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yvaineseleneposts · 3 years

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The Troubadour

Requested: no

A/N: This has to be my longest piece ever! I hope it was worth the wait and that you enjoyed it. There could be a few mistakes in there both in English and Italian, sorry in advance. I loved writing this, it wasn’t exactly what I wanted but I am a perfectionist and I have rewritten this about 5 times. I just needed to post it now!

Pairing: OC!Diana Bianchi & Damiano David

Words: 3k

Warning(s): swearing, drinking, smoking (I mean it’s the 70s…), smoking weed, my Italian (I have been studying this beautiful language for three years now but people make mistakes)

West Hollywood, California // Mid-January 1972

Red eyes.

Sweaty foreheads.

That is all Diana would see when they screamed at her. “CAN I GET TWO BEERS AND A COKE PLEASE?!”

Working behind the bar was not her dream job. Diana remembered it like it was yesterday, she and her friend Tami had gone to The Troubadour to celebrate the weekend when she saw a “help wanted” poster. It was a godsend. Diana applied there and then and not long after she found herself behind the bar, handing out drinks to people who looked like they were having the best time of their lives. Another plus side was the fact that she could attend the concerts of all the artists and bands for free.

Obviously, there were also downsides to this job. For example, Diana couldn’t go out and live her teenage years. She isn’t allowed to drink (too much) on the job and the hours aren’t exactly great. The pay is okay though and the tips are even better. Half of the people don’t even know how much they are giving and walk off like they didn’t just hand you 20 for an eight dollar drink. She doesn’t complain much about her job but she does feel left behind sometimes. Like when Tami or her other friend chat about some weird adventure they had the night before and who they met or kissed. Diana felt like she missed out on a lot of things but she had no other choice.

Her parents had kicked her out when she was 15. Diana moved in with her grandmother and lived with her for a while until she passed away. She has been living alone in her grandmother’s old apartment ever since. A few friends had moved in with her but then moved out again when they had found a better place to live. So it was just Diana paying the rent for the place.

“CAN I GET A RUM AND COKE?!” Diana gets snapped out of her thoughts. Shit, what did he want?! She thinks to herself as she stares at the intoxicated man. “SORRY?!” She shouts back over the loud music. At least she had another reason for not hearing the man. “RUM AND COKE!” That is all the man yells before turning his band to her so he could face the stage. Some weird indie band is playing tonight. Diana wasn’t really into it and honestly couldn’t wait until her boss would send her home for the night. She puts in a little less rum, the man will probably not even taste the difference.

The band had stopped playing somewhere around two a.m. However not all the guests had left around 2.30 which is something Diana hated the most. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy her job but after so many hours standing on her feet, she wanted nothing more than to clean up, go home and get into her warm bed.

“Diana, can you come here for a minute?” her boss asked. What was that tone, was he going to fire her?! “It’s nothing bad, don’t worry.” Pfew. Diana walked behind him into his office.

“What can I help you with, Doug?” She asked as she sat down in the very comfortable chair across from him. Doug Weston had somewhat become her parent over the last few years that she had worked here. He was always so kind to her and could always ask him for help if she needed him.

“I want to get more bands from across the sea. I want interesting people and not just the same bands playing over and over again. New talent that no one has heard of before but will become known because of this place. Inspire new talent, you know?” He was rambling on with his sales pitch as if you had any input, it was his place after all. “And seeing that you can speak more languages than I have ever could, I was wondering if you could write small pieces for newspapers in Europe that will inspire these artists to come here and get all the fame and fortune they want.”

“Sure, Doug. You know I would do anything to help this place… and you of course”, Diana said while a wide grin spread on her face. She felt like she was moving up when in reality it wasn’t a new job position. She would do anything to not have the same indie bands playing almost every night. Diana would never have imagined that she would change the lives of four individuals barely six months later, and change her own life along with it.

Rome, Italy // Mid-March 1972

“The Troubadour. The place where artists and bands from all over the world can make it or break it in the United States. It all depends on the crowd. If they love you, you can come back for an entire week! If not you will receive the money for that evening but sadly you won’t be allowed back. It’s always packed with record executives so you could get a sweet record deal out of this experience. Do you have what it takes? Sign up and good luck to everyone competing in the battle of the bands! – D. B.” Damiano finishes reading. “Ragazzi, I honestly cannot wait till we get to play there! It’s going to be veramente stupendo!”

“Bene Damiano, calm yourself. It’s less than five months away. We still have to play in this dump to even afford to go. We barely have enough money for a motel, we don’t even have the plane tickets yet!” Classic Victoria, always worrying as if she is the mother of the group. “Calmati Victoria, noi staremo bene”, Ethan jumps in. “Let’s get back to practising before we start another fight, sì?” The rest nods their head and pick up their instruments. “I was thinking, should we start with I wanna be your slave oppuro no? Is it too much?” Damiano suggest. “Oh, and for outfits, I have a few ideas?!” Thomas adds like a little kid who is excited for Christmas day. “Positivo, let’s look at those after practice”, Damiano says. Not even ten minutes later they had many up a little setlist. It was a battle of the bands so they had to at least practice 4-5 songs to play against other bands. Then if they were allowed to come back they had to prepare yet another 6 songs on top of those 5 they had already played. They could do it, they had enough songs in their database but were they going to sing their Italian songs or did they have to translate them? The members of Måneskin weren’t sure yet. Luckily for them, they had four months to think about it.

West Hollywood, California // Mid-July 1972

Diana hadn’t even woken up yet, but on the other side of the city, Måneskin had arrived at the airport. “Finalmente ci siamo. Ce l’abbiamo fatta!” Thomas exclaims. Damiano chuckles and throws an arm around Thomas’s shoulders. “Slow down, loverboy. We have not made it yet. We landed yes, but we have a long way to go from here to that stage tonight.” “How every grown-up of you, Damiano”, Victoria teases. “I bet with Ethan that you would follow the first American girl that you saw in this airport and that we wouldn’t see you until much later.” “Ha ha, molto divertente, Victoria. Sei una persona così divertente.” They continue their bickering whilst Ethan collects all of their suitcases. “Addiamo?” He finally asks the group, they all agree and make their way through the busy airport to the designated taxi area. During this, they complain about how crowded it is and how much the air smells. It is nothing like their own country but you have to take chances if you want to become famous like their dream.

Later that day

Doug had told Diana to come into work later than she usually would. It was going to be a busy night and he’d rather have her work during the performances than during the day and wear her out. So here she was around six-thirty instead of two o’clock. It felt so weird because usually when she arrives there is no line out front and now there was one to the end of the block. She passed all the people waiting in line, hearing them complain and moan as she walks up to Mario, the bouncer. He doesn’t even need to see her worker-id, as she walks in he wishes her good luck with tonight. She liked Mario, he was working here before she came and even then he had told her if she ever needed anything him and his wife had an extra bed for her. Honestly, the sweetest guy… also the toughest guy you will ever meet.

As Diana walked to the changing area to hang her coat and bag, she ran into a few participants of tonight’s show. She greeted most of them but they were too busy with themselves, the fame they hadn’t even earned yet was already rising to their heads. Before she could make her way to the bar, Doug called her over.

“Diana, come here for a second. I want to introduce you to a few people.” Classic Doug, always introducing everybody to everybody. If he believed you could make it, he would introduce you to all his workers. However, the bands did not know this, the workers would treat them a little extra. “They are from Italy as well!” As if Diana herself had moved for their, it was actually her grandparents. She could speak a little Italian but other than her last name, there was nothing Italian about her. Doug briefly introduced the members of Måneskin to Diana, who couldn’t keep her eyes off a certain member. To be quite honest she had not remembered everyone’s names and she stumbled to get her name out of her mouth. All because she was already head over heels with this handsome, tall, young Italian man.

After a couple of introduction, Diana was finally behind her bar, her safe space. Meeting Damiano had made her weak in her knees, she had never had a reaction like this before. She didn’t really pay attention to the competitors and focused on serving the people but when it was Måneskin’s turn, she started to lose focus on her work.

During most of their setlist, Damiano kept glancing over to Diana and winking at her. Or at least that’s what it felt like for Diana. However, after a rather sexy song (let’s be real most of them are) he kissed one of his male bandmates on the mouth. Now Diana is not one to judge people on who they love. She reasons that everyone should love who they want to love and receive love because of it. It wasn’t that she hated it, it kind of turned her on, but she was very confused. Had she read the signs wrong? Were there even any signs to begin with? At times like these she wanted to ask Tami for help yet she was afraid that if Tami came and tried to help her that somehow Tami’s charm would work on Damiano and Diana would still end up with nothing. No, she had to do this on her own, she decided.

After the battle of the bands was over, a few stayed behind to talk with record labels about future arrangements. Diana started cleaning up, and washing and drying a few glasses, secretly listening in on a few conversations.

“I liked what I saw out there. Let your agent call me and we will discuss your expansion in the United States.” Well, that sounded very good. Diana turned around to see who the band was that this man was talking to, but when she turned around she looked right into Damiano’s eyes.

“I have been trying to get your attention all night”, he says shyly. “Really? I thought so but I wasn’t sure”, Diana responds. Damiano raises his hand and scratches behind his head. “I was wondering, you know. If maybe- ugh. Perchè è cosi difficile?” He mutters, not looking Diana in the eyes. “Provalo in Italiano?” she suggests and Damiano’s eyes shoot up to meet hers. “Cazzo. Parli Italiano?” He looks even more nervous now. “Si, parlo Italiano.” He laughs at her answer. “Vuoi uscire domani sera?” Diana nods her head, she honestly cannot stop smiling. “I’d love to go out with you. Do you want me to pick you up at the hotel? That would be easier than you trying to find my house.” “Yeah, sure. We’re staying at the Millwood Motel, it’s not too far from the airport.” “Ah yes, I know that place. I’ll see you tomorrow then.” He leans over and kisses her cheek before leaving her to finish her work.

That night Diana barely slept. Did Damiano know any places here to take her to? Did she have to come up with a place? What if he was some weird guy? What if he was a murderer?! She sure was happy now that she didn’t give him her address. The following day she woke up around noon. She went to the kitchen and grabbed her Cona coffee maker, if she was to get through the day, she was going to need a big cup of coffee. She put water and coffee ground on the lower half of the pot and put it on the stove. She hated having to watch the coffee boil and couldn’t wait for better times when you would just have to push a button to get your coffee.

Seeing that she woke up around noon, it didn’t take long before Diana met up with Damiano. She asked him if he had anything specific in mind. Surprisingly, he did. He explained that he and his bandmates did a little sightseeing and they walked past a roller skating rink. Damiano always wanted to try that and he thought this would be perfect for their little date. Diana absolutely loved the idea and couldn’t wait till they got there.

Both of them were sad that the night had ended so quickly or so they thought. It was in fact 1 a.m. and they had already spend ten hours together. Diana brought Damiano back to the motel with her car and of course he couldn’t leave without planting a kiss on her lips. They kissed for a while before finally letting each other go. “We’ll be leaving soon”, Damiano said and looked at their intertwined hands in his lap. “Already? You just got here two days ago”, Diana complained. She just met him and now he is leaving already? She wasn’t prepared for that. She knew he was leaving at some point, he had to he didn’t live in the US, but still she had hoped for a little more time together. “Maybe we’ll come back soon. We have a meeting with our agent and that record label guy tomorrow.” “Could we meet up after? We should catch dinner together, I have another day off”, she suggested. Damiano agreed, kissed her one more time before leaving her car and making his way to his motel room.

The next day

Diana waited for Damiano in front of a large building. She was enjoying the sun on her face when she felt two arms coming from behind and hugging her on her stomach. “Ciao, amore mio. Sei adorabile oggi”, Damiano said into her ear before kissing the side of her face. “Ciao, you don’t look to bad yourself”, she said as she turned around. She grabbed his face in her hands and kissed him on his lips, his mates cheering them on in the background. “How did it go in there?” With that question Damiano’s face broke out in a wide grin. “What?” “Amore, we’re staying here in the US. We got a record deal, we will be here for the entire year!” he shouts and all five of them jump in celebration. “I was going to tell you at dinner, but I just couldn’t wait anymore. We can be together, amore.” Diana broke out in tears, nodding her head, for she had never met a man who she loved more than Damiano. Her Italian lover boy.

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goneseriesanalysis · 3 years

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Astrid Ellison

So here are my opinions on Astrid Ellison from book 1. Astrid was the character on which my opinion changed the most, which is why it’s taken me so long to get my thoughts together. Sorry for the length again but it seems I have a talent for ✨rambling✨

Spoilers for Gone by Michael Grant down below

Original Opinion: Astrid was one of my least favourite characters. I remember finding her irritating and self-righteous and honestly couldn’t think of a single good thing to say about her.

New Opinion: Astrid was my favourite character in this book. She had moments where I found her slightly irritating - but I think that was Michael struggling to right a smart character more than anything else. She was so kind and brave and not at all like the emotionless and manipulative girl that I remember hating at the grand age of 14.

1.) Astrid’s appearance - Astrid is one of the better described characters in Gone. In the first chapter we find out that she “had shoulder-length blonde hair, and liked to wear starched white short-sleeved blouses that never failed to catch Sam’s eye.” This description immediately establishes her as Sam’s love interest, from her being the first character to get a proper description to Sam’s clear infatuation with her. This is perhaps one of the reasons why I’m not a huge fan of their relationship – it was obvious from page 3 that they were going to end up together. We get three other main descriptions of Astrid throughout the book that really stood out to me:

“Her normally sharp, discerning blue eyes were wide, with way too much white showing” – Chapter 1

“She sat in the big white wicker rocker with her feet propped up on the railing. Her bare legs were blazing white in the sunshine.” – Chapter 20

“The starched white blouses of the pre-FAYZ had given way to t-shirts” – Chapter 28

What really stood out to me in these descriptions is the repeated use of the colour white. Now, in religion white is symbolic of faith, innocence and sacrifice, all of which really seem to fit the characterisation of Astrid. She has a lot of faith in the beginning, not only in God but also in herself. She is relatively confident in who she is and in her place in the world. As the book continues, however, she begins to lose this faith. As she sacrifices more of her time to the care of Little Pete (I really don’t like how Michael constantly treated him as a burden but that is a topic for another post), she becomes less and less confident in her faith and begins to resent what she has become.

As for Astrid’s innocence, I believe this is more of an insight into how Sam views her as opposed to how she actually is. Astrid is intelligent and brave and caring (although a lot of the time I think she struggles to show it) – but is she innocent?? I don’t think so, at least not in the traditional sense. She has grown up as a parent, been forced to mature faster than other children her age. She is Little Pete’s constant defender, and I think in this way Sam underestimates her. As the book continues, he begins to see this, with her staple white blouses transforming into t-shirts, he begins to see her for who she is.

2.) Astrid’s Personality and Character - Aside from Astrid’s intelligence and religious beliefs, Astrid has a very well-rounded personality. She is brave and kind-hearted but seems somewhat socially inept, meaning that the softer side of her personality is often hidden by her cool exterior. (I think there is a possibility that Astrid is autistic-coded but I don’t know enough about the topic to develop this point past mere observation). She takes on the role of a mother to Little Pete and this calmer, kinder, and more protective side of Astrid is often shown in small moments throughout the books. Astrid is the first person to offer comfort to Quinn when he realises his parents are missing, and it is only once she does this that Quinn finally allows himself to fall apart (Chapter 2). She places a hand on his shoulder and for the first night is the one who hears out Quinn’s wild theories, instead of shooting them down (cough cough Sam).

Her relationship with Little Pete is a complicated one. While she often seems resentful about her new position as a guardian, it feels like her resentment towards Little Pete is a way for her to mask her anger at things that are beyond her control. She is furious that the FAYZ has left her without parents, and is even more furious because she can’t truly understand why it has happened. So, to stop these feelings of helplessness, she targets her resentment towards the person she is closest do (as most of us unfortunately do when we feel this way). But despite her anger, her unconditional love always wins out. And this is one of the things I absolutely adored about her when re-reading. Despite her often feeling trapped by her new role in Little Pete’s life, she is still willing to distance herself from Sam, Edilio and Quinn (who are, as far as we know, the closest thing she has to friends) in order to keep him safe. She realises that Little Pete caused the FAYZ in chapter 11 and, even when Sam confronts her, her first move is to defend LP – she is not concerned with what they think of her, only with the safety of her brother.

Further on in the book, after Drake forces her to call Little Pete a slur, she is horrified with herself. She gives almost no thought to the pain she went through stating that “now she was far more angry at herself than she had ever been at him.” I think this really just shows how devoted Astrid is to her brother and, when you remember that she is only 14 it really is amazing how strong she forces herself to be for him. I began to notice on this read through just how much she neglects her own emotions and wellbeing in favour of protecting others (she even shields LP with her own body when the church collapses on top of them and we get no indication as to how injured SHE is). Once again her thoughts are only on her brother. While I wish she had made more of an effort to communicate with Little Pete in a way that he could understand (the few times she does this in the book, he does respond well and it would have been interesting to develop this side of their relationship more, rather than just the one sided protector/protected dynamic), when you think about her age and the trauma that she must be experiencing, I think she does exceptionally well to stay so kind, patient and collected for the majority of the time.

One thing that really surprised me the most when revisiting Astrid’s character was her immense bravery. This is a huge part of her character that I had completely forgotten about, leading me to remember her as little more than a typical damsel in distress. While she often uses her intelligence as a defence mechanism, such as in Chapter 15 when she stands up to Diana, in times when a verbal smack down is inappropriate, she is perfectly willing to put herself in danger in order to protect those that she cares about. We first see this in chapter 10 when she breaks up the fight on the highway. We see it again when Panda and Quinn attack Little Pete, with one of my favourite quotes of the whole book, “Did you throw a rock at my brother?’ Astrid yelled. Fearless in her outrage.” It reminds me so much of the Frankenstein quote “I am fearless and therefore powerful” and was the point in the book where my past prejudices got completely wiped away and were replaced by my new love for her. She cares so much about people, and gets hardly any recognition for it. I just want to give her a hug 😥

Another thing I noticed about Astrid, which I thinks fit’s in really well with the idea of her being this awkward social outcast (I mean did she even have any friends before??) is that while many pop culture references are made by a variety of characters, Astrid makes multiple references to historical figures:

“Patrick was named for Patrick Star, the not-very-bright character on Spongebob” – Lana’s pov Chapter 2

“It’s like a roadrunner cartoon” – Quinn Chapter 9

“I’ll bet you’re one of those brainy Lisa Simpson types” – Diana Chapter 14

“Let me guess, you’re secretly a wizard who was raised by muggles.” – Sam Chapter 21

“And this isn’t exactly the time for me to consult Yoda on how to use my power” – Sam Chapter 26

“..an ornate, heavy iron thing that Coates kids joked was the tenth Nazgul” – Jack’s pov Chapter 32

“Too bad Dr Phil’s not around.” – Diana 39

“The only thing we have to fear is fear itself” – Astrid Chapter 5

“To understand this you’d have to be Einstein or Heisenburg or Feynman, on that level” – Astrid Chapter 13

“Power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely. I forgot who said it.” – Astrid Chapter 17

I don’t have much else to say about this other than I find it quite interesting and I think it perfectly highlights how Astrid never quite fits in, no matter how hard she tries.

3.) Astrid’s Intelligence - Astrid’s intelligence is mainly used for world building throughout the first book. It is from Astrid that we learn the full story of the power plant incident, learn that the barrier is a dome and are introduced to the idea of animal mutations, as well as many theories about the outside world/ what caused the FAYZ (although those last theories are a misdirection on her part). This works well for the most part as it means that important information can be spaced evenly throughout the book, without the need for info-dumps. However, sometimes Michael’s attempts to showcase Astrid’s intelligence were, I think, a little on the nose and took me out of the story. The worst offender for this, in my opinion, is in chapter 2 with the line “Is that meant to be a pro forma reassurance or a specific commitment?” This is a really nit-picky complaint but this line just really bugged me as it seemed like he was making her smart for the sake of being smart and it kind of came off as annoying. I know one of her character flaws is her social awkwardness but this just felt too much. I love the way she over-explains and over-analyses things when she’s nervous, and I think her constant referencing to things that the other characters just don’t understand perfectly demonstrate this flaw, but lines like this seemed a little irritating and obnoxious.

The secondary use for Astrid’s intelligence in this book is as her primary line of defence. Her intellect is something that she prides herself on, but it is also something that separates her from everyone else. People are intimidated by her, and, as a result, she has learned to use her intelligence as a weapon when necessary. This is clearly seen in chapter 14, when Diana tries to intimidate her and Astrid immediately starts asking Diana questions about the cause of the FAYZ (questions that she knows Diana has no answer to). It’s later seen in chapter 22. When Drake begins to bully Astrid into calling LP a slur, she fights back by explaining that said slur is outdated; explaining the meaning of it; and then explaining how it does not fit LP anyway. While she knows that she cannot use her physical strength, her intellect is something that she can weaponise in certain situations in order to protect herself and those she loves. Her proficiency in this tactic also leads me to believe that Astrid has probably been in similar situations before. Everyone in Perdido Beach seems to know about LP. Is that why she has no friends?? Has she distanced herself from her peers in order to protect LP from their ignorance, whether consciously or not??

4.) Astrid and Religion - I don’t have as much to say about this, as I’m not religious myself and have very little understanding of Christianity (Or Catholicism – I’m actually not sure which Astrid is meant to be so if anyone knows I would appreciate it), but I feel like this is a such a huge part of who Astrid is that I had to at least mention it. One thing that I do like is Astrid’s seemingly constant battle between her scientific beliefs and her religious beliefs. While she does believe in God, she won’t accept him as an explanation for the FAYZ, and still looks for a scientific answer. Her relationship with religion seems to act as more of a moral guideline rather than a fundamental belief system. She looks to God for guidance and support in times of trouble, such as at Bette’s funeral (Chapter 17), as she is being chased by Drake (Chapter 24) and when the church is collapsed on top of her (Chapter 45) and seems to be convinced that her morality is directly tied to her faith. However, she relies on facts (things she can explain and control) for true comfort, and doesn’t allow her faith to interfere with her action. I think these ideas are perfectly encompassed by this quote from Chapter 40 “No. I believe in free will. I think we make our own decisions and carry out our own actions. And our actions have consequences. The world is what we make it. But I think sometimes we can ask God to help us and He will.” – And I am quite excited to see how her faith/ loss of faith changes her perceptions in the later books.

5.) Astrid’s Role in The Book - For the most part, Astrid has three main roles in this book:

- To act as LP’s protector

-To act as a source of plot-relevant and world building information to the reader

-To be Sam’s main motivation is becoming the leader

And this, in my opinion, is a phenomenal waste. Astrid was the perfect candidate for the leader of the FAYZ, and giving the role to Sam made no sense?? I think what Michael was trying to do was suggest that Sam had to be the leader instead of Astrid because, while Astrid is the intelligent one who knows how to work people, Sam is the one who people look to when things go wrong. (Think of Katniss and Peeta’s dynamic in The Hunger Games). But, it just doesn’t work. For one, we know that what the people of Perdido Beach think has very little effect on leadership. There was no uproar when Caine took over. Were people scared and upset?? Yes. Did they run to Sam’s aid and rebel against Caine?? No. So why should it matter whether they prefer Sam to Astrid – Sam could still be the hero without being the leader. In fact, I think it would have made both characters so much better if this was the case. Also we know that in times of crisis, people DO look to Astrid. Albert’s cat anyone?? Furthermore, Astrid’s ability to use her intellect to play on people’s emotions is a much better match for Caine’s easy charm than Sam with his flame throwers. I mean please. Astrid has a cool and intimidating exterior that actually hides a well of deep emotions that she can pull from and use to manipulate people into doing things they never thought they were capable of (we mostly see this work with Sam in this book during the fire, chapter 4, and the first time he controls his powers, chapter 28). Caine has an easy going and charming exterior that hides his lack of empathy, allowing him to use people for his own gain as he sees them as expendable. They are such PERFECTLY MATCHED OPPOSITES. But no. Michael wanted the leader to be Sam because?? Fire?? Ugh. Even when the question of who will take over if Sam poofs comes up in chapter 40, NOBODY EVEN MENTIONS HER. Astrid suggests that Edilio takes over and that’s that. (With that being said I do find it interesting that Astrid basically chose both the leader AND the backup leader but still. Let her live up to her full potential Michael.)

I think I’ve pretty much covered the first two bullet points in other sections but I’ll just quickly mention her part in Sam becoming the leader. It’s very clear from the fire onwards that Sam being in charge is Astrid’s main goal. Is this so that Sam can protect her?? Maybe. Idk. But it kind of frustrates me that she is broken down into Sam’s love interest towards the end, rather than coming into her own role. We are constantly shown that she is the main reason that Sam is becoming the leader, and this is even explicitly stated when Sam tells his mother/the gaiphage that he has “someone I have to stay here for” – chapter 46. I think the book should have ended with Astrid taking on her own role (as the leader obvs but I would have settled for something smaller or, you know, ANYTHING), instead of her just becoming Caine’s human shield. I do have more to say on this topic but I feel like it falls more into the relationship category so I’ll leave that for a later post.

And I’m not even going to talk about her powers past saying: what was the reason?? As far as I can gather Michael wanted a reason for Astrid being so insistent about Sam taking on the role of leader and so gave her a weird power and then decided hmm no.

Thank you so much for reading and I would love to hear all of your thoughts on Astrid. I think I’m going to do Caine next but who knows.

#the gone series #astrid ellison #Gone

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pluviophile-bookworm · 4 years

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AWAE 3x1 rewatch: thoughts and reactions

So we’re finally here, up to the (unfortunately) final season of AWAE. I will be rewatching and reacting to the first half of the season only, since I’ve already posted my reactions to episodes 5-10 when they were coming out. Just thought I’d say that here.

For this rewatch, I will be adding onto the notes to myself I made when first watching the episode. Also, this is dedicated to Amybeth McNulty for her birthday today.

So, without further ado, I suggest we dive right in.

Can we talk about how Anne’s beautiful green ribbon gets untied and flies into the air while she is riding through the snow and she doesn’t even seem to care? I mean, she looks back and smiles at it, but doesn’t even think of trying to retrieve it… If I were her, I would have turned the horse around. Although it did seem like the ribbon was too high up in the air for her to reach. Also, her hair is beautiful flying loose in the wind… like we’ve never seen it before. [Present-day note: of course we’ll see it like that again, and from Gilbert’s point of view. That scene was magical. Truly magical]

So… Ruby still has it for Gilbert… and she has it going on strong… she’s supposed to be covering the hockey game for the school newspaper, but she’s dropped her notebook in the snow [Present-day note: again, my dislike of ruining material objects speaks here, but - I felt really bad for that notebook. It’s done nothing to deserve being ruined by the snow] because she only has eyes for one of the players… and so does Anne. I really hope the budding love between her and Gil doesn’t shatter poor little peach Ruby’s heart. [Present-day note: I’m so beyond happy she got over him before Anne realised that she was, as they would say on Friends, ‘under’ him.] She’s a dearie and deserves the best.

The hockey field (probably nothing more than a frozen lake, but this is the 19th century, so, you know) has apparently turned into a place of courtship, as Billy is giving his attentions to Josie and Moody to Diana… but her parents won’t allow it. “Too rich to be a minister’s wife?”, Josie teases. But then the attention shifts to Gilbert who stares at something undefined between Anne and Ruby, leaving it ambiguous which girl his affections are directed to. The whole thing is very awkward to watch, and with no Cole around to reassure Anne that Gilbert has a crush on her, and her only, she may as well think he’s finally returning Ruby’s sympathies. That scene is intense.

The natives appear – a man and a little girl, presumably his daughter, the girl that was mentioned in the articles promoting this season. It turns out the man is the one who makes the hockey sticks for the boys, and the difference in nature between Gilbert and Billy is once again emphasised by how they each treat him. Billy is superficially polite, saying “Thank you” when receiving his new stick, but he says it in a sort of patronising way, like the subtext here is “We whites are better than you”. Gilbert, on the other hand, is just as polite and respectful as he would be to any white man – or woman, for that matter. I mean, he lives with a black couple, so he can’t be racist at all. I mean, he’s an absolute cinnamon roll.

Anne is even better with the natives, as in, she doesn’t even notice anything about them that would make them superficially different than her and her peers. She asks if she could write an article about the man, but not about his lifestyle or different standards, but about the sticks he makes. She sees the quality work, not that the man doing it is non-white. And I bet she’ll be learning a lot about their life and culture later on, in a perfectly respectful and inclusive way. This is beautiful.

Billy comes back and is all kinds of disrespectful, so the girl, Ka’kwet, shows her dislike of him very clearly, and her father warns her against “stir[ring] trouble with the white man”… the tension can’t be ignored anymore. It can practically be cut with a knife.

The man offers a great judgement of Billy – “The little man with the big ego” – in his own native language, so only Ka’kwet understands. But he couldn’t be more right.

Billy walks away, muttering “Savages” under his breath. Anne, however, isn’t shaken for a millisecond in her wish to visit and interview them later.

So, Billy won’t even be coming back to school, as he’s stepping into the family business. I’m hoping we won’t see much of him anymore. [Present-day note: Unfortunately, we will. And when I say unfortunately, I mean devastatingly. Before this season, I didn’t think this excuse of a guy could get any worse, but in the latter half he’s proven to be an absolute entitled monster. I loathe him, and I’m not even sorry for allowing myself to feel such negative emotions.]

