No, it wasn’t. It would never work. But Chad could give him some expertise. No girl wanted an ugly guy. But maybe this Stacy was different!

He finally made his decision as the lunch bell rang, though part of him screamed for him to reconsider. Instead of heading to the computer lab, the library or the cool-aired spot behind the gym, he walked up to Chad.

It took him a while to start talking as Chad put his pens in his pencil case. ‘If you give me some dating tips, I’ll tell you about Becky.’

After a moment of pressure at the thought of giving dating tips, Chad beamed at him and did something he didn’t expect to do. He gave him a little slap on the back.

‘I knew you’d come around,’ he said.

What he didn’t know was that Noah had written about him on Incels.me.

#chad vs incel #Chad x Incel #bisexual #Incel #romance #drama #original fiction #breaking stereotypes #lesbian #Chad and the Incel

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lostbetweenvampiresandmusic · 5 years

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Midnight - short story

Church bells were ringing when Lucy had woken up. Slightly startled, and even more slightly confused she found herself sitting up straight. She frowned, not knowing where the ringing came from. After all, the nearest church was over a mile away. She looked at her alarm, and saw it was only midnight. Shaking her head, and deciding it must have been a dream, she laid down again and tried to fall back asleep. Still, she felt uneasy. She had the feeling several pairs of eyes were watching her every breath. She held her new necklace in her hand, a gift from her grandmother, and steadied her breath.

‘It’s absolutely nothing’, she mumbled. ‘Keep yourself together Lucy.’ She closed her eyes, started to doze off when…

‘BANG’ the loud sound of a church bell rang through her room. Lucy shot up. Looked around. No one. She turned her light on. Looked in her closet. Under the bed. In the hallway. She was alone. There were no churches. Had she really imagined this all? This noise, so loud, so real…

She shook her head, and decided to take a glass of water, sit down with a book and wait for sleep to come for her. Maybe that way she would be distracted. It was her imagination after all.

She sat down, opened her book and began to read. Shortly after she must have fallen asleep, for when she woke up at 8 a.m. the next morning, the novel laid in shreds at the end of her bed.

‘Oh no’, Lucy picked up the book and looked at the damage. The cover was torn, and several pages were ripped out. She picked up all the pieces, laid it on her desk and rubbed her eyes. ‘This is not real Lucy… This is not real! It must have been a cat or something. I probably just left the window open and a cat must have gotten in and taken my book.’ But even then, Lucy knew, that it wasn’t a cat. The window had been closed all night, and she knew better. She knew what was going on. She just didn’t believe it. Didn’t dare to.

After she went to work she had slowly became certain that the occurrences from the night before had been her imagination, and by the time she was about to have her lunch she had forgotten all about it. And if the thought did cross her mind, she blamed it on a dream. Just a very vivid dream.

When she sat down in the park behind her office to eat her lunch another strange thing happened. She was about to open her lunchbox when she noticed a foul smell. Rotten eggs smelt better. With a look filled with disgust she opened her lunch, and inspected her food. All of it seemed to be quite fresh. Once again she shook her head, this time blaming it on the wind. There must be a filled trashcan somewhere around here, she thought, and the wind must have carried the smell with her.

She decided to not let it bother her, and she enjoyed her lunch in the bright sun before having to go back to work. She ate quietly, listening to the birds, watching the people pass. It was peaceful.

Until she had the feeling she was not alone. She felt eyes burning on her back. Quickly she turned around to see… nothing. An empty field. ‘What’s going on with me?’ she wondered out loud. ‘All of this is just my imagination.’ Mumbling this she packed her things and went back to the office.

She took the elevator up, feeling unnaturally uneasy. She had never feared elevators. Why start now? With a soft ‘ding’ she noticed that she was on her floor, and stepped out of the lift.

She went straight to her desk, sat down, got herself a nice cup of coffee and started working again. She talked to some of her colleagues, wrote some notes and made some phone-calls and soon it was time for her to go home. She stood up, after packing her stuff, and realized she was one of the last people on the floor. She said them goodbye, and walked down.

When she passed the bathroom she heard a cry coming from inside. She stopped in her tracks. Lucy wondered. Was it real? Or just her imagination at it again? She knocked on the door. ‘Hello?’

Silence.

She opened the door softly, and peaked through the gap. ‘Is anyone here?’

Silence.

She opened the door a bit further and stepped inside. A thick, stiff air hung around her and the feeling of being watched came back to her. She stood in the middle of the room and had checked all the stalls. All of them were open, except for one. That was the one that had been clogged several weeks ago and still not repaired.

‘It must have been somewhere else then…’ before she could properly finish her sentence a loud bang filled the room. It echoed on the walls. The mirrors shook in their frame. Lucy turned around, just in time. She saw a young girl disappear.

‘Who are you?!’ Lucy yelled, nervously awaiting an answer.

‘Little girl! Tell me, who are you?!’

Once again she was met with silence. All of the bathroom stalls were empty, when she checked once again. Poor Lucy began to wonder if she’d gone insane. She looked around, and shook her head. No one was there. There was no little girl. Just her. Alone. In the bathroom at work. Nothing else.

She heard a soft giggle behind her. Quickly she turned around. ‘Stop this!’ she shouted. She rubbed her eyes. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.

Silence. All there was, was a thick, deafening silence. Lucy stood there, frozen. Did she dare to look around? Would she be met with silence, emptiness or…?

All the taps turned on. Water splashing down, streaming down. Filling the sinks, overrunning on the floor. More water came down, and it kept coming. Only more and more.

Lucy screamed, ran towards the taps and turned them off. But no matter how hard she tried, they always turned back on.

‘Stop it! Stop it! Please!’ she screamed, ‘I’ve had enough! You win! I’m done! You win!’

Tears ran down her face. Fear stuck in her eyes. Shaking she looked around. The taps had turned off.

‘Are you alright?’ Lucy yelped. One of her coworkers, Matt, she believed, was standing in the doorway. She ran towards him, and looked at him.

‘Please tell me you see it too.’ She begged. She pointed at the water all over the bathroom floor. Matt looked puzzled. ‘See what? What happened Lucy?’

‘The taps… someone was here… and…’ How could she continue this sentence? She herself hardly believed what had happened. She became quiet and looked at Matt with pleading eyes.

‘I’ll take a look okay? Just stay here.’ He walked further into the bathroom, checked the stalls, the taps, even looked under them. He got up and shook his head. ‘No one’s here Lucy. Only us. The taps are off, and there is no water on the floor anywhere.’ Lucy shook her head in disbelieve. She saw the water, liters of it, right there, on the floor.

‘It must have been the light,’ she said quietly. Matt nodded. ‘Probably. Why don’t you stay home tomorrow? You seem to be getting a cold.’

She nodded and waved him off. When he was gone she closed the door and broke down into tears. She glided down the wall until she sat on the floor, not caring that her clothing got wet.

Sitting there, crying she remembered what her dad had told her once. Her great-grandmother had been a gifted woman. She had created Lucy’s new necklace, and had done lots of good in her life. She had lived in a small cottage in the forest, with lots of weird antiquities stalled in and around the house. When she had passed, Lucy’s grandmother had started to live in the house where she had once lived. Quickly after moving in her grandmother had some supernatural problems. Nothing she couldn’t solve of course, but still, the evidence was there.

The moving furniture, the messages in blood scribbled on the walls. Lucy’s grandmother had moved out shortly after that, and had taken the necklace with her. Lucy closed her eyes, think back even harder. Had her father not said it was a ghost that had troubled her grandmother? And didn’t he seem to believe it?

She looked up, laughing an emotionless laugh through her tears. ‘Yeah, right… ghosts. Ghosts.’ She tasted the words on her lips. Could it be possible? The clocks? The foul smell? The feeling of being watched?

‘Well, I can deal with ghosts right?’ She stood up, and looked in the mirror. ‘I’m a living being. They’re gone. They’re dead. They’re only ghosts. They can’t hurt me.’

Oh, how she wished she hadn’t said that. A bright flash shot through the room. Hundred invisible hands pulled her backwards, and pushed her with enormous force against the walls. The mirrors broke, broken glass flying around. Fragments hit Lucy everywhere, her eyes, her legs, her arms, all covered in the pieces of glass. Her whole body seemed to sting. She cried out.

Giggling behind her. She tried to look. Only walls. No space for anyone else. ‘Why are you doing this to me?’ Lucy cried.

The taps turned on once again. Water came pouring out at an abnormal speed. Quickly the room was filled with a meter of water. ‘Stop this! I didn’t do anything wrong! Leave me alone!’

