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#she literally ran into a building that was on fire and got BURNS and the only thing she got out of that experience
kentucky-daisey · 9 months
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I had an autistic student whose special interest was man-made disasters (think sinking ships or plan crashes), which I only found out when there was a fire at work and he excitedly asked me if anyone died.
Great kid. Difficult at times. Absolutely wild having him in my class.
Hope he's doing well.
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nowayspidey · 6 months
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The beetle x The spider.
(Peter Parker x Male!Reader!blue beetle.)
Your ass was on fire. Literally. Burning sensation all over your back along with a throbbing pain that only intensified more and more as soon as you got to the room. Or better said; fell on the room, rolling on the cold floor. Chest rising and falling with no signs of stopping a frantic breathing. Or maybe because Peter let go of you to run and close all the windows in the apartment.
'What's all that sound?' A feminine voice followed Peter steps as he returned with a panicked expression to the room, standing next to you.
That's when you experienced one of the most embarrassing moments in front of your mother-in-law's figure. Peter had slipped the suit off his body, and you.... almost the same. Peter was in his boxers while your's were revealed on the part of your butt. You had gotten up and were on your back checking for injuries. Peter's hand hit your back, catching your attention.
"WHAT?!?!" You snapped angrily.
And yes, you were angry with him. But your anger had blinded you the fact that you were showing your ass to May Parker and Happy Hogan who were now standing at the door-room frame.
'What's going on....? (M/n)..? Can you-- can both of youput on some clothes right now and explain to us what's going on?'
'Yes. May.' Both of you said in unision.
'I don't think I'll ever get used to seeing that beetle embedded in your back (M/c).' Happy had an expression between disgust and curiosity.
'I know. It's unpleasant. But she's sensitive so let's try not to say it out loud.'
But nevertheless, you spoke again first.
'Peter decided to trust a complete stranger on the trip to Italy and NOW after trying to kill us, he revealed our identities!'
'(M/c)!' Peter hissed. He had heard your complaints since you boarded Happy's jet in that tulip field that day on the netherlands.
The two of you had a complicated "relationship."
'Just telling the truth.' You answered, almost eating him with your eyes as you remembered everything that happened in Italy and London.
You spat out the words like venom as you dressed in blue pajama pants and a Hello Kitty shirt you found in Peter's closet.
Helicopters surrounded the building. You ran to the living room in your Hello Kitty pajamas to find every news channel the revelation that Quentin Beck had recorded.
'This is bad. Really bad.' You murmured.
'This is a shithole.' The voice of the beetle responded.
'Yes it is.' You ran a hand through your hair.
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Authors note: i know i took a looong break from writing. But im better (mentally) now and back on trying to write more m/c fics!♡
This is a small series i have planned base on no way home movie x blue beetle movie!!! Also, If you want jaime reyes fics you can drop request at my box ;)
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Latte Love | Wanda Maximoff
Summary: When a new coffee shop opens up across the street from your bakery, you enter into a rivalry with its new owner
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Male Reader
Warnings: Smut (minors DNI), language, mentions of major character death, house fire, mentions of alcohol
Word Count: 7.3K
Masterlist
A/N: This was a request from @aloneodi​.  The prompt was pretty straightforward: enemies to overs with lots of angst and smut.  Enjoy ;)
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For the past two months the construction across the street from your bakery had driven you insane.  The constant sawing and hammering was grinding your gears.  You weren’t sure what was coming in the old storefront.  It had been vacant as long as you could remember.  You were in elementary school when Mr. Neely retired and the building now sat in a state of dilapidated disrepair: the front awning was threadbare, the windows were partially boarded up, and graffiti was spray painted over the brick storefront.  Inside the empty cases gathered dust and cobwebs.  It was a bit of a pleasant surprise when you came to work one day to see a ‘SOLD’ sign taped to the front door. 
“Maybe we should blast some music, give them a taste of their own medicine,” Natasha suggested with a smirk.  Natasha Romanoff was your right hand woman when it came to running the bakery.  Not only was she an accounting whiz and could balance the books in her sleep, she also made a mean creme brûlée.  
“I just don’t understand why it’s taken them so long to remodel.  It’s construction, not rocket science.  What’s going in there anyway?”
“It’s a coffee shop.  I met the owner when I went to the wholesaler the other day,” Sam explained as he dumped another batch of bagels into the bucket.  A slightly intimidating Air Force veteran with the heart of a teddy bear, Sam was your resident bagel maker and donut fryer.  People came from all corners of the state for his famous brownie batter donuts and egg everything bagels,
“So literally the exact same as us?”  You could hardly believe what you were hearing.  The Rolling Scones had quickly established itself as Westview’s premiere (and only) bakery.  Why did someone else need to open up right across the street?
“Hold up, it’s not exactly the same thing.  We’re a bakery that serves coffee and they’re a coffee shop that serves baked goods.  Totally different.”
You shot Sam a glance that immediately made him do an about face and head back to his boiling batch of bagels.  Flour covered fingers ran through your hair as you leaned up against the back counter thinking about all the negative ways this new shop was going to impact yours.
“What are we gonna do, Nat?  I can’t lose this place.”
“Y/N, relax.  It’s just another business.  We’re not going to go out of business just because there’s a new place in town.  If anything they’re the ones who should be worried.  They have to compete with Sam’s bagels.” 
“We could just burn it down!” Peter, the teenager who washed dishes after school and on weekends, added.  “Then we wouldn’t have to worry about them!”
“He’s got a point,” Sam added as the door jingled open.
“Peter!  Arson isn’t the answer here!” Nat rolled her eyes, heading to the back to work on handling the latest invoices.
“But it is a solution,” you teased.  Natasha groaned as she kicked the back room door open.  “Can I help you?” you asked, turning your attention to the customer who walked up to the counter.
“Yeah, I’m looking for a - oh, SAM!  Hi!”  The young woman in front of you raised up on her tiptoes and waved over the counter.
“Wanda hey!”  He walked over, an overflowing basket of hard rolls in his arms.  “Glad you came.  How’s the remodeling going?”
“Good!  My contractor told me that we should be able to open by the end of the month.”
“That’s great news!  Did you pick the name yet?”
“My brother and I argued about it for a while, but we finally settled on Latte Love.”
“You’re the one who bought the old deli?!”  
“Mmhmm.  I always wanted to open a coffee shop and I thought it was an absolutely charming little spot.  So I saved and took out some loans and got it!  I’m Wanda.  Wanda Maximoff.”  The overexcitable brunette shoved her hand out in front of you.
“Y/N L/N,” you responded as you reluctantly clasped her hand.  The last thing you wanted to do was be friendly with the person who was your direct competitor. 
Sam chatted with Wanda, asking her all sorts of questions about the wholesaler and how she was faring getting her deliveries set up.  Your vision went red at the sight of your friend and this despicable woman having a friendly conversation.  Why on earth would he invite her into your shop, the shop your parents worked so hard to build and the one you worked so hard to keep thriving?  The fear of losing the family business permeated your mind on a daily basis.  This wasn’t making it any better…
“Who’s that?” Natasha’s voice snapped you out of your stewing.  She leaned against the counter, sizing up the scene in front of her.
“That’s the new coffee shop owner.  Wanda.  I have no idea why she’s here or why she’s talking to Sam,” you huffed, crossing your arms as you leaned against the counter.
“Someone sounds a little jealous,” Nat teased.  
“Jealous?!”  Your face flushed red with embarrassment.  “You think I’m jealous?  Nat, that’s the woman who’s going to try to steal all our customers!  She’s the enemy here, not the prize!”
Natasha looked at you, then at Wanda, then back at you, and back at Wanda.  “She’s hot.  Think I stand a chance?”
“Can you pretend you’re not gay for like, five minutes please?  Five minutes.  That’s all I’m asking.  I’m not jealous, I don’t want anything to do with her, and I swear to Christ if she’s into chicks too and you sleep with her your ass is so fired.  ANYONE who sleeps with her is outta here!”  As much as you hated to admit it, Natasha was right: Wanda was gorgeous.  She had the perfect figure, her cropped jeans hugging the curves of her hips just right.  The billowy light blue and white button up and oversized sun hat gave her a youthful exuberance that radiated from her glowing face and stunning green eyes.  
“You’d have less of a stick up your ass if you got laid, you know?” she smirked.  Groaning, you headed back toward the kitchen, kicking the swinging door with your foot.  The sweet smell of powdered sugar and freshly baked cupcakes instantly calmed you.  Unsure of how to amuse yourself until Wanda left, you grabbed a cooling rack of cookies and began frosting, turning the sugary discs into half moons.  The repetition of frosting and smoothing calmed you.  With enough time and vanilla Wanda’s unwelcome appearance would soon become a distant memory.
************************************************
Latte Love had been open for almost a month.  The cafe had a slow start initially.  Customers trickled in and out for the better part of two weeks.  For those two glorious weeks you paid no heed to the brunette who could often be found sweeping the sidewalk and arranging the outside tables just so.  Suddenly, something changed.  Before you knew it a line formed outside the locked doors every morning with people waiting to get their morning cup of coffee.  You didn’t pay much attention to it at first, but once you spotted a couple of your regulars in the line your vitriol for Wanda increased tenfold.     
“That’s the third time today they’ve had a line out the door!” Peter exclaimed as he pressed his nose to the glass.
“Thank you for that reminder, Captain Obvious,” you snarked as you counted back change to the lady at the counter.  “Anything else you want to add?”  
Peter quickly recoiled from the glass, a sheepish expression on his face.  “Ned says their coffee is really good….and so are their muffins,” he mumbled.
Oh great.  Now I’ve gotta compete with her pastries, too.  What a bitch…you thought to yourself as you handed the lady back a fistful of coins.  Wanda was frustrating you more and more every single day.  You sighed, taking off your baseball cap and running your hands threw your sweaty hair. 
The door jingled.  Sam and Nat walked in, the two of them eating cookies that suspiciously didn’t look like yours.
“What are those?” you asked.
“You want one?  Wanda gave them to us.  Pietro’s trying out a new recipe for sugar cookies.  They’re honestly not half bad.”  Sam reached into the brown paper bag and grabbed a large cookie, its warmth causing it to bend ever so slightly.
“Goddamn it!  You slammed your cap down on the counter.  In your mind, this was an act of war and you were not going to stand for it.  Who did she think she was, bribing your employees?  
“Y/N, just relax, okay?  Wanda didn’t mean anything by it.  She’s really nice if you get to know her,” Natasha asserted.
“She’s stealing our customers!” you shouted.  “And I can’t believe you guys are eating her food!”
“Dude, relax.  The cookies are good and she’s nice.  Her brother’s cool, too,” Sam added, wiping cookie crumbs from his goatee.  
“Unbelievable,” you mumbled, storming around the counter and yanking the door open.  You were going over there to give her a piece of your mind. 
You didn’t care what customers thought as you pushed Latte Love’s door open.  Lucky for you there weren’t any at the moment, the last one having left moments ago.  You heard the commotion of dishes crashing from the back and a voice you hadn’t heard before mixing with Wanda’s.  As the commotion in the background subsided, it was the perfect opportunity to look around at the transformed deli.  
The new design was rustic chic with exposed brick walls, stained wooden tables, and the same rustic counter that Mr. Neely once stored his meats and cheeses in.  A series of shiny metallic coffee machines sat behind the counter, the shelves above it stocked with containers full of different types of coffee beans.  The front case was stuffed full of various breads, pastries, cookies, and sandwiches.  It wasn’t a bad place at all, and the food didn’t look half-bad either.  She’d actually done a decent job at bringing the old shop back to life.
“Y/N?” You whipped around as Wanda called your name.  She looked exhausted, her face glistening with sweat and powdered sugar as she pushed a rack of cupcakes and sweet breads out of the kitchen.  Her hair was swept up in a messy bun, strands hanging askew as she wiped the sweat from her bow with her arm.  Her black apron was peppered with sugar and frosting stains.  “How are you?  Did Sam give you a cookie like I asked him to?” “Did Sam - what?”
“Oh, I gave him some cookies to try.  Pietro’s working out a new sugar cookie recipe and he needs taste testers so I figured-”
“What are you playing at here, Maximoff?”
“Excuse me?” Wanda tilted her head as she questioned you, her gaze quickly hardening into a stare.
“You heard me.  What are you playing at?  Is stealing my customers not enough for you that you need to go after my employees too?”  
Wanda’s jaw dropped open as she stared at you incredulously.  She laughed, shaking her head as she started unloading the cupcakes.  “Are you for real right now?”
“Before you showed up we’d sell out every single day.  Now more often than not I’m throwing stuff out.  Sales have dropped and I’ve lost regulars that I’ve had for years.  So I’m telling you this now: stay away from me and my staff.”  It was all you could do to not take all your frustration out on her.
“I don’t know what you think’s going on here,” Wanda started, placing the trays neatly in the case.  While she wasn’t outwardly aggressive, she shoved them in there harder than she normally would.  “But you are absolutely insane if you think that I’m trying to steal your customers or staff or whatever.  Sam and Natasha have been nothing but kind to me and Pietro, I just want to return the favor.”
“Well stop.  The last thing I need is for my guys to be fraternizing with the enemy,�� you grumbled, your blood pressure reaching a boiling point as you stared her down, fists clenched tightly at your side.
“Oh, so now I’m the enemy then?” She slammed the tray on the counter, sending loaves of bread tumbling off the sides.   “Jesus, Y/N, what’s wrong with you?  Have you ever stopped to think that maybe people stopped going to your shop because they wanted to try something new or, here’s a novel thought, maybe they like my place more than yours?”
“Fuck you, Wanda!  That place means everything to me!  You have no idea what I’ve done to keep that bakery running and I’m not gonna let your stupid bucket list adventure ruin my life’s work!”
“Get out!” Wanda shouted as she threw a muffin at your head.  Her aim was wide and the pastry hit the wall with a splat as you leaned out of the way.  “Get the fuck out of my store you bastard!”
Your vision tunneled as you stormed out of the shop, not neglecting to flip her the bird as you slammed the door behind you.  Ever since Wanda Maximoff came to town everything had gone completely and utterly wrong.  Everyone seemed to be flocking to her and her business.  Even Sam and Natasha, two of your closest friends in the whole wide world, had taken to her.  It irritated you to no end.  She constantly invaded the deepest depths of your mind, and many nights you awoke in a cold sweat after she invaded your dreams.  There was nothing you wouldn’t do to get her out of your mind: grueling pre-dawn runs, sleepless nights spent getting ahead on cake orders, countless after-work happy hours throwing back whatever alcohol you could get your hands on…anything to get that frustrating, irritating, beautiful woman, out of your mind.
************************************************
After your spat, it was like someone had built the Berlin Wall in the middle of the street.  Patrons realized that something was up with the two shops and most had picked a side.  Lucky for you a majority of the customers you lost returned.  Things finally went back to normal for a while.  Sam and Natasha stopped frequenting Latte Love, or if they didn’t they kept quiet about it.  Natasha reamed you out for the way you snapped at Wanda, telling you to grow the fuck up and deal with it like an adult while Sam became unusually quiet around you.  It was exasperating, but at least you felt like you were in control again.  Yet as things started to go back to normal, there was something looming around the corner that would change your life forever.
************************************************
“Hello?” you mumbled groggily into your phone.  It was the middle of the night and your phone jolted you awake with its abrasive ringtone.
“Y/N, it’s Nat.”  You shot right up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.  She sounded extremely concerned to the point where you were worried.
“What’s wrong?  Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.  It’s the bakery.  It’s-”
You didn’t even let her finish before you hung up, frantically searching for some clothes and your keys as you raced down the stairs of your apartment toward your car.  As you sped down the road toward downtown, an orange glow illuminated the dark buildings while sirens grew ever closer.  
Oh no.  Oh no no no no no.  Please no.  Please.  You white-knuckled the steering wheel, your damp palms sliding as your heart pounded in your chest.  The turn onto the main drag confirmed your worst fears: The Rolling Scone was burning. 
You skidded to a halt almost as soon as you turned the corner.  Fire engines, police cars, and ambulances blocked the area surrounding your store and the other end of the road while firefighters rushed into the burning building.  You jogged down the street, looking for a familiar face in the crowd of first responders.
“Y/N!” Natasha jumped out of the back of an ambulance and came running over to you, a reflective rescue blanket draped over her shoulders.
“Nat!  Oh god, are you okay?”  She threw her arms around you and squeezed you tight.  You instinctively pulled her close, cradling her head with one hand as you wrapped your other arm around her.  
“I don’t know what happened.  I was working on the books in the office before I got started on the donuts and I started smelling smoke, so I walked out there and the kitchen was on fire.  I tried to put it out, but when it got too big I called 911.  It’s all my fault, Y/N.  I’m so sorry.”  Her eyes were brimming with tears as she apologized for the mistake that wasn’t her fault.
“It’s not your fault,” you mumbled against the top of her head.  “I’m just glad you’re okay.”  You held her close to you as she cried into your shirt.  The sight of your beloved bakery burning to the ground in front of you should’ve elicited some emotional response from you, but you felt nothing.  None of what was happening seemed real.  You’d wake up in a few hours, shake off your nightmare, and head back to work like nothing ever happened, but that wouldn’t happen again for a very long time.  Now when you woke up, you’d have to spend the foreseeable future picking up the charred pieces of your livelihood.
************************************************
Gone.  It was all gone.  The last tangible reminder of your parents had gone up in smoke.  Words couldn’t accurately describe just how devastated you were.  The bakery was the way you dealt with the crushing pain of having tragically lost your parents so early in life.  Now your coping mechanism was gone.  You looked around, seeing the charred remains of the booths, the front counter, and the collection of employee and family pictures that hung on the back wall.  One picture in particular caught your eye.  It was you and your parents after the little league championship game the year your team won.  The picture was charred around the edges, half of your mom’s body was burnt off, but it was mostly intact.  You ripped it off the wall, sighing as you stared at the faded memory.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered at your parents’ beaming faces.  You let their dream burn down and with it your last memories of them.
You stayed in the building most of the day.  Natasha stopped by at one point to find you on the floor leaning against what was left of the front counter.  She offered to grab you some food or take you home, but you declined, wanting nothing more than to disappear into the void.  That’s where Wanda found you when she showed up later in the evening.
“Hey,” she said as she crouched under the CAUTION tape.  You ignored her as you stared at the charred photograph in your hand.  She stood awkwardly in front of you, a brown paper bag in one hand and her purse in the other.  Wanda was the last person in the world you wanted to see right now.  You wanted to scream, to tell her to leave you alone, but you didn’t have the energy.
“Please go,” you murmured, flipping the photograph through your fingers.  
She didn’t go.  She walked over to the counter, kicking a piece of charred wood to the side as she sat down next to you.  There was an unspoken tension in the air as neither of you looked at each other: you stared down at the picture, she stared at the brown bag in her hand.  
“Here,” she said as she slid the bag over to you.  Taking a look inside the brown bag, you saw two delicious looking honey butter muffins staring back at you.  “I figured that it’d help you feel a bit better.”  Wanda smiled, her emerald eyes glimmering back at you.  For the first time since you met it made your heart skip a beat.
“You figured that muffins from your still-standing cafe would help me feel better about my bakery burning down?”
“Look I’m sorry, okay?  I’m really sorry about your bakery…” she trailed off as she brought her knees up and hugged them close to her chest.  “It should’ve been my place that burned down, not yours.”
“Don’t say that.”
“But it’s true!  Sam told me all about this place.  How your parents built it from the ground up, how you’ve literally spent your whole life working here, how you dropped out of school after they died to-”
“Please stop,” you interrupted as you felt another lump in your throat. .
“Is that them?” she asked, leaning over to get a better look at the photo in your hand.
You nodded.  “That’s, umm, that’s the day we won the little league championship.  Dad coached my team that year and…”  You trailed off as your eyes filled with tears.  “Umm, this place is the only thing I have left of them, you know?  Coming here every day, it’s almost like they’re still here.  And now that it’s gone I…”  You looked down at the picture as hot tears rolled down your face.  The emotional breakdown that had been brewing all day was finally bubbling up through the cracks.  “Sorry.”
Before you could say anything else, a pair of soft hands wrapped around you and pulled you close.  “It’s okay, you can let it all out,” Wanda whispered.  That was all it took for you to finally break down.  You sobbed into her chest as she held you.  She squeezed you close as she gently rocked back and forth, her fingers gently stroking your hair.  “You’re okay, Y/N.  You’re going to be okay.  I’ve got you,” she soothed.  Your body was wracked with sobs as you finally let everything go. 
Wanda’s touch was calming.  You’d never felt so calm or safe wrapped up in someone else’s arms before.  You never cried in front of anyone, not even Natasha and she was your best friend.  Somehow you knew that Wanda was someone you could trust completely.  “I’m sorry that you’re going through this, but you don’t have to go through it alone,” she whispered in your ear as your sobs started to calm.  You didn’t have enough control to speak yet so you simply nodded into her chest.  Her scent was intoxicating, a combination of sugar, roasted coffee beans, and vanilla blossom shampoo.  You never noticed it before.
“Sorry for getting your shirt wet,” you sniffled as you sat up.  
“Sorry for throwing a muffin at your head,” Wanda chuckled as she reached up to brush a stray tear from her face.  Her hand was incredibly soft as she rested it on your cheek.  You felt your face grow hot, but you weren’t sure if it was from the way she was touching you or the lack of distance between your faces or all of the above.  The knot in your throat instantly migrated down to your stomach as you locked eyes with her.
“ S’okay,” you mumbled as you lost yourself in her deep green eyes.  After staring for a moment too long, you turned your head away and blinked.  She shook her head, realizing for herself the tense intimacy of the situation.  “What kind of muffins are these?” you asked, quickly changing the subject.
“Honey butter.  Pietro found the recipe online and fell in love with them.”  
“I can see why,” you responded with your mouth full.  “They’re good, but I think mine are just a bit better.”
“Shut up,” she answered with a playful smack.
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Over the course of the next few weeks, Wanda came over to your bakery almost every day.  At first it was just to bring you something from the cafe: a cup of coffee and something sweet in the morning or a sandwich after she closed up for the evening.  Her presence soon became a familiar comfort to you and you looked forward to the few moments you spent with her every evening.  Daily food deliveries turned into offers to pick up dinner, and you often found yourself sitting up with her until all hours as you ate and continued the arduous rebuilding process.  Soon enough Wanda was coming over to help you on her days off.
As you spent more time with her, the way you thought about her changed.  You no longer woke up in a cold sweat from nightmares that involved her.  Nowadays when you dreamt about her you woke up with an uncomfortable throbbing in your pajama pants.  Her smile made you weak at the knees and you craved any opportunity to touch her.  She was an incredible woman but you were terrified to tell her how you felt.  
Natasha, of course, had noticed the shift in your demeanor towards her.  “So do I get to fire you when you sleep with her or are you gonna fire yourself?” she teased one night while you were tearing the tile flooring out of the kitchen.
“Fuck off, Nat,” you answered, not steering your attention away from the floor.
“Don’t pretend like you weren’t drooling over her when she wore those shorts in here the other day.  Besides, I see the way you two are when you’re together.”
“She’s just being friendly.  She’s like that with you and Sam too, you know.”
“Y/N, she kept staring at your crotch when you wore those grey sweatpants last week.  Even if she doesn’t like you, and I’m telling you she does, she still wants to fuck you.”
“Right, yeah,” you guffawed.  While you brushed Natasha off, you hoped she was right.  You had caught Wanda staring when you wore your grey sweats last week…and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it.
“You should tell her how you feel.  I’m pretty sure she feels the same way.”
“Nat-”
“She’s over there now.  Just go talk to her.  Ask her out for dinner or something.”
“Nat-”
“Relax, I’ve got everything under control,” she smiled at you.  “Go talk to Wanda.”
You groaned as you pushed yourself up from the hard floor.  “Fine.  But if this all goes wrong I’m blaming it on you!”  You wiped your hands on a rag, throwing it at Nat as you headed for the door.
“It won’t!” she called from the kitchen.  You shook your head, grinning as you pushed the door open and crossed the street to Latte Love.  The store was closed for the evening.  Inside, Wanda was cleaning up, wiping down the tables and counter like she did every evening before making her way to The Rolling Scone.
Wanda looked up as she heard the door jingle.  Her exhausted face lit up at the sight of you.  “Hey you,” she called.  “What’s going on?”
“Not much.  Just helping Nat rip up the tile in the kitchen.  Contractor says he’ll be ready to go by the end of the week for that.”  The words felt like cotton balls in your mouth.  You never got this flustered around her but the thought of telling Wanda how you truly felt about her had your stomach tied in knots.  “How was your day?”
“Good!  Pietro left early for an appointment, so it’s just me closing up.  I was planning on picking up Indian for dinner.  Wanna join me?”
“Yeah, that sounds good.  Listen-”
“Oh!  I got this call for this INSANE order.  This lady wants twelve dozen cupcakes by Sunday.  SUNDAY.  Can you believe that?!”
“Wanda-”
“I mean of course you can, you’ve been doing this a lot longer than I have.  But I mean we’re a coffee shop, not a bakery!  I would’ve sent them to you but, well, you know, it’s a little hard to bake cupcakes when you don’t have an oven.”
“Wanda-”
“So I said ‘Sure, why the hell not?’ and I think that was a mistake because-”
“WANDA!” you said a little more aggressively than you intended. 
“Yeah?” She threw her hand towel over her shoulder.
“Wanda.  I, well, fuck.  Sorry, I’m not good at this.”  Your hands were all sweaty and your knees felt weak.  “Look.  What I want to say is, well, for the past few weeks we’ve…spending time with you…fuck!  Why is this so hard for me to say?”  You ran your fingers through your hair, frustrated that you couldn’t figure out the right words to say.  
Wanda’s quizzical look slowly softened into a smile as she started to put the pieces of the puzzle together.  She looked down at the ground, biting her lip as she threw the towel on the counter right before she jumped up on it, spun around, and hopped off on the other side.  She walked right over to you, stopping less than a foot away as she looked up into your eyes.
“You know, for an emotionally suppressed type of guy, you’re pretty cute when you get all flustered,” she teased.
“Wanda, I-” 
Before you could finish your thought, Wanda grabbed your waist, leaned in, and kissed you.  Your hands somehow found their way to the back of her neck, palms resting on her cheeks as you cupped her head.  Every single coherent thought you had flew out of your brain the second her lips touched yours.  They were just as sweet as you imagined they’d be.  You smiled into her lips, eternally grateful that she had been the one to initiate this in the first place.  She smiled back as you deepened it, capturing her bottom lip between yours.  There was no need for talking, no need for any other explanation.  The dance between your lips told the entire story: you were hers, and she was yours.  The knot in your stomach burst into a million butterflies as every touch ignited a burning sense of desire within you.  
“Wanda, I-” you somehow managed to choke out as she began to kiss the side of your neck.
“There’s a couch in the office and the door locks,” she mumbled.  Her lips grazed your sensitive skin as she spoke and it took everything in you not to let out an offensive moan.
“Lead the way.”  Wanda grabbed your hand and dragged you behind the counter and through the kitchen to the small office in the back of the shop.  You slammed the door shut behind you as Wanda pinned you to it, locking the door with one hand before bringing it back up to roam your body.  She slammed her lips into yours as you grabbed her hips, pulling her flush against your body.  The contact sent a surge of energy through your groin and you knew it would be only a matter of moments before your shorts became unbearably uncomfortable.  
You explored her body as you kissed her, tracing over every curve as she moaned into your mouth at the sensual contact.  She was heavenly.  You decided to change up the intensity of your make out session, swiping your tongue over her lower lip.  She willingly opened up and allowed your tongue to explore hers.  
Before you realized it, Wanda’s hands made their way down your body to the front of your shorts.  She unbuttoned them, stopping right afterwards to palm your throbbing erection.  You nibbled on her bottom lip as she fondled you and she smiled into your mouth in response.  As she pulled your pants and boxers down, you pulled off your t-shirt and threw it off to the side.  
“You’re beautiful,” Wanda whispered as she looked at your naked body for the first time.  She ran her hands over your toned biceps, strong and wiry from years of kneading dough, and your pecs, down your toned stomach before reaching your cock.  She grabbed it with one hand, stroking it gently as she dropped to her knees.
“Wanda,” you groaned as she worked her hands up and down your shaft.  Pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, she lined up her mouth with your tip and swallowed the first part of your penis.  She swirled her tongue around your tip, coating it in saliva before removing her mouth and using it as lube to jack you off.  Your knees felt weak as she took you in her mouth again, bobbing her head up and down your entire length.  She sucked and licked and swirled your cock, hollowing her cheeks as she took you down her throat.  The noises that came from her mouth as she gagged on your length were sinful, but it only made you want her that much more.
At one point she reached for your hand, placing it on the back of her head.  You took that as a sign to do what you wanted, so you moved her head up and down at a speed you liked.  You moaned as you felt the familiar fire burning within you, spurred on by the way Wanda’s eyes watered as she let you fuck her throat.  She grabbed onto your thighs as you pounded into her, nails digging into your flesh as she looked up at you with those pleading green eyes.
“I’m gonna cum,” you moaned as Wanda ripped your hand away from her head, bringing her other hand up to jack you off as she sucked on your tip.  The sudden suction and added stimulation immediately caused you to tumble over the edge as you released down her throat.  She greedily swallowed every last drop.  Having her suck you off like that was a life-changing experience.
Wanda sat back on her heels, wiping the drool from her chin as she gasped for air.  “Nice cock,” she chuckled.  “Hope it feels as good as it tastes.”
“Why don’t we find out?” you teased, offering your hand to her as she stood up.  “But I think you’ve got too many clothes on for that.”
“I think we can take care of that,” Wanda smirked, reaching down to pull her shirt over her head.  “Want to get my pants?” she asked as she reached behind her to undo her bra.
“Don’t have to tell me twice,” you joked as you unbuttoned her jeans.  You slid both them and her panties down her legs before she kicked them off.  “Wow,” you said, taking a step back to admire her.  
“Like what you see, tiger?”
“Wanda, I’m sure you’ve heard this a million times, but you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”  Wanda blushed a deep shade of crimson at your words.  It wasn’t an exaggeration.  She was absolutely gorgeous.