Jane is “chaperoning” Josie and Billy as they walk back from the game? I mean, yes, she is his sister, but she’s younger than him, I think. But well, I’m not sure how chaperoning works in such a situation.

Anne arrives at the natives’… village? What is it, exactly? Anyway, her new budding friendship with Ka’kwet (which, the poor thing says, just means “starfish”; now she and Anne can bond over wishing they had a different name – although Anne isn’t as resentful of hers anymore, now that she’s signed the family bible as “Anne Cordelia Shirley- Cuthbert) is just so beautiful… this show is pure aesthetic. [Both visually and in terms of content.]

Marilla disapproves of Anne’s having fraternised with the natives… the tension builds up. I guess Anne won’t be stopped from seeing her new friends so easily, though.

At the Pye household, Josie’s mother is pressuring her to “get a hold” of Billy before someone else does. I mean, she’s a Pye – an unpleasant person as per the book, so she deserves him. Let her have him, as long as Gilbert is reserved for Anne and Anne alone. [Yeah, in retrospect, not even Josie deserves this imbecile. But I didn’t know back then just how bad he could be.]

So Anne’s words “seems to me I was destined to be the bride of adventure” from the teaser are part of her evening prayer – a change from the (apparently) usual plea to make her good-looking, which she now, on the brink of age 16, sees as a childish wish and not a real prayer. Anne has grown!

“Many suitors or even just one…” Come on, Anne, are you blind? You have one – The One at that. Take Notice of him… I mean, the Take Notice board will be returning as per a gif set I saw here on Tumblr, so I really hope Shirbert moves on a bit quicker than it has so far.

Bash and Mary have a baby! Since when? I don’t know, but I love it. Is Gilbert the godfather? Seeing as he is Bash’s best friend and honorary brother, he must be… oh dreams…. [Either way, he’s her Uncle Gilby]

Her name is Delphine? That’s beautiful. Also, Gilbert just kissed her forehead before going out to school… the dream has come true.

The unlikely duo of Rachel Lynde and Miss Stacy takes centre stage in the next scene where Miss Stacy says she doesn’t need a man as she has discovered self-sufficiency after her husband’s death. Mrs. Lynde, of course, wants to play matchmaker for her. As I said, this is an unlikely duo and I would very much like to know how this relationship turns out further.

Anne and Diana are dreading the nearing day of their separation as Di goes to finishing school in Paris and Anne goes to college in Queens. I really want to know how this separation will turn out. [Fortunately, I won’t have to find out, and neither will they.]

Another line of tension builds up with the resurrection of the Take Notice board, as the girls discuss the pressure to get married soon and Josie teases Anne about becoming an old maid, as seen in the trailer.

Poor Ruby takes the blow instead of Anne as she, who will apparently be going to Queens with Anne and Gilbert – only in order to remain close to him (poor unfortunate soul), is desperate to receive any advance from him. I really don’t want her to suffer, but here she is now, crying about him not noticing her. I almost want her to not end up going to Queens, as that will most probably be the place where Shirbert’s relationship will finally bloom, and I don’t want her to witness that. [AWAE Ruby would have loved to be Book!Ruby, as she gets much more attention from him there - but she doesn’t care as much. However, seeing as how Book!Ruby ends up, AWAE Ruby should be glad she’s not quite her.]

Anne “bet[s she] can help” Ruby’s Gilbert issue – but if she is the root of the problem and she doesn’t know it, how can she possibly be of any use to poor Ruby?

I’ve never seen Anne ignore someone so hard as she just did Moody – he greeted her and she barely turned her head in his direction, muttering a quick “Hi” before returning to her conversation with the girls… good thing he is not one of her suitors. Although she doesn’t pay much more attention to Gilbert, you know.

I see Moody has grown up a lot since last time he was seen, and he’s now a close second to Gilbert, at least the way I see it. That’s quite a glow up he’s had. But I kinda wanted Diana and Jerry to be a thing – and now I’m low-key shipping her with Moody “your dress is very… blue” Spurgeon. The poor guy has always been awkward around her; it’s obvious he likes her. [See, I told you I only ship couples that have explicit signs of potential to happen. Even though Diana and Moody didn’t happen even for a second, I’ve apparently seen something in her and Jerry stemming from that one single conversation they had. I mean, he did call her ‘the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen’, so that must have been what made me ship them - even before I had the slightest idea they were going to be a thing this season. I still can’t get over the fact that they were not endgame. In my mind, at least, they are - somewhere in that future we didn’t get to see.]

And now the super famous “take notice” scene between Anne and Gilbert is happening… oh the tension. [You know, this scene reminds me of Vanessa Hudgens’ Rather Be with You. If you haven’t heard that song, go listen to it and then try to tell me I’m wrong here.]

Anne was apparently talking about Ruby in this scene, and Gilbert was blabbing on about “the right person” and stuff… Shirbert is on!!

Well, that was a turn of events! The second Anne mentions Ruby you can actually see Gilbert’s emotions change. Kudos to Lucas for portraying that only with his eyes. How to those kids do that?

And poor Ruby has been observing him during the conversation, of course… she is so deluded, the unfortunate thing – she thinks his reluctance to post means he’s looking for a much more romantic advance to make… Poor thing. Shirbert will break her heart and might just ruin her friendship with Anne forever… and she dies young in canon. I just hope Moira finds a way to give her the happy ending she deserves… [And, as we know, Moira didn’t disappoint there. I’m so glad things turned out for Ruby the way they did]

Jerry can read long complicated texts now… he’s reading Frankenstein [Little did I know how important this book would be for his story arc this season], for goodness’ sake! I stan one (1) beautiful [inside and out] French farm boy!! And I ship him with Diana even more now. Although if her parents won’t allow her a future minister, how will they allow a farm boy?

Diana has actual royal ancestry… but that ancestry is “keeping [her] from Queens; from [Anne]”. Isn’t this a tragical Bro-mance right there? It is indeed.

Marilla is helping Mary with the baby… makes me wonder if she has been dreaming of one for so long but never got to have it and this is why she’s so attached to this one… this series is beautiful but dramatic… it really tugs on my heartstrings.

Diana stands up for herself and her own wishes in front of her parents… but she doesn’t achieve more than angering them that way… poor little rich girl, indeed.

Also, I just love how the Barrys express their anger. Diana sits at the piano and starts playing angrily, while her mother embroiders angrily and her father reads his newspaper angrily. [I had no idea two out of those three things could be done angrily. I’ll leave it to you to figure out which two.]

The Take Notice board has a note on it saying “Susan has her sight on Moody Spurgeon”. Who is this Susan and why is she eyeing Moody if he’s courting Diana?

Anne is super excited about turning 16… “Once upon a time this was the happiest day of my parents’ life”. I really want her to find out about her ancestry eventually. But I want her and Gilbert to finally get together more. [Of course, both of these will happen in this season. I sort of knew that even back then.]

Let’s sum up: Anne has beautiful hair, but, more importantly, dreams of finding out her family history; Ruby has it bad for Gilbert - but we already knew that; Ka’kwet and her father make their first appearance and create tension in the process; Billy is racist on top of everything - but we all expected that; courting is in full swing; Rachel Lynde plays matchmaker; lots of tension caused by the Take Notice board; eye (and eyebrow) acting; Jerry reads Frankenstein; Marilla is a really good mother, and not only to Anne; who’d have known embroidery and reading could be done angrily; who is Susan; Anne is nearing 16 and things are about to change forever.

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gayoperatorgunclub · 4 years

Note

For the ultimate ship meme, Lion and Doc? I'm sorry, I'm LionDoc trash-

it’s all good!! whenever someone sends in an ask, i get an excuse to talk/write about one of my interests! really, it makes me so happy to be able to create content that people hopefully enjoy!! 💝💝💝

General:

How long will they last? - until the end of time, babey

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - it was love at first sight but then they started talking i do think it was some form of ~interest~ in one another at first sight, but then all that drama and lack of communication happened so they didn’t really allow themselves to even dream about the possibility of a relationship. HOWEVER! once lion joined rainbow and they talked their shit out like people who know how to cope, there was a period of a few months that is now referred to as The Four Months of Pining™, during which glaz did a lot of paintings where the subject (who usually bears an uncanny resemblance to doc or lion) is staring at something (or someone) longingly. he calls it his french period. when they finally get together, a LOT of money changes hands. and goes straight into sledge’s pocket (he was the only one who bet that it would take them this long). diana gets a brand new collar (handmade), bed (handmade), dish (handmade), and many new toys (some handmade, some store-bought. sledge’s craftsmanship can only get him so far)

How was their first kiss? - you know how the french are supposed to be super suave and confident??? and how gay people are trying their hardest but they’re just Not Good at things????? (i know these are stereotypes but stay with me). well, with their 5/8 french blood (i hc one of doc’s parents is fully algerian while the other is half french, half algerian), and their 4/4 gay blood, they have an 81.25% chance of success in matters of the heart. sadly, that 18.75% chance of failure came into play during this situation. picture it. doc and lion. romantic, home-cooked dinner. le festin is playing in the background. they’re holding hands over the table. suddenly, doc’s cat goes into labour. all hell breaks loose. lion is getting flashbacks to his son’s birth, so now he’s hyperventilating. doc carries him to the couch and turns on the fan so he can cool off and catch his breath, before carefully moving his cat, Rayie (arabic for gorgeous, pronounced rye-ah) to the living room in his handmade Birthing Box, then grabs a pile of blankets and a heat lamp and situates himself on the ground nearby so he can help her if she needs it. once the kittens are born (they’re twins!! Sadiqi is the boy, and Amirti is the girl!!!) doc makes sure they’re nice and warm and that Rayie is recovering, and gives her pets while she cleans her babies. once the happy family is all settled in for the night, doc walks over to the couch and just. lays down on top of lion. once he’s gotten over the adrenaline of the birth, he takes lion’s face in his hands and says “promise me you’ll be more calm if we ever decide to have kids” and gives him a BIG smooch while lion’s just short-circuiting like “does he know i have a son???? did i forget to mention my son?????? also what about these kittens??? are they not sufficiently childish to count as children????? DOES HE WANT KIDS????? does he want to marry me??????? wait why is he getting so clo-”

Wedding:

Who proposed? - lion. it was the day of their two year anniversary (yes i AM saying they got together the august after outbreak don’t @ me) and they were on vacation at doc’s family’s Secret Beach House. they were vibing on the balcony, watching the sunset, when lion suddenly clears his throat. doc turns to look at him and finds his boyfriend down on one knee, looking like he might flee to Bermuda. he’s reaching for something in his pocket. doc starts laughing. lion, completely misunderstanding his reaction, flushes and stammers out an apology. doc sees this, and immediately stops, though he’s still smiling gleefully as he catches lion by the biceps, then reaches into his own pocket and pulls the ring he was going to give olivier. they exchange rings, giggling like little kids, and spend the rest of the night making out on whatever surfaces are available.

Who is the best man/men? - for lion? montagne. (his son is the ring bearer and doc’s niece is the flower girl). for doc? rook. he’s so happy he gets to participate in his dad’s wedding

Who is the bride’s maid(s)? - for lion: finka. for doc: twitch

Who did the most planning? - both of them!! do you know how hard they worked to ensure the ceremony was valid in the eyes of both of their religions

Who stressed the most? - s e e a b o v e

How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - lion’s parents. they tried to call him during the reception but doc’s grandma grabbed his phone and started cussing them out, talking about dishonor and how they tried to disown him so they’re not his parents anymore, and besides, his new family absolutely adores him, so really, it’s their loss. once she hangs up, she pulls lion into a hug and he calls her his favorite, if only, grand-mère

Sex:

Who is on top? - who’s topping? lion. but sometimes doc gets bitchy so he gets to set the pace if you know what i mean

Who is the one to instigate things? - they are both lowkey horny 24/7 so 👀👀👀

How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now (only because they do get to see each other fairly often. if one goes on a long mission without the other, once they get back they will bump it up to a 10 real quick)

How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

How long do they normally last? - idk long enough ig. maybe longer if someone feels they’ve been left ~unsatisfied~ they might go a few more rounds ;))

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - ok it depends on what they’re doing but usually it’s one or two each, but on ~special~ occasions it’s either doc getting edged and denied for hours, OR doc getting forced to come over and over again until he’s begging for something, whether it be more or a goddamn break even he isn’t really sure. either way he’s crying and lion is consistently asking if he needs to safeword and otherwise checking in because they may like it rough but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care

How rough are they in bed? - Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? - unless someone’s hormones and organs get fucked, zero

How many children will they adopt? - probably none?? idk they’ve already got lion’s son and they’re both busy enough with work so

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - NEITHER!!!!! DISGUSTANG!!!!!!!!!

Who is the stricter parent? - god i wanna say both. like lion and his attachment to rules??? but doc and his Mom Friend energy????? but ig lion BUT HE’S NOT STRICT TO THE POINT HE’S A BUZZKILL OR ANYTHING HE’S JUST RESPONSIBLE (he will NOT allow his husband and son to go vandalize the property of some islamaphobic brits, as much as he agrees with the sentiment)

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - doc will only allow vandalism if it’s in the name of righteousness. meaning, he’ll allow their son to spray paint the walls of a goddamn walmart with shit like “eat the rich” and a portrait of robespierre and a guillotine, but it is a HARD NO on defacing places like the library or community center (unless he has a good reason to do so). lion spends his time praying and making sure his son knows which acts of civil disobedience are acceptable and which are distorting their goal

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - doc. he (privately) dreams of retiring (eventually) and living out his lifelong dreams of being a househusband. so

Who is the more loved parent? - SHUT THE FUCK UP RIGHT NOW GET OUT OF MY HOUSE IM GONNA BEAT YOUR ASS. but ig lion??? BUT ONLY BECAUSE THEIR SON HAS KNOWN HIM LONGER. doc is half Dad and half Cool Uncle Who Gives Me Spray Paint And Tells Me To Make Myself Heard (to clarify, i know doc is a pacifist, but im kinda projecting my own sentiment of “we’ve tried to be peaceful but you wouldn’t give us the time of day. now that we’ve “acted out” we’ve gotten your attention, and rest assured, things are going to change.” he won’t hurt anybody, he’s just tired of having to be everyone’s “muslim friend” and educating people on things they could google themselves)

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? - it used to be lion out of necessity, but when people started asking about his “wife” he was really torn between telling them that he and his son’s mother separated, but now he has a partner and his son seems very happy about it. when doc finally attends a meeting with lion, people really struggle to hide their shock. a few clunky but well-meaning “we support you”’s and “we’re sorry for everything that’s been going on”’s later, doc has used his charm to make friends with literally everyone. from then on, he is on pta duty on behalf of lion and his ex

Who cried the most at graduation? - lion! his parents purposefully didn’t show at his, so it’s a big deal for him to show his son just how proud he is. doc tears up a little too, but manages to mostly keep it together so he can support lion, who spends most of the day heave-crying about how proud he is into his husband’s shoulder. gustave just pats him on the back and tells him that they’ll run out of donuts if they don’t get to the concession stand soon

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - doc. civil disobedience, baby!! he has never been caught. lion fears the law after his youth, so he tries to avoid any visits to law enforcement. he also can’t stand to see his son behind bars

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? - doc. househusband, remember?

Who is the most picky in their food choice? - doc, but only because he can be a bit of a spice supremacist. he has to get his ingredients from these very specific farms and markets or else his great grandmother will begin manifesting in their house to curse them

Who does the grocery shopping? - doc, bc he does NOT trust lion to not just sweep all of the microwave ramen and kraft mac n cheese into the cart then sprint to self-checkout

How often do they bake desserts? - whenever possible. doc and maestro live by the philosophy “don’t do anything halfway” if they’re going to go through the trouble of making a meal, it will have multiple courses.

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - doc is more of a salad eater but only for ease of consumption with halal laws. he adores filet mignon

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - lion! maestro enlists himself as assistant head chef after walking into the base’s kitchen one day to find lion covered in flour and lying facedown on the floor, crying

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - also lion! though he’s memorized doc’s order at all of their favorite restaurants, so he usually just gets take out and puts on a big show of being a “tired housewife who works in the kitchen all day just for this one meal” and setting up the table so it’s all nice and romantic

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking? - lion. he tried crème brûlée once. never again

Chores:

Who cleans the room? - lion. organization is everything to this man. doc helps with laundry and such, but for the most part he leaves organization to lion and his systems (think leslie knope levels of planning and organization)

Who is really against chores? - neither! they both understand that teamwork makes the dream work, baby!!

Who cleans up after the pets? - doc, since lion’s already asked him which color hanger should represent “clothes i can tear off my husband before we fuck” and he needs a Moment

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - neither. they don’t own a broom

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - lion because of the deep-seated catholic urge to appear perfect in front of others, and doc because people will gossip, olivier!

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - lion. he immediately called doc into the room and asked “is this your stash of drug money?” doc, who had been asleep because it was 3 in the morning on a saturday, just stares at him

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - it is so bold to assume they don’t shower together to “cut costs”

Who takes the dog out for a walk? - lion is known in their neighborhood as the man who walks cats. there is a facebook page where people post pictures of him walking his cats. vigil is an admin

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - LITERALLY EVERY HOLIDAY GETS DECORATIONS. lion makes his own for the muslim holidays since there really aren’t many “of good quality” in stores. when they first started dating, doc came home to find his house covered in ramadan decorations, and lion standing precariously on a ladder, trying to string up fairy lights while learning how to pronounce important arabic words. needless to say, doc cries

What are their goals for the relationship? - mutual joy and contentment!!!!

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - doc. he’s sleepy

Who plays the most pranks? - lion, but they’re stupid ones like replacing certain pictures with danny devito. doc gets back at him by replacing pictures of jesus with ewan mcgregor, and putting yoda into his nativity scene. lion doesn’t notice

#ask #anonymous #r6s doc #r6s lion #doc/lion #ass alert!#could you tell i forgot whether or not lion's ex and son had names #thank you for interacting!

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razieltwelve · 4 years

Text

Crossover (RWBY x Final Rose)

Yang groaned and tried to roll over.

“Come on, sleepy head.” Summer grinned and nudged Yang again. “You’re going to be late for breakfast if you don’t get up. And you know how Ruby is. There won’t be any pancakes left if you dawdle. Come on. Get up.”

“Go away, mom.” Yang buried her face in her pillow. “I... mom!” Yang rolled over and stumbled to her feet. Her legs tangled in her blankets, and she thudded into the floor. She was up in an instant. “Mom! You’re alive!”

“Uh... yeah.” Summer blinked, and then her eyes widened as Yang grabbed her like she was afraid she was going to disappear. And then Yang, her brave, fierce daughter, began to sob like a little girl. “Yang...?”

“Mom!” Yang tightened her hold. “Mom!”

“Uh...” Raven knocked on the door. “Am I... interrupting something?”

Yang eased back just enough to glare at Raven. “You!”

“Okay...” Raven tilted her head to one side. “I know you’re probably still mad about me not saving the last piece of cake from Ruby, but you know how your sister can get.”

“What are you doing here?” Yang snarled, and then she looked back at Summer. “And... and you’re dead... this... this can’t be real. None of this can be real.”

“Yang,” Summer’s voice sharpened. “What are you talking about? I know I was quite ill for a while, but I’m definitely alive. And...” She trailed off as she finally noticed something amiss. Yang’s Aura was very subtlety different. Had it not been for Yang’s strange behaviour, she probably wouldn’t have noticed it. She jerked back and skidded to a stop next to Raven. Her weapon was in her hands in an instant. “Who are you?”

“What are you doing?” Raven hissed. “Summer!”

“Reach out for her Aura,” Summer growled. “It’s not exactly the same as Yang’s.”

Raven did as Summer asked. “What in the world...?” Her eyes narrowed. “You’d better start talking right now -”

Summer’s scroll began to buzz. When she didn’t move to answer it, her scroll answered itself. That could only mean one of a handful of people since there weren’t very many people at all capable of seizing control of her device remotely.

“Summer,” Vanille’s voice filled the room. “I know you’re probably busy cooking breakfast or something, but I need you to pay attention. My instruments just detected a colossal tachyon burst at your location. I’m a talking huge, huge, huge burst. There is almost certainly a dimensional anomaly of some kind near your location. Can you have a look? And be careful. We don’t know what it could be.”

Summer looked at Yang. “Vanille, I think we might have a problem.”

X X X

Yang tried not to stare at Summer and failed miserably. It was just too much. Apparently, she’d been transported into another world during her sleep, and boy was this one different. Not only was Summer alive, but her parents - all three of them - were married. Raven... Raven was actually around and doing mom things. And if that wasn’t enough, Ruby wasn’t her only sibling anymore. She had four more younger siblings.

“I...” Yang shook herself. “I... I don’t know what happened. One night I went to sleep in my world, and the next thing I know, I’m here. And... and you’re alive, mom.”

Summer frowned. Vanille and Diana were present via scroll. “What do you mean by that, Yang?”

“In... in my world, you died when I was just a kid. And Raven...” Yang looked at the dark-haired woman. “You never... you never came back home. You left, and you never came back. It’s just me, dad, and Ruby. It’s always been just the three of us ever since you died, mom.”

Summer looked like she wanted to throw up, as did Taiyang. Raven just stared into her coffee with an inscrutable expression.

“Did something go wrong on a mission?” Summer asked. Vanille had mentioned the possibility of their worlds being similar except for certain divergences. “Was Vanille not able to cure me?”

“That’s the thing, mom. There isn’t anybody in my world named Vanille.” Yang pointed to the picture hanging on the wall. It showed more than a dozen different people. “The only four people I recognise in that picture are you, dad, Uncle Qrow, and Raven. Those other people don’t exist in my world.”

“You’re telling me,” Raven said. “That teams LFSC and SYLV don’t exist in your world?”

“They don’t.”

Taiyang shuddered. “Yang... what kind of place is your world? I have to ask because Team LFSC is the single most powerful team in the world, and SYLV is no slouch either, even setting aside the fact that Vanille might possibly be the smartest person in history.”

“It’s... it’s bad, dad.” Yang found it so easy to call him that. He was just like her dad, only he seemed to smile a lot more. And why wouldn’t he? He hadn’t lost anyone here. Her parents were all still alive and well. “We’re barely hanging on. Is it different here?”

“Yes,” Raven said bluntly. “We haven’t won the war yet, but over the past few decades, we’ve crushed the Grimm in every major battle that we’ve fought.” She tapped the scroll and a map appeared. “This is how much territory we control.”

Yang gasped. “That’s more than double what we’ve got, maybe even more than triple.”

“Hmmm...” Vanille hummed thoughtfully. “That’s not surprising. If you look at the pivotal battles over the past thirty years, Team LFSC has made major contributions in almost all of them. Plus, if Team STRQ basically disintegrated in your world, that’s another one of the top teams just gone, not including my team not even existing.”

“And considering all the of the crazy stuff you’ve come up with to help...” Raven scowled. “Wait, if Team LFSC doesn’t exist that means no Diana or Averia or Taren. And if you don’t exist, that’s not just you. That’s your children, your lab, and everything you’ve helped influence.”

“...” Summer covered her face with one hand. “No wonder things are so bad in your world.” She looked at Yang, and Yang had to blink back tears. The Yang of this world was so, so lucky to have three loving parents, all of them alive and present in one place. “We need to know more. If... if our Yang has been transported to your world, we need to know what sort of trouble she might be in.”

“Big trouble,” Diana muttered. “But there is some hope. You said that Yang’s scroll was missing, right?”

Summer nodded. “It wasn’t in her room. We’ve searched it just to be sure.”

“Then it’s likely been transported with her. That’s a top of the line scroll. I made it for her myself. Now, the part that matters is that it uses quantum-entanglement combined with Aura-synchronisation technology. I won’t go into all of the math and stuff, but although we can’t normally track things across dimensions with any degree of accuracy, there are some exceptions... like if we have a beacon that just so happens to be synched to our comms.”

“Wait!” Taiyang shot to his feet. “You’re saying you can find her?”

“We’re looking into it now,” Vanille said. “Depending on how far from our dimension she’s been displaced, it may take longer to find her. But once we do, we should be able to establish communications.”

“And then what?” Taiyang growled. “Can we get her back?”

“If they had a Saviour on the other end, we could ask their Lightning to hack a hole in reality that connects to one our Lightning makes and then kind of just, you know, throw them both into it. Without a Saviour on their end, though, things are going to get tricky, and Lightning trying to hack her way there on her own could have pretty negative consequences for their dimension.”

Yang tried to parse through the technical talk before deciding she should ask about it later. “If she was placed where I was, then she should be okay. I was with my team at Beacon.”

“Your team?” Summer smiled. “Is it still Team RWBY?”

“You bet.” Yang found herself grinning. “We’re the best, and...” She paused. “Is there a Team RWBY here?”

“Yeah.” Taiyang smiled.

“Could... could I talk to Ruby,” Yang said. “And the rest of my team? I know it’s a lot to ask. I’m... I’m not the Yang you know, and I get it if you don’t trust me, but...”

“It’s fine.” Taiyang stood. “Ruby should be okay, but we’ll have to tell your younger siblings something to keep them from prying too much. Let me just get Ruby.”

X X X

“So... uh, hey.”

Ruby tilted her head to one side. Her parents had given her a very brief introduction about what had happened. Diana had ended up giving her an even briefer summary too: inter-dimensional Yang from a crappy dimension.

And, boy, was that dimension crappy. Her Summer Mom was dead. Raven Mom was AWOL, and most of their friends just didn’t exist. Oh, and the world was on the verge of ending.

Ruby did the first thing that came to mind. This might not be her, Yang, but this was still a Yang. And from the way she fidgeted, just like the Yang she’d grown up with, she could tell she was barely holding it together. She lunged forward and hugged Yang.

“Hey.”

Yang froze for a moment and then hugged her back. “You're just like my Ruby.” Yang whispered. “Well, not exactly, but really close to her.”

“I hope she’s as awesome as I am.” Ruby smiled at Yang. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I don’t know,” Yang murmured. “This is a lot to take in. I’m in another world, and everything is different, and... and...” She took a deep breath. “And part of me looks around at all of this - at what you and your Yang have got - and feels envious. Mom is still alive here, and Raven is... she’s so different here. I mean... she’s actually here and doing mom stuff. And I’ve got four other younger siblings, along with you.”

“You don’t have them over... oh.” Ruby winced. With Summer Mom dead and Raven Mom absent, of course they wouldn’t have any younger siblings. “That’s pretty grim, huh?”

“Grim?” Yang snickered. “Was that supposed to be a pun?”

“Maybe. My Yang makes a lot of pretty lame puns. What about you?”

“I’ll have you know my puns aren’t lame.”

There was a roar from overhead.

“What was that?” Yang asked, getting into a defensive stance.

“Relax. That sounds like one of Aunt Vanille’s high speed transports. She’s probably here to investigate.”

A few moment later, a red-haired fox Faunus all but kicked the front door open. There was a dark-haired girl behind her, as well as a... gorilla?

“Relax, people,” Vanille shouted. “I have arrived!”

X X X

Yang raised her hands, and Ember Celica moved into place. “Stay back.”

“Yang!” Ruby growled. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t know what’s going on, but I was definitely in our house when I went to sleep.” Yang glared. “And whoever is making this illusion needs to do their homework. Weiss hasn’t used a scroll that outdated in months.”

“Outdated?” Weiss scowled. “I’ll have you know that this is one of the finest-”

“Is that you, Jihl?” Yang shouted, looking around. “I don’t know what makes you think you can get away with this. When my family finds out, you’ll be in big trouble. Hell, when Aunt Lightning finds out, you’ll be in a coffin.” She frowned when nothing happened. “Or is that you, Jahne? If this is supposed to be a prank. It’s not funny. Seriously, cut it out.”

Still nothing happened.

The impostors took another step forward, and Yang’s Aura flared.

“Not one step closer.”

The Ruby impostor was about to say something - and she had to be an impostor because Crescent Rose had none of the additions that her sister had worked with Diana to put together - when Yang’s scroll began to ring. She answered it, keeping her eyes on the others the whole time.

“This is Yang.”

“Phew...” That was Diana’s voice. “Good. We finally found you. Okay. Try not to panic.”

“I’m not panicking.”

“But we’re fairly sure that you got swapped with another Yang from a different dimension.”

“What the hell?” Yang shrieked. “What do you mean I got swapped?”

“Basically, you’re stuck in her dimension, and the other Yang is in ours.” A hologram appeared. It showed her living room with her parents plus another Yang. “See?”

“What?” Yang looked at the three people who were evidently not impostors but Ruby, Weiss, and Blake from another dimension. “Can you bring me back?”

“Well...”

“What does that mean?” Yang hissed. “What does that mean?”

“It means we’re currently working on a retrieval strategy,” Diana said. “Look, I know this is freaky, but we’ve got our best people on it. We will get you back. It just might take a while.”

“A while?” Yang shouted. “How long is a while?”

“At the moment, we’re estimating it might take us a week... ish?”

“Ish? Week... ish? What does the ish part mean?”

“I think you’re better off not knowing,” Diana said bluntly. “Now, do you think you could put the scroll down, so I can display a larger hologram? If this is Team RWBY from that dimension, they need to know a few things.”

Yang put the scroll down, and they were soon immersed in a conversation between not only her family and the other Yang but also this Team RWBY and her. It soon became apparent that there were big, big differences between dimensions.

“Summer Mom is dead?” Yang stumbled back until she hit the wall.

Ruby swallowed thickly. “Yeah. She died when we were kids.” She looked at the hologram of Summer. “I...” She blinked back tears. “I know she’s not my mom, but she... she looks so much like her and...”