Another pair of giggles echoed through the room. Invisible hands pulling Lucy down. Water. All around her. Closing in on her. Darker and darker. She couldn’t see. Couldn’t hear. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. She became limp and sunk to the ground, deeper and deeper.

With a gasp she’d woken up.

In the distance a church bell was ringing. She was confused. Where did it came from? Shaking her head, she looked at the clock.

It was only midnight.

Original post posted to my website, maanmeisje.nl

#midnight shortstory horror lunahamelink maanmeisje creepy ghosts ghoststory stories

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theladyofdeath · 6 years

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Friday Night Lights {ACOTAR}

Chapter 1

Summary: Inspired by the series Friday Night Lights. In a town that is obsessed with football, a group of teenagers are glorified for what they bring to the field. But what the people of Velaris don’t realize is that there is a lot more to life than football, and it’s not always pretty.

Revolves around Cassian, Nesta, Elain, Lucien, Azriel, Morrigan, Amren, Feyre, and Rhysand.

*Warning: This fic deals with sensitive material.

*Note: A chapter will be posted every Wednesday.

Click here for previous chapters.

Author’s Note: Hey, y’all. Once again, I’m posting earlier. Earlier is better than later. I was meant to post tomorrow, but I got called in to work double, and I didn’t want to be too exhausted when I got home (which I will be!)! So, I hope you enjoy chapter one. I’m so excited to finally get the ball moving on this fic! Great things are coming. I would love to know what you all think. :)

Enjoy. <3

“Why are you nervous? You’re gonna do great. I promise. When I come pick you up later, you’ll be thanking me for bringing you to school.”

Alana, at only five years old, rolled her eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I know,” Cassian agreed, handing his little sister her pink, glittery backpack. “But I love you, and that’s all that matters.”

Despite herself, Alana smiled. “Fine. But if I hate it, I’m going to punch you in the face when you pick me up.”

“You’ll have to catch me first,” he winked, before rising to his feet from where he was kneeling in front of her. “Alright. You’ve got your backpack, your lunchbox – which is filled with a delicious PB&J, by the way – and a sweet unicorn notebook. Now, go kick ass.”

“Shhhh,” she scolded. “You’re not allowed to say A-S-S. You’re going to get in trouble.”

Cassian quickly covered his mouth, and tried his best to look theatrically apologetic. “You’re right, I’m sorry. See? You’re already smarter than me. School is good for you. Now, go. Learn. And I promise I’ll be here right after you get out. Okay?”

She nodded, but her smile gently faded as she took a step back and began to walk toward her classroom.

“Lana?”

She glanced back at him over her shoulder.

He gave her a quick thumbs-up. “You’ve got this.”

It wasn’t until she stepped into the classroom that Cassian loosened his breath. He had done everything in his power that morning to make her feel confident – he did her hair and topped it off with a beautiful, ivory bow, surprised her with a new dress that he had found almost brand new at the thrift store, and made her one of his famous PB&J sandwiches that she would beg him for almost every night for dinner.

Now, he could only hope for the best.

It was only kindergarten.

Cassian had not neglected to realize how parents looked at him as they made their way out of the school. He was young, and would have had to have Alana when he was only thirteen. But he was used to the judgements. He was basically her only caregiver, thanks to their no-good mother.

Alana wasn’t meant to be born. Cassian was amazed she had even made it through childbirth with how much his mom smoke and drank with her in the womb.

Thirteen. He was thirteen when she was born. And he had taken care of her since, in every way that he could.

He had fumbled around a lot, at first. It’s not like he had a prime example of how a parent, or a caregiver, should act. His mother was a bum and his father left when he was five. His grandmother was beautiful, in every way, but she had begun to show signs of Alzheimer’s when he was only eleven, and was put in a home, where she had been ever since.

So, thirteen-year-old Cassian had read a lot of “What to expect when you’re expecting” and hoped for the best. He had stolen a lot of formula, and used a small blanket as a diaper, but they had survived.

Their mother wasn’t always bad. She went through phases. Every now and then, she would say she was trying to get better. She would stop, for a small amount of time, and would care for her children to the best of her ability, which wasn’t saying much. Then, she would relapse.

Every time.

As the bell rang, Cassian cursed, earning even more hateful glances from passing parents, as he ran out of the school building, and across the street to Velaris High.

He had to hold up his jeans as he sprinted – his leather belt that he had worn for years had ripped that morning – and tried not to trip over his untied, bulky boots as he practically fell into homeroom.

Everyone stopped and looked at him, which he lazily smiled at in return. “Good morning.”

Some of the girls waved, and giggled under their breath. It was Rhysand who stood up in the back corner, his own sweatshirt that read Velaris High Football mirroring Cassian’s. “Don’t worry, Cass. You made it here before the teacher.”

Cassian was overjoyed when he found out he was having Helion for homeroom for the second year in a row. He was casual, probably way too casual for a teacher, and was never on time.

As he sat at a desk in the back, Cassian slapped Azriel across the back of the head. “Where were you last night?”

“Oh, uh,” he hesitated, and his cheeks stained crimson. “Nowhere. I just…..didn’t quite make it. Sorry.”

There was a bonfire at one of their teammate’s houses, welcoming in the new school year. Cassian and Rhysand had made it an hour before coming to the conclusion that Azriel wasn’t showing up.

Alana had stayed with Rhysand’s mother and younger sister, whom she adored.

Cassian leaned in closer, slightly concerned. “Things going okay?”

“Yeah,” Azriel answered, quickly. “Yeah, I was just tired. Been putting in extra hours in the weight room.”

Cassian nodded, although he wasn’t convinced. Azriel fell into the pit of darkness and despair more than the rest of them did, and although he usually pulled himself out, he had a history.

“Hey, losers.”

“Ah, Morrigan,” Cassian sighed, turning his head to find the blonde beauty standing behind him. “Oh, how I’ve missed you.” She ruffled his hair, and he pushed her hand away. “You’re going to ruin the manbun. It’s an art, Mor.”

Cassian had known Mor just as long as he had known the others, since elementary school. He and Mor used to have a thing, if one could even call it that, but they ended up being just friends. Their so-called relationship felt too forced, too unnatural.

She was beautiful, though. That much was obvious. It didn’t help that every boy in that testosterone filled school looked at her as if she were the only girl in the hallways.

Before Mor could come up with yet another cunning response, the door flew open and Helion stepped in, but he wasn’t alone.

Cassian swore Azriel sucked in his breath.

“Hello, class, good morning! I’m sorry I’m late, but I was showing around our new student.” As Helion spoke, everyone was looking at the girl behind him. She was fairly short, her dark, brown hair in long, loose curls. She wore a floral sundress as she stood with a smile on her face. “Students, welcome Elain Archeron. Do we have any volunteers to show her to her first class this morning?”

Cassian eyed Azriel, and gave him a wink, but Azriel just rolled his eyes and went back to his doodling.

“I will.”

Ugh, Cassian thought. Lucien.

“Mr. Vanserra,” Helion smiled. “Perfect. Elain, if you’d like to take a seat next to Lucien, he will guide you through your first day. I hope it’s everything you want it to be.”

“Total shit?” Mor mumbled. “Because that would be an improvement from last year for me.”

Cassian grinned as Elain thanked Helion, and sat next to Lucien.

Azriel’s eyes followed her from underneath his dark bangs until she took her seat.

Feyre was taking P.E. for her first period of the day, and she found it to be a horrendous twist of fate. They wouldn’t let her take art, because she was required to have two physical education credits to graduate, and she hadn’t taken any at her old school, Lowell High. So, she was spending her morning in P.E. and her afternoon in weight lifting.

Weight. Lifting.

Sighing, she stood in the gym at 8:20 in the morning in her royal blue gym shorts and t-shirt that read VHS Physical Education.

She longed for her paint brushes.

It wasn’t that she was in bad shape. She was actually pretty fit. Although she considered herself more of the artistic type, Feyre would take a jog every day before school to escape the morning wrath of her father.

As she watched the others that would be in her class meander into the gym, Feyre sighed. She was exhausted. The night before, her first night sleeping in Velaris, had been an adventure of sorts.

Alis was nice. So were here boys. But if Feyre had learned anything, it was not to trust anyone. She could hardly sleep as she kept one eye open, glued to the door, which she had locked before the three sisters turned their light out.

Elain had thought she was ridiculous, and Feyre expected nothing less. Elain looked for the good in everyone, and Feyre did the opposite.