“Thank you,” she whispered sheepishly as she sat on the couch.
You sat down next to her, your eyes darting from one part of her nude figure to the other before you settled back on her lips.  Leaning forward, you kissed her as she fell back on the couch.  It didn’t take much to shift your position so that you were completely on top of her.  You relished the taste of her lips as you kissed and you wanted to savor  the sensation of every second.
“Fuck,” you murmured as you reached a hand down between her legs.  “You’re absolutely soaked, Wanda.”  She whined as you drew a finger up the length of her cunt, teasing around her engorged clit.  “You do that to me every day.  I go home soaking wet and fuck myself thinking about how good you’d feel inside me.”  She bucked her hips against your hand, desperate to relieve the ache building within her.  “God, I want you in me so bad, Y/N.”
“Jesus,” you whispered through gritted teeth as your erection swelled at her words.  “And here I was trying to figure out how to tell you how the first thing I do every morning is jack off to the thought of you.”
“I guess we both have filthy minds then,” she grinned.  Her face was flushed with arousal, the redness spreading down her neck and onto her breasts.  “Fuck!” she exclaimed as you dipped a finger ever so slightly inside her before quickly pulling out.  “Please just fuck me!”
“You’re cute when you beg,” you sighed as you lined yourself up with her entrance.  You teased her with your tip, rubbing it up and down her slit and over her lips and clit before barely pushing your head in.  She whined, rolling her hips in a feeble effort to lower herself onto you.  
“Y/N please-” Wanda’s words turned into a sharp cry as you slammed your entire length inside her.  Her pussy was absolute heaven.  She was warm and wet, her slick velvety walls engulfing you and squeezing in all the right places. 
“Oh my fucking god,” you croaked.  You laid over her for a minute, trying to regroup yourself enough so you wouldn’t immediately blow your load inside her.  As she adjusted to your intrusion and you calmed yourself down, you began to roll your hips against her, thrusting in and out.
“Shit,” she gasped.  Wanda rolled her hips in time with yours, meeting you as you thrust your length all the way inside her.  You continued at a steady pace, the sounds of her wet pussy being the only noise in the room.
“Are you okay?” you asked, noticing Wanda’s eyes were screwed shut.
“Feels really good.  Can you go faster?”  Not wanting to disappoint, you began to pound into her.  Her mouth gaped open at your newfound intensity as she reached up to wrap her arms and legs around you.  “Oh fuck, right there.”
The couch shook under the duress of your movements.  You pounded into Wanda, her tight hole stretching perfectly around your cock with every thrust.  Sweat beaded on your forehead as you grunted from exertion.  Your moans and groans, along with the squelching of Wanda’s pussy, filled the room.  As you pounded into her cunt, your cock disappearing within her wet folds, Wanda’s moans became louder and more erratic.  “You close, baby girl?”
Wanda nodded, wrapping her legs tighter around your midsection.  “My clit,” she choked out.  You helped her move one of her arms from your back to the sensitive spot.  She circled it furiously, a loud groan tearing from her chest.  “Faster,” she commanded.
You doubled down on your efforts and hammered into her dripping cunt.  The way her walls fluttered and clenched around you told you she wasn’t far away from her orgasm.  The way she tightened around you sent that familiar coil through your lower abdomen.  It wouldn’t be much longer until you reached your climax as well.
“I’m gonna cum,” she whined.  You pounded into her as fast as you could, groaning as your hips slammed against her swollen pussy.  Her hand circled her clit furiously.  Wanda came with a loud groan, her back arching off the couch as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed down on her.  Her walls throbbed and clenched rhythmically around you, the intense sensation finally causing you to cum as you released your thick load of cum deep inside her.  Wanda dug her nails deep into your back as you absolutely ruined her.
“Fuck I love you,” you gasped as you collapsed on top of her from sheer exhaustion.  Blood pounded in your ears and black dots peppered your vision as you recovered from the best orgasm you ever had.  
“You love me?” Wanda asked, her eyes blown wide with desire from the afterglow of her incredible orgasm.
“Shit, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said that.”  A sense of panic overtook you as you stared down at Wanda.  
“No it’s okay.  I mean, I feel the same way,” she admitted, smiling back up at you.
“Really?”
“Mmhmm” 
You chuckled as you leaned down to kiss her.  “Guess I have to quit my job now.” 
Wanda looked at you with a confused expression.  “What?” she asked as she cocked an eyebrow.
“I told everyone that they’d be fired if they slept with you, so I guess I’ve gotta quit.” 
“I love you,” Wanda giggled as she shook her head.
************************************************
“So let me get this straight: we’re merging with Latte Love after you threatened to fire us if we talked to Wanda?” Sam crossed his arms as he sat on the newly reconstructed front counter.  You had called the team together to announce the new business venture you were about to embark on.
“Okay first off I only threatened to fire you if you slept with her.  Talking to her would’ve resulted in a stern talking to and overnight donut duty for a week.  Second, it's not a merger so much as it is a partnership.  Both businesses will operate independent of one another, but now we’re going to start carrying some of their baked goods,” you explained.  Everyone looked at you in utter disbelief, unable to fathom your sudden shift in the way you viewed Latte Love.
“What changed?” Nat asked, tapping her pen against the table.
“Oh you know…stuff…things,” you murmured sheepishly as your face reddened.
“Oh my god!”  Nat’s eyes widened in realization as she stood up. “You slept with her!”
“Dude what?!  That’s so -” Peter exclaimed before Sam slapped his hand over his mouth to shut him up.  You pinched the bridge of your nose as you looked up at the ceiling.  Natasha was laughing at the irony of the whole situation before she lambasted you with questions.
“How long has this been going on?  Wait, was it a one time thing?  Oh, it was definitely the time I made you go over there to talk to her when we were ripping up the floor.  And you told me you two just talked.  Talking my ass…Is this a business deal, like sex in exchange for pastries?  Are you two a thing?  I should’ve guessed with how much time you’ve been spending over there and how you never want to do anything fun with me anymo-”
“Nat, will you please shut up?!”  Her endless questions were exasperating.  Yes, you and Wanda were in fact a thing but you hadn’t told anyone about it.  You hadn’t even told Nat about your back office hookup even though it happened two months ago.  There was so much going on with rebuilding the bakery and dealing with insurance claims that you wanted to keep this part of your life private.  “I just think it’d be a good idea for both of us, maximize our profits, boost both of our busin-”
“Hey babe, is there any way you can come help me with the rest of the-” Wanda paused as she barged in on your team meeting.  “Oh hi guys!”
“Mmhmm, it’s definitely good for both of you,” Nat smirked as she took a sip of her coffee.  You shot her a warning look while Wanda stood utterly oblivious to the scene unfolding around her.  “Go on, go help your girlfriend with whatever she needs.  I’ll show Peter how to do the bagels.”
You smiled at Wanda as you headed toward the door.  “So what do you need my help with?”
“Nothing,” Wanda responded as she reached for your hand.  “Just wanted to spend some time with my favorite guy.”
“Don’t let Pietro hear you say that.”
“That’s okay, he already knows.”  She squeezed your hand reassuringly as you crossed the street.  
You smiled as her grip tightened around your hand.  Six months ago there was no way to predict that the woman who ruined your life would ultimately become the greatest thing that ever happened to you.  As you crossed the threshold from your bakery to her cafe, you were grateful to be able to call The Rolling Scone, Latte Love, and Wanda home. 
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somber-sapphic · 11 months
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Hi!! Um so I just read your Carina DeLuca x Maya Bishop x Reader and now I’m opposed. Your writing got me into this ship and this show bahaha- and speaking of your writing I f*cking love it. Literally lights up my day/days whenever I read one of your posts and I get so excited ahaha so legitimately thank you🥲 if possible could you do another one of Carina DeLuca x Maya Bishop x Reader? Idrc about what prompt, just like a bad situation, to worse to better you know. If you don’t want to write for them I’d love to read another WandaNat x Reader🫣 (but if u really need a prompt something like insult to injury) thank you!
I hope you’re doing okay and it’s okay if you aren’t <3 and hopefully u are taking care of yourself. I’ve been reading ur fics for ages so if u ever need like a randoms imaginary shoulder to cry on I’ve got you ;) 🌸
Worse Alone
I am so, so sorry it took me so long to get to you 🌸! I can't express in words how much what you said means to me though, like (and I say this a lot, I know, but it's true) stuff like this truly gives me so much motivation. I love you so much and I will give you my imaginary shoulder any day that you need it. Btw, you don't have to sensor your swears unless you truly want to, I am the queen of obscenities <3
[[Summary]] Smoke and semi-working lungs don't go too well together. But you have a job to do. (marina x reader)
Word Count: 1.8k
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A five-hour blaze wasn’t something that anyone wanted to deal with, but it was something that you and your team knew how to deal with. Of course, it was dangerous for everyone around, but it was also thrilling. You all ran into fires for a reason, the eight of you were adrenaline junkies who felt the irresistible need to save lives. 
Every so often after a particularly rough day Maya, Carina, and you would just curl up together in bed, no one sleeping despite how exhausted the three of you would be. The brunette would alternate between stroking your hair and rubbing Maya’s back, cushioned in between the two of you as if she needed the pressure to prove to her that you both were safe. 
To call today a ‘rough day’ would be an understatement. Thankfully everyone had survived, but a young woman had been sent to Grey Sloan with severe burns, screaming about her baby. The baby, a severely annoyed two-year-old, was thankfully fine. The little boy had been distracted fairly quickly as the other paramedics checked him over, focusing on the stethoscope which he for some reason found absolutely fascinating. 
His mother was rushed to the burn unit but from what you and everyone else knew she was holding strong and the boy's other mom was taking care of him. That wasn’t the worst part though. The worst part was that your body was utterly pissed with you for deciding to treat it so badly and it was taking it out on you at the worst possible time. 
You had done the best that you could when it came to fighting the blaze, resisting the urge to attach yourself to an oxygen tank even when you were outside of the house, away from the smoke. Entering the house was an atrocious idea, but your girlfriend was in there. You had ignored Andy’s orders and raced to rescue the woman you loved.
The blonde knew that you weren’t feeling very well, she had heard you coughing in the bathroom before the call had come in and had tried to convince you to go home. Then of course the alarm sounded and there was nothing that either of you could do. Sure you wanted to be anywhere but inside a burning building with your lungs already starved for oxygen, but it wasn’t like you had much of a choice. 
Maya was fine, momentarily hindered when a piece of the roof collapsed leaving her needing to find a new way to get herself out. You had helped despite her protests that she could do it on her own and that you needed to leave. Instead of doing what she asked of you, you took the time to help her get out, working strategically and quickly around the debris. 
You made it through without passing out even a little bit and the fire was finally extinguished. When you got outside you pulled your helmet off and half stumbled over to Ben in search of oxygen. He noticed your struggle and passed over a mask, asking repeatedly if you were okay as you sat down on the bumper of the Aid Car, your gear practically pulling you down. Gravity was not working in your favor. 
“Y/n, let me take your jacket off,” Ben ordered, sounding like a doctor. He was a doctor. The damn man had too many careers, it sometimes frustrated you just how accomplished he was. 
“Back off, Probie.” You rasped, shrugging him away. Technically you had rank over him, so technically you could order him around. The loophole totally worked for you as long as it mean that he’d leave you alone. You didn’t have any problem with Ben as a person, he was actually a pretty nice dude, but you had absolutely no wish to be ‘Doctored’ right now.
You were expecting to be yelled at, but thankfully Andy hadn’t come over to shout while you were still on the scene. You could see her casting you frustrated looks while she talked to your girlfriend, but left it alone. That only lasted until you got to the station.
“L/n!” Andy yelled, stomping over to you. She looked angry but also concerned. Maya was beside her, wearing a similar expression. “What the hell were you thinking? You endangered every one of us!” The captain snapped, glaring down at you. 
You stood to meet her gaze, trying to look less weak than you felt. Fighting her on this was probably a poor decision, but you had no intention to take this lying down. 
“I was doing my job, Captain.” You bit back. Andy bristled at the comment, rage hardening in her eyes. The woman beside her bit back what would definitely be a remake would probably upset everyone and reserved herself to a slight shake of the head. 
“Check. Your. Tone. L/n. I am your boss, not your punching bag. I don’t care that you aren’t feeling well, that doesn’t give you an excuse to be an ass. You could have gotten yourself and others hurt.” Now it was your turn to bristle. 
“Maya was trapped, she needed-”
“She needed you to do what you are told instead of ignoring direct orders. You aren’t the only one on this team Y/n, do you understand that? If you ever do something so stupid again I will have you suspended. For now, you will be taking two weeks paid leave. Take care of yourself. Come back when you’re done making stupid decisions.” Her voice softened on the last sentence, expression fading from stern boss to worried friend. 
You sagged slightly, shrugged, and looked over at Maya in hopes to find support there. 
“Come on Y/n. Carina’s off today, I bet she’ll make you some soup.” She held out a hand and part of you didn’t want to take it. Part of you wanted to prove yourself to your boss, but Maya’s offer was too good to pass up. Carina made the best soup and she was always so good at knowing exactly what you needed. 
You took the hand and allowed yourself to be led out of the station, ignoring everyone’s kind words and well wishes. Maya got you situated in the car, both of you silent. She was incredibly gentle, brushing your hair away from your face and lingering a bit with her touches, but she was still frustrated with you. It was okay, you understood. You had scared her. 
The ride home was quick and quiet. You were half asleep and Maya was listening to the radio, your cough overpowering the soft music. Carina would probably insist that you sleep with at least two humidifiers tonight, but it wouldn't matter, at least you’d be with them. 
You let your eyes slip closed and you leaned against the cool window, shivering in your loose clothes. You wanted your bed and someone to hold you. Unfortunately, you’d have to wait for those things. They’d probably make you shower before you were allowed to climb into the bed.
You were right. The second you got into the house Carina was all over you, asking a flurry of questions and speaking in rapid-fire Italian about your condition. Normally you loved to listen to speak the language that you didn't understand, but now it was just messing with your mind. 
She had ordered you and Maya into the bathroom, promising to have your room made up with whatever she believed that you would need to feel better. The shower was nice enough. Maya washed your hair, allowing you to lean back against her in your exhaustion. It was tough to stay standing, but she was there, making sure that you would be okay. 
“M’sorry.” You rasped, blinking teary eyes at the worried looking blonde. She tilted her head to the side and smiled, gripping your elbows tightly. 
“Babe, I just want you to be safe. I’m sorry you don’t feel well. I wish that you had told one of us sooner, then you would have gotten to be with Carina all day. It could have been a good day, not an awful one. Okay?” You nodded your understanding and sniffled softly, your nose running in what you were sure was a disgusting way. Maya looked at you lovingly nonetheless. 
When the brunette said that she was going to get everything you could possibly need, she had really meant it. The room that the three of you shared was decked out in everything one would want for a sick day. Boxes of tissues, a mug of tea on the bedside sitting beside a glass of apple juice, three humidifiers, a bottle of cold medicine, a fluffy blanket, and extra pillows.
“You did that pretty fast, Car.” You forced out, climbing into the bed with the help of both of your girlfriends. Maya followed and wrapped her arms around your waist, holding you close while Carina measured out a dose of medicine. 
“Si, I work quickly. Now open your mouth, I want to see how high your temperature is.” She was in work mode right now, they’d be time for joking after you did what you were told. You pouted but opened your mouth, holding the thermometer under your tongue. The brunette carded her fingers through your hair as you waited for the reading, looking utterly disappointed. 
“102.3, oh Y/n, no wonder you do not feel well. Take this, alright? Then you can go to sleep.” She kissed your forehead, prompting you to obey her wishes. You were a sucker for physical attention, even more so when you were sick. 
The medicine tasted like you licked a fake plastic cherry and stung your throat, but it was what it was. Both women smiled when you finished it and you got twin kisses on each of your cheeks. These women were amazing. 
You felt your eyes fill with tears and you ducked your head, not wanting to show them that you were about to cry. That was just too much, they didn’t need to deal with your unnecessary emotions at the same time. 
“Oh baby, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” Maya crooned, tilting your chin back up so that you were forced to meet her crystal blue eyes. You felt Carina’s arms slip around your waist as she sat on your other side and that was about all that you could take. 
You broke into stifled sobs and pressed your head against the blonde's shoulder in search of comfort. You didn’t want to talk about it, you just wanted to cry. Which was stupid, because earlier you had been completely fine. Now you were bawling like a baby in the arms of your girlfriends. 
Neither of them said anything while you cried, they just let you, holding you close until you were too tired to cry anymore. You didn’t actually remember falling asleep, all that you knew was that one minute it was dark out, and the next you were laying down with your head on Carina’s chest, both of the women asleep beside you. 
Your body still hurt and you still felt disgusting, but at least you weren’t alone. Being sick and alone was worse than being sick with people who loved you.
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wisecrackingeric-2 · 7 months
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SPOILERS FOR SEPERATE WAYS UNDER CUT N O T OPEN IT IF YOU DONT WANNA SEE EM!!!!!!!!
Here’s my little tiny exploration of Luis’ character because it is my god-given duty to pull him apart and analyse him
• Ok so first off………. THE OPENING SCENE??????????? Oh my god there’s S O MUCH TO TALK ABT. Yes Luis dancing is hot as SHIT but also???????? He was about to get TORTURED and MURDERED and he STILL decided to have fun with it and do a lil dance?????? That’s so!!!!!!!!!! He wants to live out his fantasies right until the end!!!!! He truly does think his confidence can get him anywhere!!!!!!! And then when the dance ends he’s READY TO FISTFIGHT THE MONKS?????? NO WEAPONS HES FULLY ABIUT TO GO FISTFIGHT THEM???? He KNOWS it’s a loosing battle but he’s gonna fight tooth and nail to the very end!!!!!!!!!!!
• Also when he turns to face the person who was also dying in the cell and says “this next dance is for you brother” and we get a close up of his face……….. god it hurts to know that that was a person. Somebody who was beautiful in their own right and maybe even somebody who meant something to Luis. Even in the face of death Luis sees the beauty in it ARGHGAGWHSGSB
• Also also I’m sure SOMEBODY could find meaning behind the Flamenco (somebody more knowledgeable in Spanish culture than me) but I’ve heard some people say it symbolises capture and death???? CAPCOM HOW DARE YOU HURT ME SO
• I LOVE that we get to see a more relaxed side of Luis around Ada and less of his flirtiness and damn. It’s so obvious he and Leon are in Love. He’s trying soooooooo hard to impress Leon every time they talk by being super flirty with him and then whenever he’s with Ada he’s a total nerd he’s soooooooooooooo in love w that blonde twink
• GODDAMN THAT FIRE SCENE. WHAT I S N T THERE TO TALK ABOUT??????? First of all the paralells between his childhood where he watched his grandfather die in a fire?????? Also he FULLY RAN INTO A BURNING BUILDING AND ALMOST DIED J U S T TO GET LEON HIS MEDICINE????????????? HE CARES ABOUT LEON SM I WANNA RIP SOMETHING APART. He didint wanna see Leon die in the same way his Grandfather did because he couldn’t save his Grandfather back then!!!!!!!!!!! He wants to make things right!!!!!! HE WAS LITERALLY ON HIS HANDS AND LNEES CRYING I CANT I CANT
• Also ADA CARES ABT LUIS SM,,,,,,,, SHE RAN INRO A BURNING BUILDING TO SAVE HIM AND MAKE SURE HE DIDINT DIE,,,, THE BESTIES EVAH
• godDAMN that scene where Luis heals Ada?????? I LOVE that we see him hesitate for a good solid few seconds on wether or not he should run away from her or stay,,, wether or not he should go back to his usual habits of running away from the people he loves or stay to help,,,, ANS HE STAYS TO HELP BECAUSE HE CARES ABY ADA AND ALSO??? ADA BEING LIKE “leave me here……… besides…… you’ve got a promise to keep……..” OOOOOOOUGGHHH SHE KNOWS,,,, SHE KNOWS HOW MUCH LEON MEANS TO HIM I CANNOG RN also that lil apothecary thing he had was sooooo gender of him
•OH MY GOD HIS DEATH SCENE WHERE HE CALLS HER?????????????? I don’t remember EXACTLY what he said and I’d have to comb through like hours of footage to find it again but,,,,,. THE FACT THAT HE CALLED HER TO SAY GOODBHE????? HE CARES ABOUT HER RIGHT UMTIL THE END?????? AND HE CALLS HIMSELF HER ‘Good Samaritan’ IN THE SAME WAY HE CALLS HIMSELF DON QUIXOTE TO LEON AOAOAISAUJSSOSISKS,,,,,, and then he’s like “sorry I’ve gotta go Leon needs my help ;)” OUGH,,,,, I’m gonna reference another post from my mutual but it’s so sad that Luis got to spend the rest of his life with Leon but not the other way round………………..
• I’m so glad we got to see more of Luis and more of his personality when he’s not tryna swoon the blonde twink he’s in love with BXNSBEHEJXIAIS he feels like such a deep and real human being especially whenever he interacts with Ada and I just,,,,,,,,,, sigh. He’s my favourite character for a reason. 10/10 no notes
• Edit: also the parallels between Luis calling himself Ada’s ‘Good Samaritan’ and Leon his Sancho like AAAAAAAAAA???? You could pick apart the meaning and argue abt how good samaritans are usually friends and Sancho is a code word for Gay Lover in a lot of old fashioned Spanish bars like how ‘friends of Dorothy’ was but ANSNWUENDUNXXUNDDHXN SHUT UP I can’t rn
•Also I’m SURE you could pull some symbolism from the bugs and from Luis having an apothecary as catholic self-exorcism and how ‘science is the roof of all evil’ and Luis is using it to help others etc etc etc……….
Also if anyone else finds anything abt luis lore wise like how you have to find a picture of his grandfather or of him with Umbrella in the original PLEEEEAAAAASSSWE SHOW ME I NEED MORE LUIS BACKSTORY I NEED IT IN MY VEINS
• ALSO ALSO EDIT: the fact that one of the ingredients for his cure are butterfly wings???? And butterflies symbolise CHANGE????? HIS ENTIRE ARC IS ABT CHANCE??????? I’m actually gonna be sick.
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elvisabutler · 1 year
Text
watch the smoke pour out the doors
summary: elvis presley, the real elvis presley, not whatever they like claiming is the man should be dead. at the very least he should be looking about two decades older than the man in front of you. and yet. elvis presley wishes the las vegas hilton- formerly the international- was a pile of rubble or ash. he enlists your help after a chance meeting. fandom: elvis presley | elvis ( 2022 ) | austin butler rating: m pairing: elvis presley x female reader word count: 8012 warnings: major character death! choking. stalking behavior. the colonel being the worst. being trapped in one place. general depression. elvis is an asshole in this. fade to back sex ( p in v ). kind of yandere elvis? blood. vampire bites and general vampire shenanigans. mention of burn scars. fire in relation to buildings. excessive use of nicknames like lil bunny and spitfire. author’s note: heed that first warning y'all. this does not have a happy ending. i've had this brewing since september/october of last year and it's partially based on @venus-haze's vampire elvis headcanons seen here. so what really stuck with me in her comment about the fact that she took "I’ve been playing this mausoleum for 1,000 years" and ran with it. i took bits and bobs from her headcanons and ta da. also the fire i reference happening in 1981 did actually happen. i hope y'all like this even if this ending is a doozy. y'all know the drill real elvis or austin elvis can be imagined- if the moodboard didn't clue you in. also for musical vibes i have literally only ever really truly listened to meant to be yours from the heathers musical. also i did not add a tag list because this is- this is a fic and i was not about to make any of y'all tumble into it without wanting to.
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Las Vegas is hot and is so sun filled that you hate it. You've always hated it but that might not have been the city's fault. Once upon a time you thought it would be your salvation but isn't that always the joke with everyone when it comes to the city. The salvation away from LA, because if you fail there Las Vegas will welcome you with open arms and remind you that what happens there stays there. It keeps you from going back to Memphis with your tail between your legs and being forced to tell your parents that you failed at your big dream. The dream that they supported you on but always figured you'd fail at. Your job pays the bills and you keep your clothes on, which considering the amount of bills you have, well that was a feat for you to achieve.
Working the front desk at the Las Vegas Hilton was challenging, mostly due to the customers with their requests that occasionally bordered on silly and nonsensical but you could handle it. It was nothing too horrible and there was certain pleasure in learning that you managed to pull off keeping some of the higher class- the celebrity clients happy. Of course, nights like this- busy nights with half your staff gone because of any number of problems- made you want to set fire to the building so that you didn't have to deal with this job. Your boss has you running around in what you swear is every direction until she physically stops you with her hands, gripping your shoulders and forcing you to stay put for just a minute.
"Elvis wants a delivery to his room." She says, her face twisting into one of sheer displeasure.
You raise your eyebrow and shake your head. "You mean the Elvis impersonator up in the penthouse. Why does everyone insist on calling him Elvis? We all know it's not him him- like-" The look she gives you is one you've realized means you need to shut up right in that exact moment because if you didn't you were liable to get yourself in a whole lot of trouble so you swallow the rest of your sentence and roll your eyes. "Got it, me and penthouse and his delivery of whatever to his room. Got it."
Your boss mouths a quick thank you before pointing to the kitchen area. It doesn't take you very long to reach there despite your heels and aching feet but it does take the kitchen staff a minute to realize you're standing there all gussied up ready to take whatever it is Mr. Presley wants. What he wants is apparently a feast befitting of a king- heh- and more packs of cigars than you thought one human being capable of smoking in any reasonable time frame but you remember those pictures of him back in the day. The pictures you'd see in your parents' house, in your grandparents' house of him smoking something. Maybe it was just someone who was honestly committed to the bit even if it meant wrecking their lungs and their voice. Once you actually manage to get everything, it's a surprisingly quick walk to the elevator and to the penthouse. For once your heels don't wobble as they have an annoying tendency to do so when you get this much stuff needing to be carried and you easily make it to the door of the penthouse and knock only to realize that your series of knocks have made the door open all on its own.
The room itself is dark, the curtains drawn so not even the light of the strip finds its way into it. It feels not like a tomb, you reason, with the temperature reaching levels that feel almost as if you've entered one. The cold wraps around you and has you shivering in your light blouse and work pants as you look for a free space, a table really to set down the items he requested. Your eyes struggle to adjust to the lack of light but you manage to avoid hitting anything and set the tray onto what you're mostly positive is a table- be it an end table or an actual dining table. You straighten up after you set it down and something feels off to you, feels as if you're being watched. That can't be though, yes Elvis- or whoever it's supposed to be up here had requested the items but that didn't mean they were stalking you from the dark.
Except the feeling doesn't go away and you know so very well that you ought to move, that you should get out of the room and back downstairs where it's busy and you don't feel the faint sensation of worrying that you'll be murdered. You don't though, it's as if your feet are firmly planted in that spot, like you want to see just why you're feeling this particular way. After what feels like an eternity you feel the air around you shift, a small gust of warmth pass by your back and that is the cue for your body to finally turn around. What you see when you turn around shocks you to your very core and makes you think you've got to be hallucinating.
It's like you've seen a ghost when you realize who you're staring at in the darkness of the room. There's always been whispers that Elvis is actually still alive, that he's alive and the person who's been recording the music and performing shows was still him. After all, despite so much information about his relationship with his manager coming out there was no lawsuit coming from the family and that had to mean he was alive. Looking at the man in front of you, looking at the parts you can see of his face that aren't obscured by a half mask over his face- you think they might be right just not in the way everyone assumed. After all, if you take off the mask, the man in front of you looks like he hasn't aged a day since about 1972 or maybe 1974.
Your parents had pictures of him plastered among the walls of your childhood home so you're familiar with the shape of his jaw, his nose and those eyes- those stunning blue eyes. You're familiar with all the facial features that make up one Elvis Presley and seeing them up close and personal as opposed to on stage? There's no mistaking who's in front of you. It's Elvis fucking Presley in the flesh, looking nowhere near the almost 60 he should be. His eyes though- the eyes you're looking at are just as stunning as the blue ones you've always heard about but you can see a hint of what looks like red in the pupil. It confuses you enough to have you moving closer to him to investigate. He raises an eyebrow and tilts his head.
"That's new. Most of ya jus' hide and run away like scared cats." He huffs, allowing you to step closer and peer at his eyes.
"Do I seem like most people, Elvis?" You ask, you accent thickening as your hand against your will finds its way to his mask-covered cheek in an effort to pull him closer, only to have him practically snarl at you and grab your wrist.
"Do that and I'll rip your throat out with my teeth." His warning is accompanied by his eyes narrowing and his canines finding themselves on full display, showing you just how dangerous he could be. Yet, you find yourself raising your own eyebrows.
"Ya mean like you've done with a lot of my former coworkers?" It's suddenly making sense, how a lot of the times girls who went up here wouldn't come back and would suddenly have family emergencies. "Ya said it yourself, most of us jus' hide and run away. Do I look scared?"
The laugh that leaves his mouth sounds downright evil and sinister, like he truly is a devil waiting to ruin anyone who comes near him and you can't help the rush of arousal and fear that shudders through your system. His grip tightens on your wrist. "Oh, darlin'. Ya don't look it but that heart o' yours. Oh, she's betrayin' ya like nothin' else. Tellin' me you want to bolt like a lil scared bunny."
You hate how you swear you can feel your heart jump at those words, proving him right in the worst sort of way. You want to argue with him, want to tell him that his hearing must be going off and he's hearing someone else's heartbeat but you know better- you know from the glint you see in his eyes that there isn't a chance for that lie to fly. Instead you purse your lips and move to pull your wrist out of his grasp. "I haven't yet. And ya haven't tried to kill me yet."
His grip loosens but he takes the opportunity to pull you closer just enough so when he leans forward his lips are brushing your ear as his whisper is practically a short brush of air against it. "Yet." Finally, he lets go of your wrist and steps away from you, his eyes darting to the tray you brought. "All in one piece. You are better than the rest of 'em."
If anyone else were to say that, if you had heard it from an Elvis that looked the age he was supposed to be and didn't look like Dracula you might have preened, enjoying the compliment for what it was. Hearing it from him? Hearing it from a man who you feel will murder you the second you turn your back? All that accomplishes is making you shiver in fear. When you look at his face you see a grin that tells you that's exactly what he wanted to see.