Without even thinking about it, Yang found herself hugging Ruby. “It’s okay. I... I’m sure that when they find a way to bring me back, they’ll find a way to let you come visit or something.”

“Basically,” Vanille explained. “Our plan is for you to build a massive beacon on your side, big enough that we can get a really, really accurate reading of where and when you are along with the prevailing conditions. Once we know those things, we’ll have your Aunt Lightning punch a hole through to that dimension. I mean... she could probably do it now, but if she makes a mistake she might sort of, you know, blow a giant hole in reality over there, which would probably kill everyone.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” Yang asked. “The only thing I know about inter-dimensional physics is that I don’t know anything about it.”

“We’ll forward you instructions, but you’re going to need help to build the device. It’s simply not something you can do on your own.”

“Uncle Qrow will help us,” Ruby said. “And we can ask dad for help too. I’m sure we can make it work.”

“Perhaps my sister will aid us,” Weiss said. “If your dimension is as advanced technologically as you say, then I have no doubt that an exchange could be made.”

“Help for help? We can work something out.” Vanille nodded. “In the meantime, Diana is sending you schematics for how to modify a normal scroll. This should allow you to use other scrolls to function as beacons, so even if you lose yours, we’ll still be in contact. I suggest you prioritise that. A backup means of contacting us is essential.”

“Right.” Yang took a deep breath. She could do this. “How is... how is everyone taking it?”

“To be blunt,” Diana said. “This is need to know only, so we’re keeping it contained. However, we’ve already started building a more powerful communications device. If we’re really, really lucky, we might be able to send things through to you. It'll be tough, and we probably won’t be able to send anything bigger than a shoebox without it getting mangled beyond repair, but it should help.”

“Anything you can give me would be great.” Yang nodded. “Just make sure you get me back, okay?”

“Of course, we will.”

X X X

Author’s Notes

Oh, boy. This occurs before the Fall of Beacon in the canon timeline, so things haven’t completely gone to pieces yet. However, Yang (FR version) will have her work cut out for her because canon RWBY isn’t nearly as technologically advanced as the FR (Final Rose) world. And let’s not forget the shock both Yangs must be going through. Canon Yang is busy staring at people who either are dead or who abandoned her while FR Yang is trying to wrap her mind around the fact that almost everyone she knows either doesn’t exist or is dead or is different. At least, she’s still got Ruby.

If you’re interested in my thoughts on writing and other topics, you can find those here.

I also write original fiction, which you can find on Amazon here. I’ve recently released two stories, Attempted Adventuring and Surviving Quarantine, as well as two audiobooks, Two Necromancers, a Bureaucrat, and an Army of Golems and Two Necromancers, a Dragon, and a Vampire. If you like humour, action, and adventure, be sure to check them out.

#final rose #rwby #fanfiction #yang xiao long #summer rose #raven branwen #taiyang xiao long #oerba dia vanille #ruby rose #diana yun-farron #team rwby

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raleigh-ocean · 4 years

Text

troubles of a learning heart, part 1 | billie dean howard x dara ann lynch

words: 12,580

summary: Love was quite the difficult thing at times, Billie thought many times, and she admired Dara for spending the last seven years how it felt to be truly loved, however when she started to try and give back that love to her...well, let’s say she didn’t expect that there would be moments in which she would have to step forward and actively show it. But, as she lies in bed with Dara still by her side, she thinks that she will make it as long as her heart pick up quick in the habits, in the ways of showing her dear love that she’s being reciprocated. First part of two.

warning: anxiety attack? Idk I kinda wanna give y’all some warning that there’s a heavy part near the end.

n/a: I want to thank @grilledcheeseandguavajelly for encouraging me to post it, because I’ve been feeling like a no-no since I finished this yesterday. This is full of tiny headcanons and bits from other of my stories and some others I want to write, so I hope you enjoy it. This first part is like a prequel to put a context to the next chapter of ‘over my skin, part 3’ and the second part would be the resolution of this big thing, because it goes deeper. I’m trying to make Billie finally build her love, all those raw feelings she has for Dara and put her into a few situations I think it will help her.

"Here you go papi, take it easy, don't want your mother to scream at both because you spilled your ice-cream all over your new shirt so soon."

Billie looked at Dara in that moment with a mix of fondness and amusement, trying at the same time to find a way to help the other seven year old boy, who was smiling at his brother with all the happiness a kid could gather up when given what they wanted.

Her attention drifted a bit when a loud chuckle interrupted the moment, the teenage girl that was fighting her chocolate ice-cream from melting all over her hand snapping her out of the calm picture and getting a scowl back from the last boy.

"Auntie always has shirts to spare around because they get messy," the scowling boy - Ezra, Billie recalled his name this time - was barely two months older than the twin boys, but since she met him, Billie found out that he was an intelligent and straight-to-the point kid.

"I figure, y'all lot have the same curse with food and clothes," Dara smiled at him with the sweetest dimpled smile, which was returned with a similar one from Ezra. "I remember when your sister was around your age that your abuelita always had sweatpants ready in case of an accident."

That made the teenager blush fiercely and the kids to giggle, Billie trying to hide her own smile eating some of her own ice-cream.

Today was being a good day so far even when she had her doubts about it when it started, taking in count she was not used to babysit. But she thought it was good in someway, an exception to make her remember that even when she was in some kind of vacation from work, it felt good to be able to do something instead of just sitting around in a house that was still pretty much unknown for her.

"What? Did I lie mami?" Dara, in a smooth move, saved some vanilla ice-cream from falling into the table and then ate a spoonful of her own - Billie always found funny how most of the time Dara picked fruit flavors.

"Please aunt Dara, stop calling me that," Eva - Billie remembered that one easily - gave Billie a quick glance before trying to hide somehow her embarrassment.

"Yeah, give her a rest babe," Billie was fast to pick up that and with the pet name, she had Dara smiling at her and throwing her hands in the air, all of that before lowering her voice a bit. "I think her friends overheard you enough back at the mall."

"Fine, fine, I'm only stopping because you gonna get enough of it once we are back at the house," Dara took a look over her niece and nephews before standing up. "I'm getting some more napkins before any mess happens."

It was weird for Billie to see that 'doting aunt' side of Dara, but she couldn't help but think how much it suited her. Hearing her talk with soft and cheerful voice here and there, only made Billie believe that her partner was a natural when it came to take care of the rest.

She looked at her for a second, seeing how much Dara was limping but not complaining about it, and it filled Billie with some sick respect for her...and worry.

However her attention drifted once again when Ezra asked her if he could try some of her ice-cream in a shy tone, mostly because his sister didn’t seem to let him indulge in that. Not having Dara by her side made Billie nervous for some reason, probably because she wasn’t used to be in her own in this situation. And also because she didn’t know much about Dara’s hometown, so it was a strange situation for sure.

“Kids!” the sudden masculine voice startled Billie, making her heart to start beating faster. “Where’s your mom, hmm?”

“¡Tío!” it was then when Billie entered the panic zone because two of the four kids were moving faster than she could, going to hug a man that she never saw before. “We’re eating ice-cream!”

This tall man, with leather vest, an old t-shirt of some kind of festival and baggy jeans. His hair was slicked back except for a few loose strands that fell over his forehead. He had tattoos covering his arms and some showing through the neck of his shirt.

“That can I see and taste,” the man laughed because he had pick up the twins, they were kissing him in his cheeks and giving him to try their desserts, and then his eyes went to Billie first before looking at the teenager girl. “Where’s Diana or your mother, Eva? I thought Carla didn’t let you go alone outside.”

“We aren’t alone,” Ezra interceded, scowling once again, but not looking at the man. “We are with aunt Billie…”

If Billie was nervous and about to panic, hearing the kid addressing her like that calmed her in a weird way. She wasn't a stranger to be called aunt, her own sister had a couple of kids, but she visited them so little that it was just as weird. She smiled at him, but the man didn’t even seem to acknowledge Ezra nor her because he kept looking at Eva with an inquisitive look. Eva didn’t seem to want to talk and Billie wasn’t sure if she was afraid or just the stubborn teenager part, but she did it the same with a strange glint of pride that Billie already saw somewhere that she couldn’t pinpoint at the moment.

“Working. Aunt Dara came a few days ago, she’s watching over us,” it was time for the man to go pale suddenly.

“Edo, Ev, you’re gonna make a mess all over your uncle, get down papis, c'mon.”

Obedient as ever, the twins wiggled their way to the ground and Billie got her stomach in a tight knot only by feeling how the still cheerful situation dropped to one more serious. Dara was leaning in her cane with both hands, looking at the man that was now facing her, a nervous smile over his lips.

"Ana, how you doin'?" There wasn't a visible height difference, but Billie got the feeling that the man shortened when he leant to kiss Dara's cheek in a friendly way - and receiving a soft one back in response. "Didn't know you were back."

"For a few days, yeah, we're on vacation and decided to spend it with my family," the sentiment in Billie's guts got tighter when Dara was adamant in making a point with the way she said the 'we', tapping her cane in the ground twice. "And I've never been better Godo. I'm spending the morning with my niece and nephews, what else could I ask for?"

"That's amazing th-"

"Tío Godo asked where's mama, tía," Eduardo, the twin with the bright green shirt, was quick to speak over the adult while hugging Dara's good leg.

Billie saw the way Godo sunk a bit more with that, how Dara's brown eyes hardened and how Eva looked away almost immediately.

"Is that so, hmm?" Dara hummed, fixing Eduardo's messy black hair with quick fingers, the gold of her rings shining a bit while her attention went from the kid to the man.

"Just checking in Ana, y'know I worry about the kids and they were alone," Godo chuckled nervously and Billie immediately felt a soft static in her skin. "I bet you understand."

"Uncle here asked for mom too," Eva chirped, only making Dara to tighten her jaw a second before flashing one of her smiles.

"But they weren't alone, my partner here was with them," Billie absolutely didn't want to get any attention, unlike the rest of the time in her life. "As I am, so now you can go your way with your worries eased. I'm sure you can give my sisters a call if you wanted to speak with them, right?" Godo nodded and the static went away, Dara smiling at him again as if she was even glad to have met him there. "Great, then it was nice to see you, Big G."

When he was gone, Billie smiled almost shyly at Dara and was met with the purest form of happiness in the way the woman smiled her back. It was as if the encounter didn't happen and Billie knew right off the bat that there was a long story behind all of the animosity that the kids missed by a head - except maybe for Eva, which started to act a bit softer towards her little brother.

After that they resumed the ice-cream time a few minutes later and decided to make a quick stop to get burgers for take out. Billie knew Dara always liked to actually eat in the place, but by the way her leg was acting up, it was for the best to take everything back to the house instead of staying for lunch.

"Annie, everything alright?" asked Billie while the kids were already running towards Dara's parents and Eva was carrying the bags with the food.

"Yeah honey, just a bit tired but nothing a nap can't fix," Dara leant for a kiss, one longer than the tiny pecks they shared over the morning. "I'm hungry actually, and you?"

"I'm hungry too," Billie chuckled, wrapping her arms better around Dara's waist and drawing a giggle from her. A new slow kiss making them forget their chances of making out like teenagers against Dara's mother's car were getting high. "But nothing we can’t fix before your nap," that made Dara laugh and Billie smiled big at her. "If we can, of course, I mean...did you see your nephews? We should be running before they eat our food too."

"Their stomachs are like black holes, incredible, isn't it?" Dara pressed her lips against Billie's in a lazy and tired kiss, before lacing their arms together so they could walk inside with the rest. "I think is a genetic thing."

And after only one day around Dara's family, Billie knew that it was true. She never saw so much food disappear so fast in a long while, and she was living with Dara for almost four years now and with her for almost three more.

…

“Who was the guy?”

Billie managed to pull away from the charm that was Dara spreading body cream in her legs to finally ask the question. They’d claimed the main bathroom for themselves after everyone had their turn and they were taking every extra second of that privacy.

Against the odds, Dara passed out the second she touched the inflatable mattress and Billie took that time to indulge in answering some emails at first, but after the few first ones it became impossible to do something else with Dara cuddling her right side with such sweet face. Would it be hard to take a quick nap? When they woke up, Billie thought she had been hit with a rock, her eyes too heavy, but tiny kisses helped her to get rid of the sleep.

If they tried to get some well deserved private moment, it was broken the second Darziel - Dara’s little brother - came through the door complaining about how their mother was doing some kind of zafarrancho to get ready for tonight’s dinner. Dara had hit him with her cane, repeatedly, until she managed to get him out of the room and then Ezra came in running from the twins, trying to get a place to hide. Billie knew it was a matter of time they got interrupted again and she was right the moment Deirdre - Dara’s biggest sister and Eva and Ezra’s mom - came into the room, hiding as well from her own mother…

...and in a matter of time, the room was crowded.

“Who?” asked Dara, fixing a bit her loose robe, but not stopping from going through the little routine. Billie was used to see it and appreciate it by now and seeing her so bare, raw, natural, helped greatly each time to remind her how much she loved her girl.

“Badass Godo-guy,” explained Billie, getting as comfortable as she humanly could, sitting in an old stool and her back to the tile wall. “He was pretty adamant in ignoring not only me but your nephew. Ezra told him I was with them but turned a deaf ear on it.”

For a second Billie forgot what was she saying because Dara turned around, the robe loose again and letting her see...well, some pretty nice things; and walked towards her - barely two steps because the bathroom wasn’t really big - to sit in her lap. Billie feared for a second the stool was going to collapse under their weight, but it was resilient enough. Hands on hips, hands on shoulders and Dara was sighing softly while playing with the ends of Billie’s blonde hair.

“My brother-in-law’s brother...Diana’s,” Billie silently thanked the clarification, drawing her thumbs over Dara’s thighs in random patterns - she was extra careful with the one scarred. “He’s a fucking bully, went with me to high school. Godofredo doesn’t like many people and the sentiment is mutual.”

“For being a bully, you got him acting like a tiny pupper, doll,” Dara was the one smiling shyly this time, getting a kiss just for that.

“Let’s say that I...beat him up really hard once,” Billie kissed Dara’s knuckles and fingers, bare from her usual rings, and then the inside of her wrist were one of her cross tattoos rested. “And twice, and thrice...and broke a chair in his back.” It was then when Billie looked at her wide-eyed. “That one had to do with why he ignored my nephew like that.”

Billie knew they would’ve been at it right away again, but she felt satisfied with what they did in the shower for some reason. That’s why they were last to shower, because Dara took in her hands all the things her siblings didn’t want to do - helping her mother in the kitchen, per example; driving her uncle Cedric to his appointment afterwards while Billie tried to help Dara's father in the backyard - to have the rest of the time from there to dinner free.

It was their time, only theirs to do as they wanted, and Billie wanted to actually fill it with more than sex.

Talking was good, she liked hearing Dara talk, and hearing more about her was even better. She was genuinely interested in whatever she was about to hear...because all she could focus in was the woman sitting in her lap, not in whatever was floating inside her brain almost twenty four seven.

“Godo and Berto’s oldest brother is Eva’s father,” Billie saw Dara frowning and she leant to kiss her chin, getting one in her cheek in response. “I don’t even care where the fuck he is now, Berto neither, but Godo always looked up to his big brother. Fifteen years has passed and he still forgets that his brother lost any right as father and partner the day he left my sister to her own devices, and that’s only the top of the list,” there was tiredness in Dara’s voice and a hint of rage that faded when Billie focused in keep drawing soft patterns in her skin. “It took my sister eight years to finally move on, she got married and soon Ezra was in the way. Godo still takes that as a treason or I don’t even know at this point...and well, the rest is story.”

“But I don’t get how you ended up breaking a chair in his back,” it was a lot to take in, to be fair, but Dara couldn’t help but laugh when Billie tried to lighten the mood in the bathroom.

“He decided to be a super duper asshole towards Deirdre while we were doing groceries, and well, a twenty-five years old me was really...let’s say I had a lot of pent up anger. I was invited to a party and you know how I get with the gin and he had the fucking audacity to show up,” Dara shrugged a bit and kissed Billie on the lips, sweet and slow while indulging in the intimate embrace. “If it wasn’t for Daya, he would have had a broken pool stick going clean through his thigh.”

“Wait, twenty-five, we already met when you did all of that?” Billie blinked fast at that and Dara blushed hard. “Now I can see why you were so-”

“Oh shush, I still am like that or did you forget what we did a week ago?” it was time for Billie to laugh and Dara to act like she was offended by what she said. Act because of the way she bit her cheek playfully. “But I did soften since then.”

She didn’t think that Dara actually softened, sometimes Billie could see that fierceness in her eyes, but she let her have that because she decided to move when someone knocked on the door. It was Dara’s father, Jeziel, telling them that they needed help to set up the table. Billie muffled a laugh against her hand when Dara silently punched the air and pinched the bridge of her nose before replying that they were going down in ten.

“See?” Dara started to gather their things to get back to the room. “This is why I like your sister."

"Do you now?" Billie raised an eyebrow, because she knew how much Dara despised Josephine - Jo wasn't really polite with her and openly declared her dislike for Dara, even when Dara herself always tried to be the most polite ever, to the point that even Billie and Jo's father had started to make positive comments towards the younger woman.

"Yeah, with her at least I see the knife that's gonna stab me," Dara laughed openly and Billie couldn't help but chuckle with her. "Bunch of traitors, I'm telling you, we gonna steal the natillas and the vodka bottle and go feast by the pool."

"Baby, you're on your medication," Billie caught Dara by the waist, spinning her around so she could kiss her once again. "You can't get hammered."

"Calamities never come alone," Billie knew it was a rough translation of some spanish words just by how weird was it phrased, but it was okay, who cared anyway? "Would my lady in shining armor come save us from doing the dishes tonight?"

God, why was she so goofy unexpectedly? Dara didn't seem to want to let go, her arms circling Billie's neck with care and pressing slow kisses down her cheeks to her neck. It wasn't fair, it had to be illegal!

"We'll use one of the twins as distraction and the other to steal the car keys, I'll take you anywhere you want me to," she tried to sound dreamy, fairy tale-sque even, but all she did was sound a bit desperate. "Pick a direction and I'll drive."

"God, how much I love you Billie Dean," the next kiss was glorious, taking in count it was probably the big last one until they were again in their room late at night later. "But we should go already, honey, let's go."

And that was it, their private moment ended with a dreamy sight and a kiss to die for, and Billie felt like something in her chest beamed with pride, love and a deepness she was getting fond of.

Dara was a slow walker now, to her own dismay since she hated moving slow, so it was easy to capture her hand and intertwine their fingers. Billie opened her mouth for a second, thinking about what she was going to say next, and Dara looked at her with curiosity filling her tired eyes. Without make-up, Billie could see the tiny freckles over her nose and cheeks better and it only added her a whole new level of cuteness.

"Are you okay Bills?" it was a question in a whisper, genuine worry laced with the words.

"Yes, it's only that I...well," she wanted to say it, she really wanted but it was too difficult. "I…" Dara's eyes shone in anticipation, one that made Billie feel a bit bad. "I think you didn't softened, you only got wiser and more patient."

How hard actually was when Dara said it to her almost everyday?

"Absolutely, if twenty-five me would had been in the same situation as thirty-two me today, that man would had been at the dentist to get fake teeth for real as of now," Dara giggled, hiding away the little disappointment upon not hearing those words she wanted to hear so bad, and kissed Billie's cheek sweetly. "Not letting him go with the soft warning of 'go already or I'll break your ribs with my cane'," one more kiss to Billie's nose and a dimpled smile. "Now let's go, before Diana breaks a new plate in the way to set up the table."

...

Billie didn’t know what to do at that point and it perfectly showed.

She always had easy talk ready to overcome awkward situations, that’s how she survived to lots of parties all those years. But Dara could see that it wasn't that easy for her right in this moment, not when she was watching Deirdre and Diana argue over God knows what and none seemed to want to stop them.

Dara was used to that, Deirdre was always out of touch with the fact that Diana was sensitive and Diana always forgot that Deirdre loved to burn every argument down to the base. It didn't help at all that her mom was trying to give Billie some pointers about, again, God knows what and that was messing up with any tempo her dear medium was trying to keep. She wanted to go save her before it was too late for her head, but she was busy getting the plates over the table in order while Eduardo tried to talk her ear off about the show he seemed to love so much these days.

How could a seven years old talk that much and so fast? If she wasn't trained with the old ladies at the store, she would've gone insane only five seconds in.

"¿En serio, papi? Give me that," Dara smiled at her nephew, not wanting to cut his speech but needing the cutlery in his hands. Eduardo gave it to her without taking a break from talking. "Hmm, abuelita gave you more forks, someone's coming?" But the kid was too deep in his world of explaining to his favourite part to actually pay more attention than the necessary to his aunt. "Well, we'll see later then."

It was something that didn't worry Dara at all, taking in count in her house there was always more people than the usual. Maybe her parents invited some friend over or her siblings, who knows? Reaching for her cane, which she left against the table, Dara decidedly tried to move towards Billie now that she was free.

Her grandfather, Bruno, saved the medium from the little chaos and they were sharing a comfortable silence in the couch, or at least that much Dara could see. Seeing both like that, two of the most important people in her life getting along well, made her stomach explode with butterflies as if she was a teenager again. And she wanted to be part of it too, even when she overheard some ruckus in the front door.

However, the ruckus had a name and Dara was interrupted in her tiny quest of making her way to Billie because of the new guest at the house.

"Oh God, Dara!!!!!" Loud as ever, the asian girl crossing the backyard door was smiling directly at her, running with open arms towards her and meeting in a big hug. "How long since I last saw you? Instagram posts doesn't count, it's been forever!"

"Don't be dramatic Gemma, I was here a couple months ago," Dara couldn't help but laugh at her soon sister-in-law's antics. "I hope Darziel is treating you right."

"Your brother will always treat me well," Gemma's laugh was clear and soft, making Dara feel at ease only with that. "Where's your mom, by the way? My mom made me brought over some desserts and other things."

"Kitchen...I think? You know the drill, follow the panicked voice and you'll find her," they both laughed with that and Gemma hugged her again, Dara indulging on it because well, she missed her friend, to be honest. "At my left at dinner like always?"

"Of course! Your right is for your grangran, how can I stole his sea-"

"Actually, tonight Billie is at my right," the statement made Gemma stop from walking and she looked back at Dara with surprise and curiosity written all over he face. "He's at her right."

"No way, is she here?" Hearing Gemma so excited only because Billie came to Sacramento this time, made Dara happily hum and nodded where Billie was now shyly chatting with Deirdre's husband. "Okay, okay, later you'll fill me with details and I'll try to sell my soul to the devil so you two have a table at the restaurant before you go back home," Gemma squeezed Dara's hand over the cane and smiled big at her before Ezra drew her attention, hugging her by the thighs. "Hey, big guy! Let's go see your granny, I brought your favourite mini-cakes."

When Gemma was gone, Dara couldn't help but chuckle to herself. Who would have tell that an eight year gap was something difficult in a friendship? She practically saw Gemma grow up in the woman she was today, her brother and her the bestest of friends until the spark of love grew between them and became more. To this day, it still amazed Dara how everyone was so blind to not see how Darziel was head over heels with her since they were little.

Maybe she could tell Billie that story at the promised dinner at Gemma's parents' restaurant.

Looking towards her blonde, Dara caught Billie asking for silent help because Abraham was drifting away in the conversation - as always - and she was getting even more lost if it was possible. Yeah, she totally needed to save her girl, be the knight in shining armour first and all those nice things.

But right in the moment she was about to take the first step, she heard it clear even over the voices of everyone.

The whir of a motorbike making a left in the corner of the street, the engine stopping in front of the house...it was loud enough to fill the silence of the street even when the house was alive with voices. It made Dara's stomach churn anxiously just with that, because she knew that exact sound by heart and soul. She really wanted it to be a hallucination because of the mix of allergy and pain meds, but the doorbell going off told her it wasn't.

Frozen like she was, Dara managed to turn around when she heard the rest welcoming the new guest that came through the backyard door. She wasn't ready for this, not at all, but she composed her best smile by the moment her eyes locked with those she knew from a long time ago, filled with surprise and something deeper, something she wasn't sure what it was because she was too worried to not runaway in that moment.

"Dara...Ana," her second name was always the way to soften her and only three people in this world could make it work. "You look beautiful, how are you?"

Her grandfather, Billie and Benjamin, her ex.

"Getting ready for the feast," Dara smiled in automatic and she immediately knew Benjamin knew it as well, that she was slipping into her full damage control mode as the clock was ticking even when she felt herself less tense. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

And it wasn’t a lie, he had changed...both had changed greatly, in fact, but Dara thought the change looked better on him. Benjamin sported his hair short, one of those modern haircuts kids these days wore, and it was obvious he had trouble with styling it since he had wore it long since Dara had memory. He was dressed in jeans, clean sneakers, and shirt buttoned all the way up...and he looked so uncomfortable on it, that it drove Dara crazy for some reason.

Making her forget that she had literally no clue why he was even there.

And she moved towards him, like a magnet, instead of going to save Billie from Abraham’s never-ending talk.

Billie saw how Dara made her way towards the new man in the house and she felt something waking up in the pit of her stomach.

It wasn’t like she didn’t see Dara interacting with people, she was always polite and kind even with strangers, but it was the way the man threw his hands a bit to help her girl, the way Dara only moved her hand to dismiss it and got what she wanted - because who could get Dara to indulge without a fight? -; the way she fixed his shirt and his hair with quick fingers, the man thanking in a whisper while he also fixed his belt; and obviously the way he took her cane’s hand and kissed her fingers, over her rings, respectfully.

All of that it what truly woke Billie’s raw jealousy...but in a way she had never felt before.

A sad one that started eating her alive right in that moment.

It went worse the second they were all sat at the table finally. Dara seemed nervous, her fingers flickering with the need of having a cigarette over her knee, when this man sat in front of them led by Dara’s mother. Billie wanted to reach for her hand, intertwine her fingers with hers and kiss her head to whisper the softest ‘I love you’ ever whispered and see if it would help her girl to calm down.

Her eyes went to the rest of the table, trying to see if anyone was acting different, but she was met with the pure happiness of a family gathering. It gave her the empty sensation she sometimes had with Dara, like an impenetrable wall that hold back everything, but when she looked at their side of the table…

...she was met with something completely different.

Gemma was her bubbly self, but she kept being the most attentive towards Dara, talking her ear off but also giving her reassuring touches here and there. Darziel was as nervous as his sister, but he was trying to keep himself busy with eating because unlike Dara, his appetite never died apparently. Don Bruno kept eating, his eyes on the man as if he was able to dig holes in his skull just like that, but also kept passing Billie some of the dishes so she could eat a little of this and a little of that, making mumbled pointers about the food. Berto and Abraham talked to each other, to their kids, but sometimes gave nervous glances to their wives and to this man.

When her eyes finally landed in Carla, in the right end of the table, Billie knew there was something bigger than a family gathering going on and somehow, her sad jealousy went to a second plane because her attention was drawn by this same man that seemed to destabilize the whole picture.

“Sorry, I think we weren’t introduced,” he had a sweet smile, gentleman like, and it was pretty visible for her that he was trying to make things less awkward. He stretched his hand over the big lasagna platter and Billie went in automatic, taking it in hers. She expected a strong handshake but he held her hand as delicately as he did with Dara’s minutes ago. “I’m Benjamin Hernández, my parents are old friends of the family.”

“Billie Dean Howard,” she said her name trying to add the punch she always added when meeting someone, but she failed miserably. “I’m Annie’s partner.”

She did not fail, however, in finally reaching for Dara’s hand under the table with her free one, intertwining their fingers as she wanted. She didn't need to put up the charade of the medium of the stars, the fake smile, a more composed voice. She was just Billie.

And having Dara looking at her with the whole universe shining in her eyes was all that she needed to get her going through the whole dinner.

...

Saying that she ate too much was an understatement, she was pretty sure that she never ate that much to begin with. But it didn’t feel wrong, Billie was actually satisfied, warm and feeling just a bit tipsy thanks to the wine, making her enjoy better the rest of the night. She was still pretty much jealous, who was she kidding, but having Dara so close to her while they were playing domino with Diana, Deirdre and Gemma did wonders on her mood.

Dara seemed less nervous and leaving tiny pecks in her cheeks every time they did a good move in the game seemed to be helping her keep whatever storm that’s brewing in her head at bay.

“No, honey, you need to pay attention to this and this,” Billie nodded, following Dara’s hands. “And then...you put this one and boom! We won!”

“No fucking way!” Diana laughed at Deirdre’s reaction, Gemma still trying to figure out how Dara had won once again at domino. “To Hell with you, how do you do that? You always sucked ass to this game.”

“I found some online domino and the store is empty too many hours a day, I got better just by boredom,” Dara chuckled while Diana pulled all the tiles together, so they could play another round. “And Dahlia and I always play when we get together, she’s teaching Shelby as well.”

“And how that’s going? She’s a pretty good teach, I’ll always remember how she helped me with maths over Skype.” asked Gemma, happy to hear about Dahlia.

“Horrible, for a yoga instructor, Shelby sure does have like zero patience,” Billie laughed at that, the memory of how frustrated the other blonde woman was fresh in her head, while Dara put her arm over her shoulders. “Dahlia loves her too much to tell her, but hey, until then we got some funny show going."

Billie looked at Dara for a second, taking in the way the orangish light lightened her features ever so softly. Beautiful, so beautiful, so, so beautiful that Billie leant to kiss her just because she couldn't help it at this point of the night. Dara smiled against her lips and also indulged on it, her hand to Billie's cheek to loosely caress her cheekbone with her thumb.