She looked for the worse.

She was still looking for something bad in Alis, but Feyre was sure she would find it. People always showed their true colors eventually.

“New girl?”

Feyre spun around to find the most beautiful male she had ever seen.

He was tall, and not wearing the same gym uniform that she was. He was wearing long, black sweatpants and a hoodie that read Velaris High Football. His violet eyes were in deep contrast to his pushed back black hair.

Feyre quirked a brow. “Is that how you greet everyone?”

“Only the beautiful ones,” he smirked.

Feyre rolled her eyes, and turned her back to him.

“Don’t harass her, Rhys,” another male voice appeared behind her. It wasn’t light, though. It was hard. Cruel. Annoyed.

She turned, her curiosity getting the best of her. Rhys was looking at a new boy, nearly the same height with shoulder-length blonde hair. His piercing green eyes were watching Feyre.

“Don’t be a dick, Tam,” Rhys, the first one with the violet eyes, shot back.

Feyre took in the two males, their stances as they looked at each other. There was tension there. There was history.

“Don’t listen to either of them.” She hadn’t even realized there was a girl standing next to her until she spoke, sending Feyre jolting in the air. “Sorry, new girl. Didn’t mean to scare you. Just came to tell you not to pay attention to these two dimwits.”

She was nearly a foot shorter than Feyre, with her chin length black hair and almond-shaped eyes.

“Who are you?” Feyre asked, because the girl had yet to look at her.

“Amren, no need to scare the living shit out of the new girl.” It was Rhys. The boy with the violet eyes.

Those damn violet eyes.

“Will everyone stop calling me that?” Feyre snapped. “It’s Feyre.”

There was silence, and then, “That’s a weird name.”

I hate this school, she thought to herself, as the gym teacher strolled out onto the middle of the floor.

He was short and bald with gym shorts on that were way too short, and a whistle hanging around his neck. “Laps! Now!”

Yes. She was most definitely going to hate it.

Rhysand hated the locker room. It smelled atrocious, and there were clothes and mother-knows what else in some of those lockers that had been there since Rhysand started Freshman year.

“Tamlin intends on being a dick again this year, it seems.”

Rhysand chuckled at Cassian’s words, although they rang true. He was thankful for Amren, who came and broke the building tension. If Rhysand knew Tamlin, which he did, he knew his first comment was the first of many that he had planned.

“Tam is incapable of not being a dick,” Rhysand sighed. “He’s too much like his father.”

Cassian whistled in agreement as he lifted his damp gym shirt over his head. “Feyre looks a lot like the new girl from homeroom. Think they’re related?”

At mention of Elain, Azriel peeked over his shoulder.

Rhysand shrugged. “Maybe.”

“She seems nice. Feyre.”

“Really?” Rhysand scoffed. “She called me a prick every five minutes for the last hour.”

“That’s why I like her,” Cassian grinned.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have kept trying to talk to her, or flirt, or whatever you were trying to do,” Azriel suggested. “She’s new. She’s walking unknown territory, she may need space.”

Rhysand blinked. “Thank you for the advice, wise Azriel.”

Azriel rolled his eyes before returning to his deodorant.

“Have you twats heard from Mor today?”

Fury settled in the pit of Rhysand’s stomach as he turned to see Eris standing on the other side of him.

“For some reason, she likes you all,” he continued, when no one said anything. “Although, I’ve tried to convince her otherwise.”

“Not texting you back?” Cassian asked, in that dangerous, witty way of his. “You should probably take that as a hint.”

Eris laughed, unamusingly. “I give her much more than most guys can. Have you heard from her or not?”

No one answered.

Rhysand had walked with her to school that morning, actually. She seemed distant, like something was off. But he knew her. He knew that she didn’t want to talk about it, that she would bring it up when she was ready.

And if she wasn’t talking to her boyfriend, perhaps it had something to do with him.

Eris shook his head before backing away. “Idiots. I’ll have to give Mor another talk about who she chooses to hang out with.”

Rhysand put his arm on Cassian’s shoulder, because he could see the anger begging to be unleashed from his friend’s inner being.

“He’s an asshole,” Azriel mumbled. “He’s trying to piss you off, don’t let him get to you.”

Cassian gave him a curt not before reaching into his locker and pulling out his torn-up jeans.

Rhysand had known Eris and his brother, Lucien, since elementary school. They were polar opposites, but unfortunately both revolved around crowds that Rhysand couldn’t stand.

“Why do you bother with her, anyway?” one of Eris’ boys asked from further down the row of the lockers, loudly, so that the three Illyrians could hear.

Cassian’s hands slowed as he tugged his jeans up over his boxers, but Azriel had stopped completely.

Rhysand knew what was coming. He had been in this situation before with Eris. He liked the drama. He liked the tension. He liked the fight, and Rhysand hated him for all of those things.

“Ignore him,” Rhysand muttered, pulling on his hoodie.

“Because she’s hot,” Eris said, turning to Rhysand and giving him a conniving grin. “She may be a dumb blonde, but she’s good in bed –“

Rhysand had just pulled his hoodie over his face when he saw Cassian, jeans still unbuttoned, flying down the rows of lockers before grabbing Eris by the neck of his shirt and pinning him up against the cool, red metal.

The word stop didn’t make it out of Rhysand’s mouth before Cassian’s fist collided with Eris’ jaw, then his nose.

Eris was just as big as Cassian, but Rhysand often forgot how brutal Cassian could be. He was a gentle spirit, but he had lived a rough life. He had learned how to stand up for himself, and his sister. He could keep himself in check most of the time, was good at keeping his cool, but there were certain things he would not take.

Degrading women? Offending those he loved? Those were his biggest ticking points.

And he loved Mor.

As blood trickled over Eris’ mouth, Azriel and Rhysand were at Cassian’s back, trying to pull him off.

Coach B, who most likely had heard the noise of boys hollering with excitement from within his office in the back of the locker room, came around the corner and took in the scene.

The football coach’s big, burly hands grabbed Cassian’s arm and pulled him off his opponent. “What the hell is going on in here? It’s the first day of school, and you two are already acting like savages? Vanserra, get dressed and see the nurse. Rhysand, Azriel, get to second period. Nazari…” he looked at Cassian and shook his head. Disappointed, but not surprised. “My office. Now.”

Elain wandered through the crowded hallways with Lucien at her side.

“So,” he cleared his throat, glancing at her with russet eyes. “What do you think so far?”

They mostly had the same schedule, which Elain was thankful for. She does okay in new situations, in unknown territory – at least better than Feyre – but, it was nice to have a guide for the day.

A handsome one, at that.

It wasn’t that Lucien was the most handsome guy she had ever seen, but there was something about him that made Elain’s heart feel a little lighter. His red hair was perfectly sculpted, all back from his clear complexion. Clear, except for the light scar that ran from his forehead to his cheek.

He was dressed nicely, too, which had always been something Elain liked in a boy. His blue jeans fitted him nicely, paired with a screen tee that had an old, vintage camera on it.

“Well,” Elain sighed, “history was okay. No one’s looked at me too strangely, and I haven’t gotten shoved into a locker yet. I can’t say it’s all that bad.”

Lucien smiled. “Well, that’s good to hear. Next, we have Algebra. Then, you have your creative class. What did you sign up for?”

Elain gasped. She had forgotten to ask this morning when she had arrived. “I haven’t signed up for anything yet. I completely forget –“

“No worries. You’ve still got time. You should sign up for yearbook, that’s where I go. The group is really fun…..I think you’d like it.”

She gestured to his t-shirt. “Photographer?”

Lucien laughed. “Is it that obvious?”

Elain grinned. “That’s cool. I would like to see your pictures sometime.”

Lucien’s smile became gentler. “I would like that, too.”

A dark, hooded figure ran into Lucien’s shoulder.

“Oh,” the boy turned. “Sorry.”

It was the boy from homeroom. Azriel, she thought his name was.

The sight of him captivated her. He was dressed in black, his eye-length hair peeking out of his hood. There was something about him, something haunting…..like shadows dancing around his being.

“Watch it,” Lucien snapped, his entire demeanor changing.

Elain glanced back and forth between the two boys, suddenly feeling uncomfortable in the middle of them.

“I apologized,” Azriel replied, clipped, before turning his back to the pair and walking away.

“I would stay away from him if I were you,” Lucien said, once he had walked further down the hall, into the sea of students.

“Why?” Elain asked.

“He’s just….different. Broody. Never smiles. Kinda creepy.”

