Tumgik
#found family and natural settings <- you can pry them from my cold dead fingers
Text
five things that you never get tired of writing
I was tagged by @zaffrenotes - thanks D!  
Rules: List 5 things you never get tired of writing - it can be tropes, themes, characters, phrases, whatever brings you joy. Tag 5 people!
in no particular order: 
found family. choosing the people that matter most, unexpectedly strong or close bonds forming between people, accepting differences and supporting one another.  
natural settings. tree lines and coastlines, mountains and fields and ferns and sunsets, lakes, oceans, waterfalls, twilight and starlight and all the colors and smells and sounds, post-apocalyptic forests and extraterrestrial fauna and leaves changing in the fall.  
smooches. all kinds. breathless ones and sleepy ones, tiny pecks on the cheek and kisses to shut the other person up, goodbye kisses and first kisses and light little brushes, words kissed onto skin and kisses that say more than words. 
myths & magic. legends and prophecies, special abilities, fantastical creatures, the force and the currents and the future and all that jazz. 
flangst. fluff + angst. mixing the bad with the good, putting them through it but making it worth it (i hope), getting through tough times together, hurt and sadness but also comfort and happiness, trust and sacrifice but also warmth and healing. 
tagging a few who might want to play along (but of course anyone who sees this is welcome to!) : @something-tofightfor @oonajaeadira @insomniamamma @writeforfandoms @littlemisspascal
59 notes · View notes
Text
Miracles -- Part 3
07/04/2021: Here it is!! The one, the only, the... 6.1k words of purely self indulgent protective!Jacob (lowkey been doing it for everyone and their mother except for when with the reader and idk why bc i dig that shit too)
I really hope you guys enjoy this, because I loved writing it!! There's a chance I could sneak in a last chapter if people wanted that? Feedback would be greatly appreciated!! This is super long, so sit down and get comfy :)
Pry these commas from my cold, dead hands tho. Also, I HC Jacob to be predominantly left-handed, but that's just me aha.
Warnings: Bit of violence, swearing, corporal punishment, arson (without giving too much away)
Tagging: @marshmallow--3 // @missingfrye // @ct-5445 // @iceboundstar // @rahdaleigh // @pink-polarfox // @b3k1720 // @itseivwhore // @sofiewithat // @missbenzayb
Assassin's Creed Mobile Masterlist
Red Dead Redemption 2 Mobile Masterlist
Part 1 HERE, Part 2 HERE
Tumblr media
The night was cold.
You retreated further under the blankets, turning to rest your head on your beloved’s chest. You wore an oversized shirt, and he wore a loose pair of breeches. His arm pulled you closer, fingers stroking your bicep. In turn, you traced the Rook painted on his chest. “Jacob?”
He turned to gaze down at you, lips inches from your forehead. “Yes, my love?”
“My family have written to me; they would like me to visit them in Warwick.”
“Your family lives quite far,” Jacob remarked, smiling adoringly at you. “Will you and Lily be alright travelling by yourselves?”
You sighed. “That’s the problem.” Sitting up, you gently grasped Jacob’s hand, playing with his fingers. “They don’t know that Lily exists, and I have no chance of telling them that I have a child without the status of ‘wife’.”
“I see…” Jacob watched you trace the lines on his hand. “Is there anything I can do?”
Propose, you idiot.
“Could you look after Lily while I’m away?”
“On my own?” His fingers tightened around yours.
“I trust you with her, Jacob. You’re the only one I can trust her with.”
He sucked in a breath. “Are you sure?”
“Stop doubting yourself.” You kissed his temple. “Besides, she adores you; she’ll listen to you.”
“Alright then. It’s decided.”
“Thank you, my love. However can I make it up to you?”
Sensing the humour in your tone, Jacob winked. “I can think of a few things.”
You laughed to yourself as you blew out your candle, the darkness enveloping the room as you pulled yourself closer to Jacob, the security of his arms lulling you to sleep.
----------
Before you knew it, you were packing a carriage with your luggage, setting off for the journey ahead. Jacob was standing in the doorway of your house, Lily resting on his hip. “Mama, do you have to go?”
“Sweetheart, if I don’t, then horrible Aunt Susan will come marching all the way down here herself, and we don’t want that, do we?” Lily shook her head, giggling.
“She’s not the only one who’s going to miss you.” Jacob wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. Smiling, he dipped his head to lock his lips with yours.
“Yuck!”
The both of you pulled apart, chuckling.
“Well, I best be going. Don’t get into any trouble; I know what you both are like unsupervised.”
Sharing mischievous looks, they began to wave as you got into the carriage.
“Bye, Mama!”
“Safe travels, my love!”
You watched as they recede from view, the picture of your perfect family playing in your mind as hooves against cobblestone played in your ears.
As soon as the carriage turned the corner, Jacob turned to Lily. “What do you fancy doing?”
Lily giggled. “I have school!”
Jacob mockingly rolled his eyes. “That is the worst answer I’ve ever heard.”
“Are you saying I can skip?”
As much as he’d want to say yes, you would have punted him six ways from Sunday. “‘fraid not, love.” He took her inside. “But I can promise that afterwards, I’ll take you to get iced cream.” Lily cheered in victory before she hopped down, scurrying to collect her things for the day ahead.
----------
Jacob walked Lily to school that morning, keeping her on his left and away from the curb. He grasped her hand firmly, lest she get lost in the rushing crowd. When he approached the building, he saw various parents saying goodbye to their children, as well as some children arriving on their own.
He knelt down to her height, tidying her windswept appearance with a reassuring grin. “You have a good day, alright?”
Smiling widely, she nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Thank you, Papa.”
Wait, what?
Jacob’s breath caught in his throat. Lost for words, he kissed her head and returned the hug tenfold. “I love you, angel.”
“Love you too!”
The bell rang moments after, causing Lily to pull away. “Don’t be late!” Waving, she ran to catch up with her friends and disappeared into the building. Standing up, Jacob cleared his throat and tugged on his waistcoat to compose himself, though he could barely stifle his grin. The warmth in his heart engulfed his chest. He walked past the rest of the parents as if he were walking on clouds, his happiness fixed for the day.
----------
“What’s got you in such a good mood today?” Evie asked her brother, watching incredulously as she found him tidying his train carriage.
“Oh, nothing.” Although his tone was dismissive, his face told a completely different story.
“Did you… have a good night?”
“Oh, no.” Chuckling, he sifted through the papers on his desk. “Y/N’s headed to Warwick.”
Puzzled, Evie tilted her head. “Free beer?”
“Nope.” He popped the ‘P’.
“Come on, then; what is it? You can’t expect me to keep guessing forever.”
Restraining himself from jumping for joy, he turned to his sister. “Lily called me ‘Papa’.”
Evie’s face lit up. “Oh, Jacob, that’s lovely! Does this mean you’ll…” She mimicked opening a ring box.
Blushing, he nodded, a toothy grin plastered on his face. “I’m excited, Evie. I… I need to sit down.”
He leaned back on the sofa, tossing his hat beside him. Running a hand through his hair, he sighed. “Are you alright?” Evie took a chair to sit opposite him.
“I… I’ve never felt this much joy in my life.”
“Jacob Frye, you’re practically speechless.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
“You have to buy the rings before Y/N comes back.”
“I will. Maybe Lily will want to come with me. Not yet, though; I don’t want to spring the news on her immediately.”
Evie began to talk about the type of engagement ring you would find the most appealing, but Jacob had all but zoned out. He was fidgeting with the iron band on his right index finger, engraved on the inside with the Assassin’s Insignia. Barely thinking, he removed it and switched hands, sliding it on his ring finger.
He was going to get married. You were going to be his wife.
“What if she doesn’t say ‘yes’?” A sudden anxiety clutched his heart as he looked up in worry.
Evie was stunned into silence. “What are you talking about?! Of course she’s going to say yes!”
“She has a child to think about; what if she doesn’t want to get married at all?”
“Jacob,” she sighed. “She knows you’d do anything for Lily. You’ve done it right from the beginning.” He shifted in his seat as a phantom pain clutched his side, remembering his tussle with Thomas Lynch. “She would be insane not to want someone like you as a husband, and as a father to her child.”
“When did you learn to talk like that?” Jacob smirked.
“When you’re the eldest, you learn a thing or two.”
“Bullshit.” He scoffed, but wordlessly thanked her for the reassurance.
“Knock knock.” Eyes fixed on the doorway as Henry peered around the corner. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but I need some papers from Jacob.”
“Right; which ones?” He stood up and closed the two meter gap to the pile of half sorted paperwork.
“The ones on James Brudenell.”
“Who?” He frowned.
“Lord Cardigan.”
“Oh, that prick…” He thumbed through the various files, quickly getting to the end with no sign of the desired intel. “I must’ve left it at the house. I’ll head off there now and bring them to you tomorrow.”
“Can you not come back straight away?”
“I need to get to the school; there won’t be enough time. I’m taking Lily out for that new iced cream.” Evie quirked her lips into a knowing smile. “What?”
“Oh, nothing,” she shrugged.
Shaking his head, Jacob grabbed his hat and opened the door, watching the train slow into the station. “See you tomorrow.”
“Don’t forget the--”
“The papers, yes, I’ll get them!” By then, he had already jumped onto the platform, disappearing into the crowd.
----------
On the stroll back to the house, Jacob checked his pocket watch, planning his time accordingly. He’ll find the papers, finish the paperwork that should’ve been completed two weeks ago, and head to the school.
The street seemed unusually quiet at this time in the afternoon, but Jacob only grew concerned when he noticed a lack of Rooks. Usually, there would be more and more scattered around the closer he grew to the house, but so far he could count them all on one hand. A scuffling from behind him pricked at his ears. He spun, brows furrowed, but the road was empty, save for a carriage calmly trotting past. He used it as a reassurance that he was probably acting paranoid, and continued where he was heading, albeit at a faster pace.
The secure feeling he felt upon approaching the house eased the weight on his chest. Pulling out his key, he wasted no time in disappearing inside. It was quiet without you, and there was the familiar longing he felt in his heart. Sighing, he mentally crossed off another minute until he could hold you in his arms again.
He moved upstairs and into his study. At the prospect of spending more time with him, you jumped at the chance to make a spare empty room a working office. He hung his jacket and hat on a coat rack, taking a seat at the desk. The natural light coming through the window landed perfectly on the wood, illuminating the workspace without the need for candles. Jacob searched his drawers, finding the file with relative ease. He grabbed a dip pen, opened an ink pot, and quickly began scrawling details down.
He was lost in thought at the memory of his encounter with Lord Cardigan when a crude knocking hit the door downstairs. Jacob froze, focusing on the noise outside. All business was kept around the train; he sternly told Evie and Henry not to give out the address to anyone. The only other people who would have had an idea where he was were the Rooks stationed around the street, but they were loyal -- were they not as trustworthy as he thought? Who was at the door?
Harsher thuds against the door made his heart leap. He moved slowly; inch by inch, he stood and crept towards the door, pulling out the cane from his coat as quietly as he could. His boots barely made a sound as he headed down the stairs, hand calmly turning the knob to open the door.
On the other side stood two gentlemen, waiting almost expectantly. “Can I help you?” Jacob asked, tone laced with suspicion.
The two exchanged looks before one started to speak. “Pardon me, sir, but would you be interested in purchasing some humbugs? We’re opening a new shop not too far from here. We thought we could go from door to door to begin our business endeavours.”
Eyes flitting between the two, unease began to set in. “No, thank you.”
“Understood. Have a nice day.” The other tipped his hat and turned to leave as Jacob slowly shut the door again.
“What…?” He’s had bankers act more persuasive than these men. They did not seem that interested in sales. His eyes scanned the room, as if that would give him answers to a most peculiar interaction. In a second, his heart jumped as they landed on the clock. If he didn’t leave now, he’d be late to pick up Lily. He grabbed his coat and hat from upstairs and burst out of the door, rushing in the direction of the school.
----------
He made the journey by the skin of his teeth, jogging almost the entire way. As soon as he approached, the bell rang, and children began to flood out of the doors. He stood by a tree and scanned the children as they continued to rush out. A few moments later, Lily emerged, nervously clutching her hands together as she scanned the adults around her. Jacob frowned and walked towards her, concern growing. He could see the upset growing as she at first couldn’t see him. “Lily!”
As soon as she heard her name, her gaze immediately landed on the source and took off running towards him. He knelt just in time for her to jump into his arms, face hiding in his neck. “Hey, are you--” He was cut off by the sound of sobs. “Okay, alright, it’s alright, angel.” Confused, he picked her up and went to sit on a bench overlooking the playground, shushing her gently.
Cradled in one arm, Jacob used his free arm to reach into his pocket, bringing out his flask. “Take a drink, sweetheart.” She gingerly took the container, taking a few gulps of the fresh water inside. “Now, tell me what happened.” He tried to speak softly, to not provoke more tears.
“I didn’t do it! They think I did, but I didn’t!”
“What didn’t you do?”
“Throw a rock.”
“Even if you did do that, it’s only a rock.”
“It hit the teacher!”
Jacob was silent for a minute. If they thought she pelted a rock at the teacher, there would have been harsh punishments…
“Please believe me; I promise I didn’t do it!”
Shocked, Jacob pulled her closer. “Of course I believe you! Why wouldn’t I?” His eyes landed on her fists, which have barely opened since he saw her, save for the flask. “Can I see your hands?”
She nodded, and Jacob shifted her against his shoulder so he could use both hands as he slowly uncurled her fingers. Her palms were a stark red, the clear markings of a cane riddled her skin almost completely; and they looked like the instrument hit hard. He quietly asked for the other one, inspecting them with the care one would give to a newborn, brows furrowing at the sight. Lily watched his eyes moving constantly across her hands. The thought of letting her father down ushered tears to the surface. Jacob’s eyes caught hers watering. “Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry…”
“You have nothing to be sorry for, love. Do you know who really did it?”
Nodding slowly, she pointed to the playground to a boy who was laughing by a group of children who were playing with marbles. “Oliver.”
“Okay.” The two of them stayed there for a while as Lily continued to calm down.
Just as Lily began to smile at Jacob’s conversation, a shadow overcame the both of them. Jacob felt her recoiling into his side. He looked up to see a weathered looking man with a styled moustache and a stiff looking suit, a hand against the back of his head. “So, she’s yours.” The slight tone of disapproval channeled an urge of protectiveness inside him. He sat Lily behind him on the bench as he stood toe to toe with the teacher.
“Is there a problem?” Jacob’s eyes assessed the man from head to toe, noting the thin cane that he leaned on.
“You should be ashamed of your daughter’s behaviour.”
“Why? She did nothing wrong.”
“On the contrary…” Turning around, he removed the cloth on his head, revealing a jagged cut along the back of his head.
“It wasn’t me, sir! It really wasn’t!” Lily was begging for her teacher to believe her.
“Then who was it?”
Lily stood up on the bench still hiding behind Jacob’s shoulder but managing to equal his height. “Him.”
Her finger showed Oliver laughing at someone who had tripped over a skipping rope.
“Do you really think that she would do something like this?” Jacob raised an eyebrow.
Neither agreeing or disagreeing, he instead gestured with his cane. “I’m watching you, Y/L/N.” Jacob narrowed his eyes. “I would be mindful of your attitude towards my daughter.”
Grumbling, the teacher turned and walked away. “Oliver!”
“Th-Thank you.” A sniffling from behind him softed his face and melted his heart.
“Let’s go, angel. There’s some iced cream with our name on it.”` He hoisted Lily on his hip and headed in the direction of home, hoping that the anger would dissipate with each passing step.
----------
The house came into view shortly after Jacob left the sweet shop, two cardboard pots of the cold dessert in their hands. “This is delicious!” Lily was almost her normal self again over the journey home, relinquishing details of the day as they closed the short distance to the house. Placing Lily on the floor, he took out his key and pushed it into the lock, turning the knob. Without turning the key, the door opened. He must’ve forgotten to lock it when he left the house earlier. Brushing it off, he opened the door the rest of the way and stepped aside for Lily to enter first. He checked the rest of the street one more time for anything out of the ordinary before shutting and locking the door behind him, acting safe rather than sorry.
A slight smell filled his nose as he walked into the room. It was barely there, but he could smell something. Unfocusing his eyes, he watched as colours flooded his vision. Looking around, he couldn’t spot anything strange right away, but the smell was in the air and it set him on edge. Shaking his head, he rubbed his eyes. He had felt more emotion in one day than he had for a long time, and his body had worn him out. “Are you hungry, Lily?”
She sat at the kitchen table. “A little bit.”
“Anything you particularly fancy tonight?”
“Hmm… Sausages and potatoes!”
Jacob chuckled at her excitement. “Consider it done, my lady.”
----------
Dinner was over and done with by the time the sun set below the skyline. Jacob helped Lily get ready for bed before tucking her in. “When’s Mama coming home?” she asked, playing with Jacob’s hair.
“Hopefully in a few days; Warwick is surprisingly far, even by carriage.”
“Thank you. For believing me.”
Jacob smiled sombrely. “I will always believe you. That also reminds me…” He reached into the bedside drawer and pulled out a small pot of salve. “May I?” Lily offered her hands, and Jacob gently rubbed the ointment over her raw skin.
“It’s cold.”
“It’s supposed to get rid of the pain. How do they feel?”
She nodded. “Good.”
As he returned the salve to the table, he took a breath, steeling himself to give either the best news or the worst news.
“How would you feel… if I asked your mother--”
“To marry you?!” Her eyes widened, her smile reaching her ears. “Yes!”
She jumped out of the covers to hug Jacob tightly. He reciprocated, closing his eyes to savour the moment. “Please ask her,” she whispered.
“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Giggles filled the air as he pulled the covers over her again.
“Thank you, for letting me in.”
“You make Mama happy. That’s all I want.”
Jacob sighed, a small smile playing on his lips. “You’re wise beyond your years.” He leant down to kiss her forehead. “Goodnight, angel.” He stood up and blew out the candle.
“Goodnight, Papa.” Lily didn’t miss the way Jacob’s eyes crinkled as he smiled, shutting the door quietly.
He poked his head into his study, sighing when he saw his half-finished paperwork that needed to be handed to Greenie the next morning. Every fibre in his being resisted, but he knew his procrastination would catch up to him eventually. So he sat down, lit a candle, and tried to wrap everything up in as little time as possible.
About half an hour went by before Jacob finished the long overdue paperwork. Struggling to keep his eyes open, he went downstairs to the spare room he kept his bedclothes in. He fell backwards onto the bed. “Just five minutes…” he bartered with himself, resting his eyes.
----------
A scream made his blood run cold.
Bolting upright, Jacob immediately noticed plumes of smoke coming in from underneath the door, the burning smell inviting a cough from his lungs.
The house was on fire.
He lunged for the doorknob, the metal quickly searing his skin. His fingers clenched around the knob reflexively. “Ah, fuck!” He shook out his hand, watching as the flesh blistered in front of his eyes. Turning around, he dug around in the chest of drawers for extra clothes to wrap around the knob, turning and pulling swiftly before the heat travelled through the fabric. The door burst open. Jacob ducked as the flames whipped around the open space, newly fed by the released oxygen. Fresh smoke engulfed the room; Jacob inhaled a lungful as it blew towards him. He cleared his chest as he fanned the smoke away. Wrapping the clothes around his arm as a guard, he braced himself and ran upstairs, only one thing on his mind.
“Lily?!” The flames had almost completely engulfed the lower floor; he was surprised and relieved that he had managed to dodge any falling debris. “Lily!” He covered the metal with the clothes as he reached her door, slowly peeling the door away and slipping through as small a gap as he could, avoiding the mistake he made earlier. He closed the door behind him, the air luckily cleaner in her bedroom. “Lily, where are you?!”
He checked under the bed, and began to grow panicked when he couldn’t find her. He heard the scream, but nothing else. What if…
He swallowed, trying to ease the tight band in his chest.
Opening the wardrobe, he practically collapsed in relief when he saw Lily cowering in the corner. “Come to me, angel.” She dived into his arms, quivering in fear. “It’s alright, we’ll get out. I need you to be brave for me, okay?”
“Okay.” Her voice was shaking.
He looked around for a quick exit, eyes landing on a window. He led Lily over and unlatched it, pushing it with his uninjured hand, albeit with difficulty. Leaning out, the air cleansed his lungs. He hoisted Lily onto the windowsill to give her fresher air, holding her to make sure she doesn’t fall out. She clutched onto him tightly. He noted how it opened into an alleyway. He heard the bells of police and fire engines around the front of the house.
“HEY! OVER HERE!” A man peered around the corner. “HEY! HELP!”
“We can’t fit the ladder through here! You have to go around the front!”
Jacob blinked. “Have you gone mad?!”
“There’s a small window around the front, looks like the landing. You better make a move before it’s no longer an option!”
“Can’t you just climb down?” Lily mumbled, mind in shock.
Jacob inspected his blistering palm; it felt as if he was still holding the doorknob. Slowly, he put pressure on his hand against the windowsill. The pain immediately bubbled up his arm. Biting his lip, he tried to pull himself onto the windowsill. With his weight, it was maybe possible, since he could drop higher than normal and roll once he hit the floor. With Lily, that wasn’t an option.
“I can’t risk it.”
“Well?!” The man was still there, watching him.
“Be ready!” Jacob pulled Lily into him. “I need you to breathe into this, alright, angel?” She nodded slowly. He gave her one of the shirts wrapped around his arm. “Close your eyes.”
“Should I count to ten?”
“It shouldn’t take any longer, love.”