It didn't last long but they kept kissing each other, peck after peck and making them forget they were about to play another round of domino, making both forget they felt still uneasy from dinner.

"Go get a room you two," Diana threw them a domino tile and Dara chuckled against the last kiss, receiving another one in the cheek.

"Same room you all keep using as hiding spot? No, thanks, I pretty much prefer to wait a few more days till we get home," Billie hid her face in Dara's neck so they couldn't see her smiling smugly at the lie, but also fondly at how the word 'home' sounded in Dara's lips. "Unless you want to learn some stuff from yo-"

"Oh my dear lord, don't finish that sentence Dara Ann Lynch!"

Everything sent them all into a big fit of laughter, one shushed quickly by Carla coming out from the kitchen back door with her arms akimbo. They five were the only ones still in the yard, the rest inside taking care of dirty dishes, sleepy kids and furniture moved.

“You better move inside, your father is already getting the ron out and all,” it was their cue to move, Billie knew that pretty well, and she soon had her arm ready for Dara to take. “Billie, can you be a dear and help me with coffee?”

“I can help you m-” Dara started to say before Billie could say or do something.

“Oh no, cariño," the way Carla smiled made Billie's stomach churn and she gave a side glance to Dara. "You rest a bit, okay? Dei, Dia, help your father, I think he's also fighting with the music thing you bought him for Christmas."

Deirdre and Diana said 'si mamá' at the same time and Gemma scratched the back of her neck, not knowing what to do since her mother-in-law didn't give her a task. Carla was still there, waiting for Billie, and she smiled at her before squeezing Dara's forearm a bit.

"Of course Carla, I'm coming."

Dara smiled faintly when Billie kissed her cheek and Gemma was quick to replace her, helping with the moving part towards the living room. As the day has gone by, Dara was feeling drained because all of the come and go had strained a bit her bad leg, and not even her cane was enough to make her feel steady.

Billie didn't want to leave her side, but playing nice with Dara's mother was important at this moment. She always felt there was some kind of separation with Dara's family and her, and she wanted to close that stranger gap. Sometimes she felt like they all were waiting for Billie to dump Dara and it was unnerving, to be fair, making her guts twist uncomfortably.

When she passed by the living room, Deirdre and Diana were talking with their father in spanish, the tone of their voices one of mockery yet exasperation because probably it wasn't the first time they helped him with the whole device. Cedric, Dahlia's father, was talking with Benjamin and Berto on the couch, while Abraham was getting glasses from a cabinet. The whole living room was getting cozy in someway, a kind of warmth Billie wasn't used to but she found herself not minding at this point...even enjoying it.

Everything was really different from her own childhood home.

Bruno gave Billie a warm smile when Carla and her got in the kitchen, tapping slightly with his hand the side table there to the rhythm of the song that was now playing in the background softly. There was still food in the counters, waiting to be fully cold and be stored in the fridge, but also there was a plate and a glass aside that made Billie recall that Dara's little sister, Dayanara, wasn't around yet.

"Is Dayanara coming home soon?" asked Billie after being told where were the stuff for coffee.

"Yeah, she called a few minutes ago, said in forty-five she'll be here," Carla chirped, turning on the stove so she could put the coffee pot and a kettle to heat up. "Daya's been working too many extra shifts this week, my poor baby."

"For a week that her sister is here, she should have stick with her usual schedule," rumbled Bruno, playing with a piece of paper that was over the side table.

"Ay papá, you know how she is, she just want to be better and be a good nurse, and that takes a lot of hard work," Carla gave Billie some cups and gestured her where the little spoons were. Dara had the same hand gestures as her mother, she noted.

"All I'm saying is that we barely have Anita here, demonios."

"Dara understands that Dayanara is working hard, she's the happiest as long as they can have some time together," interceded Billie after retrieving the spoons, leaving them in the tray they were getting ready. "But…" she looked over her shoulder before lowering her voice, a bit worried. "I feel like Dara thinks Dayanara is avoiding her or something."

And it wasn't a lie, to be honest. Dara did commented on it one of the days late at night, when they were lying awake because of the heat, and Billie easily picked up to what her girl was saying the next morning. She was always good at picking up the behaviour of the rest, even when sometimes was harder, thanks to her own gift and just by how Dayanara turned down every plan Dara had proposed to her, well, what else could be said.

However, Billie didn't drop the comment that innocently. If something was up, maybe a push in the right direction would give her some pointers about why everyone seemed so uneasy since they arrived. It wasn't only a thing of that day, Billie had been picking up the weirdness in the family little by little and decided to keep it to herself so Dara could enjoy their time there.

Maybe today was just too much, overall after seeing how Dara had reacted upon having that Benjamin guy over dinner with them all.

"No, no, no, she's just busy," even when Carla's voice was a bit happy-go-lucky, Bruno's scowl said that there was something else behind. "And tired, that's all."

Carla still didn't know how stubborn could Bullie get, unfortunately, let alone when Dara was involved. She needed to cut everything by the root the moment it started to bother her girl, she didn't make the rules.

"Well, you can lie to her all you want," Billie said, a match lightening inside her chest, while pushing the kitchen's door to shut it close. "And she's going to let you if she noticed, but not me. What's going on?" she asked it with the voice she usually used on set. "Since the second that guy was in her view, Annie's been all shook up, and I don't like that because we're supposed to be on vacation, away from any headache."

Billie didn't miss how Bruno looked at her, a proud glint in his eyes, when she crossed her arms under her chest and looked at Carla with all the courage she had gathered up in a matter of seconds.

God bless coffee for being so slow to be brewed.

"You can't tell my daughter about it, okay?" Fucking bingo, thought Billie when Carla finally gave in, looking at her to get a nod in response. "Did she talk to you about Benjamin before?" Negative, Billie shook her head. "He's her ex-boyfriend...and he's now dating Dayanara."

…

Dara had her eyes closed, trying to focus in how her father's heart beat, all while listening to him hum along the song that was currently playing.

They managed to get the music going and she was just too tired, hoping that Billie could free herself from her mother's hands soon, but her father had pulled her to dance with him.

She couldn't say no and she preferred to be occupied with something instead of leaving room to Benjamin to talk to her again. Dara was still trying to wrap her head around why he was there and, as much as she wanted, there was something buried deep inside her chest that stopped her from start a third degree interrogatory right away.

“...Y si en sueños pudiera volar, yo llegaría hasta ti,” her dad started to actually sing and Dara smiled, still her eyes closed. “Para entonces hacerte escuchar, lo que nunca te pude decir…” Dara giggled when he switched to humming again and it drew a low laugh from Jeziel.

“¿Ya te olvidas de tus canciones favoritas, viejito?” she asked in a mumble, letting herself be held better by her father. At times, more often than not these days, she missed the feeling of protectiveness being in his arms gave her.

“Ya sabes que nunca las aprendí del todo mami,” Jeziel smiled and kissed the back of her head, still swaying to the rhythm of the ballad.

“So lucky mommy loves you, you’re such a romantic,” she shook her head and tightened her hug.

“Sometimes I think she still loves me because I’m strong enough to move stuff around, like, I still got the guns and all,” Dara felt her father flex his arms a bit, making her roll her eyes because he still called his muscles like that. She felt how her father left his hand in her hair, carefully brushing her soft locks. “I like when you let your hair grow, makes me remember when you were home.”

Maybe that was why she didn’t like it, because it made her remember of all the things she didn’t want to relive, but sometimes she kept postponing going to the hairdresser when she was too busy and her head too full of thoughts. Which was kinda why it was getting longer these days without her caring much about it.

Spying through her eyelashes, she looked right at Benjamin, who was one of the reasons of why she did things differently these days.

“It makes me remember home as well,” Dara mumbled, hiding from her father that they remembered different things. “But I probably cut it once I’m back.”

“Ay no, mi niña, espérese a después de mi cumpleaños,” Jeziel pressed his hand a bit on Dara’s head, chuckling in that warm way he had. “Deme ese pequeño regalo, siempre te viste linda con tu pelito largo.”

“Okay, okay,” Dara sighed a laugh and looked at her father in the eyes finally, kissing his cheek fondly. Two months more of having long hair, she could do it...she thought. “But that’s your gift and that’s it, no more,” it wasn’t like a Dara had her father’s gift bought five months prior or else. “And you have to promise to make your chocolate cake for only us two and have a Rush Hour marathon...mojitos included.”

“None haggle like you, Anita,” Jeziel kissed her daughter’s forehead with love and tenderness. “You got a deal, but do you think Billie likes Rush Hour? Maybe we can let her have some cake and mojitos too.”

If Dara felt still uneasy, having her father to express curiosity and even show initiative towards Billie was a direct shot to her heart. Since the moment she told them she was dating Billie, her family except for her grandfather, Darziel and Gemma had been a bit...hesitant towards her. That in...seven years she didn’t show up much didn’t help her case, but she was taking steps forward and that seemed to have helped Dara’s family to also get interested, to want to get involved.

And that was the only thing Dara ever wanted since she knew she wanted to be with Billie as long as possible.

“Who do you think watch shitty movies with me back in Los Angeles? Dahlia?” that made father and daughter laugh, because Dahlia hated movies like those. “Billie sticks with me every time I get int-”

“Perdón,” Benjamin’s voice cut the father-daughter moment like a hot knife over butter. “¿Puedo...bailar con Ana, señor Jeziel?”

Dara felt her father’s hesitation in the way he didn’t stop from holding her, like he used to do when they were dating, and then the soft look in his face. Dara was the one between her siblings that resembled his father the most, her mother always joking that even as a days-old-baby she could pick point her from a bunch of other babies easily. So Jeziel got back the soft look he was giving, the permission Benjamin was asking for being given by his own daughter in the form of a tiny kiss on the cheek before his daughter turned around in his arms to put both her hands in the man’s shoulders.

His attention was drawn, however, by Eva wanting to dance with her grandfather and Dara was left with the source of her stress, who was trying to just mimic the way Jeziel was holding her daughter seconds ago.

Dara felt her body react like a ghost of what she was once. Forearms over Benjamin’s shoulders with her hands intertwined, Benjamin’s hands folded in her lower back and both looking into each other eyes with dozens of nights, days, noons spent together being there like a faint memory.

It felt like they were seventeen again.

Eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two and their love stronger than ever...yet they both were there, thirty-two and sharing space after ten years since the last time they touched each other, seven years since the last time they heard each other’s voices.

“I was being sincere back there, you still look beautiful,” it was a shy approach from him but Dara thanked it the same, because she was a bit speechless. “Thought a bit skinnier than I remember.”

“All my baby fat finally went from everywhere to my thighs and tits, what can I say? Still got some in my hands, though,” Dara couldn’t help but feel a tiny fire in her chest, full knowing Benjamin was picking at her and falling, making him laugh. “But I was sincere too, Min, you look nice even when I feel you’re wearing someone else’s skin.”

“Well...I thought it was time to make a big change once and for all, look nice and sharp, y’know?” that face that she once found so kissable didn’t change, the soft smirk on his lips, the rise and fall of his eyebrows. “Lena dragged my ass so hard after getting out that I kinda indulged in some brother-sister bonding time that ended up with me looking like one of these modern kids.”

“Your little sister won’t ever change...nor you do; she says ‘go’ and you say ‘where’,” Dara rolled her eyes at hearing, once again, her ex-sister-in-law’s antics. “How are you handling everything?”

Dara didn’t want to address the elephant in the room so soon, but it was better this way now that he kind of mentioned it. She felt her voice soften because six and a half years in jail wasn’t something easy to talk about, Benjamin’s features softening as well.

“It’s weird, not gonna lie in here, but these months are teaching me new things...and also making me think about some others,” he made that tiny gesture with his nose that indicated his cheek was itching and Dara’s hand went there to ease him, leaving it now in his shoulder while her other arm circled his neck. “Can you believe Godo approached me?”

That was something that ignited her from the pit of her stomach, raw anger destroying whatever coherent thing she was about to say and going full protection mode.

“Min, don’t te-”

“I spit on his feet the second he was a meter from me, your father and your uncle saw me,” Dara felt Benjamin reassuringly caressing her lower back with his thumbs. “I’m not going back Ana, I’m trying to do something meaningful with my life...not going back with those that left me behind,” his smile was sad and full of hurt and all the anger that Dara was feeling settled in uneasiness. “You were always right, I still don’t know how you put up with all of it...and I’m sorry what it did to you, to us.”

Those words were ten years late, still made her heart ache with all the resentment she never managed to wash away.

“Someone had to protect you,” Dara shrugged, Benjamin taking her hand in his and pressing it in his chest, against where his heartbeat was going steady and where he had tattooed the same moon as Dara had under her right collarbone. Dara knew her ex was feeling her rings, her crooked fingers from a handful of times she broke them in a street fight when they were younger. “And I’m not drunk enough to have this full conversation, Min...not that I can get wasted now, anyway, mix of pills I became.”

“Viejita te me volviste,” Benjamin didn’t seem to mind that Dara didn’t want to follow that conversation, but both knew someday they’d have it and they were okay with that for the time being.

“It’s not my fault this house became like an animal shelter, okay? My allergy skyrocketed in between Diana and her cats, Deirdre and her dog, my parents with Zeus...santo niño Jesús, give me a rest,” it wasn’t that Dara hated animals, she loved them in fact, but her allergy to animal fur...not goodie at all. “If my leg wasn’t acting up like a bitch, I would give the vodka a try,” she chuckled at that and a voice in her head nagged her because she also took one more of those. “But we have what we have.”

“It’s okay with me as long it’s okay with you,” Benjamin looked troubled for a second. “When my mother told me about the accident, it scared the shit out of me...watching you with that cane didn’t help to put me at ease at all.”

Two years had passed since the car accident but some days Dara still recalled it as if it was yesterday.

“Rehabilitation wasn’t enough, the limp will always be there as an effect, but I do prefer the limp over not having leg at all,” it was a too hardcore way to put it, but Dara always was direct like that. “Shit happens, Min.”

“I know but…” the hurt in his eyes was much deeper than Dara could think. “The thought of you alone in a hospital bed...it hunts me at times.”

Dara felt that last sentence like a glitch in the somewhat calm moment, deafening her for a second and her eyes straying from Benjamin’s face to where the kitchen door was opening, her mother, her grandfather and Billie coming back with the coffee, tea and whatever her mother was also getting ready. She kept swaying with Min but her whole skeleton wanted to escape, to take Billie by her hand and go upstairs, hide in the room and forget this night by drowning herself in between her lover’s thighs...as vulgar as that sounded.

“I wasn’t alone,” her voice was so faint that it hurted somehow. “Billie watched over me, she never left my side.”

While saying that Dara saw Billie freeze halfway to the living room’s table, locking eyes with her. Billie’s expression resembled a deer caught in the headlights and somehow the sensation of getting away from Benjamin got worse, as if his mere contact was like embers. Dara silently looked at her in search of an answer of sorts, Billie opening and closing her mouth ever so slightly and looking away from her.

Was that tea in her hands?

“Your partner, yeah,” Dara couldn’t tell what kind of feeling Benjamin wanted to convey, her own emotions building up, overwhelmed. Mockery, sadness, resentment, knowledge, she didn’t know, she didn’t want to know. “The ultra nice blondie, with the medium thing going. Your mother told me about her. If I didn’t know you better, I would have thought she was having a fling with you or something.”

Billie wanted to break the cup of tea in her hands against Benjamin’s head, that was for sure, but right in that moment she was a bundle of mixed feelings after what Carla had told her in the privacy of the kitchen.

She had seen Dara dancing with Nora multiple times, even hummed along the song they were dancing to, but it didn’t wake up the same feeling that the image in front of her was at the moment. She truly wanted to have the strength to pick up Dara in her arms, going full bridal style and take her upstairs, or somewhere entirely else to drown in being the two of them alone. There was no cigarette able to calm her right now, not even one of Audrey’s joints would help at all.

But there was something in Dara, the way her face was one of pure pain and surprise at the same time, that didn’t sit right. She seemed to be withdrawing from Benjamin as the seconds passed by and Billie’s eyes went to how the rest didn’t seem to notice the change in Dara at all.

It was then when the front door opened, keys clinking muffled thanks to the music, and the last Lynch arrived at the house.

No, this can’t be.

She thought that with her heart twisting in her chest painfully, seeing how Dayanara looked as mortified as Benjamin apparently but being more subtle about it. Billie didn’t need to read minds to know that Dayanara perfectly knew her boyfriend didn’t say shit to her sister or the rest did. They were all acting normal and her face showed clearly how tired, angered and confused she was. Billie felt Bruno by her side, taking from her hands the cup of tea she had ready for Dara, and leaving it over the table while letting his free hand to rest in the middle of her back. A silent support, she supposed.

“Daya!” Carla was trying too hard to cover her own surprise by being happy about her arrival. “I’ll heat you up some food, go get change and-”

“Mamá, por favor, cállate,” Billie didn’t need to understand spanish to fully know what was said by how Dayanara pinched the bridge of her nose after pulling up in her head her glasses, leaving her bag over a chair. She was still wearing her nurse uniform. “I’m too tired to handle this right now but I’m going to rip off the band-aid once and for all, and fuck everything.”

“What’s going on?” it wasn’t ‘what are you talking about?’ what came from Dara’s lips and Billie already expected her to say that because as much as she liked to be direct, Dara only asked for the same at the end of the day.

“Benji and I have been dating for four months, that’s what’s going on,” Billie felt herself shiver at how similar Dara and Dayanara’s features were when angry. “I wanted to tell you right away, talk to you face to face, but between both being busy and all...well, I expected to tell you after dinner today. Thought he was going to start the conversation since I got stuck at work, but it seems he didn’t.”

The tension in the living room was heavier than how it was at the Montgomery’s mansion, Billie starting to feel a soft static tickling her skin as if it was some kind of warning that everything could go to shit from one second to another.

Dara wasn’t going to explode as her family thought, right?

That was what Carla told her in the kitchen, the motive behind why they all had been hiding all of that from her. Carla told her that Dara would get angry and messy upon knowing that her ex was dating her little sister, but Billie had stepped forward to counter that, tell her...mother-in-law that Dara was pretty down on Earth and calm upon facing any kind of issue, always working her way through it with a control that even her wished to have.

Darziel looked between his older sisters, worried sick, while Deirdre and Diana looked to each other first and then to both Dayanara and Dara, as if they were going to get into a fight or something. Dayanara stood where she was, like an immovable force, but Dara…

...Billie never saw Dara so defenceless.

However, that defencelessness went away the moment Dara smiled brightly at her little sister, throwing off everyone in the room with the force of an earthquake.

“That’s...God, Daya!” Dara laughed and walked towards her little sister, who noticed right away how she was limping heavier and met her halfway, getting hugged in the process. “I’m so happy for you two! Now it makes sense that he’s here,” Dara flickered her fingers towards Benjamin. “It was my fault for not coming home earlier so we could talk, don’t worry,” then she looked at her mother before taking her cane, which was resting against the table, before lacing her fingers with Dayanara’s. “Let’s get you some food and you can tell me some details, if it’s okay with you.”

Annie, what are you doing? Billie wanted to scream that on top of her lungs, confused as she was, while the rest of the house seemed to start breathing at ease upon seeing such reaction from her. Bruno did seem to think the same as her, but there was something in his eyes that told Billie this kind of reaction wasn’t a one time thing.

“It...is,” Dayanara was getting back from the shock, nodding and starting to walk along Dara towards the kitchen. “We can always talk more over breakfast.”

“Of course, of course,” Dara chuckled and leant to kiss her sister’s temple with love. “Gossip over pancakes, best gossip, right?”

Billie didn’t care how Jeziel seemed to stop Benjamin from following them, didn’t care that the rest went back to their things, didn’t care when Bruno led her towards the couch so they could sit together and monopolize it.

But she did care about how Dara had gone, somehow, where Billie was still both too afraid and too confused to follow her.

...

When a nausea wave hit her once again, making her empty whatever was left at that point in her stomach, Dara thanked to her five-minutes-past self to have opened the shower to make the most background noise possible.

It wasn’t weird at all that someone got showered at the wee hours of the night in the house at summer, so she saved her own ass with that.

For sure heat didn’t help at all, she thought as she put a hand over her sweaty forehead, waiting in case she threw up again. Not that there was something else left but bile, but who knew what her body was going to decide. She laughed to herself, thinking in how in other scenery that could make her go bananas and think she was pregnant or something, instead of just having such anxiety attack like the one she was having in that very same moment.

God, sometimes her mind went to some weird places in those situations.

Drenched in sweat as she was, she made a quick work by flossing the toilet and get in the shower after peeling off her pajamas, taking advantage that it was already turned on. Cold water made her feel better, settling little by little the hole her anxiety was craving in her stomach. With tears pushing for freedom in her eyes, Dara tried to think about anything else to calm her racing mind. Like how everyone had decided stay at the house, how funny it looked the way Deirdre and Diana managed to both get the sofa-bed and their husbands took the cold hard floor by their side. Darziel, Gemma and Eva slept in Darziel’s room, the girls taking the bed while he threw some pillows to the floor and built a nest-like bed for him. Dayanara and Benjamin went to Daya’s room and Dara’s mind made a double spin to avoid thinking more about that.

She was glad Billie and her got the tiny guest room-made-office for themselves.

Wrapping her hair in a towel and drying herself enough to get back in her clothes, Dara made her new task be brush her teeth the best she could. She had rinsed her mouth several times before going down to the kitchen to get some water, her throat still burning, but the stupid bad taste didn’t seem to go away. Dara went through the fridge to get some juice instead, and when she found one she actually didn’t like much - she wasn’t risking her favourites to get ruined because of this - she sat there with the window open, drinking right from the bottle while getting some fresh air to clear her head.

In her head everything seem to go really fast, almost disorganized, but whoever watched her from the outside could clearly see how slow and careful she was moving.

She was the best at pretending everything was fine, to hold it in until she was alone to let it all flow, but having a full house didn’t help her at all. And of course this wasn’t some stupid argument between her siblings or with her mother, so it only got worse from then on. Dara wasn’t having an anxiety attack because it overwhelmed her the news per se, but because she was reliving all the memories from her time by Benjamin so hard that made her want to slap some sense into Dayanara, tell her to break up with him and find her someone in Los Angeles, someone probably better under her own point of view…

...but what was the point, after all.

Nothing Dara could say would make her sister change her opinion and she didn’t want to influence her in anyway possible, because her own experience didn’t have to be her sister’s right?

Ten years had passed, ten fucking years! Whatever she knew about Benjamin was literally thrown away into the garbage can because she didn’t know that man anymore, how he was now, how he acted now, his aspirations, whatever.

She only knew the ghost of what he was once...and it was the other way around as well.

The way he talked about Billie didn’t help him at all, the rejection was immediate as if he had slapped instead of throwing around some stupid words. If I didn’t know you better, I would have thought she was having a fling with you or something. Dara had to close her eyes because the nausea was about to hit her again, that or an unstoppable flood of tears. It felt wrong hearing that, as if Dara herself was nothing but a game for someone like Billie. How could he even dare to tell her that when he didn’t have the balls to tell her that he was dating Dayanara? He didn’t know her at all, for God’s sake!

So fucking horrible, wasn’t it?

Dara’s eyes wandered around the kitchen, trying to tone down the awful feeling in her chest by focusing in the kitchen of her childhood. All she could see was a time that she wasn’t happy...and she wasn’t thinking about being five to ten and running around with the laugh of her grandparents as music, she was thinking of her teens, her early twenties and how one day she packed all she had in the middle of the night, took her shitty ass car - that would get wrecked eight years later in the accident - and drove all the way to Los Angeles to take a wild chance on life.

A leap of faith that made her feel she still had something to do in life.

Her eyes finally landed in the only light bright enough to make a difference in the somewhat dark kitchen aside the fridge one and Dara’s stomach churned. They will always have landline, till the end of times, she thought while hobbling to take the wireless phone. Navigating through the agenda, Dara felt immediately guilty about what she was about to do but she needed to talk with someone that wasn’t in the mess at all.

Or that she hoped.

She knew well, deep inside, that she had had to wake up Billie for that but she didn’t have the heart to do so when her partner managed to get a hold of a night of sleep. Even more when it took several glasses of rum to take her down completely. Dara didn’t want to think about the hangover her father, Billie and Berto would have upon waking up, her own stomach hurting even more for them. So her thumb pressed lightly the button to select the number in the agenda, letting herself to think once again if it was the right choice overall.

Dara, while pressing the phone against her ear and sitting back in the chair, made a mental note to live a fifty dollars bill in her mother’s purse later in the morning.

“¿Abuelo?” the sleepy and heavy accented voice of a woman sounded in the other side of the line. “Ah...no.” was the only thing Dara managed to croak in response and the woman sighed heavily, whoever was by her side grumbling something in their sleep. “¿Tata Carla? ¿Qué lo que pasó? Incluso para usted es temprano.” the woman seemed to start functioning and Dara choked on an incoming sob because she didn’t want to overworry her. “It’s me, Dara, sorry for waking you up so early,” that seemed to restart the woman, whose voice was pure confusion now. “Dara? What are you doing calling me from your parents’? What are you doing even there?” sometimes Dara forgot that her cousin was a bit out of touch of everything, so it wasn’t something new to see that she didn’t read the family group chat. “I’m on vacation here...but I was calling you because…” Dara felt the uncomfortable warmth of tears in her cheeks and she couldn’t help but sniff a bit to hold another sob, even when her voice broke. “I don’t know Dani, I needed someone to talk with I guess,” Dara pressed her free hand, which was shaking, against her own chest. “But if I’m bothering you I can call later, I know it’s stupid, you should probably go back to sleep...You must be tired from work and all, I’m so-” Being shushed by Danielle wasn’t harsh, but it was what Dara needed to start crying a bit harder. “You won’t ever be a bother, not even if you tried, so don’t apologize. Just let me get down to the kitchen to not wake Bastien, okay? Take some deep breaths, mon mimi.”

Dara only managed to whisper an ‘okay’ while pressing her wrist to her eyes, trying to stop her about to be runny nose to do as she was told. She tried to focus on her breathing, but her throat still itched and hurt, so imagine the mess. Muffling her coughs against her forearm, Dara instead tried to focus in whatever sound Danielle was making in the other side of the line while her tears ran freely down her cheeks.

She was also repeating herself there, because ten years had passed too since before leaving her parents’ house forever she called her oldest cousin to get some sort of support. Twenty-two to twenty-nine, thirty-two to thirty-nine, the only thing that had changed was that her cousin didn’t have a two years old baby anymore but a twelve years old girl that probably didn’t remember Dara that well and that Danielle’s beautiful black mane was getting too many white hairs too soon.

“Okay, I’m here,” Danielle’s voice was gentle and warm. “You want to tell me before, after or in between the crying?”

Dara decided the last option because, as always, it was the best to get as much as she could out of her chest.

…

Billie didn’t know how she got downstairs alive, but she did it somehow without breaking her neck.

Maybe it wasn’t that good of idea getting hammered with her father-in-law and brother-in-law last night, probably not her best performance, but what was done, done was. Rubbing her eyes a bit and not getting her hand smudged with make-up - Dara probably removed it when she was asleep or she convinced her drunk ass to do it somehow - was a good start, but overhearing the cheery voices coming from the television gave her headache an uncomfortable push.

How late did she wake up? Not that they had much to do, anyway, but oversleeping was hard in her in-law’s house. Her eyes went to the clock over the kitchen door, the bright red numbers telling her right away that it was midday. That sobered her up a bit, but what actually made her react was realizing the living room wasn’t that illuminated.

The curtains were almost closed except for a crack, enough to cast light over where Bruno was reading the newspaper. Her eyes then went to the television, some cartoon movie playing for Ezra, Eduardo and Evan, who were behaving themselves pretty well for being what probably was the hour when their energy should be at its peak, and then Billie discovered why they were so quiet aside of trying not to bother their great-grandfather morning reading.

Dara was there in the couch with them, long as she was, and the boys were sitting there too in a way that Billie didn’t know how could any of the four of them could be comfortable, except for maybe Eduardo that was lying over Dara, with his head in her chest. Evan and Ezra were sitting in between her legs, their tiny ones draped over Dara’s right leg as if it was some kind of a leg-rest or something. The funniest part was that Dara was heavy asleep, making Billie to think if maybe the heat didn’t let her sleep last night and was making up for it now.

That or maybe the stress from yesterday hit her like a truck.

“Morning,” Billie mumbled, raising her hand. The boys waved at her and Bruno looked up from his newspaper, all in silence. “Where’s everyone?”

“Jeziel and Berto in the kitchen, trying to get breakfast before my daughter comes from getting groceries with Deirdre, Diana and Eva,” explained Bruno without raising his voice much. “Abe, Daya and motor-kid to work, papito God knows where with Gemita.”

“Oh, okay,” Billie got closer to Dara and she leant with care to kiss her forehead and cheek with love, only getting a soft comfortable hum in response and making Billie lick her lips a bit, refraining herself to kiss her in the lips but noticing something along the way, like some kind of saltiness in Dara’s skin that Billie only blamed to sweating too much. “She must be really tired, I didn’t see her sleep so soundly in a while.”

“Must be, dear,” and with that, Bruno got back to his reading, the kids never getting their attention drawn from the film. “Go get some pancakes before they butchered them all, Anita made them.”