Elain nodded, although she wasn’t so sure.

She had a feeling she wouldn’t be able to stay away from the boy with the shadows.

Cassian sat, still shirtless, staring at a plaque that read Coach Bryaxis Bell.

He hated his name, so they all called him Coach B. The plaque typically made Cassian laugh, typically had him spewing jokes like it was his job.

But not today.

Coach B shook his head from the other side of his desk. “Cassian……You could get expelled for this, do you realize that?”

Cassian didn’t answer.

Coach B shook his head. “You probably broke his nose. I need him on the defensive line –“

“I’m sorry, okay? I lost it for a minute. But he was being a prick –“

“The hallways are filled with idiots, are you going to punch every single one of them?”

Cassian stayed silent, then shook his head.

After tossing Cassian a spare t-shirt, Coach B sighed. “How’s your mom?”

Cassian shrugged the shirt on, then shook his head. “Don’t know. Haven’t seen her in a few days. Since she came home drunk off her ass and passed out in the middle of the hallway.”

Coach B watched him curiously. “Do you think she’s okay?”

“Who gives a shit,” Cassian snapped, then felt bad.

Coach B was trying to help. Cassian remembered how terrified he was of the big, burly coach his freshman year. He looked like something from Cassian’s nightmares. But, over the past four years, he had grown to like the man. He had become, in some strange way, a friend.

“She goes away like this every now and then. She always comes back.” Then Cassian added, “Unfortunately.”

“Well,” Coach B sighed, just as he always did when he was disappointed. “I’m going to give you one month’s detention.”

“What?” Cassian exploded. “Seriously?”

“Care for expulsion instead?” When Cassian shook his head, Coach B continued, “Don’t worry about Alana. I’ll send Rhys to get her from school.”

He must’ve seen the horror in Cassian’s eyes. He was all she had. Alana would be waiting for him when the final bell rang, and he would never come.

“She’ll be right by my side until you get to practice, just like always,” Coach B promised. “But I have to punish you. As much as I think Eris is an ass, violence on school grounds is unacceptable.”

Cassian tried to smile. “Says the head football coach.”

Coach B chuckled. “Last time I checked, they don’t allow nose shots in football, either.”

Cassian grabbed his late-pass from Coach B and entered the hallways just after the second bell rang. It was day one of his senior year, and he had already gotten detention. As he ran his fingers along the cool lockers, he found himself wondering if colleges took a hard look at how many detentions an applicant received throughout high school.

Because he was sure he was sitting at the top of the list.

Then again, he couldn’t go to college, could he? He had to stay for Alana. He couldn’t leave her there, by herself. Even if he took classes at Velaris, how would that work? He heard that freshmen had to live on campus. He couldn’t do that.

He couldn’t leave his little sister with their mother.

Alana deserved better than a mother couldn’t care less about her.

Then again, she deserved better than a brother who couldn’t control his temper, too.

Cassian paused at his locker, and hung his head.

Nesta tried her best not to fiddle with her thumbs as she sat in the school office, waiting to be called in for her first day at work.

She had graduated high school at seventeen, and found herself at Velaris University the next Autumn. Now, she was nineteen and halfway through her academic journey, well on her way to being a teacher. Until then, she figured she would try and get herself into the local school district.

And she had.

It was a job with little pay, but she didn’t care. It would lead to bigger things. Greater things.

“Miss Archeron?”

Nesta shot to her feet once her name was called, and brushed down on her pencil skirt although there were no wrinkles. She greeted the headmaster with a smile as she reached out her hand toward his. “Good morning, Mr. Collins. Nice to see you again.”

“You too, Miss Archeron. I’m glad to have you on board here. I’d heard your sisters started here this morning.”

“They did,” she said, as they walked into his office and took a seat. “I’m sure they’re loving it.”

Mr. Collins gave Nesta a cunning smile as he sat on the opposite side of his desk. He was young, at least for a headmaster, probably in his early forties. His hair was dark, with the slightest hints of grey in his mustache. His pale skin was in perfect contrast to his green eyes.

“Well, Miss Archeron, I guess we should get to work,” he said, handing her a file of papers. “You will be an assistant and aide for the office, as you know. I was also hoping you wouldn’t mind sitting in on detentions.”

Nesta’s hand stilled, midway to grabbing the files from him. “Detention?”

“Yes, it will be for an hour after school. We will pay you, of course. That won’t be an issue, will it?”

“No sir,” she said, although hesitantly. “No, that won’t be an issue at all.”

His grin was almost scary as he replied, “Good.”

Chapter 2 will be posted on Wednesday, January 10.

#tacmc FNL #fnl #friday night lights #acotar #acomaf #acowar #fanfic #fanfiction

471 notes · View notes

writingintheocean · 7 years

Text

It has been almost a year, and for that I am sorry. But if any of you are still interested I am back and I am ready to finish. Banzai?

AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/7216591/chapters/24189144

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Title: A Day

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

12 days ago, Warren pulled Kurt out of his last class to help him do laundry. His hand was on his upper arm all the way from the third floor down to Warren’s second floor bedroom.

7 days ago, Kurt was in the library with The Grounding of Group 6 on Jean’s insistence. Warren tossed himself into the chair opposite with Peter’s (most likely stolen) Walkman. They sat in quiet silence, meeting eyes to smile and nod every so often.

5 days ago, Kurt realized he had forgotten to do his own laundry. The laundry room was gratefully empty at 2 in the morning. He wore Warren’s shirt and chastised himself for not getting it back to him immediately after the water balloon fight. The lingering scent of alcohol and Angel was undeniable. When Ororo ran into him in the hallway at 4, she said nothing.

2 days ago, Kurt cooked and ate with Ororo and Jubilee. Warren stumbled in after a test flight with Hank and sat down next to him for the rest of the meal, their legs touching underneath the table.

Today, Magneto was escorting Kurt and his friends to Cerebro. Warren had come with him.

“So they didn’t just let you go?” Scott may have been holding Jean’s hand but all his attention was on Erik. “I thought you and Ro and Feathers back there were all cool with the government.”

“No, I’m afraid not,” He smiles wryly, “Attempting to murder the president still counts as treason, even if a decade has passed.”

“Not to mention the destruction of almost every manmade structure on every continent. That’s an issue,” Jean says.

Kurt glances down at the floor. The steps of his friends echo loudly in the otherwise empty hallway but his bare feet don’t make a sound. Ororo left a trail of dirt behind her and similar flecks fell from Jubilee’s heeled boots.

Erik gives Jean a bemused look. “That as well. The arrangements of my release are a bit stricter than your friends.” He stops in front of the X-shaped vault that houses Cerebro. “The helmet given to me by Apocalypse was handed over to the United Nations. I teach here during the week, and on the weekend, I am flown to wherever I am needed to help with the world’s rebuilding effort under heavy guard, usually Hank. Charles was also required to show that he can control me with his powers, displayed in front of the entire U.N.”

“But he didn’t.” Jean, for all her normal brash and bluster, smiled as she said this.

“No.” Erik returns the grin. “He asked me to follow along.”

A beam of light flashes Erik’s eyes and unfolds into an X across his face. A robotic voice welcomed ‘Professor Lehnsherr’, with Warren snorting at the name and Kurt grinning at his laugh, as the vault opens.

As the group files in one-by-one, Kurt takes in the secret hub of the school. The inside appeared to be little more than a sectioned dome, squares puffed up slightly like pillows and one strip of floor that led from the vault’s entrance to the center of the room. A chair, console, and helmet with wires were all that awaited them, cast in a visually uncomfortable white and blue. The only time things had looked this sterile were in the preceding corridor or in the hospital when they had visited Peter.

“This,” Erik puts his hands on the back of the chair and gestures for Jean to sit down, “Is Cerebro.”

Jean glances at Jubilee before picking up the wired helmet. A second glance, (“We’re right here, don’t worry Jean”), and she slowly puts it on. Kurt startles slightly as the dome goes dark, grabbing the sleeve of Warren’s jacket as the console lights up blue.

“With it, Charles can connect to every mind on the planet. With her powers, Jean should be able to do the same.”

Thousands of images of people appear all over the dome, floating in midair and flickering blue. Erik makes an adjustment at the console and different people, this time in red, take shape.

“These are our mutant brothers and sisters.”

Scott and Ororo are standing on either side of Jean, their mouths open in awe. Jubilee carefully reaches a hand over the catwalk edge and passes it through one of the images. “This is incredible…” she trails off.