Taking a second to compose himself, he wrapped his hand up and opened the door, squeezing through as little as he could before shutting the door again. He made a beeline for the end of the hall, dodging the flames as they grew nearer, licking the edge of the wooden floor. Reaching the window was the easy part. The hard part was opening the damn thing. It felt heavier than it usually did, and he strained his free hand to push it to the top. Outside, firemen were already level with the window, waiting for the two of them to emerge.
“One of you at a time.” Without hesitating, Jacob leaned out of the window, one arm reaching Lily out of the window, while the other stopped him from falling out himself.
Just as the firemen approached, Jacob heard a crack above him. “Take her. Take her now!” The urgency in his voice paid off, as he jumped out of the way of a falling support beam, blocking his way out. He hit the floor, covering his face as embers flew around him
Lily crying out caused his heart to flip, but he managed to catch a glimpse of her safely in the arms of the firemen. “No! PAPA!” His anxiety eased slightly, but only just. He scrambled to his feet just as the beam crumbled completely, blocking the window from view.
“Shit!” Coughing, Jacob looked around for another exit. His mind thought back to Lily’s bedroom; he could probably climb down carefully one-handed if he was quick enough. His study also seemed to be the furthest from the rest of the flames.
However, he was on borrowed time.
Downstairs was fully demolished; there was no way out there. Upstairs was closing in on him fast, the heat beginning to singe the hair on his arms and sear his skin. He ran for his study, narrowly avoiding falling debris. As he slammed the door shut, he was relieved at the sight of the room being unscathed. For now. He looked over the papers; they were definitely worth taking.
He emptied his desk of the files and stuffed them in a satchel that hid under his desk. He worked tenderly with his burned hand, careful not to aggravate the wound more than he already had. He coughed some more as he slid the satchel over his head, tightening the strap so it would lay fast against his back. As the cold leather touched his skin, he hissed. The flames must have licked him on the way in. He turned to check how much time he had left.
The fire had crept inside the doorframe, taunting him in a turbulent tango.
Jacob hurried for the window, looking for the latch. His fingers felt around the edge, but he couldn’t feel anything. He tried pushing, with no luck. Does this window not even open?!
Frantic, his non-dominant and uninjured hand went for the first thing that he could always rely on.
Two wide shots rang out, cracking the glass in a spider-web mosaic. He moved to shatter the glazing, but the world began to spin. Knees wobbling, he fell against his desk, hitting the floor. Coughing hurt, breathing hurt, thinking hurt.
But he was so close.
He blinked away the world that spun around him, shakily getting to his feet. He threw the force of his whole arm into the window, the gun providing the force to break the shards completely. Clearing the way for his hands, Jacob holstered the gun and slowly began the climb onto the roof.
He wasn’t dying. Not today.
Wincing every other second, he pulled himself half-heartedly onto the tiles. Jacob took a second to try and stabilise his vision, securing extra fabric around his hand. He manWeuvered his way around the burning holes, hoping instead to find a way down that doesn’t involve jumping or falling.
Unfortunately for him, that choice was made for him.
A tile came loose under his foot. He slipped, the edge of the roof coming almost too soon for him to react. His fingers grasped the gutter, which did nothing but snap under his weight. Upon hitting the ground, Jacob managed to roll, but instead of ending on his feet, he slumped across the floor. Groaning, he lay still as he recollected himself. To anyone else, he looked dead.
A pained cry set his heart pumping again, yet he didn’t realise at first that the cry was because of him, not for him. Light footsteps rushed over to him. “Pa? Papa?” He felt fingertips dance across his cheek. “Please wake up!”
He reached for the source of the voice. “I’m okay. Are you alright?” He managed to open his eyes to check over Lily’s state. Her eyes were bloodshot, her skin was dirtied in soot, and one of her hands was bleeding. “Has anyone said they would help you with this?”
She shook her head, the worry not leaving her face. “I’m scared.”
“Don’t be; it’s over now.” He began the arduous process of standing up; from his stomach to his hands to his knees to his feet. Offering his hand to her, Jacob led the two of them out into the street. When everyone gathered in the street saw them, they cheered. Rooks quickly came to assist Jacob and pick up Lily, but he waved them away. He limped his way to the ambulance wagon waiting in front of them. Lily was hoisted onto the end while Jacob leaned heavily against the side. Lily faced him for reassurance.
“Mr Frye, sir!” He tilted his head as little as he could to get a view of who was calling his name. “Are you alright?”
“I’ll be fine; just a bit singed.” He tried to joke, but the pain in his face betrayed his laidback attitude. He grasped his ribs, as if it would ease the burn on the inside. “Where’s Evie?”
“As soon as we heard what happened, we sent for her. She should be here any minute now.”
“Lily goes with Evie. As soon as she shows up, take her to the train. She’ll be safe there.” Another hard cough shook his chest.
“With all due respect, are you sure you’re well?”
“I’m… I…” The floor was ripped from under him. Jacob’s knees buckled as his vision went black. After a few seconds, he came to. The Rooks had caught him on the way down. Disorientated, he blinked, trying to process what was going on around him.
He heard a familiar voice. “Where are they?” Rooks wrapped Jacob’s arms around their necks, pulling him to the edge of the wagon. He barely registered arms pulling him from behind to lie down. He noted how he was staring up at the stars.
“Evie!” A young, panicked yell drove Jacob to sit up, but hands pushed him back down against the wood.
“You don’t want to make things any worse, Mr Frye.”
His body jolted between consciousness and unconsciousness as Evie came into view. She also looked worried. “Jacob? I’ve got Lily; she’ll be safe. I’ll come to the hospital as soon as I can.” Lily was snuggled against Evie, a bandage wrapped around her hand.
“Let’s hope I don’t fall off.” It was weak and hoarse, but there was humour in his tone.
“You better not.”
“Take the bag.” He gestured to the leather satchel underneath him. Slowly, she undid the strap and pulled it out from under him, barely able to avoid causing a wince. She looked inside to find the papers in impressive condition. “It’s the paperwork Greenie asked for.”
Jacob’s smile was weak as the wagon began to drive away. The rocking of the cobblestones was rough, and although jarring, also brought comfort. He fell in company with the stars as his consciousness left him yet again.
----------
The next time he became lucid, he immediately noticed that he could breathe better; oxygen was easier to take in than before, and although not perfect, kept the lightheadedness away. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking to adjust to the light. The feeling of rough gauze was not unfamiliar to him, so he assessed the wounds on his back based on how rough it felt to lean on.
He brought his burned hand up to see that it had also been wrapped neatly. Although that was the majority of his wounds, his entire body ached. He leaned back into his pillow and closed his eyes, assessing the situation. Approaching footsteps made him roll his head to the side, and a doctor appeared with a clipboard. “How are you feeling, my boy?” He asked with a pencil in his mouth, flipping through the various pages.
“Like I’ve been run over by a carriage. Multiple times.”
“I’m not surprised; you inhaled half a factory.”
Jacob prepared himself for the question he knew he had to ask but would hate the answer to. “How long has it been?”
“Oh, a few days, give or take.”
“How many days are we giving or taking?”
Just then, a door opened on the far end of the ward, a few people rapidly approaching. As they turned the corner, Jacob’s heart sank a bit. You were hurrying towards him with the look of a mortified wife, but he dreaded what you thought would be more mortifying: your house burning down, putting your only daughter’s life in danger…
“Thank God!” You swerved around the bed and kissed him, one which conveyed a hundred different emotions, the most evident being relief. After the initial shock, Jacob’s fingers came to your jaw, lightly directing as he kissed you deeper.
He slowly pulled away, worried eyes scanning your face. “I’m so sorry, Y/N, I haven’t the foggiest what happened--”
“You’re both safe; that’s all that matters.”
“But the house…”
“I’ve been prepared for disasters like this for a while. Everything I couldn’t stand to lose went in a fireproof box. There’s nothing gone that I can’t replace.”
“Papa!” Your eyes widened as you exchanged an impressed look with Jacob. Lily had crawled onto the bed and nestled her way into Jacob’s arms.
“Are you alright?” Without speaking, she nodded, deciding to play with his hand, fidgeting with his fingers and tracing the lines. Jacob looked to Evie, who followed her in.
Shepulled a concerned face, coming up to her and putting her hands over Lily’s ears. “She’s been crying herself to sleep, sometimes waking up in the middle of the night calling for one of you, sometimes both. She’ll heal, I’m sure, but for now I think time needs to pass. I investigated what could have happened that night; it wasn’t you.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if they were Templars; pisses me off though.” He turned to you. “If you hadn’t visited your family…”
“Don’t ponder the ‘if’s, Jacob. It leads to all sorts of grief.” You threaded your hands through his hair.
Evie nodded. “All I know is what happened, not necessarily who did it.”
“Go on.”
“The house was rigged to burn down. Someone must’ve broken in, set down some oil or gas, and set it alight. It all happened very quickly -- it’s a miracle you got out when you did.”
At the explanation, Jacob ran a hand down his face. “The fun never stops.” He shifted to stand up.
“What are you doing?” You put your hand on his shoulder.
“I’m going to find whoever did this, and I have a feeling I know exactly where to start.”
“Not in this state you’re not.”
He stood up, much to your protests. “Honestly, Y/N, I’m…” His vision went black immediately, blood rushing to his head.
You quickly caught him. “‘Fine?” Sitting him down again, you brushed his hair out of his face. “Just take it easy.”
“I have errands to run.”
Evie whispered something to Lily, who gave the couple a mischievous grin. “We can do it!”
Jacob smiled, catching on. He leaned down to Lily’s ear. “Pick something Y/F/C,” he whispered. She nodded, grabbing Evie’s hand and running away.
The both of you laughed as Evie was dragged out of the ward. “What was that about?” You raised an eyebrow at the secrecy.
“It’s a surprise.”
Rolling your eyes, you joined him on the bed. “Don’t keep me waiting for too long.”
Jacob smiled to himself, the familiar excitement climbing. “I won’t.”
174 notes · View notes
shysneeze · 3 years
Text
i’m in love with you (george weasley x fem!reader)
Tumblr media
I’m in Love With You 
Post War George Weasley x Fem!Reader
Request:  Okay idk if you’d be up to it but I’m currently obsessed w the song Please Notice by Christian Leave and so I was thinking a George weasley x reader fic inspired by/based off of/same kinda vibe imagine. Do you understand that lol I feel like I said it in a confusing way, crossing my fingers that you’re pickin up what I’m putting down. Lol ily bye. ~ anon
Warning: angsty (but fluff I promise this time), self-doubt etc...
Authors note: this is a cliché, but it’s one you can pry from my cold dead hands
.
George has never been a huge fan of silence, it’s not something he’s ever been used to, growing up in a house full of the constant noise of familial ruckus, and so weekends without Fred such as this are something that’s always made him feel ever so slightly uneasy, listening only to the repetitive patter of rain on the windows and static whirring of a record he’s gotten too distracted to flip spinning idly in the corner.
The creak of his bedroom door opening is a welcome sound, followed by the gentle shuffle of light footsteps along the corridor before she appears before him, a much healthier and warmer version of herself, nothing like the teary-eyed (Y/N) (Y/L/N) he pulled from his doorstep and out of the rain only ten minutes previous.
“Hey.” She gives a sheepish wave.  
Years as best friends should prepare him for the sight of her in his clothes, borrowed jumpers and stolen socks such a pivotal part of their friendship back in Hogwarts that he shouldn’t be startled by how gorgeous she looks in them, but he always  is.
“Hey.” He manages a kind smile. “Any warmer?”
The subtle drop of her gaze to the floor warns him that she’s about to tell him a white-lie and his eyes cling to the way her hands still tremble with the cold. Then, just as he’s predicted, she gives him an unconvincing ‘yep’.
It wasn’t how he was expecting his evening to go, he’d already surrender himself to an evening spent on the couch listening to his favourite songs when there was a knock on his door. The time and weather instantly led him to the assumption of bad news, and for all the outlandish theories and anxious assumptions he concocted on his way to the door, none involved his rain-soaked best friend shivering on his door step.
A sputtered apology was all she managed before he pulled her into his flat in a protective panic, fetching her a towel instantly and setting out a change of clothes with no request of an explanation for her visit, promising himself only to ask once he’s sure she doesn’t have hypothermia.
He’s still not one hundred percent on that part, giving her a knowing look as he crosses the space between them to push a cup of warm tea between her frozen fingers. Her shoulders slump in relief at the heat finding her hands, giving him a sheepish, but grateful smile.
“Now I’m warmer.” She assures honestly. “Thank you, Georgie.”
“Figured that might help.” He smiles gently. “Livingroom?”
She nods, mimicking his steps subconsciously as he follows him to from the kitchen to the sofa in the living room, pulling her knees up to her chest and cradling the mug on top of them as he takes a seat on the opposite end of the worn sofa with his legs stretched out across the cushions
She twiddles with the handle of her mug atop her knees, deep in thought as the room falls into silence. Silence with her is the only type George has ever found comforting, the reminder of afternoons spent in the Gryffindor common room, listening only the sound her flipping pages of her book and the crackling of the fire.
“Fred’s out?”
“A ‘couples weekend away’.” George nods. “Him and Angelina are somewhere up north for the anniversary of the first time they ate ice cream together or something daft like that.”
She chuckles softly, her smile summoning one similar to George’s lips. There is always a certain amount of pride in cheering her up, he’s realised, in bringing a smile to cheeks moments ago stained by tears.
“I’m happy for them though.” She adds softly, a sombre sound to her voice that has him on edge. “They’re a cute couple.”
“Insufferable at times.” George says. “But yes, cute.”
She exhales a quiet sigh, dropping her head tiredly to the cushion beside.
“I got stood up… again.”
He drops his shoulder in a display of sympathy, pushing down the initial aggressive protectiveness that dares him to ask for the name and address of the person stupid enough to ever hurt her. It’s clear from the forlorn look in her eyes that she needs someone to listen to her, not to avenge her.
“I’m sorry, (Y/N).” He says. “Whoever they were, they were an idiot.”
“Thanks, Georgie.” She says softly. “I just really needed a friend tonight so thank you.”
He tries to ignore how the word stings, ‘friend’. It’s a sting he’s been trying to ignore for years, it should be second nature by now, but it still stirs that feeling he hates, the one that makes him feel ungrateful, because being her friend should be enough.
He hates that it never has been.
It was what he assumed was a harmless crush at first, back at Hogwarts, one he was sure he would grow out of, no matter how many times Fred tried to tell him otherwise. Much to his dismay, Fred was right, and every year it got harder and harder to ignore, even after school.
By now, the word ‘crush’ doesn’t seem to cut it, too childish to possibly explain the irresistible torture that is his love for (Y/N) (Y/L/N). He’s not sure there is a word to describe such a feeling, the way it fills his heart with warmth but aches at the same time, an ache he’d happily experience forever just to be near her.
Now he pushes that sting deep down where he can barely notice it in order to deal with the issue at hand, the girl sat across from him with sad eyes and fallen smile.
“You can rant to me.” He assures. “I don’t mind.”
She takes a moment to give in to his offer encouraged by the sincerity in his warm brown eyes from across the sofa and the nudge to her feet from his. Biting her lip nervously and with a deep breath, she begins to explain.
“I’m not saying he was the love of my life or anything.” She disclaims. “It was only our second date, but it still hurt when he just... didn’t show up.”
“I can imagine.”
“I was just sat in that restaurant staring at the door waiting for this guy I knew deep down wasn’t going to show.” She explains. “He could have just called; told me he wasn’t interested, and it would have been less embarrassing.”
“Guys are idiots, Love.” George says. “Take it from a professional.”
She rolls her eyes lightly at the comment, ready to scold his self-deprecation when she seems to lose the momentum as quickly as she found it, instead sinking further back against the arm of the sofa with a huffed out breath.
“Is there something about me that people think doesn’t deserve an explanation?” Her voice wobbles. “Aren’t I worth that much?”
His heart breaks into what he’s sure are thousands of little pieces, his breath catching in his throat at the tears that spring to her eyes. He pulls his legs back and shuffles towards her end of the sofa as she hides her face behind her knees.
Gentle tugging the tea from her fingers, he places it on the coffee table before pushing her knees down, guiding her legs across his lap, squeezing her knee to urge her to look up and meet his eyes. She sniffles softly as she lifts her head, gulping at the softness in his warm brown eyes.
“You are worth so much more.” He explains. “I’m so sorry they made you feel like you weren’t.”
“I guess I just feel… unlovable.” She confesses.
Frustration forces itself out of his lungs in a long sigh, startling her slightly. It almost hurts to listen to her talk about herself, ‘unlovable’, as if he isn’t sat in front of her, undoubtedly in love with her. It’s not the first time he’s wished she would notice, where life would be so much easier if she could just look at him and see instantly how in love with her he is.
If only she could see how he blushes when he makes her laugh, how even in crowded rooms, he has only eyes for her and how, sometimes, despite his best efforts, he can’t help but fumble over his words when she talks to him.
“You’re not.” He shakes his head slowly. “Trust me.”
It’s a miniscule confession, one he doubts she’s going to pick up on until he can see something flicker across her eyes, realisation perhaps. It fades as quickly as it appeared, as though in only a millisecond she considered and dismissed the notion.
However, George has taken the first steps down a dangerous path, there is no going back no matter how fast the beating of his nervous heart.
“You’re the amazing, (Y/N).” He continues. “I hate that other people can’t see that, but I do.”
“George-“
“I’m in love with you, (Y/N).”
“George please…” She exhales shakily, desperately. “Please don’t tell me this if you don’t mean it, if you’re just trying to cheer me up- please, George.”
“I do mean it, (Y/N).” He assures frantically. “Merlin, (Y/N), I love everything about you, the way you sing under your breath when you think no one’s listening, how you mimic the facial expressions of the characters in books without even noticing you’re doing it, how you get the hiccups when you laugh too much- blood hell, (Y/N), you’re laugh is the most gorgeous sound in the world.”
He’s in love with every single one of her quirks and habits; the lucky penny she’s taken to every single one of his quidditch matches, the pressed flowers she uses as bookmarks, and her pockets that are always full of plasters and healing cream… He could get carried away with listing them all, he has to restrain himself from doing so, bringing himself back with a sigh.
“I’m in love with you, (Y/N).” He repeats in confirmation. “And I can’t stand to hear you doubt yourself over and over because of some idiots who don’t know how lucky they are to even be considered by you.”
The tears that trickle down her cheeks fill him instantly with panic, sure he’s ruined it all as she wipes frantically at her eyes. The room fills with silence again, though George can only hear the thumping of his own heart in his ears, drowning out the rain and the record still spinning pointlessly in the corner of the room.
He’s done exactly what he was afraid of; he’s let his feeling pull apart the friendship that should have been enough for him. This hurts more than the ache of loving her ever has, the wretched torture of rejection.
“I shouldn’t-“ He mumbles. “I shouldn’t have done that-“
“Do you know how often I have imagined you saying those words to me?”
Her voice is cracked, much how it was when he first opened the door to her this evening, with disbelieving edge to her voice. The pain in his chest untwists itself slowly, replaying the words over and over in his head, until he’s sure he’s imagined it.
“What?”
“I love you, George.” She confesses. “Every disastrous date I’ve ever been on has been in an attempt to pretend I don’t. but I do, I really do.”
“You love me?”
The words feel foreign in his mind, he’s never allowed himself to imagine it before, that she could ever possibly love him back. Yet here she is, sat on his couch and wearing his clothes, tell him that she does.
“Yes, George.” She gasps incredulously. “I do, and only in my daydreams have you ever loved me back.”
Warmth fills him slowly, then rushes in all at once as the words finally sink in and he’s able to convince himself he isn’t stuck in some daydream of his own. His grin spreads slowly up his cheeks, contagious as it is soon mimicked on her own teary cheeks.
“You love me.”
“Yes.” She lets out a breathy laugh.
“Bloody hell.”
Her head tips back in a hysterical burst of laughter.
“You can’t just say ‘Bloody hell’ after I’ve confessed my undying love!”
“You cried when I confessed mine!” He retorts, chest vibrating with a laugh of his own. “This is surreal.”
Laughter fading to a grin, she looks at him with a new found light, a twinkle he’s very quickly added to the never ending list of thing he loves about her.
“I can’t believe you love me.” She says softly.
He does something he’s only ever dreamt of before, reaching out with one hand and cupping her cheek, grazing his thumb gently over the map of stains from what he knows now, were happy tears. He can feel her skin warm beneath his touch and tries his best not to smirk, not wanting to ruin the moment.
“This can’t be real.” He whispers.
“I know.” She smiles softly in agreement. “It’s all too perfect.”
“Is it immoral for me to kiss you after you’ve just been stood up?”
She snorts quietly at the question, shaking her head in reassurance and curling her finger around a handful of his jumper, pulling him closer.
“I think I was meant to be stood up.” She admits. “As cliché as it might sound, it led me here.”
“You’re right.” He mumbles, lips inches from hers. “That is very soppy.”
“Oh, shut up and kiss me.”
He’s tugged into her lips in less than a second. It’s better than he’s ever allowed himself to imagine during those lonely evenings spent staring at his ceiling, it’s everything to him. She moves her lips with his eagerly, as if she would be happy to the spend the rest of her life with him in this moment.
She’s perfect, it’s a fact he’s known since they were seventeen, but never has it been more true than this moment, tangled together in a kiss they’ve both been longing for in secret for far too long. All this time he’s not been the only one with what felt like an unattainable crush, no the only one suffering the ache of a heart in love.