You realize in that moment that you need to leave, you don't know if Elvis is planning on trying to hurt you or if he's just toying with you. Either way it's- it sets you on edge enough that your feet that had seemingly forgotten how to move manage to remember how as you turn away from Elvis, not bothering to give him a response beyond what your body had already inadvertently done.
"There we go, there's that runnin' I'm used to." Elvis chuckles, allowing you to move further away from him slowly inching to the door. "Even if ya practically movin' slow as molasses. Scared but bein' smart 'bout it, ain't cha?"
An answer dances on the tip of your tongue, a joke or a quip about how you'd be a fool to turn your back on a predator or to bolt from a predator. Either way you'd be seen as his prey and arguably easy prey at that. The answer dies on your lips as you feel a rush of air by you and see Elvis opening and holding the door to his room open for you. His grin looks full of promise and is all teeth in a way that sets you on edge.
"Go on, darlin', I'll let ya go. Ain't like I can't find ya 'round here." His eyes rake over your form and you'd think you'd be disgusted as you normally are when someone looks at you like that. Instead you have to suppress the shiver of something that passes through you. "'Specially if ya do that."
You don't dignify his words with a response as you exit hearing some whisper of the word fun and a dark laugh. If the speed of your steps increase once the door shuts. Well, that was your own business between you and whatever God saw fit to abandon you just a bit ago.
As it turns out Elvis is a very persistent man- a fact not tempered and instead heightened by the years he's lived. True to his word, he did know exactly where to find you though actually meeting up with you seemed to be beyond his reach. No, instead you found yourself being bombarded with gifts. Gifts you'd think Elvis couldn't provide and yet there they were. You wondered just how he was getting these things to you but the thought didn't fill you with any sort of delight so you chose not to dwell. It all comes to a head when before your shift one night there was a new outfit on your doorstep. A simple red blouse with a black pinstripe skirt. That in and of itself wouldn't be a problem and yet the true issue was the note.
Took a guess on your size, lil Bunny. You can tell me if I'm right tonight after my show.
It is your size and you have idea how he could tell that let alone how he knew these were your favorite colors and that you favored pinstripes for your dresswear. If you dwell on it for too long some sense of fear and flattered feelings settle deep within your stomach.
The only reason you wear the outfit is because every other work appropriate outfit you have is currently in the wash. A fact that is true purely due to your own laziness and is something you want to curse yourself for. You consider actually going to the show, entirely aware that you could but you're loath to give him the satisfaction. Instead you wait until around the time the show ends to make your way to his room utilizing your ability to have extra keys of rooms to make your way inside. He's not there yet so you sit in a chair and wait in the dark. Dramatic, yes, but you figure it seemed fitting given the circumstances. Perhaps he might even respect the flourish of it, the flourish of you waiting for his own dramatic person in the dark as if he couldn't rip your throat out in an instant.
You almost doze off waiting for him but when he finally arrives he opens his door with a sigh, completely ignoring you before he walks slowly over to you, silent as a church mouse. He opens his mouth to say something as his teeth glitter in the light of the strip coming from the window but you cut him off.
"Is this all supposed to charm me?" A simple question but one that has him chuckling lowly as you try and get up only to be stopped by his hand on your shoulder.
"It working?" His eyes zero in on your skirt before he shrugs. "Fits you like a damn glove. Knew I guessed right."
"You guessed-" You try and take his hand off your shoulder before realizing it only makes him push down just that little bit harder. "I didn't ask for clothes or jewelry or- for you to even still be trying to talk to me. What do you even want from me? My blood?"
"If I wanted to suck ya dry of all your blood, I'd've done it already darlin'. Nah, that'd be a damn waste of a spitfire like ya." Elvis murmurs as his eyes trace your form. "Think we'll have more fun with you alive and me alive as I'll ever be. 'Less ya gonna tell me you've gotta death wish."
You scoff at him, your lips curling up into a sneer. "I didn't even know ya were honestly still alive, what makes ya think ya were a part of any death wish I might have?"
"The fact that your heart insists on goin' a mile a minute 'round me. Or when you shivered like ya did. Might not have realized I was 'round but now that ya do-" His tongue darts out to wet his lips. "Think ya'd enjoy dyin' with me drainin' the life from ya."
You shouldn't think the idea is enjoyable but you can't help the way your legs reflexively clench together. "Mr. Pres-"
"Elvis. Lil bunny, lil spitfire of a woman. You were waitin' f'me in the dark. Could've rushed in 'n torn out that pretty lil throat of yours 'fore I realized it was you. And wouldn't that've been a cryin' shame. Waste of a woman like ya."
It's flattering the way he calls you a spitfire and the way he leans close to you whispering it to you like a long lost lover. You reason your reaction stems from not being intimate with anyone for a while but truly perhaps it just is Elvis's natural charm. A shake of your head is all you manage to do before clearing your throat to speak. "Elvis. That- That was the point not- Ya needed to be caught off guard. Startled. And-"
The laugh he lets out is low and mocking. "Oh darlin' you wanted to surprise a vampire. You- God, you're somethin' else. Maybe- Stay here tonight. Don't got plans, know that."
The unfortunate truth of the matter that he's correct. You don't have plans but spending the night and staying there with him has you shaking your head once again. That is the exact opposite of anything you want to do. "No. Find- They'll send up another girl if ya ask them to or have- I don't know, I'm not staying here tonight."
His hand that's been on your shoulder moves to your neck and traces the lines of it gently as he leans forward and lets a nail act almost as if he's going to prepare it to be pierced by his teeth. "Not even if I have somethin' to tell ya. Somethin' interestin'?"
Your face perks up for a moment at the thought of just what he might want to tell you before you frown. "Not even- I want to go home Mr-"
"Elvis. Not. Mr. Presley. Not to ya." The words are growls in your ear and involuntarily your mouth opens up and lets out a soft whimper and whine. At the noise his hand moves to stroke your clavicle. "Just for tonight. Won't- Don't plan on doing what your body seems to want me t'do. Just wanna talk."
You use the fact that his hand isn't directly pushing you down to slip out of the chair. His eyes widen in shock before he moves to pull you into his arms. He doesn't bother to move fast, more preoccupied with seeing your reaction. You take a step or two back and he drops his arms to his side before motioning to the door. "'Nother night then, Y/N. 'Nother night." A beat. "I won't stop."
Whatever you want to say just comes out as a hiss of anger almost like you're a cat before you slink out the door. Once you're in the elevator you sink to the floor and try to steady your breathing, you try to tamp down on your arousal and try and ignore the part of your brain craving to find out just what he wanted to talk to you about.
That craving doesn't leave you and if you didn't know any better you'd think it was supernatural the way it worms its way into your mind and settles in popping up at the worst possible times. It only takes a week before you find yourself waiting for him in the dark again, wearing a pinstripe pair of pants and the red blouse he had given you. You don't mean to fall asleep waiting for him this time but you do, only to wake up when you feel the presence of something staring at you. By this point his show had been over for an hour and he's in a robe that looks- soft. "Rise n' shine, lil bunny."
You scramble a bit, shocked and mortified that you fell asleep before you look at Elvis who is just sitting casually as can be in a chair next to yours. Your eyes drift over him before you bite your lip. "I'm only here to- I want to know what ya were going to tell me last week. And I want ya to stop- I want to not have a bunch of gifts every day."
His shoulders move in a shrugging motion before he shakes his head. "I got no problem tellin' ya about it, but 'less you're gonna help, ya still gonna get the gifts."
"Why do ya- I don't want- That's not how you charm someone into helping ya." You cycle through words faster than you mean to, more confused than anything else at what he's saying. "What do ya even need my help for?"
It's a valid question, you figure, after all he's a vampire and you are still very much a human but he hums, waving off the question before moving his chair to face you and to essentially pin you into being stuck in your own chair. "It's how I figure you'll be charmed." He pauses. "Lil outta practice wit' th'other one. As for what I need ya help for-" He trails off and pulls off the mask obscuring part of his face to reveal a burn scar that is noticeable enough to have you gasping. "Need ya to help me avoid doin' this again. Don't feel like burnin' up like that on the other side. Let alone anywhere else."
Several moments pass before you finally find the words to articulate your question that aren't just straight confused noises. "Are ya asking me to help ya set fire to something?" He cannot be asking you to do that. You have to be dead and this is just a very vivid post death hallucination.
For his part Elvis nods slowly, looking you dead in the eye with the most laconic face as he answers you. "I'm askin' ya t'help me set fire to this place."
"The hotel?" Your tone shifts up about 2 octaves and you swear your voice just whistles instead of actually speak. "Where I work? Where you perform?"
That same laconic look doesn't leave Elvis's face. "The one I tried to set fire to in '81 only to burn half my face? That very one, lil bunny."
You can't help but laugh though it's not something normal and sensible that comes out of your mouth. No, it's a high pitched mildly terrified giggle that leaves your mouth. He's- He is asking you to commit arson with him. To help him set fire to a place he's performed at since the 1970s. That you work at. He cannot be serious. "You're- You're joking. I- I have Elvis Presley who is apparently a vampire stalking me so that I can help him set fire to a hotel because you fucked up the first time?"
The giggle is still there before his hand darts out and wraps around your throat, tightening just slightly. "Keep laughin' lil one. Keep laughin' and I'll rip that throat clean out. Won't even be recognizable."
His hand steals your breath away from you as you try to take a breath only to have him tighten it more. He- He won't kill you, you don't think, this is just to scare you, to make you want to do what he's asking for but your vision is starting to blur just a bit and you can't help the way your eyes are starting to roll back in your head before suddenly you can breathe. You cough a little violently as air rushes back into your lungs before you glare at him, pushing the chair back in order to stand up. "You keep threatening to kill me, ya sure ya want my help? I don't- I'm leaving. This is a joke. You're a joke just like ya were-"
In a rush Elvis has you pulled tightly to his chest, his arms snaking around you and tightening like a python. "Stopped being a joke the second this happened to me don't- Heard enough of that from all those goddamn tabloids and from the reports of my death."
You're going to die, this is how you're going to die. Not by starvation or homelessness or by some madman murdering you on the streets. No, you're going to die because a man who was a has been before he became a vampire and is even more of one now despite three more albums under his belt and another Grammy for that eighties gospel album. Still you have to fight him, he's not- if he wants your help he won't kill you. You're- he's obsessed with you, isn't he? Wants your help that bad?
"Elvis, I think you're just a lonely scared little boy in a man's- excuse me- vampire's body." You snarl, trying to wriggle out of his grasp, as if you have any chance of winning against a vampire with superhuman strength. As if you'd have any chance winning against him even if he was human. Elvis Presley never had been a small man and you had never been the strongest of women.
"And if I am? Ya gonna be my salvation? Gonna save me from this hell on Earth? This eternal damnation forced on me by a Dutch lyin' bastard?" He leans closer to you, his breath ghosting over your face, over your lips as he takes breaths he doesn't need to and as he watches your eyes have a fire in them that warms him from the inside out. "Gonna make me feel better about it, darlin'? Ya really think ya good enough t'do that? That I like ya 'nough for that t'work?"
"Ya haven't killed me yet." You spit at him, just narrowly avoiding actually spitting on him. "I'm still alive and ya seem pretty damn obsessed with getting me of all the people in this town to help ya. So, yes, I think ya like me just enough."
At your words Elvis's grip on you loosens and he steps back like you burned him for a moment before he practically hisses at you. "'m only obsessed 'cause ya seem like the only person who could do it." A beat and something flashes in his blue and red tinged eyes. "And ya- yer from home." Memphis is what he means but he doesn't think to clarify. He takes a step forward and grabs at your chin even as you let out a snarl of your own. "Ya hate this place as much as I do. And think ya'd like seein' it burn down 'round ya. Don't lie. Can tell if ya do."
A quick dart of your eyes to the side is all the answer you can give for a moment as you try to compose yourself. "Doesn't mean I wanna help ya. Doesn't mean I'm gonna help ya."
For the briefest of moments, Elvis looks human and looks like a little boy when he looks at you. He's- You recognize the look, it's almost practically begging. "Please. This place- it ain't good for anyone. Me, especially but can't tell me it's done a bit of good for anyone other than who owns it."
He's right, as much as you loathe to admit it and it shows in how you purse your lips. "I'm not- I ain't agreeing to this, but tell me just what your hairbrained plan is."
As it turns out, Elvis's plan takes until the break of dawn to explain and two orders of room service delivered by one man who goes back downstairs and a woman who- well, served as Elvis's food until she fell limp in arms. There was something enrapturing about watching the act, watching how her mouth contorted into one of pleasure as she came in his arms before you could slowly see the life drain from her until his mouth came off her neck with a pop and a squelch. When he looks at you his lips are covered in her blood and he can't help but give you a toothy grin. "Sounds like you're jealous of her and me. Can't risk killing ya but maybe- maybe soon lil one."
That morning you call in and dream of his lips against your neck and of the pleasure he'd give you because- he doesn't want to kill you. You'd just get all the joys of being fed from but none of the tragedy. If you avoid him that night, you blame it on your shift. He doesn't call you out on the lie.
Planning arson between two people, one of whom has a larger bank account but can't leave his residence and the other who has a smaller bank account but can roam as she pleases is harder than one would think. Yet you both persevere, meeting up every other night to gather the items needed. What's been tripping you up for ages has been the floor plans and it shows in how you've been getting snappier with Elvis each passing meeting. He gives back in spades, somehow being worse than he was your first and second meetings but tonight- tonight he seems a little melancholy and a melancholy Elvis is a very human Elvis and one you find- one you could see a future with perhaps. A twisted one but one that flutters into your brain on nights you can't sleep or nights you can sleep despite dreams of the two of you mouths red and snarling as you feed.
"At this point ya might as well kill me." Your accent has been returning with a vengeance the more time you spend with Elvis any acting classes you had to train it out of you falling by the wayside. "We ain't gonna find a proper floor plan and without that we can't-"
"Y/N." His tone is laced with a warning- don't test him, not tonight. "I got time- wanna get this done but 'nother week ain't gonna hurt."
"Says the man who hasn't fed from me and is gonna live forever." Your eyes are blazing when you look at him before you continue. "I wanna get this over with. Wanna have- Wanna see if you'll do somethin' if we get it done."
Elvis's eyes narrow looking at you for a moment before he rubs his hand over his mouth. "Oh. That's- Lil Bunny. That's the problem? Ya want me t'do somethin' to ya? Have my wicked way with ya?"
You can feel your heartbeat rushing in your ears before you can even articulate an answer. "That's not- Ya keep looking at me. Like- like I'm someone ya might wanna- No, I don't."
"Ya do." He moves to lean over your chair, putting your face at eye level with his chest. "Ya wanna know what it's like to be in my bed. Wanna know what it's like to please me."
You do, lord above you do. You're essentially committing a crime for him and for what? For the pleasure of knowing you've set fire to a horrible hotel? That you've freed him from this place? For nothing that gives you any satisfaction. "Is that so wrong? Ya won't kill me when there's a line of bodies I can probably trace back to your first year as a vampire. Ya won't feed from me because then where's your help for this silly scheme. Ya won't fuck me because-"
"Listen darlin, honey, satnin. I- I get a lil lonely up here. I know what ya gonna say- jus' leave but you've seen how it is." Seen how he can't leave the room for fear someone's going to actually realize that he's Elvis Presley and not some impersonator. Seen how people already mock the fact that he's still around- after all hadn't you? Seen how he looks out at the view of Vegas, almost wistful when he thinks you're not looking. "I haven't killed ya but- you're- ya remind me of how I was. Always been- the way I am but not not like this. Don't feel like ruinin' it is all."
His hand reaches out to touch your face and it's so gentle that you can't help but nuzzle into it and take a quick inhale of breath. "Elvis."
He hums, noting how your eyes shut and for the briefest of moments he remembers what it was like to have someone whisper his name like that. Like a prayer you're scared will float away and fail if you say it too loud. He's missed that, he's missed so much of what it was like to be human, to be able to live freely even if back in the day his freedom still had him confined. You just look so sweet nuzzling his palm, acting as if you're the love of his life, acting as if you belong there. Maybe that's why he had been cursed otherwise he doubts he would have made it to this decade or at least made it to this decade in a state you might have wanted him in. "Y/N?"
"Why are you being like this?" You whisper, still nuzzling at his palm. "You- From the stories I've heard you're- you've never been a completely good man. I haven't seen you be a good man."
Another hand, his free hand moves to cup the opposite side of your face and forces you to look up at him. His eyes always such a stormy blue with that ring of red since you came across him have taken on a lighter hue and it takes your breath away as you feel his thumbs stroke your cheek. "Haven't had a reason t'be one. Look where it got me, satnin. Haven't pushed ya away yet, maybe you're- maybe you're the thing to settle this violent angry head of mine. So pretty- so gentle when ya wanna be. Let me take care of ya, hm?"
His hand moves away from you and you chance it almost in a trance before you look at him and bite your lip. "Take care of me?" The subtext is clear as your heart starts to race and your legs clench together.
What was the harm in treating you tonight? Maybe it would give you the right incentive to find the floor plans, to look harder than you had been. Maybe that was the real trouble you were having. You were too distracted by your desire and want for him. His hand moves down to your chest, undoing the buttons of your blouse slowly. "Take care of ya. Jus' for tonight."
That night you find yourself gasping for air, screaming his name, arching your back and snarling all at once. You find that when you leave you play with the bite mark on your breast and shudder remembering his words said against your ear more than once. "Might make ya mine if ya do well enough."
It still takes another two weeks to get the floor plans, the proper up to date ones. Two weeks of finding yourself in Elvis's bed with him teasing you and making promises about his plans for you and him. But, as it turns out someone had been wanting to get a room at the hotel and well, you did work the front desk so you could handle getting them some accommodations for a fee of course. Elvis wastes no time in opening up the plans when you arrive that night with them in your hand, holding a bottle of champagne for you and the number of someone you had met on the bus for Elvis to enjoy his own drink. After she's on the floor and you're nursing your second flute of champagne you feel Elvis behind you wrapping his strong arms around your middle and pulling you close.
"Gonna turn ya when it's all ash. Won't be stuck here any longer, can do what I want again. Take ya all around the world." He whispers against the shell of your ear, nipping once he reaches your earlobe. "You're gonna look so fuckin' gourgous feedin'. Vicious as ya are. Ya did so good bringin' me dinner too. Wish I coulda shared her wit' ya. Soon, lil Bunny, soon."
There's an alarm in your head that goes off at those words, at the way he coos them while holding you. They feel off- fake somehow and you down that second glass the moment he lets go of you. Had- You knew very well he wasn't a nice man, you've known this from the second you first spoke but he- there's no way he has any intention of changing you. He might be obsessed with you but that's because you've been the only person who can handle herself well enough to do this, hadn't it? You were going to get him to the finish line of burning down the hotel only to what burn with it yourself? Take the fall for a dead man? You file away the thoughts in your head for a later moment, if you thought about them now Elvis would know.
You smile at him almost saccharine. "Ya mean it? I'll be your vicious lil vampire queen?"
He grabs your chin and pulls you in for a kiss not caring that he still has a trace of blood on his lips. "The second it's up in smoke. Promise."
Liar.
Las Vegas in August is disgusting, better than some places in the United States, but it's still hotter than Hades and feels nearly as suffocating despite the lack of humidity. A fact you keep pointing out to Elvis as you both hold small cans of gas.
"Should've killed ya like the res' of 'em. No one would've missed ya. Jus' another lil' girl in Vegas runnin' 'round thinkin' she could make it big." You see a flash of his teeth and you figure it's supposed to scare you but at this point you like to think you know better.
"If ya killed me who would be helpin' ya right now?" The way you speak is practically a sneer but you can't help it, not with how he just somewhat threatened to kill you. "Hurry up, people are going to start coming back and I don't-"
"It's 11PM and they're in Vegas the hell are they-" He starts before he starts to trot off to the area he's most familiar with- the stages. "Meet me by the damn elevator."
An eye roll is the only response he gets as he leaves you to your own thoughts as you pour the can of gasoline in a line between the already waiting containers of it. If all goes well the walls of fire you and Elvis hope to create will have the entire building up in smoke in no time at all. It makes it so you both have to be quick on each floor but you had taken precautions for this. You knew every way to get down the floors as quickly as you could and Elvis wouldn't leave you behind. After all, he kept talking about his lil' spitfire queen. Kept cooing the words at you in between planning and buying the gas and finding yourself spread across his sheets or above him.
And yet something felt different, you had that same feeling you did when he talked about how gorgeous you'd look feeding. It felt off. You try to shake the feeling away as you two reach the top of the building, his penthouse suite and cover it in extra gasoline. He wanted every bit of this room demolished, nothing salvageable but to do that you are currently feeling faintly high on the sheer amount of gasoline in the room and wondering just how no embers from the cigar he just lit have fallen yet. You almost miss the words he says when he looks over at you. "Ready to run?"
A shrug is your only answer before you try and take a deep breath. "Get in the elevator first, then toss it."
He obliges, letting you go first with a flourish that rather than delight you has your hackles raising. "Ladies first."
Elvis Presley used to be a gentleman. Elvis Presley is not a gentleman any more.
Right before the doors to the elevator close Elvis tosses his cigar between the door and as they shut you feel the rush of heat from the roaring blast it caused. This is the only floor you have to take the elevator for and it makes each consecutive floor easier. You both light a cigar and toss before running to the next floor, rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat even as Elvis pulls you in for a harsh kiss his eyes blazing in the fire he had started with his cigar, looking practically manic with delight. The fire brings out the red in his eyes. It scares you.
"Calm down, Lil' Bunny. Almost there." He shouts practically sing songing the words as you rush down yet another flight of stairs to the second floor. "One more floor and you're mine. We'll be free. I'll be free."
There it is again, that nagging feeling that you're a means to an end for him. You brush it off one final time as you start to cough, the floors of smoke and blaring alarms of a sprinkler system that hasn't produced any water getting to you. "Jus' want this done, 'Vis."
Finally you reach the final floor, the bottom floor which is the most complicated. There's an extra exit, a fire exit in the stage area so you both agree that's the last room, that's the last place to be set ablaze and Elvis finds it almost poetic when he thinks about it. He stares at the doors for a moment before he enters with you, as if he thinks he has all the time in the world. He might, he might be able to run out of there fast enough but the smoke is starting to get to you and the heat from the blaze above and around you is making the area around you sweltering. "You said you'd turn me, Elvis. Once we get outside, right?" You have to shout before you cough over the roar of the blaze and how somehow it's starting blow toward you as you shut the door to leave you and him in the lone area not on fire yet.
The cigar in his mouth is lit and he contemplates knocking off the tip, letting it start to catch everything ablaze before he stops himself and nods. "Course, gonna do it the second you get some air in ya."
Your own cigar- the last cigar is lit and you're about to toss it before you stare at him, stare at him because that tone- that tone betrays his actual plan. "Why not now? I can- I can barely breathe in here, Elvis."
Those words have him tossing his cigar and have a whoosh of fire come up behind him as he walks towards you. "You'll be fine, lil spitfire. Y/N. You don't- Patience. Don't wanna rush forever."
Your mind goes blank as you drop the cigar you were holding and have to jump out of the way as a bit of fire starts to separate you and Elvis. He glances at the fire and growls, realizing he's very quickly going to be boxed in before he wooshes to a spot next to you. "Tryin' to kill me? 'Cause I won't-"
A crash can be heard of a bit of wood falling onto the stage and you jump before you cut him off. "Because you're not plannin' on it. Ya gonna- You're plannin' on killin' me, aren't ya?"
"Eatin' ya, actually. It's what ya wanted back when ya first saw me eat. Wanted to be fucked then sucked. I fucked ya now-" His words are cut off with a slap that he allows you to do because it gives him the ability to grab at your wrist. "Loose end, lil one. Either you go down for this or ya die. Gave ya the more pleasurable option."
"While telling me you were going to change me!" You snarl half running toward the door even as you inhale another bit of smoke causing you to cough more. "You- You've been usin' me this whole damn time! I- you said you'd make me your little queen."
He's faster and he has you pinned up against a wall as he feels the flames starting to inch toward you both and as you keep swallowing more and more smoke. "Ya called me a damn has been and a joke. Darlin' ya don't wanna spend eternity wit' me, ya jus' wanna run around spending an eternity doing whatever the hell ya want to do. Ain't gonna give ya something you think is a gift."
"You- I'm- I can't breathe." You choke out as you try and take deep breaths only to realize that the room is filling with grey smoke. He's fine because he doesn't need to breathe but you- you need air.
"Shame I didn't change ya before. Didn't give ya what ya wanted to use me for. Don't care 'bout me. Lil Memphis spitfire don't care 'bout the thing everyone loves 'bout the place. No wonder your mama and daddy don't want ya to come back." His tone is mocking as he keeps you pinned to the wall, despite inching himself closer to the door. He was going to escape and you were going to die by smoke inhalation if the fire didn't kill you first.
A breath of air enters your lungs suddenly as you find that Elvis lets you go, a bit of the fire catching onto his pant leg right as he reaches the door with you. You seize the opportunity and hit at the door with your body, trying to force it open as he steps on the offending burning fabric. even as another crash can be heard on the stage and you see more and more paint chips fluttering around both of you, or maybe that's ash you've never seen a fire this big. The door finally flings open and more fresh air for your lungs and to feed the fire. Elvis whooshes over to you and attempts to block your way out but for once you have the upper hand, managing to be on the outside of the building while Elvis is still just barely in there. He realizes his mistake, realizes what you just very well might do to him in an instant.
"Lil Bunny- I'll- Don't be rash. I'll do it. I'll do what I said I would." He coos even as the fire rushes around him, his hair becoming more messed up the more he stands there. His face getting more ashes on it the longer he stands there.
"Liar. Liar." You tilt your head and move to push him inside. "Pants on fire."
His eyes look down thinking you're telling him his pants are literally on fire and you take that as your opportunity to shut the door, locking it in a way only you know how. Within a moment he starts to push at the door.
"Y/N!" He shouts through the door. "I'll do it, just let me outta here! I'm- Ya don't want this on your conscious! I wasn't gonna kill ya! Baby- Darlin- Lil Bunny, let me out!"
"Not gonna believe a lyin' dead man, Presley!" You shout, knowing that you sound insane before you start to move away because he's right you don't want that on your conscious. You hear him shouting promises you doubt he'll keep and feel the fresh bite he had made on your chest burn as you walk away but you're able to fake being a victim among the crowd, the ashes covering your face and the way you keep coughing as the building burns and as you swear you hear a series of Southern curses in the wind.
The bite scars over and aches from time to time.
They don't find his body. You try and not let it keep you up at night.
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hollandorks · 2 years
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shadows in the night
battinson!bruce wayne x f!reader
chapter fifteen
summary: more than a year after the events of middle of the night, y/n and Bruce are happily engaged and working to lower the amount of crime in Gotham. However, a new killer calling himself the Riddler has other plans for their happiness…set during the events of the movie, mostly canonical, some changes made to fit the story
a/n: so sorry this took extra long to get uploaded! I was really unhappy with my first draft of the chapter and took some extra time to work on it, then the day I planned to post I had to go to the dentist for a gum infection and ended up scheduling to have my wisdom teeth removed. Yikes. The good news is, I’ll be trying to write tons and finish this and at least have the rest of the story written before surgery in about a month! 
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word count: 3316
Y/n sank into a crouch, biting back a sob, as she watched the Gotham Project go up in flames.
Within a minute, Ollie was there, and then so was Bryn, and they held her and cried with her as all of their passion and hard work burned.
Y/n watched, numb, as months of hard work turned to ash. 
She was certain the fire had been set on purpose. She’d checked and rechecked everything before they’d opened, had every certification on the planet that deemed the building safe, and even then Bruce had hired someone else for a second opinion. 
There was no way it had burned down by accident, right? Maybe there had been lightning or something but–it was barely raining. 
The numbness spread through the rest of her as she watched the last of the flames disappear into plumes of smoke. 
“Shit,” Ollie said next to her, the first word any of them had spoken in a while. “This sucks.” 
“Yeah,” y/n said, voice rough from the combination of exhaustion and smoke. 
It had been so much work to get it started. Endless planning and paperwork and interviews. She had spent hours working every day as the space had been renovated. Hell, she’d even helped build things wherever the contractors would let her. She’d painted and sanded and hammered and hauled in furniture. She’d spent time doing interviews to get the word out, then interviewing potential staff. She’d spent hours figuring out how to order the things they needed and then ordering again when they inevitably ran out. She’d cooked and cleaned for weeks after they’d opened until she had enough employees.
It had been a passion project she hadn’t known she’d wanted. A project she hadn’t known she needed. Working on it had gotten her through a lot of the residual stress and trauma from almost dying the year before. How many nights had she woken from nightmares and gotten up to do paperwork so she wouldn’t wake Bruce? How many hours had she spent in the abandoned subway station working while he was out in the city? How many times did she go help people when she was feeling particularly small and insignificant? 
The work creating and then running the Gotham Project had given her a purpose when she’d had none. It was even what had started her going out into the city like Bruce did–because she could always be doing more for the city. 
And there it was, all of those hours, her literal blood, sweat, and tears–all just gone. 
Y/n’s phone started ringing sometime around when they finally got the fire put out. She wasn’t sure the smell of smoke would ever come out of her skin. The air was thick with it. 
“Shit,” she said when she saw the number. She wiped her eyes and glanced at Bryn and Ollie as they stared curiously at her. “It’s the hospital.” 
She stood from the curb where the three of them had been seated, and answered the call. 
“Hi, I’m so sorry for the late call. I’m calling on behalf of Mr. Pennyworth. He regained consciousness and was asking for Mr. Wayne, but we couldn’t get ahold of him. Your phone number was listed to call in case we couldn’t reach Mr. Wayne.” The woman’s voice was too perky for it being the middle of the night, y/n thought vaguely. 
Then her words sunk in. Alfred was awake. “No, yeah, thank you for calling. Thanks for letting me know. Can we–can we visit?” She hastily wiped at her eyes again. Finally, some good news. 
“Yes, of course. Visiting hours are technically over, but…since he’s only just now awake…” The woman’s voice softened. “I’m sure it will be fine.” 