“This place must remain a secret from the rest of the world.” Erik’s voice takes on a graver, albeit bored tone. “There are many who would harm us, using this machine to track and destroy our kind. It was how Apocalypse—”

A mechanical whisper on Kurt’s right (“En Sabah…”) is cut off before it finishes.

“—Found the school and managed to track and kidnap Charles. In the wrong hands, it can be as bad as any nuclear weapon. Perhaps worse. And to us it remains an indispensable part of mutant protection. Jean,” Erik points to one of the red figures, “Can you tell us something about him?”

There’s a moment of silence before Scott leans down to look at Jean. “Hey, are you okay?” He turns to Erik, “Is she..?”

“I’m fine, Scott.” Her voice is shaky, a starstruck quality to it. “There’s so many…..so many voices. I can hear all of them. I can feel all of them.”

Erik turns to them, concerned. “If you think this is too much, we can stop. Charles and Hank are gone for the day and I can’t help you like he can.”

Kurt jumps again as the room zooms in on the person Erik pointed to. It’s a man in his forties, wearing a hard hat and thick glasses. His mustache has flecks of lettuce in it and he rests on an iron beam, lunchbox in his lap.

“David Courderoy. He wishes he’d put mayonnaise on his sandwich.” Jean raises an eyebrow. “And he’s wondering if he should cut things off with Judy and come clean to Barbara.”

Erik’s smiles are mostly teeth, but they look so genuinely pleased Kurt isn’t the slightest bit ruffled. He still hasn’t let go of Warren’s sleeve. He doesn’t seem to mind.

“And this one?”

“They’re finishing a research paper on clownfish.”

“How about them?”

“He’s putting up decorations for a friend’s birthday party.”

“Her?”

“She’s waiting for the 4B bus; her daughter has a doctor’s appointment and then she has a court date for spitting acid on her wife’s boss.”

Ororo points before Erik can ask again. “What about her?”

“Oh she…” When the view moves again, the figure that appears is small. “She’s….afraid of something. Someone’s coming after her.” Her long hair and dress trail behind her as she runs. Kurt looks down at his feet again. She doesn’t have any shoes on. “Mira, her name’s Mira, and she’s trying to get to a river or they’ll catch her again and….” Jean flinches and grabs her neck. “Something’s hurting her.”

Scott whirls to face Erik. “Turn it off!”

“We have to get her.” Ororo’s fingers spark with electricity.

“She’s in—she’s in Kentucky. She going towards a bridge there….” Jean’s nails dig into the armrests and the catwalk begins to vibrate.

“Dude, how do we get this off?!”

“It’s a big bridge…I don’t know where……” Jean’s voice has an unmistakable edge of pain to it.

Erik pushes Scott aside and takes over the console. “Jean- helmet off.”

The image disappears and the dome lights come back on. The floor stops shaking. Erik rips off a piece of paper that the console ejects and scans it hurriedly. “We have the coordinates. Do you have a plane?”

“No, the one Professor McCoy was building got destroyed and we haven’t gotten a new one.” Jubilee gnaws on her bright pink fingernail. “If she’s in danger NOW, how do we get to her?”

When Warren steps forward, it yanks his jacket out of Kurt’s grip. It feels like rejection. “I’ll go.”

“Are you well enough? It’s only been a few months. Your wings need to be stronger.”

“Ororo, you saw me fly on Tuesday. They’re fine.”

“Kentucky’s over 700 miles from here.” Scott isn’t even looking at him, he’s still face to face with Jean waiting for her to stop hyperventilating. “Even you can’t fly that fast.”

“I’ll take Kurt.”

There’s a few different choruses of ‘What?’ but Kurt knows his comes out the loudest when Warren looks at him, determined and maybe a bit desperate.

“You can teleport as far as you can see, right? I’ll fly us both up and you take us as far as you can until we get to her.”

“That’s not going to work!”

“That will work. Jean will track you with Cerebro and tell you when you’re close.”

“She’s not going back in that thing!”

“Scott, I’m fine!” Jean locks eyes with him and he backs off before she turns to Kurt and Warren. “Go.”

He grabs his hand and teleports them both to the top of the school. There’s barely a cloud in the sky and had he not seen the look of terror on Mira’s face it might seem like a perfect day. Warren’s breathing is heavy next to him. “Warren, how do we….how were you…..?”

Kurt yelps as Angel scoops him into his arms and takes off at a run. Kurt hooks an arm around his neck and his tail coils around Warren’s waist as he jumps off the roof and they fly, higher and higher.

“You okay?” Warren asks.

Kurt nods, the air around them getting colder as they rise and the wind whips past them. He thought flying would feel weightless but instead he feels the full force of gravity pulling him back.

“Kurt, hey,” Angel jostles him and he looks up, caught off guard at how thick his throat feels. “I’ve got you?”

The adrenaline of rescue kicks back in. He swallows. “You’ve got me.”

Angel smiles, the tension in his face fading for the one moment they look at each other. “Where to Jean?!” he calls to the air.

Kurt, on your left.

He scans the horizon slowly [Yes, go there] and they disappear. Warren readjusts his grip slightly and Kurt buries a hand unconsciously into his regrown blond curls. The mansion grounds below them are gone and they reappear over a river.

You need to get higher. You’re over the Hudson; that’s only 10 miles.

“Hold on.” Angel warns. He catches an updraft and Kurt feels his stomach plummet. The harsh flapping of wings can barely be heard over the wind and the sound of Kurt’s own heartbeat thudding in his ears.

Bamf!

Farther.

Bamf!

He can hardly feel his hands it’s so cold.

Keep going, a little to the right.

Bamf!

Keep going.

His foot goes through a cloud and comes away damp. He says a small prayer for bare feet.

Bamf!

Keep going!

Bamf!

KEEP GOING!

Bamf!

“Kurt!” Warren shouts as he tucks his wings in and dives. Kurt curls his body around Angel as they roll out of the way of a bridge.

You’re there! That’s it she’s right over—

A burst of gunfire and screams comes from the bridge in front of them instead of the one behind. There are only people on this one, not even a place for a road. The tide of people runs away from the right side where a team clad in black is running full speed after a dark-skinned girl in a nightdress.

Kurt points to her frantically. “That is her! That is Mira!”

Warren lands hard on top of the bridge, using the side to stop his momentum forward. Kurt scrambles out of his grasp and unwraps his tail.

Mira makes it onto the bridge.

Two of the soldiers stay back on land, guns trained onto the bridge and pushing people out of the way.

Kurt grabs onto the beam and climbs down as quickly as possible, sliding and curling around the beams where he can. His body seems almost fluid if not for the fear rushing through him that keeps him from all but melting. When he lands, he calls out to her. “Mira!” She looks at him, tears running down her face and teeth gritted. She swerves towards the side of the bridge and he teleports to her side. “Mira, we are here to help you- We want to save you, Mira-!” When his hand brushes her he jumps back, a shock of pain rattling up his arm.

She runs past him, still yanking at the black collar on her neck.

“Warren!” He yells. “She has a- a collar! It is electric, I cannot get her! Warren!”

He watches her climb onto the rail. The soldiers yell dimly behind him.

“Warren!”

She bends her knees. A shot flies past him.

“Warren!”

She jumps.

“ANGEL!”

#Xmen #Warren Worthington III #Kurt Wagner #nightangel #nightcrawler #fanfiction

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selfignitingimagines · 7 years

Text

Malia- Keep You Safe

Request- could you please do a type 1 diabetic reader who's scott's little sister and dating Malia? she's strong enough to defend herself but peter (or theo) kidnap her to use as leverage over the pack. sorry if that's not enough of a request but i would love to see a diabetic reader! :3

A/N- I just have to say that I loved this request. I tried to do my research, but I apologize if I got anything medically wrong. With that being said, I hope you like it!

