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worryinglyinnocent · 5 years

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Fic: To the Beat

Summary: Whilst taking her son to dance classes, Belle meets the shy pianist, Mr Gold.

Written for the @a-monthly-rumbelling prompt: “Limelight, sparkle, tap”

Rated: G

To the Beat

Ever since she could remember, Belle had loved old musical movies. Colour or black and white, it didn’t matter, as long as there was beautiful dancing and catchy music, she could watch the magic weaved on the silver screen for hours. Fred Astaire, Ginger Rogers, Gene Kelly, Rosemary Clooney; they were her idols and remained so long into adulthood. She’d grown up wanting to be Judy Garland or Ann Miller (or maybe both at the same time).

She’d never had the voice, but she’d taken tap and ballet lessons well into her teens. She’d never been able to make a career of it, but as a hobby, it still filled her with joy over twenty years later, and watching the glamour and sparkle of the silver screen never failed to make her smile whatever life might throw at her.

Naturally, with so many old movies in the house and with the musical soundtracks always playing in the background to whatever domestic task his mother was performing, it was almost a foregone conclusion that Gideon would inherit Belle’s love for the classics. He watched with gleeful awe as she recreated famous dance sequences in the living room (‘Good morning’ from Singin’ in the Rain was a favourite), and he was tapping his feet in time with the music even before he could walk. Belle had always held a secret hope that he’d follow in her own dancing footsteps, but she didn’t want to force it on him.

It was a rainy Friday in September when she got the first inklings of Gideon’s show business ambitions, when he came home from school in the obvious throes of distress.

“Gid? What’s the matter, love? Did something happen at school?”

Gideon nodded, his brow furrowed as if he couldn’t decide between anger or sadness; once he was sat down on the sofa with milk and cookies and Belle was settled on the floor in front of him, he seemed to have decided on indignation.

“What happened, Gid?”

“We were talking about what we wanted to be when we grew up,” Gideon said. “And I said I wanted to be a tap dancer like Fred Astaire.”

Belle’s heart leapt to her mouth, but she pushed down her excitement, because this revelation was definitely contributing to making Gideon unhappy. “Ok. So then what happened?”

“Then the other boys started laughing at me! They said that boys don’t tap dance, that’s a girly thing!”

Belle was completely blown sideways by this. She’d never even considered dancing being gendered like that before. The famous tap dancers she’d adored in her youth were a mixture of men and women.

“That’s just silly,” she said firmly. “Especially when you told them that you wanted to be like Fred Astaire, who’s very obviously a man.”

“I know that!” Gideon exclaimed. “And the teacher said that too! But then at break, they said that Fred Astaire didn’t count because he’s only in old films, and that these days, tap dancers are all girls!”

Belle resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the ridiculous notions that some kids had had put into their heads, and for a moment she seriously considered gathering all the parents of Storybrooke together and making them sit through her entire musical collection, over 500 hours of it in total.

“Good grief. They have a very narrow-minded view of the world, Gid, and I pity them. If you want to be a dancer, then you can go ahead and be a dancer.”

Gideon’s face lit up. “Can I really Mom? Will you teach me?”

“No, love. I don’t know enough to teach you.” Gideon’s face fell, but then brightened when she continued. “We’ll get you some proper lessons with a professional at the dance school in town.”

Ever since he’d been born, Belle had been saving for dance lessons for Gideon. Well, she told everyone that it was his college fund, which it would have been if this moment had never occurred. Now, she could put that fund to good use.

“That would be brilliant, Mom!” He paused, deep in serious thought. “Would there be other boys there, though? I don’t want to be the only boy.”

“I’m sure that there will be other boys there, but we’ll see when we go along. Shall we take a look on Saturday?”

Gideon’s response was a huge hug, which Belle took to be a definitive yes.

As soon as Miss Mal, former ballerina and current principal of the Storybrooke Dance School, showed them into the room where the beginner’s tap dance classes were taking place and Gideon saw that he was not going to be the only boy there, Belle knew that she had lost him. He was in his element already as the teacher invited him to join in with the class even though he didn’t have tap shoes yet. Belle was just content to watch him, until Miss Mal took her through into her office to sort out the paperwork for getting Gideon enrolled.

On their way to deal with administrative matters, they passed the other mirrored studio, this one set up for ballet with a barre running around the edge, and Mal stepped inside for a moment to speak to the teacher. The class was young, elementary school girls taking their first steps to the tinkling piano music coming from the corner by the door. Belle glanced across at the pianist, a small, thin man with greying hair and dark eyes. As he caught her gaze, she smiled, and he gave a minute smile back before his face flushed bright pink and he turned his attention back to the music, studying it with intensity even though Belle could tell that he must have played the same tunes over and over and could probably do it with his eyes closed.

At that moment, the lesson came to an end, with Miss Mal supervising the curtseying.

“That was very good, girls. Thank you for your hard work this week.”

There was a chorus of thanks to Miss Briar for the lesson and thanks to Mr Gold for the piano, and the girls started to file out of the room. Miss Mal came back over to Belle as Mr Gold began to gather up his music. He kept his head down as he rushed out of the room past Belle, leaving her feeling rather confused and wondering what she’d done wrong.

“Don’t worry, he’s always like that,” Miss Mal said as they continued down the corridor.

No more was said on the topic of Mr Gold, but even after Belle had collected Gideon again and they were on their way home, Gideon enthusing about all the steps he was going to learn, she still couldn’t help thinking about the shy little pianist.

Over the course of the next few months, Belle tried to find out a little more about the mysterious Mr Gold, from the snippets that she picked up from Gideon and what little she overheard among the other parents. She really was intrigued by him, and the fact that he always had a smile and a ready word of praise for the kids, and indeed always had a ready smile and glance for her, but he clammed up as soon as Belle tried to actually talk to him. He had a gift of melting into the background as soon as the music was done, avoiding everyone.

So far, all she had managed to learn was that he’d played piano for the school ever since it had opened, that his son taught adult ballroom dance in the evenings, and his goddaughter was studying for a scholarship to full time ballet school.

She probably shouldn’t be so interested. He was shy and he didn’t like talking to strangers, so Belle wasn’t going to force her conversation onto him. She’d just always liked a good mystery, and all of the other staff were so chatty with the parents.

It wasn’t until the end of term show that she found any answers.

Each of the junior classes performed a piece in the little revue, held on the last Saturday of the term, showing off what they had learned to their parents. Gideon only had a small part, showing off the steps he had learned over the past couple of months, but he enjoyed his time in the limelight, and Belle’s hands were sore from applauding him. She wouldn’t change it for the world, and she would be forever grateful that something that brought her so much joy could also make her son so very happy.

After the performance, there were refreshments, and Belle was chatting amiably with the other parents, Gideon absorbed with his new friends trying to teach himself some of the steps that the older kids had performed and making a fearful racket in the process. She noticed that Mr Gold had once more vanished. Perhaps he just didn’t like large crowds. She hoped that he’d at least got a cup of tea before he disappeared, and his jacket was still lying on top of the piano on the stage so he had to be around somewhere. Belle bit her lip, wondering whether he would appreciate being found or not. They’d exchanged smiles and glances so many times, which she’d always found to be encouraging, but he was never around when she actually had the opportunity to speak to him.

Belle took a deep breath, took a couple of fairy cakes from the refreshment table, and left the room in search of Mr Gold. Once she was outside the main hall, he was surprisingly easy to track down. Piano music was coming from the ballet studio, something beautiful and complicated, a piece meant to be listened to, not danced to.

Belle peeped around the door, but the music didn’t stop; Gold was totally absorbed in it. It was only once the piece came to its coda that he looked up and saw her. He startled, a rabbit in the headlights, and Belle gave an awkward wave, holding up the cakes.

“I didn’t want you to miss out,” she said.

Gold opened his mouth to respond, closed it as if he’d suddenly thought better of it, and then took a deep breath.

“Th-th-thank you.”

With those two words, everything fell into place. Gold didn’t like to talk to anyone because he had a stammer.

“That was beautiful,” she said. “Beethoven, wasn’t it?”

Gold nodded, and he put his fingers back on the keys, playing a light, tinkling tune, his attention still fixed firmly on Belle.

“You son is in the t-t-tap class?”

“Yes. He loves it. He wants to be the next Fred Astaire.”

“He’s g-got the p-p-p…” Gold sighed. “P-p-p… Oh, you know.”

“Thank you. He’ll be so proud to know you think so.”

The music continued on, a little soundtrack to their conversation.

“Music h-helps me t-talk,” Gold said presently. “C-can’t hear myself as much. Gives me something else t-to concentrate on. The r-rhythm helps t-too.”

Belle had read about aiding people with stammers whilst she’d been training as a librarian; it tied in with helping kids to learn to read aloud. Listening to music whilst speaking and tapping out the beats of syllables and sentences were both tried and tested methods, so it made sense that Gold found comfort in playing whilst he talked.

They continued to talk for a while; well, Belle did most of the talking, but it was still a conversation, until Gideon came in looking for her. It was time to go home.

“Bye, Mr Gold,” Gideon said cheerfully.

“G-goodbye. And th-thank you.” He smiled at Belle. “For your p-p-p… p-patience.”

“Any time. Maybe we could chat agaain sometime?”

Gold nodded. “I’d l-like that.”

Belle could have waltzed on air out of the dance school.

#rumbelle fic #A Monthly Rumbelling #rumbelle #Belle French #Mr Gold #Kid!Gideon #Fic: To the Beat

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raccoonwritings · 5 years

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In your bio it says you take prompts, now this is kinda a basic idea but: Eliott and Lucas goes to Party and Eliott gets really drunk and starts flirting with Lucas even though they are already together.

I do take prompts and I really loved this one so I wrote about both Elliot getting drunk and Lucas getting crossed.

Both are under the cut!

Elliot

Lucas makes sure to ask his boyfriend before they head to thepregame if drinking on his meds is safe. He trusts him when he says he’s alreadytalked to his doctors and they’ve approved drinking every once and a while,just as long as he takes all his medications in the morning and doesn’t drink toomuch too frequently. Lucas doesn’t think that’s too unreasonable and so whenthey reach the pregame an hour later, he doesn’t stop his boyfriend from takinga beer or two out of the fridge in rapid succession. He decides it’s best if hedoesn’t drink, though, just in case Eliott gets sick and he needs his strengthto carry his much taller boyfriend’s drunk ass back to his apartment. He canstill have a great time without alcohol.

The pregame doesn’t last long before the entire group headsto a party at Emma’s, Eliott’s hand firmly planted in his as they walk thestreets. Their friends are walking ahead of them, shouting and laughing andencouraging them to move their asses. Hecould see Eliott was slightly buzzed and grinning wildly, and there hasn’t beenanything to cause concern yet, so Lucas watches quietly while he grabs anotherbeer or two or three.

Almost two hours into the party, Lucas is standing in thekitchen with his friends, laughing and scoffing at the inappropriateness of Basile’scomments about girls, which have gotten better over the course of the past fewmonths, with Eliott’s help. He nurses his first and only beer of the evening andlistens to the boys drone on and on about their mediocre sex lives, while he knowshe’s got it good. A loud noise calls his attention to the entrance to thekitchen, where Eliott is propped up on the door frame. He’s noticeably drunkand goofy smiling at Lucas before appearing to sober up, at least a little bit,and strut over to his boyfriend.

“Hey, handsome,” he says, the smell of alcohol on his tongue.Lucas only realizes what’s happening what Eliott smoothing leans against thecounter next to him, a move he has noticed many guys do with him. Eliott’sdrunk ass was flirting with him.

“Hey,” Lucas responses with a pop of his eyebrows. The boysmust be noticing what’s happening because they promptly make an excuse to leavethe kitchen to let Lucas deal with his shitfaced boyfriend. Or maybe theywanted Lucas to get some action, who knows.

“You know, you’re quite the looker,” Eliott compliments andruns a hand through Lucas’ hair.

“Oh, really, tell me more,” he inquires a bit sarcastically,seeming throwing Eliott off his game.

“First, babe, you have to tell me if you came here withanyone,” he requires casually, while his hand comes up to cup Lucas’ cheek.

He moves his face closer to Eliott’s, so that their lips arealmost touching. “Yeah, I did.” He gives him sex eyes, but Eliott doesn’t seemto get the message, because he removes his hand from Lucas’ cheek and takes asmall step back.

“Oh, like your boyfriend?” Eliott slurs slightly.

Lucas snorts. “Yeah, I did. He’s pretty cute, too.” Lucas smilesup at his boyfriend, whose face falls almost instantly.

“Oh okay!” His tone is forced excitement. “I’m just gonna gothen.” Before Lucas realizes it, his boyfriend has left him standing in thekitchen all by himself, dumbfounded. What just happened? He was flirting withEliott, calling him cute and he just walked away? Lucas knows he isn’t understandingsomething, so he goes in search of his very drunk boyfriend.

It takes him a few minutes to weave his way through the crowdsof people dancing, kissing, grinding. He doesn’t see Eliott anywhere in theliving room or dining room and he doubts he could make his way up the stairswith all the alcohol in his system, so Lucas decides the best option would be toscope out the rooms on the other side of the first floor.

The first room he peeks into is a spare bedroom and he findsa couple making out half naked and quickly removes himself from the areabecause he has not desire to see a girl naked. Like ever. The second room islocked, so the option is crossed from Lucas’ list and he heads towards the bathroomat the end of the hall when he hears familiar voices.

“Eliott, what’s going on?” A voice asks. Lucas knows within secondsit’s Imane.