She obeyed without much thought, her brain still fuzzy with the hangover, but when she sat with coffee and the last two pancakes in the tray by the men in the kitchen table everything felt a bit more homier. It was the first day Dara wasn’t getting breakfast with her, who always was the one saving her from the morning chatter, but she was lucky enough to share breakfast with the other two hangover people in the house...so she got some quiet time sprinkled with some ‘pass me this’ or ‘pass me that’.

Nonetheless, the quietness of the morning helped her greatly to finally think about what could she get Dara for their seventh anniversary.

And she really hoped that her gift, along a pretty deserved night only the two of them, could make Dara feel a bit better and take her mind off the whole mess that ensued last night in the very same living room she was sleeping so peacefully in.

#billie dean howard x original character #dara ann lynch #billie dean howard #original character #ahs hotel #ahs murder house #american horror story

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elisaphoenix13 · 4 years

Text

A Half Day

It was probably a bad idea.

Okay, it was a terrible idea.

But Stephen needed a day off. From everything. Sorcerer Supreme duties, parenting, being a doctor, being a housewife, being a husband (he was pretty sure he heard someone make the correction of 'wife' from the other side of the ocean)...and really...doing everything. By the Vishanti, he practically parented the Avengers too! They came to him for a lot of issues or to patch them up, he's stopped three attempted food fights this month, and he had to stop Quill and Bucky from taking some of Harley and Peter's jokes seriously.

Like the one where Peter said he had to jump off the roof and Harley told him to do a flip.

Stephen was tired, and actually willing to risk leaving Valerie with her father (and everyone else) just so he could have more than an hour of peace. Tony was capable of raising a baby, but at the same time, half of their friends had been gone so no one bothered him. Now the tower was full again, plus Quill, and the god himself was part of the problem. With Valerie. Natasha was another part of it. Those two were constantly fighting over the baby--

Why was he thinking about this? Stephen did not remove his nanotech (with the knowledge that he would be getting an earful from Tony when he got home) and leave his phone behind just to spend his day off thinking about the chaos back home. Nope. He came to France for a quiet cup of tea that he could finish before it got cold and eat all the croissants he could stomach in one sitting. He even pulled out cash before coming so Tony couldn't track him if he used the card.

He did leave a note for his husband before he left early this morning (New York time), and simply wrote that he would be back soon. That was about two hours ago. A nice two hours of two cups of tea and probably about three or four croissants, and then he paid for his meal before walking around the streets of Paris. He took in the sights, breathed in the fresh air, and enjoyed the fact that he didn't have to grab his children's shirts to keep them from toppling over the bridge into the water below. Harley and Peter would have probably made a bet to see who could lean over furthest before falling or chickening out (Peter of course not allowed to use his spider grip), and Diana would either call them dummies or push one of them over.

With how much time she spent with Cassie, the boys still seemed to be rubbing off on her in all the worst ways. Then again, Cassie would do the same thing...maybe the young girl had a bigger part in raising Diana than Stephen initially thought. Maybe raising wasn't the right word though.

"I can't even go an hour without thinking about the kids." Stephen mumbles to himself.

Or anything else for that matter. He was having a hard time enjoying his peace when all he could think about was the doubtless disaster waiting for him at home already. He could visualize it now. Diana probably smuggled glitter into the tower and made more glitter bombs for Harley to shoot throughout the tower (and at Quill since Stephen was positive his oldest had a death wish), Peter with his webs, Tony and Tibbs down in the lab ignoring the disaster the kids and the team were creating, and Valerie was probably being pawned off between Avengers.

Athena was out of the overall equation since she was currently walking around Paris with him, and while they got some curious glances, they weren't bothered since the wolf stuck firmly to Stephen's side. She never ran off after stray animals or barked at other dogs that other people were out on walks with...she always waited for Stephen's permission and it still left him appalled. He only ever used magic to communicate with her the one time when she first came home with them, but she still ignored her instincts. Of course, if anyone or anything was a threat, that was an entirely different story. If Stephen was attacked, Athena would pounce without command. If there was a threat, she got defensive until Stephen commanded her.

Athena really was Stephen's.

"I guess a few hours for myself is better than nothing." Stephen muses aloud and looks down at the white wolf. "Might as well get the cubs souvenirs and get you some meat before we head home."

The sorcerer heads back toward the shops and commands Athena to stay outside while he goes into a butcher's shop, and after paying for the wolf's meal and asking the owner not to bother wrapping it, he carries it out by the paper it's sitting on. Stephen leans over to set it on the ground in front of Athena and quietly praises her for waiting patiently, and pets her head before leaving her to her lunch. She would remain in the spot by the bench while he went into a nearby cafe and ordered some crepes to go (for the kids), and also grabbed some coffee beans for Tony. A favorite of his that could only be found in France and that he had run out of a week ago.

Tony had been too absentminded to ask FRIDAY to order more coffee. He just moved on to the remains of other coffee beans he had sitting around. At least these would help pacify his husband's wrath to some degree. Tony had a billion and one reasons to worry about Stephen's and their children's safety...and even the rest of the team. The team acting as and being a family was spreading around the world (and some parts of the universe because of their battle with Thanos...and Quill's temper), and while some of the people with less than savory intentions thought twice and backed off, there were still a few morons.

Stephen buys the coffee and leaves the shop to return to Athena and he throws away the paper the meat had been sitting on into the nearest waste bin. He then motions for the wolf to follow as he slips out of sight to open a portal back home, and they barely step through when Harley snatches the bag of crepes as he runs past. Peter dashes after him, no doubt smelling the crepes, and they stumble into the kitchen where Dia and Cassie had been making something (thankfully glitter seemed to be absent) and they put it aside when Harley unloads the crepes for them.

Well the kids were easily taken care of with food, but how much of the disaster had the tower turned into in the few hours that Stephen had been gone? He looks around to assess the damage that had been done…

...but there was none.

It was as clean as he had left it that morning. The only thing different was that Tony was passed out on the couch with their youngest sleeping peacefully on his chest. Even while the engineer snored. The fact that the tower was clean and his husband was sleeping made Stephen start to wonder if perhaps he accidentally stepped into the wrong dimension. A few inconspicuous spells only proved that he was in the right place and Stephen looked around the floor some more. Kids eating at the table, Tony and baby daughter sleeping on the couch, Tibbs curled up with Athena on the floor...wait.

Some of the Avengers were sprawled out on the living room floor too. Quill was snoring (purring) on his back, and Scott was using his stomach as a pillow as he and Sam watched tv and Bucky threw popcorn at them from one of the couches. Steve sat next to the soldier drawing in a sketchbook, and Clint and Natasha were playing cards...how did Stephen miss them?

Probably because it wasn't the usual disaster. Everyone was quiet and everything was clean.

"Oh, hey Mama Bear. You're home a lot earlier than we expected." Sam says from his reclined position against one of Quill's bent legs.

"I...was expecting a mess to clean up." Stephen admits.

"Tony initiated the 'Mom Needs A Break' protocol." Bucky explains and the sorcerer blinks at him.

"There's a protocol for that?"

"You're married to him. You should know by now that there's a protocol for everything." Scott says. "There's even a protocol for when this guy goes berserk and I'm not home." He smacks the back of his hand against Quill's shoulder who doesn't even flinch and just keeps snoozing.

"Beast Mode Protocol." Tony elaborates sleepily as he looks at his watch. "You're back early tesoro."

Stephen sighs as he walks into the living room and retrieves his waking infant daughter off of the engineer. "All I did was think about the kids and the possible disaster I would come home to. I did enjoy two cups of hot tea though." He drops the bag of coffee beans into Tony's lap when he sits up and the older man grins.

"France? I'll pretend you didn't leave behind your tech and phone this time."

"How compassionate." Stephen teases and steals a kiss after his husband stands up. "Where are you going?"

"Down to the lab to make you tech that you can't remove. Come on furball." Tony heads over to the elevator as Tibbs unfurls himself from Athena's side and follows the billionaire into the elevator.

"I remember a time when Tibbs was my cat." Peter grumbles from the kitchen when the elevator doors close.

Stephen only smiles as he joins the kids in the kitchen and sets Valerie in her high chair. There was no heat behind Peter's words. Tibbs may spend time with Tony in the lab whenever he was down there, but he always slept in Peter's room every night. All of the cat's things were still in the teen's room, and he had originally belonged to Peter anyway. Tibbs just liked everyone. Their alpaca Gerald...and even Athena, a dangerous predator. He truly was a cat that didn't care.

"When's the last time your sister ate?" Stephen asks the kids, and Cassie was surprisingly the one who answered.

"Bucky fed her some cereal about three hours ago."

"I'm still convinced there's some of that in my arm!" The man calls from the living room.

"Buck, just go down to the lab and ask Tony to take a look." Steve says with a chuckle.

Stephen grabs a jar of baby food from the cupboard as Bucky relents and disappears onto the elevator and the doctor sits in a chair in front of the high chair. The moment Stephen fed her a small spoonful of pureed apples and blueberries, she was eating it so fast that he barely pulled the spoon away from her mouth before she was opening it again for more. Valerie loved fruit and it was always the least messiest meal, unlike the attempt to feed her pureed green beans. She was always a quiet baby, but if anyone put green beans anywhere near her...she threw a fit. Quill had been the one to figure that out the hard way. Stephen had his hands full that day and the celestial offered to help feed Valerie, so the sorcerer gave him the jar of green beans to feed her.

Stephen happened to watch that first spoonful disappear into Valerie's mouth, and then the look of pure betrayal appeared on her face. Betrayal because her Uncle Quill fed her that atrocious toxic waste and was trying to feed her a second spoonful. The god took a green bean shower that day, and Stephen made a mental note to keep green beans off the list of pureed vegetables to feed her.

Thankfully she liked everything else fed to her.

So far.

"Thanks for the crepes, Mom!" The boys jump up from their seats and toss the to go containers into the trash before they also disappear onto the elevator.

"I remember a time when they liked to cuddle." Stephen sighs heavily as he feeds the last of the fruit to Valerie.

"I could use some Mama Bear cuddles." Cassie says. "Papa Bear cuddles are great and all but his are more secure while yours are comforting."

"Me too!" Diana chimes in. "I want Mama Bear cuddles in a pillow fort!"

Stephen smirks. "You better get Uncle Quill to move then."

"Pfft. That's easy." Diana waves her hand at her mother. "He's like you."

"Like m--?" The doctor starts to ask until the little girl screams.

The sorcerer hears Scott and Sam squawk as the snoring suddenly stops, and he watches in mild amusement as Quill vaults over the couch closest to the kitchen. The celestial stumbles over to the girls and looks around for whatever is threatening Diana, and when he finds nothing, he narrows his eyes.

"What were you screaming for?"

"We needed you to move so me and Cassie can build a pillow fort and cuddle with Mommy."

Quill rubs his eyes. "You could have just asked."

"Well that's no fun." Stephen says with a smirk.

"Just for that, I'm sleeping in your bed." The celestial turns and makes his way up the stairs toward the master bedroom.

The doctor laughs. "Go sleep in your own bed!"

"Nope! Too late!" Quill disappears into the bedroom and Stephen looks at his daughter.

"No more of that unless you're really in trouble."

"I promise."

"Good. Now go build a fort."

#mama bear au #mama bear stephen strange #stephen strange #tony stark #harley keener #peter parker #diana stark strange (oc)#valerie stark strange (oc)#cassie lang #peter quill #scott lang #antlord #sam wilson #steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky

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zecretsanta · 4 years

Text

Fic: A Long Drive Home

to: @electric016

from: @gyaxaofficial

Merry Christmas Jinger!!!!!! I’m so happy to have had the chance to write the best OT4 on Earth. I tried to incorporate some of your other prompts and/or headcanons, too. I hope you enjoy!

Their kitchen is quiet. The only sounds are the cat purring gently from his spot beneath a chair, oyster sauce boiling gently on the stove, and the rhythmic noises of Akane and Junpei dicing up cabbage and carrots by the sink. It certainly doesn’t look peaceful, however: all their ingredients are sprawled out on the table, there’s a light dusting of flour over nearly every flat surface in the room (including Akane’s cheeks), and the garbage can is already almost full with the evidence of their first failed attempt at making dough.

“Next time I suggest doing this,” Junpei says after a few minutes of busy silence, “just remind me that there’s a perfectly good takeout restaurant down the street, okay?”

Akane doesn’t turn to look at him, but he can hear the cheeky grin in her voice. “I tried, but you said yourself that it just doesn’t taste—”

“—authentic, yeah, I know. I’m gonna kick past me’s ass later for having good taste.” Junpei leans back against the opposite countertop, watching the Saturday afternoon sunlight play across Akane’s shoulder blades as she works. “Hey, are you sure you should be doing that? I seem to recall that you didn’t get much sleep…”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replies, singsong.

“You don’t remember? Because I’m pretty sure I remember waking up at 3 A.M. to pee and you were still scrolling through Wikipedia on your phone.”

Akane whips around to look at him, jaw dropped in an exaggerated pout. “That was important reading, okay! Did you know the most recent reported sighting of the Men in Black was—”

“What, the movie?”

“No, the real ones, silly. It was just last year!” She lowers her voice ominously, pointing the tip of the knife toward Junpei. “And who knows what happened to that guy?”

“Whoa, okay, can you put that down?”

“Oh, sorry.” She gingerly places the knife on the table. The muscles in Junpei’s shoulders relax a little. “Anyway, promise me that if a strange old man in a suit ever comes to our door asking about aliens, play dumb and don’t tell a soul, got it?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He sidles up next to her and kisses the top of her head, then picks up the knife to resume work on the vegetables. Akane begrudgingly scoots over to let him stand by the cutting board, turning her attention to her phone instead. He hears a pensive hmmm. “Any updates?”

“None.”

A thoughtful pause as Junpei tries to think of something reassuring to tell her. “I’m sure he’s fine. He’s got a long drive.”

Beside him, Akane kneels down to the floor to pet the cat gently behind the ears. “Too long.”

—

Carlos drums his fingers against the steering wheel, worrying at his lower lip. Another moment passes in standstill traffic and he decides to turn the radio up louder to drown out the horns blaring around him.

He’s barely an hour into the six-hour drive from San Francisco to Los Angeles, and if this is how it’s gonna go, it’ll probably stretch into seven or eight. He keeps considering picking up his phone to send Akane and Junpei a quick text explaining the situation, but his law-abiding firefighter brain keeps stopping him.

This is the first New Year’s Eve he’s spent out of the hospital in eleven years (not counting the one at D-Com), and it’s painfully clear to him now that he’d underestimated the holiday traffic patterns. The same anxious voice in the back of his head is now reminding him that he could be back at home with Maria instead of spending half the day alone in his truck. They could spend the evening taking down the Christmas tree that she’d insisted they keep up for a few extra days just because it’s the first time in a decade that they’ve had one, and Carlos could still be keeping a watchful eye on her in case she collapsed again. She’s made astonishing progress in physical therapy, but her muscles had atrophied over all those years lying in bed and her full strength still hasn’t quite returned.

But Maria had encouraged him to go, in that gentle-yet-firm way of hers. Every excuse he could possibly come up with, she’d already covered behind his back. A family friend had promised to come check on her regularly, his boss at the fire station had already approved the time off, and (perhaps most importantly) she’d assured him that yes, really, Carlos, she didn’t mind him leaving, and she was even looking forward to the chance to prove her independence.

“Alright, you could’ve left that last part out. Makes it sound like you’re excited to get rid of me,” he’d ribbed as he hugged her goodbye in the driveway this morning.

“Maybe.” Maria laughed too, but her smile was sincere as she pulled back. “And you’re excited to go! You haven’t stopped missing them since they left.”

It was hard to coordinate, since they were all tied up with work (both at the fire station and with the investigation), but Akane and Junpei had managed to visit him once in the past year since leaving the test site. The pair had bought bus tickets up to San Francisco as soon as they heard that his sister had finally been discharged from the hospital. Maria took to them immediately, as if they’d known each other for years — similar to how Carlos had felt when he first met them. An immediate sense of trust despite all logic indicating otherwise.

She had also picked up on everything else Carlos felt around them almost immediately, which made for an awkward conversation after they’d dropped Junpei and Akane off at the bus station a few days later. (“You’re in love, Carlos. I can tell just by looking at you.”)

“Don’t worry about me. Just have fun,” Maria continued. “They miss you too, you know.”

A blush crept up Carlos’ neck. “You think so?”

She’d rolled her eyes at him and sighed good-naturedly. “I know they do, Carlos. In fact, you’re being cruel to make them wait a single minute longer. Just get in the car already, won’t you?”

So he did. And to Carlos’ credit, he’d only looked back at her distant, waving figure in the rear-view mirror once.

—

Two hours, three different vegetables, and another rubbery, overcooked pot of soba later, Akane is explaining the difference between a UFO and a flying saucer when there’s a knock at the door.

“Akane, you’ve said too much. The Men in Black are here,” Junpei deadpans.

Akane’s eyes grow wide and round as the flying saucers she’d been describing. Her voice drops to a solemn whisper. “Junpei. I have to hide. Remember what I told you.”

He salutes her as he leaves her in the kitchen to continue kneading their third batch of buckwheat dough. The cat leaps down off the currently-unset dining table to follow him curiously down the hallway.

As Junpei approaches, he hears another short knock, then another, then an obnoxious repeated tapping that only stops when Junpei jerks the door open as fast as he can. He catches Aoi with his hand still raised in midair. A slow grin spreads across Aoi’s face as their eyes meet.

“Ah. Should have known it wasn’t Carlos. He’s not a dick.” Junpei lets Aoi hook his fingers in his belt loops and pull him in close. “Showing up uninvited again, huh? What makes you think I want you in my house?”

“Uh, I was invited.” Aoi kisses him in greeting and Junpei feels him still smirking against his lips. He absently runs his fingers through Aoi’s hair, noticing the dark roots starting to grow in. “By your fiancée, actually. So before you give me an attitude…”

Junpei turns to shout down the hallway toward the kitchen. “This was your idea? You knew this was happening?”

“We need him, Jumpy!” Akane yells back. “We’re on our third batch of soba already!”

“See?” Aoi teases. He lets go of Junpei’s waist, pushing past him into the apartment. “Your wheat-to-buckwheat ratio is probably off.”

Junpei won’t admit it out loud, but he knows Akane was right: Aoi is a phenomenal cook, more by necessity than by choice. Akane has told Junpei stories of how Aoi took it upon himself to pack her lunch for school every day; how he learned to prepare all of her comfort foods whenever she was sick; how he baked every one of her birthday cakes after their parents died and always let Akane decorate them with frosting and sprinkles.

Akane talks about Aoi frequently, about all the times Junpei wasn’t there for, but Junpei can’t find it in himself to get tired of it. Not when he technically has Aoi to thank for — for everything. For all of this.

As Aoi heads into the kitchen to greet his sister, he drops a duffel bag full of clothes on the floor by the couch. Junpei arches an eyebrow and nudges the bag with his foot. “Planning to stay a while?”

He pauses to glance back over his shoulder at Junpei. “With your firefighter boyfriend around?” he scoffs. “You bet your ass.”

—

The nine of them stood over Delta’s body, the old man’s blood seeping into the sand. Akane’s voice was the first to break through the silence. “It’ll be alright,” she’d said to them. “I know who to call.”

Carlos’ hands, still trembling, fell to his sides. Seven other voices suddenly began speaking all at once, but he couldn’t hear any of them over the echo of the gunshot ringing in his ears. He locked eyes with Junpei through the crowd, and Junpei nodded once in assurance, his mouth set in a grim line.

A man with bleach-white hair around his own age pulled up in an Infiniti in less than an hour, flanked by probably no less than a dozen people in sunglasses driving equally expensive cars. Carlos saw Akane throw herself into the man’s arms as soon as he stepped out of the car, Junpei watching from afar but then approaching the pair not long after — and as Carlos silently observed all of this, wrapped in a blanket that Diana had retrieved from somewhere inside the shelter, a name calmly floated into his mind as if carried on the wind. This must be Aoi Kurashiki.

How did he know that? Did he hear Akane talk about him before, somewhere very far away from here-and-now?

“Hey.”

Carlos looked up at him from where he sat on the ground. He managed to find his voice, finally, after a few seconds of trying. “Hi, uh. I’m—”

“Carlos. I know.” The white-haired guy looked amused; Carlos could not relate. “Good work back there.”

He blinked. “What?”

“I’d have done the same thing.” Aoi extended a hand to help Carlos up. “My sister might not have. Her boyfriend could’ve gone either way, too. But me? I say that bastard deserves to rot, and he knew it.”

Even after Carlos stood up, Aoi continued to hold his hand out, palm-up. Seeing Carlos’ puzzled expression, Aoi sighed as patiently as possible. “The gun, dude. I need the gun.”

“Oh.” Then, his instincts finally kicking in, suddenly suspicious: “Why?”

“We’re gonna destroy it. Your fingerprints, DNA, gone. No one will ever know.”

“Oh.”

Aoi flashed him a smile that somehow managed to convey both pity and pure, mischievous delight.

Later, after the Crash Keys had made quick work of the crime scene, Carlos found himself in the backseat of Aoi’s car with Akane and Junpei. Aoi rode in the passenger seat this time, busy scrolling through two different tablets as a higher-ranking Crash Keys member (a Crash Key?) sped them down the highway.

Akane was squished in the middle between Junpei and Carlos but didn’t seem uncomfortable in the slightest. Junpei’s hands rested in his lap, relaxed, as he gazed out the dark-tinted window. Beside him, Akane reached over to slip her fingers inside Junpei’s palm. Junpei closed his hand around hers, like a reflex.

Carlos looked down at his own, the ones that had just taken an (arguably) innocent man’s life hours before.

He knew Akane and Junpei had killed before, too, he’d seen it, but in this timeline they hadn’t. Hadn’t they? Sitting in the back of the Kurashikis’ luxury car — one of their cars? — Carlos realized he wasn’t so sure.

He met Aoi’s eyes in the rearview mirror. They held each other’s gaze for just a moment before Aoi turned his attention back to whatever he was reading in his lap. Akane’s hand squeezed his just a little tighter, and when he looked over, Junpei offered him a weak smile, too.

Soon, they would be home.

—

Eight o’clock at night and Carlos can finally turn off his GPS. His truck looks far too big to fit in the driveway, especially next to what he thinks is Aoi’s car. (Is it? He can’t remember. He’s only seen it once.) But he manages to squeeze it in without running over any bushes, and the whole process only takes an extra three minutes or so — not nearly long enough to stall for time as he steels himself to go inside and face the people he’s been dreaming about for the better part of a year.

He stands on the lawn staring up at their door, digging his nails into his palms. What if he’s different? What if the person they’ve invited into their home six months after they last saw him isn’t the same man they had hoped to see?

They’ve missed you too, Maria had said. At the time, he’d believed her, because it felt as true as anything else he’d ever known. But she could have just been trying to make him feel better, and now he’s four hundred miles away standing alone in their front yard feeling like an idiot but his feet are moving on their own and he doesn’t have time to answer any of these questions for himself.

When he gets to the top of the stairwell, he can’t even manage to knock twice before the door swings open.

“Carlos!”

Akane’s cheerful voice is, as always, the first to welcome him, and she’s the first to pull him inside. She throws her arms around his shoulders — which is difficult, at her height — and kisses him before he has time to react. She does it two, three times, light, excited pecks, before he remembers how to move again and hugs her tightly, marveling in the familiar scent and weight of her in his arms.

A few feet away, Junpei stands wearing a sheepish smile, his hands stuffed in his pockets. Carlos returns the smile over the top of Akane’s head — Akane, who turns to look at Junpei and gestures quickly for him to come closer — and once he does, Carlos tilts Junpei’s chin up gently to kiss him hello, too.

“This is so weird,” Junpei mumbles, his cheeks flushed, “I keep forgetting what it’s like to kiss someone taller.”

“Oh yeah? Then who the fuck am I?” Aoi retorts, coming in from the hallway, carrying a cat tucked under one arm.

Junpei rolls his eyes. “Like, a lot taller. You know what I meant.”

“No, I heard you. You think I’m forgettable. Whatever.”

“Carlos,” he hears Akane ask, “didn’t you bring any bags?”

He must’ve left them in the truck, is what he means to say. He also wants to tell them, god, I’ve missed you, and whatever you’ve been cooking smells incredible, and I can’t believe you’re finally in front of me when I’ve been aching for it for months, and I can’t believe I went so long without doing this, I’m such an idiot, but I’m here now and I hope that’s enough, is it enough?

But instead, what comes out of his mouth is, “You have a cat?”

Hearing the soft chime of Akane’s laughter to his left and Junpei and Aoi’s banter to his right, one hand on both Junpei and Akane’s waists, Aoi sauntering up to join them too (with a cat!) — it’s perfect. It’s everything.

He’ll go back for the bags later.

A weight has been lifted from Carlos’ chest that he didn’t even realize he had been carrying. Of course he’s relieved that they’re happy to see him, it’s nice to have that irrational fear quelled at last, but he hadn’t quite been conscious of the dull ache nestled in the pit of his stomach that he no longer had room for: the misery of being separated from the people who truly know you, gone and replaced by the unbridled euphoria of finally coming home.

#zero escape #zero time dilemma #c-team ot4 #zecret santa 2019 #submission

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discoveriesofbishmont · 5 years

Text

restless (bishmont, 1x04 fic)

@kuningatarmirka prompted matthew helping diana through a nightmare.

set during 1x04. i added in scenes where matthew calls miriam and hamish because i love them. will probably write a series of fics with diana and matthew comforting each other in the future. one post 1x06 where diana has a panic attack is already in the works, and also one where matthew has a PTSD episode for @begins-with-an-absence-of-desire

AO3 Link Here or you can just read the tumblr post...

Matthew waited until Diana’s heart rate had slowed enough to indicate she was deeply asleep in the upstairs room of his tower before exiting his study, traipsing down the staircase out back into the main keep of Sept-Tours. The vampire had work to do and phone calls to make, and he didn’t want to risk Diana waking up and overhearing. He still had his senses tuned to her so he could be able to hear her even on the other side of the castle.

The witch was napping after their morning ride together, still exhausted and weary after the events in Oxford over the last couple of days; she was especially worn out after the revelation that her parents had been killed by witches, not humans. Although she’d run off at first, understandably upset, he’d returned to the tower to find her there and nearly dead on her feet.

He headed towards his father’s office. The study would provide a quiet, calm space with stronger vampiric scents that would hopefully get the alluring smell of Diana out of his nose. Despite feeding only at the weekend, being around the witch was making his blood thirst much harder to control. Matthew would take whatever break he could when it come to getting away from Diana’s scent. While he loved spending time with her, he didn’t want his craving for her to overshadow his feelings - even though he was still in denial.

Matthew opened up the office and stepped inside. It had barely changed over the centuries - bookcase cabinets lined the walls, filled with de Clermont memoires, with old hunting scene paintings decorating the cobblestone walls. The mahogany desk and its accompanying chair had piles of old account papers on top of them and the candle stubs had been burnt down. The air was stale but Matthew could detect both his mother’s and Marthe’s scents within the room. His father’s scent was no longer detectable.

Clearing the chair, he brushed off the gathered dust before sitting down and pulling out his phone. After some debating, he chose who to call.

“Matthew,” Miriam greeted him shortly down the line.

“Miriam,” he acknowledged. “How’s Oxford?”

She began answering questions he hadn’t even asked yet. “Knox isn’t aware Diana is out of the country, although we think he is searching for her. Marcus and I moved into the Old Lodge and made sure a trail with Diana’s scent was left behind from New College to Woodstock. There don’t seem to be any creatures suspecting you took Diana to France - at least, not yet. Everything seems to have quietened down for now. How’s Sept-Tours?”

“Fine. It’s going to take a while for my mother and Marthe to get used to a witch living within the castle walls.”

“I can imagine it must be quite a change. For Ysabeau, Marthe, and Diana, to be living in a house full of vampires.”

“Diana is adapting well,” he relayed.

“So Ysabeau hasn’t ripped her head off yet?”

“Nor do I think she plans to.”

“Marcus owes me twenty pounds then,” Miriam said, satisfied.

“You had a bet about whether or not my mother would attempt to kill Diana?” he asked disbelievingly, some anger seeping through into his voice.

Miriam switched the subject tactfully. “Marcus has been acting as my lab assistant since you left, mostly due to the fact that he wants his own blood analyzed quickly so can find out why his siring attempt with James failed.”

“Any news with that?” he asked.

“I ran his bloods and have the results. Marcus has some of the markers we’ve seen before in cases of failed sirings,” the female vampire sighed. “I’ve emailed you copies of the gel x-rays. When you have the time, can you look at them for me?”

“Of course.” He paused. “You want me to tell him?”

“I think he’ll take it better from his father.”

Matthew nodded. “That might be better.”

Miriam went quiet on the other end of the line again. “Are you scared?”

“Of?”

“Diana.”

“Of Diana - no. But for her? Yes.” Matthew ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “I don’t even want to imagine what Knox and the Congregation might do to Diana if they get their hands on her. Accidental elemental magic, witchwind… her parents’ bloodlines obviously carry power that the witches were jealous of, which is probably why they were killed. Then there’s the entire situation with Ashmole 782…”

“Marcus thinks you’re being stupid taking Diana to Sept-Tours,” Miriam said. “I think you’re being smart. If Diana is powerful, but has no control, and there are witches after her because of the manuscript or her magic, maybe both… there’s no place safer for her than with you and your mother in France.”

Matthew exhaled. “Thank you, Miriam,” he answered sincerely.

“Tell Diana to give me a call anytime if she wants somebody else to talk to,” was the last thing the female vampire informed him, before hanging up.