Malia pulled into your driveway and slammed to a stop, causing you to jump. “Sorry,” she told you, flashing you a helpless look. “I’m a little rough on the breaks.” “It’s alright,” you said sincerely, reaching out to pat her arm. “You’re learning. I mean, I can’t drive, so who am I to judge?” “But I don’t want to kill you,” Malia said with a frown. You laughed. “Mals, I’ve almost died so many time in the past two years. I doubt you breaking hard is gonna kill me.” Malia smiled at the use of your nickname. She normally hated pet names, but coming from your lips, it just sounded different. It was comforting and reassuring, and she could hear the love in your voice. She unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned forward, more than a little awkwardly, because the center console was between the two of you, but she got there eventually. She unclicked your seatbelt and eagerly pulled you against her, pressing her lips to yours. You smiled against her lips and slid your hands up to tangle in her short brown locks, and she took that as a sign to yank you even closer. Her hand rested on the small of your back, but she suddenly, roughly pulled you into her lap. You made a small “mmph” sound and pulled away slightly, unable to help the grin that made its way onto your face. “Malia, do you wanna come inside?” Her eyes lit up, but she looked over at the clock on her dashboard and realized how late it was. “Damn it. I can’t. I have to be home early tonight or my dad’s going to freak out. With everything that happened with the Beast, he’s been getting worried about me staying out.” You nodded. “My mom’s been worried too. I’ve tried to tell her I can protect myself, because of everything Braeden showed me, but that doesn’t even help.” Malia shrugged. “She’s used to looking after you and worrying about you. She’s done that your whole life.” “Yeah, but teaching me how to inject myself with insulin and defending me from supernatural creatures are too different things,” you pointed out. “When it comes down to it, there’s not much she can do but hope me and Scott come home safe.” “Yeah,” Malia agreed, peering down your driveway. “His bike isn’t here.” “I think he’s with Stiles,” you told her. “He’ll probably be home soon.” Malia frowned. “And your mom’s still at the hospital?” You nodded. “Till eleven.” “I don’t wanna just leave you here,” Malia told you. “Aw, come on, Malia,” you groaned. “Not you too. It’s only a few hours. And Scott will probably be back soon anyway.” She glanced up at your dark house, and then back down at you. She knew you could defend yourself. She had seen you go hand to hand with an Eichen House orderly for a solid ten minutes when you were all saving Lydia. She just didn’t like to leave you alone. “Fine,” she breathed. “But I want you to text me, okay? And if anything weird happens, or you get scared-” “Me, scared?” you interrupted. “I know, I know,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “But I’m serious. If anything out of the ordinary happens, call me. I’ll run here if I have to.” You nodded. “Thanks, Mals.” You leaned forward to press a sweet kiss to her cheek, and then you crawled off of her and grabbed your bag. “See you later?” Malia nodded, and you hopped out of the car with a smile on your face. She rolled down the window as you were walking up to your house. “Make sure you eat something! And don’t forget to take your insulin!” You glanced back at her. “Sure thing, mom!” Malia rolled her eyes, but she smiled as you disappeared inside your house. God, she loved you. You walked inside, still smiling to yourself as you dropped your bag on the floor and shut the door. You flicked on the light and rooted around in your bag until you pulled out your lunchbox, and in it, an insulin pen. You were about to take the top off and prick yourself, but a large bang from somewhere else in the house caused you to jump. You dropped the pen in surprise, and you froze as you heard footsteps begin to come closer. You quickly darted into the kitchen and looked around for anything you could use as a weapon, but the only thing close enough was a broom. You quickly grabbed it and ducked behind a corner, trying to quiet your breathing. The footsteps echoed from the front door, right near where you had just been, and you pressed a hand over your mouth. Your grip on the broom was tight, along with every muscle in your body. You wondered if Malia was still outside, but the fact that her headlights were no longer shining through the window told you that she was gone. “Y/n,” you heard a soft voice call, causing you to go rigid. “Where are you?” No, you thought. No, this can’t be possible. “Y/n,” the voice called again, mocking you in a singsong tone. “I can hear your heartbeat. You can’t hide from me.” You shifted your grip on the broom as the footsteps came closer, tightening and retightening. Your were confused, shocked, and maybe just a little bit terrified at who was in your kitchen. It shouldn’t have been possible. You had seen him die, or what looked an awful lot like death to you, in those tunnels under Beacon Hills. He had terrorized you and your brother, not to mention the rest of the pack, and you never thought you would see him again. You and the others thought it was over, but as your heartbeat hammered in your ears and Theo’s Raeken’s shadow fell over you, you were proved wrong. It didn’t take you anytime at all to swing out with the broom and nail Theo right in the face. You weren’t about to be prey, and the minute he came close enough, you gave him one good smack with the wooden handle. He stumbled back with a snarl, flashing those glowing yellow eyes at you. “Someone’s been training,” he remarked, swiping out with his claws. You blocked the blow with the broom and landed a sharp kick to his side, shoving him back. “How the hell are you alive?” Theo grinned. “Sweetheart, I never died.” “You got dragged down to hell,” you spat, jabbing the wooden end of the broom toward him, only to have him snatch the broom with a firm hand. Theo laughed and yanked you closer. “The experience was total hell, so I can agree with you on that one.” “Scott’s going to kill you,” you told him firmly, bringing the broom up to clip him in the chin. Theo growled and jerked backward, but he quickly shoved the wood back down and wrenched it from your hands. You ducked as he tried to hit you with it, but when you came back up he was waiting, and he smacked you in the side of the face. You fell to the floor, and he violently stabbed it toward you, but you rolled, and it hit the kitchen tile instead. You lunged outward and knocked his legs out from under him, but he simply tossed the broom away and jumped on you. He pinned you to the floor, and once you were down, you were powerless to shove him away. “Scott’s not a killer,” he remarked, flicking out his claws and pressing your cheek into the floor. “But I am. And I’m not afraid to rip his little sister’s throat out and splash your blood all over the fridge magnets.” You struggled against his grip, digging your nails into his arms, but all it seemed to do was annoy him. “I’m actually not here to kill you, believe it or not.” You glared up at him, and he leaned in closer until you could feel his breath on your face. “You wanna know why I’m really here, attacking Scott McCall’s innocent baby sister?” In answer to that, you promptly spit in his face. Theo wiped his eyes on the back of his hand and glared down at you, but he seemed to be keeping his anger under control. Considering he had the upper hand here, that was probably a good thing. “I’m going to kill your brother, and your girlfriend, and every other friend you have. And I’m going to use you to do it.” “They’ll never trust you,” you spat. “They won’t fall for it.” “They will if they know I have you,” he told you. “They’d never let me hurt sweet, little Y/n.” You writhed on the floor, and Theo was under the impression that you were still trying to get away, but what he didn’t realize was that the broom was only a few inches away from your fingers. He laughed and let you get a little farther, before slamming you into the ground again. He smirked in amusement, but you were soon jabbing him right in the eye with the end of the broom. He let out a scream of pain and stumbled back, and you took the opportunity to jump up from the floor and run toward the front door. Your phone was in your bag, and if you could just get to it and call Malia- You screamed as Theo wrenched you back by your hair. Before you could even make it there, he was clapping his hand over your mouth and slamming you roughly into the side of the doorway. Your vision went black for a few seconds, but when you opened your eyes, you were still on your floor, being pinned down by Theo again. This time, he made sure there were no weapons around. “I could kill you right now,” he snarled in your ear. “But I’m not going to. I’m going to wait. It might take a few days for them to find you, but Scott and Malia are going to come after you.” A few days. His words echoed in your ears, and even through your addled brain, you were able to pick up that this was incredibly bad. “Wait, Theo,” you croaked. “You can’t-” “Shh, shh, shh,” he murmured, placing his hand over your mouth. “Don’t worry. They’ll come for you.” You tried to mumble past his hand, but he didn’t understand. There was no time to tell Theo the fact that might have saved you, because he was yanking a syringe out of his pocket. He pressed your face into the floor, and you squirmed under him, desperately trying to get away. “This might hurt,” he whispered in your ear, causing you to shudder in revulsion. “Stop-” you choked. “Shh,” he murmured, and that was when you felt the sharp prick in your neck. You yelped and writhed on the floor, but you were still pinned, and fading fast. He stood up soon after, drawing back the needle as your vision blurred. The last thing you saw before the drugs hit you was his sick smirk, but you had no energy left to hate him with. All you could think about was that if he was right, and it did take them days to find you, it would be too late. If he left without your insulin, you would be dead within the next 48 hours.