“I j-just, I saw this really c-cute boy standing in thekitchen with his friends, and I went o-over to talk to him and he’s so much cuterup close, Imane, he really is. I’m p-pretty sure he’s the love of my life. B-buthe came here with someone, his b-boyfriend, and he looked so h-happy when hetalked about him. He has this really sweet s-smile, b-but, he’s taken and I can’thave him. He’s never gonna smile about me, Imane.” Eliott was crying hard, andLucas was so incredibly endeared by the fact that his boyfriend was so enamoredby him, even after a year of dating, that he wanted to be the one Lucas wassmiling about. His heart grew several sizes hearing about how crazy Eliott isabout him. His boyfriend is, without a doubt, the sweetest person in the entireworld, Lucas knows this. The only thing about the situation Lucas hates is thatEliott is crying this hard and his boyfriend sensors are up and at attention.He needs to make it stop.

“Eliott, I think you might hav-” Imane cuts herself off whenshe sees Lucas enter the bathroom. Lucas didn’t realize that the rest of thegirls were in the bathroom with Eliott as well. He gives them all a smile.

“Hey,” he says, glancing around the room at everyone. Henotices that Eliott is too busy crying to look at him. His heart breaks andpieces itself back together.

“Hi Lucas!” Daphy exclaims and Eliott looks at him.

“Even his name is c-cute,” Eliott whispers through his tears.Holy hell. Lucas loves him so much.

“Wanna take over here?” Imane inquires, knowing Lucas isgoing to be the only one to settle the crying boy down.

“Yeah, I’ll take over. Thanks girls.” He switches placeswith Imane, who was standing in front of Eliott, and watches all the girls fileout. He starts talking when the door closes.

“Hey handsome, why are you so upset?” Lucas looks at hisboyfriend with a gentle smile on his face.

“Don’t call me h-handsome. You have a boyfriend. That’s whyI’m upset.” Eliott snuffles and boy, Lucas wants to just wrap him up in hisarms and hold him there forever.

“You’re right, I do. He’s one of the sweetest people I knowand I’m completely head over heels in love with him.” Lucas leans up to coverEliott’s cheeks with his hands and wipe away the tears streaming down the loveof his life’s cheeks with his thumbs.

“I’m r-really happy for you, I p-promise, but you s-should prollygo. He might get upset that you’re in here with another guy.”

Lucas giggles softly, “I think this is exactly where hewould want me to be actually. In a bathroom at a house party, taking care ofhis boyfriend’s drunk ass.” His voice is so sincere, and love oozes out of him,especially when Eliott’s eyes snap up and meet his. He hates how Eliott’sbeautiful blue eyes become so overtaken by redness when he cries. He hates whenEliott cries and would give absolutely anything in this universe to make itstop.

“What to do you-” Eliott starts, but gets interrupted byLucas, who pulls Eliott’s face close to his and rubs their noses together.

“You’re my boyfriend, you absolute ninny. That smile you sawin the kitchen was about you. Those smiles are almost always about you. You’remy everything and I’m never gonna let up on the fact that you flirted with methinking that we weren’t together. Just to inform you, we’ve been dating justover a year, and if you think I’ve ever letting you go, you’re ridiculous andmost likely drunk.” Lucas finishes, winded and out of breath and so, so inlove. Eliott is smiling something big and lopsided and Lucas stands up on histippy toes to kiss his boyfriend, who tastes like alcohol and tears, but it’sstill the best kiss in the world because it’s with his boyfriend.

They pull apart and Eliott just stares at him. “I’m so luckyand really drunk, I’m gonna throw up now.” Lucas processes all the words asquick as he can, but not quick enough to avoid Eliott throwing up all over hisshoes. God, he really loves him. He ignores the vomit on his feet and helps hisboyfriend to the toilet, slowly rubbing his back while he heaves into the whiteceramic shitter.

Yeah, he may be a great party with throw up on his sneakersand a drunk boyfriend throwing up into the toilet, but there’s no place he’drather be.

Lucas

“No, no, guys. Him!” Lucas is pointing in the direction of a very tall, very handsome stranger standing in the corner of the crowded living room.

Yann is making sure he knows who Lucas is pointing to. “Him, Lucas?”

“Nooooo! The tall, dark, mysterious one in the black leather jacket!” Lucas whines incredulously. He hears Arthur and Basile snickering and he does know quite why, but honestly he doesn’t care. He has his sights set on that boy and he was going to get him.

“Oh, you mean Eliott?” Yann asks Lucas, seemingly knowing everything.

Eliott. What a cute name. How has he not met him yet? Wow, Lucas is smitten before he even meets him. He has to meet him like yesterday. He slurps down the rest of his beer. “I’m gonna go flirt him up!” He hops up from the couch, noticing Yann’s smug expression.

“Yeah? Gonna go flirt him up?” Yann smiles then holds his drink up to his lips.

“Yeah, Lucas, go get him!” Arthur laughs and gives him a reassuring pat on the back. Basile gives him two thumbs up and Lucas is good to go. He’s totally got this in the bag.

When he looks to find Eliott, he’s disappeared, presumably into the kitchen, because Lucas hears what he assumes is his voice. It’s the only beautiful one he’s heard all night. He follows the sound and finds Eliott leaning up against the counter, chatting with an objectively pretty girl. No, absolutely not. He will not allow this girl to flirt with his future man. He rudely interrupts their conversation and finds that he doesn’t really care.

“Hey, sweet thang.” In retrospect, not the smoothest thing he could say, but he’s intoxicated, so he’s not exactly thinking with the most clarity.

Eliott turns to him and he wants those eyes on him all the time, all day everyday. He eyes Lucas up like a piece of candy and the look sends signals straight down south.

“Hey babe,” his smooth voice almost makes Lucas’ eyes bulge out of his head. His ears are melting and his heart stutters at the ‘babe’.

Time to turn up the charm. “You come here often?” That’s one of his best lines, he knows.

Eliott raises his eyebrows, and smiles. “All the time babe, don’t know how I could’ve missed a pretty face like yours.” Fuck, this guy was good.

“Guess you’re not observant then, cause I’m here all the time, handsome.” The last word was involuntary. Sometimes his brain adds unnecessary words to his sentences. He doesn’t appreciate it.

“Aw do you think I’m handsome?” Eliott giggles and gives Lucas a big smile. The smile is mesmerizing.

“Mhmm very pretty,” he blurts out, but doesn’t bother to feel embarrassed. He does hear something behind him though, and when he turns he sees his friends standing there nearly shitting their pants with laughter. What’s so funny? He frowns. He’s just trying to get some from a cute guy.

“Why the frown?” Eliott looks at him curiously and with concern. He’s just about to tell him why when the thought occurs to him that he doesn’t even know if Eliott is single. He can’t flirt with a taken man, he doesn’t roll that way.

“Are you here with anyone?” Lucas’ eyes bore into Eliott’s. Eliott stands there for a minute too long and Lucas is dreading the answer.

“Nah, babe,” Eliott is speaking and there are hands settling on his ass, pulling him forward and positioning him right in between Eliott’s legs, “I’m all yours.” The last words are whispered into his ear right before he feels Eliott nibble on his earlobe. Lucas lays his palms on Eliott’s chest and leans into him. The nibbling on his ear stops, “mhmm babe, are you crossed? You reek of weed and booze.”

Lucas ducks his head and suddenly feels the need to pull away, but when he does, the hands on his ass keep him right in that spot. “I may have smoked and drank a bit. I get it if you don’t want to hookup with me.” The hands apply pressure, and Lucas gasps. One of them peel off and take Lucas’ hand, guiding it towards his crotch, which Lucas feels is big and hard. Fuck.

“You have no idea how much I want you. Can you feel it?” Eliott makes Lucas’ hand cup the tent in his jeans and his thoughts are running rampant. Eliott wants him. This has to be a dream. Lucas hopes it never ends. “I just want to make sure you want this.”

Lucas thinks his head may snap from how fast he nods his head. “Please.” It comes out way more whiny than Lucas intends, but he doesn’t care. The next thing is feels is Eliott’s tongue in his mouth and he sighs obscenely. There’s another noise behind him, but he doesn’t bother to look or be concerned with it. Whatever it is, it isn’t bothering them.

They continue like that for a few minutes, with Eliott eventually pressing him up against the counter and grinding up on him before Lucas takes a pause. “Baby, what’s wrong?” Eliott asks, brushing a piece of hair from Lucas’ fallen quiff out of his face. Everytime Eliott calls him a variation of ‘baby’, he can feel his cheeks flush.

“I’m a little tired,” Lucas says, playing nervously with the zipper on Eliott’s hoodie, “can we go back to your place?” he briefly glances up and can only see fondness on the boy’s face.

“Of course cutie. Let me get my coat.” Lucas nods and Eliott jogs off in search of his jacket. When he does return, he smiles at Lucas and puts an arm around his waist with the purpose of steadying him, but Lucas just thinks it’s because Eliott wants his hand there, which isn’t entirely untrue.

They leave the party, not even bothering to say goodbye to the boys, because Lucas is going to a hot guy’s house and there are way more important things to think about. He can feel Eliott’s hand in his and enjoys the walk thoroughly, despite it being slightly chilly out. Scratch that, it’s very chilly, but that might be because Lucas isn’t wearing a jacket or any outerwear at all, really. He must of left it at home or back at the party, maybe? Oh well, it doesn’t matter now, except Eliott seems to notice it.

“Are you cold, babe? Would you like my jacket?” Lucas hates saying yes, but he’s very cold so he nods shallowly. Eliott smiles as he shrugs his jacket off and holds it out for Lucas to slip his arms through. The first thing he notices about the jacket is that Eliott is big. Either that or he just enjoys oversized clothing because Lucas is actually swimming in it, but he doesn’t care. He’s warm and cozy and honestly a bit sleepy. His yawn signals that to Eliott, who inquires about it and when Lucas agrees that yes, he is just a bit tired because it’s late and he’s very intoxicated, Eliott takes it upon himself to scoop Lucas up bridal style and carry him the rest of the way to the apartment.

Lucas must have fallen asleep somewhere between where they were when Eliott gave him his jacket and Eliott’s apartment because he wakes up in a cozy bed under blankets and no jacket. Eliott isn’t here, but he can hear movement in the bathroom and assumes that’s him. When he enters his bedroom, Lucas’ mouth waters a little bit. He’s shirtless, and in just boxers, and Lucas wants to keep eyeing him up and maybe even jump him like a tree, but his eyelids are competing with that desire.

“Hi baby, how are you?” Eliott says, noticing he’s awake when he crawls underneath the covers with Lucas.

“Mhm good. Cuddle me?” He asks, not a shred of shame evident in his voice.

Eliott does so immediately. Soon, Lucas is warm because of body heat and blankets and snuggles into his chest, falling asleep easily and resolving to definitely asking Eliott out on a date when he wakes up.

The next morning, he awakens in the clothes he wore to the party last night and with a pounding headache. His boyfriend pulls him closer and snuggles into the crook of his neck so he can sleepily make fun of Lucas forgetting that they were dating. Lucas denies that ridiculousness, because how in the world could he ever forget that he was dating Eliott? Well, thanks to Yann, Eliott now has video proof and will not be letting Lucas forget this for a long time.

#prompts

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onceuponaprincessworld · 5 years

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Captain Swan Complete MC p.5

Happy New Year everyone! To celebrate I made a rec list with complete fics that deseve all your love and comments! Happy reading!

If you are intrested you can find my other lists here.

To Play the Game (and win your heart), @hookedonapirate

Some people would call it a job, but to Emma and her sister, Milah, it’s a game of the heart. Play by the rules and you’ll never get hurt.Whatever you call swindling wealthy men out of their money, this con-artist duo has it down to a tee. Milah sets up an available, rich man and gets him to marry her. Emma seduces and lures the husband into having an affair so he’ll get caught in the act. He then loses his money in the ensuing divorce.The sisters wear a coat of armor around their hearts to keep them intact, but when they set their sights on their next mark, professional golfer Killian “Hook” Jones, Emma never imagined how hard the game could be and how easily her heart could be stolen—especially when she switches roles with Milah and becomes the one exchanging vows with the gorgeous multi-millionaire.

Finding The Altar, @profdanglaisstuff

The only person Killian Jones loves more than his best mate David Nolan is David's sister Emma Swan. He knows he can never act on his feelings... but what happens when she acts on hers?

On the Two, @lifeinahole27

He’s one or two solid days of drinking away from needing to check into AA, and she’s one performance interview away from being able to move closer to home. Their paths were unlikely to cross until they end up in the same place and find a way to help each other out, even if they don’t realize it. How and why they meet and intertwine is against the odds, and definitely against the rules.

Single Riders Won’t Stay Single, @let-it-raines

Emma Swan gets in the "single riders" line for a rollercoaster only to be paired with a handsome stranger for what turns out to be the ride of her life.

Alii dimidium Lunam (The Other Half of the Moon), @artistic-writer

Mongrel Killian Jones, packless and alone, finds Emma by chance in a bar, but she neglects to mention she is running away from her pack responsibilities...responsibilities that her strict father and alpha, David Nolan, expects of his only child and heir to the Misthaven pack. None of which include falling in love with a mongrel. Loosely based Lady and the Tramp AU.

Beastly, @xemmaloveskillianx

Meet Killian Jones. Attractive. Wealthy. Arrogant. He has it all… until he becomes aggressively unattractive outside as he is on the inside. Cursed to find someone that can see him better than he can see himself, he hides away, because who could ever learn to love a beast?

The Crucible Curse, @kymbersmith-90

A chance encounter on the morning of her first day at work results in Emma meeting a mysterious, heavily tattooed, pretty-eyed Irish man. But there are some secrets he's not yet willing to share with her.