“You’re amazing.” He exhales against her lips, eliciting one of those gorgeous laughs. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Georgie.”
“I’d listen to you say that all day.”
“Who’s the soppy one now?”
“Hm, just don’t tell Fred.”
 .
authors note; v v rushed, if i didnt put it out though, I would spend all week on it and I have a mountain of uni work to do so meh, also drinking game: drink every time unless ur underage pls they confess their love... can you tell i’m super impressed by myself this time?
515 notes · View notes
Text
Snow
AO3 link here
Summary: Apollo recalls his first experience with snow in the Khura'inese mountains with Dhurke and Nahyuta.
--
The Kingdom of Khura'in...or, to be more specific, the faraway mountains. A relatively safe haven for the Defiant Dragons as they planned their coup d'état against the tyrannical Queen Ga'ran Sigatar Khura'in and her equally tyrannical Defense Culpability Act.
The Defiant Dragons had multiple bases set up in the kingdom, from dilapidated buildings to even the complex sewer system underground. They even had spies within the ranks of the royal guards, stealthily observing the queen and her family's every actions - observations that they would then report back to their superiors.
Yet, time and again, the mountains proved themselves to be the primary base of operations for the Dragons. Standing at the pinnacle of the world, the mountains provided a great barrier of nature, one that proved to be impenetrable. No matter how many of the royal guards were sent out, the Dragons could conceal themselves within the dense forests and the vast fields. Even the deepest of lakes and the fastest of rivers could hide them from prying eyes.
But the mountains were also a dangerous place to live in. While the royal guards were a main concern, there was also the matter of other dangerous creatures roaming in the wild. One could easily find themselves face-to-face with a predatory animal like a tiger or a wolf, or a misstep could send someone falling off a cliff to their untimely demise. And, of course, there was always the matter of finding enough food to last an entire group...or a small family.
Dhurke always kept this in mind. Even after all the years he'd spent hiding in the mountains, living in that little shack, he knew there was danger to be had. Not just for himself, but also for his two boys, Nahyuta and Apollo.
Especially Apollo.
From the moment Dhurke took him under his wing, the young child had grown into quite the little spitfire, always full of energy and vigor, and always eager for adventure. Take away that piss and vinegar, and you get just that: a child, all alone, with his father dead and his mother missing. It broke Dhurke's heart every time he recalled the incident: the fire burning away at the palace, Apollo as an infant crying for help as his father lay dead...
He was so lost in thought that he didn't hear the fast pitter-patter of bare feet against the wooden floorboards, nor the sound of a door being swung open. The rush of cold air and a startled squeak, on the other hand, were enough to snap him out of his thoughts.
Dhurke turned around to find Apollo running towards him. His tiny hands were wrapped around something white and mushy, and his cheeks were bright red. He was also shivering from the coldness to the point where Dhurke could see his pointed canine teeth like little fangs (dragon fangs, according to Datz).
"D-D-Dhurke," Apollo spoke up between shivers. "What's this? It's s-so white, and wet and...and...and c-cold!"
Dhurke blinked in surprise. Then, he smiled. And let out a hearty chuckle. He knelt down to affectionately give his foster son a pat on the head, just behind his tiny horns. His other hand came up to poke the white stuff that was slowly but inexorably beginning to melt in Apollo's smaller hands.
"My boy," he said. "All this time in the mountains, and you have no idea about the natural world outside?"
Though, given the circumstances, he figured that being forced to hide from Ga'ran's royal guards was the main factor. But he didn't dare tell Apollo that. Instead, he took a clump of the white and wet...thing...and cupped it in his hands for Apollo to see.
"This is called snow," he explained. "The mountains are topped with it. And, at a certain time of year, it is what covers the land and makes it cold and white."
"S...suh-now..." Apollo slowly repeated.
Dhurke nodded. Apollo took a deep breath and said it again, with more confidence this time. "Snow!" He tossed the last bits of snow into the air, and watched as it scattered on the floor in small droplets.
Apollo frowned. "But if the snow covers the ground, then what happens to the grass, and the plants, and..."
Dhurke chuckled as he stood up. "Well, why don't we find out for ourselves together?" he asked. He went over to the closet and pulled out a large blue coat for himself as well as a smaller red coat for Apollo. He also took out a pair of mittens and boots to keep their hands and feet warm as well as some scarves.
Once Apollo was fully dressed, he followed Dhurke outside the shack and into the fields. More snow covered the ground, blanketing the world in white. Dhurke watched as Apollo gasped in awe at the new surroundings, his eyes sparkling with delight. He then looked down at the snow and ducked down on all fours to dig through it, as if he were searching for his hidden cache of a freshly-killed rabbit or squirrel.
Dhurke knelt down to Apollo's height as he put a hand on his shoulder. "You wish to know more about what happens to the grass and plants when the snow falls, don't you, son?" he asked.
"Uh-huh!" Apollo nodded with enthusiasm.
Dhurke sat down in the snow and pulled Apollo onto his lap. "Well, at this time of year, the plants and grass need to rest and recharge, like the rest of us. When the cold seasons start to settle in, they..." He paused, unsure where to go from there. "...They retreat back into the ground. The earth gives the plants the energy that normally would not be found just by obtaining sunlight and water alone, and the plants, in turn, give themselves to the earth to be reborn again."
He turned to the riverside. "And it's not just the grass that needs to rest, too. Ice forms over the water, and the fish within have to sleep for a very long time. It's the same with some animals, too. Some of them store up enough energy to sleep through and survive the long, cold nights and short days. And others retreat to warmer places."
He glanced up at the sky, noticing that it was starting to snow. "Apollo, listen carefully. Winter is a time when you should reflect upon your past and plan ahead for your future. It is a time to rest your body and mind so that you will be ready come the next spring. But most importantly, it is also a time to remember the fallen ones and to honor their spirits so that they will be reborn anew. And the snow is a symbol of it all - of death, of rest, and of rebirth. That is what makes the life cycle so incredible."
Apollo nodded. "OK," he said. "But what can we do with the snow?"
"How about this?" an older, yet still boyish voice sounded from behind them. As if on cue, Dhurke felt something cold and wet hit his back, startling Apollo. The two of them turned to find Nayhuta dressed in his white coat. He held a snowball in one hand as he grinned, his jade eyes standing out amongst all that white.
Dhurke stared at Nahyuta in bewilderment. Then, he chuckled. "Where'd you come from, my boy?" he asked.
Nahyuta smirked as he clutched his snowball with both hands. "Oh, you know, Father," he said rather innocently. "Just thought I'd surprise you both."
"Well, you certainly managed to accomplish that." Dhurke slowly got up just as Apollo hopped off his lap. "And now, you're going to get it! Raaah!"
Without warning, he scooped up a large clump of snow in his arms and threw it at both his boys. Nayhuta laughed as he dodged the wave of snow. Apollo, however, wasn't so lucky, as he tripped over and fell face-first in the snowbank.
Nahyuta gasped in shock and dropped his snowball as he rushed to his brother's aid. "Apollo! Apollo, are you alright?"
Luckily, Apollo wasn't injured at all. He simply sat up to wipe the snow off his hair and face and glared up at Nayhuta. "Yuty, we gotta get back at him!" he declared.
Nahyuta blinked. Then, he smiled and nodded. "Yeah, you're right," he said. "For the Defiant Dragons!"
The two boys quickly gathered up as many snowballs as they could before launching them at Dhurke. Their father laughed as tiny white orbs pelted his coat before retaliating with some of his own snowballs.
Even as Dhurke continued his snowball fight with Apollo and Nahyuta, he couldn't help but feel a dreaded thought nag the back of his mind. Though the snow held its own beauty, it also came with a danger of its own. Prey animals would become scarce, while predators could take desperate measures by invading the shack in search of any fresh meat they could find. And, of course, there was always the possibility of Ga'ran's followers coming into the mountains in search of them.
He knew that someday, one of his two sons would have to leave Khura'in for his safety. And he knew that day was fast approaching.
But for now, as he lay in the snow with his sons at his sides, Dhurke was happy to live out a snow day free of worry...a day where he and his family would be safe.
At least, for now.
* * *
"What are you thinking about, Polly?"
Apollo yelped as Trucy's voice startled him out of his daydream, so much so that it nearly caused him to fall out of his chair. After taking a moment to regain his composure, he then took a quick look at his surroundings.
Gone were Dhurke and Nahyuta along with the little shack in the mountains, replaced with the warm and messy (yet familiar all the same) office of Wright Anything Agency. Trucy was leaning over his desk in front of him, staring at him with concerned sapphire eyes.
Apollo sighed with exasperation as he rubbed his finger against his forehead. "Trucy, how many times do I have to tell you not to wake me up like that?" he complained. "It scares me every time."
Trucy withdrew from her perch atop Apollo's desk. "Sorry, Polly," she said. "But you looked pretty zoned out. What were you thinking about?"
Oh...that.
Apollo sighed as he relaxed in his chair. "Just...thinking about the times I used to play in the snow as a kid, I guess," he answered solemnly. "Snowball fights, snow angels...even sledding..."
Trucy tapped a finger to her chin, like she usually did when she was thinking hard. "You really miss all the fun times, don't you?" she asked. "It's not like you to feel down in the dumps, you know. You're usually a lot more serious than that, Polly."
And by serious, you mean grumpy, thought Apollo as he pouted a little.
Trucy glanced out at the window...and let out a gasp. "Polly! Polly, look!" she squealed excitedly. "It's snowing outside!"
Apollo blinked with surprise. "Wait, seriously?" he asked.
"Seriously, Polly! You gotta take a look at this!" Trucy pressed her gloved hands against the glass window, grinning with excitement. Apollo got up from his desk to look out the window. Almost right away, his eyes widened with amazement at what he saw.
Outside the office, he saw multiple snowflakes gently falling from the sky, blanketing the city skyscrapers in a soft and fluffy white. Down below, he noticed that some of the streets and sidewalks were empty, as if the people down below had chosen to leave room for nature to take over.
Almost unconsciously, Apollo found himself recalling Dhurke's words: "Winter is a time when you should reflect upon your past and plan ahead for your future. It is a time to rest your body and mind so that you will be ready come the next spring. But most importantly, it is also a time to remember the fallen ones and to honor their spirits so that they will be reborn anew."
He couldn't help but curl his lips into a small smile, remembering his first snow day in the mountains, in a world where he lived alone with his family. He wondered if they were doing the same, looking out into the window of their hideout, remembering that very day...remembering him.
"Hey, Polly!"
Apollo looked down at Trucy, her grin having morphed into a broad, toothy smile. "You wanna go and see if Mr. Gavin and Ms. Skye have taken the day off? I'm sure they won't resist a good snowball fight...or two. It'll be a good way for you to unwind as well."
Apollo thought this over for a moment. Then, he smiled. "Heh, why not?" he replied, his mind picturing a moment where he could finally knock that stupid, smug look off of that glimmerous fop's face.
"Perfect!" Trucy bounced over to grab her coat. "Then let's go make some calls and tell them to meet us over at People Park!"
"I'll be right there," Apollo said. "Just...need a moment." Once he was sure Trucy was gone, he leaned against the windowsill and looked outside once more. He let out a deep sigh as the memories came back to him. For the first time in his life, he realized just how alone he was, in America, without his family by his side.
Yet, at the same time, he couldn't help but think about the new friends and the new family he'd gained here. A group of close confidants who would always have his back no matter what.
He smiled. No matter what happened next, he would be fine.
21 notes · View notes
ihavejarlsberg · 4 years
Text
Blue Christmas
Author’s Note: I had a really sad idea for a short fic, so I wrote it so you all could be sad with me.  You can pry the headcanon that one of Malcolm’s top love languages is giving gifts from my cold, dead hands. Have some Christmas angst, everyone! (Read more is added for those on mobile… head to AO3 if it’s cut off for you. :D )
Word Count: 2,300-ish.
Summary: Three days after Malcolm has been taken, the team discovers he had bought them all Christmas presents. It doesn’t help them miss him any less. Link: AO3.
They each found them on their desks, tucked in with the rest of their respective pieces of mail. It was obvious Malcolm hadn’t wrapped them, himself; he had clearly paid someone to do a better (and much more festive) job than he ever would have. But that didn’t matter. Not really.
Edrisa found hers first. It was, naturally, an incredibly thoughtful gift, based on a little seed of information about her she had thrown out once that Bright had picked up and tucked away into his pocket for later like a small boy collecting shiny stones.
It was a puzzle. A 1000-piece beauty that was clearly hand drawn by an artist. The pictures on it looked like they were taken straight from an anatomy book, then set ablaze with tremendous color by a talented artist. She loved it with her whole heart, and she burst into tears as soon as she got through the wrapping paper and saw what it was.
Who knows how long it would have taken the rest of the team to find theirs, had Edrisa not mentioned it. As soon as she did, they immediately went to their respective desks to check their own mail. It had been three days since Bright’s disappearance on December 25th; whatever postage they had been missing out on in that time frame was literally the last thing on their minds. Until now.
JT’s was the smallest, as far as size went; a maroon envelope sealed shut with gold-colored wax. It stood out like a sore thumb in his mail box amidst the standard white envelopes that had been accumulating. “Damn,” he’d said to himself, running the pad of his thumb over the dried wax of the seal, “Even this dude’s envelopes are rich.” He had quieted, though, once he’d opened up the card and started reading what Malcolm had written inside with his neat, all-capitalized handwriting.
 JT, Sorry for crashing your date. The next one’s on me.
 Merry Christmas!
 MB
 P.S. Justin? Jerico? Jeremiah?
JT had to laugh, despite everything. Attached to the card was a $100 gift card to Amsterdam Billiards. He stared at it, unblinking, for several seconds before his eyes started to water from being open too long (mostly).
“Damn it, Bright,” he muttered to himself as he closed the card. “Where you at, bro?”
x
There was a small black postage box waiting for Gil on his desk, hiding under a manila envelope. It was not the sort of small black box one would buy a woman; Gil knew was it was the moment he pulled it out from his mail pile and saw the company name stamped on the side in raised silver lettering. He stared at it for a moment, until it blurred together in his vision beneath a sheen of tears.
His fingers traced over the letters on the front of the box, and for a moment he allowed himself to just feel how smooth the cardboard was on the delivery box the gift had come in. He had to clench his jaw against the lump steadily climbing up his throat. Before he even made a move to open the box, he pulled back his right cuff, exposing the watch he wore on his wrist. Despite how worn and well loved it was, the watch was in excellent condition for being nearly fifteen years old. Especially considering that Gil literally wore it every day, to the point that he felt naked without it. It had held up marvelously over the years, which wasn’t surprising, as it had likely been expensive. Just as expensive as the new one he was holding in his other hand.
Without warning, the memory came back, unbidden. He could recall it like it had taken place last week. Malcolm, no older than twelve, handing him a dark blue velvet box with a hand that shook so fiercely, Gil immediately moved to take it from the poor kid before he dropped it.
It hadn’t been Father’s Day, then. The Whitlys didn’t celebrate Father’s Day anymore. But it had been damn close to it, and Malcolm had thought to buy a gift for Gil. As a man with no biological children of his own, Gil had cherished this more than he ever could have put into words. He still wore the same watch to this day.
And Malcolm noticed. Obviously. Because Malcolm Bright noticed everything.
“You still have that watch I gave you,” he had said, exactly 1.5 days into the investigation of the “copycat” Surgeon case, as he stared at Gil’s wrist.
“Of course I do,” Gil retorted. He was standing close enough to Bright at the time to reach out and give his shoulder a slight squeeze. “I wear it every day.”
Malcolm had all but beamed at that. “Looks a little worn, though,” he added, as his gaze drifted back down to the silver time piece on Gil’s wrist.
Gil had shrugged. “It’s well-loved,” he said simply. Malcolm had frowned just slightly at that, clearly deep in thought.
And now he knew what Bright had been thinking about: a wardrobe update for Gil Arroyo.
Gil sucked in a breath, holding the air in his chest for a few seconds to help expel some of the fear that had taken up residence there. He wasn’t afraid a new watch, obviously; unfortunately, he knew exactly what he was afraid of, and it was too terrible for words.
He was afraid he was holding the last piece of Malcolm Bright he was ever going to see.
(They all were afraid of that, deep down.)
The atrocity of that thought propelled him into action, and he started ripping open the little box’s packaging tape. Inside was a hard, velvet case, just like the one a much younger Malcolm had first presented to Gil all those years ago. The watch inside was magnificent. It was all black, even its face, and incredibly sleek. Clearly this time, Malcolm was going for an updated, modern look for him. Gil loved it. There was a small, folded card inside, and Gil pried it open with hands that had gone numb. He recognized Malcolm’s handwriting instantly. It was simple, sweet, and to the point.
 Merry Christmas, Gil!    Thank you–for everything.
 Love,
 Bright
Seeing the words in Malcolm’s handwriting was what finally put him over the edge. It had been three long days of fruitless searching for their profiler; they were all exhausted, and none more so than Gil. He reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose, not even bothering to keep the tears at bay anymore.
“Thanks, bud,” he whispered to an empty room when he could finally find his voice again. “I love it.”
x
By the time Dani found out Bright had all gotten them Christmas gifts and had them sent to the station, she was exhausted. Just at the end of her rope mentally, physically, and emotionally. When Edrisa came up to her in tears, shaking a box in her face, Dani nearly lost it on her. Until he heard what she was saying.
“He got us gifts,” Edrisa squeaked out.
Dani felt the blood rush out of her face. She had a good idea who the ‘he’ in question was, but still had to ask, “Who…?”
“Bright!” Edrisa said. “Bright got us all Christmas presents. Incredibly thoughtful, probably expensive presents.” Her lower lip wobbled, and she looked like she was going to start crying again. “I didn’t get him anything. I thought about it! But then we just got so busy with the case load and… and…” She trailed off.
“And then Bright went missing on Christmas,” Dani finished for her, deadpanning. Edrisa nodded, sniffing once. Dani looked down at the box in Edrisa’s hands, studying it. “He got you a puzzle?”
Edrisa nodded vigorously again and offered up the box to Dani, who took it gingerly, like it was something to be cherished.
“It’s gorgeous,” Dani said genuinely.
“I know,” Edrisa agreed, “I’m scared to even open it. Like I’m going to ruin it somehow just by touching it. But I thought I could get started on it tonight… Maybe have it done by the time you find him, you know?”
Dani’s heart surged at the words by the time you find him, and she ground her teeth together at the familiar tightness in her jaw that meant she was definitely close to crying. Edrisa didn’t seem to notice; she was staring at her puzzle box. Dani placed it back in her arms gently, and Edrisa hugged it to her chest. The pieces inside all fell to the bottom of the box with a soft swish.
“We’ll find him,” Dani said simply. We have to.
Edrisa gave her a watery smile and nodded. “Hopefully before I even have the chance to finish this beast.”
Dani returned her smile. “So,” she started, eager to turn the subject away from the fact that Bright was still missing. “You said he mailed it?”
“Oh, right. Yes,” Edrisa said, “Apparently he mailed them all to the station. Which is kind of silly, but he must have just paid to have everything wrapped, and then he probably didn’t know our addresses, so… They were just here, waiting for us. Since Christmas.”
Dani swallowed. Part of her almost wished Bright had forgotten about hers, that he had sent something to everyone else but her. But the thought was a wasted one; Bright would never forget about her.
Dani’s gift was a fairly large box, about the size of two shoeboxes lined up side by side. There was no way she could have avoided seeing it, once she got back to her desk. (Had it really been that long since she’d been back at her desk, away from the search for him?)
She stared at it for a few moments, willing herself to keep calm, before she took out her pocket knife to cut through the box’s tape. Dani didn’t really do Christmas presents; with her immediate family, sure, but she couldn’t remember the last time she had either given or received a gift from a friend. Even the team–Gil, JT, and Edrisa–usually only went out for a drink, rotating who would pay the tab, for holidays or birthdays. Gifts were not her forte. This was foreign territory, and it left her on edge.
She could almost feel Bright watching her, those brilliant eyes of his staring at her hopefully, like he so wanted her to love whatever it was he had picked out for her.
Inside the package, after she removed a fair amount of bubble wrap and colored tissue paper, was a large wooden box. The moment she read the scripted letters burned into the top of the it, she knew exactly what she’d find inside, and she huffed out a shaky breath. As soon as she opened it, she knew she was right; the smell wafted up from the contents of the box, despite the fact that they were vacuum sealed, and it hit her like a punch in the gut.
 I love Earl Grey.
She could hear his soft laugh, his words back to her. “I know. It’s the aroma, isn’t it?”
She was staring down at a beautiful box of British-imported loose leaf Earl Grey tea. Included was a small metal tea strainer, and little wrapped bags of spices and citrus peels, all individually wrapped and sectioned off into their own little spots in the box lined with velvet. In the center was a burgundy tin, and Dani smiled as soon as she read what it housed.
For someone whose tea-drinking habits involved microwaving water and using whatever brand of bagged tea was cheapest, the custom-built box before her was intimidating.  And somehow, Bright knew it would be. (Because of course he did.) Inside the tin in the middle were fifty already-assembled tea bags of Earl Grey from the same gourmet ingredients, ready to be slipped into hot water without hassle and enjoyed immediately.
 With friends.
It was one of the very best gifts she had ever been given in her life. And she felt a renewed hatred for Paul Lazar that Malcolm wasn’t there to share it with her. She reached down and pulled the tin out from the box. It popped open easily, and she was overtaken by that delightful smell again. She breathed it in for a few moments, until her nose grew used to it and the smell wasn’t nearly as potent to her.