You woke up on the floor, lying on your back with sweat beaded on your forehead. You were staring up at the ceiling, a dim, flickering light illuminating the tiny room you were in. Your head pounded relentlessly as you sat up, and when you reached up to feel the gash on your head, it was coated with dried blood. You glanced around warily and found that you were in a dusty bathroom, but it was completely devoid of anything but toilet paper, a few protein bars, and a bottle of water on the floor. The shower didn’t even have a curtain. You heard footsteps approaching from outside, and when Theo stepped inside the bathroom, you glared at him. “Good, you’re awake,” he said, kneeling next to you. “We can talk.” “Yeah, we can,” you told him. “You wouldn’t have happened to grabbed my insulin would you?” Theo frowned. “What?” “I’m a diabetic,” you practically snarled. “Scott told you that when you were trying to be a part of the pack. Guess it wasn’t important enough for you to remember.” Theo’s jaw clenched. “So what? It’s not like you’re going to be eating anything too sweet in here while I have you trapped.” You shook your head in frustration. “That’s not...you don’t understand. I’ve had diabetes since I was a kid. My body doesn’t produce insulin like yours, and if I go too long without it, it doesn’t matter what I eat. I’ll get sick, really sick.” Theo huffed. “What do you mean sick?” “My blood sugar will go up,” you told him. “I’ll throw up, I’ll pass out, and I could slip into a coma.” “And exactly how long will this take?” “Considering I haven’t taken my insulin since lunch? And...wait what time is it?” “About 12am,” he told you. “Why?” You closed your eyes, and you could feel yourself beginning to freak out. You would gladly die for Scott, or for any other member of the pack, but you would rather give your life for something meaningful, and slipping into a diabetic coma on the floor of Theo’s empty bathroom was not what you would call a heroic death. “Because I haven’t had any insulin since three,” you informed him bitterly. “And if I don’t get some soon, I’m going to get sick. I’ll be in a coma within two days.” Theo looked at you for a few moments, and then his lips curled into a sick smirk. “Then you better hope Scott finds you in 48 hours.” You glared up at him, but he simply smirked at you and backed away. You tried to lunge for the door, but you were a little too late, and by then, he was already slipping out and shutting it in your face. It rattled with the force of the slam, shaking against the frame and sealing your fate.

About an hour after Malia dropped you off, she began to worry. You hadn’t answered any of her texts, and you always answered, no matter what. She glanced over at the clock, saw that it was past ten, and decided to call Scott. “Hey, Malia, what’s up?” he asked when he picked up. “Are you with Y/n?” she demanded. “Uh, no?” he offered. “I’ve been with Stiles all night. I just got home though, and she’s probably here.” “I dropped her off an hour ago,” she told him. “But I haven’t heard from her since.” “Huh,” Scott said. “That’s kind of weird, but she might have fallen asleep.” “She was supposed to eat something,” Malia informed him. “She said she would. And she always answers, Scott.” “Malia,” Scott said gently. “I’m sure she’s fine. I know you care about her, but I’m walking in right now and I’m sure she’s-” Scott stopped suddenly, and Malia heard his sharp intake of breath. “Scott, what’s-” “Y/n?!” she could hear him shouting. “Y/n, where are you?! Y/n?!” She could hear his footsteps thumping on the floor, on the stairs, but he still wouldn’t answer. She felt a sharp, icy fear set over her, even without knowing what Scott had seen. He would tell her later, after searching the house and coming up with nothing but your discarded insulin pen and blood. There were droplets of it on the kitchen floor and on the doorframe, and a broken broom was cast off to the side. Your insulin pen was lying on the floor next to your bag, with the cap a few inches away. You went everywhere with your insulin, and the fact that you had just left an unused pen on the floor sent Scott into a panic. “Malia,” he croaked, raising the phone back up to his ear. “She’s gone. My sister’s gone...and I think I know who took her.”

You curled up on the floor of Theo’s bathroom, clearing your dry throat over and over. You were desperately thirsty, and you had already finished off the bottle of water he had left for you. You knew you should have been trying to save it, but if you didn’t keep drinking water, you would only get worse. You could already feel yourself getting sick, and the nausea you felt was so persistent that you didn’t even feel like you could stand up without throwing up. It felt like hours since the last time Theo had opened the door, and you were beginning to think you would die in a fucking bathroom. You shifted on your side and closed your eyes, but you felt too sick to even think about sleeping. Letting out a groan of frustration, you pulled yourself up into a sitting position, even though you felt like you could barely keep your head up. Just doing that sent another wave of nausea through you, and you darted for the toilet. As you retched, you heard something outside the bathroom. Theo had placed something under the door so you couldn’t open it from the inside, but you heard the familiar scraping sound of him moving whatever it was. The door opened behind you, and you looked up at him with a weak glare. “Damn. You weren’t wrong.” “Go to hell,” you breathed, leaning back from the toilet and slumping against the tub. “I’ve already been,” he told you with a smirk. “But I think we should give Scott a call, don’t you?” “He’ll never give you what you want,” you told him weakly. “Not if it gets someone else killed.” “We’ll see,” Theo told you, pulling out a disposable cellphone. He held the phone to his ear, and to his surprise, Scott picked up on the first ring. “That was fast.” “Where the hell is my sister?” you heard Scott demand. “Theo, I swear to god-” “Relax,” Theo told him, rolling his eyes. “She’s right here.” He pulled the phone away from his ear and tapped the speaker button, and then held it up to your face. “Say hi, Y/n.” “Scott,” you gushed. “You can’t listen to him, okay? You can’t trust anything-” Theo quickly clapped his hand over your mouth, and raised his eyebrows at you. “See? She’s okay. She is getting sick though. I think she’s thrown up about...three times? Yeah, three times in the past hour. Is that a bad sign?” “She needs her insulin,” Scott breathed. “Theo, whatever you want-” “You’ll give it to me,” he finished for him. “Because if not, your baby sister’s going to die, and I don’t even have to kill her.” “What do you need?” Scott asked bitterly. “The talons,” he stated. “I want them. And you’re going to come alone. No Stilinski, no Malia. And trust me, I’ll know.” “Where?” Scott asked. “Where do I bring them?” “I’ll text you directions,” he said. “Once I have them, I’ll tell you where Y/n is.” “Fine,” Scott growled. “And you might wanna send some insulin with whoever comes to find her,” Theo added cockily. “She’s not looking so good.” With that, Theo turned off the phone and took his hand off your mouth “He’ll never bring them,” you spat. “He’d never help you kill somebody.” “I think you underestimate how much Scott loves you,” he said. “But it’s not him I want something from. It’s Malia.” You bristled at the mention of her name. “If you even think about hurting her-” “You’ll what?” he asked. “You’ll kill me? Because I don’t know if you can.” You glared at him, but he simply sighed. “You can save the cliches. I’m not planning on hurting her. I’m just doing a favor for someone else.” “The person who brought you back?” you questioned. Theo tilted his head. “You’re smarter than I gave you credit for, but yes. And all she wants is the talons.” “The talons?” you asked. “The ones you were going to use to take Scott’s power.” “Those are the ones,” Theo agreed. “Wait,” you told him. “It was the Desert Wolf, wasn’t it? She brought you back. Braeden told us she escaped from custody, but...we didn’t think she’d come after Malia again.” “Of course she wouldn’t,” Theo told you. “Not when she’s powerless. But she might have stolen Kira’s sword and used it to ask me for a favor.” “You’re gonna give her the claws,” you whispered sharply. “You’re gonna help her kill Malia.” Theo scoffed. “God, no. What’s that psychotic bitch ever done for me? I’m gonna take them for myself, and then when your big brother comes to save you, I’m going to do what I should have done a long time ago.” “You’re gonna kill him,” you realized. Theo nodded. “And unfortunately for you, he’s not going to find out where you are unless it’s right before he takes his last breath.” You closed your eyes. “You’re a monster. What did we ever do to you?” “Hm, I don’t know,” he mused. “You might have ruined my plans to rule this town and then helped my dead sister drag me into the ground.” “Karma’s a bitch,” you said softly. Theo scoffed. “And yet I’m back, and you’re here.” You closed your eyes, feeling exhaustion wash over you at his words. He had a point, but you refused to believe that he would get away with killing you and Scott. “Even if I’m dead,” you said softly. “Even if you kill Scott, someone will come for you. And they’ll kill you.” The smirk fell from Theo’s face, and he rose from the ground. “We’ll see about that.”