Hook-Echo, @initiala

They're in a rut. That's what Deputy Emma Swan tells herself over and over again as her boyfriend, Killian Jones, grows more and more distant, and more frustrated, due to complications with his dissertation research on tornado formation. But storm season's more than halfway over and this dry spell is doing nothing to make things easier for him--or their relationship. Will everything blow over, or is there a greater storm on the horizon?

Holding On to Pieces of Us, @ilovemesomekillianjones

One year after the disappearance of the love of her life, Emma Swan is struggling. She’s losing hope, consciousness, and she might be losing her mind. After receiving life altering news, Emma will be faced with more than one difficult decision. Her choices seem bleak, until a new choice is offered, one she couldn’t have fathomed even in the crazy hallucinations she’s been having. Will she embark on a future that’s different than the one that was ripped from her just one short year ago?

The Gift Receipt, @welllpthisishappening

It genuinely makes sense in her head.

After all, Mary Margaret is being Mary Margaret and Emma just needs five seconds to herself and for her friends to get off her back and saying she can’t talk to Killian Jones because she and Killian Jones once went on a very bad date is the perfect excuse. It’s also not true, but whatever. It works.

Until Emma needs to bring someone home for Christmas. To get the entire town off her back. So, she comes up with another plan and another lie and pretending to get back together with a guy she was never actually with will make their inevitable break-up incredibly easy. It makes sense. Seriously.

That is, of course, until Killian agrees and there’s far too much pie and radio hits of the 70s and opinions on animated Christmas classics. It gets a little more complicated after that.

The Princess of White Chapel, @katie-dub

Dr Killian Jones is having a terrible day. He’s got a mission, he’s got a time machine, he’s got … drunk. What could possibly go wrong?

The Dancing Thief, @trueloveseyeroll

Pretending to be a noblewoman might be the dumbest thing Emma has ever agreed to do. And she’s not sure if meeting Lord Killian Jones made the whole thing better or worse. (Better. Definitely better.)

#cs ff #cs fic #cs au #cs rec ff #cs rec fic #cs recs #cs fanfiction #cs fanfics #cs rec list #cs recs ff #my rec list

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bujeetles · 5 years

Text

a very messy (m-rated) panda shrine avengers fic. to the two people reading this, hope you enjoy!

Peter Orso fucking hated his boss. He had always disliked Francis Monogram, his blatant favoritism towards the main branch and his upper management outlook were bad enough, but this? This was the last straw.

“Ah Agent P. Apologies for calling you on your day off.” he said through Peter’s watch, voice fuzzy and picture weak, because Peter had been hiking, and there wasn’t much signal on the mountain. He didn’t actually sound apologetic at all.

“As you’ve probably heard, some of the Avengers were recently in Danville, and OWCA had a manner of cooperation.”

“So?” he signed, raising his eyebrows even further than was probably necessary.

“Director Fury feels it necessary to set up protocol, in case a similar situation arises. We have elected to send you as the OWCA liaison.”

Peter bit the inside of his cheek to avoid a growl, because seriously? They were shacking this bullshit paper-trail nonsense on him?!

“Why not yours?” he asked, carefully steeling his face so it comes out neutral, instead of infuriated. After all, Agent Perry, Codename Platypus, had been the heroic savior of the hour, or whatever. (The pictures were pretty fun to look at, if he was honest. Very Silver Age.)

“Our Agent P is busy.” He said, like that was any excuse, they were all busy. “Seeing as your nemesis is currently...offline, you are our best option.”

Offline. What a lovely little euphemism, so peaceable, so voluntary sounding. How utterly bullshit. Mystery wasn’t ‘offline’, he was missing, he might even have been abducted, though Peter didn’t have enough evidence to say one way or the other. But Monogram could never say something like that, it would imply he gave a shit. In fact, he was probably actually sending Peter because he was tired of him using paid time to look for Mystery.

“When.”

“There will be an agent waiting as soon as you arrive back in civilization, Agent P. Do hurry.” he said, and hung up.

Fucking asshole.

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

Peter finished his hike, but there wasn’t any of the peace he’d hoped for in it. He had thought, being away from the city, he might think of some way to find Mystery. It was strange, he’d always been a thwart and run kind of agent, never staying with one person for long. He’d seen every type of evil there was and some things that weren’t so morally defined. He was unattached, and he was good.

And then Mystery, who never told him anything, and yet he was drawn back and back again, in his traps, in his non-specific monologues. After the kidnapping turned coffee date, they’d gotten closer to traditional, what with overarching the tragic backstory out in the open, but Peter kind of liked the not-knowing, having to figure it out from what little he did know.

Now he wondered, if they were normal, functional, healthy nemeses, maybe he could find him. But they weren’t. They were weird and wrong and made for each other.

He shook those thoughts away as he made his way into the parking lot, he didn’t like Monogram at all, but most of OWCA was solid. He couldn’t afford to let them down just because of his situation.

At first, he didn’t see anyone. The lot was empty, mini-vans and sedans everywhere, the occasional non-family car. His motorcycle. One blink later and there was a woman, tight-laced, no nonsense, gray suit. Very obvious, as far as secret agents went, but well, SHIELD was secret only in name, so perhaps it was appropriate. He walked over to her.

“Identification.” she said, in lieu of hello. Not exactly incognito. Still, he fished out his OWCA ID and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“I thought Agent P worked in Danville.” Peter sighed. Monogram really was leaving it all to him, huh.

“You sign?” he asked, because he hadn’t brought his notebook with him, since it was his day off. He could use his phone if it came down to it, but he didn’t like to. The brightness hurt his eyes.

“A little. Mostly military. You might have to finger spell.” she replied. Not ideal, but at least she wasn’t forcing him to write, nor was she being rude about it.

“Not that Agent P. He’s Platypus. I’m Panda.”

“Weird naming system you guys have got going on.” she said, and he snorted, because she didn’t even know about the alliteration convention, or Agent CH out in Arizona, or was it New Mexico?

“I’ll have to verify your identity on the Helicarrier, but I was going to do that anyway. Let’s go.” she said, and before he could ask their means of transportation, he saw the light gather around him, his stomach start to lurch.

‘Shit. Teleportation.’ Was his first thought. His second, ‘I’m going to pass out.’ He was right.

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

Peter woke up on a cot, with a headache and no sound. He could still feel the vibrations of the Helicarrier under him, but his aides were gone. Not on the table, not in his pocket. He swore under his breath, he’d already been on his spares, and OWCA insurance always fought tooth and nail when he requested a new pair. He wondered if SHIELD would pay the bill, this time. It was clearly their fault.

Something hit him in the head, not enough to hurt, but to get his attention, and there was a guy in purple and black spandex in the door, grinning wide. Peter didn’t pay a lot of attention to heroes, but the bow slung over his shoulder was a bit of a dead giveaway. Hawkeye.

“New aides, if you want.” he signed, and it was confident, natural. Peter’s gaze flicked to his ears, the curling piece of plastic resting there. Huh.

“Didn’t know Hawkeye was deaf.” he said as he stood, tucking the box into his pocket. He didn’t really want to hear what he was feeling, not with the headache he was sporting.

“Try to keep it on the down low. Villains and all.” he said with a shrug, which was fair enough. “You’re from O-W-C-A, right?” Peter nodded.

“I’m supposed to feed you to the sharks, but as we are deaf bros I’m obligated to save you.” There was a dramatic tone to his signs, almost like he was performing. It made Peter smile. Perry was the only other person he could sign with easily, and he was all quick and efficient, like he was briefing someone. Of course, that could just be the circumstances. You thwart a taken nemesis one time and it’s all icy stares thereafter.

“Where to?” he asked, and Hawkeye grinned.

“We’re here to debrief, which means the gang is all here. How’d you like to meet the Avengers?”

He’s woken up to worse suggestions.

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

The first place Hawkeye inelegantly dragged him is a lab. Probably. Everything’s so techno-futuristic around here that it’s hard to tell. The occupant helped. It’s Iron Man, or Tony Stark, seeing as he wasn’t in the suit, poking away at screens and looking sleep deprived.

He wasn’t perturbed by their sudden entrance, at least, Peter was pretty sure he wasn’t. The damn screens meant he couldn’t see his lips, though they were moving so quickly he would probably have had trouble anyway. Well, couldn’t all be winners like Hawkeye, he mused, and popped the new aides in.

“-not to mention non-ripable pants for the Big Guy.” Huh. His voice wasn’t quite so deep, outside the suit. “Who’s your friend?” Stark asked, flicking the screens away. Bit late, but whatever.

“He’s the OWCA liaison, Agent P.”

“OWCA?”

“You know, the whole Danville thing?”

“Christ, is anyone ever going to let us live that down? Those kids were good though, hope they take up my offer on that internship.”

“Benefits of not having superpowers to take.” Hawkeye teased. Stark rolled his eyes.

“I don’t have powers either, dipshit. My suit is more zap proof now, though. So, what’s Agent P - you got something else I can call you? Seems a bit Men in Black.”

“Panda.” he signed, and Clint translated.

“That’s what the P stands for?” he asked, incredulous.

“Your name is Iron Man.” he deadpanned.

“Fair enough. Whatcha’ doing here, Agent Panda?” he asked, a little sing-song, like he was echoing.

“Avoiding my responsibilities.”

Stark laughed at that, long and deep, until his breath couldn’t sustain it any longer.

“I like this guy. OWCA might not be so bad.” he declared, clapping a hand on his shoulder. Peter should have stayed quiet. OWCA did not want to get on the bad side of literal superheroes, and overall it did a lot of good. But it felt wrong, not to forewarn him.

“My boss is a jackass.” He wore a scowl as he said it, his teeth grinding together in frustration. His rage had faded a little, being in Hawkeye’s company, but it was back now, and it burned.

“Oof. We’ve all been there. What’s his particular flavor of jackassery? Let me guess: bad insurance, overworked and underpaid.” Stark commiserated.

“My money’s on non-ADA compliance and subtle but consistent bigotry.” Hawkeye chipped in.

Neither of these accusations were wrong, and it’s not like Peter enjoyed them, but they weren’t the reasons he really hated Monogram enough to tell superheroes about it. He wondered if he should tell them the truth of the matter. Maybe they could actually help.

And honestly? Peter was desperate.

“My...” He paused. He couldn’t call Mystery his nemesis, it was a different term on their level. Part of the reason Peter didn’t pay attention to heroes was the evil that followed them, he didn’t like thinking about the cursed red Nazi still walking around. He was happiest when things were on OWCA’s scale. Preventable, personal, often petty. It was evil still, and the more extreme scientists might even be thrown in jail if schemes turned deadly, but for the most part? OWCA prevented the smart and broken from destroying the world by giving them something to do. With that in mind, the term he did use wasn’t technically a lie.

“My partner disappeared last week. He doesn’t want me looking for him.”

Stark and Hawkeye shared a look, one that conveyed information he wasn’t able to decipher, a wordless (and signless) conversation which ended on agreement.

“Let’s call the Cap.”

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

Everything after that was a bit of a blur, if Peter was honest. Captain America asked for everything he knew about Mystery’s last whereabouts, he told him. It wasn’t as hard as he thought it might be, not mentioning the villainy. Mystery was so closed off even his intentions weren’t obvious to see.

He’s about 70% sure they think Mystery is his lover, which is funny and fucked up and only two degrees away from the truth. There was something kinetic in animosity, similar to sex, and he’s not going to pretend he hasn’t thought about combining the two with Mystery. So many secrets he could unravel under his tongue, his fingers, and he could just kiss him and kiss him and never stop.

Reality wasn’t that kind. Reality was in the forms he finally picked up, another gut-wrenching teleportation, an empty apartment and a vague promise of news that might never come. Reality was insomnia, coffee he had to pour down the drain because one of the few things he did know is how much Mystery loves it, and he’s not here. Reality was tears that didn’t count because his eyes were still closed.

Reality could go fuck itself.

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

Four months went by, slow as an ocean current, before Hawkeye - civilian name Clint Barton - texted Peter an update that didn’t include some sort of apology. A photo of a rumpled looking man in a mask with the eyes of a cursed spirit, and a caption that killed in understatement. “he’s kind of grumpy, isn’t he?”

“Yes, yes he is.” he texts back, immediate.

“your bf is kinda dumb, you know”

“like brilliant and whatever but also”

“the only reason he disappeared is b/c of some very illegal wormhole manipulation”

“good luck with the charges on that”

“I’ll manage. When can I come and get him?”

“we were just going to drop him off tbh; you don’t have a good history with teleports”

“also wtf i can’t believe you had us calling you panda for months when your name is actually peter”

“aww he’s asking if you saw anyone else while he was gone”

“I mean he said thwart which is a bit of a weird word choice but seattle so who knows”

“No. I’ve been on desk duty this whole time. I got offers, but I refused.”

“double aww I told him what you said and now he’s all flustered”

“anyway meet us in this field in like an hour”

Peter put on his fedora and googles, sent an email about stopping his nemesis, his nemesis, who was back! He followed the coordinates to a park barely inside Seattle city limits, a little squalid, cameras broken or unattended. All the better for SHIELD’s fake secrecy agenda, when four people beam out of the sky. Thor and Hawkeye were holding Mystery steady, while Dr. Banner - Hulk or not the man had doctorates, while Peter had barely survived grad school - looked on with vague concern.

“Don’t you have somewhere better to be, Peter the Panda.” Mystery growled as he righted himself, and oh how he had missed it, the insults, the banter.

“Not at the moment.”

“Peachy. You know, in another dimension, you’re an actual Panda. And you still left me for Doofenshmirtz. Not exactly encouraging.” he accused, moving towards him, one, two steps.

“He’s not a bad night’s call. But you’re my nemesis.”