Y/n thanked her again and hung up. 
Alfred was awake. 
She cursed again. There was still so much to do with the Gotham Project–or what was left of it. She’d had to fill out an incident report and was informed that, as soon as it was safe, the investigators had to go inside and see if they could find a cause. Then and only then would she be able to go inside and see what was left. 
“What is it?” Bryn asked softly. She pushed one hand on Ollie’s shoulder to help herself stand. Ollie grumbled and yanked on her arm in turn as he stood, too. 
“Alfred’s awake. I–I have to–” 
“Go,” Ollie said as he made a shooing motion with his hand. “We’ll take care of things here and call you if there’s anything else they need. And when they let us in I’ll document everything for you. Go be with your family.” 
“Yeah, we’ve got this,” Bryn said. She squeezed y/n’s hand. “Go.” 
Y/n went, calling Bruce as she did. She had no idea what he was doing, if he’d ever made it home from meeting Falcone. 
He answered almost immediately. “I got the voicemail from the hospital,” he said instead of a hello. “And your voicemail about the Gotham Project. Is everything okay?” 
“No,” she said truthfully. Her voice broke on the word. “It’s…gone. But–I’ll meet you at the hospital, okay?” 
“See you there,” Bruce murmured. He hung up without another word. 
At the hospital, she eagerly grabbed Bruce’s hand when she saw him at the reception desk. She had no idea how he’d beaten her there, but she didn’t care. Something within her settled slightly the moment she felt his fingers lace with hers. His hands were freezing. She wrapped both her hands around one of his for a moment to try and warm it. 
“Mr. Pennyworth is resting again,” the doctor informed them when they made it to Alfred’s room. “Feel free to go in and wait, though. His condition looks much more stable and I think surgery might not be necessary either. We’ll know more tomorrow.” 
Y/n let out a trembling breath, relieved. “That’s great news, thank you, doctor.” 
She and Bruce went and sat beside Alfred’s bed. 
“How’d the…visit with Falcone go?” she asked softly, afraid of waking Alfred up. 
Bruce shrugged. 
“That great, then?” she said, eyebrows raised. There was tension radiating off of him in waves. Her half-hearted joke didn’t seem to even register with him. 
“I…have to talk to Alfred about it first,” Bruce murmured. “I don’t…know what to think.” 
Y/n could see him pulling away from her as easily as if he were actually walking away. He was withdrawing into himself, shoulders curved, jaw tight. It was as if there was an ocean between them all of a sudden, the waters churning in a storm, uncrossable. She didn’t know how to reach him or how to make it better. She wasn’t sure she could make it better, not with the state of her own mind. 
“What happened at the Gotham Project?” Bruce asked after a moment. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of Alfred since the moment they’d stepped inside the room. 
“I’m not sure yet,” she said. She rubbed at her face. Her clothes smelled like smoke. Her body knew it hadn’t slept in much too long. Her muscles ached from the explosion and then sitting for so long on the curb outside the restaurant. She wanted to sleep. She wanted all of this to be over. “They’d just finished putting it out when I left. Then the investigators were going to go in and see what caused it. Bryn and Ollie stayed there, they said they’d call.” 
Finally, Bruce looked at her, but there was a flatness in his eyes that made her unbearably sad. “We’ll rebuild,” he swore softly. “As fast as the city lets us.” 
She gave him a watery smile. “I know,” she said. “But I just–it took so much work to get it started before…” 
She sighed and rubbed at her eyes again. She stood. “I’m going to go get some coffee. Want anything?” 
Bruce shook his head and looked back to Alfred. 
She gently squeezed his shoulder and set off in search of caffeine. 
When she came back, coffee cup clutched in her hands like a lifeline, she heard Bruce say, “You lied to me.” 
Something made her stop outside of the door and wait. This was a private moment between him and Alfred, and she didn’t need to be a part of it. 
But she also didn’t want to walk away. Bruce was drawing away from her, and she might not otherwise be able to hear about what happened with Falcone. She knew he would do his best to keep it to himself, to keep his pain to himself. He always did. Whether it was to protect her or to protect himself, she didn’t know. 
“My whole life,” Bruce continued, voice barely above a whisper. Y/n leaned against the doorframe just out of sight in order to hear better.  “I spoke to Carmine Falcone. He told me what he did for my father. About Salvatore Maroni.” 
Y/n closed her eyes. So the Riddler had been right. 
“He told you Salvatore Maroni…” Alfred started, voice uncertain. 
“Had my father killed,” Bruce said. Y/n had to bite her tongue to hold in the gasp. No wonder Bruce was so withdrawn. “Why didn’t you tell me all this? All these years I’ve spent fighting for him, believing that he was a good man.” Bruce’s voice shook with anger. 
“He was a good man,” Alfred said in a growl. “You listen to me. Your father was a good man. He made a mistake.” 
“A ‘mistake’?” Bruce scoffed. “He had a man killed. Why? To protect his family image? His political aspirations?” 
Y/n didn’t want to hear anymore of the pain in Bruce’s voice, but she couldn’t move away. 
“It wasn’t to protect the family image, and he didn’t have anyone killed. He was protecting your mother. He didn’t care about his image or the campaign, any of that. He cared about her, and you, and in a moment of weakness, he turned to Falcone. But he never thought Falcone would kill that man. Your father should have known that Falcone would do anything to finally have something on him that he could use. That’s who Falcone is. And that was your father’s mistake. But when Falcone told him what he’d done, your father was distraught. He told Falcone he was going to the police, that he would confess everything. And that night, your father and your mother were killed.” 
She fumbled for the seat in the hallway at Alfred’s words. It made a terrible sort of sense, didn’t it? When confronted by Bruce, Falcone blamed Maroni–who was already out of the way–and took the suspicion off of himself. 
“It was Falcone?” Bruce said softly after a beat. She ached to go in and comfort him, but this was between him and Alfred. She hadn’t known the Waynes, she hadn’t been around twenty years ago, so she shouldn’t insert herself into it. But she wished, more than anything, that she could take just a little bit of Bruce’s pain away. 
“Oh, I wish I knew for sure,” Alfred said, voice just as soft. “Or maybe it was some random thug on the street who needed money, got scared, and pulled the trigger too fast. If you don’t think I’ve spent every day searching for that answer–” Alfred stopped, the pain in his voice all too apparent. “It was my job to protect them. Do you understand? I know you always blamed yourself. You were only a boy, Bruce. I could see the fear in your eyes, but I didn’t know how to help. I could teach you how to fight, but I wasn’t equipped to take care of you. You needed a father. And all you had was me. I’m sorry.” The last two words were barely a whisper, almost lost in the noise of the hospital. 
Y/n wiped at the tears that were falling. Alfred and Bruce had both gone through so much. And they were still going through it. Was it better for them to have answers now, after all this time? Or was the Riddler simply stirring up shit that should have been left untouched? Because the pain she knew both of the men inside the room were feeling was too much, on top of everything else, for them to bear. 
And the Riddler had caused it. 
The Riddler, and probably Falcone. 
Y/n wished they were both dead. Hell, maybe they’d kill each other for some reason, and she and Bruce could be left out of it. It was wishful thinking, but it helped her feel better. 
“Don’t be sorry, Alfred,” Bruce was saying as y/n sipped on her coffee to ground herself from her anger and heartache. “God. I never thought I’d feel fear like that again. I thought I’d mastered all that. I mean, I’m not afraid to die.” Y/n couldn’t help the small gasp at the words, chest aching, even as Bruce continued, “I realize now there’s something I haven’t got past. This fear of ever going through any of that again. Of losing somebody I care about. Last year with the gala–” Bruce cleared his throat slightly. “And now, with all of this…” 
There was a rustle, like Alfred shifting. “I–is y/n alright? I never asked.” 
“She’s fine. She went to get a coffee. I…Alfred, I’m sorry.” Bruce’s voice broke, just slightly. 
“Don’t be sorry, I’m just glad you weren’t home. And I’m glad y/n is okay.” 
Bruce sighed, cleared his throat. “I know, but–I need to tell you something. I…when I saw it was you, my first thought was ‘thank God it wasn’t her.’ I–” 
Y/n had to wipe more tears away. 
“My dear boy,” Alfred said softly. “I’m glad it wasn’t her, too. Don’t feel guilty for having that thought. I’m getting to be an old man, and I would gladly die in her place. Or yours. You still have so much of your life ahead of you.” 
“Don’t say that,” Bruce snapped, but there was no real fire in it. “I don’t want to lose either of you, ever.” 
Y/n figured it was time to go inside. She stood, composing herself, and gently pushed open the door. 
“Alfred! You’re awake!” She didn’t have to feign her enthusiasm, even though she knew for a fact he’d been awake for the past several minutes. She paused at the foot of the bed, noticing that he and Bruce were clasping each other’s hands. She almost cried again at the sight. She set her coffee down on the tray to lean over and gently kiss Alfred’s cheek. “I knew your head was hard enough to survive an explosion,” she joked as she straightened, earning her a raspy chuckle. 
“Yes, well, it certainly feels like I’ve been blown up.” 
Y/n stood beside Bruce and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, squeezing gently. Maybe now they could go home and sleep some. Alfred was okay. He was awake. And he’d had a heart-to-heart with Bruce that had sounded much needed. 
“We should–” she said, but stopped when she saw Bruce and Alfred both looking towards the skylight in the room. 
Batman’s signal shone through the dark. 
Y/n’s phone started ringing. 
“Motherfucker,” she muttered, glaring up at the signal, then down at Bruce. “I’m going with you, and you aren’t arguing,” she said as she answered her phone. 
It was Bryn. “Y/n–” 
“Is everything okay?” she asked, because at this point she was assuming it was bad news. 
She wasn’t wrong. 
“They said it was most likely arson. And…” Bryn hesitated. There was a fierce, whispered conversation she couldn’t make out. Ollie, most likely. 
“What aren’t you telling me?” 
“They found something painted on the bricks on the back wall outside. The one thing that didn’t burn.” 
“Just tell her!” Ollie said in the background. 
Bryn sighed. “It said ‘rat’ in red paint.” 
Y/n blew out a breath. “Yeah, well, it was only a matter of time,” she said a bit bitterly. 
“Y/n…” Bryn said. “This is serious. Arson? Vandalism? You–” 
“Did you see the news earlier tonight? What the Riddler told everyone I did? It was only a matter of time. Send me pictures of everything, I’ll have to take care of stuff later.” 
“You can’t just–” Bryn started. 
Y/n interrupted, “I have to go. Thank you. You guys get some sleep, okay?” 
She hung up and found Bruce standing and watching her. Alfred’s eyebrows were raised underneath the bandages on his head. 
“Um. The Gotham Project was burned down earlier,” she said for Alfred’s benefit. She winced. 
“What?” 
“Bryn just called. The investigators said it was arson, and someone painted the word ‘rat’ on the bricks, too.” She sighed and rubbed her tired eyes. “Bruce, we should–” 
When she looked up again, his eyes were hard. He was angry. So was she. But there was nothing they could do about it at that moment. 
“Arson?” Alfred repeated as she and Bruce stared at each other. “They’re sure?” 
“I guess so. After the Riddler’s video…” 
“What video?” Alfred asked. 
“I forgot you’ve been unconscious for a while,” she said, but her joke fell on deaf ears. “The Riddler…outed me as the confidential informant in the case from last year. Within a few hours the Gotham Project burned down.” She shrugged even though there was a hard knot burning in the center of her chest. God, she just wanted to sleep. 
Alfred cursed impressively for a man with a head wound. “We should call–” 
“I have to go,” Bruce interrupted, voice almost a growl. “You two stay here.” 
“Nope,” y/n said, “I’m coming with you. I’m in this shit as much as you are now, if not more.” 
“Be careful,” Alfred said, interrupting whatever argument Bruce had been about to make. “I mean it.” It was his dad voice again. Y/n almost smiled. He really was feeling better if he was using it on them. 
“We’ll be back as soon as we can,” y/n said as she took Bruce’s hand and led him out. 
He waited until they were in the elevator to speak. “Arson?” He spat out the word. 
“The Riddler has a lot to answer for,” she said. “That’s just one thing on the list.” 
“I have to finish this,” Bruce said. He turned a tight circle in the small space, like he was full of too much pent up energy to stay still. 
“We have to finish this,” y/n said. She put a steadying hand on his arm. “And we will.” 
The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. When she went to step out, Bruce caught her wrist and tugged her close. Their chests brushed as they breathed in tandem. He leaned down and rested his forehead against hers. 
“What?” she asked softly as the elevator doors slid shut again. Bruce simply stared at her for a long moment. 
“I won’t let him take anything else from us,” Bruce said in a whisper. 
“I won’t either,” she said. 
He kissed her lightly, all of his pain and frustration and anger pouring into the kiss as surely as it was her own. 
“We shouldn’t keep Gordon waiting,” she murmured as he pulled away. “It’s cold as shit outside, he’s probably impatient.” 
Bruce took her hand. 
“I heard, um, your conversation with Alfred,” she told him as he led her to his car. They’d speed home, change, and swap cars as quickly as they could. “I’m sorry about–about your parents. About all of that.” 
She braced herself for Bruce to be angry at her eavesdropping, but he stayed silent as they pulled away from the hospital. 
“The Riddler has a lot to answer for,” Bruce finally said, “But so does Carmine Falcone. And I intend to collect on both accounts.” 
Y/n intended to collect from both of them, too. One way or another, they would pay for what they had done to Bruce, to Alfred, to her, and to the city. She was going to make sure of it.
Next Chapter
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Text
After thinking it through, Imma call the “Little Witch Academia x Epithet Erased” au:
Dumb Little Sparks
Here’s the premise I got so far:
⭐️💫✨
Ursula used to take on an infamous vigilante identity as “Shiny Chariot” across Sweet Jazz City. Her influence as a beacon of hope was insurmountable.
To everyone, she was an unstoppable beam of light that made the darkness flee away faster than the light itself. Stories would spread of large-scale criminals and bounty hunters gloating one minute and seeing lights & birds the next (the light part being literal). People knew from just the glow of her epithet that they were safe. Cops knew that they'd be better off trying to lick their elbows than to even attempt to fight her. She was the hero!
Though that didn't last forever
She wanted to do good and to help make the city a place where everyone can not just survive, but live. But no matter how much she did, she had her limits. The pressure to bring a smile to everyone's faces grew. There was only so much 1 star could do, no matter how powerful. As more people needed her, keeping up with it all grew more and more difficult. Sleep became a luxury she couldn't afford, eating food & drinking water was time she could be spending saving people! Time she could spend putting out fires!
She didn't realize she herself was ablaze
One day, she just…vanished; like a star burned out. Ursula threw the cape in the bin, killing the hero known as “Shiny Chariot”. She wasn't strong enough to carry the world. Her shoulders broke, and she couldn't clean the mess.
No one knew what happened to to her, or why she quit. At first, people some people thought she had died. Most had shut this down, not knowing that in a way, Shiny Chariot had died. Most clung to the belief that she would come back. She had too!
…Right?
As months and months went by, the truth became apparent:
She was gone.
But her impact stayed behind.
Some had hated her and relished in joy over the fact that she was gone. She was nothing but a no-good criminal and stupid idealist who ran away from the law; a clown amongst civil-minded people! Anyone who thought like her were just another clown waiting to join a circus. Others were inspired by her! Shiny chariot was someone who wanted to spread joy and do some good in the world! She was far more competent than the Sweet Jazz Police force, and thousands of people would be dead or worse without her help. People had good reason for believing in her. They still do now! Even if she’s gone, she lit a fire for so many!
One teen carried that passion much further than others:
Akko!
Akko, one of the people who looked up to her as a child, and still looks up to her now, had set her heart out to fill the empty hole that Shiny Chariot filled. She would infect everyone around her with smiles
With a smile, Akko told herself that she would be a vigilante! One with the name of “Superstar!”. Even when she was as young as six, her adoration of Shiny Chariot had inspired her to train.
Akko wasn't good at hiding something she was passionate about, and that only made school tougher for her. Kids would call her an idealistic idiot, teachers would call her “too much”, others would call her annoying, and more. Her wanting to be like “Shiny Chariot” only fueled the complaints from teachers, and the laughter of other kids
She didn't have any sparkely powers. She couldn't light up the sky bright enough to wake up every kid on the block. She couldn't shoot beams from her eyes. She couldn't carry everyone out of a burning building. She wasn't faster than a speeding bullet. Shiny Chariot was a super-duper hero!
And Akko was a Powerless Mundie.
Akko knew this as well. She was , in a literal sense, powerless. But that did nothing to deter her. It just meant that Akko had to work with what she got! She could roll with the punches, and bring joy to so many others like Shiny Chariot had once did!
After all If she couldn't even do that, then what was she worth?
⭐️💫✨
That’s about all I got premise wise. I literally just thought about Little Witch Academia, went “Little Witch Academia Epithet Erased go brRRrrR—”, and here we are—
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Keefe and Sophie sleeping in the same house (not the same room Idk how they got in the same house without Grady murdering them but whatevs) and Keefe wakes up from a nightmare bout Cassius
Keefe having a nightmare bout his dad/mom and Sophie comforting him
Grouping these two together because it's mostly the same thing! Hope y'all don't mind!
What doesn't kill you is gonna leave a scar.
Keefe had read that somewhere. Probably in one of the many boring books on his shelves, one of the better ones that he'd read a few times over, but that couldn't satisfy him anymore.
And it was a very true statement.
Lots of things had tried to kill him.
And everything had left scars.
From literal, physical deformities, long lines dragged over his arms, burns that had peeled away skin, things that Elwin couldn't fix, to mental scars. Things he could never run from, never look away from, because they were in his mind. Stuck there, haunting him, living inside of him, growing stronger with every moment.
They were his scars, and it was only when he looked hard that he could see them.
Or, you know, when his mind was finally allowed to rest, and the haunted broken nature of his collapsing mental health finally had its chance to dig its fingernails into the skin of his forehead.
That worked too.
At any rate, tonight was the night of such suffering, and as he lay on the bed in the guest room of the Ruewen's house, monsters made a nest inside of him.
It had been a lovely evening, in all honesty. There was safety at Havenfield, a kind of safety Keefe always wished there was.
But even safety itself cannot flee from the mind of a broken weapon.
He felt it coming, like you can feel the beginnings of an earthquake. The birds are silent and the dogs stop barking. That's how he felt, as he crawled into bed.
And sure enough, he fell asleep.
And the world tore itself apart.
He was ten, again. Or maybe he was still eighteen. Somewhere in there.
But he was smaller than he was, or maybe his father was bigger. His eyes were cold, barely there, looking at him like he was tiny, insignificant, unimportant, worthless.
Words were ricocheting around in his head, or maybe they echoed through the air, things like worthless, useless, why do you even exist, you shouldn't have been born, your mother was right, we should have gotten rid of you when we had the chance, I bet banishment would have made you a little more tolerable, at least we wouldn't have had to put up with you.
Keefe couldn't think, could only feel words that felt like big, rough hands, that felt like words shaking around in his head, that felt like glass cups hurled at walls, the glass cracking too close to his head, the shards scraping at his skin and his fingers aching as he picked up every piece.
Why can't you leave me alone?! He screamed, I never asked to be your son!
But you are, hissed the voice, that sounded like his mother pretending to be his father, where she stood over him in a Neverseen cloak, a knife in her hands and her eyes on fire, You will never stop being my son.
Keefe felt panic building in his chest, and he turned and ran, over buildings and under trees, around forests and his pulse was thick and bloody in his chest, stinging and humming like the buzz of a bumblebee. I'd rather be dead than be your son!
That can be arranged, Legacy.
And from the sky, shadows leapt down, streaking through his body like he was made of sand, like he was faded and broken and missing and the shadows dragged their teeth through him, his entire body screaming with the memory of pain--
Or was it real pain?
Was now the only now there was?
Was death the only way out?
Was this his last moment?
If it was, shouldn't he fight?
Shouldn't he try to stay alive?
Wasn't there something in his worthless life worth living for?
There had to be.
So, he screamed, loud, and the pain increased, and he wanted to forget himself, lose himself in a muddle of forgotten moments, forget this feeling, forget this day, forget every moment and every near death and every death he had ever lived and he pulled at the chains but the chains didn't move and his mother hissed in his ear, so close he could feel her hot breath through the endless shadow, The washer will be here soon.
And he bolted up, still screaming, his breath rasping in his chest like he couldn't feel the air pressing in on all sides of him.
His scream died in his throat.
He sat there, for a long moment, and swallowed.
He was alive.
The thought was alien, if a little disappointing.
His hands would not stop shaking. Phantom pain curled around him, like a blanket of black ice, and he wished he wasn't sweating.
There was a knock on his bedroom door. His body tensed.
He stood, and quietly walked over to it, expecting some monster to stand behind it.
He tried to steady his breathing for a moment, focusing on the memory that this was Havenfield, and that he was at least slightly safer here.
He opened the bedroom door.
There stood Sophie.
She looked up at him, her eyes with dark circles under them, her face pale in the soft night lights in the patterns of real stars above the hallway.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
He nodded, forcing a smile to his lips that he knew didn't reach his eyes.
"I heard you scream," she said, her voice gentle.
He swallowed, embarrassment clawing up his throat like bile. "I'm sorry. I won't let it happen again."
Sophie's face went sad. "I don't care about that," she said, softly. "I care about you. I wasn't asleep anyway."
He sighed, heavily, and then shrugged. "You wanna come in?"
She shrugged back. "If you'd like."
He nodded, a little, and she smiled at him. She sat on his bed. He sat next to her.
The heavy silence crept around them. His skin prickled with pain, and he hissed, wanting to scratch it all off.
"What was your dream about?"
Keefe snorted. "What do you think?"
Sophie kept looking at him. "We've lived through so much shit that it could have been anything. What was it, this time?"
Keefe swallowed, heavily. "My parents," he said.
Without another word, Sophie wrapped her arm around him, despite how sweaty he knew he was, and leaned her head against his shoulder.
A soft sort of feeling rushed over him, empty of color but full of heat, gentle and present.
He exhaled, softly.
She stayed there, hugging him.
"I said I'd rather die than be her son," his voice got a little clogged. "I meant it."
Sophie said nothing, but held onto him a bit tighter.
"She told me that it could be arranged. In my dad's voice. But it was her. And my dad's voice was in there too. He's louder. He yells. My mom doesn't yell. Dad gets all pushy, too. Mom just gets..." His breathing shook and chipped and cracked, and it took him a second to finish, "painful."
Sophie leaned her lips against his shoulder, and pressed a kiss there. The feeling filled some deep part of him, feeling like love and respect all at once.
"I wish I could forget it," he said, finally. "I thought that, at the end, and..."
He trailed off into silence.
Sophie let the silence hum for a moment, before asking, "And?"
"She said, right in my ear, "The washer will be here soon," he hissed, wincing. "Hell, if that doesn't open a jar of badness."
"You have a lot of memories that go with that."
"Too many. I think it must have been the marker for her to have them erase stuff. Because it's got so much shit attached to it." He winced. "I ever tell you she used to inject me with things? All the time. I didn't remember it. Stumbled across that a few years ago."
Sophie shook her head, gently, and leaned against him, trying to hold him together.
"She had the only time my dad hit me hard enough to leave a bruise erased too. I didn't remember that until last month. She was covering his tracks."
Sophie winced.
Keefe nodded. "Violent people do violent things," he said, quietly. "I just wish I wasn't related to violent people."
"You're not a violent person, though," Sophie said, softly.
Keefe shrugged. "I've wanted to hit my dad back, just as hard as he hit me, for a whole month."
"I think that's warranted," she answered. "It was only one time, right?"
"As far as I can remember," he half-growled, "And we all know how much my brain is a slice of swiss cheese."
Sophie giggled, just a little, and something inside of Keefe relaxed.
"Are you gonna sleep anymore, tonight?" she asked.
"If I take some knock-out drugs, sure. Otherwise, snowball's chance in Fintan's living room."
Sophie looked at him, for a moment. "You should talk to Elwin about those drugs, Keefe. You never look alright when you wake up after taking them."
Keefe hummed, but stood. "Wanna go sit in the living room and drink coffee?"
"It's three in the morning," she answered.
"That wasn't a no."
She stood up, with him, and held out her arm. "You're absolutely right. It was a yes. Let's go."
And that's how they wound up drinking cups of coffee in the living room, on Edaline's overstuffed couch, while watching Ten Things I Hate About You on the contraband television on an even more contraband DVD, alive and awake, at three in the morning.
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incarnateirony · 1 year
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Will has said multiple times that he didn’t pay $5000 for that script like Kelios did. ScriptHunt got the same deal you and your server did for the digital copy. That’s partly why Kelios got so mad and was able to get her money back.
Incorrect. Kelios openly raged that 2po tricked her into it. wigglebox was not working with 2po at that time. Wigglebox was the one with the 400 dollar deal. I know the group.
If Wigglebox was secretly also working with 2po then, she was lying to multiple groups, AND 2po was actively lying to her *and* Kelios, so that makes a nice clusterfuck.
I don't care what they claim now to cover their own ass. "Scripthunt" claims that because Wigglebox did the 400 dollar stunt. She tried to back us fucking down from it. 2po onboarded to the stunt after we already alerted having distribution on standby, because Wigglebox tried to back us off of it for a second physical copy.
So, fucking no, they're all liars. Kelios lost her SHIT about 2po lying to her and telling them to get it, because SHE thought *I* was working with 2po to trick them into it because The Hellers Got It Already. But no, he was going to try to use Kelios for the physical script, and used their fundraising. And Wigglebox was trying to chase down a second copy that didn't exist for 400. And she had her posse come at my fucking server and try to back us off the digital deal.
Literally. WE, not scripthunt, released the digitals, OUR SERVER bartered the deal. ANDROMEDA (rebranded to Scripthunt) fought us because they thought they found a second copy for 400 and said not to chase the digital. We wouldn't back down. 2pO got Kelios and the wincels autobidding. Once we secured the 25 digital deal, we giggled and price spiked them. Kelios thought 2pO did it to them on purpose and that it was a great heller plan and we had the 25 deal the whole time.
So. no.
Any people that got banned after the fact and ran salty there saying "we got it too" forgot the * of "before we got banned from Min's server."
Like, fun fact, scripthunt server was Wigglebox's then, and called Andromeda, which is where they got kicked to after being banned for triangulating jensens colorado on trees after pretending to be investors buying properties didn't work; over what was supposed to be a misha filming hunt, and 2po they at least PRETENDED was a separate unit, because he was busy fucking over Kelios. Then the final wave that became scripthunt is, when the arrogant kids in my server building a dev pitch got big heads and started harassing general users, I told them to stop, and they said it was their right, and tried to hijack server permissions to delete shit in revenge, and got banned, and ran over there, and are salty as fuck about how everything is unfolding.
Great squad over there, 10/10
even their fundraising model is a ripoff of polol's old ones. I'm kinda boggled they haven't hit 2K yet with that many good scripts up for raffle and that few entrants. The Whitewalker campaign got like 4K in a few days without offering anything but social justice. We just stopped doing those after 2po and his cronies in scripthunt battered us down under attack dogs. I guess they wanted the spotlight. Because they see it as spotlights, and not actual acts of social good, which is why I had to yell for MONTHS about the tens of thousands 2po had grifted out of fandom before they did a charity.
So idk, maybe people are noticing. unfortunate that the one time that group chooses to give back to society after being held to the fire about their tens in thousands of monetary gain from fandom in scripts... that it might be trevor project that feels it. So like. I'd still say support that. Let them do one good thing as they burn out.
but that's why 2po's had a childlike attack fixation on my server for several years. The server bullies got thrown out, the jensen stalkers got thrown out, and among them were several pitch devs even. But that last detail aside, he's literally just shrieking on behalf of the fandom stalker psychos wanting a gold of their own and telling people to not go to the other treehouse they aren't allowed in.
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crowcryptid · 7 months
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spoilers for ac6 below :3
I just finished new game + and it’s obvious that they intended for you to do the fires route first and then do the liberator route.
Cause the new content is almost entirely about helping the RLF.
I did it backwards so it’s like. “Im helping! I’m being helpful! Ok now that I’ve given them false hope time to burn them to a crisp lol get trolled”
Don’t talk to me about Rusty that’s Not Real trust me in both endings he just um.. he just runs away it’s fine. :]
Ayres fight is SUCH bs oh my god. It just sucks to see the enemy dodge the second you press anything. I thought the chapter 4 boss was bad with the input reading, but she’s even worse. It only took me 3 tries but I got so close on the first 2 tries and died cause I couldn’t land ANYTHING once she got to like 10% health. Any other boss would have died but she perfect dodged literally everything and I died 5 seconds later. Even my assault armor didn’t do anything cause she would dodge out of it every single time.
I didn’t feel like spending an hour or two on it so I switched to zims. She just dodges like 90% of your attacks once she starts flying around. The shotgun spread is pretty much the only reason I was able to hit her with them. Didn’t even bother trying to melee her, I just used the 10 count missiles launchers and hoped for the best. But nothing survives the dual zim. Nothing.
I somehow managed to pick the harder missions every time in my first run. This one was so much easier. I did die once to the chap 4 boss though. Fuck that thing. Fuck those wheels too. I grabbed every log and part so I had to deal with them. They actually managed to kill me so I had to do that twice.
I can’t believe how much easier Walter is as a final boss. I definitely didn’t get to hear all his dialogue. It’s actually kind of sad that he’s so weak.
I guess to make up for the weak final boss you’ve got Chatty/Carla and Snail. I thought they were VERY annoying, but my first playthrough build was a slow quad leg so I could never dodge anything and that’s probably why I found those fights so annoying. Key word here is annoying, not so much input reading bs. Just spammy heavy hitting attacks + my slow giant mech meant I was getting melted.
The stuff they throw at you in the fires route is nothin. Didn’t even use 2 repair kits on those levels. But then it’s made up for by.. an annoying boss. So take your pick.
Liberator > Fires for me.
I still think the hardest thing in the game (so far) was Michigan. Mainly because of ammo. That’s the only mission I ever ran out of all ammo on, during multiple attempts. Finishing by punching while being so low on health was stressful. That’s also when I learned that punching has a cooldown meter?? Why?