Eventually, she removed the entire wooden box from its packaging, and that’s when she found the card. It was a simple folded card, red on the outside, blank on the inside, save for Malcolm’s writing. It was simple enough–just wishing her a merry Christmas and a happy new year, but the way he had signed it made the breath halt in her chest.
 Your friend,
 Malcolm Bright
“God, Bright,” she murmured, grinding her teeth again as she willed herself not to cry. But it was a fight she soon gave in to. What was the use? They had been searching for him for days, pouring everything they had into finding some kind of lead on where he had been taken, all to have nothing turn up. And then he’d gone and gotten her a damn thoughtful gift for a holiday he had been kidnapped on. It was all too much.
So Dani let herself cry for a few minutes. When it was over, she felt better and worse at the same time. She closed the lid of the wooden tea box and tucked it into the biggest drawer of her desk. The little card from Bright she taped, open, on the side of her computer monitor; she would see it each and every time she sat down at her desk.
And she vowed she wasn’t going to be drinking any tea at all until she found him, until he could sit and have a cup with her, himself.
99 notes · View notes
kileyrose-2003 · 4 years
Text
Rose the Hat x Teen! Daughter Reader
Tumblr media
A/N: @merci-bitch Hi love! This is Jen's request. I hope she/you enjoy it. I'm sorry it took so long to write but I wrote way more than I thought I was going to end up with and I preferred everyone had quality over just another fic to look at. This gets really angsty and sad at times, way more than I planned so hope that's okay.
I highly recommend reading this one in one sitting because if you read part 2 in broken pieces, it might get a little confusing with how trippy it is at one point. Ik you're probably like, trippy? Wtf? This is a hurt/comfort fic with a little angst. It'll make sense one you read it. Trust me. It goes with the backstory/plot. Anyways, I hope all is well with everyone and love you guys :) I have 2 other imagines I'm still working on that should be up soon hopefully.
Warnings: Mentions of miscarriage, child death, violence, violence against children
Pt. 1
Rose the Hat could say she was a lot of things in the 700 years she had been alive but for most of that time, a mother was not one of them.
She tried to be. She really did. The first time she felt a life blooming inside her was nearly two years before she was turned way back in the early 14th century when she was still known by her rube name Rose O'Hara.
Her life was a mystery to everyone including herself. Though her relationship with her mother was short lived, Rose could distinctly remember the woman got around.
Rose got around as well. She didn't know who the child's father was when she found out she was pregnant but nevertheless, she loved the baby. She savoured each kick to felt to her hand she felt as she slept in her cold and torrid room above the local pub. The place permeated with alcohol and foreign tobacco but Rose didn't mind. She had a feeling she wasn't exactly going to be there much longer anyway. Something good was going to come her way in the future and she hoped her baby was going to be a part of it but that wasn't meant to be.
It was a pleasant pregnancy but the labor did not go smooth. There was blood. Too much to mean any good.
She felt the loss of life before she was even told by one of the women she shared her room with that "the lord works in mysterious ways." It would of been a girl, probably special like her too but that chance she had at normality or a chance to feel not as lonely was gone. Rose wasn't the same after that. She became more bitter, more cynical until Grampa Flick found her that day fateful in the streets of some market place that had long since changed names and purpose.
Rose fit in well with The True Knot and it didn't take her long to rise through the rank. She felt a sense of normality and complete for the first time in a while. All the previous pain she felt had been buried and she felt like she could breathe again.
Then she met Crow. Someone who she loved all the more for how special he was. When he first brought up the idea of children to her she was hesitant. The whole knot had been hesitant.
It was possible Grampa Flick had told them, but not likely they'd be able to have a child. They both tried for over 100 years. The two came close on one occasion to almost having the child make it but as expected, they failed.
It was a never ending cycle of joy turned to pain every time they tried again from the first kick to the question Rose seemed to always have on what would of been.
Crow was near at his wits end from the repeated pains of mourning when in the very early 2000s, the pregnancy test Rose always seemed to have in her trailer read pink.
It was not a surprise, as they had no problem making children, it was just the delivery that was the hard part. For the time in a while, Rose felt a strand of hope. Something about this time felt right to her. This one was powerful and horribly strong though Crow refused to get his hopes up.
"If it doesn't work this time," Crow started carefully as he laid next to her in bed one night holding them close to his body. "This is our last time trying."
Rose felt a strain of bitterness inside her. "The fuck did you just say?" She reiterated. "This is the last time, Rosie." She made a face and narrowed her eyes. "Did I say this is our last time trying?"
"For fuck sakes Rosie, we can't keep doing this to ourselves. This pain of trying and trying and no matter what getting the same end result. I'm telling you, don't get too hopeful yet. You know how it ends every single time. Why do you keep-"
"The question should be why do you keep doing it? I would of been perfectly fine to not have another. You're the one who said you wanted to have-"
"And you were the one who agreed and jumped on board right away." Rose rolled her eyes and elbowed him. "Oww!"
"You're acting like a child! Like you said before, don't get your hopes up. I'm telling you. Something great is coming this time. I can feel it." Crow sighed and shook. "If you say so, Rosie.." He was still skeptical though for the remaining months, cherishing every kick and little burst of energy he felt radiating off of Rose until she proved herself right.
The labor had been slow and painful this time but unlike all the other times, she didn't feel herself trying to pry back at the energy fading from her so fastly. The energy remained strong and she could feel her power booming. She had high hopes this one was going to be the one.
The grounds around the campsite they were staying at shook as she dealt with the hard task of delivering this time around. Once it ended there was dead silence for a moment and earth went back to its natural state.
In the midst of her pain, the sound of a cry in the distance rung in her ear and tears started flowing down her cheeks. "Would it of been a daughter or a son?" She rasped, staring up at the ceiling and still out of it. Then the more she listened she realized it wasn't Crow crying this time. It sounded faint, like a baby.
She turned her gaze to the foot of her bed and bit down on her lip as she seen Crow softly weeping as he cradled a pink bundle close to his chest. "Our blessed angel..it's a girl. Ten fingers, ten toes, and a good set of lungs."
Rose let out a sob. Nearly 150 years of taking blows back to back and they finally had the living child they always wanted. She held her arms out. "Let me see her." Crow handed you over to Rose being so gentle it was as if he was afraid he would break you.
Rose moved you close to her chest, making sure you got skin to skin contact with her. "Well, hi there angel. I'm your mommy." You let out a cry and Rose began to nurse you. "Shhh..it's okay my darling. Mommy and daddy's got you."
Your fussing began to subside and you curled your little body up into Rose's chest. Crow smiled with tears in his eyes and slipped next to Rose in her bed, running his one finger up and down your back.
You were so precious to them. "What are we naming her?" Rose thought about it for a moment and kissed the top of your head. "What about, Y/n?"
"Y/n..I like it. It suits her." Rose grinned and caressed your cheeks. "Welcome to the family, my Y/n.."
It took a while for The True Knot to get used to having a child around but once they did, they enjoyed you and you loved them in return.
It didn't take long for any of them to realize you were special like them. When you were happy, radios and tvs would turn on by themselves. Playing whatever song you liked that day and when you were upset about, rare but it did happen, sometimes light bulbs would blow out if your cries worsened and as you grew older it got stronger.
By the time you were 4, you were already having premonitions of things to come in the future and The Knot used it to their advantage. It was something the whole family thought Rose would be jealous of but she loved you all the the more for it.
She made sure you never wanted for anything growing up. Want that sundress with the ombre pattern? Done. You wanted a hug? She'd give you more than you even asked for throughout the course of the day. "Mama will fix it," Was a recurring phrase she often repeated to you and you believed it. You liked being around your mom she made you feel safe. Rose was safe.
Rose didn't like sharing you with the rest of your family, including your father, for that reason. It wasn't that she was trying to hide you from them. It was just that your bond was so strong and Rose was afraid of them weakening it. It caused more arguments with Crow than you could count on your fingers and eventually Rose caved in on letting him see you but she didn't care.
While you and your dad were pretty close wherever Rose went, she always made sure you were with her. Not that you minded anyways. The two of you were inseparable, especially when you hit the beginnings of your teen years.
Your family made it a point to make sure that you never seen or interacted with any of the kids they killed but you knew what they were doing anyways. The smell of iron and bloodshed lingered on them everytime they got close to you and the stench was too strong to mean any good.
You knew they'd never hurt you though but it didn't mean you approved. The night before they captured their food you noticed how your mom would hold your hand a little longer than normal when you'd sit next to each other at the nightly campfire or how your dad would hug you tight compared to the gentle embrace he normally gave you. You were the exception and it shone through.
Pt. 2
"...Y/n..Y/n!" You jumped up and let out a cough, half sitting up in bed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." You felt part of the mattress sink down and you looked at your mom. "No, it's alright. You didn't mean too," You sniffled. "Ugh, damn flu." Your mom ran a hand threw your hair and kissed the top of your sweaty forehead. "How are you feeling?
"Miserable." You looked out the window and seen nothing but darkness. "Where are we?" You asked. "Just outside Bankerton, Iowa. You slept through the whole ride and pit stop."
"Is that what we're calling it now?" Rose frowned. "Don't be fresh." You laid your head back against and waved your hand dismissively in the air. "Where outside Bankerton though?"
"Nowhere you have to worry about. Either way you won't be seeing or hearing it." She took hold of one of your hands and kissed the tops of your knuckles.
Crow stepped out from the cockpit of Rose's RV sharpening a knife. "Rosie, you ready to go?" She nodded and caressed your cheeks. "Stay put and rest please?" You nodded and rolled onto your side. "Love you mama," You muttered into the pillow. "Love you too, sweetie." You could hear the sound of footsteps followed by the slam of her trailer door.
...
You tried to ignore the screams but they were unavoidable. Your hands gripped at the comforter as each word came rolling off whatever child it was that they captured.
"Number 19!" You could hear the smack of the glove through the thin walls. "Kid, you were good." You cringed and squeezed your eyes shut. "No! No please don't-" Tears started flowing down your cheeks. "I won't tell! I won't tell! Please!"
You buried your head underneath your pillow despite the fever baking off of you and tried to ignore the pleas for mercy and final came that scream. That god awful scream you knew too well.
"Please god, make it stop and make it quick," You whispered aloud. You could hear the husky barks of the baseball boy's screams followed by the pouring out of steam. "That poor boy." You found him in the distance and reached out with your shine.
(Can you hear me?)
Nothing. You gave it a shot again.
(Hello?)
This time you were greeted by a sharp, burning pain in your abdomen and you screeched. "Oh fuck! Fuck!" The bohemian-chic setting of Rose's setting began to fade around you and you found yourself standing in the middle of a picnic ground.
The leaves around you were turning and the weather felt beautiful but you had a feeling you weren't there for a beautiful day. You noticed Barry standing next to you and you tried to reach out to him to see if he would react but you got no response.
'What the fuck is going on?' You thought to yourself. You noticed a stuffed bunny similar to the one you had as a child sitting on a picnic table with a needle sticking out of it. "Parlor tricks! It's all a fucking parlor trick!"
(Save yourself while you still have the chance.)
BANG!
You keeled over and gasped as you felt your insides burning. In the far distance you could hear your mother's voice. 'No, get out of there! Get out of there.'
Despite the pain you glanced around and scanned the people around you. 'Dad. Where the hell is my dad?'
BANG!
You whimpered and screamed. Each shot feeling like a stab at your heart. You could feel each of them slipping from your mental grasp and you let out a sob.
(MOM! MOM!)
Nothing.
(Please hear me! Please hear me.)
Still nothing. "Make it stop! Make it stop! Please, how do I make it stop?" You begged, desperate to prevent any of this.
(Leave the looker alone.)
Eventually the vision faded from your mind and when you eventually woke up you were a hysterical mess, refusing any comfort from your aunts or uncles. At first they figured you'd eventually calm down and so they kept at making attempts at trying to hold your hands or run a hand through your hair that way they could get on the road as soon as your parents finished shovel duty but you wouldn't stop. It wasn't until you started sputtering out fragments about an ambush and a looker that they began to listen. Fear unlocked an unnoble reserve across their faces and they scrambled for help.
Rose sent Crow over to you try and knock some sense into you. "What did you see?" Your father yelled over your screams as he attempted to try and pull you into a hug, his bloodied hands and arms staining your skin. "Just get..away!" You knew your mother wasn't there but you couldn't remember if your father was.
That sinking feeling settled deep inside you and you couldn't bear to look him in the eyes. You couldn't-no you wouldn't be able to handle losing either or both of your parents.
"If you think I'm just going to let you be alone while you're like this, you're out of your damn mind." You attempted to push him away but he was strong. You wanted your mom. You couldn't look at him.
"Just relax. I'm right here, baby. Daddy's right here." You let out a wail and buried your head in chest, knowing you weren't going to be getting out of this.
"I-i can't-I want mom!" He shushed you and gently rubbed shapes on your back. "I know..I know but I'm not going anywhere. It's okay." You cried into him, gripping tightly to the back of his shirt.
...
When you woke up in bed the next morning, the space that Crow occupied was empty but you weren't alone. Your mother stood in your kitchenette, rummaging through your cabinets.
You sat up and groggily rubbed your eyes. You noticed your arms weren't stained from the blood of whatever child it was that they took and you wondered how long she had been in your trailer before you woke up. "What are you looking for?"
"Your tea. Did I not teach you anything about self comfort when you were little?" Her tone was teasing and you found yourself hinting at a smile. "Other cabinet, bottom left hand side."
Rose shut the cupboard she had opened and grinned at the sight of neatly stacked tea boxes. "Ah! So nice to see someone else around here with such refinement. Chamomile or peppermint?"
"Peppermint, please." You watched as she poured the clearly hot water into a tea cup. "How long have you been here?"
"Long enough to make sure you were properly taken care of. Does it matter though, my sweet?" You decided it didn't and you shook your head.
Rose walked over with your cup of tea and sat down across from you, carefully handing over the scalding beverage. You set it down on your window sill and your eyes interlocked with your mother's. Despite taking steam last night, she looked barely any younger to you.
She held her mug up to lips and took a sip as if it was a drink she desperately longed for. "Care to tell me what happened night?" The question was met with silence and Rose smiled. "Okay, let me rephrase that. What did you see last night?"
"I'm not talking about this with you." Your mom laughed. "Oh, sweetie. You know well enough that unlike your father, I don't give choices on matters like this."
You glanced around your trailer. "Where is he anyways?" You asked softly. "Out getting Grampa whatever fruit he asked for this morning. Why?"
"Good. Because if we're talking about this, I don't want him to be around because I can't even look him in the eye as it is right now." Rose raised a brow and stood up off the mattress to lock the door. "That bad?"
"Yeah.." As you explained the whole thing to Rose, she held your hand gently in her own. Occasionally planting gentle kisses on your knuckles as you got emotional at times.
"Was he there? Your father?" She squeezed your hand tightly. "I don't know. I don't remember seeing him but I remember feeling him somewhere and he was in pain. You were in pain too but you were back at home."
"And where were you?" You paused for a moment. "With the rest of the family. Dad wanted me to go with him but you didn't..I ended up going anyways. It felt like someone tore my heart out and ripped it into pieces right infront of me."
"Yeah, I'd imagine." Her response was short and snippy almost as if she was being defensive. "The thought of losing either of you, let alone the rest of our family-" A lump grew in your throat and you couldn't say anymore.
Rose sighed and ran a hand through your hair. You tried looking inside her mind but it was completely blank. "...a long time ago, the person who turned me taught me something smart. The past, that's completely set in stone but the future: that's in pencil."
"Mom, I'm telling you. There's no changing this. If you go after this looker, Uncle Doug, Aunt Sarey, all of them. They're going to die." You insisted.
"You also had a vision of us murdering Ariel from The Little Mermaid when you were six." You could tell your mom was trying to comfort you but you wanted none of it. You had to stop her. "And not even a week later, the little girl you took was wearing an Ariel bracelet. Mama, I've never been wrong on this stuff."
"I know-"
"Bad things are going to happen if-"
"I know! I know but she still has time to ripen. Things might change by then. You might be turned by then." 'I won't let that happen though,' You thought to yourself. You might not have control over this situation but you had control over that. You'd let them all murder you before them turn you.
"You're not that far away from 18. I've got to take care of the family, Y/n. I need to take care of you. I lost your other siblings and I am not losing you. Your father and I wouldn't be able to handle it. Hell, I'd be lying if I said your father wasn't hurt last night when you tried to turn him away."
Confusion mixed with pain as you felt your heart shatter into pieces. Your mother had told you that you were a miracle but never did you think of why you were a miracle to them. "Mama-"
"I will say no more." You couldn't tell if she was trying to protect you or her from more heart break. You figured the chances were it was probably for the both of you. "Besides, when have I ever let you or any of the family down?" You didn't even have to think about the answer to the question. "Never."
"And why is that?" She hummed. "Because mama fixes everything." Your voices blended together and Rose smiled. "See? I've always kept everything under control." You felt a little bit better but still couldn't shake that dark feeling away.
Rose pressed a kiss against your forehead. "Try not to worry about it too much, darling." You nodded and took a sip of your cooled tea.
You could hear the sound of crunching leaves in distance and identified it silently as the sound of the Jeep. "I should apologize."
"To who?"
"Dad. I didn't mean to push him away. I just-" Rose shushed you. "I know." She stood up from your bed and held a hand out towards you. "Come on. I'll take you to see him. That way it's a little less awkward."
"Thanks," You hummed softly and let Rose guide you towards the front door. "Mama?" She turned to look at you as she placed her hand on the doorknob. "Yes, my sweet?"
"I love you.." You didn't have to look at your mom to know she was smiling. "I love you too, angel.."
Pt. 3
Not long after that you did forget about the whole thing for a while but the premonition never slipped from your mind. You were always on alert subconsciously and silently praying whoever this looker was, that their shine would just fade and they wouldn't matter anymore but even though no one was talking about, you could also tell your family was suffering.
While some part of you felt that maybe, just maybe, they deserved it for all the pain they had caused to all those kids and their parents, they were still your family and it didn't mean you loved them any less. You just didn't like what they did.
On that cool, October night you sat next to Snakebite Andi in a lounge with your hands interlaced as you both read a copy of 'The Dark Tower' infront of her RV. It was a reclusive spot away from the rest of the family and it was one of your favorite places to be besides Rose's trailer. Like Rose, Andi was a safe person to you and it helped that you both were close in age. You both understood each other and she enjoyed your company and you enjoyed her's.
"You know," Andi started as finished the fifth chapter. "If your dad had more personality, I could say he almost reminds me of Randall Flagg." You let out a chuckle and flipped the page with your unoccupied hand. "Doesn't help that he wears the cowboy boots and jeans too," You smiled. "He's really not a dry person. It's just that he's very straight forward with somethings."
"That's a word for it." You lowered the book and scowled slightly. "Sorry. It's not personal. It's just-" You gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and gave a sympathetic smile. "I know." She lowered her book as well and you both stared up at the dark night sky. "Your mom tell you what happened to me?"
"Bits and pieces." You paused for a moment. "It's not your fault, you know? If I was in your position, I would of done the same thing." Andi sighed and rubbed her face. "Yeah, I know. It's just hard, you know."
"I'd imagine." Andi cracked a hint of a smile. "Have you seen Rose today?" You shook your head. "No, actually. She told me this morning she had to go grocery shopping but I haven't seen her since. She should be back by now." You sat up. "That's weird..anyways, I had something to ask her."
"You want me to see if she's back?" Andi nodded. "If you don't mind." You waved to her. "Not at all. I'll be back." She returned the gesture and brought the book back up to her face. "I'll see you."
You walked slightly up hill to your mother's RV and carefully knocked on the door. You knew she had to be back. You seen the Jeep parked up hill. "Mama?" Your father opened the door. Normally he was all smiles and amicable but not now. He looked frustrated. "Sweetie, now is not a good time."
"Why? What's wrong?" You asked quietly. "Your mother is a little besides-"
"Crow, who's at the door and don't even think about lying to me!" He breathed inwardly and looked at Rose. "Y/n, dear."
"Let her in. I'd love to get her opinion on the subject." He grimaced and opened the door a little more that way you could step inside. "Sure." Your eyes interlocked with his as you took your shoes off at the door. "Hi mama."
"Hi baby." Rose turned her gaze to Crow. "You can leave now." You could feel him biting back a snide remark and you had to try your hardest not laugh. "Night, Rosie."
"Night." Crow shut the door behind him and your mom paced back and forth for a minute. "You okay?" You asked. "Remember back in Iowa, when you had the flu?"
"Yeah." You felt the pit in your stomach growing. "The looker I told you I seen, she found me again." You furrowed your brows.
"Why?" You asked. "I don't know and I don't care but I want her and your father is arguing with me about having her and I want her." Her eyes looked insane and you had to swalow your fear. The memory of that awful vison you had coming back over.
"S-she's that big of a steamhead?" Rose scoffed and smirked impishly. "Oh honey, she's huge. She's the epitome of the Great White Whale." You shifted uncomfortably and hoped she didn't notice it. "I fail to see why your father can't recognize that."
"I mean, even if none of us agree you're going to do what you want anyways." The words were innocent on the surface but the tonality of your words was snippy and fresh.
Your eyes mixed with her's and before you had the chance to block her from your mind, Rose already seen what laid underneath the surface. "You little bitch. You agree with him."
"I-it's not that it's just- Mom, I've never been wrong." Her eyes rolled into the back of her head. "Are we seriously going back to this again?"