Before Matthew could put place his phone down on the desk, it pinged with a text.

From: Marcus - So… you might want to call Hamish :/

“Merde,” Matthew muttered.

What exactly had Marcus told Hamish about Diana and their trip to Sept-Tours? Spinning around in the chair, the vampire swiped up his phone and thumbed through it for a moment, wondering whether or not it would be a good idea to call his best friend when he knew it was likely he was just going to get lectured.

In the end, he just sighed and placed the call. Hamish picked up in under two seconds.

“I tell you to take a step back from Diana Bishop and what do you do? The exact opposite.” Hamish said sharply. “And then I have to hear from your son that you’ve partially mated to this witch and you’ve taken her home to France?!”

“Diana and I are not mating,” he countered immediately. “And I’m sorry, Hamish - things took a turn for the worst concerning the manuscript and Diana was being threatened by other witches. I had to act fast. I would have called you if I’d had the time. I’m sorry. You were right - I care about Diana and I can’t let her get hurt. I’m in too deep now and I’m not sure if I want to get out of it.”

“Dammit, Matthew,” the daemon bristled. “You make it so fucking hard to be mad at you, you know that?”

The vampire smiled. “I would let you punch me if you were here.”

“And you’d deserve it.” There was a pregnant pause and then Hamish commented, “Marcus told me he had to talk you down from directly attacking the Congregation.”

Matthew sighed. Of course, his son would have snitched on him to Hamish about that. “I wasn’t going to attack the Congregation - I was going to hunt down Knox. He’s made it clear that he’s willing to do whatever it takes to get his hands on Diana and the Book of Life, even if that means threatening and manipulating her. Diana can no longer trust her own people to protect her, which is why she needs me.”

“From what I’ve heard, it sounds like she can protect herself,” Hamish said dryly. “Witchwind?”

“Marcus really needs to learn to keep his mouth shut,” the vampire growled.

“It’s good that she can defend herself, Matthew. That means she’ll be able to fend off Ysabeau when she eventually strikes.”

“Why does everybody think my mother is going to attack Diana?” He hand tightened around the phone. “She’s not. She promised me. She won’t go back on her word.”

Hamish hummed thoughtfully. “If she swore, then she’ll keep to it. Ysabeau de Clermont might be many things, but dishonorable is not one of them. Now, tell me more about the manuscript. Marcus mentioned that Diana tried to recall it, but failed. What happened?”

Matthew was about to respond when his enhanced hearing picked up a faint whimper from the direction of his tower. He froze, switching all of his attention from Hamish over to Diana. Seconds later, a pained scream split the air. He dropped his phone onto the desk with a clatter, ignoring his best friend’s frantic demands to know what was wrong on, and the vampire full-out sprinted from the office back towards his tower. He was running at such speed that he actually cracked some of the stone walls when slamming into them, struggling to get around the corners fast enough.

He wasn’t ashamed to admit he was panicking. Diana sounded as if she was in agony, and although he couldn’t scent any strangers within Sept-Tours, there was always a possibility that somebody might have broken in. As soon as that thought entered his mind, his anxiety transformed to anger, fear, and guilt; Matthew had promised Diana she would be safe at his home.

Taking the tower steps five at a time, he was at Diana’s bedside barely a minute after hearing her initial scream. To his relief, she wasn’t being attacked or harmed. It appeared that she was trapped in some sort of intense nightmare. The witch was trembling all over, her limbs shaking with the effort of flailing as sleep paralysis gripped at her. Matthew could feel his heart clenching as he saw the tortured expression on her face.

“Wake her up, Matthew.”

He turned, tensing when he saw his mother and Marthe framed in the doorway. They were respectfully remaining on the staircase and hadn’t entered the tower, as that would be an invasion of his territory. Ysabeau had been the one speaking to him, her voice unusually soft, although her eyes were as cold as ever.

“She is suffering a cachavièlha,” his mother continued. “It would be cruel to let her sleep on.”

Sitting down on the bed beside her, Matthew gently placed his hand on her nearest shoulder, wincing when she flinched at his touch. “Diana, wake up,” he urged. “You’re just having a nightmare. Whatever you’re seeing is not real. You’re safe and I’m here with you. Wake up!”

The witch jolted upwards so suddenly that all three of the vampires startled, Matthew in particular jerking away slightly. Her breathing short and uneven, Diana’s hands were like vices as he gripped onto Matthew’s forearms, her eyes wide with alarm and fright. The vampire stared directly back at her, his own hands grasping her elbows securely.

“Matthew?” she breathed. The frantic, haunted look on her face as she glanced desperately around the room told him that Diana wasn’t sure whether this was real or not. “Knox… he was just…” She placed a shaking hand over her heart, as if remembering some past pain.

“He’s not here,” he shook his head. “It’s just you, me, and my mother and Marthe. You’re safe.”

Something in his expression must have reassured her, because Diana crumpled and threw himself at him, wrapping her arms around Matthew’s neck and burying her head into his shoulder with a broken, relieved sob.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, embracing him to her tightly. “I’ve got you. It was just a bad dream. It wasn’t real.”

“It was definitely real,” Diana murmured, voice trembling. “Knox was looking for me, chasing me… no matter how far and fast I traveled, he was always there right behind me, ready to strike me down. And then you were there helping me get away but Knox was still hunting us.”

Matthew shushed her and stroked over her hair soothingly. He met Ysabeau’s icy eyes and Marthe’s warm, sympathetic ones over the top of the witch’s head. “He can’t get to you here.”

“He got to my parents.” Diana’s hand fisted his shirt. “They were on the run and the witches got to them despite that. What makes you think they won’t find me here?” Her breathing was speeding up and she began to hyperventilate, on the verge of a panic attack. Her shaking only intensified. “Oh god, Matthew.”

He shot his mother and their housekeeper a sharp look, silently ordering them to leave. Marthe dipped her head and vanished down the staircase, and after one last narrow-eyed glance between her son and the witch, Ysabeau departed as well.

As soon as they were gone, Matthew scooped Diana off the bed and slipped underneath her, lying down so he could settle her against his chest. Encasing her in his arms, the vampire sighed when her ear rested over his heart and fingers hooked onto his shirt collar. He reached down to tug a blanket over them both, aware that Diana was still shivering. After a minute or so, the trembling stopped and the witch lay on top of him quietly.

"I'm here," he whispered, dancing his fingertips over her back. "It's all right."

“No, it's not. Knox’s looking for me,” she said, sounding dazed. “He’s using a location spell. But you have to use a map and the one he’s working with is only of the UK. But soon he’ll realize that he needs to search further out and then he’ll find me.”

The glazed-over look in Diana’s blue eyes told Matthew this was not just an educated guess of hers; she was utilizing some kind of witch power. Perhaps she was using seer abilities. “Even if he does discover you are here, he won’t come to find you,” he promised. “You’re safe here.”

Turning, she propped her chin on his sternum. “I’m safe with you.”

Matthew stared at the ceiling, swallowing down the suddenly erupting burn at the back of his throat as he heard the witch’s blood begin to hum in her veins due to their proximity. “I don’t deserve your trust,” he said quietly. “I don’t know what I ever did to earn it in the first place.”

Diana leaned up and brushed her lips against his tenderly. His body stiffened and he reminded himself that such relations between a witch and vampire were forbidden, trying to find the inner strength to push her away. But sensing how unresponsive Matthew was beneath her, Diana pulled away and slid off him, curling up at his side with a sigh.

She was asleep again within seconds.

“You smell like her,” Ysabeau muttered with a disgusted wrinkle of her nose when Matthew eventually forced himself to part from Diana’s side, heading downstairs to his study where Marthe was stoking the fire and Ysabeau was sitting in the chair beside it. “I can deal with one witch who smells like fresh grass and morning dew, but I will not have my son smelling the same way.”

“Diana is fine, thank you for asking,” he responded flatly.

His mother looked away dismissively. “I knew she would be fine the moment you woke her up. Nightmares have no lasting effects on witches.”

“I’m not so sure that was a nightmare Diana was suffering from.” Matthew frowned, cracking open a decade old bottle of wine from the vineyards down the road.

“La sorcière est une voyante?” Marthe asked.

“She is a seer?” Ysabeau snapped, unintentionally translating what their housekeeper had just questioned.

Matthew inclined his head. “Perhaps. I doubt she knows what she is capable of when it comes to magic.”

His mother stood abruptly and left. Marthe finished adding firewood to the grate and hurried out after the other female vampire.

Matthew sighed. He needed to return to his father’s study to fetch his phone, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave the tower in case Diana suffered another nightmare or vision, and needed him to comfort her. Instead, Matthew gathered a couple of books so he could work upstairs sitting beside the bed; that way he could watch over the witch while she slept for a couple more hours, before he would wake her mid-afternoon for a late lunch, so she could get some of her own work in before dinner with Ysabeau later on.

He had no idea whether Diana would remember her nightmare or her actions when he’d woken her up. The idea of her forgetting kissing him caused a twisting sensation in his chest.

As long as Diana was safe, though, Matthew would be happy.

#ADOW #a discovery of witches #ADOW fic #mine #bishmont

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sunflowerseedsandscience · 6 years

Text

By the Dim and Flaring Lamps: Part Two, Chapter Three

Part One: One | Two | Three | Four Part Two: One | Two

JULY 30, 1863 NEAR WASHINGTON, D.C.

"You should come with me next week," Mulder tells Scully out of the blue one morning, as they sit alone by the dying fire in front of their tent, drinking tin cups of coffee that's nearly too bitter to stomach.

"Where are you going?" asks Scully, puzzled. The regiment has been encamped just outside of the Capital for three days, and every indication has been that they'll be staying here for some time.

"I've requested a week's furlough," Mulder says, "and it's been granted. I'm going south to Fredericksburg to visit my family. They're staying in town, at the mansion of my father's friend, Diana's adoptive father." Scully's eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"They've agreed to see you?" she asks. The last she had heard, Mulder was still only writing to Diana, had still heard nothing from his sister Samantha, and certainly had had no word from his parents.

"They have," he says. "Diana set the whole thing up and convinced them to come. Though I suspect the only thing that they're actually interested in is trying once more to convince me to give up and come home- or worse, to desert and enlist in the Army of Northern Virginia, instead." He shakes his head in disgust. "I don't really care, since I don't plan on listening to any of it one way or another."

"Why go at all, then?" asks Scully, perplexed. "It doesn't sound as though it's going to be a pleasant visit."

"It won't be, believe me," Mulder agrees. "But... my sister is going to be in Fredericksburg, as well. Diana says that too many Northern troops were hanging around the plantation in Culpeper, and it was making them nervous, so they've relocated to Fredericksburg until the armies have moved on somewhere else. The chance to see Samantha is enough to convince me to go, no matter how much time my father spends yelling or my mother spends crying." He pauses. "And besides, Diana will be with them, as well." Scully feels as though something in her stomach has curdled.

"What do you want me there for, then?" she asks. She's aware that she sounds jealous and petulant, and hates herself for it, but she's not quite able to stop herself.

"I want you to meet them both, of course," says Mulder, seeming completely perplexed at the question. "You're my best friend, Scully. I might find my parents' beliefs and attitudes embarrassing, but I'd like for you to meet my sister, and I'd very much like for you to meet Diana, so that maybe you can stop thinking so badly of her."

"I don't think badly of her," Scully lies, but it's not convincing even to her ears, and it's certainly not convincing to Mulder's.

"You won't," he promises. "Not once you've spent a week with her."

"Does your family know that you're inviting me along?" Scully asks.

"No, but it won't be a problem," Mulder says dismissively. "The house is spacious. They'll have a room for you, I'm sure." Scully chews her lip, thinking. She's flattered, certainly, that Mulder wants her to meet his sister, though she's much less enthusiastic at the notion of meeting Diana.

"I suppose that I could go," she ventures hesitantly. She looks around them to be sure that they're truly alone; their tent is pitched some distance from the others, but still, she can't be too careful. "But... would it be too much trouble if I shared your room, while we're there? I think I would be more comfortable that way, and maybe less worried about some over-helpful housemaid accidentally walking into my bedroom before I'm ready and finding me out."

"I... I suppose that would be all right," Mulder says, and Scully's stomach clenches at his reluctance.

"I know, you're probably desperate for some space between us, after all these months of such close quarters," she says, with pretend flippancy. "It's all right, I can just-"

"No, Scully, that's not it at all," Mulder reassures her. "I don't mind sharing a room with you... quite the opposite, in fact. It's just... it could be awkward, if Diana were to find out the truth, you know? She's trusting, but something tells me that she might be more than a little uncomfortable with the idea of me sharing a room with another woman." Scully sits up straight, horrified at the very thought.

"She can't know, Mulder," she insists. "She can't find out. You have to promise me- oh, God, you haven't told her already, have you?" Panic is beginning to build in her throat, and Mulder, alarmed, reaches out and lays a calming hand along her arm.

"Scully, relax, it's all right!" he says soothingly. "I haven't told her anything at all, I promise. All that she knows about you is your name, that you're deadly with a rifle, and that you're my best friend. And if you want it to stay at that, I swear I'll make sure that it stays that way." In spite of her momentary fear, Scully feels head-to-toe warm at the idea of Mulder thinking of her as his best friend. "But Scully, I really don't think you have to be so terrified of Diana finding out. I've told you before, she's a good person, and she would never betray a secret like that."

"It's not that I think she would," Scully says, fully aware that she's lying through her teeth. "It's just that I don't want anyone to know. You know, and that's enough. Each new person who finds out means that my position is less secure." She gives him a meaningful look. "I trust you, Mulder, and that's it. I need it to stop there." Mulder smiles warmly at her.

"Then that's where it stops, Scully," he says, "I promise."

"Besides," Scully points out, "if Diana wouldn't like the idea of you sharing your room with me while we're there, if she knew about me, how would she feel about us sharing a tent every single night when we're out here with the army?" Mulder thinks this over.

"She probably wouldn't like that very much, either," he concedes, nodding. "So I suppose you're right; it's better that we keep her in the dark for now." He glances over at her. "I mean... it's not like anything is happening... but still, why even give her cause to worry?"

Why, indeed, Scully thinks to herself, just barely holding back a sigh.

Scully is honestly not sure whether she's glad when her request for a week's furlough is granted right along with Mulder's. Regardless, it is, and before sunrise on the morning of August the third, she's mounted on her horse, heading off down the road towards Fredericksburg by Mulder's side. As the sun comes up, the day turns fine and warm, and the ride is pleasant, even though Scully's stomach is doing backflips for nearly the entire trip. She's not sure which prospect she finds more unnerving: the idea of meeting Mulder's parents, who are bound to dislike her solely based on the fact that she is a Union soldier, or the idea of meeting Mulder's supposed fiancee, to whom she can't quite find in her heart to give a fair chance.

Mulder doesn't seem any less nervous than Scully is, though he's obviously excited at the prospect of seeing both Diana and his sister Samantha.

"I haven't seen her in six months," Mulder says. "I wonder how much taller she's grown since I've been away." He looks sideways at Scully, smiling playfully. "I'm betting she'll be a few inches taller than you, at the very least."

"Who, Diana?" Scully asks, wrinkling her nose, and Mulder laughs.

"No, I know for certain that Diana is taller than you," he says. "She's nearly as tall as I am." Great, thinks Scully dejectedly. One more thing that Miss Perfect has over me. "No, I'm talking about Samantha. My sister."

"How old is she?" asks Scully. "Samantha, I mean."

"She turned fourteen just last May," says Mulder, pulling his canteen from his belt and taking a long drink from it. "I think you'll like her a lot, Scully. She's like me, only considerably more cheerful."

"So... like you, but pretty, and pleasant to be around," comments Scully, grinning playfully, and Mulder pauses in re-sealing his canteen just long enough to flick a handful of water at Scully, who laughs. "Do that again," she goads him. "It's hot today." In response, Mulder splashes her with half the contents of his canteen, and she lets out a high-pitched peal of laughter that no one could ever possibly mistake for anything other than purely feminine. Scully is immediately horrified at her lapse, but Mulder looks delighted.

"I've got to make you do that again sometime," he says.

"You'd better not," Scully warns him. "Not unless you're planning to blow my cover and end up having to find a replacement aide-de-camp." Mulder sobers instantly.

"No, you're probably right," he agrees, glancing around the deserted front yards along the road leading into the town. "I guess I'll just have to save that for after the war, then." He smiles warmly at Scully in a way that sets her heart fluttering and her stomach twisting, though she can't quite think why, not at first. It's only an hour later, when they're inside the town proper and her entire body is a knot of nervous energy, that she finally figures it out: for just a moment, possibly for the first time since she had put her uniform back on, immediately after the moment he had seen her standing bare-chested in the moonlight, he had seen her as a woman, instead of just another soldier.

Well... almost. She's not counting the way that he frequently looks at her in the mornings, as she's just drifting back towards consciousness. For all she knows, she's only dreaming those looks into her eyes as she wakes each morning, those gazes that sometimes seem almost to border on longing. For all she knows, that's just what Mulder looks like at the start of every day, before he's fully cognizant of what his face is doing.

They're well into the crowded bustle of the city when Mulder at last reins up his horse in front of an embarrassingly large brownstone mansion. It's surrounded by an impeccably manicured front garden and an ornate wrought-iron fence, and a tall, slender young girl with long, dark brown hair cascading in curls down her back is standing on the wide front porch, watching them approach. Scully knows, the moment that the girl's face breaks into a wide smile that perfectly matches Mulder's (though her nose is somewhat less prominent), that this must be his little sister, Samantha.

Mulder leaps from his horse, grinning from ear to ear, and rushes up and through the front gate, along the path, until he meets his sister halfway, swooping her up off the ground and spinning her around in a crushing embrace. Samantha giggles gleefully as her brother sets her back down on the brick path.

"Let me look at you," Mulder says, stepping back, smiling widely. "I've told you before, Sam, if you don't stop growing, you're going to be taller than all of the boys, and then none of them are going to want to marry you!" Samantha gives her brother a good-natured smack on his arm.

"Very funny, Fox," she chastises him. "You haven't even been here for five minutes yet and you're already making fun of me."

"Technically I haven't been here yet at all," Mulder says. "I've yet to set foot in the house."

"Close enough," says Samantha. She looks past Mulder's shoulder, to where Scully is standing, unsure, on the curb, her horse's reins clutched in her hand as she watches the reunion. Mulder grins at her and waves her forward.

"Scully, come and meet my sister," he calls. A groom suddenly seems to materialize out of thin air, taking both her horse's reins and Mulder's, leading the animals off to the side to a driveway that Scully assumes leads to the stables. Still feeling nervous, Scully follows Mulder through the gate and up the brick path, until she's standing by his side. "Samantha," says Mulder, "I'd like you to meet Lieutenant Daniel Scully, my aide. Scully, this overgrown bean sprout is my little sister." Samantha glares at Mulder one more time; then, smiling welcomingly at Scully, she curtseys and extends a delicate hand to be kissed, the very picture of good breeding.

"It's lovely to meet you, Lieutenant Scully," Samantha says. "Fox has told me so much about you in his letters." Mulder raises his eyebrows at her.

"So you have been getting them, then?" he asks. "I honestly wasn't sure if Mother and Father have been intercepting them." Samantha rolls her eyes.

"No, I've been receiving them," she says. "It's my responses that are being intercepted, I think." Mulder shakes his head in disgust.

"I suppose that I should be grateful that they let you hear from me at all," he says. "It wouldn't have come as a surprise if they had decided that reading my letters would be too dangerous for your fragile sensibilities." Samantha fixes her brother with a stern look.

"If you're going to begin your visit by being that negative, Fox, then you may as well ride straight back to your regiment right now," she admonishes him. "No matter how angry Mother and Father may be with you, they've spent the past six months worrying about you night and day." She takes Mulder by the arm, then turns to Scully, extending her other arm to her. "Let's go inside, shall we? Everyone is waiting for us."

Samantha leads them up onto the porch and through the heavy wooden front doors, into an opulent entrance hall. A servant waits to take their jackets and hats, and while Scully surrenders her cap, she elects to hang onto her uniform jacket. They follow Samantha through the front hall and into a parlor where, in spite of the warmth of the day, a fire is burning in the hearth. The man standing next to it, his hand resting on the mantlepiece, is the spitting image of Mulder, save for the grey sprinkled heavily through his dark hair, and the deep lines on his face. He crosses the room slowly, deliberately, his stern face completely devoid of a smile. He extends a hand to Mulder, who shakes it nervously.

"Fox," he says, "it's good to see you again."

"You too, Father," Mulder says, and Scully has time to think that neither man sounds particularly sincere before Mulder turns to her. "Allow me to introduce my aide-de-camp, Lieutenant Daniel Scully." Scully steps forward hesitantly, unnerved by the dispassionate way that Mulder's father surveys her. "Scully, this is my father, William Mulder."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Sir," Scully says, and she just barely stops herself from trying to deepen her voice, from trying to seem more impressive in front of the imposing older man. "Thank you very much for welcoming me here this week." William seems to be barely holding back a scowl.

"Awfully young to be a lieutenant, aren't you, Mr. Scully?" he asks, and Mulder's expression darkens. Before he can intervene, however, there's another voice from the corner of the room.

"Come now, Bill, you of all people should know that age is hardly the most important measurement of a young man's competence." Scully turns to see a stately older woman, her clothing fine and her countenance proud, rising slowly from a sofa near the front windows. She carries herself with a great deal of dignity as she crosses the room to her son, kissing him stiffly on the cheek before turning and offering her hand to Scully. "How do you do, Lieutenant Scully?" she asks, as Scully kisses the back of her hand. She scarcely has to bend in order to reach it.

"This is my mother, Teena," says Mulder. The introductions complete, he looks curiously around the parlor. "Where's Diana?"

"Charles had an errand to run across town," says William. "He took Diana with him, but they should be back sometime before dinner." Mulder frowns.

"Didn't she know that I'd be here by lunch?" he asks.

"I'm sure she just forgot, Fox," says Teena. "She's been quite busy since we arrived last week, visiting with all of her old friends."

"Oh, she knew," pipes up Samantha from the chair where she's settled herself. "She said that she had things to do this morning, and that she would see you when she sees you, Fox."

"Hush, Samantha," snaps Teena, but the teenager doesn't look the slightest bit repentant. She catches Scully's eye and grins brashly at her. Clearly, Scully thinks, Samantha is no more fond of Diana than Scully is.

Scully decides, right then and there, that she likes Mulder's little sister very much.

"Lieutenant Scully, might I call a servant to come and take your things upstairs?" Teena asks.

"I only have this," says Scully, gesturing to the small pack strapped to her back. "Please don't go to any trouble, I can take it up myself." Teena seems surprised.

"You certainly do travel light," she observes.

"Military life, Mother," says Mulder. "Only the generals get to bring along more than what they can carry on their backs."

"Well, then, Fox, would you care to show Lieutenant Scully to his room, so that he can put his things down and freshen up before lunch?" asks Teena.

"Actually, Mother, Scully's going to stay in my usual room," Mulder says. "He gets a little spooked in strange places, sometimes, so I told him that he should just bunk with me, the same as we do when we're in camp."

"You're certain that will be all right with you, Lieutenant?" asks Teena anxiously. "You won't feel too crowded?"

"Not at all, Mrs. Mulder," Scully says. "As you can see, I don't require a great deal of space." This earns a small smile from Teena. "And please, call me Daniel."

"Daniel, then," she says. "Well, go on up with Fox, then, if you're sure. Lunch will be served in about half an hour. I'm sure you're both hungry after your trip."

Scully follows Mulder up the sweeping staircase and along the landing, until he stops at a door near the end of the hall.

"This is the room I usually sleep in, when we're staying with Diana and her father," he tells her. He opens the door to reveal a handsome, high-ceilinged bedroom, with tall, narrow windows, dark walnut furniture, and a massive four-poster bed dominating most of the space along the left-hand wall. There's a fireplace with a mantle carved from the same wood as the furniture, to match, with a deep blue velvet sofa in front of it. A bookcase stands against another wall from corner to corner, stocked with a handful of well-worn, well-loved volumes.

Mulder drops his pack carelessly at the foot of the bed and kicks off his boots before flopping back onto the mattress with a loud groan of pleasure. "Ohhhh, Scully," he sighs, "get over here and feel this." Scully puts her own pack down more carefully and bends to unlace her boots before depositing them next to Mulder's. She climbs up onto the bed, which is considerably higher than any she's encountered before, and stretches out on her back, sinking into the thick feather mattress and soft down comforter.

"Wow," she breathes, closing her eyes. "I had completely forgotten what this feels like." She wriggles a bit, sinking deeper into the bedding. "Not that any of our beds at home are anywhere near as luxurious as this." She closes her eyes, which, she realizes almost immediately, is a mistake: it would take very little for her to fall asleep right now. Instead, she turns her head to look at Mulder, who, she finds, is already watching her closely. "What?"

"I'm just realizing," he says, "I really don't know that much about your family, other than their names, and who they want you to marry."

"I suppose not," Scully concedes. "We're not that interesting, really, when it comes down to it. What did you want to know?"

"Well, for starters, it would be good to know what your father does for a living," says Mulder, rolling on his side to look at her. "I know my mother is most likely going to ask, and I'm embarrassed to admit that I don't even know, myself."

"In all honesty, Mulder, you probably already know much more than you think you do," Scully tells him. "My father is a career Navy man, and so is my older brother, Bill. My younger brother Charlie never had any interest in joining up- he never had much interest in anything, really, beyond loafing around, drinking, gambling, and flirting with any girl who crossed his path- but after he got a local girl in trouble, my father gave him a choice. He could either join the Navy, or he would be cut off from the family and forced to fend for himself."

"Seems like a fairly easy decision," chuckles Mulder, and Scully shakes her head.

"You would think so," she says. "But Charlie has a defiant streak a mile wide and he gave serious thought to moving out on his own, just to spite my father. My sister and I talked him out of it." She sighs heavily. "I might not have, if I had known that we would be at war almost immediately after he joined up. It probably would have been easier on my mother to have at least one man in her family not off fighting."

"And yet," observes Mulder quietly, "that didn't stop you from enlisting."

"My mother left me with even less of a choice than my father gave Charlie," Scully says darkly. "Charlie, at least, had the option of leaving home and finding a job to support himself, rather than joining the Navy. No one would have batted an eye, and if he'd wanted, he could even have gone to a different town where no one would have known about the girl carrying his child. Or he could have married her and settled down in our town, using my father's good name to secure him a job." She rolls on her side as well, mirroring his position. "I had a choice between marrying a man I didn't love, a man who would expect me to change every aspect of my personality that makes me who I am, a man with a definite potential for cruelty... or facing a lifetime of guilt from my parents for offending my father's friend, and harming my family's reputation, by turning down his proposal."

"So you made up an option of your own," says Mulder, smiling.

"Two options, if you'll recall," Scully corrects him. "I did try to become a nurse first. I only resorted to enlisting when it became clear that there was no other way for me to hide myself from Daniel and the rest of my family." Mulder nods, and they lapse into a silence that, while not all together comfortable, isn't exactly awkward, either. Scully's never been this physically close to him, not without other soldiers surrounding them, and certainly not since he's learned the truth about her.

Mulder seems to be thinking along the same lines as Scully. He quirks a bemused smile at her.

"We'd be causing one hell of a scandal ourselves right now, if my parents really knew all about you," he observes. "Does this count as being in bed with a woman? Because in all honesty, I never have been before, so this is a first for me." Scully blushes at his off-hand attitude.

"Really?" she asks. "Never visited a house of ill repute in any of the towns we've passed through?"

"Nah," says Mulder dismissively. "Those places are hotbeds of disease, from what I hear." Scully bites her lip, thinking, wondering whether to ask the question when she might not like the answer.

"And you and Diana never...." Mulder shakes his head, and Scully feels unaccountably relieved.

"We're not even officially engaged, not yet," he says. "I think she might slap me for even suggesting it." He peers at her curiously. "Am I to assume that you never...." Scully shakes her head vehemently, blushing.

"Daniel made overtures, more often than I'd care to admit," Scully says. "Never when my parents could overhear, of course... but by the time I ran off, he was becoming quite persistent."

"Probably not a tempting prospect," says Mulder. "Not if the picture of him that you've painted for me is true to life, at any rate."

"Not only that, but Daniel is exactly the sort of man who would pressure a woman into behaving improperly with him, and then turn around and shame her for giving in to her baser instincts." Mulder wrinkles his nose.

"I don't think I ever want to meet this Daniel," he says. "I suspect we wouldn't get along all that well." Scully smiles.

"No, you'd probably have a great deal to teach him about being a true gentleman," she agrees. Mulder, smiling at the compliment, rolls back onto his back, then drags himself to a sitting position.

"We'd better get washed up and go downstairs to lunch," he says to Scully, over his shoulder. "Otherwise my mother is likely to come up here looking for us." Scully sits up as well, and Mulder points to a basin and a ceramic jug that sit ready on a mirrored vanity across the room. "If I know my mother, she's made sure that there's already water for washing with. You can go first, if you like."

"Thanks," says Scully gratefully, sliding down off of the bed and crossing to the vanity. Feeling more than a little self-conscious, keenly aware of Mulder's eyes on her, she strips off her uniform jacket... and then, throwing caution to the wind (and not wanting to show up to lunch with a soaking-wet shirt), she unbuttons her uniform shirt and slides that off, as well.

Mulder's sharp and sudden intake of breath is loud enough for Scully to hear from across the room.