Mystery’s eyes went wide, and Peter regretted every second he’d spent stepping out, in downplaying how important Mystery was to him, because it was so obvious in his retrospect.

“You mean that?” he asked, a tremor muffled under fabric. When Peter nodded, the distance between them disappeared, the knife glinted against his throat.

“Very well, Peter the Panda. I will take great joy on obliterating you and bringing havoc upon the entire Pacific Northwest,” He pulled away and smirked. “Tomorrow afternoon. Don’t be late.” With that, he strode off into the depths of the greater Seattle area.

“Did we just rescue a super villain?” Hawkeye asked, blinking furiously.

“OWCA business. Don’t worry, he’s mine.”

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p-artsypants · 6 years

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P-Artsypants FanFiction Masterpost!

I have all these links available on my main page, but I’m providing this post for those that didn’t know that!

Find most, if not more, of these fics on:

fanfiction.net | archive of our own | wattpad

How To Train Your Dragon

Drabbles (~AU’s, *Finished):

The Vikings Have Their Tea (ff.net | ao3)

Arranged marriage- Takes place at the beginning of HTTYD

Breathe- Survival of the fittest

~Childhood friends- At the Sandbox

Easy fix- In which Hiccup has a bad day

~Fashion designer- Astrid needs a fill in

Headache- In Which Hiccup hits his head….really hard

Heir- In which Hiccup is borrowed

Illness- In Which Stoick is a dad

~Illusionist- Trick gone wrong

~In the walls- In which there’s a poop ghost

~Knocking on the wrong door (2) - A chance encounter

messages- Astrid is Frustrated with Hiccup’s obliviousness

~To mirkwood- Hiccup is not a dwarf

~Monster falls- Hiccup and Astrid take a dip

Mute- In which there’s a quiet stranger

~Music video (ImgHS)- He didn’t expect it

~Over- Too many nightmares

~Partners in crime- A normal day at work

~Pirate- Astrid is the greatest treasure

~Prince- He doesn’t want to be a broken King

Hide and seek- Part 1

Lost and found- Part 2

Long fics:

*Infernal responsibility- Being the son of the chief takes brains, courage, and a lot of patience. But at his father’s the request for marriage, Hiccup decides he has had enough. When he seeks out a life of ease, he runs into more than what he bargained for.

*Roses and lilies- “Astrid, you and I both know you’re much tougher than I am. You’re more brave, and a better fighter…but just for a little while…could we pretend that I’m the one protecting you?” “Oh gods yes!”

*~What the water gave me- The sea is a wild and dangerous thing, something that cannot be foretold or predicted. Hiccup discovered this many years ago, in human naiveté. Yet, what was meant as a sacrifice became a new life, one like no one could comprehend. He now finds himself once more in the unknowing hands of those that sentenced him to death. He only prays things will be different this time. Merman!AU

*Parasite- Soulsnatcher Dragons are rare but deadly. But, As Hiccup finds out, it’s the eggs you have to watch out for.

*~320 state street- Gobber’s Goods. A Hardware Store that was rumored to have everything you needed. She thought she only needed a job. Turns out, she needed a lot more than that. (A Modern AU no one asked for)

*~The north tower- When Finn Hofferson died, Astrid inherited his castle in Wales…and a whole lot more. Something sinister lurks in the North Tower.

~Boy Toy- AO3- At the age of 21, Princess Astrid lawfully has to pick a husband. But when the perfect groom is nowhere to be found, she requests the toymaker to create one for her. It's safe to say that everyone in the kingdom is a little concerned. (Pinocchio!AU I guess?)

Trollhunters: Tales from Arcadia

Arcadia or bust- In Which Arcadia welcomes back it’s underground citizens...eventually!

Teen Titans

Oneshots:

~big brother- Don’t turn out the light (Horror)

dear jason- Bruce Writes a letter

forgotten- Starfire’s birthday

it was an accident- Someone has to take the blame

just drawing- Bruce thinks about Robin

piece of heaven- Robin just wants his mom

rockin’ robin- Robin regrets his name choice

the prisoner- Starfire is Guilty

this little light of mine- Starfire’s not having a good day

this is what we do- Average day in Jump city

wastelands- Stranded

of mustard and three foot purple tongues- A collection of Oneshots and Drabbles

Long Fics (*Finished):

*~carol of the bells- High in the dark Bell Tower of Notre Dame, there lives a mysterious bell ringer. Legend tells of the angel who fell from the sky, and the curse she bares. There are few who know her true identity though; her master, the priest, and the acrobat that performs on the streets below. Based loosely on ‘The Hunchback of Notre Dame’ RobxStar and slight BBxRae

*no escape- Three years ago, Starfire escaped an Alien race called the Gordanians, to arrive on Earth. They’re back, and ready to put Starfire back where she belongs, behind reinforced Titanium bars. Robin’s not about to let her go…if only he hadn’t got captured first. How does it feel to be the alien, Robin?

*now you know my pain- When the new Villain, Gender Bender, comes to down, the Titans find themselves in an odd situation. They’ve been turned into the opposite gender against their will! Now in order to change back, they must learn to understand the gender they’ve turned into. Rated T for obvious reasons. A great read if you’ve ever wondered why girls or guys do [blank].

*paint it black- Robin disappeared three months ago. Now, Jump City’s crime rate is mysteriously being taken care of by a normal, albeit strange, teenage boy who goes by the name Black. As the Titans befriend this lunatic, they begin to see a relation between him and their missing leader. Will they be able to find Robin, or will Black turn them all insane as himself? Actually, contains NO OC.

*saving grace- “When I’m done with you, you won’t be able to walk upright or speak coherent sentences and all you’ll see is my mask and my voice repeating in your head…Weak. Richard Grayson, I am not tough, I am everything that you fear.” Happy Ending! Smudge of RobStar. NO Slash!

Miraculous Ladybug

tender words- When Marinette finally gets the guts to confess her feelings for Adrien, some things go so wrong, and other things go so right.

tunnels of love- Oneshot- The night started out with an accidental kiss from Adrien Agreste, and ended with her bleeding in the Catacombs of Paris. Ladybug, the wielder of the miraculous of good luck. Yeah right. (Some blood)

the reveal that wasn’t- first parts My ending to kittybug’s Tumblr Prompt

Kingdom Hearts

My Kingdom for a Heart ao3 | ff.net - The curse of being one of the Princesses of heart, is that there’s always someone out to get you. As Xemnas looked failure in the face, he reached out in a last ditch effort and destroyed Kairi’s heart. Now her friends must travel the worlds again. Sora, to find a way to recover Kairi’s heart, and Riku, to make amends to those he has wronged. All the while, the darkness grows.

Beauty and the Beast

behold the beast- A Oneshot alternate ending to the Animated Film

Cinderella

midnight- “When the clock strikes twelve, the spell will be broken,” the fairy godmother had warned. A retelling of the story, when Cinderella doesn’t escape the ball in time. Oneshot

so this is love- What if Jaq and Gus hadn’t made it in time to help Cinderella? A new twist on the ending of the classic Fairytale, and what lies beyond the story. She still gets her happy ending and her Prince, and her step family gets their just deserts.

Sleeping Beauty

a love song back to me- Maleficent saw the loophole that stared her in the face. Prince Phillip would break the curse in time, for sure. After all, he was betrothed to Aurora. So in an effort for her evil plan to stay in action, Maleficent takes care of the young prince herself. Phillip never imagined having to live off the land like the birds above. Alternate twist on the classic Disney tale.

Escaflowne

down feathers- Hitomi’s depressed. She’s been away from Van too long, he comes back to visit her…but what if something went wrong with the transfer? (Not finished. Never will be finished. Mwahaha) Circa 2012

angel’s wounds- Fanelia’s been victorious in their most recent battle with Basrum. Unfortunately, someone is wounded and just seeks solace in his love that lives so far away. Post Anime.

momma look sharp- With the war between Fanelia and Basrum finally coming to a close, the kingdom is celebrating. The young king, however, is suffering from an experience unlike any he had before. Van finally seeks solace in his wife.

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thatonegirrl16 · 6 years

Text

Helloooooo! So I know I haven’t posted any of my writing in forever, but I’ve been working on this piece for a few months now, and I’m very proud of it! If you’d like to read it, you can click the keep reading button thingy and let me know what you think! It’s completely original, not a fanfic or anything, but I wanted to post it anyway lol.

WARNING:

This story gets...well it goes into some deep shit, not gonna lie. If you are sensitive to any of the following, please don’t read it!

This story contains:

Mentions of previous death Depression Anxiety Sexual Harassment Implication of self harm

I know that’s a lot but that’s why I’m telling you upfront. But, I still am proud of it and would like your opinion on it if you don’t mind!

Stars

The stench of nail polish wafts through the air as I gently paint my final nail. I screw the cap back on, careful to not smudge any of my now flawless rosy-pink nails, and study each of them carefully. “Perfect,” I think to myself. I wave my hands around to dry them, and hear my phone buzz behind me. I turn around and lean over the screen, being careful to not smudge my nails. I notice it’s from one of the girls in the group chat I have with my friends, saying they’re waiting for me down in the lobby. I let out a sigh. They all wanted to go to a party tonight, which means that, by default, I’m going too.

I give my nails one last wave, then stand up to check in the mirror. I study my reflection, for once feeling confident about my appearance. I decided to wear my waist-long chocolatey brown hair in loose curls, my personal favorite way to style it. My pink nails match my soft loose shirt perfectly, which is lightly tucked into a pair of high waist denim shorts. I slip in a pair of gold hoop earrings and put on my light brown sandals, the ones with just a little bit of a heal to hide that fact that I’m only 5’4”. I look in the mirror and decide my pink lipstick is too bold, so I change it to a glossy nude. I touch up my winged-eyeliner and mascara, then step back one last time to make sure everything looks in place.

I make eye-contact with my reflection, and pause as I stare into her bright green eyes. On the outside, everything seems perfect, like nothing could get in her way. But her eyes—they tell the real story.

I shut my eyes, not wanting to look at that broken piece of myself anymore. But it’s too late, I realize, as the memories start flooding back to me.

…

I’m in ninth grade again. The pain of the loss of my dad is fresh, clawing at my chest and not letting me go.

My dad. The one person in my life that no one could ever replace. The one I knew I could look up to. He brought me so much joy, so much laughter. He was the one I went to when I needed comfort, the one I went to when I needed to talk. He was always there for me. Then he was diagnosed with stage four lung cancer, and died a month and a half later.

It was like the flame inside of me was smothered, leaving nothing but a dark and cold husk of what I once was.

I can’t even remember a day where I didn’t think of my dad since he died. We had such a great relationship, the type that other people would envy if they saw us together. We would laugh at each other’s jokes and tease each other all the time. And then, he was gone. Just like that. I never had time to process what was happening—the last few weeks went by so fast.

My mom never really recovered either. She took to solitude after he died, which meant I had no one to comfort me when I needed someone most. I was alone—I had no one who cared.

…

A knock on the door to my dorm room snaps me to reality, making me jump. I look back into the mirror and realize a few tears have slipped onto my cheeks.

“Hey Amy! You ready baby girl?” a muffled voice says from the other side of the door.

I brush away the tears and quickly pull myself together best I can so Bryan doesn’t notice anything’s wrong.

“Coming!” I grab my purse and rush over to the door. I open it and see Bryan standing in the hallway, leaning up against the doorframe.

“What took you so long Amy baby?”

I wish he didn’t use such derogative terms when talking to me. I know it’s his way of flirting, but secretly I hate it. But how could I tell him? He’s just trying to show affection, I think.

I try to sound nonchalant in my response.

“Let’s go. We’re gonna be late!”

By the time we get down the three flights of stairs and to the lobby, I’m feeling a little better, the rush of emotions having passed. I see the rest of our friends, Manda, Kris and Sam, who are all talking and laughing as we arrive.

Sam. My absolute best friend in the entire world. Sam is the reason I’m still alive, to be honest. About a month after my dad passed away, I found Sam. They didn’t care that I was broken. Instead, they comforted me in my time of need.

Yes, they. I learned that, at the same time I was struggling with the loss of my dad, Sam was going through their own struggles as well. At the time I met Sam, they had just adopted the term nonbinary to define themselves, deciding that they didn’t want to identify as either a boy or girl. But Sam knew that those around them wouldn’t accept that, so they felt trapped, unable to be the person they wanted to be. To this day, I’m still the only one that knows this.

We found each other at our lowest point, the weight of depression having taken over long ago. We both felt like we could trust the other, the feeling of loneliness fading just a bit knowing that the other was struggling as well. We feel safe around each other—nothing has to be an act when it’s just the two of us, unlike with the rest of the world.

As soon as Sam sees me, they tear away from the group and tackle me in a hug. I let out a yelp and can’t help but laugh a little, hugging them back. Manda walks over to us shaking her head and laughing.

“Okay you two. Let’s head out.”

Everyone except Sam and me hustles towards the door, leaving the two of us to talk privately. We tread behind the rest of the group, and Sam glances over at me.

“You doing okay?” they ask.

I smile up at them. “I’m okay.”

They shake their head in response, and I let out a sigh. They know me too well.

I sigh. “Okay fine. Honestly, I wish we weren’t going. I…I don’t know. ”

Sam looks down at me and pats my back reassuringly.

“I’d don’t wanna go either if we’re both being honest. But maybe it won’t be so bad?”

I look up at them and shrug. “I doubt it, but okay.”

They chuckle, but I can tell that their heart isn’t really in it. It’s true—neither of us want to go. But this the first time in years that Sam and I have been even somewhat accepted into any sort of friend group. We’d hate to ruin it over something as small as a college party.