Scott walked back inside from the front porch. It was still dark outside, and the sun was just about to rise, but he had been awake all night. They had called Stiles’ dad, who put out an APB on you, but they were hesitant to do anything more. When Theo took you, Scott knew that more police could complicate things, so it was only Stilinski who showed up at your house. He reached for the door, but before he could even put his hand on the knob, Malia swung it wide open. “Who were you talking to?” she demanded. Scott sighed, glancing inside at the congregation in his living room. Your mom was sitting there, holding a mug of tea and talking to the sheriff. Her eyes were red from crying, and Scott wanted to comfort her, but how could he when he felt like this was his fault? The Sheriff was standing next to her with his hand on her shoulder, and Stiles was sitting across from them on the couch. Liam was right by his side, tapping his foot nervously. “Theo,” Scott said bitterly. “What?” Malia demanded. “He called? Was Y/n with him? Is she okay?” “She’s alive,” Scott offered. “But she sounds weak. She’s getting sick.” “How sick?” Malia snarled. “I’m not sure,” Scott told her. “Malia-” “I’m going to rip him apart,” Malia spat. “Did he say what he wanted?” “Look, I think everyone should hear this,” Scott told her. Malia nodded and started to head back inside. “Come on.” Scott and Malia walked into the living room, and as they did, everyone looked up. They saw the grave looks on their faces, and a sinking feeling spread throughout the room. “What?” Stiles asked. “What happened?” “Theo called me,” Scott explained. “He does have Y/n. He said that he’d tell me where she was if I brought him the talons that Malia used to stop the Desert Wolf.” “Oh god,” your mom breathed. “Please tell me he took her insulin.” Scott shook his head softly, and she let out a sob. “Oh god, no. No, she’ll get sick.” “She’s already sick,” Scott told her. “Which is why we need to do this fast.” “We can’t just give him the talons,” Stiles stated. “Scott, he’ll kill you. Besides, we don’t even have them.” “I know,” Scott said. “Which is why I have a plan. You guys know Deaton hid them, but he keeps a replica in the clinic in case anyone comes looking. We can use that, and bring it to Theo.” “But he’ll know, won’t he?” Liam asked. “He’ll realize they’re fake.” “Not until he uses them,” Malia stated. “Right?” “Right,” Scott agreed. “So all I have to do is give him the talons and keep him talking. He’s going to try and kill me, but it’s not going to work.” “Wait,” the Sheriff cut in. “Now how are you so sure he’s going to try to kill you? He already failed. Is he going to risk that again?” “He didn’t have the talons then,” Scott reminded him. “But now he thinks he’s guaranteed a way to steal my power. I know Theo, and that’s something he won’t be able to pass up.” “You can’t go alone,” your mom told him, brushing back strands of curly dark hair from her face. “I have to,” Scott said. “At least within his hearing distance. He’ll know if someone’s close, and then he’ll never tell us where Y/n is.” “I can be a few streets away,” Malia offered. “So can Liam. We can be listening in.” “That works,” Scott said. “Mom, don’t worry. I’ll be fine. And we’re going to get Y/n back.” She nodded and walked over to the kitchen table. She set down her mug and grabbed two insulin pens and then handed them to Scott and Malia. “When you find her, you need to give her this. Pop off the cap, and inject it into her abdomen as soon as you can. She’s gonna need to go to the hospital, but this can tide her over until she can get an IV.” “We’re gonna find her Melissa,” Malia promised. “And I’m going to kill Theo myself.” “Thank you, Malia,” she told her. “Just make sure she’s safe.” Malia nodded firmly. Theo seemed to have a knack for hurting everyone she loved, and she wasn’t about to let him hurt anyone else. She was going to find you, and she was going to keep you safe.

Scott’s bike rumbled as he pulled into the parking garage. Theo had texted him directions piece by piece, just to ensure that no one would follow him, but Malia, Liam and Stiles were a few streets away in the jeep. That had been following him up until that point, and hopefully, Theo had no idea that they were listening in. He pulled his helmet off and set it down, and then pulled the jar with the talons out of backpack. Theo was nowhere in sight, but a sharp laugh from behind an SUV told Scott exactly where he was. “Look who is it,” Theo mocked, coming out from behind the car. “The Great Scott McCall.” “Where’s my sister, Theo?” he demanded, holding the talons away from him. Theo smirked. “Come on, McCall. You know I can’t tell you that until you give me those talons.” “Theo, please,” Scott begged. “She’s going to die if we don’t get to her. I know you hate me, but-” “I don’t hate you,” Theo cut him off. “I just want what you have. And you’re going to give it to me, or she dies.” Scott let out a long, deep breath. He looked down at the jar in his hands, and then he tossed it to Theo. “Here. Now where is she?” Theo smiled down at the jar, and unscrewed the lid. He dumped the talons into his hand and examined them. “Beautiful, aren’t they?” Scott didn’t answer him, but Theo kept talking anyway. “It’s not a natural beauty, but a lot of manmade things can be beautiful.” “The Dread Doctors weren’t exactly men,” Scott remarked. Theo chuckled. “No they were not.” He stuck his fingers into the talons with a small grunt of pain and examined them. “Theo, where is my sister?” Scott asked, eyeing his hand. Theo smirked at him. “Somewhere safe. Don’t worry, I didn’t torture her.” “Theo, please,” Scott begged, walking forward. “Just tell me-” Theo stepped forward to meet him, and before Scott could even blink, the Chimera was plunging his claws into Scott. “Y/n-” he choked. “She’s in my old house,” Theo whispered in her ear. “But it’s not like you’ll ever see her again.” He twisted his claws inside of Scott, and the Alpha felt blood begin to well up in his mouth. Theo was grinning down at him, but as he dug his claws further into his skin, he realized the talons weren’t working. “What?” he snarled down at Scott. “What the hell is this?” “You tricked us,” Scott said weakly. “So we tricked you.” Theo snarled and tore his claws out of Scott, but a roar echoed through the parking garage. The Chimera watched in rage as Liam sprinted toward him, his eyes glowing yellow. “Y/n,” Scott began, flicking out his claws. “She’s-” “Malia heard,” Liam promised him. “They’re on their way over right now. They’ll save her.”

“Y/n?! Y/n, are you here?!” Your cheek was pressed against the tile when you heard someone calling for you. You were curled up on the floor of the bathroom, sick and disoriented. Part of you believed that the voice calling for you was nothing more than a hallucination, but when that door opened, you realized it wasn’t true. “Oh god, Y/n!” a familiar voice cried. You blinked and stared above you, and you could just barely make out Malia’s blurry face above you. “Mals?” “You’re gonna be okay,” she promised, reaching out to lift up your shirt. “We’re gonna take you to the hospital.” You nodded weakly, and that was when you felt the prick of the insulin pen going into your side. Relief washed over you, and your eyes slid shut. You drifted off right after Malia picked you up in her arms.

You opened your eyes a few hours later, only to find that you were no longer lying on a dusty bathroom floor. You were in the hospital, an IV tube sticking out of your arm, and Malia was sitting right next to your bed. She was gripping your hand in hers, and when you woke up, her lips turned up. “Hey, Beautiful,” she said softly. You smiled and squeezed her hand. “You saved me.” She shrugged, glancing down at your brother, who was asleep in a chair across the room. “Scott saved you. He got stabbed by Theo.” “Oh god,” you breathed. “With the talons?” “It’s alright,” Malia assured. “He healed. And we used fake ones. He’s still an alpha. Not that he wouldn’t mind giving it up to make sure you’re safe.” “I know,” you said softly. “I’m just glad he’s okay. What happened to Theo?” “Since we don’t know where the sword is, he’s in Eichen House,” Malia told you. “But as soon as we find it, I’m personally putting his ass in the ground.” “The Desert Wolf,” you stated suddenly. “She has it. That’s what Theo said. She wanted him to get the talons and give them to her so she could kill you, but he wanted them for himself instead.” “I’m not worried about her,” Malia promised. “She may have a gun, but I’m more powerful. And I have a pack.” “You also have one grateful girlfriend,” you told her softly. “I know,” she whispered to you, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “Do you want me to get your mom? She’s been checking on you all day, but I think she has to do rounds.” You shook your head. “She’ll escape and come see me anyway. I just wanna lay here for a few minutes.” Malia nodded. “How are you feeling?” “A lot better than I was last night,” you informed her. “I’ll be okay. I just need to rest.” “Yeah,” she agreed. “Do you want me to go so you can get some rest?” “No way,” you told her with a scoff. “Come up here with me.” Malia grinned as you shifted to the side of the tiny bed, and she eagerly kicked off her boots and cuddled up next to you. You leaned into her and buried your face in her shoulder. “I love you, Mals.” “I love you too,” she said softly, reaching up to run her fingers through your hair. You smiled and turned on your side, and Malia reached out to wrap her arms around your waist. She buried her face in your neck and softly ran her hand over your hair, listening to your breathing even out as you drifted off to sleep. She smiled into your hair and closed her own eyes, thinking about how lucky she was to have you by her side. God, she loved you.

#teen wolf #malia tate imagines #selfignitingimagines #teen wolf imagines

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