All throughout new game + I used Walters armor with some high accuracy arms so I was a lot faster than my first run. Switched between machine guns, various pistols, and various rifles, except for the end where I said fuck it we Zimming. I mainly used the medium weight and heavy weight plain old lock on missiles and various melee weapons for my back slots. Everything else just seems too inconsistent, and multi lock deals with all the fodder to save ammo. I really wish the guns in this had more ammo. The pistols really need more shots. I think the energy pistols and needle guns ended up being my favorite, somehow. Also I really liked the basically lightsaber weapon u get but it was not useful for most bosses so I didn’t use it as much as I wanted to.
New game ++ begins now. I didn’t have this one spoiled for me so yay
Idk if I will have the strength to S rank every level. Some levels seem very tedious. Idk how tight the time limits are though. That’s what worries me. I’m bad at going fast against bosses.
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avocado-frog · 1 year
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hey i wanna talk about the halloween thing i wrote that one time
cw for child death + accidental suicide. all just briefly mentioned/not described in detail but it is still there
Ok so back in October I wanted to write this thing for halloween just for myself so I did and I haven't finished it but it's been on my mind like all day and so anyways, I wanna talk about it
basically the premise is everyone dies except for kai and marcy (who i sort of forgot about whoops) and that is All I Have because I haven't gotten past that part
Lily- December 16, 1916- August 15, 1931. (15) Bike wreck. Went too fast downhill, lost control, got tossed off, hit head on a curb
Logan- January 13, 1910- January 11, 1932. (22) Hypothermia. Window let a draft in during the winter, got trapped in the attic
Leo- October 23, 1961- July 4, 1977. (16) Burned. Poured gasoline into a fire, accidentally got it on her arm, caught fire, panicked, caught more on fire
Cass- October 23, 1961- December 3, 1977. (17) Accidental poisoning. Glasses dropped into the sink, accidentally used rat poison
Dylan- March 15, 1969- November 11, 1980. (11) Shot. Wandered in an alley at night, caught in a shooting
Ryan- April 11, 1972- June 1, 1982. Drowned. (10) Tripped and fell off a boat while no one was watching
Sam- April 11, 1972- June 8, 1982. (10) Hit by a car. Blindly ran into the road
Elliot- April 11, 1972- July 15, 1982. (10) Unknown
Jaxon- October 17, 1971- September 19, 1985. (14) Head wound. bonked by a telephone pole, electrocution
Most of the deaths have to do with their magic in canon (Leo literally burns to death, Logan gets hypothermia, Ryan drowns, etc etc) unless I genuinely couldn't figure out how to incorporate it. Lily's is vaguely related in she has rock magic tm in canon and in this she smacks her head on the sidewalk. Dylan's is just a version of the way they definitely could've died in canon (writing the scene as we speak) while Cass and Sam just get some random ones. Elliot's is the 'mystery' one, but it's fairly easy to figure it out. I just liked the idea of one of the kids being literally completely unidentified and not found. man just locked himself in the attic on accident looking for something lmao
Anyways, then we have Kai and Marcy, who are alive because they aren't magic in canon and I needed a couple of them to Not Die. Marcy is just a friend in this, not related for plot purposes.
So all of the kids died in or around the same building, so they're all haunting the place, and Kai can see them because he's supposed to die but he keeps repeatedly not dying in increasingly impossible scenarios
Here are some little headcanons and stuff Kai uses Leo for math homework. She has been dead since the seventies. She doesn't have the heart to tell him that she's awful at math
and most of these kids have no idea what a microwave is
and in canon Dylan's special interest is spooky ghost shit so they're having the time of their life right now. absolutely thriving
-The kids all using super outdated slang and Kai nearly having a heart attack
-Leo KNOWS what the Kids Say Nowadays but she says shit like "the bees knees" to fuck with him
-Alternatively Sam says "radical" "groovy" "gnarly" unironically, has no idea what anybody says anymore, Leo encourages him
-And also Leo is so angry about being a ghost because That Is Not Scientifically Possible and Kai's like "u died in 1977 u JUST got computers slow down buddy"
-The kids all go to school with him one day and he's trying to focus but they're all talking shit about his teachers and asking questions about his school stuff and giving him the wrong answers on quizzes and overall just being terrible
-They cause problems on purpose
-They're all trying to stop Kai from dying but he's just super oblivious and keeps accidentally avoiding it
Kai: Oh look a dime!! *moves slightly to the left* Kai: *narrowly avoids a fallen air conditioner* Kai: oh shit could've died Jaxon, who is currently The Babysitter: Oh god oh shit he's gonna die on my watch lily is going to kill me forever what the fuck-
the kids eventually believe that he is immortal. Leo of course would like to test this theory and the others have to stop her from stabbing him
Kai: *google search* my house is haunted by nine ghosts who don't leave me alone and never shut the fuck up what should i do -Kai also spends a while managing to get Elliot found
-Turns out he is a skeleton
-Kai keeps finding skeletons
Kai, in the attic: That's a dead person!!! Elliot, owner of said skeleton: no fucking shit??? There's a dead person here?? when did that happen?
Kai, days later, swimming: there's another skeleton in the lake what the fuck Ryan on the docks: oh my bad sorry for drowning. i guess i'll learn to swim next time.
-The twins are really salty because their deaths were literally so preventable and stupid
-Jaxon would technically only be a year older than the triplets because the timelines are a little wonky + he lived three years longer than they did
-Kai becoming increasingly concerned over the rest of the kids: Leo: accidentally set myself on fire Cass: dropped my glasses in the sink and accidentally ate poison Jaxon: I got hit with a telephone pole lmao Kai, distressed: it is not a competition??? stop???
-Logan died two days before his birthday so he calls himself 23 but he isn't
-Absolute Dumbass Jaxon + Completely Oblivious Kai
-Tired of This Shit Lily + Scares People for Fun Leo
-Throws Rocks at People Dylan + Throws Rocks at People Elliot
-Also autistic Leo autistic Dylan autistic Elliot autistic Ryan
-ADHD Jaxon and ADHD Sam and ADHD Lily
-Dyslexic Cass (she was dyslexic in every draft except the most recent because it was only ever mentioned one time and i completely forgot)
-Logan is the token neurotypical of the ghosts
-The kids are all just fascinated with modern technology
-Kai sometimes just leaves scooby doo on for Dylan and Sam because they like it
-Kai also frantically watching every ghost hunter show *finds out that jax + lily are dead for the first time* *immediately turns on Buzzfeed Unsolved*
-But mostly scooby doo
-The kids making death jokes
-oh one final thing is that this is a no magic version so none of the backstories related to magic apply
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newsiesarchive · 2 years
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FF.Net Back Up: Finding the One by Mystic83
Originally Posted Feb. 11, 2000
Sun Keller has settled down in Greenwich village. She figures life is perfect. Until her best friend proposes and changes it all
Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Romance - Words: 18,193 - Reviews: 8 - Published: Feb 11, 2000 - id: 11277
Finding The One
Sun Keller looked around the Greenwich Newsgirls Lodging House and sighed with content. A few months earlier, she would have never thought she would ever find herself settled down and living so happily.
For the last ten years, Sun had wandered around New York. She was a newsie everywhere imaginable. Manhattan. Brooklyn. Harlem. Queens. The Bronx. Even the small cities in upstate New York. Granted, she was never very vocal. In fact, Jack Kelly or Spot Conlon didn't even know she existed, let alone that she was one of the girl newsies in their territory.
All that was because she never lived in a lodging house. She had always slept on the streets or found a boarding house. She wasn't really sure at first that this was the right place for her. In the beginning, all she could think of was her loss.
When she was little, she had lived in London, England with her family. A sister, a brother, a mother, and a father. She had it all. But that was quickly taken away from her. One day, her brother was curious as to why their lantern burned like it did. In his attempts to play with the mysterious flame, he knocked the lantern over.
The next thing anyone knew the whole building was on fire. Mr. Keller grabbed Illyana, a name Sun hadn't been called since that night. He placed her outside and ran back in to get the rest of the family. Sun watched in desperation as people ran out of the building. None of them were her family members, though.
She never gave up hope. She stood outside staring up at the blazes until the building had completely burnt down. In fact, she probably would have stood outside for hours after that if a fire fighter hadn't seen her.
She was taken to the police station and they decided putting her in an orphanage was the only logical thing to do. That night, she ran away and hoped a random boat. The boat took her to America.
Forget-Me-Not kicked the bunk above her and knocked Sun out of her thoughts.
"What are you thinking about up there?" she called. "I haven't heard you move in twenty minutes!"
"Oh I was just remembering things from before I found this place," Sun replied.
"If I remember correctly, Redd dragged you here. You were not willing."
Sun smiled at the thought of her best friend. Redd Capulet. He was Greenwich newsboy. As long as Sun could remember, they were best friends. He had been the first person she had bumped into, literally, when she got off the boat. They got to talking and Redd took her back to Greenwich. There she was shown the ropes of being a newsie.
Redd had always known that Sun was too wild to settle down in one place. He calmly watched as she bounced from one place to another. She always wrote him or stopped by Greenwich to tell him where she was currently living and what she was up to.
Finally, in 1901, Redd convinced her to settle down with him in Greenwich.
"You've stirred up plenty of trouble in this state," he had told her. "Why don't you settle down in the girls lodging house here in Greenwich? They've got a really nice lady who runs the place. And the girls there are fantastic. They'll welcome you in a heartbeat."
So, on May 12, Sun carried her bag of possessions to the lodging house door and made the most important decision of her life.
"You were thinking about him, weren't you?" Forget-Me-Not's voice cut into Sun's thoughts again.
"He's my best friend. I'm always thinking about him. You know I worry," Sun whispered the last line. Few people knew just how much she depended on Redd.
"Yeah, yeah," Forget-Me-Not said as she rolled over to try to sleep.
Sun smiled. Forget-Me-Not was always trying to carry a conversation with Sun but was prone to giving it up after a few minutes. Sun had a tendency to drift off into long periods of thinking.
The next morning, Sun stood outside the boys lodging house. Every morning, she waited there for Redd. Together, they'd walk to the Distribution Center and get their papers. Both the newsgirls and newsboys knew that everyday the two best friends would sell together.
"So, how's the writing going?" Redd asked as he came out of the lodging house. He usually got up a few minutes earlier than everyone just so Sun wasn't forced to find him every morning in a stampede of newsboys.
"Not too well," Sun said as she started walking down the street. She started kicking at stones, not realizing how guilty that made her look.
"What aren't you telling me?" Redd demanded, freezing in place. "You know you can't lie to me."
"I wrote another ten pages last night in my book about the Count and Dutchess Alexandra," Sun admitted. "I didn't want you to know I had continued to write that book."
"Now, 'Yana..." Redd started.
"Why do you call me that?" Sun snapped. "I thought I told you how much it affects me to hear my real name."
"I call you that because I'm your best friend and it's high time you learned to accept where you are. I'm sorry if this is going to sound cold. But your family is gone. They're not coming back. Me and the newsgirls, we're your family now. And if we're family, by god, I'm going to refer to you by your real name."
Sun just stared at him with her mouth hanging wide open.
"That and I like to see the look you give me when I say it."
Sun softened up when he admitted that he called her by her real name partially to get a rise out of her.
"See you're cheering up already," Redd said as he gently touched her cheek. "You know I've never called you Illyana. You expressed to me right off that only your father was allowed to call you that. To me, you're just 'Yana."
"I know," Sun admitted. "I was just embarassed to have to admit that I'm still writing... what did you call it? Oh yes! Fluff."
"That's what it is. You're writing stories about things that you know nothing about. I mean, have you ever even spoken to a royal?"
Sun shook her head. Redd smiled, realizing she was given up. But he wasn't so ready to stop.
"Then, how can you write about them? How do you know what they do in their free time? How do you know they're not all corrupt like us newsies improve them to be?"
"Stop it!" Sun screamed, letting her temper flail. She stood there for a few seconds trying to breath deeply and call herself. "Just stop it, please, Redd. Before you say something that we'll both regret."
"I'm sorry," Redd apologized. "I went too far that time. Let's stop arguing and get our papers while there still is some."
Sun nodded and started to walk silently down the street. Redd sighed and ran after her.
The rest of the day went by in a blur. Both of the newsies were too busy selling their papes to wonder if the other one was still mad. Though neither could resist stealing glances at the other in hopes that their body language would give them an answer.
As it neared lunchtime, Sun ran out of papers. Normally, she would stick around for Redd to finish up. Everyday, Sun would finish before Redd. It was partially because she was a girl and many guys found her visually pleasing. The other half was she really got into selling and became what every newsie tried to be. Pathetic looking.
This day was different than the others. This day, Sun just couldn't seem to control her temper like she usually did. She couldn't find it in her heart to pretend like the incident that morning had never happened. Redd was always pushing their arguments a step too far. But usually she forgave him within minutes.
But this time was different. This time, she could feel that there was another reason why he was fighting with her. There was something he was hiding, too.
Luckily, while Sun was lost in her thought, Redd finished up, leaving Sun no chance to decide to go eat lunch without him. The two wordlessly made their way to a local street vendor by a small park they had found one day while wondering. It was what they did for lunch everyday no matter what.
They bought pretzels and sat down on their bench. Usually, the two talked nonstop about the passerbys. There were many strange people who cut through this little park. But today, they both sat there and ate their food.
When they were done, they still sat without speaking. After a few minutes of silence, Redd couldn't take it anymore.
"What can I do to get you to forgive me?" he asked Sun. His eyes were pleading with her to say something back.
All she did was look at him. That's when he noticed her eyes. They were a mix of a medium green and a light violet.
"Okay. So you're a little upset," he said referring to the green in her eyes. "But I don't understand why you're confused."
Sun looked up at him with a little shock on her face. "I hate my eyes," she said kind of absentmindedly. "Why do they have to show everyone what mood I'm in? For once, I'd like to have someone not know I'm upset!"
"It's okay," Redd said. "All I wanted to know was why you were confused. If your eyes didn't tell me so easily, I would have figured out by the way you've been acting"
"Fine. You win." Sun sighed in defeat. "I'm confused because I realized that you're hiding something from me. I can't understand why you'd do that. In all the years I've known you, you never once had something you didn't wish to tell me. So, why the big change now? What has happened that made you think that there was something that I couldn't possibly understand?"
Redd mumbled something then looked away.
"I'm sorry," Sun said. "I couldn't hear you. Could you say that again?"
"Fine," Redd yelled. "You want to know so bad what happened between us. I'll tell you. I fell in love with you. There! Are you happy now?"
Sun held her hand, which had begun to tremble, up to her mouth in an attempt to keep her from speaking. It didn't work all that well because after a few minutes she started to say the words she knew would break his heart.
"Redd. We're best friends. We've always been best friends. We're always going to be best friends. Nothing more. I don't see you in the same light that you see me. You're just Redd."
Sun expected him to protest, to scream and yell at her for doing this to him. The Redd she knew would have told her that it didn't matter what she thought because they belonged together. But the Redd she knew had died when she said the words "Nothing more."
This new Redd just stood up, gave a pathetic little goodbye wave, and walked away from the park bench. Sun called out his name but he didn't turn around. He just kept walking until he was out of sight.
"What have I done?" Sun whispered as she put her head in her hands. She began to fill the tears start flowing.
"What's the matter?" Star Light asked. She had seen Sun looking rather sad and walked over to see what exactly the problem was.
"Nothing, Light. Except my whole life's ruined." Sun broked down in another fit of tears.
"What happened, honey?" Light said as she sat down next to Sun.
"Redd. You remember him? Kinda tall, red hair?" Light nodded to tell Sun she did. "Well, he told me he's in love with me. We've been best friends for ten years now and all of the sudden that's not good enough for him. We have to be more."
"Oooo. You do have a problem. Did you let him down gently?" Light asked.
"Not in the least. When he told me that, all I knew was that I had to set him straight. I had to let him know why that could never happen as soon as possible. I just let the words come out."
"That harsh?" Light asked.
"That harsh. I... I don't know what to do. I mean, if you guys weren't here, I'd be out of Greenwich so fast. Redd was my only anchor for the longest time. He kept me from leaving New York."
"He really meant a lot to you didn't he?"
"Yes, he did," Sun said. Her mind was starting to drift off to memories of the times when she and Redd were together. They always got into mischief when they were in the same place.
"I suggest you go find him," Light said. "Patch things up while there's still time. If you two are as connected as you've been saying, he'll do anything not to lose you completely from his life. He'll forgive you and try to get over his feelings. Trust me."
Sun smiled at her knowing friend. She should have guessed Light would come up with a solution to her problem.
"Thanks, Light," Sun called as she ran off down the street. "I'll tell you tonight how it went."
Sun ran all the way to the guys lodging house. She waved at Doc and ran upstairs. Doctor Stephen Giovanni had been running The Greenwich Newsboys Lodging House for years. He had gotten used to Sun just bursting through the door. She came there pratically everyday to see Redd.
Redd was sitting on his bed, obviously mopeing. Sun walked over to him and put her hand on his shoulder.
"Hey," she whispered.
"Hi. What did you come here for?" he asked her.
"I came here because we need to talk." Sun sat down on the bed next to Redd. "I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier. You trusted me with something you've been hiding for a long time. And I just... I didn't mean to be so cruel. You know my mouth. I open it and the wrong things come out. I'm sorry."
"It's all right. I just had a dream, you know. Of the moment when I got the courage to tell you. The reality was nothing like I had hoped."
"I was really upset after you left without saying a word to me. I guess I deserved it, huh?" Sun said, nudging Redd gently. A small smile spread across his face. "We'll get through this. You and me are inseperable. Nothing can break up our friendship."
"You're right," Redd admitted. "We'll get through this. I just need time, you know? Maybe..." Redd's voice faltered for a second. "Maybe it's not so smart for us to be selling together everyday. I think we need a little time apart."
Even though it killed her to say it, Sun agreed. She was willing to do whatever Redd said to repair their relationship. Smiling, Sun stood up again.
"I'm going to leave you to your thoughts. There's something I realized I need to do. I'll talk to you tomorrow morning. We can still walk to the Center together even if we're not selling partners, right?"
"Always," Redd whispered. "Always."
Sun started walking and soon found herself in front of the girls' lodging house. She slowly trudged up the stairs and jumped up into her bunk. She didn't notice the other two girls until they said something.
"Hey, Sun," Broomstick said gently. "How ya doin? Light told me about your little problem."
"Oh she did, did she?" Sun said looking at Light who was convienently staring at the ceiling. "It's okay, Light. They were all going to find out anyways. Got any advice?"
"You need to take a semi-break from the Greenwich newsies," Broomstick supplied.
"Are you telling me I should leave?" Sun asked, the shock evident in her voice and on her face.
"No, no." Broomstick chuckled at the thought of telling one of the girls to leave. "I meant maybe you shouldn't spend so much time with the newsies. Like only sell in the mornings?"
"And what do you propose she does in the afternoon and evening?" Light asked. She wasn't sure if Broomstick knew what she was talking about or if it was just some random babbling.
"I know this man who lives a few minutes from the lodging house. He needs a governess for his kids. I told him I'd ask the girls if any of them were interested in giving up the "fine life". Now I figure it'd be perfect for you."
"Perfect?" Sun asked, demanding more information.
"The father... oh you might want to know his name. Gregory Marshall. Anyway, he has this teenage daughter. She's his life. He hasn't been much of a socialite since his wife died."
"How do you know all this?" Sun asked. Normally, Broomstick wasn't one to have a lot of connections. She tended to keep to herself until she really knows a person.
"I met the daugheter awhile back. She buys a pape from me everyday now. We chat a little. She's a nice girl. Wouldn't really fit in with the likes of us though. Her name's Cassandra," Broomstick explained.
"Oh, okay," Sun said. "So this guy needs someone to take care of his daughter? Why am I perfect for the job?"
"Well, he works at a lawyer's office. He's only needed from noon to around dinnertime. You're perfect because that means you can sell in the morning and then at lunch start the governess job. You'd be home by dinnertime so you could still live at the lodging house."
"You're absolutely right," Light said, finally realizing what this opportunity could do for Sun. If Sun wasn't around the lodging house all that much, Redd might have time to get over his feelings for her.
"So, what do you think, Sun?" Broomstick asked as she hopped up onto the bunk across from Sun's. "Should I tell Cass that she has a new governess?"
"Absolutely," Sun said, smiling for the first true time in what seemed like forever.
The next morning, Sun got up at her usual time, a few minutes before the other girls. She got dressed and was about to leave when she remembered something. She ran over to a still sleeping Broomstick and shook her.
"Whatdyawant?" Broomstick said, still asleep.
"I wanted to remind you that you said you'd sell with me today," Sun whispered. "Remember? You have to show me where the Marshalls live."
Broomstick nodded and turned over to her other side. Sun chuckled and walked out the door. She made her way to the other lodging house. Passing the same people she did everyday, doing something so routine, made her feel as if everything was normal and none of the events of the day before had happened.
But she realized they had when she got to the lodging house door. Redd was waiting for her outside.
"He's never ready on time," Sun thought to herself. "Something's up."
"Morning, 'Yana," Redd called out. "I couldn't sleep last night so I've been out here watching the different kinds of people pass by."
"Sounds as if it's lunchtime," Sun commented. "Are you ready to go?"
"Yeah."
The two walked in silence for a few minutes. Neither had any idea what they could say to the other. Sun finally decided to tell Redd what she's was going to start doing today.
"You'll never guess what job I'm starting today. I'm going to be a governess for a teenage girl."
"You? A governess?" Redd couldn't help but laugh. Once he started, he found it quite hard to stop.
"It's not funny," Sun playfully yelled. "I thought that I needed a break from being a newsie every hour of every day. So, I'm going to be a governess for the afternoons."
"Sounds like fun," Redd said as they neared the Center.
The pair sat down and started talking about what kinds of things she would screw up on the job. By the time the rest of the newsgirls and newsboys had caught up to them, they had prophecized that she would burn down all of Greenwich Village and half of Brooklyn.
"I'll see you later," Sun said as she caught sight of Broomstick. "I'm going to sell with Broomstick today. She has to show me where the Marshall's home is."
Redd called out goodbye as she disappeared into the crowd of newsies waiting to get their papes.
The rest of the morning was uneventful. The two newsgirls sold their papes without much talking. When a newsie gets their papes, they get into a mode where there's nothing they'd rather do then sell all day. That mood faded as more and more papers were sold.
By noon, both Broomstick and Sun were done with their selling. The two small talked all the way up to the Marshall home.
"It's huge," Sun remarked on the house. In fact, it was more like a mansion. "You never told me he was rich."
"I didn't know it mattered. You just walk up that sidewalk and knock on the front door. Introduce yourself." Broomstick gave her a little shove and called out goodbye.
Sun waved and did exactly what Broomstick had told her to. A young man answered the door. He was about 30 and looked like he had seen his share of hard times.
"Are you Mr. Marshall?" Sun asked.
"Call me Gregory. You must be the new governess. What was your name again? It seems to have slipped my mind at the moment."
"My name is S... Il...'Ya..." Sun blushed. She had no clue what to tell this man her name was. She didn't want to tell him it was Sun. That was a name only fit for a newsie. She didn't want to say Illyana. Only her father would ever be able to call her that. 'Yana was out of the question. That was purely for Redd to use. She finally decided on something that was inbetween. "My name is Ana. Ana Keller."
Sun stuck out her hand for Gregory to shake. Before he had a chance, a young girl of about thirteen burst into the front hallway.
"There you are," Gregory said, huggin the girl. "This is my daughter, Cassandra. She likes to be called Cass, though. Cass, this is your new governess..." Gregory paused not sure if he should refer to her as Miss or Mrs Keller.
"Ana," Sun said. "I'm Ana."
"Are you from England?" Cass asked for she was curious as to why Sun talked with an accent.
"Why would y'all say that?" Sun asked switching her accent to a southern one.
When Sun was little, she learned she could speak in accents. Any accent she heard, she could speak in perfectly. Her favorite was her native English one which is what she usually talked in.
Today, she decided it would be fun to play with Cass's mind a little.
"Are you from the South?" Cass asked.
" 'Tis the funniest thing I've ever heard a lass say," Sun said speaking in the Irish accent she had picked up when Lorelei and Limerick were at the lodging house.
"Where are you from?" Cass asked again, taking Sun's hand and leading her through the house.
"I'll talk to you later, Miss Ana. For now, enjoy your time with Cass. I must be going."
The two girls bid Gregory goodbye as he walked out the door and down the street. Once he was out of sight, Cass turned to Sun and asked again.
"Where are you from, Ana?"
"I'se from right 'ere in Greenwich Village," Sun said using her newsie accent. "I live at da Newsgoils' Lodging House. I'se a newsie in de morning."
Cass stood in front of a door in the upstairs hallway where she and Sun had stopped. Her mouth was hanging wide open.
"How do you do that?" she asked.
"I've always had a thing with accents," Sun said, switching back to her English one and explaining the situation. "I can speak in any accent I've ever heard. I can be high class. I can be low class. I can be German, French, Scottish, Welsh. You name it. I can speak in it."
"That's wonderful," Cass said.
Cass pushed open the door and led her into the room. It was decorated with many different kinds of fresh cut flowers. There were flowers hanging from the ceiling drying. There was floral wallpaper and tulips printed on the bedsheets.
"This is my room," Cass explained. "I love nature. Father lets me grow a small garden in the backyard. That's where all these flowers are from. What do you like?"
"I like writing," Sun said honestly. She was still in awe over how nice a room this was.
"Are you an author?" Cass asked innocently.
"I'm trying at least," Sun said, looking down lovingly at the girl. "Not a lot of places want to publish my work. But I won't give up. Someday, you'll see my book on every corner newstand."
"I'm sure I will," Cass said. The admiration in her voice was clear.
"So, why aren't you in school?" Sun asked.
"Dad likes to keep me here at home. He says it's safer. I get tutured every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. So, my studies are lagging. But sometimes I wish..."
"You wish what?" Sun pressed the thirteen-year-old for more information.
"I wish that I knew what the outside world was like. I mean, I know what it's like. There's love, heartbreak, sorrow, pain, achievement. I just want to live some of that."
"I know what you mean. It's a lot of fun being out there most of the time. But sometimes I can live without the heartbreak and pain." Sun paused for a moment and thought up an idea. "No, it will never work," she said.
"What?" Cass demanded.
"Well, as near as I can tell it, you two don't have any help that's constantly here. So, if we were to say go out for a little bit no one would have to know, right?"
"Could we?" Cass said, her eyes becoming large with excitement.
"Yes, we can. We'll start small. Today all we're going to do is go for a short walk. And I"ll show you where I live."
Cass hopped up and grabbed Sun's arm. Sun found herself being pulled through the house and out the door. Once they had gotten to the main street, Cass stopped leading.
"Where to now, Ana?"
"This way," Sun said pointing down the street.
The two talked all the way along the half hour walk to the lodging house. Sun couldn't help but laugh at the way Cass was excited to see even the smallest of things that went on everyday in the city. Finally, they reached the lodging house.
"Here we are," Sun said. "The Greenwich Village Newsgirls Lodging House."
Sun held her arm out to stop Cass as she started opening the door.
"I forgot to tell you, Cass," Sun said. "We newsies don't go by our real names. We have our own newsie names. Mostly it's to keep the bulls from finding us. But some of us just have them for fun. What I wanted to tell you before we went inside is that you can't call me Ana when we're around here. Here, I'm Sun."
"Why do they call you Sun?" Cass asked.
"It has something to do with my best friend. See, he's the one who persuaded me to settle here in Greenwich."
"Your best friend is a boy?" Cass said, the shock evident in her voice.
"Yes, Redd's a boy. And a gentlemen, too. Anyway, when the newsgirls saw me around him, they said I glowed like the sun. The rest is history. Are you ready to go inside?"
"Yes, Ana. Oops. I mean, Sun."
"You will have to be more careful about that. Redd's the only one who knows my real name besides Gregory and you."
Sun pushed the heavy wooden door open and Cass walked inside. She saw a pretty young woman at the desk doing some paperwork.
"Who's that?" she asked Sun.
"That, my dear, is Miss Annie Butler. She runs this place for us. Hey, Annie!" Sun called out.
"Hello, Sun. You're back early from your job," Annie said. Then she noticed Cass. "Who is this little angel?"
"This is Cass Marshall. She's the girl that I'm governess to. I thought she needed to be exposed to what life was really like. She's kinda sheltered. So I brought her here."
"Good choice. This is the safest place on these mean streets of Greenwich. If you're ever in trouble and need a place to hide, don't hesitate to come here."
"I won't, Miss Butler," Cass said, all the while staring at the floor.
"You can call me Annie. And don't stare at the floor, child. Look right at me. I swear, those skills they insist upon teaching little girls are so wrong. Etiquette they call it. Bah! Girls need to learn that if they want something, being submissive and demure isn't going to get them it. They need to reach out and take it!"
"Annie's big on women's rights," Sun explained.
"Someday, we'll be able to vote. You'll see. Then change will happen."
"Come on, Cass. Let me show you the bunkroom before Annie here turns you into a women's liberal."
Sun pushed open the door to the bunkroom and led Cass in by the hand.
"Hey, Cricket! Hello there Crickee," Sun said greeting Cricket's pet cricket. "This is Cass, the young girl I'm in charge of watching over. This is Cricket, Cass."
Sun took a look around the bunkroom and noticed that Forget-Me-Not was looking at the two of them, obviously waiting to be introduced. Sun grabbed Cass's hand and led her over to the bunk.
"Cass, this is Forget-Me-Not. She's my bunkmate. Forget-Me-Not, this is Cass Marshall. Her dad's the one who gave me the governess job."
The two girls nodded their hellos. Sun sat down on the bunk across from Forget-Me-Not's. Cass sat down next to her.
"You know you two are around the same age? Why don't you discuss the trials and tribulations of being thirteen?"
Sun smiled as she got up and left the room. She went downstairs and told Annie she was going to find Redd. She also warned Annie not to let Cass take a step outside the lodging house unless she was accompanied by one of the tougher newsgirsl, one of the newsboys, or Sun herself.
As Sun was walking down the street to her park, she ran into Willow. Willow looked rather dazed so Sun couldn't help but ask what was wrong.