We get to the car and I hop in the backseat. Kris is driving, with Bryan sitting next to him. Manda is squished in between Sam and me, since she’s the smallest out of all of us. The two guys up front start up a conversation, along with Sam and Manda, so I look out the window and watch all the trees and buildings whiz past us as we drive away.

I glance up at the stars, wishing the city would go dark so I could actually see them all. The stars have always been mesmerizing to me, ever since my dad started teaching me all about them when I was little. I always feel safer when I look up at them, in a way. No matter what’s going on around me, I know that at night the stars are always there, never changing. I can’t help but smile when I see them. The stars are so beautiful, and always hold some of the best memories with my dad.

We pull up to the party and I see it is already in full swing. My smile fades, remembering why I’m out tonight. I take a deep breath and open the car door. I immediately feel the music pumping through my chest even though we’re not even inside yet. Bryan lets out a yell and jogs up to the house. The rest of us head up as well, even though every one of my muscles is telling me not to. I feel a tightness rise up in my chest, and my eyes start stinging. I feel my chest rise and fall, faster and faster and faster. I glance over at Sam. They see me panicking and demonstrate taking a big breath in and out. I gently nod and focus on my breathing. Deep breath in…and out…in…and out.

I feel a little bit calmer by the time we reach the door, which is wide open. The music is now even louder, making my head pound. The lights are dim and someone set up colorful lights throughout the room. I see about fifty college-aged kids just in this one room, blue solo cups in hand filled with their intoxicating substances. A group of girls are sitting in one corner vaping. I make a mental note to avoid that section of the room.

Someone offers me a cup of mysterious brown liquid, but I shake my head and pull a bottle of water out of my purse. Honestly, it’s best if you bring your own drinks to these types of events.

I look around and notice that all my friends except for Bryan have disappeared into the crowd, including Sam. I sigh and walk up to where Bryan has already joined a game of beer pong. I stand beside the table and watch. His opponent is clearly winning, though Bryan doesn’t seem to mind one bit. Every time one of them makes the little ball in a cup, the crowd around them cheers and starts yelling. Bryan chugs a cup of watery beer and yells with them, while I try to make myself smaller and stay out of the way.

Bryan holds the ball, taking aim. He makes eye-contact with me and winks.

“This one’s for you baby girl!”

I cross my arms and give him a playful smirk, even though my heart isn’t fully in it.

He tosses the ball, and it sails right into the cup, causing an eruption of yelps around me. I slink back and try to stay out of the way, when I feel a hand touch the small of my back. I glance back and notice a tall, blond headed guy smiling down at me.

“Hey, might wanna watch out there. You could get hurt.”

He winks at me and slowly slides his hand downward, but I swat it away and quickly rush over to Bryan. I wrap my arms around him, and he puts one arm over my shoulder.

“This guy is going down, Amy, just you wait!”

I quickly glance over at the blond-headed kid, who’s smiling at me. It’s not uncommon for guys to hit on me at these types of events, but this guy gives me chills.

As the night goes on, I try my hardest to stay as close to Bryan as I can. But as time passes, he becomes more and more drunk, and less and less aware of me. After being there for God knows how long, I decide to step outside for a bit. There’s too many people in here, a large majority of them drunk. I walk out of the kitchen, where Bryan is fixing himself yet another drink, and find myself in an empty hallway. The lights are dim, and the music is just a little bit quieter. I find it a little strange that no one is here, but I keep walking, determined to escape the suffocating house. I turn the corner and bump into someone, spilling my second water bottle of the night all over the two of us.

“Sorry,” I mutter and try to step out of the way. But the guy in front of me blocks my path. He grins down at me.

“Oh, my bad,” he sneers. My eyes grow wide, realizing that this is the creep from earlier. Except now, he’s almost as drunk as Bryan. I quickly try to duck around him, not wanting to start any trouble. He grabs my arm, holding me back.

“Let go of me!” I yell. But instead, I feel myself being dragged into a small, dark room and shoved against a wall. The guy grabs both of my tiny wrists with one of his sweaty, meaty hands and pins them above my head. His face grows closer to mine, and I can smell this sickly scent of cheap beer from his breath. I feel him grab my breast, and feel adrenaline pumping through me. I scream and kick him in the shin, sending his drunk self off balance and giving me an opportunity to run. I dash out of the room and slam the door behind me, sprinting back to the kitchen to find Bryan.

“Bryan. I need to leave. Now.”

He snickers. “C’mon baby girl, this party is fucking lit. Don’t ruin the fun.”

I feel a tear slip down my cheek.

“Bryan, please. You don’t understand. I need to go back now!”

He laughs at something his friend says and half-heartedly shoves me away.

“Go find Kris or something.”

Frustrated and hurt, I bolt outside. I see Manda and Kris laughing with a bunch of other people and run over to them.

“Guys, I need to go. Please.”

Manda turns around and looks me up and down.

“What’s wrong?”

Another tear falls down my face. Then another.

“S-some guy g-grabbed me and…and put me against a wall a-and touched me an-”

Manda cuts me off. “Amy c’mon. He was just hitting on you, stop overreacting! It’s a party! Live a little.”

Kris, who must’ve overheard me yelling, joins the conversation. “I mean, you were kinda asking for it. That is a pretty low-cut shirt you’re wearing! Like damn, girl!” Kris starts laughing and Manda joins him, turning their attention away from me.

I start crying even harder, and quickly shield my face and walk towards the car. I didn’t even want to come to this stupid party, and now my friends are acting like complete jerks.

I glance up to the sky in desperation, but all I see are clouds. Not even the stars are there for me this time.

I slump against the car with my knees up to my chest, and sit in silence, watching the chaos of the party from the safety of the car.

How could I let that guy harass me like that? I should’ve said something the first time, should’ve told someone or something! But I was a coward, running to my fucking boyfriend to protect me.

Was Kris right? Was it because of my shirt? I shake my head in an attempt to rid myself of my thoughts and put my head in my heads.

Why do I even hang out with those guys anyway? Manda, Kris, even Bryan. I can’t be myself around them, can’t go to them when I’m hurting. I just wanted to fit in somewhere. I’ve gone so long having to deal with being the outcast, with being the one that no one wants to hang around, except for Sam. Manda, Bryan, Kris…they’ll never truly accept us, not for who we really are. They just seem like they have everything all together, unlike Sam and me. We’re broken, they’re not.

But I don’t know what else to do.

I feel the tears start to flow again. Why is my life such a mess? What did I do to deserve this? I want nothing more in life for this… this pain to go away. But for the past six years, it’s managed to find me again and again. I can’t escape.

I feel my fingernails dig into my calves. It hurts, but I can’t stop. The tears flow harder and harder. I can’t stop them. My chest is rising and falling quickly, and I can’t catch my breath. My hands slip off my legs, and I wrap my arms around myself. I cry out in a whisper the only person I can think of who could help me.

Dad.

Why did he have to leave? Why did he have to die? He was my lifeline, the only one who could ground me in times like this. I have Sam now, but Sam will never replace Dad.

I miss him. I miss him so much. I feel the sobs continue to wrack my body, painful sobs. I want nothing more than the pain in my life to stop.

I don’t know how long I sit there crying. But I finally manage to calm down enough to breathe. I close my eyes and focus on calming down.

Breathe in.

And.

Out…

I open my eyes and stand up. It’s like I’m on autopilot—unsure of where I’m going. I start walking back towards the house, not sure of what I’m doing.

I notice Sam standing at the foot of the driveway, and I immediately turn and start walking towards them.

“Amy?”

“Hey Sam.”

I walk up next to them and plaster a fake smile on my face, just wanting to forget everything happened.

“What’s up? Why aren’t you inside?” I ask, trying to keep the conversation casual.

“I just needed some air, plus I just wasn’t having a great time,” they say.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. The guys in there kept calling me ‘man’ and ‘dude’. Which like, I get it. They don’t know about, well my identity I guess. I can’t expect them to know better. But it still makes me uncomfortable every time. Brings me down, you know?”

I nod, trying my best to hide my true feelings. But Sam knows me better.

“Amy, what’s wrong?”

Immediately I break down in tears, unable to hold them back any longer. The words flow out of me, almost without permission, as I begin to tell Sam everything that went down that night. They reach over and embrace me, and I sob into their shoulder, grateful for the comfort. I let go after several minutes and wipe my nose with the collar of my shirt.

Sam looks at me with a worried and caring expression.

“Amy, do you want me to call someone? The cops, your mom, anyone?”

My eyes widen.

“Please, Sam. Don’t call anyone. I-I don’t know if I could handle it. It’s my fault anyway. I should’ve said something when it happened. I-”

Sam grabs my shoulders.

“Amy. You are not allowed to blame yourself for this, okay? That guy is an ass who should not have done that. I think we should tell someone.”

I shake my head.

“No…please, Sam. I can’t. I can’t deal with that.”

Sam looks at me for a few moments, then lets out a sigh.

“Okay. But please, Amy this isn’t your fault. Whatsoever.”

We sit in silence for a moment. Sam reaches over and gives me another hug, and I hug them back. I manage to stop crying, and I take a deep breath and close my eyes, feeling the warmth of my best friend embrace me.

After several minutes, Sam pulls away and looks at me.

They break the silence. “People are cruel.”

I nod. “People are cruel.”

I let a small smile escape my lips.

“Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For being you. And being there for me.”

…

We hop into our Uber and start heading back home. I’m glad Sam suggested that we go ahead and call one, since neither of us wanted to be there anyway.

I speak up. “Remind me why we both went to that party again?”

“Cause we’re stupid.”

“True. But really. Why do we do these things that we don’t want to?”

They think for a second. “To impress the others? To show them that we’re just like them? I dunno.”

I lean back against the seat. They’re not far off actually, now that I really think about it. We want to be like them, like the unbroken.

But in reality, they’re broken too, in their own way. We all are. Everyone is broken; everyone has a story that has made them into who they are, and not all of it has been easy. Some just seem to hide their broken parts better than others.

I look out the window of the car, seeing the trees and buildings fly past us once again. I glance up at the sky and feel a smile creep across my face. The clouds are gone, and the stars are out once again.

#my writings #stars #death #self harm #depression #anxiety #sexualharassment

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daughterof-chaos · 7 years

Text

Chasing Fire

Author’s Note: Hello loveys and welcome to the first imagine for Music Monday #3! This is a Juice Ortiz imagine based on Just Like Fire by P!nk as requested by the lovely @thejulietfarciertlove. I hope you all enjoy! Let me know. This one kind of got away from me, length wise, what can I say, Juicy Boy was speaking to me. This imagine is rated T+ for language. (also, what I wrote about hacking in this, I don’t know if it’s right. I used my very minimal knowledge gained from watching different shows, so if I’m wrong, sorry ahead of time)

This is my work–originally posted to my old blog @callmemrskozik which is no longer in use. Just wanted to put it out there so people don’t fill up my inbox accusing me of plagiarism.

Chasing Fire

-XX-

I know that I’m running out of time I want it all, mmm, mmm And I’m wishing they’d stop tryna turn me off I want it on, mmm, mmm And I’m walking on a wire, trying to go higher Feels like I’m surrounded by clowns and liars Even when I give it all away I want it all, mmm, mmm We came here to run it, run it, run it We came here to run it, run it, run it Just like fire, burning up the way If I can light the world up for just one day Watch this madness, colorful charade No one can be just like me any way Just like magic, I’ll be flying free I'mma disappear when they come for me I kick that ceiling, what you gonna say? No one can be just like me any way Just like fire, uh

-XX-

She knew it was stupid of her. She was constantly on the move; so why she had even turned on the laptop in the first place, she couldn’t understand. Something told her to she supposed. The same something that led her to her old virtual stomping grounds, led her to Juan. And after four months of literally zero contact with anyone, it was nice to talk to someone.

She smiles just thinking about him. That was six months ago, and even still she couldn’t begin to tell you what he looks like, but somehow she knows him, inside and out; the same way he knows her. Which makes the situation she’s found herself in that much harder. She got too comfortable, and in that comfort came complacence, and complacence always led to mistakes, and she made one. A big one.

“You don’t have much time Julie, what’s it going to be?” the voice sounds bored and lifting her head she studies the man before her. He’s dressed in a carefully tailored suit, and he lifts a hand to study his perfectly manicured nails. The sight of him makes her sick.

She’s tasted more freedom in the last ten months of zig zagging the country then she did in the entirety of her life and she isn’t ready to give it up.

“I’m not going back with you Evan,” Julie states trying to sound strong, but her voice shakes, and when he smacks her she doesn’t let out a noise. She just straightens her shoulders and smiles. Nothing has changed with him. She should have known.

“What are you going to do Julie? Whore yourself out to some piece of trash biker? Maybe you were hoping they’d pass you around…” Evan’s voice is cold despite the anger that rages in his eyes. Julie’s eyes widen in disbelief. How did he know about Juan? “That’s right Julie, I know all about him.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Julie offers weakly, as she settles back onto the edge of the bed.

“You never could lie…”

His eyes flick to the clock, and licking his lips he feels the nervousness building inside of him. For the past six months at exactly the same time she’s popped up on his messenger, and they talked, their conversations covering anything and everything. She was the first person he felt he could be the most authentic version of himself with.

He can be just Juan, and for her, that’s enough.

His laptop pings, pulling him from his thoughts and he can’t help the smile that crosses his face when he sees her name flashing on the screen.

‘Juice…’ he stares at the screen in confusion. Julie never calls him Juice. Ever.

‘What’s wrong?’ he types back and while he waits for a response he chews nervously at his thumb.

‘Found me. Time up. Game over.’ He reads and re-reads the words, trying to understand, and before he can ask her what the hell is going she signs off.