"Mom, what do you want me to do?! Let you go into this thing blind and let you get everyone killed because of one girl?" You screamed.
"Don't you dare back talk to me. Again, you could be wrong. You're just a fucking child and I won't let you control me." There were two ways you could respond to her words. Either use the option that would let her be just a little pissed and life would get back to normal, or B, to push.
"I'm almost eighteen years old! You're not going to have control over me much longer. It's overbearing and if the other's had any balls, they would tell you they feel the same way, including dad."
"If I were you, I'd watch your words dear. They might come back to bite you. Tell me dearest, how am I overbearing?" Despite Rose's anger she was smiling at you.
"You kept me from my own father for over 3 years." You noticed Rose's hands balling up into fist. "I have my reasons for what I do and the sooner you come to understand that, the better. Do you know how long it's been since our family has been able to birth children into it?"
She walked towards you and caressed your cheek. You could feel her anger radiating off of her so much you almost wanted to cry at the near sight of her. "You're special honey. Maybe even more special than I am but that will remain in between the two of us. That's why when we get the lookers steam, I want to turn you."
"I don't want to be-"
"And was I asking for your opinion? No. I didn't ask for yours and I certainly did ask for your fucking father's either." She picked up a vase and threw it unceremoniously against the wall. The shards glistening all over the wooden floor of her trailer and you found yourself relating to it's broken state.
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why are you doing and acting like this? I know you're stressed out but I don't want to-"
"Because I can't lose you, god damn it!!" You were no stranger to your mom's yelling but her words made you feel sick to your stomach. "What?" You asked. "For gods sakes, Y/n. You're a smart girl. Use your brain." Her voice was venomous and bitter. "Everything I do is for you and this family! Not for me! For everyone else's benefit. I want you to have everything I do and be able to live just as long, if not longer than I do and yet here you are acting like a selfish little bitch! You don't want to be fucking turned! Forget going down in the blaze of fire, think of what you would do your family!"
"Mom, I'm not trying to be selfish. I'm worried about you. I don't want you to-"
"Don't talk back to me! I don't want to hear any of your bullshit excuses! You don't know how lucky you are, Y/n! You wouldn't believe how many miscarriages and stillbirths I had until you came around."
"I know, mama. I appreciate you and lo-"
"Then stop worrying about me so much and let me do what I have to do to get us what we need." Tears welled up in your eyes and you nodded. "Y-yes mama."
Rose shook her head and ran her fingers through your hair. "What a waste of life you are." Her words felt like a knife and you finally hit your breaking point mentally and physically. Tears started streaming down your face and it wasn't until Rose seen you crying, she realized what she had.
"Y/n..Y/n, baby! I-" You shook your head. "No, you did. You meant every word of what you just said to me," You snapped. "Y/n, I just got so angry. I really didn't mean it." You refused to meet her eyes and Rose attempted to pull you into a hug. "Sweetie-"
"Just me alone. I don't want to talk to you right now!" You ran out of her trailer. "Y/n!" Rose attempted to grab your wrist. "Don't you run from me Y/n."
"Just get away!" You shoved her the opposite direction and panic began to bubble up inside her as she watched you run into the woods. "Y/n! Y/n!"
Andi tried running after you. She grabbed your wrist and you pushed her away. "Don't you fucking touch me! Any of you!"
Crow stepped out of his trailer, hearing the commotion. "What the hell just happened?" He shouted over to Rose.
She seen red and started throwing her antique candle holders all over the place. "Fucking bullshit! I refuse to deal with this.." She kept going on and Crow tried to grab her hands. "Rosie-"
"Just step away from, Crow! You're turning her against me. This is all your fault!" She shouted then started crying. "My fault? How the hell is it-" His infrequent temper started to shine through and he had to take a deep breath to calm himself down. "Can you tell me what happened?"
Rose explained the whole thing from start to finish, every other word coming out of her mouth being foreign Irish curses.
"Rosie, what did you think was going to happen? For me to say your remark to her was hurtful is an understatement. I get it. You're still in pain but that's been over. What the hell were you thinking?!" Crow spat, unusually harsh in his tone. "I-i don't know. Look- I didn't think she was going to run."
"Yeah well, she did and I can't exactly say that I blame her." Rose paused at his snarkiness. "What do I do now?" Crow covered his face with his hands. "Apologizing would probably be the right thing, Rosie."
"I can't go up there and talk to her."
"Why not?"
"Because, she's not going to want to see me. Not after what I said. Why can't you go talk to her?" Rose could hear the whining tone in her voice and she hated it. "Because I'm not the one who made her upset. Look, just be gentle. Let her get what's in her system out. It'll be fine."
"Okay." Rose let out a shakey breath and began her walk up hill. She didn't even know how she was even going to begin what she had to say. She heard sniffling in the distance and breathed inwardly. "Y/n?"
"I told you I don't want to talk to you. Go away!" Rose had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. "Y/n..Y/n, I'm sorry." She called out. "No you're not. You wouldn't of said what you did then."
"Well even if you don't want to talk, can you at least just show me where you are." Rose heard the crunching of leaves and you stepped out from behind one of the large trees. Minimal lightning shined on your face but she could see your mascara was running.
Rose pulled one of her cloth bracelets, a souvenir from one of her victims, of her wrist to clean your face up. "Sit down, please." Rose was surprised you obeyed and she knelt down across you. Tenderly wiping your makeup off your face. "Never can quite understand why you and Andi feel the need to wear this stuff. You both are young girls."
"Yeah." You let out a chuckle and your eyes locked for a minute. In that moment you both looked at each other something inside you clicked and you felt a pang of sadness.
"Y/n, are you okay?"
"I-i" You bit down on your lip,silently hating yourself for the words that were going to come next. "I'm sorry!" You let out a sob and held onto your mom tightly. "No, no. You have nothing to be sorry about. I just felt so angry and the words just spilled and I'm sorry. You're my world, my everything, and I'd never mean to hurt you the way I did." You sniffled and nodded your head feverishly. "I'm just so scared," You whispered so softly you didn't even know if she heard you at first.
"I know but I'm going to fix it because I always fix what's wrong, right?" Rose forced you to meet her eyes and you sniffled. "Mama always fixes everything."
"Yes, but-"
"But what?" She wiped a tear away from your eye. "You can't fix everything, mama." Rose sighed and you nuzzled close to her. "I'm going to try to though. I want a good life for you. That's all I ever wanted for you and our family. Just think of what this looker could bring!"
"But mama, people are going to get hurt. Good people! You, daddy-"
"Your father and I are strong."
"But you're not invincible."
When you looked into your mother's eyes they were full of mania and panic and it scared you. "Please, just this once, listen to me," You begged.
The look on Rose's face was unreadable and she pressed a kiss against your forehead. "I make no promises but for at least tonight, this will be the end of the discussion." You sighed some relieved and Rose smiled, placing her one sleeve under the bags of your eyes and wiped them. "God, your eyeliner is so smudged too."
You chuckled and rubbed your eyes. "That makes two of us then because so is yours." Rose actually chuckled and held her hands out to hold yours. For a moment you felt as if you actually understood her. "You're coming back to camp with me?"
You thought about the words of the baseball boy and you looked down at The True's campfire you seen in the distance and everything came together. You were like the fire burning below. Fast and passionate yet delicate and easy to put out. Destiny was destiny and if you were to go in the blaze of fire then so be it. You knew where you belonged and no matter what, that was with your family. "Yeah..I'll come."
"Good." Rose's smile on her face was bold and you couldn't help but felt a tinge of irony panging through you. Their only living child who came so close to life yet would lose it so within arms reach. While you fulfilled your destiny, they would live theirs. All those children they took from families who loved their child so similar to the way did, they would also lose their child and now that they knew what was supposed to go down like the other families, they also would have to live with it.
A cynical smile graced your beautiful face and you smiled. "Mama?"
"Yes, my sweet?" You pressed a kiss against her cheek. "I love you." Rose smiled and swung her hand back and forth as you walked back home together. "I love you too my blessed angel. I love you too.."
35 notes · View notes
wwwafflewrites · 4 years
Text
The Not-So-French Mistake
Chapter 6: Crossroads Angel
Sydney was seated on an ashy bench when Dean found her. “Appreciate my sobriety, kid. That,” he said, “was rough.”
He lazily watched people scatter into their sectioned camps. He briefly wondered if being an angel was like this, but dismissed the thought. Being an angel wasn't about supervision; Castiel was a warrior of heaven―not a babysitter. “Where did they get tents and sleeping bags? Half the city was fried extra crispy.”
She didn’t answer. Instead, she wrinkled her face at an intruding thought that haunted her. “Why do I get the feeling that we're losing? Guns won't do squat if this thing is an angel or a demon. No, scratch that―anything you guys hunt can't be killed with a regular bullet. This is pointless!”
Dean considered it and then shrugged, unaffected. “They're townspeople. We can't do much except shield them from whatever evil gets in the way. False hope is better than no hope at all.” He watched tent lights flicker off for sleep. “You can't expect them all to catch on. They weren't born into it.”
She protested, “But I wasn't born into this and look at me!”
“I'm not so sure about that, Sunshine.” He lifted an eyebrow. She was a smart cookie, Dean would give her that, but something told him that her abilities ran deeper than quick learning, and he believed his gut. He said, “Back at the house―those were some fast reflexes. And the way you just knew how to load a gun? Sorry, but it's kind of fishy.”
“It was instinct!”
“Tootsie, that was muscle memory. I know it when I see it.” He almost pitied her ignorance. “I’m betting the thing that brought you here also toyed with your memory.”
She fumed at the outrageous idea. “My memory is perfectly fine!”
His face tightened into a knowing expression. “You said you watched our show, Supernatural, yeah?”
“Yes. Why is this―?”
“You remember Zachariah?”
“...Yes,” she said cautiously.
“Then you'll know he implanted fake memories into our brains and tricked us into believing we weren’t hunters to prove our ‘worth’ and other manipulative bull crap. Angels can do that. It’s not difficult for them.”
Her entire expression darkened, and she deflated. “Then... who am I?”
Dean was rarely sympathetic, but she looked so lost. “Hey, relax. I just didn't want you going into this clueless.” He planted a firm hand on her shoulder in distant comfort. It was seldom Dean was even this consoling.
She gave a distracted, sullen nod, staring at the dirt illuminated in rosy hues as the sun departed from the sky. Faded scarlet light danced along the tents as a sliver of the sun began to disappear altogether.
Dean frowned at her response. God, she was sulking. Now she was reminding him of Sammy. “Hey, don't get pouty on me. Save the tears, please,” he said.
Heat pooled behind her eyes. She blinked them back. Crying in front of Dean Winchester was not on her bucket list. “What do they want with me?” The waver in her tone was poorly hidden.
He patted her back, recalling the years when Sammy had suffered nightmares; this was eerily similar. “Not sure, kiddo. But I'll tell you what, I'll do my best to make sure they don't get what they want. ‘Kay?” He soothed.
“Okay.” Her voice was hushed and timid. She sniffed.
And Dean sure had a soft spot for that. “O-kay. How about you go get some sleep? Alternate-reality-traveling can really take a toll. You look tired.” He encouraged.
“Yeah...” She stood reluctantly, as though she was anxious..  “Well, um, good night.” Her awkward parting ended with quiet patter of jittery footsteps as she strode to her lone tent. 
●●●
Sydney fumbled for her flashlight with twitchy fingers, her depth perception growing progressively murky as green shadows swallowed the daylight. Artificial white reflected off the metal framework and highlighted the plastic walls. The moonlight weaved through stray branches of trees and spindly weeds, and it was threaded like a spiderweb as it hit the tent. The anticipation added to the rap of her heart, and she found herself nearing panic.
The flashlight shook in her trembling hands, and her heart battered as she unzipped the door and crawled onto her sleeping bag. She kicked off her shoes, the abrasive polyester cold on her bare feet. The sleeping bag cushioned her weight as she sat in fathomless usease. She toyed with the hem of her jean jacket, too cold to depart with it. She hugged her frame, pulling the denim further around her nervously trembling form. She laid back against her pillow, tolerating the cold that seeped into her neck with a shiver.
Terror gripped her, and doubt twisted within her gut as she frantically questioned her future plans. These thoughts had been haunting her ever since she’d been left among the townspeople, yet now the full volume of her choices were attacking her confidence. Her trust was hardly reliable. Her anxiety always led her to wrong conclusions and dubious opinions.
She knew she could still search for guidance, despite how it terrified her. She desperately wanted to consult Dean, realizing he had lifetime experience with these issues. However, she also stressed he would reject and dismiss her idea, and she would wind up never returning home. She debated her options and thought back.
The town had been a disaster before she had taken initiative, it’s residents suffering as the temperatures wavered between boiling to lava-like. The heat storm seethed with fever, and chaos insued. Sydney had taken the duty of driving the remaining citizens to shelter and leading them to somewhat safe domain: ideally spaces without the nuisance of dissolving structures. It had required time to restore their faith in rescue and to gain their trust, yet soon the town was under her supervision. This leadership was natural―like it was buried within her subconscious instinct.
Naturally, her first attempts had been spent seeking outside communication. Phones, apparently, were a vain effort within the town’s ranges. Service had been cut off, wholly dead, and electricity was hopeless, considering the electric poles had literally been fused to the sidewalk. Functional cars were scarce and burdensome to run. She gave up further contact and took to the present issues before she would return to her attempts.
Those whose conditions were more severe were tended to, and, fortunately, most were responsive inside an hour. Few actually died with their watch while under medical care. She had also allotted the more alert survivors tasks, such as passing time by searching for supplies―specifically tents, blankets, and other sleep necessities. She was mindful they would be stuck here for some time. They traveled in sets of twos or threes, confident with the possession of bottled water.
However, as they came sprinting back to the temporary camp tear-stricken, her heart sank to her feet. She was responsible, and she had already failed them. Something in her stomach went rigid and her veins chilled so that she shivered, even underneath the blazing sun. The disappearance was one level of despair, but knowing that their siblings and parents were mourning them? It was unbearable. 
She had ordered them to stay put, don't follow. Her urgency had gotten the best of her, and she was determined enough to bust into the liquified storefronts and townhomes to find them if she must. These were families, and she wasn't going to see them broken. Not by her. She already knew what those with homesickness suffered. There was nothing admirable about the experience; it was only a constant longing and anguish for those she had left.
Ever since she had traveled to this twisted world, she was confined to her loneliness and bound to her very own dejection, isolated from those she sought. She was alone now, and while the towns and rolling hills were spacious and distant, she felt claustrophobic. The world of Supernatural was suffocating her ever so slowly.
A few brave souls offered their assistance, and she didn't refuse, nor accept them. She simply allowed their presence. Tolerated them. While she had grown fond of her adopted band of survivors, she was fed up with being dished the sloppy, inferior plate of absolute garbage her life was gradually transforming into. Her investment in the television show hardly even existed! She didn't understand why she was chosen. Rage boiled within her, and she could do nothing to defuse it besides fix her mistakes. Her thoughts repeated her pitiful temper: unfair unfair unfair.
She marched off, kicking down crooked doorways and punching her way through cooled ashes just to simmer her inner distress. As she calmed, the sting of aching muscles brought her to a state of temporary peace.
The loyal followers trailing her seemed wary of her mood and kept their distance. She sent them an apologetic glance, realizing her actions were inflicting a mild fear into the already heated air. She felt the need to justify her behavior, but she was grasping at straws and excuses.
Worse, she understood why; she knew the unspoken truth. She was feisty, deft, and clever: a sore replica of the Winchester brothers, and she knew it. God, she knew it. She was practically their sister, their personalities were so comparable. She could even somewhat relate to the hunting: despite the lack monsters, she knew her way around a gun.
The rage-driven hunt slowly morphed into something of purpose. She split off from the team―reminding them to stick together; she knew she was being a hypocrite, but she couldn't bring herself to care. 
“I can help you get home,” a masculine voice said from a veil of sweeping shadows.
Sydney had been aggressively prying open a stiff, splintered door when she jerked it back in alarm, pummeling her hand onto it and stumbling as her heart skipped a beat. “Freakin’ learn to knock!” she managed to say, leaning against the wooden edge of the doorframe to regain her composure and a portion of her dignity.
“There's no need to be distressed,” the voice behind her offered, dangerously patient and bare of implications or suggestions.
Sydney turned and said to the motionless silhouette, “And why would you do that? Why would you help me get home?”
She couldn't see his face, but she could hear the deadly smirk in their words. “Because you're out of options.”
She bristled. “The Winchesters have offered to help. They're enough.”
“Are they? Two pitiful, self-sacrificing men and a hopelessly fallen angel? Castiel is useless, he can do nothing to help you,” he said, sneering. 
Cas was apparently a sore topic, and she was tempted to poke that festering wound. She contemplated the course of action, and ultimately was fond of it; he was annoying. “Castiel is the only angel I trust right now. After all, he rescued me from frying in that hotel room you angels had me locked in.” Sydney eyed the spread silver outline of his intimidating, metallic wings illuminated by the cracks in the walls. “What can you do that they cannot? They have accomplished more than you possibly could.”
He followed her gaze to his sides. “You can see my wings?” He did not seem fazed. Rather, amused. “Interesting.”
She inquired, “Yes. And why is this so out of the ordinary? Should I... not see them?”
“Humans don't have the ability to see our wings,” he said to her.
She froze, staring at the perplexing lines of plumage glowing in a hazy wisp of blue grace. The question, it appeared, was never 'who is Sydney?' but 'what is Sydney?', and that was a startling mutation of the merely concerning one. It’s one thing not to know of your past, but it's another thing to not know what you are. She felt like a foreigner in her own skin.
“Never mind that,” the angel said. “I’m your ticket back home.”
She pinched her lips, gnawing at her cheek in thought. How often had the Winchester been screwed through a deal like this? Too many, was her original thought. But what if he could actually get her home? It was extremely tempting. “What’s your price?”
“My price? I'm not a demon, girl. Deals are not made by angels.”
“But you want something anyway.”
He grinned, but it never reached the eyes quite right. “I admit, there is something you must collect in order to return to your reality.” He stiffened when a shuffle and clap of an untrained foot met a floorboard above them, creaking as her team thoroughly searched rooms. He tsked. “It is not safe to tell you just yet. Meet me here tonight when your allies are asleep. Do not fail me.”
“Wait, hey, hello, pause―can't you just snap me out? I know how angels function.”
Again, that eerie smile of his. “My grace is dwindling. Had you not noticed Castiel's crippled state? We are all weakening.”
There was a lush purr and murmur of feathers, and he had vanished.
@queen-bubble
8 notes · View notes
kamino-ink · 6 years
Text
A Mess of Stress | Seo Changbin
Tumblr media
✧ Genre: Soulmate!au, really cute you gUYS, minor angst
✧ Summary: Changbin has always been your best friend; he’s there to comfort you when you’re upset, to hold you close when you’re scared, and hug you tightly when you’re happy - but, he’s constantly pushing away his own problems in doing so. You’re determined to help him open up.
✧ Word Count: 2.8k
✧ Want to read other parts of this series? Check out my masterlist!
                                         ✧
 Having an emotion based connection to your soulmate was positively exhausting, to say the least. You could sense their emotions and they could sense yours; there wasn’t a real way to identify who that other half of you was, physically. All you could hope for was the very, very slim chance that somehow you would be around said soulmate during a period of intense emotional pressure, such as overwhelming happiness after spotting an absolutely adorable dog across the street, or even waves of fear while watching a spectacular horror film.
 In terms of your soulmate and how they felt bearing your emotions, you more or less felt really bad for the poor sap. You were prone to having some intense mood swings, mostly because you were rather sensitive to the world around you. When you watched dramas, you usually went from a warm ball of joy to a feeling of so much sadness that, if it was possible, your ears would droop downwards like an upset puppy. Or, for another example, you would be skipping down the sidewalk alongside your group of friends when you spot some ignorant asshole carelessly throwing a bundle of trash onto the grass - which would have you bubbling over in anger that was often expressed by you grabbing the trash and tossing it into the nearest bin since someone clearly couldn't do it on their own.
 “Holy shit, I am going to implode before I get this study guide done!” You whined loudly in the midst of your bedroom, your grip on your pen tightening while you rested your cheek onto the stack of papers on top of your desk.
 “And why is that, Y/N?”
 “Because my soulmate is always feeling so fucking stressed out, and since I’m stressed out already it really isn’t helping.”
 “Ah, I got you.” The man sprawled out on your comforter hummed after your exasperated explanation, meeting your dead gaze with a quirked eyebrow. “So are you like, pissed at them or what?”
 You huff quietly, lifting your head again just to bury your cold cheeks into the palms of your hands while you propped your elbows onto the desk. “No, I mean I get it, you know? But it worries me how often they’re so stressed out, Binnie.” Another sigh escapes your lips. “I’m worried about their home life or whatever, you know? What if they’re stuck in a shitty family situation and I can’t help them? Or - what if they’re all alone studying their ass off for some huge exam? Oh god, what if they’re like the CEO of a company and that’s why they’re so stress-”
 “Calm down, Gyu. I doubt they’re so important that they’re the CEO of some high and mighty company,” Changbin murmured, sitting up on your bed to hold his arms out encouragingly, watching as you let out another disgruntled noise and walk over to your bed, flopping down onto the messy blankets and sheets right into his arms, “everyone gets stressed out, you’ll just have to deal with it for a while.”
 “I still don’t understand why you gave me the same nickname as your stuffed Munchlax.”
 “Is that seriously the only thing you got out of what I just said?”