"Are you okay, Will?"
"What? Oh! Sun! Sorry, I didn't see you," Willow said.
"No, you seemed to bein quite a daze," Sun commented. "What happened?"
"Nothing. I was just over in Brooklyn visiting Troll," Willow said, referring to her boyfriend.
"You really like him, don't you?"
"Yeah, I do. But hey! What are you doing out here at this time of day? I thought you were going to be a governess for a teenage girl during the afternoons," Willow said, obviously confused.
"I am. Cass, that's the girl, is up at the Lodging House. I have Annie watching her and Forget-Me-Not and Cricket entertaining her. You should go introduce yourself."
"I don't know, Sun. I mean, she's a rich girl, isn't she? I don't think I'll feel right talking to her. Me being just a plain newsie and all."
"Don't worry about it. The few newsies she's met so far seem to fascinate her."
Willow smiled and waved goodbye to Sun as she ran down the street. Sun smiled and continued on her way.
She found Redd sitting at their park bench eating his pretzel, like she expected him, too. He looked kind sad and lost.
"Hey, Redd. How's it rollin'?" Sun asked as she down next to him.
"Good, Sun. I thought you were starting your new job today," Redd said.
"Yeah. Cass is at the lodging house. That's the thirteen year old I'm in charge of. She's talking to some of the girls." Sun paused for a second to look at Redd. Redd's stomach was shaking as he tried to hold in his laughter. "Go ahead. Let it out," Sun told him. When he finally got himself under control, she asked him what was so funny.
"It's just that I realized something. You're never going to be good at this governess thing, are you?" Redd asked.
"What do you mean by that?" Sun yelled. She was starting to get majorly frustrated with Redd.
"Well, it's your first day on the job and you've already handed your charge off to others to watch. Face it, Sun. I don't think you have what it takes to cut it."
"How rude!" Sun said, standing up. She stuck her tongue out at Redd and started to stomp away.
"Wait! Wait!" Redd called. He grabbed her arm and turned her back to face him. "You didn't let me finish. I wanted to tell you I think you should start selling papers full time again."
"What good would that do me? It sure wouldn't earn me the money I'm making on this job," Sun stated.
"Well, you would also keep writing your books. They'd sell and earn you more money then you've ever had in your life."
"I thought you said I didn't have any good work written," Sun said, beginning to become confused.
"Well, the fluff you write isn't good. But I was thinking about it the other day. I think you should write a book about this," Redd said as he opened his arms wide and made a full turn.
"You want me to write about Greenwich Village? There's plently of informational books out there, Redd. No one needs another."
"I wasn't talking about Greenwich Village. I was talking about your life. Write about the newsgirls and newsboys. Write about our relationship. Write about what this park means to you. Write about you."
"That's a stupid idea," Sun said. "No one out there cares about the life of a little newsgirl and her friends. We're just a convienent way for the citizens to buy their papes. No one cares about our lives."
"You're wrong. If you would just write about these things, you'd be able to sell the book as easy as it would be to write it," Redd tried to explain.
"I can't talk to you," Sun said. "I'll see you tomorrow morning bright and early. I've got to get back to my job."
Sun walked out of the park and down the street, distracted by her thoughts. "Why would Redd think that idea was so good?" she thought outloud to herself quietly. She was so completely engrossed in her thoughts that she didn't notice when someone cut in front of her. The two girls ended up on the ground.
"Geez, watch where you're gonna, scab!" the other girl cried.
"Sorry," Sun muttered and started to walk away.
"Sun? Is that you?" the other girl asked.
"Who wants to... oh. It's you Dice. I didn't recognize you," Sun admitted.
"Obviously," Spades Malone said as she walked over to the girls. Dice and she had been selling their papes on seperate sides of the street. When Spades heard Dice yelling, she came to see what had upset her best friend so much.
"Oh. Hey, Spades. Sorry again, Dice. I guess I just have a lot on my mind right now."
"Like what?" Dice asked.
"Well, I just talked to Redd," Sun said. Seeing the shocked looks on her friends' faces, she explained what was going on. "We're trying to patch up our friendship. We both mean too much to each other to let it all go to waste."
"That's sweet," Spades said as the trio began to walk down the street together.
"It's really forgiving of him," Sun admitted.
"But what has you so oblivious to the world?"
"Redd told me that I could never hack it as a governess. Then, he told me what I should do with my life. He said I should be a newsie full time again and then write a book."
"Isn't that what you've been doing?" Spades asked.
"Yeah. But he said I should write a different kind of book. One about the newsgirls and newsboys here in Greenwich. Can you believe that? As if that book had any chance of succeeding even if I broke down and wrote it."
"I like the idea," Dice admitted. "I like it a lot. What about you, Spades?"
"I like it, too. It's something no other author's done. Probably because most newsies don't grow up to be published book authors."
"I can't believe you two," Sun yelled. "You're both as blind as Redd. No one cares about us street trash. The book would go nowhere."
"I don't know about that," Dice started, but she quickly stopped when she saw Sun's eyes begin to sparkle with red. That meant her temper was about to burst to the surface. "But let's forget about that whole book thing for now. Willow passed us and told us there was a new girl at the house."
"Oh. She means Cass," Sun said, calming down. "That's the little girl I'm governessing. Well, actually, she isn't that little. She's as old as Forget-Me-Not."
"So why don't we go and meet her?" Spades asked.
The three girls gossiped about the latest happenings in the lodging houses of Greenwich. After a few minutes, they arrived at the lodging house. Walking inside, they noticed the group of people there had grown. Now, not only was Annie, Cricket, Willow, and Forget-Me-Not there. But they had been joined by Snow, Griff O'Malley, and Legend Keller.
The guys and girls always teased Sun that she and Legend were related. But they both knew they weren't. Legend had no relatives or ancestors in England and Sun had none in America.
"Well, I see you're all here," Sun said as she entered the room. "But where's Cass?"
"All the excitement made her very tired," Snow said. "She's upstairs sleeping in Ragamuffin's bunk."
"Okay, thanks," Sun said as she went upstairs. True to her word, Cass was sleeping on Ragamuffin's bunk. Sun gently shook her and Cass awoke with a start.
"Where am I? What happened, Ana?" Cass said, a bit frazzled.
"Remember, I'm Sun here," Sun whispered. "You feel asleep. The excitement was too much for you. Come on. We need to get you home before your father gets home."
Cass nodded and stood up. The two went downstairs, shouted their goodbyes, and were out the door within a few minutes. A half hour later, the two exhausted girls entered the Marshall residence.
"Let's get you cleaned up," Sun said. "It looks like the lodging house dirt rubbed off on you."
Sun helped Cass picked out a new dress and sent her into the bathroom. A few minutes later, the girl hopped down the stairs and into the sitting room, completely refreshed. The two girls said there trying to catch their breath. They had been hurrying for the past forty-five minutes. They both thought they needed a rest.
But neither were going to get it. At that moment, Gregory came hold. Cass got renewed energy and ran to greet her father. After the two had finished hugging, Gregory bid Sun hello.
"I trust you guys became good friends today, Ana. I can't remember the last time I came home and there's wasn't a complaint about the governess."
"Thank you, sir," Sun said, becoming polite again in front of her employer.
"I told you earlier. You don't need to be that formal. Call me, Gregory."
"Yes... Gregory," Sun said smiling at the man.
"So are you two hungry?" he asked.
"Starved" answered Cass. "What's for dinner tonight?"
"I thought we'd go to Little Italy for some food."
"Isn't Little Italy a little too far to be walking?" Sun asked. She knew it wasn't too far for her, but for an older man and a exhausted young girl it could seem like forever.
"We'll be taking a carriage there, of course. I'll just hitch it up and we should be good to go in a few minutes. Cass, why don't you show Ana where she can freshen up?" Gregory smiled and walked out of the room.
"I think he likes you," Cass said.
"Don't be silly," Sun scolded.
"Wouldn't it be wonderful if you two got married and you were my new mom?"
"Mmmhmmm," Sun said, lost in her thoughts again. Except this time they weren't about Redd.
"Ana? Are you still there?"
"What?" Sun absentmindedly said. "Oh! Cassandra Marshall, don't be silly. Your father and I just met today. Tell you what. While we wait for your father, you can help me brainstorm new ideas for my books. I was planning on starting a new one tonight. My old one, even though it was only half done, was shot down by the most important critque of all."
"Your family?" Cassandra innocently asked.
"No... my family aren't with me," Sun said. She wasn't sure if she wanted to get into the gruesome details of her past with Cass. "I was talking about my best friend, Redd. You'll have to meet him sometime. He's my family here in America."
"Is he handsome?" Cass asked another question.
"You have boys on your mind too much. It's not healthy. Come on. Your father said you'd show me where I can freshen up."
Cass smiled and led Sun to a bathroom in the lower level of the house. After Sun made sure her hair looked managable and her face and hands weren't smudged with dirt, the two returned to the front sitting room. Gregory was waiting.
"Are you two finally ready?" he asked. "Then, let's go."
Gregory offered his arm to Sun and reached out his other to hold his daughter's hand. The three walked out the door and into the carriage.
"I never dreamed this job would be so wonderful," Sun thought to herself as she watched the neighborhood roll by.
~*~
Months passed. The Marshalls and Sun got closer and closer. Everyday, Sun took Cass out to see the newsies. Cass even took a liking, and a small crush, to Redd. People on the streets would mistake the two girls for sisters.
Gregory and Sun were also getting closer. Sun had begun to stay after dinner to talk to the man. She found him very inspiring. His life was such a glamorous one that Sun bet any person out there would want to hear about it. The male protagonists in her book started becoming more and more like Gregory.
Gregory also found Sun inspiring. She had finally worked up the courage to tell him about her family and her years of wandering around New York. It fascinated him, the was she managed to adapt to living on her own. He also loved the courage she showed in dealing with the deaths of all her known relatives.
One night, Sun was writing some of her latest book in the Marshall library. A long time ago, Cass had told her it would be okay if she used the room. That way, if she needed to concentrate, she always had a nice quiet place to go.
That night, Sun had gotten on a role and wrote page after page. She would have kept writing if she didn't sense someone's eyes on her. She turned to see Gregory at the door.
"You can come in, you know?" Sun said. "It is your house after all."
"I know that," Gregory said, coming into the room and sitting down in the chair next to Sun's. "It just looked like you were concentrating really hard. I didn't want to disturb you."
"I was just writing some more of my book. Remember I was telling you about it the other night?" Sun said, hoping she wouldn't have to explain again. She really wanted to get back to writing while she was on a streak.
"The one about the school sweethearts who grow up and find each other again?"
"Yeah, that's the one. I'm up to the point where the girl realizes her old flame is the only man she'll ever love."
"Sounds interesting," Gregory said honestly. "When do you think you'll have it published and out in the world?"
"Published?" Sun said, trying to control her laughter. But she had no luck. Her genuine hooting and hollaring echoed through the house. "My books? Published? That's too funny."
"What do you mean?" Gregory said. Sun was a really fun woman to be around but most times, she really confused him.
"Gregory," Sun started, "I've never been published in my life. I've written two finished books and a thousand unfinished one. No one's ever interested in what I have to say. I still write though because I know one of these days, it'll happen."
"I'm sure it will," Gregory said. He thought about what she had said for a few moments, then added, "Why is it that no one wants to publish your works?"
"I guess I can sum it up in the words of a dear friend," Sun said. She lowered her voice and continued, " 'Your work will never amount to anything, 'Yana'. That's what he calls me. 'You just don't put your heart into your work. You write about things that would never happen in the real world. You need to right about reality'."
"What's the fun in that?" Gregory asked. "I mean, for some people, reality's not that great."
"But for some it is," Sun said. "I mean, I can see where he's coming from. But I just don't think I have it in me to right about things that are real and close to my heart. I'm not talented enough."
"You're talented more than you know, Ana," Gregory said. "Now why don't you collect your things and start making your way to the Lodging House? It's getting late and I wouldn't want you to be forced to walk home when it's dangerous."
"Thanks," Sun said. "I'll see you tomorrow, right?"
"Of course," Gregory said. "And everyday until you get tired of us."
"I'll never get tired of you two. You're some of the greatest people I've ever had the pleasure of knowing."
Gregory squeezed her hand and held the door open for her as she walked outside. Sun waved goodbye from down the road. Then, she started the walk home to the lodging house. She wanted to get there as soon as possible. She had just had another brilliant idea for her book.
A half hour later, she burst into the lodging house. She nodded to Annie and ran up the stairs. Annie chuckled. She was used to this routine. When Sun walked home, she spent all her time thinking about her stories and how she could improve them. Usually, she would burst into the house full of ideas and run towards the sitting room. At this time of night, most of the girls were usually either in the bunkroom or the parlor gossiping or playing cards. So, the sitting room was a semi-quiet place for Sun to write.
A few minutes later, Nova came into the parlor. She sat down next to Sun on the couch and waited for her fellow newsgirl to wrap up writing.
"So, what can I do for you?" Sun asked as she looked up from her notebook.
"I was just wondering how your book was going," Nova said.
"Rather well. Being around Gregory so much gives me a lot of ideas about what the upper class is like. I feel like this book might just be the one that finally gets published. Gregory says it's good enough for every socialite he knows to want to read."
"You are sure getting close to this Gregory, aren't you?" Nova observed.
"He's really nice. Unlike Redd, he gives me confidence to keep writing. I probably would have quit if it wasn't for his encouragement."
"Really? You were that low?" Nova asked, her face obviously showing her shock. But then something dawned on her. "Redd's been giving you the old 'your heart isn't in your work' speech again, hasn't it?"
"Yes, he has," Sun said. "Hey! I just had another idea. Could you go see if Nightingale is hanging around? I need her help for this one."
Nova nodded and left the room.
Sun started thinking about her book. She had just thought up the idea of a masked ball where the two old lovers find themselves attracted to one another. Only they didn't know it was the same person they knew years ago. Sun knew that Nightingale would help her with the description of the events. After all, Night was a member of high society years ago.
Sun started to write some of the dialogue between the characters as she waited for Nova to find Nightingale. Soon, the sitting room door opened and Night tiptoed in.
"You don't have to be so quiet," Sun said with a chuckle.
"Sorry. I just didn't want to disturb you if you were on a writing streak," Nightingale explained.
"No, I wasn't. I was just writing some filler stuff while I was waiting for you. I'm glad Nova found you easily."
"You could say that. The girl walked right into the bunkroom and pulled me away from the book I'm reading. If I didn't know what Nova was like, I would have been upset. So, what's up?" Night plopped herself on the floor next to the couch.
"Well, I had another brilliant idea."
"You and your brilliant ideas!" Night said throwing her hands into the air.
"Funny. I thought about having this ball and you know me. I'm not used to talking about things so high class. So... I figured with your background you can help me with the descriptions."
"I'll be happy to help," Nightingale said. "In fact, I can think of a ball that would fit your story exactly. It was a while ago when I was ten. The place looked magnificent."
Sun flipped to a new page and started taking notes on everything Nightingale was saying.
~*~
A few days later, Sun let Gregory and Cass read the new section to her book. She valued both their opinions greatly.
"It's great," Cass said. "I really like the part where Laura and Scott dance with each other but they don't know it's the other one they're dancing with."
"I'm glad you like it," Sun said. "I could stay here forever talking about what parts you life. But I have a feeling you have somewhere to go."
"That's right!" Cass exclaimed, suddenly remembering. "I have my dance lessons tonight."
Cass started running through the house collecting the things she would need. Her toe shoes and dance outfit. A bag to put them in. Her tights. And everything else.
Gregory and Sun laughed at her hectiveness. They watched her race right out the door.
"She really enjoys the dancing, doesn't she?" Sun asked.
"She loves it. But now, dear Ana, I think we were talking about your book. And if I recall, I haven't told you what I think of the new part."
"You don't like it, do you?" Sun's smile slowly faded away.
"No, I don't," said Gregory. His face showed no emotion. "I love it. Your description are so vivid. It's like the reader is right there in the middle of the action. How did you ever dream up such a glorious place?"
"I had a little help from a friend. She dug into her memories and told me about a grand ball she attended a few years back. Her recollection was so great that I thought I had been there."
Gregory laughed at her comment. The pair walked into the kitchen and starting making some dinner. On the nights Cass had dance, they ate dinner together in the kitchen. It was their way of catching up on each other's lives.
"So, have you ever really been to a ball?" Gregory asked after they had sat down and started eating.
"Actually, I've never been to one. I feel like I have, though. Since I was a little girl, I dreamed of going to one. Of course, I would be accepted into the rich crowd immediately. I would meet my prince and we would become engaged that night," Sun said, going off into dream land. Suddenly, she pulled herself back to reality. "But that was a long time ago."
"It sounds like you would jump at the chance to go to a ball. I mean, you've had such found memories of them."
"Ohhhh. I f I were ever given the chance, I would be in heaven. I mean, the ladies in beautiful gowns. The men in suits. The hall lit up with candle light. The delicate food. Oh. It would be amazing." Sun cleared the dishes from the table. She and Gregory started walking down the hall.
"Then, why don't you come with me? I have a ball I must go to in a few days. I will have Cass pick you out a dress when she goes shopping with me tomorrow morning."
"Oh! I can't," Sun said, rather disappointed. "What will all your friends think? I mean, you'd be taking your hired help to such a unique event. It would be scandalous. I can't let myself destroy your life like that."
"Don't be silly. First of all, I don't care what people say. So, what if you're a governess? You're also a beauty lady who, if she were born of station, would be welcome at any ball. Secondly, these people are not my friends. I don't care to mingle with them. They're selfish and completely full of themselves. Only reason I go to these things is to put in an appearance. I don't want my daughter growing up as an outcast in her own school. So, won't you come with me?"
"All right," Sun said. "You win. I'll go with you. But only this once." Sun sat down in a chair. "Well, now you know my weak spot. I should think it only fair if you told me yours."
"You're looking at it," he said pointing to a mirror on the wall beside her.
Sun blushed. After she felt her cheeks cooling down, she stood up.
"I guess I'd better be going. Annie and the newsgirls will start to get worried about me."
Sun smiled and walked out of the room. Soon, Gregory heard the door slam shut. She had just made another clever escape out of a uncomfortable, even difficult, situation.
Sun walked down the street and for once, she wasn't thinking about book ideas. She was thinking about Gregory and the ball. She knew she enjoyed spending time with her employer. But was this upcoming ball going to change their relationship?
She had just begun to get used to her life. She was starting to feel as comfortable as she was before Redd had shook her whole life up. "Redd..." she whispered to herself as her eyes started welling up. She hadn't seen her best friend in weeks. She was really starting to miss him, too.
"Whatcha thinkin' about?" someone called to her as she neared the lodging house.
"Oh, Scooter. It's only you," Sun said as she stopped to catch her breath. "You scared me."
"I always scare you," Scooter said. "You just let your mind wander too much. If you concentrated on what was going on around you, I'd never have to sneak up on you. You'd see me coming."
Sun smiled at Scooter's enthusiasm. The girl sure had a mouth on her.
"So, whatcha thinkin' about?" Scooter asked again.
"A ball. A wonderful beautiful ball," Sun said. Seeing the look on Scooter's face, she decided to explain a little more. "Gregory read the new part to my story and got me to tell him about my love for balls. Then, he invited me to one he's going to in a few days."
"You're going to a ball? Wow! Who would have believed poor little Sun Keller would ever be invited to a ball? She's low class and that's such a high class thing. Oh will wonders never cease!" Scooter said, trying to be overdramatic.
"You are so weird," Sun said as she held the lodging house door open for Scooter.
"Thank you," Scooter said, proudly. "Hey, Bright!" Scooter shouted across the room at her fellow newsgirl. "You'll never guess what happened to Sun?"
"What?" Bright called, motioning for the two newsgirls to come over to where she was sitting.
"Gregory asked me to a ball," Sun said.
"No way! That's too great. What are you going to wear?" Star Bright asked
"Cass is picking me out a dress tomorrow morning. I think Gregory realized that anything I had wouldn't fit the situation."
"So, how's life with Gregory?" Bright teased. "Has he kissed you yet?"
"Star Bright! I told you that we're just friends."
"Yeah, just friends," Scooter muttered. "I've never seen two people who were so obviously not just friends. Well, actually, I have. But that's another story. Though it is kinda related to this one because I mean, it involves you Sun. Oh! And Redd of course. If someone didn't know you two, they would have thought you were married. I mean, you two always are acting like an old married couple. Aren't they, Bright? But anyway, let's get back to Gregory since he's the current man in your life."
"Would you be quiet?" Bright asked. "Gosh. Why'd you have to get her going, Sun?"
"I don't know," Sun said, letting out a light laugh.
Scooter let out a big huff and stomped away, muttering, "I know when I'm not wanted."
"That girl really cracks me up," Sun said. She looked over at Bright who was sitting there with an insistent look on her face. "What?"
"So, tell me. All teasing aside, what is going on with you and Gregory?"
"I don't know. I really don't know. I like him. Or at least I think I like him. But I'm not sure if it's in that way, you know? And everyone insists that he fancies me but I don't see it. I'm not sure if this invitation is his way of showing it or whether it's just an act of kindness."
"You have a lot of things to sort out," Bright stated. "Do you want to be left alone?"
"No, I think, right now, I need to be around you guys. I definitely need some distractions. And no one's better for that than The Greenwich Newsgirls."
"Come on," Bright said, pulling Sun to her feet. "I think I hear Dice upstairs, trying to start a game of craps."
~*~
The next few days flew by in a hurry. All Cass could talk about was how pretty the ball would be and how much fun Sun would have. Sun and Gregory barely saw each other. He was busy tending to the final arrangements for the ball.
Soon, it was the night of the ball. Gregory had offered to let Sun get ready at the Marshall house. But she declined, saying she knew of sixteen girls who had been waiting all week to help her get ready. So, here she was. An hour before Gregory was going to swing by and pick her up, standing in the middle of the bunkroom floor while all the girls buzzed around her.
Spritz came running into the room carrying a large blue box. She skidded to a half right in front of Sun.
"This was just dropped off at the desk for you," Spritz pratically screamed. She was way too excited. "There's a note, too. Read it!"
"It says, 'Dear um... Sun'," Sun covered. She didn't want the newsgirls to know she told him her real name. "This is for your hair. I figured you might be feeling like a princess tonight. So you might as well look it. Gregory."
"Ooooo," Spritz said. "Well, open the box!"
"Settle down, girl!" But Sun did as she was asked and opened the box. All the girls gasped when they saw what was inside. It was a delicate looking tiara. There were small emeralds, rubys, and diamonds inset into it.
Sun took it out of the box and turned it around a few times.
"This is so hard to believe," she whispered.
"You're telling me!" Claire shouted. "Now we have completely change what was going to be done to your hair!"
"Aw, it's okay," Sun said. "We'll just curl my hair and pin it up in the crown."
"It's not that great," Mercy whispered from her bunk.
Mercy was one of the new girls at the lodging house and no one had really cracked her shell of distancing. No one could really get her to open up. She was just too cold to talk to for more than a few minutes.
Sun glared at Mercy and walked over to the mirror on the bunkroom wall. She put the tiara on her head.
"I think it's absolutely breathtaking," she commented as she looked right at Mercy.
A few minutes later, Sun was completely finished getting ready. All the girls were still standing around admiring their handywork.
"You really look great," Dice said.
The other girls were about to compliment her, too, when they heard Annie shout.
"That must be Gregory now," Broomstick said.
All the girls raced downstairs. Sun had told them Gregory Marshall was on the handsome side but they wanted to see him for themselves. They were stopped dead in their tracks when they caught sight of him.
"He's hot! Almost makes me want to forget about Wisecrack," Light said.
Her twin sister looked at her with a shocked look.
"Nah!" they both said at the same time, collapsing in a fit of giggles.
Unfortunately, their collapse drew Gregory's attention to the clump of girls staring at him. He smiled and waved at Broomstick, the only newsgirl besides Sun whom he knew by name.
Broomstick walked over and started pointing at the girls. "Those two gigglers are Star Light and Star Bright. The silent moody one who's pretending she doesn't care is Mercy. The girl in front of her is Willow. Beside them are Spades and Nova. Dice, our faithful leader, is in front. Next to her is the other new girl Amarilla. Behind everyone, trying to hide because she's shy, is Scooter. The silent one is Snow. She can't speak much English. That's Forget-Me-Not. She's Sun's bunkmate. Scarecrow's the one next to Dice. The one playing with a bug is Cricket. She has a thing for them. Ragamuffin's the girl behind Cricket. The girl humming to herself in the corner is Nightingale. The one that looks a touch standoffish is Claire. Beside her, with the 'white' hair is Mist. The last two are Spritz and Willow. You know Miss Annie. So, are there any questions?"
"Yeah," Gregory said with a little chuckle. "Where's Sun?"
"Oh! She's coming," Broomstick said with a smile.
"I'm right here," Sun said as she descended down the stairs. "Sorry for sending the whole squad down to greet you. They all wanted to see what you looked like."
"Forget what I look like," Gregory whispered to her. "You look beautiful."
"Thanks," Sun said as a pink blush filled her face. "Are you ready to go? I wouldn't want these oddballs making us late."
Gregory offered his arm and Sun waved as they walked out the door. She just managed to hear Willow whisper "It's almost like a fairytale" before the wooden door shut.
The carriage ride was spent in silence. Both of them were taking in the other's presence. It wasn't everyday that Sun saw a handsome man dressed up and Gregory saw such a pretty woman sitting across from him in his carriage.
When they arrived at the ball, Gregory offered his arm again and led Sun right into the heart of the ball. She was amazed at how beautiful the place looked. In fact, it looked eerily similar to the ball she had described in her story.
After a few minutes of mingling and introductions, Gregory led Sun onto the dance floor. The two were swept up into an elaborate waltz.
"Where'd you learn to dance so gracefully?" Gregory asked.
"When I was a little girl, my poppa used to take me dancing in a small place in downtown London. All the people there were so friendly. They taught me how to do all the civilized dances. Like the waltz, the tango, and the rhumba."
"You sure had an interesting life," Gregory said as he spun her.
"You're telling me."
Sun broke away from Gregory for a minute to catch her breath. Gregory whispered that he saw someone he needed to talk business too. He promised to meet her in the other room.
Sun walked over into the other room to get something to drink. Taking her champagne to a table, she sat down with her back to the bar, listening to all the people who were coming and going. One conversation particularly sparked her interest.
"Did you see that girl Gregory Marshall was dancing with?" a young female voice said.
"Yes! Can you believe it? He's actually dating again. After his wife's tragic death, my mother thought he would never come out of his shell," the other girl said.
"Oh, Sarah! Your mother is such an old gossip," the first girl whispered.
"Sometimes it pays off though, Kel. Turns out the girl Gregory Marshall's with is his governess. Can you believe that? He brought his hired help with him."
"Oh! The poor man. He must have needed someone at the last minute. No one brings their work staff to things like these unless they're in a jam."
"I'm sure he's shunned her by now. Why look! There he is on the dance floor with the Countess.
Kel laughed. "I bet he stored the governess in some corner and told her not to move until he came back."
The two gossiping girls walked back to the main room, leaving Sun sitting there shocked. Was Gregory really using her because there was no one else available on such short notice?
Quickly getting up, Sun got her coat from the coat room and rushed outside. Unfortunately for her, her departure didn't go unnoticed. Gregory excused himself from the current conversation he was in and raced out after Sun.
"Ana! Where are you going?" he called out at the figure in front of him.
"I'm going home. I never should have come here. It's not my place to pretend to be a part of something I'm not. I don't belong here."
"Of course, you belong here. Everyone at the ball loved you. You were great."
"Stop flattering me. Please. I should just go home. I don't belong here."
"You belong here. With me," Gregory said, suddenly getting serious. "My place is with you and your place is with me. Can't you feel the connection between us?"
"What are you talking about? Why are you being so serious? What's the matter?" Sun said. She was starting to get frightened by Gregory's tone of voice.
"I'm trying to admit something that's very hard for me to say. I've known about it for a few weeks now. I've just been too afraid to tell you, Ana."
"You don't have to be afraid of telling me things, Gregory. I'm your friend."
"I wish you were so much more," he whispered. "Over the past few weeks, I've found myself getting closer and closer to you. I've grown to love you as more than just my friend and confidante. I love you as a man should love a woman."
Sun started shaking her head in disbelief.
"You can't tell me you aren't attracted to me too. I see it in your eyes. You just have to open them a little more and see that we're right for each other. We're supposed to spend the rest of our lives together."
"Are you proposing marriage?" Sun asked. She was still deep in shock.
"Yes, I'm proposing we embrace our fate and live the rest of our lives together. That's the way it should be."
"Gregory, I think we're moving too fast. We haven't even known each other for a year. We've never been on a date."
"But you know deep down in your heart it was meant to be, don't you?"
"No. You're the one feeling deep down in your heart that I'm the one for you. I have to admit I am attracted to you. But as friends are attracted to one another."
"You're saying no?" he asked, completely dumbfounded.
"I can't accept a proposal from you. It just doesn't feel right in my heart. Maybe some-"
Sun was interrupted by an out-of-breath Ragamuffin. One look at Ragamuffin's face told Sun something was drastically wrong.
"What's wrong?" she asked, pleading with Ragamuffin to tell her it was nothing really big.
"It's Redd."
That was all Ragamuffin managed to get out before Sun was running towards the Greenwich Newsboys Lodging House.
"Sorry for running you night, Mr. Marshall," Ragamuffin called as she ran after Sun.
The two newsgirls reached the lodging house in record time. Sun rushed right past all the newsboys in the lobby. They shouted warnings for her to not go up there but she didn't listen. She found Doc looking over Redd who was sleeping in his bunk.
"What happened?" she asked as she slowly walked over to the bunk.
"Redd's been sick for the last few days. No one really noticed. I mean, you were the only one who was really close to the boy. He collapsed in a small park today. Luckily, Griff found him not too long after."
"Does he have the flu?" Sun said as she sat down next to Redd and gently brushed his cheek.
"No, Sun. It's much worse than that. He has scarlet fever. It's very contagious. In fact, I'm having most of the newsboys move into your lodging house tonight. The only ones who get to stay are those who've already have it. Now, you'll have to stay here. You've been exposed in a major way."