“Son of a bitch!” the words rip through him and pushing away from the counter he starts to pace. He has to find her but he doesn’t even know where to begin.

-XX-

And people like to laugh at you ‘cause they are all the same, mmm, mmm See I would rather we just go a different way than play the game mm, mm And no matter the weather, we can do it better You and me together, forever and ever We don’t have to worry 'bout a thing, 'bout a thing We came here to run it, run it, run it We came here to run it, run it, run it Just like fire, burning up the way If I can light the world up for just one day Watch this madness, colorful charade No one can be just like me any way Just like magic, I’ll be flying free I'mma disappear when they come for me I kick that ceiling, what you gonna say? No one can be just like me any way Just like fire, fire, fire Run it, run it, run it We came here to run it, run it, run it

-XX-

“You caused a lot of trouble Julie,” Evan’s voice is calm as he leads her by the elbow to the waiting BMW. Everything inside of her builds with dread. She doesn’t want to go back. She can’t. She’ll die if she does; maybe not physically but her spirit would surely succumb to the pressures of the life she was expected to live. “Hopefully this little, stunt, was more than enough to prove that you can’t make it on your own.”

“I’ve been making it on my own for ten months Evan. Ten months,” Julie says trying to pull her arm from his grasp but he just tightens his hold, and she knows the anger he’s capable of. She’s counting on it. “What pisses you off more? That I don’t need you the way you wanted me to believe I did, or that I don’t want you?”

His jaw clenches tight and bracing herself she’s ready for the blow, but nothing comes of it. Instead he pulls open the back door and shoves her inside.

“You’re going to learn your place,” he says getting in the driver’s seat. “This time, you won’t ever forget it.”

“So let me get this straight,” Chibs’ words are slow his voice calm, “the last six months you’ve been talking to someone online, and you’re convinced, because she called you Juice, that something is wrong.”

“Something’s wrong because she told me so,” Juice says through clenched teeth. He’s spent the last couple of hours trying to get him to understand the seriousness of what’s going on, but they can’t seem to get past the whole “online” thing.

“Sounds to me like a bored housewife whose husband found out what wifey’s been doing while he was away,” Chibs says on a laugh, and shaking his head Juice snaps his laptop shut.

“Forget it,” he says, and as he moves to get up Chibs lays a hand on his arm. The older man’s eyes search his face and letting out a breath he shakes his head.

“You’re serious about this girl?” Chibs asks and Juice nods. “Start at the beginning. Don’t leave anything out.”

“And you’re sure she isn’t married?” Chibs asks blowing out a steady stream of smoke.

“I’m sure. She’s engaged. Or she was. Until ten months ago,” Juice says rubbing a hand over his head. It feels weird letting someone into his and Julie’s world. “Old money, that’s really all that she said about the guy. She wouldn’t give me his name, said the last thing she wanted was to read that he had disappeared under mysterious circumstances.”

“You think he tracked her down?” Chibs asks and with a sigh Juice shrugs.

“If he did it’s because he paid someone too. That’s what his type does.”

“So, why don’t you work your computer magic and track her down?”

“You think I haven’t tried that already? Julie’s smart, and she’s damn good. She used dummy I.P addresses, never stayed connected to one for too long, made sure to constantly jump them, she was all over the map. I can’t pinpoint her,” he says and he can’t help the tone of pride that rings in his voice.

“So what can we do?” Chibs asks putting out his cigarette.

“Nothing we can do but wait.”

-XX-

So look I came here to run it Just 'cause nobody’s done it Y'all don’t think I can run it But look, I’ve been here, I’ve done it Impossible? Please Watch I do it with ease You just gotta believe Come on, come on with me Oh, what’s a girl to do? (What, what?) Hey, what’s a girl to do? (What, what?) Oh, what’s a girl to do? (What, what?) Oh, what’s a girl to do? Just like fire, burning up the way If I can light the world up for just one day Watch this madness, colorful charade No one can be just like me any way

-XX-

She’s exhausted, down to the bone. She couldn’t begin to say how long she’s been walking, but she keeps moving. One foot in front of the other. She had to do it. She had no choice. That’s what she’s been telling herself since she walked away from the smoldering car. She couldn’t leave Evan in the smoking wreckage; no matter how much she hated him, she wouldn’t have his death on her hands, so she pulled him free making sure there was a safe distance between him and what was left of his BMW. Sure she may have caused the accident but for her it was the only way that she felt she was going to be able to get away.

She used Evan’s phone to call 911, and to send one message, and she hoped to hell that he understood.

His phone buzzes across the nightstand, and with a groan he throws his hand out, searching for it, and when he finally finds it he lifts it trying to read the words through sleep blurred eyes. He doesn’t recognize the number so his first instinct is to ignore it.

‘Where there’s smoke…’ his eyes are sliding closed with the words tumbling in his head and then he’s sitting upright, all of his muscles tensing as the meaning behind the words sink in. He jumps from his bed and fumbles as he drags on his jeans, and with only one arm through his shirt he’s racing down the hall to bang on Chibs’ door.

“Chibs, we have to go! I know where Julie is!” he calls frantically through the door and without waiting for a response he’s dashing down the hall, and as he turns the corner her runs face first into Opie who laughs.

“Slow down Juicy boy, where’s the fire?” Opie asks with a grin.

“I don’t know,” Juice answers honestly as he runs, “but I’m going to find it.”

He stands, hands at his waist as he studies the twisted wreck of metal. The fire department had the fire out relatively quickly, but there were more questions than answers, and absolutely no sign of Julie. Every clue that would have been left in the car was gone, destroyed by the lick of hot flames, and according to the tow man, the guy the car belongs to was found lying unconscious on the side of the road, but he hadn’t been thrown from the impact. No, he was pulled free.

“Julie,” her name is a whisper as he fights the smile; where he would be all too happy to let the man suffer, Julie would save the sorry son of a bitch.

“There was no girl found at the scene brother,” Chibs says and with a grin Juice snaps his helmet back into place.

“That’s because she’s on the move again. She wouldn’t stay, even if she’s hurt. If she has the chance to get away she’s going to take it, no matter what,” he says and climbing on his bike he brings it to life with a roar.

He parks his bike in front of another diner, and letting out a sigh, he’s ready to give up. He’s searched for a couple of hours now, scoping out diners and rest stops, watching for any sign of Julie, but there’s nothing.

He tells himself that this is the last place he’s going to look. He can’t chase fire forever.

-XX-

Just like fire, burning up the way If I can light the world up for just one day Watch this madness, colorful charade No one can be just like me any way Just like fire, burning up the way If I can light the world up for just one day Watch this madness, colorful charade No one can be just like me any way Just like magic, I’ll be flying free I'mma disappear when they come for me I kick that ceiling, what you gonna say? No one can be just like me any way Just like fire, fire Run it, run it, run it Just like fire Run it, run it, run it

-XX-

She swirls the straw in the glass in front of her, fighting to stay awake. She’s dozed on and off, grateful when the waitress gave a knowing smile upon seeing her and led her to the booth in the darkened corner.

“Hey sugar, are you sure you don’t want anything to eat?” the waitress asks on her next round and though her stomach rumbles loudly she knows she can’t pay for anything.

“I’m fine,” Julie says with a soft smile, before taking a sip from her water, “more water would be great.”

“Alright,” she says her attention turning to the door as the bell overhead gives a cheerful ring, “well isn’t he just a cutie…”

Julie tilts her head to follow the woman’s gaze and when her eyes land on the man, her heart skips a beat.

“Oh my God…” she whispers, and then she’s sinking down in her seat. She never imagined he’d find her. She hoped sure, dreamed of the moment they’d see each other, face to face, she however didn’t think that when that moment came that her face would be streaked with dirt and blood, clothes torn and tattered. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

“You okay sweetheart?” the waitress asks and with a nod Julie starts to slide from the booth.

“Yeah, fine, listen I need the bathroom…” she tries to call as little attention to herself as possible as she moves towards the bathroom.

“Julie?” the voice comes from behind her, freezing her footsteps, and letting out a steady breath she turns. Her heart hammers in her chest as she looks at him. He’s in baggy jeans and a black zip up hoodie that lays open over a black t shirt. To say he’s cute is an understatement that has her internally cursing the fact that she looks like a mess.

“Juan,” his name comes out on a rush of air as he wraps her in a tight hug, and after freezing for a few seconds her hands curl into the back of his shirt.

“I found you,” he whispers against her lips as his hands cup her face.

“I knew you would,” she says sliding into the kiss, and with a smile she’s finally done running.

#Sons of Anarchy #SOA #Samperv #Juice Ortiz #fanfiction #fanfic

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quills-and-spills-blog · 7 years

Text

A Good Environment

For this I used the prompt: “Write a piece about a school club” from @dropkickwritersblock (find the prompt here: x ). Thanks for the inspiration!

Warning: this text discusses anxiety, implied animal attacks, scarring, panic attacks, and descriptions of pain. It is, however, a happy story on the whole. Stay safe kids!

The character of Vi belongs to @evanescencerps and the character of Adam belongs to @artsy-mcbang. If you like Gus, he’ll definitely be back in future writing pieces!

Enjoy!

“And what exactly would this club being doing?”

Gus looked up at Miss Fenwyck, eyes wide and nervous as ever.

“Um, v-volunteering at the, um, animal shelter, M-Miss. And m-maybe, uh, f-fundraisers? To h-help the sh-shelters g-get b-by…”

His English teacher’s neutral expression drew into a small frown. Gus grabbed the hem of his shirt and fiddled with it nervously. His already considerable anxiety level soared with every silent second she spent studying the application he’d handed her. She cleared her throat.

“Gus,” she began, rolling the word slowly as if she was using the time to carefully plan out how best to to break bad news to her already unstable student, “I appreciate your desire to help our furry friends, especially after...”

She paused for a brief second as she studied his face, giving him a sympathetic smile. It ended up being more of an awkward grimace. Gus returned it with a nervous smile, wincing a little as the still-tender marks on his face puckered uncomfortably. Miss Fenwyck continued carefully.

“...However, this application does not have much to do with the school itself. It’s also incredibly specific, which is a club feature that tends to work against its formation.” She bit her lip. “Do you have any interested students?” She looked back to the application. “Or a representative teacher?”

Gus shrank into himself a little. “Um...n-no,” he said quietly, “I...th-this was...um, I was hoping...m-maybe with a c-club...um...”

Miss Fenwyck stopped him with a sad smile. Though the expression stung a little, Gus appreciated not having to admit his lonely state out loud. “I see,” Miss Fenwyck sighed, “And I sympathize, Gus. But you need at least three more members and a teacher overseeing your activities before I can authorize a club. Perhaps you can join one that’s already been formed?”

Gus’s large front teeth chewed at his lip nervously. He felt his chest tighten and his vision swim a little with his growing anxiety. “I um...I w-waited a l-little l-late to j-join any, um, clubs, so...m-most p-people have k-kind of s-settled in? With f-friends and s-stuff? And I d-don’t w-want to interru-”

Gus jumped as the door to the classroom swing open suddenly. It hadn’t slammed into the wall, but the whooshing assaulted Gus’s senses strangely. He spun, ducking a little as he did so out of reflex. He’d been on high alert the past couple of days, but hadn’t thought much of it. He’d just chalked it up to his accident paired with the all the psyching up he’d been doing to hand in this application.

A shaggy head poked into the room, lighting up with a grin as the man who owned it strode in with long, lanky strides. He adjusted the large overfilled binder in his arms before looking down at his colleague. “Ah! Miss Fenwyck! Crushing another grand club pipe dream, it seems?” Miss Fenwyck’s face pinched into something between a pout and a scolding glare, but the man just waved a big hairy hand good-naturedly. “You know I’m just kidding.” He looked down at Gus with an easy smile, his grey eyes soft and reassuring. “Right?”

Gus felt himself smiling back automatically. A piece of Gus’s brain tried to puzzle out why his panic begin to ebb away the more the man remained in his presence. His mounting anxiety could never be completely erased, but the level it was at now was an all-time low in a matter of seconds. He decided not to question a good thing, choosing to shake off the feeling in favour of a reply. “Ha, um, yes Mr. Gilani.” The biology teacher just chuckled in response.

“I did come to do a little brainstorming about a student we’re both having trouble with, Olivia, but two birds and one stone and all that.”

He studied Gus’s face, his nose twitching slightly. Gus caught a strangely musky scent in the room as well, like wet earth. He wondered what it was. “Well, if this boy can’t found a club, let a club find him!” Patting the cover of the binder he held as if to affirm his statement, Mr. Gilani pulled a piece of paper out of the back pocket and handed it gently to Gus.

“If you don’t mind tramping around in the outdoors, the environmental club would be more than happy to have you!”

Gus blinked at the club member application in his hands and then up at Mr. Gilani.

“I, but...but isn’t everyone already...together? Like, with friend groups and stuff...”

The biology teacher brushed his worries away with another sweep of his big hand.

“Don’t be worried about making friends! We’re a small and tight-knit group for sure, but I guarantee you’ll fit right in and be part of the gang in no time.”

Gus stared at the application skeptically, but felt a surging tug of heart-tearing hope in his chest at the thought of finally finding friends. Mr Gilani took his silence as hesitation.

“If it’s any help in your decision, we have a sleep away trip planned for next week with all expenses paid thanks to our super successful bake sale the other week. Nothing like a good campfire-and-cabin situation to spark friendships!”

Slowly Gus nodded, the movement becoming more enthusiastic the longer it continued.

“Yeah...um, yes, I mean, I’d love to. Do, Um, d-do you have a pen?”