 “No, Binnie - I just... whoever my soulmate is, they’re really important to me. I just want them to relax and be happy, wherever they are in the world.” You admit softly, nearly letting out a purr as the man starts to slowly run his fingers through your hair, his other hand coming to rest underneath your head and readjust it so your head was resting peacefully on his lap.
 “Mhm. Well, I’m sure that the lucky bastard is happy as can be, even if you can’t feel it over their stress.” He reassured you calmly, smiling to himself as you visibly start to relax under his touch and curl up even closer to him.
 “H-hey, don’t call my soulmate a bastard, asshole.”
 “Alright, whatever you say, Gyu.”
 You really wanted to know what Changbin’s soulmate bond was. The secretive man had yet to even speak a word of it for however many years the two of you had been friends, and it seemed as if none of your other mutual friends could exactly pinpoint what his connection was either. Both you and Felix, arguably the two closest people in the world with Changbin himself, were dead set on figuring it out.
 Felix had met his soulmate a couple of weeks ago, and now the only people left in your close-knit trio to find their respective soulmates were, of course, you and Changbin. Though, as time went by, you found yourself feeling like you’d be alone forever. A connection through just emotion wasn’t enough to go off of, especially compared to a bond similar to say, Felix and his soulmate; they could essentially “see” through the other person’s eyes if they concentrated hard enough, which was how Felix was able to hunt them down after so long.
 The cherry on top was the fact that your soulmate was still overwhelmed with crushing stress. While it was clear that they were at least trying to compensate for the distress that weaved its way into your head, it wasn’t enough - you were starting to crumble under emotions that didn’t even belong to you. On occasion, your other half would have snippets of joy or warmth that flooded your senses, but they would rarely last more than maybe two minutes before the stress started to eat at their brain - and yours, too.
 But that was one of the least of your concerns at the moment, because for now, you were trying to distract yourself by prying into Changbin’s head.
 “Binnie, why can't any of us know what your connection is?” The question is innocent enough in all honesty, your lips curled into a soft pout of confusion as you utter the words to the man you called your best friend sat next to you in the middle of class.
 Music theory was interesting, but it wasn’t really your top choice in electives for the new semester; but then the black haired man had sent you a defeated frown when he noticed you didn't share any classes with each other. So, naturally, as one does, you sacrificed a random elective in creative writing so you could be with him for some portion of the school day.
 Changbin spared you a quick glance before turning back to his notes, scribbling messily on his notebook and occasionally going to jot something down in the little notepad he carried with him everywhere. “I just, don’t care about the idea of having my friends potentially invading my privacy and my soulmate’s, okay?” He utters gruffly, but it isn't enough to satisfy you.
 While you definitely weren't looking to agitate him or push his buttons, you still had so many questions.
 “Alright, that’s understandable - but can I at least get a hint?”
 “No.”
 “Do you know if they're a boy or a girl? I bet that they’re awesome either way, maybe we could all be friends!”
 “Uh huh...”
 “Oh, I wonder if they live close by - wouldn’t it be cool to take a trip somewhere new, just to meet them in person-”
 “Can you shut the fuck up, please?” Changbin finally snapped, albeit not causing a scene in the middle of the lecture - his voice came out sharp and gruff, still enough to startle you. “Stop trying to get me to open up, it’s annoying as fuck Y/N.”
 “I-” You stutter on your next choice words, feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment because somehow, you had managed to piss of your best friend. “I’m sorry, Changbin.”
 “Yeah, whatever. Apology accepted, Gyu.” He mutters, not even looking at you as he goes to write something else in his hidden notepad.
 Usually the nickname would make you feel warm and bubbly, but all you could think of was how you had pushed your friend too far. So you nodded silently before turning back to your side of the shared desk, letting your hair move to the side of your face so that he couldn't see the flush of your cheeks, or the guilt ridden flash in your eyes.
 You felt like shit, and you were positive that your soulmate felt the same way - or not, who knows, since the person was as stressed as ever, even more so than before if that was even possible.
 Your emotions were an unhealthy mix of guilt, stress, and sadness; ever since you had caused the patient Changbin to snap at you in the middle of Music Theory last week, you’d tried to keep your talking to him at a minimum; at least in terms of soulmates. Not a word of your struggles regarding keeping up with your soulmate’s drowning emotions seeped out between your lips the entire week, and you had completely stopped asking Changbin about his bond.
 “Ugh, I hate this!” You groaned into your pillow, holding the fluffy material against your face for a few more moments before tossing it aside onto the bed, a soft sigh echoing in your otherwise silent bedroom.
 Tomorrow was the day of the campus dance - it usually went on in the start of October, since most of the student body wouldn’t be at the school during the small break they got between Halloween and the first days of November. You’d been hoping for Changbin to bring it up at some point, but he’d simply brushed it off whenever it was mentioned. With another inevitable sigh, you lean over and grab your phone from your nightstand, bringing it up to your face and flinching at the initial flash of brightness from unlocking it.
 ‘Are you going to the dance tomorrow, Binnie?’
 Almost immediately you got a response, though it wasn’t the one you wanted.
 ‘No way, I’m swamped with work and shit the next couple of days. You’re not going, are you?’
 You’re contemplating on replying because you really, really wanted to go to the dance; tons of high schoolers tended to be let in since they were friends or relatives with the upperclassmen, albeit mostly college freshman, and you already knew that Felix and his friends would be going. It was rare for all of you to actually get together and goof around as a group, so you figured it was reasonable enough why you wanted to go.
 A notification pops up on the top of your screen, and you barely catch the contact name before it disappears.
 Why was Woojin texting you so late at night?
 ‘Hey kiddo, this is super sudden and probably late notice, but I was wondering if you wanted to go to the dance with me tomorrow? We haven’t gotten to talk in a hot minute since we’ve both been busy :D’
 ‘Actually I was just in the middle of debating on whether to go alone or not - let’s do it!’
 ‘Oh shit I didn't actually think you'd be going alone, but hey I guess that’s more us time then! Can I pick you up at eight? We can get dinner before or after if you want~’
 ‘By dinner you mean two buckets of KFC, honeybear, let’s be real with ourselves lmao. Eight is cool, and I’m down to eat whenever you want!’
 ‘That’s perfect, I’ll see you tomorrow then!! Get some sleep too, I know you still have an early class tomorrow’
 ‘Shut it, old man’
 You let out a chuckle as you reply to the older student, quickly going back to message Changbin about your plans for tomorrow night.
 ‘Good news~ Woojinnie asked me if I could go with him to the dance!! If you have a chance, you should drop by so all of us can hang out’ [read, 11:57 pm]
 “So, why couldn't Changbin come out tonight?” Chan asks you curiously, taking another swig of his beer that Minho had snuck into the dance, much to Woojin’s annoyance.
 You nibble on your bottom lip, readjusting the jacket Woojin had lent you a while ago since you'd gotten a bit chilly, just wearing a flattering top and pants. “He said that he’s being swamped with homework, but just the other day he told me he was free to go tonight.” You end up admitting to the three men, making Minho cock and eyebrow in burning curiosity.
 “I mean, I heard some of the other music teachers were assholes and assigned some papers the other day. That’s why my date couldn't come tonight, poor thing.” He hummed with a shrug.
 “You would've ditched the poor girl just so you could take shots out here, Minho.” You deadpan, giggling as he pouts and glares at Chan and Woojin who silently nod in agreement.
 “Hey, it looks like it’s about to rain,” Woojin murmurs nonchalantly, looking up to the darkening sky now riddled with icky gray rainclouds, with a sudden boom of thunder being more than enough to convince you all that his prediction was right, “lets head to the car, yeah? We can go get some food and head back to my place for the night since you idiots came here alone and drank without a designated driver.” The elder man scolded the other two playfully, smacking the backs of their heads as he started to head to the parking lot.
 “I’ll text Felix real quick and tell them to meet up with us at your house in a few.” You tell the trio as they start to walk to the car quickly, all of you feeling the first few droplets of rain.
 Since the sprinkles of rain didn’t exactly bother you, you take out your phone and send the message to the younger boy, only when you go to stuff it in your pocket the rain has turned into a full on downpour - soaking you within seconds.
 You try, and fail, to cover your exposed top half with your arms to act like a shield. It was not your week, clearly.
 Suddenly though, the rain has stopped pelting down onto your body. You look over, only to widen your eyes in shock.
 “I knew you wouldn’t look at the weather, Y/N,” Changbin mumbles softly, reaching out a hand to latch onto one of your arms and pull you closer to him under his umbrella, “not bringing an umbrella or a raincoat for you? Tsk, I guess Woojin couldn't be bothered to check the forecast either, then.”
 “W-what... what are you even doing here, Binnie?” You question him in surprise, glad that the darkness of the night and the bellowing storm was enough to hide your pink cheeks.
 The man stayed silent for a second, only to subconsciously tug you even closer to his body, leaving you quite literally pressed against his chest. “I felt like shit for ditching you. I didn't have any schoolwork, I was focused on something else entirely and was so fucking stressed about it-” he broke off to clear his throat and raise his voice so that you could hear him over the growing storm, “I also wanted to apologize for causing you so much stress over the past couple of weeks, er, months.”
 No way.
 “I - Changbin, that doesn’t make sense,” you breathed out airily, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and wonder, “you don’t make me feel stressed, ever. It’s my soulmate who - oh my god.”
 “Took you a second, huh?” He chuckled, leaning down just enough so his forehead was gently pressed against yours.
 “But how - how did you know? Why wouldn't you tell me, Binnie?” You ask him quickly, your words a rush as you start to ramble in a state of astonishment.
 “Whenever you get excited over the stupidest things, like finding extra change in your pocket or seeing a dog across the street, I feel your happiness. When you sob like a damn baby over those shitty dramas, I feel your sadness and agitation. I’ve always been able to easily feel every emotion you’ve ever felt.” He explains, slowly inching closer and closer down your temple so that the tips of your cold noses were pressed against one another. “I didn't say anything for so long because I didn't think either of us were ready. I mean, we were still kids just a year ago, technically,”
 “I didn't want to move too fast... but then the younger kids started meeting their soulmates, and they’re all happy and content. So... here I am?” He breathes out, his soft, warm breaths fanning out onto your parted lips, now just an inch or two away.
 Without wasting another moment thinking everything over, you cup the man’s cheeks in your hands and bring him down just enough so you can kiss him, tasting his sweet lips with a slow, caring pace. He nearly drops the umbrella in surprise, but catches it and manages to keep it over your heads as he slowly kisses you back, still using his other hand to hold you to his chest.
 You both pull away at the same time, blushing furiously on both ends.
 “... we’re about to go grab some KFC and crash at Woojin’s, you wanna come with?”
 “Of course I do, Gyu.”
                                         ✧
723 notes · View notes
mendesho · 5 years
Text
The Art of Discovery Part 2
A/N: Surprise! I know this took forever and a year, but it’s finally here. I hope you all enjoy it and I promise part 3 won’t take nearly as long.
Word Count: 3.5k
Link to part 1 Here
Like clockwork, he was back at the club the next week. Back at the spot where he usually sat with his usual drink and his eyes glued to the stage, waiting for her to appear.
His friends had asked him to hang out tonight, Brian insisting as they haven't spent much time together since Shawn's been on break. Shawn declined, of course. He told them he wasn't feeling that great, knowing the truth was he'd end up here. Waiting for her. Like he did most nights now.
“Why hello, stalker. You came back for me” A voice said next to him, starling him out of his thoughts.
 “Oh! Uh... hi...” He stammered. He would think after the events of last week, she'd be much easier to talk to. Yet somehow, he found it harder than ever, the image of her pressed against him making his brain go to static.
 She smiled, taking the seat next to him, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “So, I was thinking of taking the night off. How about you and I grab some food and I can get to know you better, eh?”
 His eyes widened. Was she...Was she asking him out?
 “Oh! Um... I um… yeah. Are sure you won't get in trouble?”
 She let out a laugh that sounded to Shawn like a choir of angels.
 “Oh you're so cute. I practically run this place so I can basically do what I please. Let me grab my jacket and I'll be back in a sec. Don't go anywhere, k pretty boy?”
He nodded, swallowing a gulp. He couldn't understand why this girl, this girl he barely knew, made his so God damn nervous. He was never nervous around girls. Always able to maintain his cool, but with her.. it was different.
She smiled once more, standing up from the seat and heading towards the back room.
 Shawn was lost in his thoughts. Thoughts of her. The way she smiled. The way she laughed. He wasn’t sure why he felt so weak for this girl, but there he was. 
She reappeared a moment later, pulling him out of his thoughts, as she heading back toward him with a smile.
 ‘Ready to go?”
 Shawn nodded gathering his things and headed out the door with her.
They ate at this little diner on the corner next to the club. The conversation felt natural. Like they had known each other for years rather than meeting merely a week ago.
 He learned her name was Elena, often called Ellie outside of the club.  She chose the name Electra from her favorite superhero.
 He learned that she was 22 years old, born on Valentine's Day.
 He learned she was from Winnipeg originally, but moved to Toronto after her parents kicked her out. Shawn opted to change the subject, knowing how sensitive it seemed to make her, the somber look on her face making his heart ache for her.
 She had 5 tattoos. One on her back, two on her wrist, one on her hip and one on her finger.
 He learned she was naturally brunette but she dyed it red to fit the persona she made.
 “So what about you, pretty boy? What's your story?” she said, taking a sip of her milkshake.
 Shawn wasn't really sure what to say. He didn't want to tell her who he was, in fear that she’d run away. He wasn’t ashamed of all that he had accomplished. He was very proud of it and amazed at how quickly his success came. He was afraid that if he told her, she would be scared away by it. The fans, the paps, the craziness. It was why he chose to remain single for as long as he had.
 “Well um... I'm 19, just turned. I'm from Pickering original but moved to Toronto for… school.” he said, his words not very confident.
 “Ah, you're a baby!” She said, with a laugh.
 Shawn let out a shy chuckle, scratching the back of his head.
 “I'm just messing with you, honey. What do you study in school?” She asked curiously
 “Music theory and sound engineering” He said without hesitation. It wasn't a total lie. He did want to study music theory; he just… got to skip a step.
 “Well that's awesome. You should play a song for me” She said with a sweet smile.
 “”Um, sure! I'd love to”
~
 He walked her home that night, still talking about their life. Their family, their friends.
 “So tell me, stalker. Do you have a girlfriend?” She asked
 Shawn shook his head, the thought of Lauren flashing quickly through his mind. “Not anymore, no”
 “Anymore?” Ellie asked, eyes looking at him quizzically
 “Yeah, we uh... just didn't work. No one’s fault really, but it's been a few months now” Shawn said with a nod.
 “Fair enough” She said
 “What about you?” Shawn asked. He felt a little uncomfortable prying like that, knowing he wasn't just asking to make small talk. He needed to know if she was taken. Needed to know if he could really have her the way he wanted.
 She shook her head, relief washing over him. “Nope, not in a while at least. Last guy really fucked me up so I've been kind of guarded for a while. Just focusing on work”
 “I'm sorry to hear that” Shawn said, a hint of sadness in his voice.
 “It happens. You just gotta roll with the punches and come out on top” She said with a smile. “This is me”
 They stood in front of a small brownstone building that looked like it hadn't been maintained in years.
 “Thanks for walking me home” She said with a smile.
 “Thanks for inviting me out to dinner”
 She smiled at him again, eyes glancing down to his lips for only a second.
 “Would you... like to come inside?” She asked.
 His heart felt like it wanted to leap out of his chest. Going inside. Seeing where she lived.
 The image of her pressed against a wall under him, her moans filling his ears.
 He had to shake the thought from his head. He just met her. As bad as he wanted her, as much as the thought of her pressed against him made his knees go weak, he had to respect that.
 “I would love to but… I think we should wait... maybe... get to know each other more?” His words sounded more like a question. Like he was trying to convince himself more than her
 “Handsome and a gentleman. How did I get so lucky to have a stalker like you?” She said with a sarcastic smile. “Alright then, pretty boy. I'll see you around”
 And with that, she opened the door and walked inside, turning around at him to smile once more before closing it behind her, disappearing behind the large wooden frame.
 He took a deep breath, wiping his face as the cold air stung his cheeks. He almost wanted to turn around, grab her by the hair and take her right there.
 He didn't know what came over him, why he was such a wreck for this girl. He shook his head again, turning to walk away.
~
 It was another night of him imagining her pressed into the bed, the feeling of her nails digging into his shoulder. The feeling of her soft skin on his lips and her sweet taste on his tongue.
 Another night of him seeking desperate relief from his desire.
 Another night of him wishing she was doing this instead of him doing it himself.
~
 He wanted to see her today. The problem was it was her day off. He tried to reason with himself if it would be too forward to show up at her house. Would that really make him a stalker?
 Before he could process his fears, he was already buzzing the door, hoping she would answer.
 “Hello?” A voice came over the intercom. A silky sweet voice that made his heat flutters.
 “Hey um… it’s your stalker” he said with a light laugh, hoping not to alert any of the passersby with his joke.
 “Hey stalker! I was just headed out. I'll come down” She said before the line went dead.
 He stood nervously chewing his lip, hands clutching the two warm lattes. He hoped she liked mocha.
 “Hey there, pretty boy” Her bubbly voice came, breaking him from his own nerves.
 He offered a bright smile at her. She was dressed in simple jeans and a rolling stones shirt with ballet flats. It was the most comfortable he'd seen her and somehow the most stunning.
 “I uh, got you a mocha latte.” He said, handing it to her.
 Her eyes beamed and she smiled, the crinkles by her eyes causing a flutter in the pit of Shawn's stomach.
 “My favorite! Thank you” She said, taking it from him, her fingertips brushing the back of his hand.
 She placed the cup to her lips, taking a sip and Shawn watched her the whole time. He felt like a proper creep, watching this girl sip her drink and his eyes never leaving her lips. He quickly averted his eyes back to hers.
 “So I’m assuming you didn't come all the way her just to bring me coffee. So, what can I do for you, pretty boy?” She said with a charmingly devilish smile.
 “Well... if you aren't too busy, I was wondering if I could take you to breakfast” Shawn said, shifting his weight from leg to leg, trying to quell his nerves.
 “I like food. Let's do it!” She said with a smile.
 Shawn smiled back, waves of relief washing over him like a warm beam of the sun breaking away the cold winter air.
 “Let's do it” He repeated with a smile.
~
 It was a nice breakfast they had together. It was strangely intimate, with the stolen looks and hidden smiles. Shawn felt like a mad man, the way he stared at her, taking every inch of her face in. Like if he looked away, he'd forget what she looked like.
 She sat back in the booth they shared, placing her hand dramatically on her stomach.
 “Ugh, I'm stuffed. This was amazing” She said with a smile.
 “I'm glad. Thank you for joining me.” Shawn said
 “Mm, I'm always down for free food haha” She laughed
 “What makes you think it's free?” Shawn said jokingly
 “Woooow, take a lady out and then expect her to pay? Guess you aren't such a gentleman after all” She said with a chuckle.
 Shawn smiled again, shaking his head. Her laugh was like music to him. He could write a whole album about her laugh.
~
 It had been a week since their breakfast date. Shawn made sure to get her number and they had been texting basically non-stop, less when she was working and he was at the studio.
 He sat in the usual spot, waiting for her to come out for her set. He felt less nervous now, being that he got to see a deeper side of her. A human side.
 He still couldn't help the sweaty palms that persisted as he thought about what her outfit might be for the set. How she would move. What she would do. He was still so wrecked by her and he hadn't even touched her. Not really.
 Soon the lights went low and the DJ came over the speaker to introduce her. She walked out, a seductive grin on her face.
 Her eyes scanned the crowd and immediately landed on him. Her smile shifted only briefly, showing a genuine smile of excitement. Excitement to see him.
 Her set started and she began to sway her hips, hands roaming up and down her body as she moved to the rhythm. She flipped her hair, long fingers gripping the cool metal of the pole, her body sliding down. She uses her strength to lift herself up, spinning around the pole like she belonged in Cirque du Soleil.
 Shawn watched her in awe. Not only was she incredibly beautiful, the way she moved was magic. Like a feather in the wind, drifting across the landscape.
 Before long, she removed the short white dress she had on, only covered by a light pink thong. She made her way off the stage, Shawn's eyes following her till she stood in front of him, eyes seductive and mysterious.
 She slung a leg on his lap, swaying her hips in front of him.
 He stopped himself from touching her and could feel the eyes of everyone in the building on him. He burned a bright red, but all he could see was her. This angel in front of him. Giving him all of her attention.
 She grinded on him, hips still moving in sync with the music, and her head thrown back as she moved. If there weren’t so many people, he'd take her right there.
 She got up from his lap, offering a wink before moving on to another guy sitting at the table next to him.
 He could feel his fist clench as the man grabbed her hips. She was his. He should be the one touching her. The only one.
 Her dancing on the man felt like it lasted an eternity instead of the brief moment it actually lasted, Shawn's eyes following her movements the entire time.
 Her set was over after that. Shawn could feel his heart pounding and his blood racing. He couldn't take it anymore.
 He had to have her.
~
 Before he could stop himself, went behind the curtain to find her. Determination courses through his veins.
 He had to find her.
 He saw her through the door of dressing room. With a deep breath and his mind in a haze, he made his way to the room, closing the door behind him.
 She turned, startled. When she saw it was him, she breathed a sigh of relief. She only had her bra and underwear on and Shawn held a breath as he stared over her body. He probably looked like a mad man with the way his eyes were wide and his mouth agape.