"That's okay. I would have refused to leave anyway. Besides, I had the fever when I was a little girl. Do me a favor. Go downstairs and tell Ragamuffin to get my stuff. Tell her I'm going to be living her for a while."
Doc nodded and walked downstairs. Sun stared at Redd's face that was covered in beads of sweat.
"Oh dear. Why didn't I notice this coming? I'm your best friend. I'm supposed to know these things before even you do."
Sun snuggled down next to Redd's body and fell asleep. She had had a long night and rest seemed like the right solution to all her problems at that moment.
A few hours later, Sun woke up to a two pairs of eyes staring at her. She jumped up.
"Scarecrow! Amarilla!" she yelled. After taking a second to compose herself, she continued, "Why didn't you guys wake me?"
"We didn't want to disturb you. It looks like you've had a long day," Amarilla said. "Here are some clothes. Why don't you change?"
Sun nodded and walked into the bathroom. A few minutes later, she reemerged looking very refreshed. She walked over and sat down on the empty bunk next to Redd.
"Did you guys bring my writing supplies?"
"Yay," Scarecrow said. "Why'd ya ask?"
"I need to write a letter to Gregory and I wanted one of you guys to take it to him for me. I can't leave Redd to do it myself."
"That's all right," Scarecrow reassured Sun. "I'll take it to him bright and early tomorrow morning. It's a little too late right now."
Sun nodded and started writing. When she was done, she held the letter up to Amarilla and Scarecrow. She knew they were dying to read what was so important that she had to get a message to Gregory as soon as possible. Amarilla gasped when she saw what is said.
Dearest Gregory (and my Cass),
I never thought this time would come. But I'm sorry to say I must leave your employment. My dearest friend, Redd, whom you've met, Cass, has fallen ill and it doesn't look too good for his future. He needs me now. I dare not leave his side for a second. So, I will not have time to fill the afternoon governess job. There are many other newsgirls here in Greenwich who would be willing to help you out. Not every newsgirl lives in our lodging house. There are many in boarding houses aroung the Village. I'm sure you won't have trouble finding a replacement.
Wipe those wrinkles of sadness and worry that I know are on your face, Cass, off. I'll be around. You're getting older. I think you're mature enough to come visit the other newsgirls and me. I'll look foward to seeing you. You'll find me not at the girl's lodging house, but here in the newsboys' one with Redd. Gregory, you are welcome to visit me at any time, too. I'm going to leave it at this for I hear Redd stirring and I have to check on him.
Much love and forevermore, your Ana
Scarecrow finally composed herself. "You told them your real name? The one no one's allowed to even mention?"
Sun nodded as she stood up. She walked over to a nearby basin of water and rung out a cloth. Walking back over to the bunks, she gently pressed the cloth on Redd's head. He stirred at the sudden coolness. She sat down and waited for the two newsgirls to ask more questions.
"So you're not going to live with us anymore?" a confused Amarilla said.
"Not until I'm absolutely positive Redd is going to pull through this. He needs me. I'm his anchor." Sun paused for a second and looked down at the floor. Then, she whispered something. "I'm not going to sell papers either."
"What?" both newsgirls shrieked.
"I won't have time. I need to stay by Redd's side. You guys didn't hear the way Doc was talking. He's not sure Redd's going to ever get better. I can't let him... he deserves to have someone here when..."
Claire, who wanted to check to see what was taking Scarecrow and Amarilla so long, walked into the room and sat beside Sun. She held her arms out and Sun collapsed into them crying.
"There, there," Claire whispered, dropping her standoffish ways for a few precious seconds. "Everything's going to turn out all right. You'll see. Redd will be fine. You'll get him through this whole ordeal."
Sun sat back up, nodding all the way. She gave the three newgirls a reassuring smile. Claire bid Sun goodbye and dragged Amarilla and Scarecrow out before they could ask even more questions that were going to hurt Sun.
Sun sat in the lodging house all alone. At least, she thought she was all alone. Figuring that Doc was busy trying to clear the guys out, she walked around the upstairs of the lodging house. Everything was a mess. All the newsies were in such a hurry to get their belongings and get out before they, too, became sick that they had forgotten to leave the place looking halfway decent.
Figuring there was nothing else to do, Sun started straighting up. She lost track of time, getting wrapped up in the whole cleaning thing. Before she knew it, it was night and there was someone tapping on the bunkroom door.
"Come in," she called as she picked up a mattress that was half lying on the floor.
"Hello, Sun," Doc said as he came into the room. "It's just me. How's Redd doing?"
"He seems to be the same as you left him. He's hot sometimes. I've been putting a cool cloth on his head. But then he gets cold. So I take the cloth away and cover him up with some blankets I took off the other boys' bunks. Then, he gets hot again. I don't know what to do."
"That's normal," Doc said reassuring her. It was then that he noticed the state of the bunkroom. "Wow. This place looks almost livable."
"Thanks. I've been working on it to keep my mind off... the problem."
"Well, you've been doing a good job. I ran into Scarecrow on the way back from the girls' house. She said you quit your governess job and decide to stop selling papers. I couldn't help but wonder what you were planning on doing for a living now."
"I don't really know, Doc. All I know is it has to be something that lets me stay with Redd all the time. I can't leave him," Sun said, trying to stress that there was no way anyone could convince her otherwise.
"That's what I thought you'd say," Doc admitted. "But seeing this room after its miraculous transition, I think I've figured out a solution to that. The boys and I discussed it. We're going to shut the loding house top floor down for a little bit. I was thinking that maybe you could do some really thorough cleaning of it. The kind of cleaning you could never do with a bunch of boys constantly coming and going."
"That sounds great, Doc. But it won't make me money. You know I'd love to do this for you but I have to find something that pays me a little."
"I know that," Doc said, allowing a little chuckle to escape his lips. "You didn't let me finish. The boys also decided that with the closing of the top floor, the lodging house is going to suffer. Therefore, they all decided to still pay their lodging, even though most of them are living at Annie's house. She agreed to let them stay for free because of the whole crisis. Oh! She also wanted to tell you that she's going to save your bunk for you. She knows you're going to come back soon."
"I'm glad someone has faith that I'll come back," Sun whispered.
"I know you're going to go back there, too, Sun. But while you're here, I'll pay you to do that cleaning since I'm still going to be taking in the same amount of money. And you'll have free run of the kitchen. You can make your meals here so you won't have to leave to eat."
"Oh thank you, Doc!" Sun said as she suddenly jumped into his arms. "You're the greatest. I don't know what I'd do without you and Annie. You two are my guardian angels."
"Well, I'm not done yet," Doc said. "Annie and I also decided that cleaning won't be enough to occupy your mind. We got you this."
Doc held out a thick rectangular package. When Sun took it out of Doc's hand, it flopped down. She couldn't contain her curiousity any longed. She ripped the brown paper wrapping off and looked at what was inside.
Sitting in her hands was a huge stack of blank paper and ten pencils. She glanced up at Doc with a confused look.
"What is all this for?" she asked.
"Annie and I decided that while you're here at my house, you are going to write a story. And that story is going to get published. That way, you'll be making some little extra money for yourself in the end."
"I don't think I can do that, Doc. None of the city publishers like the kinds of things I write. I've never gotten anything published. Not for lack of trying though. Redd always insisted I keep trying even if what I was showing people was fluff."
"I know you have it in you. You have the possibility of a great many good books. You just need to learn how to write them. You know, many a late night, Redd used to come in all frustrated. He used to sit and talk to me for hours about you. He said your potential was wasted. The other day, in fact, we figured out why he thought this."
"He thinks I have no talent. He's told me it before. I know, Doc," Sun said, glancing over at a fitfully sleeping Redd.
"No. I'm positive he never said you had no talent. He just thinks it's wasted. He figured out that the way you're writing is completely wrong. Everything you write about is pure imagination. None of it is from the heart. You need to learn to incorporate the lessons you've learned in life to your writing. Once you do that, you should have no trouble being published."
Sun was staring out the window now, her eyes completely glazed over. Suddenly, she snapped out of it. Doc immediately noticed the determined look on her face.
"He was right. None of the things I write about come from my heart. I keep my heart locked away. The only one who's ever seen into it was Redd. Maybe that's why he always knew what I should write about," Sun said, still looking out the window. Now, she turned to look right at Redd. "Well, you finally got your wish, Redd. I'm going to write about what you've always wanted me to. I'm going to write about me. About you. About Doc and Annie. And all the newsgirls and newsboys."
Sun grabbed the papers from Doc and began to write on a nearby bunk. Doc smiled and silently left the room, knowing Sun wasn't meant to be interupted.
Sun sat feverishly at that bunk until the early hours in the morning. At just about four, exhaustion finally took its toll and she surrendered herself to sleep. She had been writing six hours straight and all she had managed to write about was her life in London. She hadn't even gotten to the point where she came to America.
Around noon, Doc came upstairs to check on Redd. He wasn't surprised to see Sun sleeping in a bunk near Redd. The upstairs light had been on when the last newsie went to bed downstairs. He figured she was up a few hours after that. Trying to stay quiet, he shook Redd.
"Wha... Doc, is that you?" Redd asked in a very weak voice. His eyes barely opened; they were so swollen.
"Yes, it's me, Redd. And Sun's here. She's laying in the bunk right next to you. Would you like me to wake her?"
Doc noted a very small, subtle motion of Redd's hand and took that as a yes. He shook Sun who awoke with a start.
"What? Doc! Is something wrong with Redd? What's the matter?" Sun jumped off the bed. "Redd!" she cried. "You're up. How are you feeling?"
"Better not that you're here," Redd muttered as his eyes slowly shut again.
"That's all we can expect from him now," Doc informed her. "He'll be in and out of consciousness. Just be happy you got to talk to him for these brief moments. How was your sleep?"
"Surprisingly nice. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some cleaning to do."
Sun ushered Doc out of the room and looked around. The first thing she did was take all the linens off the beds and the curtains off the windows. She put them in a basket and took them downstairs. She saw Star Bright talking to her boyfriend, Whiskers Harrison. She signaled Bright to come over.
"What are you doing here?" she asked. "Wait. That was a stupid question."
"Isn't that the only kind you ask?" Bright teased. "How's Redd?" she asked solemnly.
"He's doing okay. He slips in and out of consciousness. I don't know how long it will take for him to beat this thing. But let's not dwell on things we can't help. I came downstairs because I was hoping to see one of you girls here. I have these linens that need to be washed. I would do it myself but I really don't think leaving Redd at such a delicate time would be wise. So, could you take them back to the other house? I'm sure one of the girls will get bored and wash them for me."
"Of course," Bright said, taking the basket. "If no one else will, I'm sure Light will help me wash them."
Sun thanked Bright and went back upstairs to return to cleaning. The sooner she finished with that, the quicker her book will get done.
Weeks passed. Sun did the same monotonous things everyday. She frequently called in the newsgirls help for things that would require long periods of time or leaving the lodging house. All of them were really quite obliging and did anything that would help Sun and Redd out.
Meanwhile, at night, Sun returned to her writing. It was beginning to become a routine for her to write early into the morning and then sleep late. Doc never woke her unless Redd was up. He knew the poor girl was driving herself into exhaustion.
But one night, Sun suddenly stopped writing and looked down at the page. Laughing silently to herself, she whispered, "I'm done."
Sun had in fact wrote nearly two books. She had originally intended for it to be all one. But she decided it would be nicer if she kept the two parts apart. One was about her life before she settled into the Greenwich Lodging House, including her ten years of wandering around New York. The other was a collection of stories that each of the newsgirls had told her. There was the story of Lorelei and Limerick. There was the funny story of how Willow managed to get her newsie name. Then, of course, there was Broomstick and the whole "Tabitha" incident that she didn't really talk much about unless she was speaking of her boyfriend, Jeremy.
The book was full of story after story of things that Sun thought the common person would find interesting about the "fine life". Sun knew if she wanted to, she could write another five books on the lodging house alone. She just prayed in her heart someone would like these books. They were so easy for her to write and she knew that the ideas for them wouldn't end. She could keep going in the chronicles of her life and she could write book after book on all the funny newsie stories. Maybe someday she'd even go to Manhattan and make a book on the famous strike of 1899.
Day after day marked a new page of episodes in the newgirls' lives. On Monday, it was the whole episode when Mercy first came to the lodging house. Who would have imagined what she'd do to Dice? On Tuesday, the story of Dice and Spades tumbling down the stairs came out. They had been fighting and before either knew it, they were rolling right down to the main floor. On Wednesday, Sun wrote about all the horrible times the newsboys taught poor Snow some English. Snow didn't have a large vocabulary of English. So the guys liked to teach her words that aren't very nice or don't mean the correct thing. On Thursday, Sun wrote about the first time she met Redd. She was starving so she stole, not his wallet, not his gold watch, but about twenty papes. She swipped them right from underneath his arm. They ran around Greenwich for a while but she soon got away from him. On Friday, it was the story about the time Nightingale punched Spot and knocked him out cold. On Saturday, she told her most important story. She told about how a poor newsgirl found herself working for a prominent family in Greenwich.
By that Sunday, she had finished her book. Smiling to herself and over at Redd who was sleeping, she wrapped it up in brown paper and tied a string around it. Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the bunkroom door.
Sun yelled "Come in!" and the newest Greenwich newsgirl, Mist, entered the room.
"Hey, Mist," Sun said. "I'm glad you could find the time to come here. I needed to ask you a favor."
Mist looked at her in shock. She was after all the newest one and it was a common known fact that the new ones had to earn the others trust.
Sun chuckled at the look on Mist's face. "Don't look so surprised. Sometimes the new girls are the best ones to trust. See, I've been writing this book. It's all about the newsgirls. I need someone to take it to a publisher down on Samford Street. Now if I gave it to one of the older newsgirls, they would either read it themselves or blab about what I've done to the other girls. But, you. You won't do that."
"How can you be so sure?" Mist asked, not in a challenging way but more like she was just wondering.
"Well, you haven't been corrupted by the newsie life yet. Most newsgirls can't keep a secret. So, will you do it for me?"
"Absolutely," Mist said eagerly. She wanted to keep Sun's new-found trust in her. "I won't tell one person about it. I'll just go straight to Samford Street and then come back here to continue selling."
"Thanks so much," Sun said. She glanced at Redd bunk, where he was tossing in discomfort. "You know I'd do it myself if it wasn't for him."
"I know," Mist said. She grasped the brown paper package and started to walk out of the room, calling a small goodbye over her shoulder.
"Oh!" Sun cried, waving for Mist to come back. "I almost forgot. I have another package for you to take. But this one is something I can't tell you about. It's... Redd and I..."
"I understand," Mist said. "It's something for only you and Redd to know about before it gets published. I'll see you later." This time, Mist managed to make it out the door without Sun calling her back.
Sun got up from the desk she was sitting at and walked over to Redd. "Well, kid," she whispered. "You got me to write about what's in my heart. You just better hope Mr. Stevens likes it as much as you always thought he would."
Weeks passed. Sun didn't hear anything from Mr. Stevens so she could only assume her book never got published. It didn't worry her all that much. What did worry her was Redd. He had slowly gotten worse and worse. His throat had become so enflamed that Doc was surprised he hadn't just stopped breathing. No longer was he getting hot and cold flashes. Now he was just burning up with an inhumanly high temperature
One particular day, Sun was sitting on Redd's bunk with him, dabbing his face with a cool cloth. That was the only thing she could think of to make his fever not feel so hot. She could feel his slowly getting cooler.
After about a half hour of dabbing, she was interrupted by Forget-Me-Not.
"You shouldn't be here," Sun said. She was afraid that someone would catch scarlet fever from Redd now that it had gotten so bad.
"I know," Forget-Me-Not said honestly. "But I couldn't help it. We all knew you told us to stay away and not to even visit you. But a package came for you yesterday. Actually, two."
Forget-Me-Not slung the pack she had been carrying off of her shoulder. She pulled out two small rectangle boxes wrapped in brown paper.
"We weren't sure what they were, but they sure looked important," Forget-Me-Not said. "That's why I insisted that the girls let me come here. I thought you'd want to have them."
Sun took the packages out of Forget-Me-Not's hands. The two bunkmates sat down on the bunk next to Redd. Forget-Me-Not watched in anticipation as Sun opened the package. She was quite surprised when Sun started screaming, "Oh my god! Look!"
When Forget-Me-Not had gotten Sun to settle down, she asked a question, "What's so special about two books?"
"Not just any two books," Sun said, her face beaming. "Read the titles and author."
"Redd And Sun by Illyana Keller," Forget-Me-Not said, looking at the first book. "The Greenwich Newsgirls Volume I by Illyana Keller."
That's all Forget-Me-Not said. She was in shock. The author of these two published books was someone she saw everyday. When she did find the strength to speak, she whispered, "When did you write these?"
"The whole time I've been living here at the boys lodging house, I've been writing. It just sent them in to be published a few weeks ago. I never dreamed Mr. Stevens would actually want to publish them."
"Well he did, my young authoress friend. Do you want me to go spread the news to the rest of the girls?"
"Of course you can," Sun said. "I didn't tell you guys what I was doing because I didn't want you guys to be let down if nothing got published. But now that it is, I want everyone to know. Tell the newgirls and the newsboys. Tell Annie and Doc. Tell all the newsies in every part of the city. I want everyone to know that Illyana "Sun" Keller has accomplished her dream."
Forget-Me-Not smiled and ran out the door, leaving Sun to her thoughts.
Sun sat in the same spot not moving for a good few minutes. She was still in shock herself. She knew that these books were easier to write and meant a lot more to her. She just never dreamed they'd be good enough to show the world.
"Good thing, Redd always set me straight on what was my true calling," Sun muttered to herself. Then, she realized what she had said. "Redd!" she yelled.
Grabbing the book "Redd And Sun", she ran over to his bunk.
"C'mon, Redd," she hissed. "Wake up for me just this once. I have something really important to tell you. I need you to wake up."
To her surprise, Redd's eyes popped right open and he groaned.
"Shhhh. It's okay," Sun said, returning to a whisper. "I just wanted you to see something. Look. It's my book. I've been published. Can you believe it?"
Redd shook his head slightly and grimaced in pain.
"You knew it was going to hurt if you moved," Sun scolded. "But no scolding now. I'm too happy. I also got another book published. It was all about the adventures of us Greenwich newgirls. I guess you were right when you always told me what I needed to write about to get published."
Redd smiled and tapped his fingers on the book Sun had set down beside him. Sun grinned and picked it up. Turning each page slowly, she found the dedication page.
"Here let me read it to you." She cleared her throat and began.
To my dear friend, Redd You've always been a joy to be around even when we were fighting. If it wasn't for you, I don't know where I'd be. You are my courage and strength. I can't live without you.
Sun was surprised to see that, when she looked up from the book, there were tears welling up in Redd's eyes. Sun gave him a hug and slowly pulled back.
"Go back to sleep now," she whispered. "You need your rest if you're ever to get better."
Redd nodded and drifted back into his normal state of unconsciousness. Now Sun was the one who had tears in her eyes. She really hated seeing him in such a state. He was so sad and helpless. If anyone had asked her right that minute what her one wish in the whole wide world was, she would have immediately said all she wanted was to have her Redd back again.
Feeling a little exhausted, Sun laid down on Redd's bunk. As her eyes slowly fell shut, she looked towards the doorway where she could make out a dark figure. Pushing the thought of getting up and seeing who it was to the back of her mind, she let herself drift away.
The next morning she woke up to the feeling that she was on fire. Looking around the room, she saw Doc and a woman she couldn't quite identify, because her eyes were so blurry, standing, talking in a corner. They looked as if something were the matter. She wildly looked around the room. Her eyes fell on Redd's bunk which was now empty.
Doc turned around to see Sun staring at the bunk. He rushed to her side and pushed her back down onto the bed.
"Settle down, Sun," he whispered. "Redd is fine. Last night, he took a turn for the better. He actually had the strength to feed himself this morning. Which is more than I can say for you. You've got the flu, Sun. I had one of the boys get Annie here," he said as he pointed to the woman. "She's going to walk you back to the girls' lodging house in a few minutes. I'm sorry to have to tell you this Sun but you can't be around Redd."
Sun just looked up at Doc with a questioning gaze.
"He'll catch your flu very easily. His immune system is very weak because of the fever. You'll be fine in a week or two. By that time, Redd will be up and about. You two can return to your normal lived."
Sun nodded and tried to stand up. She made it halfway across the bunkroom before faltering. Annie was there give Sun a shoulder to lean on. Together, the two of them started their way out the door. Doc sent Watcher and Legend after the two women to make sure they made it the whole way to the house safely.
Bidding the two newsboys goodbye, Annie walked into the lodging house. She was pratically carrying Sun by now.
"Oh my gosh! What's the matter?" Dice cried as she saw the incapacitated newsgirl.
"Nothing that bad. Sun seems to have caught the flu that's been circulating. She probably got it from Forget-Me-Not." Forget-Me-Not had just gotten over the flu herself. "But Doc thought it would be better for her to stay away from Redd. That way she wouldn't get him sick while he's in such a weak state."
"But he's getting better, right?" Nova asked.
"Yes, he seems to have gotten through the worst of scarlet fever. He should be completely back to normal in a few months. It takes time, you know, to regain all that strength."
The newsgirls nodded. Spades and Nightingale helped Annie take Sun upstairs. They laid her down in her bunk, which hadn't been slept in since she left. They all quietly left her so she could get the sleep she needed.
Another few weeks past and Sun was finally getting better. She had gotten the flu much worse than Forget-Me-Not. Probably because she had spread herself so thin with the book and caring for Redd. But she finally found herself able to walk without feeling faint.
Smiling to herself as thoughts of Redd rushed through her brain, she got dressed and slowly but surely made her way downstairs. Waiting for her were a good number of the newsgirls.
"Glad to see you up!" shouted Cricket from her poker game.
"Thanks. I'm glad to be up," Sun said as she sat down in an arm chair. She didn't want to overexert herself.
The girls went back to their daily routine as if it was everyday that Sun got over the flu and finally made it downstairs to civilization. But they were soon interrupted by Annie.
"You have a visitor, Sun," Annie called from her spot at the front desk. From that spot, she could see the front door and a bit of the street.
Almost as she finished calling, Redd walked into the lodging house. He tipped his hat to all the newsgirls and smiled at Sun. Sun stood up and walked over to him.
"You're looking very healthy," she commented on his appearance.
"I guess I just made up my mind I wasn't gonna to let it lick me," Redd replied simply. "Do you want to go for a stroll? It looks like you could use some fresh air."
"You, too," Sun said and chuckled. "But I don't know if I should take that long of a walk. How about down to our park and back?"
"That's fine with me," Redd said.
He offered her his arm and she waved as they left the lodging house. A few girls waved back. But most were pretending that they weren't really paying attention. The two of them walked in silence almost the whole way to the park. When it was finally in sight, Redd broke the silence.
"I'm glad you came back when you did, 'Yana."
Sun shivered at the use of his nickname for her. She hadn't heard it in so long that it had begun to stir up her nerves like the old days when she insisted that no one call her by her real name. When she got the job at the Marshalls, she kind of abadoned that idea.
Redd continued, "It really meant a lot to me." He paused for a moment as they walked onto a bridge crossing a small stream. He stopped halfway over it. "I finally read your book. It's a fine piece of work. I knew you could do it."
"Mr. Stevens is already asking about a second edition," Sun said with a giggle. "It took me a long time but now I realize you were right."
Redd smiled at her. Suddenly, the look on Sun's face changed and she looked down at the ground, suddenly serious.
"I'm not going back to my governess job at Gregory Marshalls. I'm staying at the lodging house so that I can write full time."
"Governessing too hard on you?" Redd asked, the teasing evident in his voice.
"No, it's just I've come to realize something about myself. I figured out it matters not what I hold in this world but what I've brought to it. The things dearest to my heart are right here in the "newsie section" of Greenwich."
"Well, I hope you keep that thought and never lose it." Redd passed for a moment, then grabbed Sun's hand. "I know we're still young. I don't even have a real job that would support me. Even when I do get one, there won't be any grand balls or pretty jewelry."
Sun looked up at Redd and smiled. "I don't want balls or jewelry. I just want you."
Redd brought his hand up to Sun's face and brushed her cheek. She looked up into his eyes and saw the love she felt for him mirrored right back at her. Redd slowly lowered his face to hers until their lips gently brushed. Sun started to giggle.
"What now?" Redd said.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Sun said between fits of laughter. "It's just, who would have thought? You and me, kissing in this park. I never thought this would happen."
"I do believe you told me that not too long ago," Redd reminded her, refering to the last time he had proposed.
"So what now?" Sun asked.
"We're way too young to get married now. I mean, I don't want to give up being a newsie right now."
"And I don't want to leave the comfort of Annie's lodging house for a lonely little apartment."
"So, we'll wait. We'll wait until the day we both feel it's time to move on from this chapter of our life."
"Agreed," Sun said smiling up at him again. "But it will come one day."
"Guaranteed," Redd said as he leaned down to kiss her again.
0 notes
viviennevivisection · 2 years
Text
Session 11 Notes “Wings of Fate” (5/11/22)
-Neither Kitt nor Sterling picked up following Kitt's "Help" text message -Naomi and Cass hop on Cass' motorcycle, Vivienne and Watts take an Uber XL -Lights are...dim inside the the Vanguard Warehouse -Large cargo trucks are parked outside -The gate house (where Kitt usually is) is empty -Someone...ran through the gate? It was broken but with like...a person sized hole if I remember correctly? -The front door was wide open -Cass investigated Kitt's booth and slayed the roll -The stool was knocked was over -Things are uncharacteristically messy -Kitt keeps track of everyone who comes in and leaves the Warehouse by doodling little pictures of them. I cry -Danny Wright was the last person they admitted to the Warehouse -Vivienne spider climbed the building to the Fire Escape and let the others up -- upon entering no alarm went off despite there being one being installed. Upon examination, it looks like the wire had been cut sometime in the recent past. Someone has likely been using this as an entrance for a little while -I fucking BUNGLED the entrance stealth roll. It literally could not have been worse -There was a faint blue glow coming from the loading bay -The shelves are all emptied, it seems like they were in the process of taking my suggestion to pick and move the operation -Danny Wright and Sterling are talking in hushed tones, but Danny is wearing nice shoes...
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-He also doesn't have his briefcase and is holding Sterling's Heart in his hand -STERLING HAS BEEN CRYING? -Danny is also laying almost dead in Sterling's office -Naomi snuck over to the office and healed Real Danny -Nice Shoes Danny is dripping in transmutation magic, asked us to turn a blind eye to him destroying the warehouse -We played along with him for a second, and he asked us to sign a contract and said: "Ms. Miller...I believe we already have your information on file." -I went to shake his hand to seal the deal and hit him with the inflict wounds -I got Sterling's heart back almost immediately, and Sterling ran to check on Danny -IT'S Mira !!!!! -Mira has robot wings! -Once again Sarah asked Alex "what power she's channeling" -- implying Naomi can channel more than one power -Naomi channeled Dark Naomi in order to fully fly -Cass, as always, lit her ass up -Once Mira was looking bad, Vivienne hit her with the sleep/rope combo -Mira's wings are attached to her body -- hard to rip off and they are not...divine -The wings are also made with The Dodder Corp parts -Viv slit Mira's throat, collect her blood in the Vytrian Chalice, cast spare the dying on Mira, and asked Vytris about the blood --> rolling a 27 -Vytris showed us a little movie confirming that Mira was the Bird Person having flown Dr. Florence Halloway from her office in Session 1 -Mira threw a vial that exploded like a smoke bomb to infect Phoebe with the Arcane Virus -Mira disguised as a basic business man (Danny's boss, maybe?) gave Danny her broken phone that made it to us -DANNY AND STERLING SMOOCH #CONFIRMED
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-We learned this because when Mira arrived disguised as Danny, she smooched Sterling...weird -Mira was wearing a necklace, had collected everyone's phone (including Kitt's), an extra vial of arcane virus, and a silver ring that Cass took off and examined, prompting Alex and I to leave the table for quite a bit -The robots were locked in the basement, Mira was intending to burn the place down and let them die in the fire -But we gathered everyone and fled the Warehouse -Sterling took us to some rat tunnels -Mira is ... not infected with the virus -We slept in the rat tunnel with the bubble -Upon waking up, I zone of truthed Mira and we questioned her -Mira's main motivation is wanting to be successful -Cass read her DOWN and the light left her eyes -- "her spark" dimmed -Mira made a weird comment to Sterling -- something along the lines of "Is there where you took them? When you ran? evil laugh" -Mira wouldn't name any names -They were trying to make the "older models" (like Sterling?) divine, but have pivoted from that -Vivienne sawed off Mira's wings, killing her -Bird Person Person Arc, concluded
0 notes
gaysimpsstuff · 3 years
Text
Accidentally Injuring Their Partner PT. 2
Part One Here
Y’all- the last one is like, my most popular post. As I’m currently writing this, it’s literally almost at 1K notes so... yeah. This one needed a lot of thought and effort if it’s going to meet people’s expectations. 
Please read the note I added at the end of the fic
Genre: angst
Type: drabbleshot
Warnings: gore, mentions of hospitals, crying, cursing, toxic relationships, self blame, some real ‘who cares how I feel, how do you feel?’ kind of unhealthy vibes, hazbin hotel reference (found in Todoroki’s section), talking down on oneself,
Other: this was requested multiple times, but this bitch was planning it before it was requested haha I’m so cool no I’m not I still feel like shit lmao. 
Angst Taglist: @smolchildfangirl @combat-wombatus @mandalorian-baby-bird @waffleareniceandfluffy @catcherisvibin @thesubtlewhore
Tomura Shigaraki
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It was really all he could do to stare at you.
You’d moved from the theatre to an abandonment hospital, mostly to find any leftover supplies to help with your arm, or rather, lack thereof.
You’d only sort of expected this. Tomura lashing out at you, you getting hurt, you just didn’t expect it to result in you loosing a fucking arm.
Toga was helping to change your bandages, and Magne was speaking quietly with Twice, Spinner, and Compress.
Dabi was speaking with Shigaraki outside the room, and you couldn’t hear what they were saying. You were glad, you didn’t exactly want to hear his voice right now.