She splashes the cold, clear water on her face, making liberal use of the cake of soap that rests beside the basin, and glories in the feel of having truly a clean face and hands for what seems like the first time in forever. She dries herself off with a folded towel that sits waiting off to the side, then turns to look at Mulder. His face is red, but he grins brashly at her.

"So that explains why I never suspected anything before," he says, nodding at the long strip of linen fabric wrapped around Scully's upper torso, binding her breasts flat against her chest. "Very clever."

"It helps that I don't have all that much to hide in the first place," Scully says, shaking out her shirt before pulling it back on, tucking it in, and buttoning it. "My sister Melissa would have had a much more difficult time pulling this off, even if she is taller than me."

"One day, I would very much like to see the way you look out of uniform," Mulder tells her, and Scully feels, for a moment, as though her heart has thudded to a stop in her chest. She's certain that he couldn't possibly mean that the way that it sounded, but still, the thought sends a flash of heat through her. Mulder realizes, immediately, what he's said, and his face flushes all over again, the red of his cheeks matching her own. "That's not what I meant!" he says. "I just meant... I'd like to see how you look when you're... well... you." Scully smiles.

"You mean when I'm all decked out in ribbons and lace?" She laughs as she retrieves her uniform jacket and slides it over her shoulders. "I hate to destroy whatever image you've been building of me in your mind, Mulder, but even before I joined the army, I was never exactly the most feminine of women. I was always a bit of a tomboy growing up."

"Somehow, I have no trouble believing that," says Mulder, standing and stripping off his own jacket, quickly followed by his shirt. "But still... I'm finding it difficult to picture you in a dress, with your hair long and piled on top of your head, wearing one of those ridiculous little hats that ladies find so fashionable as of late."

"I promise you, the chances of you ever seeing me in a ridiculous little hat are quite slim," Scully tells him, as he bends over the basin and washes the dirt and dust from his suntanned face and arms. "But if it means that much to you... one day, when the war is over, once my hair has grown long enough to be braided and put up, I'll come and visit you, and I'll wear a dress." Mulder pauses buttoning his shirt back up and grins at her.

"You promise?"

"I do," Scully says. "But for now, I think we should get back downstairs. Your mother mentioned lunch, and I'm so excited over the idea of a meal that doesn't include bacon, beans, or hardtack that I'm likely to embarrass myself by throwing away my utensils and burying my face in my plate like a horse at a trough."

#X-Files Fanfic #my fic #By the Dim and Flaring Lamps

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thomastair · 7 years

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Could you do a kitty first kiss fic pls?? I'm having a really bad day and I need something to light up my mode

I posted this on ao3 a while ago and I’ve been meaning to post it on here so here you go!

Sparks:

Kit jumped from a rafter hurling a butterfly knife into a target with one hand and drawing a sword from its’ sheath with the other. He rolled into a somersault and came to a halt, panting.

He glanced at the target. The knife was stuck quivering a few inches from the center. He was getting better at that. A few more weeks and his aim would be perfect.

I’ll still never be as good as any Shadowhunter that’s been training since they could hold a knife. He thought dejectedly. He pretended it didn’t bother him, but there was a part of him that regretted the fact that even Tavvy was going to be a “better” Shadowhunter than him one day.

He flicked his sweaty hair off of his face just as a boot collided with his back. The impact sent him sprawling and soon after the weight of another boy was pinning him to the warped wooden floor of the training room.

“Ack!” Kit choked out. He twisted to see Ty’s solemn face staring down at him with a hint of amusement.

“You’d never be able to take a break in a real fight.” Ty said. Sunlight was shining down onto his hair which was distracting, because Kit really didn’t need to see Ty’s face surrounded with a golden glow right now.

Ty stood with the grace of a cat and held out a hand to Kit. Acting out of impulse Kit wrapped his hand around Ty’s and yanked him to the ground. He pivoted so his entire weight was on Ty’s chest.

“You’d never be able to help someone up in a real fight.” He laughed. Ty grinned up at him. His hair was feathered on the floor and Kit became uncomfortably aware of how close they were. He would only have to crane his neck a little to press his lips to Ty’s.

Woah where did that thought come from? Kit could feel his face burning.

“Kit?” Ty asked. His voice still had a trace of laughter in it. Kit realized he had been staring at Ty’s lips for ten seconds longer than he was supposed to. He forced himself to make eye contact with Ty.

He was surprised to see that Ty’s cheeks had a hint of pink to them. Nothing to compare to his undoubtedly cherry red face he presumed, but still.

He watched as Ty’s lashes fluttered. Kit still half expected them to make dark smudges against his cheek bones when Ty blinked.

Ty shifted, moving to rest his hands on Kit’s hip bones. His dark grey eyes filled with curiosity.

It was suddenly very important to have space between him and Ty.

Kit jumped up, startling a small breath out of Ty. He stood awkwardly over the taller boy, not quite sure what to do with his hands. He wiped his palm on his gear and held out a hand to Ty.

As Ty’s fingers closed around his Kit imagined sparks traveling from his hand to Ty’s. Some spark of attraction that only they could feel.

As soon as he was able to he let go, shaking his hand as if that would make him forget the feeling of Ty’s skin. He cleared his throat awkwardly trying to calm his hammering heart.

Ty looked confused. “Did I do something?” He asked, as if worried he had scared Kit away. No no Ty, it’s all me. Kit wished he could say, but he just shook his head.

Hoping his laughter didn’t sound forced, he swatted Ty on the arm playfully. “Nah man come on. It’s just that we’d never be able to stay still that long in a real fight.”

Ty was sitting on his bed. The pages of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s book providing a relaxing rustle. Panic! At The Disco filtered through his headphones as Ty absorbed himself in Sherlock’s world.

He found himself thinking back to the training room earlier that day. What had Kit been thinking? He’d definitely been uncomfortable, but Ty didn’t think that he’d done anything.

And Kit had stared at his lips a little too long. What was that supposed to signal? Social cues were exhausting sometimes, though everyone else seemed to pick up on them quickly.

Ty groaned, tossing his book to the side and stretching onto his back. It was much easier observing people instead of decoding his own feelings.

I bet the internet has answers. He thought. Ty had barely used the computer since Livvy’s death. She had been the only one who could work it as well as he could.

Thinking about Livvy stabbed something deep inside of him. Every time he went to sleep he saw Annabel burying The Mortal Sword into her heart. Blood spraying across the tiled floor, Julian’s scream of disbelief, and the numbness that had overwhelmed him when he realized that his other half was gone. And they were going to become parabatai. You agreed too late and now she’s gone. He thought angrily, digging his nails into his upper arm.

Joints popping, Ty heaved himself into the worn chair in front of the computer. He went through the motions as if this task had a series of steps he needed to check off on a list.

1. Open Google2. Search: What does it mean when someone looks at your lips?3. Search: How to know if your friend likes you?4. Search: How do I know if I’m attracted to someone?5. Search: How to kiss????

“Whatcha doing?” A voice behind Ty asked.

He started, heart hammering. Ty quickly closed all tabs of incriminating evidence and turned to face Kit.

Kit was leaning on the doorframe. He looked like he had just taken a shower and water droplets dripped from his hair to his collarbone. Ty swallowed. “Uhh, just googling stuff…” The lie didn’t sound believable at all.

“Wow, stuff!” Kit remarked sarcastically. He crossed the room and flopped onto Ty’s bed. His wet hair left a dark stain on the quilt.

“Nice to see you using the computer though.” Kit murmured quietly. Ty stiffened.

“Yeah I haven’t really felt like it.”

Kit gazed up at him. “Not since Livvy died?” His voice caught on Livvy’s name.

Ty nodded. Desperately avoiding eye contact. He had a sneaking suspicion that he would start crying if he looked at Kit.

He felt Kit wrap his hand around his. Ty hadn’t realized that he’d been twisting the blankets around his fingers. Kit’s hand was warm and Ty laced his fingers through the other boy’s.

Reminded of the night on the roof in London when Kit had held him tight Ty laid his head on Kit’s shoulder. Kit froze for a second before relaxing into the embrace.

“I miss her too.” He heard Kit whisper as he fell asleep a while later. “I miss her too.”

Kit didn’t know at what point he fell asleep. He didn’t know exactly what time he got up. At that moment he didn’t think he cared.

Ty was sleeping next to him. Kit watched as his chest rose and fell softly. A lock of Ty’s hair had fallen over his eyes. Kit reached over and brushed it to the side.

Ty let out a soft sigh and shifted so his body was even closer to Kit’s. Kit’s heart pattered. Ty looked relaxed, all worry had been smoothed out of the lines of his face by the hand of sleep. No one could have known that he was a seasoned warrior who had lost his parents and twin.

Seized by a sudden inexplicable urge. Kit leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to Ty’s forehead. A feather light kiss that Ty would never know about.

Kit eased himself out of bed, tiptoeing to the door. He had to go somewhere to clear his head. Somewhere no one would look for me. He made his way to the library, being careful not to wake any other residents of the institute.

In the early hours of the morning Kit could pretend he was completely and utterly alone. No other life moved through the halls and the library was abandoned.

He climbed onto a lower bookshelf and leaned against an old dictionary of runes. Diana had made him memorize it when she’d started tutoring him. Consequently he had retained a healthy dislike for it.

After staring at the floor for what seemed like ages Kit heard someone else enter the library. He looked up to see Ty, still wearing a rumpled shirt and rubbing sleep from his eyes.

His heart caught in his throat. He’d thought he’d have a little more time to cope with his feelings before seeing Ty again.

“You left.” Ty’s voice was groggy. Kit swallowed and gestured to the bookshelves.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

Ty nodded. He strode to where Kit was sitting and tilted his head to look up at him.

“I didn’t think you’d come to the library.” He said softly. His eyes were very grey, and while they were always intelligent, right now they were a different kind of intense.

“I just-” Kit started to say. Ty had put his hands on Kit’s knees. No matter how tentative the touch was Kit’s tongue stopped working.

“Can I kiss you?” Kit asked, fearing that he was ruining the only real friendship he’d ever had. For a brief moment Ty hesitated. Kit let out a nervous breath.

Instead of answering Ty reached up and pulled Kit to him. It was a gentle, lingering kiss. Ty smelled like ink and books and Kit could feel his pulse on his neck.

They stayed in that position for a while until Ty pulled away, breathless. He smiled at Kit. For once Kit had nothing to say. He had kissed lots of girls before, even some guys, but this had to be the best kiss yet. Because it was Ty.

After the library Ty wandered towards the kitchen. He wasn’t surprised to see Julian there. He had noticed that his brother had gotten up earlier since Livvy’s death.

Ty sat down. He smoothed the rough material of his jeans. He stared at the way Julian’s hands deftly chopped vegetables. He felt unexpectedly nervous. He didn’t even really know what he was going to ask Julian. Was he going to tell Julian about the kiss? The lack of course of action made him agitated. He twisted his right hand around his left wrist, finding small comfort in the pressure.

“Why are you up?” Julian had turned around and was in the midst of dumping onions into scrambled eggs.

Ty shrugged. He figured he shouldn’t say anything if he didn’t know what exactly he was doing here.

“Can I ask you something?” He blurted before he could reason himself out of it. Julian wiped his hands on his sweatpants and sat down across from Ty. Ty could see Julian was trying his best to exude confident “big brother vibes.” It didn’t ease his nerves.

“Sure,” said Julian. “What’s on your mind?”

Ty bounced his leg under the table. Julian had dark circles under his eyes. Had he gotten any sleep lately?

“Um, yeah. I was wondering if-” Ty could feel heat rising to his cheeks. Keenly aware of how his pale skin would make his blush all the more apparent he continued quickly, hoping to get this over with as soon as possible. Why did he ever think this would be a good idea?

“-if you know how to tell if someone likes you?” His voice cracked on the last word and he cursed himself in his head. In hindsight he thought that since Kit had kissed him, he must have some feelings for him. Ty really didn’t know what he was doing here.

“And you like this person?” Julian asked. His face was probably redder than Ty’s.

“I think so.” Ty deadpanned. He didn’t really want Julian to know he liked Kit. Not yet.

Julian shifted, clearing his throat. “So have you acted on this- attraction?”

Ty looked down at the knot of his hands in his lap. “Does kissing count?”

Julian looked horrified. “Since when are you kissing people?”

Ty groaned, burying his face is his hands. “It’s just hypothetical.”

Julian wasn’t convinced. Ty could see his mind whirring, trying to figure out who exactly Ty would have kissed. Finally he looked resigned and Ty let out a breath. He hadn’t realized how hard his heart had been beating.

“Well if you’ve kissed them already Ty, I guess you just have to ask.” Julian mumbled, as if not sure his advice was sound.

Ty had made that deduction five minutes ago, but he wasn’t going to tell Julian that. He made to leave before Julian asked who exactly he had kissed.

His chair scraped against the tiles as he got up. The sound was unpleasant. It reminded Ty of when people got up too quickly and left things unresolved.

“Good luck.”

Ty turned to see Julian standing at the sink. He wasn’t looking at Ty, but Ty could see that Julian looked pained. A stab of guilt tore through him. Julian had never had time for relationships, thanks to his parental duties. Ty had his suspicions about Julian and Emma, but that wasn’t open to the public, so it didn’t count.

Stepping out into the hallway Ty tucked one headphone into his ear. Glancing back over his shoulder he muttered, “Thanks…”

He walked away before Julian could make it more awkward.

The waves lapped quietly against the beach below The Institute. Kit stared out at the roiling mass of deep blue green, so much like the Blackthorn’s eyes, and buried his feet into the cool sand. The sky was overcast with a cool breeze coming in off the water. The cool weather meant there were less tourists. The beach was quiet around Kit, filling him with a sense of calm.

The soft pad of footsteps startled him out of his reverie. Ty settled on the blanket next to him. The breeze lifted his dark curls and they blew across his forehead in an unruly tangle. On impulse Kit brushed the hair out of Ty’s eyes.

Ty reached up, grabbing Kit’s hand and holding it between them. He wasn’t looking at Kit’s eyes, but his silver grey irises were focused on their locked palms. Kit was certain Ty could feel his pulse through his wrist.

He swallowed, feeling heat coming from where his skin touched Ty’s. Sparks only they could feel. Kit moved their hands down to settle on the blanket he had dragged out in a “romantic” attempt at a first date.

“Tell me about your dad.” Ty said. His eyes were serious. Kit rolled his head back, staring at the clouds.

“What do you want to know? He was a pretty mysterious dude- and all that.” Kit said, attempting to ignore the pang in his stomach that came with any mention of his dad, along with the memory of the ripping sound he had made when torn apart.

Ty let out a disappointed breath. Kit was filled with the urge to tell him anything about the father that Kit knew he hadn’t really known at all.

“He used to tell me to make lists about the people that I met,” Kit murmured. “To take note of their mannerisms and shit like that.” Ty had turned his head to peer curiously at him.

“You have a list for me?” He asked. Kit’s breath caught. He nodded. Far overhead a seagull cried.

Ty looked at him expectantly. The late afternoon light made his eyes almost glow.

“You don’t like big crowds because it’s a lot of information all at once, you find facts comforting because they’re consistent, you don’t like people touching you unexpectedly but you like pressure because it grounds you.” Kit babbled all at once. A part of him wondered if it was creepy to know those things about a person, another part of him wanted to present Ty with details.

“You’re good at reading people’s body language but not voice inflections, you sometimes worry that a social cue is supposed to be obvious so you prefer teaching yourself, you like hunting for clues in books when we’re trying to figure out what demon attacked someone, and you don’t watch too many movies because you like books better,” he finished.

Ty gave him a lopsided smile, his hands had started playing with Kit’s fingers. And you’re still learning how to perfect kissing because you never kissed anyone before me. Kit thought, thinking back to the library and the smell of ink that Ty seemed to carry around with him.

As if picking up on Kit’s thought process, Ty leaned forward and kissed him.

Ty tasted like ocean water. The wind blew his hair into Kit’s face and Kit’s free hand tangled in the dark curls. The kiss was gentle. It seemed like a promise. I’ll never abandon you Ty Blackthorn.

At some point during the kiss they had fallen onto the blanket. Ty’s weight was pressing him into the soft ground. Kit’s heart expanded with a feeling that made him want to drag Ty around the world with no restrictions. A feeling that made him want to kill whoever hurt Ty.

He pulled away. Those feelings were something of a shock. He’d never felt anything like it before. It scared him, this deep longing for something that he really shouldn’t burden Ty with.

Ty was looking down at him with something like puzzlement. He let Kit stand up, brushing off his own jeans and folding their blanket. Kit could see that Ty’s cheeks were pink. The observation filled him with a sense of accomplishment.

He held out his hand to Ty, who was carrying their blanket as they climbed the road to The Institute. Ty’s fingers laced through his and, as their grip tightened, Kit imagined sparks.

#I hope you have a better day anon!#wow this is long #ask hetty #kit herondale #ty blackthorn #kit and ty #the dark artifices #lady midnight #lord of shadows #queen of air and darkness #the wicked powers #the shadowhunter chronicles

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pluviophile-bookworm · 5 years

Text

Thoughts/ reaction to AWAE 3x5

The cold open featuring Beekeeper Gilbert is the golden content I never knew I needed.

Miss Stacy teaching in the midst of nature is gold, but what draws my attention in that scene is the casual mentioning of the birds and the bees that causes half of the girls to get agitated at the thought that they’re finally getting the talk. I see bees are a recurring image in this episode. I admit to not having seen much of this particular scene as I was looking away from the blood.

Gilbert combining his natural talent as a doctor and his new… I wanna say hobby, that is, beekeeping, to help poor baby Ruby is gold. Seriously, this episode has GOLD written all over it in large bold letters and we’re barely 4 minutes in.

“I thought someone died…” The natives calling out the Whites™ for being drama queens have me wondering whose side I am on, and whether there are any sides at all; the fact is, I tend to overreact a lot, but this was a bit too much even for me. But let’s not dwell on this, there are more important scenes coming up and I have already used way too many words.

Yeah… I skipped ahead a bit. The sight of that needle caused me as much horror as it did Moody.

Gilbert ranting about natural medicine not being taught is such a mood. I think taking up beekeeping will do (and is already doing) wonders for his career in medicine.

Rachel babysitting Delly is giving me such strong New Mum vibes… “Please go to sleep”. This is the Rachel Lynde content I never expected to see but I’m glad I did.

And then Delly falls asleep as soon as she hears Marilla’s voice… I’m crying.

“Bash needs a wife” – who are you to decide that for him, Rachel? I was already annoyed with her for trying to play matchmaker for Miss Stacy without being asked to, but this is even more. Marilla is such a mood in this scene.

Matthew being Soft™ to his plants… as if I needed any more proof that he’s a Hufflepuff!

I live and would die for Anne and Diana’s friendship.

I also live for Diana embracing her own feelings rather than her mother’s visions of what’s “proper” and “improper”. And for the hint of her doing it just partially to spite her mother…

Honestly, Gilbert staying inside and reading the paper with Miss Stacy while everyone else is fussing about the Take Notice board is so in character. It emphasizes the fact that he is actually the adult of the class. I wonder what would make him more interested in the board, though…

Anne the Feminist™ is fascinated about the female doctor

Ok, but… who gives Charlie, by “noticing” Anne, and Diana, by walking in on her and Gilbert almost having a moment, the right to interrupt said moment before it’s even fully developed?

Anne is totally me in her reaction to (1) being noticed and (2) the news about the dance.

“Sebastian, take a seat.” If I were Bash in that scene, I would be thinking “How about you stop telling me what to do in my own home?”

Now she wants to take Delly away from him? And she thinks that’s good for anyone? Seriously, Rachel Lynde should mind her own business. But I bet she has no business of her own, otherwise she wouldn’t obsess so much over what everyone else is doing.

Anne’s reaction to Charlie posting about her gives off “Belle Reprise” from Beauty and the Beast vibes.

“Anne Shirley-Cuthbert-Sloane!” Try Anne Shirley-Cuthbert-Blythe instead. And boy, does this girl have a lot of last names! She’s becoming a bit like Hispanic royalty.

Both Jerry and Diana telling white lies to their friends so they can meet up – classic forbidden romance. I love it!

Look at my boy Jerry quoting Frankenstein! I feel like a proud mother – except, of course, for the fact that I am not a mother and I have no trace of merit in this beautiful achievement. Also, the way she holds the book to her heart, like it’s him, or at least a tiny part of him; and the way he looks back at her… I know this is a whole other fandom, but Andi Mack has taught me that lookbacks are important. My fragile little heart is melting! I might be aromantic by orientation, but I’m still a sucker for beautiful, poetic romantic scenes like this one. This is my new favourite scene of the entire series. If I could bottle it up and save it for a rainy day, oh how I would!

The scene of Gilbert and Bash talking about Mary being followed immediately by Matthew talking to Belle about her becoming a mum… I feel that they are a heartbreaking yet heartwarming representation of the cycle of life and death. Moira has done it again.

Also, Anne’s dress in this scene reminds me of the first dress she was wearing when she arrived. It’s a nice callback, if anything.

That scene of Diana reading in bed reminded me so much of me. I know that feeling so well, feeling a special connection to a book, even for some reason outside the book itself. And, sure, Frankenstein is far from the most romantic of books, but now it will forever be a thing between her and Jerry. And that’s in my opinion, is that special external connection to the book.

Aaand… Rachel Lynde didn’t just try to make the practice dance another matchmaking session for her son and Miss Stacy, did she?

I know everybody talks about Anne and Gilbert in this scene, but my eyes were more focused on my spirit animal Ruby – she is so me, being uncomfortable with the whole thing and the touching and whatnot… except in her it is the result of boys and girls being discouraged from making any kind of contact to one another until they’re old enough for courtship according to their community’s standards. What did people at that time think when they did that? That giving young people virtually no sex ed and doing anything and everything they could to keep boys and girls away from each other – did they think this is the way to raise functional, well-informed people? Because seeing poor Ruby here sure makes me think that her society didn’t do a very good job at that. And the fact that all the girls, even the ones that should pass as intelligent and well-read like Anne and Diana, believe they can get pregnant by just the touch of a boy is just another proof that this is not the way to raise teenagers.

One thing that calms me at least a little is that now they have Miss Stacy and she can, albeit a bit awkwardly at first, educate them on the matter. And I love the fact that she mentions consent because that is really important.

And there’s the sugar – the heart eyes, the longing looks, the held gaze… every single trope about looking at someone special is there in that one scene. I love the way they act so expressively with just their eyes. Seriously, kudos to Amybeth and especially Lucas.

Oh my, there it is! That scene from the preview that everybody has been speculating and freaking out about for weeks. I got literal chills, goosebumps and everything. This scene generated a lot of discourse and it was definitely not for nothing.

Oh my, oh my! The dance is done but they just won’t stop staring right into each other’s souls through those fantastically expressive eyes… I might just die right now, but at least I’ll die happy.

Aaand… the moment is gone and now there’s just tension and awkwardness so thick in the air that you could cut them with a knife – and a knife might not even do the job, if you get what I mean.

Ok, I didn’t think things could get any more awkward, but then we have the exchange with Charlie and it’s even more awkward than Moody telling Diana “[her] dress is very… blue” back in the season premiere. But this awkwardness is different. There’s no tension, no real chemistry. At least that’s how I see it.

The parallel between Anne and Gilbert cooking and ranting about the dance and its consequences for them counts as a Shirbert scene, right?

I love Anne with all my heart but right now I wish she could just go away for a second. She’s third-wheeling and making Diana act cold towards Jerry, which might give him the wrong impression and ruin everything…

Also, I wish Diana would confide in Anne about the thing she has going on with Jerry. It couldn’t possibly make matters worse, now could it?

If Jerry was so confused, and then so happy about the handkerchief, it probably wasn’t really his. It must have been left by Diana. The initials, though… the only J.B. in Diana’s family I can think of is Josephine. If it was hers and Diana left it for Jerry, it would be so nice… Ok, why am I being so stupid? She MADE it for him. Especially. J.B. is him and only him right now. Apparently certain other scenes have temporarily deprived me of the ability to think.

The “Is that how reproduction works” scene is awkward, of course, and it is a different, third kind of awkward: not like Shirbert after the dance or like Anne and Charlie after that. It’s that kind of awkward moments that people with anxiety like me think of when they can’t sleep at night. I mean, just imagine asking your big love to give you the talk. Or having to give the talk to them.

Ruby, Ruby, my sweet summer child Ruby… “what has he seen”? He’s literally delivered a child, for one. Unprepared, at that. But seriously, Gilbert being all like “in my medical experience” – okay, we get it, Mr. Mature Adult Doctor. No offense, though, I love him.

That obituary was just about the best homage they could have paid to Mary, and Bash reading the whole thing to Delphine was both heartbreaking and heartwarming. Now that I use those two words for the second time in relation to Mary’s passing, I feel like these are the emotions I feel about it every time. Every single time.

Baby Delly is the most precious little thing I’ve ever seen.

The Barrys are finally doing something really good (I’m not saying they’re bad people or bad parents, just that they can be a little… stuck in their ways) by deciding to help Bash’s family now and realizing they have missed their chance of getting to know Mary while she was there and giving it to them. I sure hope they allow their daughters, both of them, to have the life they chose, not the one that was predetermined for them by parents and tradition and some twisted idea of class distinction and propriety. They deserve to be given that freedom.

The girls’ ritual was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen in my life. How empowering, how beautifully sacred, how emotionally pure and true. And Ruby finally accepted herself as a woman… I relate to that on a deep level because it was hard for me to accept the change from girl to woman when I was that age, too – not so long ago, really. The thing is, there is no real difference between a girl and a woman. I think each one should decide for herself which one she is, and we shouldn’t forget that we have both inside us at all times.

Oh my, oh my! This was honestly one of the most beautiful episode endings I’ve seen on this series and there have been a lot. This baby foal is one of the cutest things ever, a true embodiment of the miracle of life. How fascinating!

So, let’s sum up. In this episode, we saw: the importance of honey; lots of awkward teenage courting; Gilbert going back to medicine; Rachel Lynde sticking her nose into other people’s business even more than usual; Jerry and Diana’s beautiful forbidden romance and character growth; misconceptions about… conception; Shirbert – the whole spectrum of it: awkwardness, tension, angst, heart eyes, lost of eye acting in general; different kinds of awkwardness involving different people, but mostly Shirbert; girl empowerment; and last but not least, the circle of life. I was going to say I want more episodes like this one, but, frankly, I don’t think that’s possible. This was BEAUTIFUL!

#anne with an e #awae #awae season 3 #anne shirley #anne shirley cuthbert #gilbert blythe #diana barry #jerry baynard #ruby gillis #shirbert #anne x gilbert #diana x jerry #jerry x diana #reaction #review #jnkpoetry #jnk poetry #long post #jnk watches awae

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roseamongroses · 4 years

Text

Antithesis: “a babe, a snack, a f-cking heart attack”

[Specific-Summary]: They should expect growing pains. For not everything to feel right or make sense. That doesn't mean it'll always hurt, nor does it mean they can't have fun along the way. It's senior year. Everything may be different. It won't be senior year for long. Everything will be okay.

[General Warnings]: Implied Emotional Abuse, Implied Physical Abuse, Bad Parents are Bad Parents, Mild Sexual Content/jokes,Mentioned Homophobia, Mentions of underage drinking (backround), Some Catcalling,Cursing , Self Hate,implied pregnancy talk/inability to become pregnant, adults arguing where the “kid” can hear it, adults drinking,

[Tags/mood:] highschool au, fluff and angst but its all good, chat fic, teen stress, its flordia no snow we die like men [Pairing:] Roceit (Roman Sanders/ Deceit Sanders), hinted future/possible logince/roloceit/loceit [Characters]Roman Sanders/Deceit (Dmitri) Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Logan Sanders, Patton Sanders, Remy (Sleep) Sanders, Nate Sanders, Dragon Witch (Diana) Remus “The Duke” Sanders (minor/brief)

(Ao3) (Previously) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15)(16) (17) (18) (19)

(20) (21)

D: [Picture of Roman and Logan cuddling asleep. Jpeg] Aw what a lovely couple

R: s h ut u p sh ut u p

D: Hey you were the one who said it was ok to make fun of your crush

R: I SAID THERE WAS NOTHING TO MAKE FUN OF BECAUSE I DIDNT AND DONT HAVE A CRUSH

R: ok i might have said to not bring it up to his face again but that was not an admission of anything deeper then standard thirst ok

R: deeeee yyou’re not responding and your silence wont make me talk

D: Oh I was getting the evidence

[Screenshot. Jpeg]

D: Huh… That seems pretty soft and gay for “standard thirst” don’t you think?

R:....

R: YOU MENTION SOMEONES CHUBBY CHEEKS ONCE. ONCE.

D: It was more then once {Screenshot Montage. jpeg]

R: he has a lovely smile ok!!! And all those dimples and his moles byg od!!!i can appreciate friends!!!

D: and I have beautiful piano hands you think were sculpted from the finest porcelain and should be protected but alright just a friendly friend thing to constantly be thinking about

R: why must youl punish me for speaking the truth????

D: it's apart of the job <3

D: but yeah we all know you dont have a hand fetish or a smile fetish you were just raised on a diet of shakesphere and disney

R: you know,,, boyfs usually don’t yah know e nc oura ge this HYPOTHETICAL behavior

D: I mean if it was someone like Remy then yeah I’d have some issues D: But it’s L so it’s all good

R: remy isnt that bad!!! yall be petty!!!