 “God, you scared me. Are you alright?” She asked, head cocked quizzically at him.
 He couldn't find the words. The only thing in his brain was her. Her body. Her smile. Her seductive looks.
 Just her.
 He couldn't stop himself. He barely felt his body move but somehow, he had her pressed against the wall, his lips crashing on hers as his hands made their way from her hips to her wrists, pinning them above her head.
 She didn't fight, the surprise lasting for a second before melting into his touch, her hips pushing towards his and soft moans falling from him lips into his.
 He was drunk on her. The desire for her he'd been holding back for weeks now flooding his body. The dark urge to tear her apart coursing through his body.
 He wanted to make her scream. He wanted to make her beg. He wanted to wreck her. Just as much as she had done to him without even touching him.
 He pulled back for a moment, studying her face. Looking for a sign to stop. That he'd gone too far.
 Her lips were puffy and her skin was flushed, her chest rising and falling. She squirmed against him, adjusting his grip on her wrist.
 She stared in his eyes, her own eyes dark and filled with desire. She pushed her hips into his, grinding against him. He bit his lip, letting out a groan, tightening his grips on her wrists.
 He stopped thinking, letting his body take control. He knew what he wanted. What he needed.
 He needed her.
 He released one of her wrists, easily gripping both in one hand. He moved his free hand down her body, pulling the cups of the bra down, exposing her breasts. He stared at her in awe, drinking in her body. She was even more stunning up close. Her skin soft and warm, her rapid breathing ghosting over his face. It was almost too much for him.
 He moved his hand lower, teasing the wet fabric of her underwear. He was having an internal battle in his mind. Unsure whether to take it slow. Savor this moment. Drink in her body. Or if he wanted to fuck her. Fuck her until she screams. Until she begs. Fuck her until everyone in the club knew his name. The person who was making her feel pleasure.
 She moaned as his fingers played with her. Teasing her. He could practically feel her dripping in his hand and it only made his animalistic side stronger.
 It was a side he knew was there, but never explored. A side he kept hidden away. He was always a gentle lover. Always taking his time, feeling every moment. But he knew deep down, there was something more feral inside.
 He thought it made him a freak. Made him a sexual deviant. The overwhelming desire to control someone. To have them beg for you. To control every aspect of their movements and orgasm. So he locked it away, keeping it only for himself.
 But now, with her. The way she's looking at him, her chest heaving, eyes wide and lips swollen and wet. He wanted to let it out. He wanted to wreck her.
 He made the choice.
 He gripped the thin fabric of her panties, tugging them to the point that they snapped and tore, a mangled mess of purple fabric in his hand. He saw a visible shiver course through her body and her eyes flutter.
 Fuck soft. He wanted her.
 He fumbled with one hand, pulling his belt, Jean's, and boxers down and thrust into her, giving her no time to adjust.
 “Fuck!” She screamed, biting down on her lip.
 That sound. Her moans of pleasure. This only fueled him. Fueled the beast within that was finally being released.
 He hitched her leg under her thigh, wrapping it around his waist as he continued his thrusting, the loud sounds of skin on skin and her thighs against the drywall echoing through the room.
 He groaned, his lips attaching to her neck as his lips and teeth nipped at her pristine skin. He wanted to leave a reminder. A reminder about who's she was. Even if she truly wasn't.
 He felt her legs tremble against him and her begin to pulsate around him. He could feel her getting close, but he didn't want this to end.
 “Hold it” He growled in her ear, gripping her wrists tighter.
 She nodded, her breathing becoming erratic. She swallowed hard, trying to focus on keeping herself together. Her eyes were shut tight and Shawn almost came just from the sight of her. How she was already wrecked for him and they had barely just started.
 He released her wrist, her other leg up on his waist, now the only thing supporting her weight other than the wall. He continued to fuck into her, fast and rough. This was better than any fantasy. Any dream that he could imagine. Better than all the nights he spent alone dreaming of this. Feeling her wet heat around him. How responsive she was. The way her moans sounded. The way her skin felt. This was better than anything. Than anyone he's had before.
 He felt her begin to tremble again, her breathing more rapid and her nails gripping into his shoulder.
 “F-fuck.. I..” She moaned, ”C-choke me”
 He groaned at her words, obliging immediately. His hand found her throat, and pressing on her pulse, being sure not to press too hard on her windpipe. He squeeze and released, repeating the actions again and again.
 She struggled to gasp, her trembling becoming greater. Soon she was coming undone around him, her orgasm racking her body and her raspy screams filling the air.
 Shawn felt his own orgasm creep on him, groaning loudly as he spilled into her, his hands still gripping her throat. He felt her pulse beneath his fingertips, the rapid beating of her heart. He rested his head on her shoulder, his legs barely keeping him upright.
 He stood there, still inside her. He breathing slowly becoming more normalized as the rational part of his brain took control again.
 What had he just done?
 He lifted his head, looking her in the eyes, the worry present on his face. Maybe he crossed a line. Maybe he should have stopped himself.
 She smiled at him, releasing her legs from around him and stumbling as she tried to gain her footing
 “Wow, pretty boy” She breathed, her hands still gripping his shoulder, supporting herself. “What did I do to deserve that kind of greeting”
 He couldn't help but let out a chuckle. He felt a little self-conscious now.
 “I'm sorry I just-” he started, but she cut him off, placing a finger over his lips.
 “Hush. How about you let me get changed and you can walk me home. Maybe even show me some more of your tricks?” She smirked
 He nodded, feeling a twitch in his dick at the thought of being inside her again. Feeling her around him again.
 She smiled, placing a soft kiss on his lips before pushing him back.
 He pulled his pants up quickly, grabbing her again and pulling her into a fierce kiss. She melted into him, her hands tangling in his hair.
 He pulled back after a moment, a smile creeping on his face.
 She smiled back before pushing him toward the door “Go before someone gets suspicious”
 He nodded again, making his way out the room and into the main room of the club and out the front, the smile not leaving his face the entire time.
39 notes · View notes
thepencilnerd · 5 years
Text
- 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐭 - 2
Tumblr media
➳ Part 1  || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4
➳ Pairing: Jaebum x Reader
➳ Summary: AU! After taking a gap year from college to pay for your tuition, you felt like your life was finally back on track- until you met him. What happens when life doesn’t go the way you intended it to? What happens when you find out that your anchor is just as broken as you are?
➳ Genre: AU, fluff, angst, friends to lovers
➳ Word Count: 2k
➳ Warnings: Swearing, awkward first encounters? 
♪ Winter Aid- The Wisp Sings 
a/n: Masterlist & links to other parts can be found @ my main URL
“That’ll be $4.65, please.” Swiping the credit card against the machine, I typed in an order for a caramel macchiato with an extra shot of espresso. 
Working at the on-campus coffee shop was probably the only good thing that had happened this year, and I only had my counselor to thank. 
The schedule for this semester was pretty simple. Working for 2 hours in the morning at the café had allowed me to fit afternoon classes into the day, which left me with half an hour for lunch and half an hour to tutor some classmates while eating lunch. Three times a week, I had evening classes that lasted until 10 at night, but the remaining two days of the week allowed me to have some free time to study and relax or tutor more classmates. 
It was exhausting, but it was better than the situation I was hurled into last year. With my parents unable to support or aid me financially, I decided it was best to take a year off to save up for tuition fees and re-evaluate my entire life. After saving enough money for a two semester’s worth of school, I had a talk with my counselor about what scholarships and certificates I was eligible to apply for. 
All I had to do semester was stay focused, steer clear of all distractions, and pray to the high heavens that the end-of-year exam scores would prove to the teachers and school board that I was eligible to receive a late scholarship. 
If last year had taught me anything, it was that life was a bitch to live. This year was going to be different. It was going to be. It had to be. 
Taking off my apron and throwing on a jacket, I quickly said goodbye to my co-workers before leaving for my philosophy class. I wondered if it was okay to miss today’s lecture since the TA was subbing and I was pretty good friends with him, but I realized that I didn’t have anything better to do and would be better off going. A month into the semester and I already felt too comfortable for my own good. Nothing had ever come easy in my life, so why did the universe all of a sudden decide to take a turn for the best? 
Shaking off the thought, I couldn’t help but admire at the outside weather. Closing my eyes, I took it all in; the smell of fresh petrichor on the concrete, the soft trickle of water droplets as they hit the shop’s patio cover, and the delicate fog that had enveloped and rolled over the entire campus grounds. Looking at the people walking around with umbrellas, my focus shifted to a red umbrella across the road. 
A couple dressed in matching beige coats and scarves were grasping the handle together, looking into each other’s eyes with an air of complete harmony. My smile quickly dissipated, however, realizing that a broken person like me might never feel anything or find anyone like other people. Almost as instantly as I had spotted the couple, the two walked off and reminded me that I was probably late for class. 
Throwing on my hood and shielding my eyes, I sprinted across the wet cement and felt like a maniac as I laughed heartily, enjoying the feeling of the cold air and rainwater on my face. Getting drenched in rain was probably one of my favorite childhood activities, and none of my friends really understood why I kept doing it even when I got sick. 
Once I got to the classroom, I was relieved that I made it on time and early enough to grab a good seat at the front. I couldn’t escape the few jokes that came from my friendly familiar classmates. 
“If you get me sick before midterms, I’m going to kill you,” one said in an overdramatic and ominous. 
“Did you lose your umbrella again?” another asked. 
“I’ll buy you a matching pair of boots and a raincoat for your birthday, Y/N!” one more cheered. 
Giving them the finger and smiling at the familiar playful banter I missed so much, I grinned, realizing that I was finally getting my old life back. 
“Maybe she left it at home with her report card from last semester.” 
The room went dead silent. I was on good terms with everyone and appreciated a good joke occasionally, but all of my classmates knew where the line was. This particular person, however, did not. 
Turning my head slowly towards the nasal voice that spoke, I squinted at a pip-squeak excuse of a girl who couldn’t possibly be bigger than a yard sale Christmas decoration. She was sat in the middle row of the room and went from intimidating cheerleader to quaking chihuahua as soon as my eyes caught hers. 
“What?” she stuttered, trying desperately to fake confidence in her tone. Newbie, my brain automatically identified. “You—you all know why she had to take time off last year. It’s not my fault everyone’s been spreading rumors about her tuition fees and parents—”
Before she could utter another word, I stomped over the staircase array of desks and placed my hands firmly onto the table in front of her, fists clenched and knuckles turning white. 
“You want to know why I took a gap-year?” I asked vacantly, not for the sake of getting an answer. “Because I couldn’t afford it.”
“Burberry and a Louis Vuitton?” I inquired, gesturing to the coat hung on her seat and bag under her chair. “I’m not exactly ‘well off’ like you. My family can barely make enough money to put food on the table, and yet you seem like you have more than enough to burn.” 
She quivered and gulped as she tried to pry her eyes away from mine. 
“We’re not in middle school anymore; let’s stop acting like it.” Lowering my head so that I was eye-to-eye with her, I stared at her head on before speaking. “I may not be rich, but at least I don’t look the way that I am on the inside.” 
Gathering my stuff, I quickly texted the TA and said that I had a family emergency come up. He replied telling me that he didn’t have a lecture planned and that I wouldn’t miss anything, so I responded with thanks and walked back outside. 
The rain had stopped, but it was still freezing cold. Against my better judgment, I decided to do what I always did when I needed to clear my head; go onto the roof. The rooftop of the main building was kind of my secret hideout. The few people who knew about it were some of the art majors who would come up very rarely to sketch and take pictures of the mini garden that grew there. Other than that, no one really ever went up there. The only downside was that the rooftop was accessible solely through the back stairs. 10 flights of stairs, may I add.
Huffing and puffing up to the door, I opened it to find the rooftop just as beautiful as ever. Flowers of all kinds lined the planter boxes and string lights hung from the side poles, mimicking the setting of a fancy restaurant. The lights never turned on though, and I couldn’t remember if I’d ever seen them lit at all. I tossed my bag onto the ground and found my usual spot near the roses. The wind was blowing just enough so that the scent of the freshly bloomed and still-damp flowers wafted towards me. 
Outlooking onto the campus below, I sighed. 
“Hey, mom and dad...” I spoke quietly as I stared into the gloomy but bright sky.
Looking down at a rose petal that had fallen onto the dirt, I picked up it up and stroked the colored fauna. “Are you guys having fun in the Bahamas? Australia? Cancun? Maybe Mexico?”
A gust of wind blew across my face that made me close my eyes, and it was immediately followed by a rustling noise that came from behind me. 
“Who’s there?” I asked, standing up. 
A familiarly shaped figure arose from behind one of the rose bushes. Stretching out his arms and letting out a yawn, the random field boy from the first day of school was now standing clearly in front of me. 
“Who are you?” I looked at his similar choice of simple attire, noticing his white shirt and pair of distressed jeans that coincidentally mirrored your outfit. 
“Good morning to you too,” he greeted while yawning again. 
The boy simply chuckled, his deep tone causing a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. “Im Jaebum. A pleasure to meet you.” Extending his hand, I shook it cautiously. 
“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N—” The second that I replied and his hand enveloped mine, he pulled me close into his chest. 
What the fuck is wrong with this dude
Observing his features up close, attractive would have been an understatement. His eyes were the darkest shade of brown I had ever seen, while his angular features gave him an edge that only animated characters possessed. To top it all off, I counted seven individual piercings that decorated his ears. 
I snapped back into reality when I noticed that I had been staring much longer than what was considered normal and shoved him abruptly off of me. He simply smirked. 
“You’re that girl who saw me on the field, right?” he asked softly, taking slow but deliberate steps back to me, trying to close the distance between us.
Of all the times I was able to compose myself and structure my sentences, my throat felt as dry as the Sahara Desert. 
“Yeah,” I somehow managed to reply. 
“You’re a lot taller than I originally thought you were...” he admitted quizzically, circling me and examining my physical features. I sat down forcefully, crossing my arms over my chest and scowling slightly at his perverse nature. 
I decided to take charge of the situation. “What are you doing up here?” 
Jaebum kept his distance and sat two-arms lengths away from me, likely sensing my discomfort. “I just like coming up here sometimes. It helps me clear my head.”
Although I admired his relatable and honest answer, I still held back. 
“Do you come up here often?” he asked this time. 
Nodding my head yes, I also told him about my rooftop therapy sessions. A slightly awkward silence began to grow between us. With neither of us willing to compromise and start the conversation up again, I stood up before Jaebum stopped me. 
“That was a night feat you had before class today.”
I turned my head towards him so quickly I almost pulled a neck muscle. “Oh. You saw that?” 
He laughed, flashing a perfect white smile. “I didn’t really realize it until that night on the football field, but we’re in pretty much all of each other’s classes.”
“Oh...” Thinking over it, I must have made an expression of confusion because Jaebum immediately began explaining. 
“I sit behind you during French 103? We worked on a project during the first semester of physics. I’m in the same major as you, so I hope you don’t think I’m a stalker or anything. I never see you, and you never see me. We’re both kind of invisible, right?” he admitted, fidgeting slightly with his hands in whenever he would try to think of sentences. 
“I guess you could say that...” I mumbled. 
“How about we be invisible together?” he asked while smirking and shooting me a wink. 
I scoffed. 
Oh. Of course, he had to be that kind of guy. 
“Uh, I hate to break it to you, but I don’t do—” I chuckled awkwardly while trying to think of the word. “—that.” He looked at me confused, wondering what message I was trying to convey when I outlined a circle with my hands. 
Time to come clean and do what you do best, Y/N.
“Partying and going to clubs with friends? Smoking so much that you feel like your lungs might collapse any second? Staying out until 4 in the morning and drinking so much that the hangover the next day makes you want to throw up, crawl into a hole and die?”
Jaebum was silent, eyes magnetized at my brutally honest tone. 
“I don’t deal with any of that, but above all of the stupid and dumb shit a college kid can do? I don’t do that,” I repeated, drawing the circle again. “I don’t do hook-ups. I don’t mess around with guys or let them mess around with me and waste my time. I don’t go out with anyone for the sake of just ‘having fun’ and most importantly, I don’t date. Sorry to get your hopes up.”
Getting up from my sitting position, I grabbed my back and turned to Jaebum once more, his widened eyes and appalled expression telling all. 
“I’ll see you around in class.” I waved him goodbye and smiled, jogging down the stairs before he could reply.
Don’t you dare think about his smile, Y/N
He’s not any different.
No stupid decisions.
No reckless choices.
No broken promises.
And absolutely no falling in love.
86 notes · View notes
Everything Has Changed (1/3)
Summary : You are Jace's little sister. You recently moved to the institute following your perfect record in Idris. Izzy is ecstatic to have you back, but Alec gives you the cold shoulder.
Warning : Possible inappropriate language
Pairing : Alec Lightwood x Reader
Word Count : 2,431
Tumblr media
“You don't have to baby me Jace!” You say slapping his hand away for the fourth time since he picked you up from Idris. “I can carry my own bags. I do not need my big brother to do everything for me.” Jace sighed as he considered taking it from you anyway. He only stopped himself when he caught you rolling your eyes at him. “Y/N, I am just trying to be nice.” Jace stepped in front of you cutting you off. Rolling your eyes a second time, “Come on! I haven't seen my little sister in ages and I just wanna look out for my little girl.”
His hand raised to your head as he ruffled up your once neat parting. Setting your whole look off balanced, and basically giving you the appearance of a girl who had been dragged through a thorn bush backwards. But even though Jace was doing everything that he could to annoy you, you knew that he came from a good place. You hate to admit it but you missed him too. Not only him but you also missed your best friend Isabelle. Izzy would come and visit you whenever she had to go to Idris to see her family. Giving you the low down on everything that had gone on from missions to just general gossip. You almost laughed when Izzy had told you that Jace was deadly jealous of Simon who so happened to be a vampire. All of this because of a girl called Clary. Jace had shown you a picture of her and you had to admit that you could see why he was smitten, she was absolutely gorgeous with a capital G. You actually felt sorry for Jace because you knew what it was like to have a crush on someone that you knew you could not have. “Well hello there stranger!” Within seconds of walking through the doors you found yourself crashing to the floor sending one of your bags that you were carrying to fall right onto Jace's foot. Izzy apologized as she stood up, helping you to your feet as she was at it. You smoothed down your already messy hair do and stared at her confused. “Do I know you?” Izzy's smile instantly faded. A look of pure horror crashed onto her face as she considered the thought of her best friend not remembering who she was. That was when you burst out laughing, causing the corners of Izzy's mouth to lift into a weak smile. “You are not allowed to do that. You had me worried!” She slapped your arm and slowly her smile increased to a full belly laugh. “I'm sorry Izzy you are just too easy. Come here!” Both of you hugged each other tight after being apart for so long. You scanned the rest of the room, spotting people that you could faintly remember as well as those that you considered family. There were some that you just couldn't put their face to a name, obviously new. But there was one person that you could see through the crowd, walking in the opposite direction, and fading into the distance. You could remember that dark wild hair anywhere. Alec. __
A week has passed and you had developed new relationships with the other Shadowhunters. Clary was an alright chick. Although you did find it hard to like her because of her behaviour with Jace. Jace had told you that things were odd between them. They were close but awkwardly close. She was still with Simon who is now a close friend of yours. Both of you spent a whole night talking about Star Wars and Lord of the Rings. Comparing theories and reciting scenes together. Simon was just the nerdy friend that you were lacking while you were away in Idris. Jace was always thankful that he was able to pry Clary away from Simon while he was distracted by you. He even joked about you and Simon becoming the new power couple because of how similar you both were. Every time he would say this you would smack him in the back of the head and tell him to get his mind out of the gutter. Just because he wanted to drive a wedge between the two, allowing him to swoop in and comfort Clary, doesn't mean he can exploit his sister.
Simon and you were talking in the training room after spending some time sparring. When Clary and you got closer, she asked you whether you would mind helping to train Simon, knowing that you were one of the best in the institute. But also aware that not many of the other Shadowhunters were willing enough to work with a Vampire. “So what is it with you and Jace?” you asked as you through him a bottle of water from the table. With his fast reflexes he was able to retrieve the bottle before it made an impact onto his head. “Nice.” “What do you mean Y/N?” His head tilted to the side the way that a dog would. You had to admit, it always made you smile when he did that and he knew. “Jace is Jace and I am just me.” You snorted a little at his response making him hold his hands up and change his answer, “fine, you got me. Very wise you are. No wonder we get along.” He scratched at the back of his head while searching for the right thing to say. “Well Clary and Jace have always been close and had that tension...” “Tension?” Your eyebrows furrowed. “Yeah sexual tension.” He stood up and approached you. You were leaning against the table that was at the far side of the room, watching him as he talked and advanced towards you. “So basically they want each other. But not as partners or friends, but more.” Using his fingers to air quote the word 'want.' Your hand lifted to the top of his arm as you looked deep into your friends hurt eyes. “Simon, if you know all of this. Why do you stay with Clary?” He moved away, turning his back to you as he brought a hand to his head. “It's not that simple Y/N.” He paused, “I love her. I have loved her since I was old enough to know what love is. Maybe even before that. So you see, I cant let Jace get in the way. If I want this to work, then I have to make it work.” Before you could stop yourself you pulled him into a hug. You weren't quite his height so your head was flat against his chest. After a few seconds, his chin rested on the top of your head, wrapping his own arms around you. You weren't the type of person who would show weakness like this. Where you would show that you cared as much as you did, especially when your line of work is as dangerous as it was. There were only a select few that you would allow yourself to be yourself around. To truly care about. It was hard for you to let new people in, but Simon would be an exception. You just couldn't stand seeing him this hurt. Especially because you knew far too well how it felt. Your hug as well as your thoughts were interrupted by a loud cough. Pulling away startled, you looked to your right and noticed Alec with his arms crossed staring at you disapprovingly. You had not seen Alec since the day you had got back. Even then all you saw was him look over his shoulder as he walked away, locking eyes with you for what felt like an eternity, but in actual fact it was a split second. “If you're done 'hugging.' Some of us need to train.” With that he moved over to start the simulator, bow at the ready. This was your queue to leave. __
Another week had passed since the training room drama. The person who said that time heals all wounds, was the most brain dead person on the planet. You couldn't help but feel like shit the past week. Thinking about how Alec and you had been so close for years. But the minute you were back he saw you as nothing more than the Downworlders that he used to despise. You had no one that you could talk to about this. Jace was his best friend, nothing good would come from telling your brother that his best friend was ignoring his sister. You knew Jace all too well. Hearing something like this would make him want to confront Alec, regardless of who overheard or got hurt in the meantime. Izzy was Izzy, she was all for the romance. But something told you that her innuendo and sexual nature would not stretch to her own brother. She was great to talk to about relationships, but probably not this particular one. You couldn't even consider telling Simon any of this. Not now that he has his own shit to deal with. Why wasn't life fucking simple.