He scribbled down his information while the teachers talked shop and waited politely for them to finish speaking to hand in his application. Returning the completed sheet to his binder, Mr. Gilani rewarded him with a thumbs up and a grin. “Good to have you kiddo!” he said enthusiastically as he followed Gus out of the classroom. He snapped his fingers suddenly.

“Oh, Gus! I don’t mean to pry, but how long ago was your...”

He pointed gingerly to his own face before continuing.

“I just want to make sure it’s healed enough to be running around in the dirt, you know?”

Gus touched the scars on his face.

“Oh, um...it’ll be a m-month by the c-cabin t-trip? Is th-that okay?”

A strange look crossed the biology teacher’s face; not unfriendly, but something between concern and sympathy.

“Of course! But Gus? Do come to the trip, please. It’s important you come. For your sake. Promise me?”

Gus looked at the taller man, puzzled, but nodded after only a brief hesitation. Mr. Gilani’s returning smile seemed tinged with relief.

“Good man. Well, see you in class!”

With a wave he turned back the way he’d come and disappeared down the hall, leaving Gus to mull over the conversation on his walk home.

Gus’s nerves were as frayed as his backpack straps, his fingers picking at the fabric. He stood alone in the school parking lot, the first to arrive for the club trip. Not even the bus had pulled in yet. Gus eyed the sky as the light bled out into evening. He would have come at a more reasonable time - his brother Theo kept trying to convince him to arrive at least a couple minutes late - but even a month later he was hesitant to walk anywhere in the dark. He rocked from his heels to his toes and back again, channelling his nervous energy into kinetic energy. He was focusing so much on this simple task that he almost didn’t realize another person had shown up until he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Already in motion he sprang a into the air, projecting himself away from the mysterious figure. He almost turned his ankle on the landing. Surprised laughter tickled the air, and he felt his face heating up.

A girl he’d seen in his math class studied him with raised eyebrows and a small smile. With her straight black bangs pulled back it took him a few extra seconds to recognize her. She normally hid behind her hair in math class as if it were a protective curtain from the numbers and formulas.

“Um. H-Hi,” Gus said sheepishly. The girl snorted.

“Hi. Don’t be nervous. I won’t bite.”

She laughed again quietly at her joke. Gus looked at the ground. Biting was a bit of a sensitive subject for him at the moment. He looked back up to see her smile falter a bit, her eyes looking away awkwardly, her hands coming up to worry a lock of her hair. Oh no.

“Uhhh, I’m G-Gus!” he said a bit too loudly. They both cringed. He tried again, more softly. “S-Sorry. But y-yeah, um. Gus. Th-that’s m-me.” He gave her a half wince, half smile, his brain running through a list of insults aimed at himself. The awkward burst of introduction had brought her little smile back, though.

“Vi,” she said simply, then frowned in thought. “...Math class?” she said finally, tilting her head a bit to the side.

Gus felt like he was falling down an elevator shaft while his heart exploded simultaneously.

“I! Um! Yes!”

He didn’t mean to sound so excited, but he couldn’t help the goofy grin that spread across his face and the happy little bounce he gave at being remembered. He watched as the expression was echoed in Vi’s face, her eyes glinting mischievously as though his excitement was catching.

“Man, you know math can actually be really interesting, but a goldfish could teach it better than Mr. Harbour. It’d be less dry, at least.”

She grinned wider at the pun. Gus felt an honest reply almost spill out of his mouth

”Maybe the material, but I’d rather find a teacher that could...express his thoughts a little less wetly. My desk is kind of in the splash zone.”

Vi’s laughter was sharp and loud. Though it hurt Gus’s ears a little, it was well worth it. His nervousness was being converted into a euphoric frenzied excitement that was somehow helping him speak candidly, as he would with his brothers. It was as if the connection of math class had erased the usual awkward social barrier. Or maybe there had never been one there in the first place. He’d forgotten how good making friends felt.

The bus pulled in as they traded banter back and forth. Mr. Gilani strode out to greet it with his own duffle bag and a clipboard, sporting a more casual, campy outfit of a simple blue t-shirt and brown cargo shorts. The biology teacher waved them onto the bus as he checked their names off on his clipboard. As Gus passed on his way up the bus steps, Mr. Gilani caught his eye. Raising his own eyebrows Mr.Gilani smiled, as if to say a gentle, “I told you so”. Gus was so engrossed in the first long conversation with a stranger he’d had in awhile that he almost didn’t notice the long gnarled scars wrapping around Mr. Gilani’s knee.

Four more students piled onto the bus after them, and each was just as easy to talk to as the last. Gus was starry-eyed, feeling drunk with happiness. His conversations with them seemed almost second-nature, as if Gus had been friends with them for years and was just catching up. They shared snacks and played card and road trip games as the bus lumbered along the highway towards the camp.

Nightfall brought a more tense atmosphere. Gus first assumed it was sleepiness settling into the bus, but agitated looks and rubbing of exposed skin made him realize everyone was experiencing the same strange itchy feeling as himself. He saw Mr. Gilani look around at the students. Concern painted his face, but not worry. Gus decided it was best to try to ignore it.

Arrival at camp saw the kids splitting quickly into their cabins. It was near midnight by the time they’d reached the camp, and the gentle rocking of the bus had left the club members sleepy. Though they tried valiantly to have the late-night discussions camp is famous for, most fell asleep within fifteen minutes of lying down. It took four times that for Gus to finally drift off. Left in the awe of being someplace so remote but so comforting all at once, he scratched at the the strange itch growing in strength as the night stretched on.

Gus had never been to camp before. His family couldn’t afford it, and his mother had always been at home when he was a child. Though the dark woods gave him a constant dull buzz of fear, the activities were enough to keep him relatively distracted. The camp staff sent them off on everything from plant identification hikes to kayaking on the lake to capture the flag. Gus was a fairly small, slight boy. He’d never been particularly physically active, but he had some happy memories hiking through the forest with his dad and brothers. Going into the first few activities he was afraid he’d make a fool of himself, but he was pleasantly surprised. For what a team member lacked in one skill, the others found skills to more than make up for them. No one was left out. Gus supposed there was a benefit for such a small group of people to be friends. It was much easier to keep track of everyone’s well being, and that made it even easier for them to find success individually and as a whole.

Gus’s self esteem had never been great, and had only fallen as he failed to make friends. He had a hard time finding anything about himself that he liked, let alone any discernable skills. So when his capture the flag team pointed out that his smaller body could move quieter and hide easier than his larger counterparts’, Gus felt something shift in his chest. It felt lighter, somehow. As a particularly hulking, athletic boy named Adam bolted around and drew the attention of the opposing team, Gus snuck into the enemy territory and stole away with their flag to win the game. The grin he had plastered on his face when his team greeted him with hoops and hollers and hugs was so intense he felt like it might break his face in two. Even the intense and moody Adam offered him a little smile and a clap on the back that almost sent him flying face first into the dirt. So when the mood changed to one of anxious apprehension as shadows stretched across the camp Gus’s anxiety remained two-fold, and along with it the strange itch.

Gus stuck close to Vi and Adam as they made their way to the mess hall in the gathering dark. He felt a small sense of relief that the huge older boy had been paired as his cabin safety buddy. Even though Adam’s occasional angry outbursts reminded him of his terrifying stepfather, something about the quiet demeanor and the surprisingly gentle and instinctual way he would place himself between the forest and Gus made him a surprisingly comforting force. It was almost as if he was reading Gus’s fears straight from his mind.

Gus wanted to ask about what was happening, why everyone seemed so apprehensive as if they were sensing some sort of natural disaster, but he’d just become friends with them. He was waiting for the moment when he screwed something up as per usual. He wasn’t about to fast forward the situation by dragging uncomfortable thoughts out of everyone. Instead, he focused on keeping his small legs at enough of a trot to keep up with Adam.

As they reached the mess hall the tense silence increased tenfold. It felt almost solidified in the air.

Gus took a seat in between Adam and Vi, the person sandwich making him feel a little more comforted. He scratched his arm idly. Conversation at the table was already weak at best. When the food came it was enjoyed in silence. Gus frowned a little as the flavour of his food burst strangely in his mouth. There was a spice - or maybe a mixture of spices? - in here he didn’t recognize. The sour flavour was a weird choice for spaghetti. Thinking it was a safe enough topic, he nudged Adam softly and mentioned the strange taste with a nervous smile. Adam just blinked at him slowly, cool face not betraying any expression. He finally replied with a grunt and a gruff, “just remember to finish eating all of it,” before rising to take his own empty plate to the kitchens. Though Vi offered a few awkward but nice attempts at conversation, Gus stayed relatively quiet the rest of the meal.

A half hour before sunset, Mr. Gilani gathered everyone in the mess hall. On the table were glasses and a couple pitchers of water, as well as some small pill bottles. Gus eyed them warily, but everyone around him seemed to look a little more relieved at the sight. As they milled about, Mr.Gilani signaled them all to line up in front of the water table. His panic level steadily rising, Gus considered what this all could mean. Scenarios blurred through his head at top speed.

Was there something in the woods?

Was it coming to hurt them, and those pills were in case of injury?

Or had he jumped into some weird cult situation?

He felt his breath coming faster and faster, the itch under his skin getting worse by the second. He felt his chest constrict and his knees buckle. Adam was close enough to catch him before he hit the floor, but the closeness made the attack worse, confining, constricting. He curled in on himself, shaking uncontrollably as his vision tunnelled. Mr Gilani was suddenly beside him. The biology teacher’s voice was telling him to breathe, giving him cues to do so in a measured way. He sounded so far away. Slowly the feeling subsided, and Gus felt the usual extreme fatigue set in. Mr. Gilani helped him up and over to a pop-up cot in the corner of the mess hall, and Gus fell onto it. The biology professor disappeared from Gus’s vision for a second before returning with a glass of water and a couple of the pills. “Painkillers,” he explained, but Gus was already pushing them away, his panic returning. “No, Gus, You’re going to want them, just - ” Gus was so frantic to escape them that he knocked the pills out of Mr. Gilani’s hand, the hard capsules skittering off across the tile floor. Mr. Gilani sighed.

“Okay, okay! I’m sorry. I didn’t want to scare you. You don’t have to if you really don’t want to.”

Gus felt relief wash over him, his eyes drooping closed.

“I just want you to be as comfortable as possible,” Mr. Gilani continued, “We should have probably been more forthcoming about why we’re all here - ”

Gus heard him get cut off by an incredulous Vi questioning the reasons to keep quiet. As much as he wanted to stay awake, sleep took Gus under.

He woke up to his whole body itching furiously. He groaned, scratching his leg as he came to. As his sleep-blurred mind took a grip on reality, he heard strange sounds from all around him. Something wasn’t quite right. He blinked his eyes open.

The mess hall was dark, but his night vision slowly came into focus. People-like forms littered the hall. Some stood, but hunched a little as if they’d been sucker punched. Some were on the floor, writhing and jerking. All of them were making a strange groaning sound, punctuated with cracks and yelps of pain. Was something in here with them? Was something hunting them?

Gus struggled to sit up quickly, giving a quick yell in pain himself. He became aware of a dull, a body-wide cramping ache throughout his entire person. It built steadily, along with that damned incredible itch. He scratched at his leg more furiously. He realized it felt a lot hairier than he remembered before the pain reached a boiling point, leaving him in the screaming wake of his own crackling bones.

As suddenly as it started, the pain subsided. Gus raised his head blearily and looked around the mess hall, breathing hard and achy joints creaking. It took a few minutes for the shapes to focus; his eyes had teared up during his episode. It took a couple of seconds for his brain to make sense of what slowly came into view.

The hall was filled with glinting eyes, fur, and sharp fangs.

Gus screamed, memories rushing back as he tried to scramble backwards. A chorus of voices exploded around him.

Someone who sounded like Vi shouted, “Hey wait!”

A gruff voice that seemed like Adam said “Whoa man.”

A Mr. Gilani voice was calling gently, “Gus, stay calm”.

His body felt strange, like someone had popped his legs off and put them on backwards. In his confusion he slipped and slammed into the floor, bringing his hands up to shield his head as he hit the ground. He rushed to get up and caught sight of his hands. He froze.

They were covered in brown hair, and his fingers were more claw than anything.

He felt panic rising, but a strange sense of calm settled over him as a large wolf with scars across its back knee trotted over and nudged him with his nose. “It’s okay,” the wolf spoke in Mr.Gilani’s voice. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I wanted you to enjoy your time here without worrying about the change. It’s the last time you were going to be able to.”

A huge tawny wolf snuffled and added gruffly in Adam’s voice, “You’re like, super nervous man. You would have gone bonkers if we told you.”

A chorus of sorries followed the admission. Gus blinked at all of them. A smaller black wolf trotted over and nudged him. If the voice didn’t give away that it was Vi, the mischief in the eyes definitely did. “But, hard part’s over. Now the real fun starts.” With a few whoops and hollers, the small group of wolves raced towards the mess hall doors and slammed into them, knocking them open easily and taking off into the night.

Gus sprang to his four feet, his nervousness forgotten in his scramble not to be left behind. He ran after the frenzied pack on clumsy legs, his newfound paws tripping him up as he tried to figure out the right rhythm in which to move them properly. Gus felt his common sense click back into place as the group barrelled into the woods. His panic rose as he slid to a sprawling halt at the treeline. Now alone at the edge of the forest he stood, shaking, trying to piece together all these broken pieces of what he knew about himself and the world. Whimpers escaped his mouth, further alienating his mind from his body. Something stirred in the forest ahead of him and his heart leapt into his throat. However the sight of the three loping wolves that would have sent him to a panic state earlier that day calmed him slightly instead. The small black wolf moved to stand at Gus’s right side while the towering tawny took the left. Both stood protectively close, their calm reassurance unchanged with their altered forms. The scarred-kneed wolf dipped his head at Gus gently.