D: That’s Why We’d Have Issues D: If I have to share I’d at least liked to enjoy the other person’s company

R: thats almost sweet

D: I try

R: speaking of trying… this weekend?? you free???

D: If this has anything to do with a birthday present I Dont Want then I’m suddenly busy with homework

R: lies lies lies lies lieeeeeessssss you barely do homework

D: ;)

R: but really i told you im not getting you a physical gift but we can still go on a date!!!

D: mm sounds like you treating me and thats Illegal and suspicious

R: nope! I want a date! It's entirely for selfish reasons!!!no selflessness here!!! And if we just so happen to end up at one of those stuffy art museums you like or a book signing or two then well dang i guess???

D: what are you planning

R: it's a date!!a cute little date k!!! So you down?

D: Perhaps

R: yee boy

D: If you drive me there <3

R: SLIMY

D: Snakes do not have slime ™

R: yet here we are

D: So?

R:alrigh fuckin bet lets do it

D: Wai D: t wha

---

“Happy birthday!” Roman cheered, crashing into Dmitri.

Without looking up, Dmitri easily caught Roman in his arms, “My birthday isn’t for two weeks,” he sighed, his exasperation being melted as Roman nuzzled him further.

“Mmm shut up,” Roman dragged Dmitri behind him in the parking lot, the school bell ringing, “We had a deal so stop pouting,” he said, sing-song.

“It’s not a pou...Then why are we going to my car,” Dmitri said, expression souring and no it wasn’t a pout, he does not pout--

“Because, ” Roman said, expression sly in the way that always made Dmitri’s stomach flip, “You’re a babe, and I love you dearly, but Virgil’s car is his baby and some lines aren’t meant to be crossed.”

“Uh,” Dmitri ignored his blush, “Noted.”

“I’m surprisingly in one piece,” Dmitri said as they got out, “With all those cute faces you make when concentrating it was a wonder I got out alive.”

“Shut up!” Roman shoved him lightly.

Dmitri caught his hand swinging it between them, “Where are we anyway?” he vaguely recognized the park.

It was one of the smaller ones around, with it’s old, weathered playground blending almost seamlessly with the unruly trees. The discarded toys and cracked pavements so achingly familiar that he had to second guess whether or not he actually could hear children laughing.

Roman looked up at him, lips quirked, “Don’t you remember? It’s where we first met,”

“But we met in 8th--” he stopped as something clicked, his hand drifting to his scar automatically, “Huh, church camp?” he looked at Roman curiously, “There were a dangerously high amount of kids who went there, how did you even know me?”

“We were...always the last kids picked up,” Roman said, "Virgil and I always had each other or Remy to keep each other company, but you…” he got a faraway look and he rubbed his arms self consciously, “You always looked so... lonely...I guess I never really forgot.”

Dmitri sighed pushing a stray curl from Roman’s face, “You’re so sappy,” Dmitri murmured with a fond look, effectively pulling Roman back down to earth.

He didn't bother to linger on the memories for too long, instead pulling Roman along gently, “Let’s see if those rusty swings still work, eh?”

----

“Stop fidgeting,” Roman whined, the flower crown falling limp in Dmitri’s hair. Dmitri continued to ignore his request, choosing to press his face into Roman’s stomach, much to their distress.

“How do you expect me to just ignore such a fuckin’ snack?” Dmitri said, muffled in Roman’s skin.

Sure the ground pressed into him at an uncomfortable angle, but Dmitri had the important job of figuring out if that was a new freckle he spotted. He planned on being thorough. Roman eventually relented to the very important investigation, dandelions falling to the wayside as Dmitri shifted him onto his back.

Even when Roman managed to reluctantly bat him away, Dmitri still looked mighty pleased with his new spot between Roman’s thighs.

“Having fun?” Roma drawled, resigned.

“Always,” Dmitri’s immediately said. He cupped Roman’s face, hair falling in waves around them as he leaned down.

“Mmm,” Roman hummed, the air warm, “Do you want your real birthday gift now?”

Dmitri’s eyes narrowed, “Roman…” he said, warningly.

“Hush,” Roman said, no whine in his tone. Instead, it was of calm reassurance, “I didn’t buy you anything. I just got a bit nosy…”

“What do you…”

“I talked to a few old friends who knew Emile--”

Dmitri stiffed, pulling back, “-- he left without a word, he fucking hates--this town.”

“Dmitri, let me finish,” Roman said softly, slipping a hand on their shoulder and sitting up, “I asked a few of his old friends, got in touch with him,” he explained, “He’s living with a few cousins in California, he’s doing well...and...and I asked him about you…”

“He fucking hates me.”

“No, he misses you.”

----

Dmitri slid into the driver’s seat before Roman could protest and soon enough they were driving back in silence.

It had been a long time since it’s been this...awkward between the two. Sure they have their quiet moments, but it was never like this…. Roman had never done well with silence, even if Dmitri seemed to thrive in it.

Roman twisted his hands, forcing himself to speak, “Dee...I’m sorry if I overstepped your boundaries. I know it’s a sensitive subject,” he said.

Dmitri’s remained intently focused on the road, “You were being thoughtful, a prince as always,” he said with a smile.

That smile.

You know the one.

“That’s some god-awful bullshit,” Roman said, “You're angry.”

“Not at you,” Dmitri said, far too quickly.

“It’d be okay if you were,” Roman said and Dmitri’s face faltered, “As much as you claim me to be faultless, that little conversation about boundaries applies to me as well. It’s your birthday gift, so it’s your choice what to do from here.”

“Does this...gift have a receipt…”

“It can if you want it to.”

“And if I…” Dmitri's voice cracked, but he continued, “If I don’t want it to…”

“I have his new number and you have all the time in the world. Don’t stress about it he’ll understand.”

Dmitri wanted to think Roman was lying. God, he wanted it to be a lie because the truth curled in his mouth like a foul aftertaste. It rose in him and consumed him completely.

He was afraid, so fucking-goddamn afraid.

He saved the number regardless.

---

@daflangstlairde

@ace-anx

@cataclysm-al

#Roman Sanders #Deceit Sanders #roceit #ts sides #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #fanfiction #antithesis

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citrusratz · 7 years

Text

We Can Make It

A Wreck It Ralph Fanfiction from five years ago

Chapter Ten

The next few days following her little talk with her cousin were emotionally trying and exhausting, but not entirely unpleasant. It took them all of three days to make it through the photo album, with how often they would stop at one particular memory and flesh it out together, laughing, sighing, just embracing their backstories.

Remembering when she decided to leave her town was something that stuck out to her in particular. Her parents had been so angry and out of ideas on how to get her to behave that they managed to wrench the brush and bucket out of her hands. They might as well have torn off one of her limbs, she had thought, recalling just how naked and grounded she felt without it. Locked up in her room, curled up under her bed, she had waited feverishly for her mother and father to return home from “getting rid of” her most prized possession. It was for her own good, they had told her. That it was keeping her from focusing on important things, whatever those were, and that without it, she would be able to really find success in her life.

She had always thought that lesson was particularly harsh for a seven-year-old.

When her parents came home, it was quite obvious that they were not going to let her out for the rest of the night. They must have known that the second she smelled freedom, she would be out searching each and every corner of the town, leaping through the woods, turning everything upside-down, looking for her precious brush. She found it cute how they thought sending her to bed without dinner would keep her from going on said search.

Maybe they had forgotten about the window next to her bed. Or, perhaps they did not think that she would risk jumping out of it without her metaphorical safety blanket. That particular night was remembered fondly as when she decided that windows were far better than doors.

Her brush and bucket had been dumped clumsily out in the middle of the tight, thick forest. Finding it was worlds easier than she had anticipated. It was practically one of her limbs, after all, and how hard could it be to find something that was a part of her?

The sun was barely beginning to wake as she stood atop a hill overlooking her town, making a decision that she was far too young to face. She had to leave, and she was not going to be coming back. She cut and colored her hair, made new clothes, even changed the color of her eyes. And as she gripped her brush, her classic winged shoes on her little feet, she came to another decision. She rather liked the name “Mavis”.

And before she could force herself to leave, she orchestrated a literal storm of color over the cold, stone walls of her hometown. Though she never did return to the lands drenched in a spectrum, she did find herself with the knowledge that she was henceforth referred to there as merely “the Rainbow Girl.”

After lapping up that memory with the occasional gag and cough, Make-It promised herself that she would not let her existence end before seeing another storm like that one.

Spending time with Felix, unfortunately, meant spending time with several of the residents of Niceland, and she ended up becoming more familiar with them than she would have liked. They were small, twitchy, curious and strange people. So very simple in their everyday lives, so one-dimensional. Conversing with them felt very similar to talking with particularly boring chunks of drywall.

It greatly unsettled her, the way they worshipped her cousin. Turbo’s fans were horrendous, sure, but completely mindless. These people could clearly think (to some extent), but all their thoughts seemed centered around Felix. It seemed as if Fix-It-Felixism was their religion, and anything remotely suggesting that he was not the savior of Nicelanderkind offended each of them on a personal level. It was just all kinds of disturbing and creepy.

On the upside, though, they made some pretty great pie, and sometimes Felix shared a piece or two with her.

On the third night, a few of the residents were seated with her and Felix, and each of them had their own slice of steaming, moist apple pie. Eating it in a dignified fashion felt like stretching a muscle she did not know she had, and still, every movement she made earned her a perplexed and slightly shocked look from the portly little people. With a sigh, she gave up attempting to appear as a good-mannered guest and scooped up the oozing treat into her mouth mercilessly.

It took all of her effort not to scream in protest when Felix said that he would be right back. Please, she wanted to beg, please, do not leave me alone with them.

Once he did, the most awkward silence that she had ever experienced settled over the room. One of the little women, however, grinned a tiny, sneaky grin and leaned towards Make-It slightly.

“So,” she cooed, “have you and Felix been together since you were just little tykes?”

Make-It pressed her lips together, contemplating if she should speak through a mouthful of pie. She decided that, yes, this was most definitely acceptable. “Kind of,” she grunted, muffled. “I sorta started living with—well, not with, but, uh, near him when I was pretty little. Littler, anyway.”

The woman laughed cheerily, but Make-It could tell how forced it was. “Oh, go on, tell us what he was like! Was he just as heroic as he is now? Did he treat you like a little sister? Did he fix up your knees when you skinned them? Oh, I bet he got you out of all sorts of trouble!”

Make-It took a long while to just stare at this riddle of a woman, her brows knit together, her cheeks still stuffed with dessert. After several slow blinks, she forced out, “Who are you?”

The lady twitched back a bit, offended, but still smiling in a sickly permanent way. “Diana.”

“Okay,” she finally swallowed. “Diana, are you into my cousin?”

“What?”

“Felix. Are you romantically inclined towards him. Wanna go out with him. Dance, drink, wake up lost and naked. That sort of thing?”

“Oh,” her eyes widened, and she looked around at the others robotically, and they all sported the same horrified, flushed look on their faces. “Oh! Oh, goodness! Wow, I! Uh, no!”

“No?”

She swallowed, her head vibrating in an unnatural shake. “No, of course not!”

“Then why,” she put her hands up slightly, as if presenting the idea to her on a platter, “oh, why, do you even need to know any of this?”

Diana’s brows lowered. “Well, I never--! I was just trying to make conversation!”

“Make it with something else.”

“Fine. Let’s talk about you, then,” she folded her arms. “Are you really related to Felix?”

“You’re still talking about my cousin,” she pointed out, setting her plate on the seat next to her and crossing her legs.

“Ohhh!” The little nugget of a woman shook with frustration. “Are you always this impossible?”

“Yes,” she nodded briefly.

“Alright, then, tell me this. What do you do all cooped up in the basement, day and night?” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Make things. That’s pretty much it, actually. I don’t spend as much time down there as you would think.”

Diana lifted her head, peering down her tiny stub of a nose at her. “Really? Where do you go?”

Make-It felt her impish grin slowly crawl over her face. Glancing around at each disapproving face, she knew she could play these people like fat little fiddles. “Usually Tapper’s.”

“Tapper’s?”

“It’s a bar.” As she expected, they looked between each other, clicking their tongues and shaking their heads. “Only the best bar in existence. Just a few gulps and I don’t know what’s up or down.”

“So you get drunk.” Diana deadpanned.

“Wasted, is more like it. Dance and sing on the tables, get the place in an uproar. And I do that until I’m thrown out or taken home by whoever will have me. And when I wake up, I figure out which game I’m in, usually whose bed I’m in, and come home when the arcade opens.”

It took all of her effort not to laugh outright at their little gasps of horror. Diana practically bounced in her seat indignantly. “And you thought I wanted to do that with your cousin?!”

“Heck, I’D do that with my cousin.” She winked, and immediately regretted making that joke. Her stomach did not find it funny at all. The way the Nicelanders shrieked, though, made it worth it. “No, no I wouldn’t. That’s disgusting. Besides, he’s not my type.”

“I should hope that I never encounter one of your type,” one of the others remarked coldly, setting his pie aside as if it were dirty.

“What makes you so sure YOU’RE not my type, hmm?”

“I couldn’t be further from your type,” he spat, folding his arms.

Running through possible retorts, she suddenly remembered Turbo, and how it had been a few days since she had seen him. The way he kept reaffirming the fact that she was coming back struck a guilty note in her heart. A few days is a long time to go without seeing your only friend, she thought with a bit of a frown.

“Sorry to disappoint you,” the little man continued, seeing her mouth pull down.

“What?” She tilted her head. “Oh. Yeah, right, that’s too bad, you seem like a ladykiller. Or something. Hmm.”

“What is it now?”

“Hmm, sorry, just thinking about someone.”

“One of your ‘type’?”

“Uh,” her face tingled with uncomfortable heat. “No, I don’t know, just, this, uh, you don’t know him. Turbo-Time. Racer. Real cuss, almost as much as I am.”

“Hmph,” Diana huffed slightly, looking at her plate scathingly. “He sounds perfect for you. I’m so happy.”

She squeaked in her throat, suddenly finding herself standing, words falling out of her mouth. “I don’t know if I like what you’re implying and I don’t want to figure it out if I do while you’re watching. No more implying and watching. Leaving. Bye.” She strode over to the window, pushing it open and sitting on the sill just in time for Felix to round the corner and enter the room. He paused, taking in everyone’s positions and expressions, and sighed.

Make-It smirked a little at how he did not even have to ask what happened.

“Alright,” he breathed, waving at her. “Seeya, Mavy.”

“Uh,” she lifted a hand out to him, prompting him to curiously come over and let her squeeze his fingers. “Sorry about the mess.”

“What mess?”

“You’ll find out,” her eyes shifted. “I told them some things.”

“Oh, dear,” he sighed again, his shoulders slumping.

“Yeah,” she squeaked, “Sorry, cuz. And, uh, thanks for the pie.” Her eyes drifted to the stout figures seated not too far away, all watching and attempting to hear her. A tricky impulse whipped at her back, and she could not miss another chance to mess with them. She yanked her cousin closer, pressing her thumbs over his mouth and swiftly kissing them. Thankfully, she managed to not actually make any contact with his lips.

The Nicelanders squealed out high gasps and Felix squirmed out of her grip, spluttering and gently whacking her hands away. “Blech, Mavy! What was that?”

Her maniacal laughter made an apology almost impossible, but, still, she had to attempt it as she leaned out of the window. “Sorry, cuz, I just had to freak them out! They deserve it!”

As she fell from the sill, painting rockets onto her feet, Felix leaned out of the window. “Are you going to Turbo’s?”

“Yeah,” she called back, swirling through the air to hover about ten feet away from him. “I figure I should pay him a visit, ‘cause… I don’t know, I just feel like I should.”

“Alright,” Felix nodded. “Go ahead. I’ll fix, uh, this.” He glanced back at the twittering, gossiping people.

“I’m sorry,” she giggled. “Really.” She pulled off one of her gloves and wiped her tongue with her fingers, spitting a bit. It was a stage kiss, of course, but she had still practically kissed her cousin. Her stomach could not be less amused, and it did not miss a second to let her know. She could picture herself lying awake and regretting that moment for the next few weeks. She would just have to try to focus more on how priceless the Nicelanders’ expressions were. Even Felix’s reaction was a riot. “That was actually pretty dumb. I just had the uncontrollable urge to be a cuss.”

Felix shook his head, exasperated. It really was difficult to not feel bad for leaving him with such a mess to clean up. “Go on, Mavy,” he waved her off slightly, nearly hitting his head on the window as he leaned back inside, “don’t worry about it.”

“Well, alright. Toodles,” she saluted as she turned away, spiralling down to the subway port to fly on through to Game Central Station.

Not before getting stopped by the Surge Protector, of course.

“Name,” he began as usual, the little light fixture above his head buzzing a low and bored note.

Landing with a sigh, Make-It flapped her arms against her sides and rocked on her heels. “Make-It Mavis. Fix-It Felix Jr. Turbo-Time. No. And…” she glanced around as she pre-emptively answered his questions, watching her various neighbors stroll by in the fluorescent light, and her gaze fell on something she had not noticed before. On the far end of the station, opposite the massive, glowing, makeshift windows, was a port. It did not have the golden walls of a plug, but it looked much more like a circular subway port to a game itself. It was shadowed and desolate; none of the characters strayed anywhere near it.

She looked to the Surge Protector, who looked thoroughly unimpressed with the way she answered before he could ask. With a slow, tired blink, he managed to get in the last question, “Anything to declare..?”

“What’s that port, over there?” She jerked her head in the direction of the dark tunnel.

His translucent eyes fell to his clipboard. “That’s the wall port. It leads to the wall socket that powers the whole station. Don’t go through it.”

“Why not?”

“For your own safety.”

“What’s in the wall socket?”

He glanced up at her from beneath his furrowed brow. “It’s not safe for game characters.”

“Will I die if I go through there?”

“I strongly advise against it.”

“I see…” She pressed her lips together. As irritating as the see-through little man was, he knew a whole lot more about electrical safety than she did. Shoving her curiosity into the back of her mind, she nodded briefly. “Alright, agreed, it’s off limits.”

“Very good,” he deadpanned, looking back down at his clipboard. “Carry on.”

Not a second after he fizzled out of sight, she was back in the air, shooting down the Turbo-Time port and spinning cheerily. The wind whistled in her ears down the dimly-lit tunnel, and the bright light of the console stung her eyes as she twirled in, a curious sound prompting her to stop just above the tram station.

Even from the farthest corner of the console, she could hear the pulse of music echoing from Turbo’s mansion. It was a wonder that the entire building was not literally jumping, though she did know first-hand how the entire structure rattled with the bass.

No wonder the NPCs had trouble sleeping. She snorted a bit, smirking and shaking her head.

Her heart nearly burst when she felt a tight, bony grip clamp down on her ankles, and before she could register what happened, she was trying desperately to rocket away. A completely murderous-looking blue racer hung beneath her as she swayed dangerously in the air, his sharp fingers clawing up her leg and dragging her down. There was one on the ground, leaping up to grab his partner’s feet and aid in the effort of grounding her.

“HOLY CUSS, LET GO!” She writhed in the air, her balance being thrown in all directions.

“C’MERE FOR A SEC, ‘TOOTS’,” the first one snarled, his fingers only digging deeper into her. “WE JUST WANT TO SORT SOME THINGS OUT.”

She was not buying it at all, considering she had seen friendlier faces on hungry wolves. “Somehow, I don’t think that means you want to talk!”

“OH, WE DO! THAT’S ALL WE WANT, AND THEN YOU’RE FREE TO GO!”

She bucked and tugged and rolled in every way she could, dragging both men against the ground, aiming her jets at his face any chance she had. Before she could land a hit, one of his rough talon-fingers tore her right shoe clear off. It shot away into the air like a bottle rocket, its screech fading out, leaving her with the horrible swoop of gravity as she was yanked towards the ground.

The moment she was at ground-level, everything became a blur of grappling and shoving, pushing, pulling, snarling, yelling, swearing, until she was pinned against the ground by her wrists. The first racer pushed her down without a thought of being gentle, and he threw a command to the other to pry off the other shoe.

Her leg fell numbly to the ground as the jet footwear disappeared into oblivion, leaving only a crackling, untidy stream of smoke in its wake. Staring up at the predatory eyes of the racer, it finally registered in her head how odd this particular man looked without a bloody nose.

“Hi Nose,” she heaved, squirming backwards, only to be pulled back by her feet, a very distinctive grip holding her legs down. Flinching, she whined, “—and Grabby.”

Nose’s face trembled with rage, his mouth twitching and pulling back over his yellow teeth in a terrifying sneer of a smile. His brows raised slightly in greeting and words seemed to be wanting to slip out with his growling breaths, but he seemed just on the brink of losing composure.

Her mouth twisted into a nervous smile, her heart absolutely pounding. Her brush sat just inches from her hands, but she could not move her arms against the force holding them down. The fingers around her wrists tightened like a vice, and she winced against the growing pain. “Uh,” she forced out, “Need something?”

Nose’s breaths seemed to rev, his canine teeth catching his lip, his tongue darting out against his mouth. Before he could completely lose it on her, however, the lower, more collected, yet just as menacing voice of Grabby interrupted him.

“He hasn’t forgiven you for breaking his nose,” he told her calmly, digging his fingertips into her calves, prompting her breath to catch and let out a strangled yelp. Anger began to bubble into his tone as he continued, “And I still haven’t forgiven you for humiliating us. Twice.”

“Hmm,” she hummed, trying very hard to not let her pain show, “twice?”

“You know exactly what I mean,” he barked, shoving down against her. “You wussed out of our deal, then had the nerve to strike one with Turbo.”

“I didn’t make a deal with Turbo,” she hissed. “He didn’t make me do that—ngh – I wasn’t doing that for money or anything—GOD, STOP IT!”

“Stop what?” He leaned harder against her leg, making her bones creak. The pain seemed to tighten her throat and make just speaking excruciating.

“THAT—” she cried out, squirming and wrenching herself in any direction she could manage. Her head swam dreadfully, and she only then realized that her eyes had been squeezed shut. Cracking one open, staring down at the man threatening to break her legs, she saw his completely indifferent expression.

“Why? Why not just break your legs and be done with it, huh?” As he spoke, Nose shook with agreement.

“Better go with her arms,” Nose finally managed to snarl out, his voice dry and ripping. “Then she can’t paint her way out of this. She’ll never paint her way out again. Curtains for little MAKE-IT!” He twisted her wrists slightly, and blazing hot pain rattled her entire code as she shrieked.

“HOLD ON—WAIT, JUST WAIT A SECOND—”

“Think you’re going to talk us out of it, ‘toots’?” Grabby hissed scathingly, the last word dripping like acid from his tongue.

“DON’T—DON’T—JUST—”

A high, airy laugh seethed out of Nose’s mouth. “Look at that, she’s gonna start begging.”

“PIECE OF—” she writhed, hearing her brush clank against the rim of the bucket. If she could just shake it out enough to grab it…

“Her arms,” Nose growled hungrily, “then her legs. Then that GOD-DAMNED BRUSH!”

“Or,” Grabby paused, lifting up his pressure slightly, tilting his head, “we might not. Not yet.”

Nose was not surprised by this notion, but it was obvious he did not like it as he huffed, his gaze burning. His partner continued, “Poor, poor little Mavy,” he cooed sarcastically, and she flinched at the name, feeling righteous fury at this vile man using a name reserved strictly for her cousin. “Lost and scared, over her head in her mistakes. You really dug your grave, didn’t you, sweetheart? I think I might pity you just enough to let you go, whole, unscathed, and alive. If we can strike a deal…”

She swallowed, sweat from the pain beading on her brow. “I don’t like making deals with you,” she whined, barely audible.

“Be that as it may,” Grabby continued, “you don’t have a whole lot of options. It’s the deal or your limbs, babe. Take your pick.”

“Let me hear it,” she squirmed harder, the handle of her brush hopping closer and closer to her nearly numb fingers. Fear burned horribly in her chest, and she tried desperately to push it down, to stay calm, but the looming threat of a permanent death was making her head spin with dreadful vertigo.

“Alright,” he growled, the start of a smirk pulling at his mouth, “we let you go, and you don’t set one pixel in this console again. If you do come back, we’ll delete you out of existence. In other words, we’ll kill you. All you need to do is leave and never come back. Easy, right?”

Her mind immediately said no, but she knew that if she refused immediately, she would lose her limbs and her life. Just a moment more, and she could get away. She just needed them to keep talking.

“What would that get you?” She hissed back.

“Nothing,” he grinned. “Absolutely nothing. Other than, of course, never having to deal with you, or the way Turbo instantly becomes gigabytes more obnoxious when you do show up. And, you know, the satisfaction of him never seeing his little… whatever you are, again. His… ‘toots’.”

“You’re sweet,” she growled, “you know that? God, why do you hate him so much?”

“Why do YOU—” he shoved down on her legs, pushing out a squeal, “—like him so much?! There are no redeemable qualities in that lowlife cuss!”

Panting, nearly letting loose a scream against the pain, she grabbed at whatever words came into her head. “There is one thing, at least—he most definitely – wouldn’t be slowly killing me—against the ground—like this…”

Both of the racers laughed, perfectly in synchronization. “That’s cute. You actually think he’s a good guy, huh? ‘Good guy’ is just a title, sweetheart. If you were helping us, he’d be doing worse things to you. We’re being downright polite compared to what he would do. Little Turbo’s never been afraid of cutting a few throats to get ahead.”

“I think you’re bluffing,” she spat. She remembered Turbo’s rage in the utility closet, and his tantrum in his room over his facial decorations, and the way he pinned her down and tickled her. The memory contrasted horribly with the crushing pain in her bones. “I won’t believe that. He’s not like you.”

Nose spoke up, much to Grabby’s dismay and scowling. “He’s NOTHING like us. He’s weak. Gets everything for nothing. Doesn’t deserve a thing!”

“So,” she breathed, “you WERE bluffing.”

Grabby’s arms twitched against her legs, hungering to punch Nose in the face, who was staring blankly down at her.

“Look,” Grabby growled, collecting himself, settling the quakes of rage through his shoulders, “just leave. That’s all we want. Don’t come back.”

The handle of her brush fell against her fingertips felt like a glorious lifeline, jolting her heart into jubilant hope. In a blink, she gripped it fully, and with just a flick of her hand, a stream of screaming sparks flew up between the two men. They shrieked in alarm, their grips disappearing as they fell back. Hardly sparing a second to love the rush of freedom, her leg jerked up to drive her foot into Grabby’s jaw and her fist slammed painfully against Nose’s teeth with a satisfying crack.

Both men cried out in raging pain and surprise, and her whole body burned with adrenaline as she threw herself to her feet and tried to leap away. She was stopped short by a grip on her ankle, but with her brush in hand, she sliced a vicious blade out of the air and lashed out at her attacker, scoring a deep gash across his face and freeing herself when he screeched in pain.

As he doubled over, clutching his wound with both hands, the other man rounded on her and managed to land a solid punch to her ribs, knocking the wind out of her and sending her toppling to the ground. He was upon her in an instant, but just as quickly, she seized his collar and let the cold steel of her knife dance in and out of his torso. Her frantic stabbing to his gut, chest, and side prompted his code to visibly spark, and he froze for a moment before rolling off of her and spinning out in his death animation.

Not wasting a second, she was on her feet again, and within the next moment, she was hovering a safe distance away. The knife practically flung itself at the surviving racer, knocking him to his side like a bullet and starting his own whirling death.

One after the other, the racers disappeared in puffs of dust, and materialized again on their feet, whole and unscathed, panting with shock and rage.

“Sorry, fellas,” she shook her head, her voice high and grating with the thrill of freedom, “I can’t agree to those conditions. I made a promise that I intend to keep.”

Without pausing for reply, she was spiralling through the air yet again, placing as much distance between herself and them as possible and making a beeline straight for Turbo’s bedroom window. Her heart rattled hotly against her ribs as she desperately pried it open. Killing the flames in her shoes, she rolled in, whirled around on the spoiler of his car-bed, slammed the window shut, painted a lock on it for good measure, and fell back against the blankets, her chest heaving.

That was slightly terrifying.

Any loose objects in the room quivered with the beat of the party below. Rasping, trying to catch her breath, she rubbed gingerly at the ache in her side where she was punched. She tried to focus on the music, let it drown out the pain along with the searing panic in her chest. Truly, genuinely, she had almost been killed for good. That concept warped her thoughts, threw her off balance, sent the room into a sickening spin.

“No,” she breathed, putting a hand to her mouth and wincing at the dull pain in her bones. “No, it’s okay. It’s alright. You’re okay. You’re alive. We can make it. We can make it. We can make it…”

Her breaths steadily slowed, evening out, pulling in long, soothing mouthfuls of air. Yes, she made it. She was okay. Now that the encounter was over, she could really feel just how scared she was. It was the most horrible, humiliating feeling, and it was not welcome in her mind.

She swallowed, slowly and shakily righting herself and sitting up. A swish of her brush created a plastic cup of water, which she knocked back in one gulp.

“Okay,” she breathed, rising to her feet, refusing to let herself shake. “C’mon, Mavis, those nosebleeds don’t scare you…”

Truly, they did not scare her. She grinned at this fact, but her smile was short lived. What she really feared was death. Failure, falling out of existence. Not making it.

She shook her head briskly, clearing the thoughts from her head. There was no time to be sitting around battling her ridiculous fear. She had come to see Turbo, and that was what she was going to do. It was time to see just what his nightly parties were like, and judge for herself if they really were Turbo-tastic.

#wreck it ralph #wir #fanfiction #turbo #fix it felix #make it mavis #writing

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