You were sat in the large communal kitchen, stirring your spoon around in your already soggy cereal. You were never fond of cereal once it had gone past that 'too' wet point, slipping into the mushy. Your mind on other things, causing your cereal to become gross and putting you off eating it. For it to only become something for you to play with. “You know mum hated it when you did that!” Jace walked in, obviously meaning Maryse your adopted mother since your real parents perished. Having Maryse as your mother made things a hell of a lot harder for you. “What's on your mind little one? You only play with your food when your mind is somewhere else.” “It's nothing Jace.” You pick up your bowl, only to have it snatched back. “Jace!” “What?” He said with a mouthful of soggy cereal, “no point in letting good food go to waste.” You scoffed and walked out of the room, leaving Jace behind with the rest of your breakfast. Looking at the rota, you knew that in ten minutes it would be your slot in the training room. Running back to your room so that you could change from your pjs into your training gear. __
Half an hour later you were in the middle of training. Hair plastered to your sweaty face, unattractive and an inconvenience. There were not many people who could use a bow apart from you and Alec. When you were younger, you and Alec would practice together in the simulator. Having each others back. If it wasn't for him being closer to Jace, it is possible that you and him would have become parabati. Alec always laughed when you would miss the target. But not in a mean way to make you feel like shit. But in a way that would push you to try better, to work harder for his approval. While you were shooting the targets after your extensive sparring battle with the fight simulator. Your mind went back to the memories of you two..
** Alec was shooting at the archery targets that you had both set up in the training room. Each arrow flew and hit the target dead in the centre perfectly. He would laugh every time that he managed to land a perfect arrow on the target. While you fumbled trying to get the arrow to reach the board. “Another point for me! Any one would think you're distracted.” Your head fell to the floor to look at your toes. “Don't be stupid Alec! You're just not playing fair.” “How am I not playing fair?” He snapped turning around to look you dead in the eye. You were 14 at the time, Alec was 16. “Because you put me under too much pressure to be like you. I am not you.” You walked over to grab an arrow from the table. Lined up the target with your eye but hesitated. While you were trying to focus on the target, your were interrupted as you felt hands ever so gently placed on your waist holding you steady. “Y/N focus. You shake when you are trying to focus. Focus on not shaking more than hitting the target. Breath and let go.” His head was right next to your ear whispering to you. You could feel his warm breath on your neck. It was hard to focus when you knees felt that wobbly. You let out a sharp breath and the arrow flew landing right next to Alec's in the board.  You could feel him smile without having to look at him. “The student has become the master.” You spun around with a big grin on your face. His hands fell from your waist and held onto your hands. “I knew you could do it. But I cant stand behind you every time we are in battle mind.” You laughed and fell into his chest. “Thank you Alec. You make me a better me. I hope I always have you around to keep me safe.” “We will always stick together. You and me, that's the truth. Forever and always.” “Forever and always!” You repeated as you nuzzled into his chest. **
“Are you gonna shoot, or what?” It was Alec who shook you out of your daydream about Alec. You released the arrow and sure enough you missed the target. You hadn't missed that bad since you were younger. “I am gonna go with or what” Alec snickered and walked out of the room. “What is your problem Alec?” You yell. Your eyes were glued to the doorway where he was just stood. All of a sudden he reappeared, arms crossed in his usual stance. “I have no idea what you are on about. But clearly you have forgotten everything that I taught you.” “Shut it Alec.” You turned back to the target quickly and shot an arrow landing right in the centre of the board. “I know what I am doing.” He turned and tried to walk away for a second time, but you weren't done. “You have been avoiding me since I got back. Why?” “Just drop it. Things have changed,” he paused, “people have changed. So just drop it.” By the time he finished what he was saying he was back through the door. Leaving you alone, again.
Part 2
102 notes · View notes
mangled-dreams · 6 years
Text
Sins of the Mother: 10
Chapter 10: Disillusion
Previous: Collection, Agreement, Terms, Truths, Accidents, Goodbye, Grieving, Visions, Recovery,
Tumblr media
You don't like to admit it, but your dreams have been getting worse since you first cast your spell. It's not Trinity you dream about, that would make too much sense, you dream about someone else. Someone you can't really get a bead on. You talk in this person's voice, share their thoughts, and run through their life as if it were yours.
Its disconcerting to feel so disoriented when you wake up. It's only when you wake that you realize you'd been asleep. Each morning you wake up feeling more tired than when you'd gone to sleep. Fern, with all her inherited mothering nature, keeps asking if you're okay. You hate lying to her, but it's all you have at this point. She's not like Trinity, you can't lay everything down on her, you can't even give her a portion of what is going on in your day to day because she's too young.
Walking over to the sink you wash your hands of the chicken juice on them and work on cleaning the knife while Fern and Ollie finish their breakfast. “Chicken pasta tonight.” You tell them setting the knife on a fluffy white towel on the counter. Drying your hands you glance out the window of the kitchen and feel a cold chill run through you.
“Savannah...” You whisper staring into the eyes of your supposed dead ancestor. Freezing your breath catches in your throat. You feel trapped staring into her now blackened eyes. She looks demonic and it squeezes you with fear. If Savannah is a demon she'd be more powerful than she had as a human, you just know it instinctual.
If Savannah is really a demon and not a figment of your imagination, wouldn't Damien know? Wouldn't he just tell you that Savannah was alive? Why hide it? To what end would they need you for? A child? But wouldn't Savannah be perfect for that? Whatever the case, your hope that being with was the worst of it all has vanished.
“Sis? Sis?”
Shaking your head you glance to your right, Ollie stands next to you his gaze jumping from the window to you and back again.
“Sis, are you okay?” Ollie asks watching you shake away your thoughts.
Smiling a little uncertain about what just happen you nod your head. “I'm okay Ollie, why do you ask?”
Ollie looks a little uneasy at the question as if it should be self explanatory. “Who was that lady?” He asks. Your blood runs cold at his question, your smile falters. Ollie sounds like you feel, afraid.
“W—what?”
“The woman outside the window. The one with the long hair, who was she?”
You look back to the window. Savannah's gone. “I don't know, Ollie. She's gone now.” You respond in a hushed whisper. Trying to remain normal you hurry Ollie off to get dressed and take the twins to their music lessons. Your Aunt Allison will pick up the twins for a weekend at the estate. A few times a year there are little festivals held near the estate and all the children are invited to stay the weekend at the main house and have fun. Ollie and Fern have been looking forward to the event for the past month.
You don't want to ruin their weekend. Marking off their list of things needed you load them into your vehicle and take them to the private tutor's home. Your family's been using Vanessa Whitewater's services since you were a small child. She's nearly into her nineties but her mind is still very sharp and her lessons have never failed. Her knowledge is unparalleled and you will mourn her passing.
Kissing Ollie and Fern goodbye you tell them to mind the adults, not to cause trouble—especially Ollie, and to call if they'd like to come home early. Fern hugs you tightly as does Ollie and you feel a lingering twang of fear in him. Shooing Fern off you hold Ollie back.
“Oliver? What's wrong?” You ask not really needing to crouch down to look him in the eyes. He's grown so much this past year and it hurts.
Ollie looks away as if guilty about hiding something from you. You press him again. In one quick motion Oliver wraps his arms around you, hugging you tightly, as if you are his last lifeline.
Biting back the sadness at the truth of your own analogy you hug him just a tightly. “Oliver, you know you can talk to me.” You tell him.
“Y/n, that lady scared me. Fern didn't notice but you were just staring at her. She didn't look happy to see you.” Ollie tells you.
“How long?” You ask.
“I don't know. It was long enough to make me worried. Does... did that lady have to do with...” Ollie looks around as if an obvious secret agent looking for prying ears. “Does it have to do the demon?” Ollie asks hushed.
You want to smile at his antics in this moment, but the look in his eye is all serious and frightened. Instead you shake your head. “I don't know Ollie. I wish I did. The woman looked like someone I've seen in pictures, that's why I was staring but I didn't know if it was real or if I were still dreaming.”
“You've been talking in your sleep.” Ollie offers without question. “I've never heard you talk in your sleep before.” The look in Ollie's eyes turns your gut.
“Oliver, what have I been saying?” You ask knowing already he's been listening to you talk in your sleep.
He hesitates. Vanessa taps on the window with a stern expression of disapproval. You give her an apologetic smile but hold up a finger. She nods and disappears from the door. It must have been the grim look on your face or the plead in your eyes but thankfully she backs off.
“Oliver, please.”
Tears glisten on his lower lashes. “You say you wish we were never born, that you hate taking care of us. You... you say you want us dead.”
Your heart pauses in your chest and a cold sweeps through your veins. “No, no, Oliver I would never.” Your dreams pass by your eyes. Those aren't your words. “Oliver. Look at me, please.” Closing your eyes you realize your voice is harsh and quickly change it. “Ollie. I love you. I love Fern, and Trinity so very much. I wish our mother were still here to see how wonderful you two have become, but I do not regret the things I have given up to be there for you.” You reassure Ollie as best you can.
“You know I pride myself on being honest with you and Fern and expect it in return. I don't want you dead, I don't want to be alone, Ollie. I may hide how sad I am, but it's not because of you. We've lost so many important people to us, our mother, Trinity, and basically our father. You are all I have left to keep me even remotely happy. Seeing you and Fern grow to be amazing people is my life's goal.”
Ollie looks up at you with watery eyes. He knows you're telling him the truth, but the seed of doubt has already been planted in his mind. Closing your eyes you hang your head. You wish you could tell him everything, but Oliver is just a child. He'll be a teenage soon and that'll be a whole different world of turmoil and pain and uncertainty.
“I'm sorry if there was ever anything I did to make you think I'd be happier without you, Fern, or... or even Trinity. You're my baby brother, Ollie. I would never be happy without you.” You whisper hugging him again. “I love you, Oliver Joseph Scarlet. Come hell or high water, it changes nothing. If I lose you, if I lose Fern, even Dad... I will lose my world.” You whisper brushing a kiss to Ollie's forehead.
When you pull away Oliver reacts. His arms wrap around you again. Oliver holds you tightly. “I love you sis. I'm sorry if I hurt you.”
“Shh, after everything we've been through, it's good to look out for yourself, Ollie. Keep Fern close, just in case; okay? I don't know what that woman wanted, but I trust your judgment. I trust you to keep Fern safe.” You tell him brushing away his tears. Ollie seems to buck up a little at your confidence in him to protect his twin. “Don't hide things from Fern just to protect her, okay? If something is off and you have to run, it's better to have both of you in the know. Who heads can be better than one when you're in sync.” You add sternly. Ollie nods his head with just the same serious expression as you.
“Ms. Scarlet, time is wasting.” Vanessa warns you.
“Of course, I'm sorry Mrs. Whitewater. Oliver is coming in now.” You promise noting her slight change of expression at Oliver's red eyes. She nods her head and waits at the door for Oliver. Hugging Oliver again you ruffle his hair. “I'll see you Sunday night. Have fun, okay?”
Ollie gives you a look you know all to well. He is your brother after all. You laugh and shoo him into the old but well kept house. “Bye.”
When you get home you call an herbalist and a few others to gather supplies needed to put protection over your siblings. If Oliver saw Savannah that means she's not just a phantom from your memories. Thanking each person you speak to in kind you gather a special pouches you'd found specifically for each group of items.
Without Dark's urging you've delved deeper into the lore and teachings of the Book of Shadows. Slowly but surely the book is getting lighter and lighter, but that doesn't mean you've leaned anything of true value. It doesn't explain why you and Ollie saw Savannah. There are no clues as to what Savannah had been planning.
Turning from the freshly locked front door you nearly barrel into Dark. Catching yourself you pause on the edge of the small platform. “Damien, you startled me.” It's not a lie. You don't normally have just silent as death demons stand directly behind you.
“Not my intention, I promise. I came to discuss something of great importance with you.” Dark explains. You just know it has to do with Savannah.
“You'll have to walk and talk, so to speak. I have a few errands I have to do.” You tell him walking to your car and slide into the driver's seat. Dark appears in the passenger seat already buckled up. “What do you need to talk about?” You ask once you've set out on your drive into town.
“I was told you saw Savannah this morning.” Dark says, he's not asking you, he's telling you he knows.
“How'd you find that out?” You ask.
He ignores you. “Did she say anything to you?”
It's your turn to ignore his question. “Why don't you sound surprised to know she showed up at my house?” Flicking your turn signal you take a left when the road is clear and quickly pull into a small parking lot.
Dark simply studies you while you park your car and unbuckle your seat belt. He doesn't like the turning in his stomach, as there is a knife piercing his flesh and twisting it with painful slowness. The realization that Savanna may not be truly dead unsettles him. He had honestly believed Savannah had finally died when the summer cottage had burnt to nothing.
“I believed Savannah to be dead many centuries ago, to have her reappear now would mean she planned this in much greater detail than I thought her possible of.” Dark explains.
Pausing with your pouches in your hands you look to Dark. “Will she hurt my siblings?”
Dark looks away from you. “If it servers her purpose, yes.” His words hit you in the chest. “Damien, please, keep them safe. Fern, Oliver... my dad... losing them to old age and natural causes I can live with. I'd never be able to live and know they died because of me.”
Dark looks at you in question. “Why because of you?” If anyone is to blame he'd think you'd blame him.
“I've been having dreams lately. In my dreams I'm someone else but I don't realize it until I've awakened. Ollie says I've been talking in my sleep, saying horrible things that I would never utter even in my darkest of hours.” You don't have to say much more, your expression and tone say more than words could ever.
Dark doesn't respond immediately. He knows you must have said some awful things if you're sharing at the very least memories with Savannah. Even to her own children she was not kind. Dark catches the names on your pouches and knows instantly what you're doing. “You said you would need to hurry before the shops close, did you not?”
Dark's voice brings you back to why you're currently parked in a small strip mall not many people shop at on a daily basis. The L shaped strip mall is a collection of novelty, specialty, and collector's shops. The sun beats upon you from it's place in the mid afternoon when you finally step outside your car. Dark follows your actions. You feel a little bad that he came with you on such a hot day. His black suit, black shirt, black tie, and black shoes must be very hot and uncomfortable.
“Damien, do you want to wait in the car? It's pretty hot out and you must be... uncomfortable.”
Dark doesn't respond but the small smile on his lips feels genuine enough to make you blush. He nods for you to continue on and you do. Hugging your pouches to your breast you walk over to a small shop with flowers and foliage panted with neat hand on the window. In beautiful bold script is written THE SECRET GARDEN.
Pushing the door open a small bell jingles harmlessly above the door frame. No one greats you instantly but you're pretty much used to that at this point. AC hits you like a welcomed breeze. Looking around the small but well used space you smile to yourself.
Alexandra Pomper, or rather Alex owns the shop and has been in the same location for nearly thirteen years now. A very lovely woman, she practices Wicca and originally opened the shop others of the like but soon found a lot of her wears have many purposes and even the non practitioners would benefit and appreciate her store.
“This is a very cozy store.” Dark remarks looking at the various potions, spell elements, and various other items. You watch him pick up a candle and give it a quick smell. You can't help but giggle a little at the surprised face he gives the candle. He's made the decision to buy the candle.
Leaving the natural stone pendulums you walk over to Dark looking at the various candle names. Seeing Dark in such a normal setting its easier to fool yourself he's not a demon. Looking at the candle names again. “Uh, what is that candle called?” You ask noting the different names on the shelf Dark took the candle from.
Sinful Touches. Lustful Nights. Whispered Kisses.
Oh joy.
Dark simply smiles keeping the label from your preying eyes. He walks away leaving you to stare after him. Just what candle did he pick out and what kind of magic is attached to it?
“Oh, Y/n, I didn't realize it was you.” Alex appears from behind a black curtain. Her auburn hair falls down to her waist in loose beach curls. You've always been envious of her hair. Always perfect, never a hair out of order. Amber colored eyes watch Dark carefully as she sets a large box atop the counter.
“Hey Alex. I'm not in too much of a hurry so I didn't think to call out.” You tell her walking over to the counter. Curiosity bringing you closer to Alex and her box. “What cha got in there?”
Alex has to pull her attention away from Dark perusing her wears to respond. “A new shipment. I got an archaeologist friend down in Peru and he sent me so pretty awesome supplies. Dried rare flowers, some well preserved seedlings, among other things like amulets, blessed stones and jewelry by a few priestesses. I haven't received my whole shipment but I'm pretty happy with what I've gotten so far.” Alex explains pulling out a few things customs has approved of. You look at the items without touching just in case something could be ruined.
Alex's eyes follow Dark again. She can't put a finger on it but there is something other worldly about him. He gives her the creeps despite having just met him. “Who's the guy?”
You glance up at Alex then to Dark. “That's Dark.” Alex raises a brow at the name. You shrug in response. “Hey, I don't judge.” You tell her. To be honest you do judge, but not out loud or to others. There's a girl in Alex's group of witches that renamed herself Luna Moon.
You can't help but smile each time you think of her. Luna is a larger Caucasian woman with a round face and muddy blue eyes. She keeps changing her hair color on an almost weekly basis, but it's not her looks that make you laugh thinking about her; it's her choice of name and her attitude. She essentially named herself Moon Moon and it makes you think of the meme with the wolves and one that seems to always be the ass of the photo. Unfortunately Luna has the same kind of wacky personality and forgetful tendencies.
“Y/n, I don't mean to alarm you, but I don't think he's completely human.” Alex says looking at Dark again. You have to give Alex her credit. She's not a witch born from a bloodline, but rather one of her own making. You've found out a lot of people have hidden magic abilities but to what degree is kind of case by case. Alex had been the daughter of florists and was going to school for her degree in botany and botanical medicine, but found she could create potions and infuse magic into natural oils stones. It'd been by accident and the more she tried new things the more she found she enjoyed her work.
“I'm aware,” You tell her trying to ease her worries. You can see it does just a little. “But, aside from that, is my order ready? I have a few spells I need to complete before dark.” You explain knowing Alex would understand your need to have your items. She nods choosing not to say anything more about Dark and kneels down.
“From the items you chose I know it's a protection spell, is everything okay?” She asks lifting up a basket with dried and fresh herbs perfectly labeled with a few smaller baskets with stones in them. She picks a few herbs, both fresh and dried, and sets them aside. You place your herb pouch on the counter. Alex takes it and fills it gently.
You sigh. “I'm hoping. There's been some weird happenings around the house and I just want to take precautions. Thankfully the spell I'm using keeps us protected from just about any kind of harm. I have to go over to Jennifer's shop after this for a few other items.”
Alex nods her head. “If there is anything I can do, just let me know.” It's your turn to nod to her. She hands you back your bag and asks if there is anything else she was get for you when Dark walks up. The pair of you pause and look down at the candles Dark has picked out. Two are the same and the third is a different scent.
“Dark?” You ask looking up at him in question.
“Allow me to pay.” He says pulling a small bill fold from an inner pocket of his suit.
“Ah, s-sure....” Carefully Alex looks at each candle for a price sticker on the bottom, you can see a little bit of heat creep into her face as she looks the candles over. Curiosity gets the better of you and you pluck one of the duplicates from the counter and look at it.
Your eyes widen at the name. “Sinful Touches? Really?” You ask blushing. You can't believe he picked this candle up. Alex laughs sounding a little embarrassed by your exchange. She sets the candle in her hand down and looks up at Dark.
“There is another candle that pairs with this one. It's—ahem—it boosts the power of this one.” Alex says watching you pick up the candle she'd just put down.
Silently you read the name and just about choke on your own spit. Fertility Goddess. Leaning on the counter you cough into your hand. You can't believe Dark would dare to bring that to the counter with you as his obvious date for the time being. His large hand rubs comforting against your back, the warmth from his palm seeping into you.
Alex produces a bottled water from somewhere on her side and you take it, drinking it as slowly as you can to stop your coughing. Alex is still giggling by the time you can breath normally. You shoot her a glare daring her to make some kind of remark. She doesn't take the bait but does retrieve the pairing candle for Dark and—after he pays—bids you a good day and a very interesting evening.
You glare are her again but wave and tell her you'll call her if you need anything more. You ignore the candles despite being hyper aware of their position in you car. You don't bother asking Dark why he bought them. You don't want the answer.
19 notes · View notes