“Don’t be scared. The bit of wolfsbane in your dinner tonight will let you keep your wits about you, and the whole pack is here to take care of you. We can’t stop what happened to you,” he pointed his snout at Gus’s face, “But we can be your support system.”

He let his tongue loll out in a goofy manner.

“And friends of course, if you’ll have us! We’re protective of our own. Besides, I know a few who have already grown quite attached.”

Gus felt the two bodies on either side of him press close. His chest warmed with the contact, the fear loosening its constrictive grip on his insides. This was all still so new to him, so frightening and confusing and daunting for what it meant for his life from here on out. But for once, he didn’t have to figure it out alone.

He stared into the dark trees, the snatch of wilderness echoing all the dark places that had given him so much anxiety in the past month. He stood on calm legs and nodded. “It’s weird, but...it a sort of strange, backwards way this is everything I ever wanted.” He let his tongue hang from his mouth in a silly smile, mimicking the expressions around him at his admission. Mr. Gilani dropped down into a play stance before jumping up, letting out a bellowing, joyful howl, and darting back into the forest. Vi and Adam moved after him, taking up the call. Gus felt himself move with them, hurtling with unbridled excitement into the very thing that would have before sparked a panic attack. As the swell of wolf song rose around him he threw back his head and added to it eagerly, his notes finding a place in the woodsy symphony.

#tw: anxiety #tw: panic attack #tw: animal attack #tw: pain #gus #prompts #writing #c: vi #c: adam #mywork #mywriting #tw: scars

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vixenofthemist · 7 years

Text

MAGIC COMES WITH A PRICE, Chapter 2

Rating: T

Fandom: Hetalia

Words: 2,576

Pairings: main- RomBela, Dennor with Nyo!Norway, FruUk with Nyo!France, IceSey

Side pairs- PruHun, RusAme with Nyo Russia, Bulgaria x ???? (It’s a surprise :P), PortMano.

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Arthur wasn’t home. Of course he wasn’t, he was a Tri Leader, they should have expected him to not be at his second home during a weekday. Tri Leaders oversaw the towns and villages in their designated area and all the leaders reported back to one of them. Arthur definitely didn’t have the time to be here during the day, maybe not even the night. Vladimir showed them to a small sitting room where he invited them to get comfortable and read any book on the shelf while he sent a message to Arthur to let him know they were at his house. Natalia didn’t know how he was going to do that exactly, but he came back from the kitchen before Natalia could decide whether to follow him and make sure he wasn’t doing anything suspicious.

Vladimir strode through the doorway and stretched.

“All right, Arthur knows we are here so he should open up time for us. In the meanwhile, let’s go over what we know.”

Vladimir settled himself onto a plush chair in front of the coffee table between Natalia and Alfred, both sitting on the couch. He reached into his large coat pockets and pulled out a pile of folded papers and unfolded them before placing them on the coffee table.

“These are the papers that Arthur gave me detailing what was found the night of his disappearance.”

Natalia grabbed the first page while Alfred read over her shoulder.

“Signs of a struggle are evident, but not enough to conclude what took place. Books that had been placed neatly by Elizaveta, Gilbert Beilschmidt’s wife, on the window seat in the front had been thrown haphazardly towards the back of the room. There was no sign of what exactly caused him to do this except for the open back window and a dust like pile near his desk. Elizaveta identified the dust as being in the same place as a now gone tall glass vase but was unable to explain how it turned into such a fine powder. The logical conclusion at first was that an assailant climbed the back of the house and into the window that Gilbert would have been facing away from while he worked, but that theory has no ending as there were no sign of tracks in the wet mud or mud on side of the house despite the heavy rain. The only noise heard by Elizaveta that night was the sound of a faint pecking noise that briefly woke Elizaveta up from her sleep, but birds had taken to pecking on windows at night so Elizaveta thought nothing of it and went back to her rest. The next morning when she awoke Gilbert never came to bed and when she went to the office and found the mess and him missing.

Since the writing of this report, no further evidence has been found.”

The rest of the papers were more information on the already given evidence and a sketch of the study.

Natalia leaned back as Alfred took the papers from her to read better. She folded her arms and looked at Vladimir, who had been watching her.

“So the magic we found on the window sill connects all the evidence doesn’t it.”

Vladimir nodded.

“Pretty much. And as soon as Arthur comes we can start a trail towards the culprit.”

Natalia raised her eyebrows while Alfred asked,

“How are we going to do that exactly? I guess it has something to do with the beetle?”

Nodding, Vladimir patted the pocket with the beetle inside.

“In a way, yes. Arthur will know exactly how it works and can explain it better than I could. That sort kind of finding magic isn’t my specialty.”

Natalia, who had turned to look out the window behind them, turned fast with her platinum hair flying in whirl around her and smacking Alfred in the face.

“What does that mean?!”

Alfred held a hand over his left eye, which Natalia’s hair had prodded, and lifted a hand.

“Natalia, what you’re about to hear will be a little shocking and I- no we- need you to not freak out and think rationally.”

Her glare pierced him.

“Who are you to tell me to think rationally.” She snapped. Turning her glare to Vladimir, who had his head tilted to the side and was studying her.

“What did- “

“No need to repeat yourself Natalia, the answer is really simple. I can use magic.”

He said it casually, but it had a slight hint of it being forced, and Natalia was sure she was the only one who picked up on it.

That didn’t stop her from folding her arms and crossing her legs, her expression turning stony.

“Magic. As in you can do more than just sense it. Is that right.”

Vladimir nodded.

“Yep.”

He held up his hand as Natalia and Alfred both opened their mouths.

“Is that going to be a problem Natalia? Cause if it is, I’m afraid you can’t be on this team.”

Natalia snapped her mouth shut. Vladimir leaned forward and clasped his hands in front of him, his red eyes filled with an intenseness that never left Natalia’s own eyes.

“I don’t know what happened to make you distrust magic users, but we can’t have that type of judgment clouding your vision on this search.”

Natalia bristled, her hands clenched so tightly the knuckles were starch white.

“Why should that matter? We are going after criminals, why would it be bad if my “clouded judgment” as you say, made me view them as such?”

“You have to understand Natalia that since we are dealing with Magic users, the chance of them being from Cigam is great.” Vladimir clenched his hands together tighter in a miniscule movement. “And Cigam… Cigam treats its people differently from here. If you can use magic, you’re forced to do whatever royalty wants, you don’t have a choice. So even though the magic users did do something criminal, that doesn’t mean they want to be. And when we catch up to them we need to judge them on character and how they really are, not just on what they’ve done. Then on that, we will decide their punishment. And they will be punished, the magnitude of it depends on their own willingness to do what they did.”

Silence. Vladimir took in a deep breath and closed his eyes briefly, before opening them and his gaze burned into Natalia.

“Tell me Natalia, and answer me honestly, do you think this county’s law against magic users is just?”

Natalia’s breath caught. She didn’t have to answer this, she had no obligation to go along with Vladimir, she was only here because Alfred asked her to be. She had no real reason to answer the question he posed, no reason to start questioning the traditions that she was raised on just because some handsome man with mysterious eyes asked her to. She didn’t need to trust this magic user. Memories flashed through Natalia’s mind, of her parents who were killed mysteriously by magic users, of the pain and torture her older siblings and herself suffered because of it, her mother kneeling in front of her and assuring her that magic wasn’t to be feared but to fear the intent behind it. After that memory, more memories flooded Natalia’s thoughts. Her mother calmly explaining that the things Natalia sees that others don’t isn’t a curse, but a gift. Her father gently placing her on his knee but his voice was strict as he told her to keep her gift a secret. A scene that Natalia had forcefully repressed for years appeared in her mind, and a detail she never noticed before caught her eye, and was the final piece that Natalia needed to make her decision. She exhaled,

“… I think it’s a little flawed. You should have to do something drastic and proven you are a threat against your home before you are kicked out, and I think the branding of the hand is fair in that case as well.”

Natalia sat up straighter, her stare matching Vladimir’s in intensity.

“When you heard I was a magic user, what first went through your head?”

“I thought… that I should have figured it out.” Vladimir raised his eyebrows. “You seep magic as if it air, and I naively assumed it just meant you were more in tune in sensing magic then I was.”

A corner of Vladimir’s mouth twitched.

“Well, you weren’t wrong.” The intensity left his deep eyes and was replaced with a twinkle. “Is there anything else you thought that we should know about?” Natalia shook her head, and Vladimir clapped his hands together in a loud noise that made Natalia flinch slightly and Alfred jump. “Good! We don’t have to worry about that anymore then! Good to know we can trust you on this Natalia, I really would have missed your glare on the back of my head if we had to kick you out!”

Annoyance sprouted in Natalia and she had opened her lips to snark back at him, but the sound of the front door opening interrupted her. Alfred and her almost turned in unison to look as Arthur stepped through the front door. He locked the door behind him then turned and scowled at Vladimir lounging on the chair.

“Always lock the door behind you Vladimir. Honestly, the respect of safety you show in others homes is atrocious.”

Vladimir waved a hand lazily in greeting.

“Hey Arthur, glad you could take time out of your busy schedule to include little ol’ me.”

His response was an eyeroll from Arthur. Striding into the sitting room, Arthur took off his coat, gloves, and hat on as he walked and thoughtlessly placing them onto a rack. His gaze shifted to Natalia and Alfred and he nodded his head to each of them.

“Natalia, glad to see you were able to join us. Alfred, glad to see you survived the Ruse mansion in one piece.”

Natalia nodded and did a modified seating down curtsy. Alfred grinned.

“Of course I survived, the only threat to me there is Natalia, and she values our friendship to much to harm me!” The smoldering glare Natalia sent his way would have frozen someone not used to them in their seats. Alfred, just shifted his mischevious grin towards her and raised his hands straight up.

“Only joking Natalia!...” Her glare dimmed.

“I know for a fact that Ekaterina’s has made a couple recipes that resulted in bed rest for more than a couple people!” He was not able to dodge the cushioned couch pillow as Natalia smothered him with it.

After getting a rundown on what was found, Arthur led them all to a tall bookshelf behind where Vladimir had been sitting. He pulled back a large green book, but it didn't come out all the way and instead tilted onto its edges. A weird whoosh sound came out from the ceiling above, and the entire book case slowly spun to the side to reveal a hidden room. Natalia let her mouth open a little, she hadn't been expecting that. But what was more surprising then the bookcase, was the room behind it.

The walls were lined with shelves, all covered with books and objects that all reeked of magic. In the back of the room was a large cauldron, and beside it a small table covered with vegetation and jars filled with slimy substances. A small round table was to the right of the room, with enough chairs to fit 6 people.

Arthur reached his hand out to Vladimir.

“The beetle Vlad.”

Vladimir handed him the beetle, then looked at Natalia and smiled. He gestured towards the table.

“You and Alfred can sit over there Natalia, me and Arthur will do the magic.”

Natalia felt a desire to see the magic up close, but remembered the danger of it and gladly joined Alfred at the table. She did choose a seat though that gave her a clear view of what they were doing.

Arthur was currently placing the beetle in a mortar and pestle, and telling Vladimir to bring him things off the shelves.

“Over on the right side, row 5 section 9, there should be a jar filled with the dust of the disintegrated vase. Oh, and also over there should be the base ingredients for the spell so grab them to.”

“Is this going to be advanced or basic?”

“Both, if basic doesn't work I'll try advanced.”

Vladimir obviously knew what spell Arthur was talking about, cause he easily found the ingredients Arthur needed. Natalia couldn't identify them all since that part of the room was rather dark, but she did identify a mirror shard and rope. Not the kind of ingredients she was expecting.

“What type of spell is this exactly?” Natalia asked. Arthur didn't look at her but he did answer as he mashed the beetle into bits.

“A tracing spell, I’ll do one to find Gilbert first and see if I can find his location that way, but judging with how well thought out this plan was, it's not likely I'll find him. If they're as smart as they've made themselves seem, they should have put some spells in place to prevent me from doing just that.”

He dumped the beetle remains into the cauldron.

“And then I'll do a more advanced spell to trace the magic back to its user. And then I'll put that enchantment into an object like a necklace or bracelet, that will allow point in the direction of their magic when you tell it to.”

Natalia looked at Alfred, who had an impressed look on his face. Natalia felt it to, she had no idea magic could do that.

Arthur murmured to the cauldron and flames lit underneath. He placed some more stuff into it then turned and looked at Natalia and Alfred.

“This is going to take a while, I suggest you read a book. Feel free to read any book you find interesting in the bookcase. Just don't read any of the books on these shelves.”

Natalia never had the intention to touch any magic infused book. She'll leave the magic to the natural magic users. She didn't go grab a book right away either, instead she watched them work for the first two hours. Observing Arthur in particular to figure out just how he had hidden his magic from her. She could sense it know, but only cause he was choosing to.

How long had she known Arthur? She didn't know him well or to the extent that Alfred did, but she has been around him for years, and she never noticed any trace of magic on him. That bothered her a lot. She always had prided herself on being aware of magic users, being able to sense their magic and see it in them was always reassuring to her, that she could always see them so they could never surprise her. And she hates surprises. But Arthur… he had found a way around her sight. She was determined to find out how.

A shuffling sound, reached her ears, and looking at Alfred she saw him shuffling a card deck. He split it and offered her half, she shrugged and took it. She wasn't finding out anything watching them, she might as well do something else.

#magic comes with a price #chapter 2 is done already!!!! It's a filler ish chapter #I'm going to start writing chapter 3 right away!#the first chapter was really long #16 pages long #the rest of the chapters should not be that long #rombela

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