You didn’t think you were being that annoying, you thought you were just helping him. And you usually did. When he’d have his little tantrums, he’d get upset at you sure, but he’d never hurt you.
You knew you didn’t do anything differently than usual, maybe he was just more stressed than ordinary? Maybe you should’ve recognized that and altered yourself to fit accordingly.
Or maybe he’d just been horrible, and attacked you for no reason, and you had just been trying to help him.
You knew it was more likely the latter, but you couldn’t help but blame yourself. People don’t just try to kill their partners that they love so much
The door slid open, and Dabi stepped in. He glanced around the room, waving his hand to usher Magne, Spinner, Twice, and Compress out of the room. Today stood up, but you grabbed her hand.
Dabi pushed the door open a little wider, and your boyfriend stepped inside. For once, you were glad he had that horrible hand in his face, you knew that if he took it off you’d probably vomit.
“Call us in if you need anything.” Dabi offered uncharacteristically, sliding the door shut behind him.
Everything was quiet.
Not even the people in the hallway wanted to say anything.
He slowly walked towards you, pulling up a chair and sitting down.
You sat cross-legged on the creaky hospital bed, staring at him as Toga held your hand.
“Why are you here?” You asked quietly.
“I- I um. Why is she here?” Tomura ignored your question, pointing to Toga next to you.
“She’s here because she chopped off my arm after you dusted it. She’s here because she saved my life. Why are you here, Tomura?”
One of his hands lifted to his neck, scratching lightly.
“Shit- I didn’t want anyone else in here-“
“Why not? Don’t want anyone to see you loose yourself and hurt me more? Don’t want anyone here to save me?” You snapped.
“You- you know I didn’t mean it-“
“It doesn’t matter if you meant it or not, Shigaraki.” He flinched away when you spat out his last name like that. “I still got hurt. I lost a fucking arm because of you. How horrible are you that you have to cover up your own insecurities by trying to kill me? No really, I could have died.”
“I’m sorry!” He exclaimed, nails digging deeper into his neck. “I love you, okay? And I promised I’d protect you so-“
“So you broke your promise in the worst way possible.” You swung your legs over the side of the bed, squeezing Toga’s hand before letting go. You walked up to Shigaraki, lifting your hand and gripping his shoulder tightly.
“I’m going.” You whispered. “I can’t be around you. I still have family outside the League, friends that aren’t villains. I can build myself a semi-normal life. I’ll be happy without you.” You turned back to Toga, offering her a smile. “You can come over whenever you want, you’re my friend.” You headed towards the door.
You paused when you heard a soft noise, like a gargled scream. You turned around, seeing Shigaraki shaking.
“No, no please no- don’t go!” He spun around, grabbing your shoulders. You shoved him off you in an instant, curling into yourself
“GET OFF ME!” You screamed. But he was already launching himself at you again, you saw his palm flying towards your face. This time, it wasn’t an accident.
And you knew you wouldn’t make it out this time.
You were pulled back by a strong force, realizing Magne was holding you tight. Compress and Dabi were on either side of Shigaraki, holding him back, while Twice had ran to Toga.
“No! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! Please don’t leave me!” He screamed, the hand fell loose on his face, tumbling down to the floor. You turned away, not wanting to see him.
You could only imagine his expression.
“Goodbye, Shigaraki.” You whispered, ducking out of Magne’s grip and rubbing off.
“Goodbye.”
Touya Todoroki/ Dabi
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It had been a week since he’d seen you, a week since he’d felt your hands on his. A week since he’d heard your voice. A week since he’d seen your smile.
A week since he’d burned you.
Called you inferior.
Threatened to kill you.
Well there was certainly a reason why he hadn’t gone to see you since the incident.
But...
He missed you.
He felt so guilty, knowing what he’d said and done to you, and he needed to see you.
Maybe he was just being selfish.
Maybe he knew he’d done something wrong.
Maybe he needed to call you.
He flipped his phone upside down, then right side up again on the counter of the bar.
Toga sat on a stool next to him, tapping her hands against the marble in boredom.
“So... what’s up with you?” She asked, cocking her head and glancing at him.
“Like I’m telling a brat like you.” He growled, flipping his phone over again.
“You’ve been off all week!” She exclaimed, leaning towards him. “Somethings happened to you.”
“If i tells you a little, will you shut up?”
“Mhm mhm!”
“Ughhhhh fine. I had a fight with someone close to me. I... I really hurt them. I know it. I haven’t spoken to them in a week.”
“So... Dabi has a soft spot?”
“That’s not the point of this. Also say that again and I’ll kill you.”
“Oookay then. You should just call them. Say something to them and apologize.” She offered with a shrug.
Dabi sighed, pressing his face into his hands.
“They don’t want to talk to me. Trust me on that.”
“Welp- that’s just my advice. Cent for my thoughts kind of thing except you didn’t pay me. You owe me a penny.”
Toga shrugged, hopping off the chair and leaving the room.
“Don’t owe you shit.” Dabi grumbled, glowering down at his phone again. He pulled up your contact, staring at the picture he’d set for you.
You had a bright smile, emoji hearts decorating your cheeks. It was from your first ‘date.’ When you’d hung out at your place after he broke in looking for shelter and food.
You’d taken care of him, let his spend the night, and even offered to let him stay whenever he needed to.
You were an Angel on earth.
And he’d burnt you.
Called you dirty.
And selfish.
You were anything but.
Ring
Ring
Ring
“Why the hell are you calling me?”
“I-“
“Dabi. Why are you calling me? You hate me, don’t you?”
“I don’t hate you...”
“Jeez, coulda fooled me.”
“Baby...”
“Don’t call me that.”
“I- I didn’t mean it.” He choked out. “Everything I said, I didn’t mean it. And I-“
“I really don’t care. The doctors said my arms would scar. I’m burnt and scarred like you. Are you happy? Is that what you wanted to achieve? Make me like you so that no one would want me? So that only you could have me?”
Yes
“No! I never wanted to hurt you, ba- Y/n please,”
“Please what? Please what, Dabi? What do you want from me? Huh? You want me to cradle you and say is all going to be okay? You want me to kiss your scars and tell you you’re beautiful? You want me to suck your dick and tell you I love you? After everything you’ve put me through?”
“I-“
“It’s not just you burning me. You’ve left me for days without contact, and then showed up like nothing’s happened! You’ve hit me and then groveled and cried for my mercy! You’ve made me do so much shit for you in bed that I never wanted to do! Our entire relationship, I was scared you’d get sick of me and kill me!”
“You really thought that?”
“Well guess what motherfucker? You can’t come after me! I’ve told the police what happened. Everything between us. They’re helping me move across the country. You’ll never see me again. Happy?”
“No. No no I’m not happy why would I be happy? You made me happy, when I didn’t even know what the word meant, you don’t have to go through with this, please don’t go through with this!”
“Don’t flatter me. I never made you happy. Nothing could make you happy except watching the world burn. I don’t make you happy, Dabi-“
“Yes you do!”
“Just shut up. I’m going to hang up. If I’m being honest... I’ll miss you. You made me happy. But with so much anger and fear surrounding you, it’s hard to even remember the last time we were happy together.”
“I’m... I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
Beep
Beep
Beep
You were gone.
Shouto Todoroki
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If you thought Shouto was quiet before, you should see him now, wait, you were seeing him now, in class, eyes boring into your spine.
You still had a large bandage on your face, being hit in the face with plus added fire power is bound to leave a mark that lasts for over three days.
Did I mention it had been three days now?
It’s very hard to ignore Shouto, seeing as you were in the same class and lived in the same dorms. 
Plus everyone in class wanted to know what happened between the two of you, why Shouto seemed so down, why you had the bandage on your face, and if it was all connected.
You’d only told one person what had gone down between the two of you, and that was Bakugou.
Which maybe was a mistake, because he took to trying to fight Todoroki every time he saw him, and repeatedly told you that he ‘fuckin knew that icy-hot bastard was a good-for-nothing bag of of poorly packaged horse shit.’
You appreciated his comfort, but it hurt you every time he said something about Todoroki.
“I don’t get why you’re defending the scumbag. His hand hasn’t even healed off your face yet!” 
You and Bakugou were heading to the dorms after class, and he had gone on his usual tangent about how Todoroki did this, Todoroki did that, Todoroki was an asshole, etc etc.
“I mean... he’s technically still my boyfriend. And he’s been nothing but kind to me up until this point. He just... he was stressed, and I was being a bother. I’m sure the injury will fade at some point, then he’ll talk to me again and we can get back to normal.” you shrugged, rubbing at the back of your neck. “We’ll be fine.”
“You know what you are? A pushover.” Bakugou glared at you. 
“Wha- I am not! Where did you get that idea?” 
“Oh I don’t know, maybe from the fact that You forget to check in with how you feel and keep thinking only about that Half n Half bastard! ‘Oh, he must be so upset with himself!’ Fuck that! How do you feel?” 
You kept your eyes on the ground, speeding up. Bakugou grabbed your sleeve, tugging you backwards. His hands found your shoulders, thumbs rubbing soft circles. Your breath hitched, did Shouto ever do this for you? 
Not that you could remember.
“I feel... nervous.” you admitted. “I’m nervous that he meant what he said to me. That I’m nothing but a bother to him. I’m nervous that he’ll never come and talk to me, never apologize. I’m worried that if he does talk to me, he’ll think it was my fault. It wasn’t was it?”
You looked up at Bakugou warily, and squeaked when he tightened his grip on your shoulders.
“The fuck? Of course it’s not! Idiot.” he poked your forehead, and you couldn’t help but giggle a little. “Keep talking.”
“Um... I’m...” you took a deep breath. “I’m angry. I’m angry that he hasn’t talked to me. I’m angry about what he said. I’m angry that he even hit me to begin with. If we were training, of course it’d be different, but we weren’t training. And he hurt me. And now I’m doubting everything between us.”
Bakugou was silent, Cardinal eyes met yours. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, and for a moment, you feared Bakugou would try to blow your ass up for being a pathetic little weakling.
I mean... compared to people like Todoroki and Bakugou, you were right?
Bakugou took a step forward, pulling you into his arms. You held your breath, wondering if he was going to finally snap and kill you. 
But... it felt nice. 
You lifted your arms, wrapping them around his body and tugging him a little closer. You buried your face into his uniform shirt, body shaking a little as you cried.
You almost wanted to scream, but then the school would panic.
So you just cried, sobbing into his arms and letting him hold you. His embrace was war and comforting, nothing like you’d felt from your so-called boyfriend.
Maybe he was right, maybe you really shouldn’t try to think about him.
You did deserve better.
You sniffled, pulling off Bakugou with a soft smile.
“Thanks, Bakugou. I really needed that. And you’re right.”
“What was that second thing?”
“You’re right.”
“Hmmm?” Bakugou cupped a hand around his ear, feigning deafness.
“Oh my goodness- I said you’re right!”
“That’s it.” he patted you on the shoulder, proud smirk traced across his features. You chuckled. “Now you’re going to tell that to Mr. Daddy Issues and get the fuck over him.” 
“Alright, but you’re coming with me!” he nodded, keeping his hand on your shoulder as you returned to the dorms, heading to his dorm.
You paused just outside his door, knocking lightly. Bakugou was a few feet behind you, out of the way, but close enough to step in if something were to happen.
The door swung open slowly, revealing a bored-looking Todoroki. WHen his eyes landed on you, he jumped a little, taking a step back. His hand tightened around the doorknob, his other hand gripping his pants
“Y-Y/n-“ he stuttered, eyes flickering between you and Bakugou. “I-“
“We need to talk.”
“Listen I- I’m sorry!” He exclaimed.
“Todoroki, I don’t think you get it. ‘Sorry’ doesn’t cut it. You might have scarred me, so your one mistake might stay with me my whole life!”
“I know.” His head drooped, and his grip on his pants loosened. “I know. I’m- I’m just like him.”
“Him?”
“I promised I was nothing like him but here we fucking are!”
“Shoto what are you talking about?”
“I’m the worst kind of person!”
“No!”
Shouto looked up, eyes brimming with tears. You took a few steps forward, taking his face into your hands.
“I’m sorry.” You whispered “it was an accident, and you didn’t mean it. Please don’t talk about yourself like that.”
Bakugou grabbed you, yanking you away from him
“Uh, what the fuck? You came here to sever ties with him, not fucking comfort him!”
“Look at him, Bakugou. He needs me.”
“Y/n-“
“Trust me.” You smiled at Bakugou, pushing him away from you slowly before turning back to Shouto. You took the boy into your arms, rocking back and forth with him.
You ignored the heavy feeling in your chest, and the screams your brain slew ar you to get off of him, get away from him, and let Bakugou protect you.
You ignored logic, emotion, and all better judgement.
For this boy who’d hit you.
But Bakugou would end up being right, he was smart.
You’ll see.
Katsuki Bakugou/ Dynamight
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Shit wrong Pomeranian
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That’s better
Katsuki stood outside Recovery Girl’s room, waiting for Kirishima to come out and tell him what was going on.
He was chewing on his nails, foot tapping against the ground as he stared at the door. He could hear people moving around and talking inside.
He couldn’t get the sound of your screaming out of his head, the large dark patch that formed on your skin around your face, the way you just... fell.
The door slid open, and Bakugou stared forward and Kirishima stepped out, smiling and thanking Recovery Girl.
Bakugou was on his feet in an instant, grabbing Kirishima’s arm.
“How are they? Do they hate me? Can I see them?” He rambled, Kirishima gently pushing Bakugou off him.
“Uh, they’re fine for the most part, they haven’t said anything about you at all, and ask Recovery Girl.” He said, backing off down the hall as Bakugou stared helplessly after him.
“You uh- you might want to apologize. They are really upset.” Kirishima told him, quickly running off down the hall. Bakugou faced towards the room, stepping inside.
A cyan curtain blocked him from seeing you, and he heard shuffling behind it. It slid open, Recovery Girl stepping out. She looked up and saw Bakugou.
She wacked his leg with her needle/cane, and he yelped, stumbling backwards.
“You have no shame!” she snapped. “With what you did to them, you should be cowering outside right now!”
“Shhh!” Bakugou pressed up against the wall. “Do you want them to know I’m here?”
“Are you that clueless?” she grumbled, pulling herself up into her chair. “They’ve gone temporarily deaf.” Bakugou froze, glancing back at the curtain.
He’d blown up your eardrums.
He felt Recovery Girl press something into his hands, and he glanced down. 
It was a small whiteboard, with a pen and washcloth.
This was how he’d have to talk to you.
On a fucking whiteboard.
RG pulled the curtains aside, revealing you.
You were laying in the bed, half your face wrapped up in bandages, hands resting on your lap.
“Y/n...” he murmured. You remained still, staring out the window. Bakugou cleared his throat, and you still didn’t react.
“They can’t hear you, remember?” RG shook her head, waddling over to the other side of your bed, pointing at Bakugou. He watched your face slowly turn, before his eyes shot away from you, staring at the ground.
He heard you swallow, and you let out a soft whimper.
Were you scared of him?
Bakugou lifted the whiteboard, quickly scribbling some kanji on it 
ごめんなさい (Translation: I am sorry)
You reached forward, taking the whiteboard from him and erasing his words, putting your own down instead.
分かってる。(Translation: I know)
Bakugou pursed his lips, fidgeting with his shirt before he watched you put more writing down
どうして?(Translation: Why?)
Bakugou reached out, taking the whiteboard back, quickly putting down his excuse explanation
私は弱いと感じました。 じゃあ霧島を助けてくれたんだ。 うらやましくなってきた (Translation: I felt weak. Then you helped Kirishima. I got Jealous)
お許しください (Translation: Please forgive me.)
He handed you the whiteboard back, tapping his foot against the ground. You passed it back to him, and he hurridly read your response.
私はそれについて考えます (Translation: I’ll think about it.)
He had a chance. His eyes finally lifted off the whiteboard, landing on you.
The visible part of your face looked exactly the same, although there was a large bandage on your ear. Your eye looked sad, fearful, and nervous. You had a shaky smile on your face, trying to make him feel better.
You were always thinking about him.
それは再び起こらないだろう (Translation: It won’t happen again)
You sighed, smile falling.
本気?(Translation: Are you sure?)
Bakugou felt his heart drop into his stomach.
Well of fucking course you didn’t trust him, look what he’d done to you!
おっしゃる通りです。. もうお前を放っておいてやる さようなら、y/n。(Translation: You are right. I will leave you alone now. Goodbye, y/n.)
He stood up, leaving the whiteboard on your bed. He headed towards the door, with his hands stuffed into his pockets. He ignored the soft cry of your voice, surprised he was leaving.
He ignored the way you managed to choke out his name in a warbly, unsure voice.
He slid the door shut behind him, slumping against it and sliding down until he sat on the cold ground. He buried his face into his arms, finally allowing himself to cry.
He wasn’t going to try and talk to you, he resolved. He wasn’t going to bother you or scare you.
He’d keep you safe by refusing to talk to him.
He’d let the author end the fanfiction right then and there.
The door slid open behind him, and he flopped backwards, staring up at your face. You were holding the whiteboard.
オマンコにならないでください。 事故だったのは分かってる 頑張って俺を捕まえるのか諦めるのか? どんなヒーローがあきらめるだろうか?
(Translation: Don't be a pussy. I know it was an accident. Are you going to work hard and get me or give up? What kind of hero would just give up?)
A smirk slowly spread across his face. Yeah, he’d work hard. He’d never scare you or hurt you again. He’d do better.
He’d be the best boyfriend.
And he’d accept your help to stand up next to you.
=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=
After fic note: ohmygod I’m finally finished. This took fucking forever. You loved part one so much, I had to make sure part two was perfect.
Some of these ended in heartbreak
Another ended in a questionable descision
The last ended happily
All of them are different! 
I hope you get my references, and appreciate the Japanese Kanji I put in Bakugou’s part (if any of it is inaccurate, please let me know so I can try my best to fix it. I don’t speak or write Japanese, I used this translator to get what I needed). 
I worked hard on this, so if y’all could tell me what you like and dislike about this so I can improve my writing, that would be lovely. Don’t be afraid to pop a comment or pop into my ask box, I do my best to respond to every comment and ask, so don’t worry about being ignored.
I love all of you, and I’m so glad to be able to write for you.
Thanks for all of your support, I promise I’ll work hard on all of my drafts to make sure you get entertainment constantly! 
5K notes · View notes
griffintail · 3 years
Text
The Lost Ones
Summary: Several of the SMP members find an infant in a place they didn’t expect and decide to care for them.
Pairings: Platonic! Parental! Tommy, Wilbur, Philza, Technoblade, Eret, and Dream x F! Child! Reader
Next
Warnings! : Swearing, Village Raid, Minor Violence, Minor Deaths (Mostly mobs), mentions of blood
A/N : I’m the biggest sap for child readers. Dating back to 2014. I literally couldn’t help myself. Just so everyone knows, I suck at writing in gender neutral terms, that’s why the reader is specifically female in all of these (Including Tommy’s, Minor Spoiler, Tommy’s just an idiot and doesn’t look). So, sorry about that.
I’ll most certainly will make more of these. I won’t always have it just like this, I might write a certain character individually in a scenario. It’s all dependent on my mood. I might add more characters! This is just basically the introduction. So yeah...ENOUGH RAMBLING! Hope you enjoy :)
       Tommy (Before the First Disc War)
        Tommy smirked proudly to himself as he tucked his new disc safely into his inventory bag before starting the walk back to his home. His adventure was successful, he managed to get a rare disc and it was now all his. Walking through the small bit of woods, he rested his hand on his sword handle. It was still night time after all and the monsters were out to play.
        As he could see the lights from the small town of the Dream SMP, he heard a cry. Looking back into the woods, he frowned before grinning.
        Someone is in trouble! He’d save them and get a payment—er— “willing reward” from them. Pulling his sword, he ran over towards the sound of another cry, this time the sound being continued. He rolled his eyes, someone was crying, what a pussy. As the crying was practically on top of him, he frowned in confusion as he only found a skeleton, which was trying to shoot at a basket hanging in a tree. There was no one there to be crying.
        He shrugged regardless, taking his shield off before going for the skeleton. It only managed one arrow before Tommy killed the mob. Looking at the basket, Tommy hummed before putting his weapon and shield away to climb up. As he got to a safe place to reach the basket, the crying now made sense as his eyes went wide.
        “You’re a fucking baby!” He shouted in surprise.
        Said infant noticed the new face and their wails quieted, but small cries still came out.
        “Quiet down. You’re going to bring monsters!” He hushed, moving carefully, getting the basket off, and brought it to himself. “How the hell did you get up here? Who just leaves a baby?”
        He looked down at the baby as he sat back in the tree. He couldn’t help but think how small she was, had he been that small when he was this young?
        “Guess you got nowhere to go huh?” He asked as the child looked up, their cries having gone silent seeing the boy much closer.
        They played with their blanket and he hummed as he held the basket close, making his way down the tree.
        “You’re lucky, a big man saved you! I don’t live far, so you’ll come with me. Of course, I wouldn’t just leave you here again.” Tommy rambled, despite knowing the infant couldn’t respond back. “I’m not some kind of monster!”
        He made it back to his home, putting the basket on his bed, and looked down at the baby with his hands on his hips.
        “If you were left out there like that, you’re alone.” This time, the baby gave a small babble and he couldn’t help the small smile that came on his face. “Well, then I’ll take care of you! I’m a big man and can do it easy! Phil took care of my brothers and me after all and he’s old and stupid. I’m young and very wise, so I can do it. I suppose you’ll need a name now.”
        If anyone had been in the room with Tommy, they’d be surprised how gentle he picked up the small human. Carefully, he held them properly, only knowing how as Phil had once shown him when they were helping a village out after a raid when he had taken the younger boy to trade.
        “Hmm, I’ll call you (Y/N)!” He decided. “And I will be the greatest father ever! And I know the perfect way to celebrate today!”
        Going into his bag, he grinned as he pulled out his new music disc. Putting it on the jukebox, he sat on his bed as the infant looked over at the object making the beautiful sound. His grin went into a gentle smile as he watched (Y/N) listen to the music. They’d both be happy; he’d make sure of it.
        Twenty Minutes Later…
        Tubbo sprinted down the stairs of his house as he heard frantic knocking on his door and the sound of crying. Swinging the door open, he let out a startled noise seeing a distressed Tommy holding a wailing baby.
        Of course, he’d need some help since there was just a little bit of a learning curve.
          Wilbur (Right after Declaration of War)
        Times were hard. Wilbur had just started a new nation to free himself, his friends, and his family from the iron grip of Dream and his friends, but they did not like the loss of power and declared war on him. As well as the war, Fundy had become a rather rebellious teenager and Wilbur wasn’t sure how to handle all of it. He didn’t let it show to the others though. He’d be a strong leader for them.
        He looked over his map of L’Manberg. They needed better defensive points…they fought with their words but Dream fought with weapons of destruction. They needed safe spaces to protect themselves…
        Wilbur jumped, knocking over an ink bottle over on the table when there was pounding on the van door.
        “Damn it.” He grumbled, quickly flipping the bottle back up and moved the map out of the way before going to the door.
        He opened the door to see Eret standing there, making Wilbur raise an eyebrow as Eret was on guard duty at the moment but looked shocked seeing what the other man was holding.
        “Hello, sir. They were just outside the gate. I didn’t see anyone else around.” Eret rapidly explained to his leader, the small infant wiggling in his hold. “I brought them here because they were cold.”
        “Get inside,” Wilbur instructed, going into the back of the van again quickly.
        He heard the door close as he grabbed his spare coat.
        “Hand them over,” Wilbur muttered, Eret carefully transferring his hold to the other man.
        Wilbur saw they had a blanket but it was thin and the child was cold to the touch. Wrapping his coat around them, he instructed Eret to light a furnace, which he did post haste.
        “Hello there, love.” He whispered quietly to the infant, rocking them lightly. “We’re going to get you warmed up and something to fill your stomach, how does that sound?”
        The baby didn’t fuss, too tired and cold to even thinking about making one. Wilbur stood next to the now lit furnace and looked up at Eret.
        “Is anyone out there?” He asked, his proud leader voice coming out.
        “No sir, I was worried about the child.”
        Wilbur nodded. “I commend you for saving their life, but I have it from here. Send someone to fetch milk and then please stand guard again.”
        Eret nodded before leaving the van.
        Once the two were alone, Wilbur sighed heavily as he sat on the floor, still close to the furnace. He felt the child’s forehead, feeling them warm up to his relief.
        “You gave us a scare little one.” He chuckled quietly. “But don’t worry, you’re in a safe place. L’Manberg will care for you. I suppose it was lucky you were left here rather than the Dream SMP.”
        He hummed quietly as he gently rocking the child, their eyes closing as they relaxed in his hold. As they relaxed, he gave a quick check for their gender.
        “Welcome little one. You’re the first woman of L’Manberg.” He smiled lightly.
        For a short while, he was able to forget about everything outside the van. He could relax himself and let his mind clear as he watched the little girl in his arms. They were both at peace.
        After a few minutes, he looked up as he heard the van door open. As he was standing up carefully, his own son Fundy came in holding a bucket.
        “Hey, Eret said you needed…What the hell is that?!” Fundy exclaimed in surprise, startling the girl in his arms, tears appearing in her eyes.
        “Shh, it’s alright,” Wilbur whispered to her as he rocked her again and he wiped her tears away with one hand.
        Fundy cautiously came over, raising an eyebrow. “Who are they?”
        Wilbur paused thinking for a moment, before smiling. “Meet your new little sister my son. (Y/N), the newest member of our great nation.”
          Philza (Right before Wilbur’s Betrayal)
        Phil shook out his wings as he landed in a village. He needed to rest them for a bit before continuing on his journey to L’Manberg. He had gotten word of how the tides had turned badly for his sons in the new nation they made to try and live peacefully. Originally, they hadn’t asked for his aid as Tommy and Wilbur had made contact with Techno and they believed with their older brother, they could surely turn it back. Yet, Tommy had sent him a letter with worry for Wilbur’s state of mind and Phil decided he needed to be there for his sons.
        Yes, he wanted them to learn the world on their own but there were some times when Phil needed to be there to help them.
        Looking at the sky, the night was fast approaching so he managed to get a house in the village for the night. Keeping his sword by his bedside, he went to sleep for the night…
        Startling awake, Phil heard the sounds of the village bell.
        “God damn it,” Phil mumbled, scooping his sword and bag before putting his hat on his head.
        Running out, he saw the cause of the panicked ringing. A pillager raid, and it was already out of control. Fires were crackling madly and blood littered the paths.
        “Shit.” He swore as a pillager spotted him and he dodged the arrow before running them through with his sword.
        The few surviving villagers ran from their homes and Phil went to follow when he heard a wail, the wail of a child. His throat tightened as he looked back to the burning buildings, his fatherly instinct along with his good nature kicked in.
        “God…” He muttered before spreading his wings.
        With ease, he was able to dodge between pillagers and ravagers alike as he followed the sound. Landing at the house that was most certainly ablaze, Phil kicked in the door. Holding his arm to his mouth and nose, he rushed in and found a small nursery, the flames engulfing the walls and ceiling. Rushing to the crib, he found the small child and quickly picked them up.
        “Let’s go kiddo.” He said as he rushed back out.
        Once he was outside, he took flight again and flew high enough to be out of arrow range, and flew far from the village. As he did, he looked the small child, of which he found out was female, over for injures as she screamed and cried. She had no visible injuries but Phil knew she had to have inhaled smoke. So, after a handful of minutes flying, he landed and shushed her quietly.
        “It’s alright kiddo, hang on,” Phil told her quietly as he went into his bag taking out a health potion. “I got something that can help you.”
        Being gentle, he gave them a few drops of the potion to hopefully clear out any smoke and heal the damage it might have done. The little girl gave hiccups and small cries.
        “It’s alright. You’re safe now.” He bounced her lightly, slowing down her cries to nothing. “There we go. We’re ok. Once morning comes, we’ll find the others of the rest of your village and see if we can’t find your parents.”
        The little girl’s eyes merely drooped and he gave smile before he frowned as he looked up to see the fires in the distance. They were a human child and he didn’t remember seeing any humans running away with the survivors but he’d try. And if not…
        “Don’t you worry, I’ll take care of you,” Phil assured the now sleeping infant.
        Technoblade (Start of Retirement)
        Techno shouldered the bag of wood he had gathered over his shoulder, his axe on his belt as he made his way home through the snow. The voices were relatively calm, not hungry for blood at the moment, and Techno was able to have a peaceful moment. As he trudged closer to his house, he slowed to a stop seeing footprints by the stairs and the voices kicked up as his thoughts went wild.
        Phil always gave him notice on his walkie if he was on the way and whoever had been there had gone up the stairs then walked away in a different direction from where they came.
        The voices were bringing up the question of if he was being scouted out. Who could have found his house? How did they find it? They started to demand blood.
        Technoblade took his axe off his belt while putting down the bag of wood. Going towards the porch carefully, he held it ready to expect the worse when he entered his house but he didn’t even go up the stairs to find something. On his doorstep, there sat a large huddle of blankets.
        Furrowing his eyebrows, he came up to the huddle carefully and slowly with his axe raised. Stopping when it was fully in view, he stared in even more confusion.
        “What the hell?” He questioned, lowering his axe slightly as he looked around the snowy tundra. “Who leaves a child on my doorstep!”
        In the middle of the huddle of blankets was a sleeping child, who wiggled slightly at the loudness of his voice.
        They’re an orphan now
        You know how you feel about orphans
        Blood for the Blood God
        Techno winced at the sounds of the voices as he looked at the child. They were right…they were an orphan now. Someone had left them on his doorstep and now they were abandoned. He gripped his axe tightly as he looked down at the infant.
        It’d be quick and easy…
        The small human opened their eyes slightly, squirming slightly as they saw him. Techno’s grip loosened, the voices screaming in protest. They were so small and so defenseless…he wasn’t calling for blood anymore.
        Grunting, he put the axe away, going back down the stairs to grab the bag as he clenched his jaw at the loud noises of the voices before going back and picking up the child with surprising gentleness as the child was startled slightly. He shouldered his door open, dropping the bag of wood next to the unlit fireplace before making his way upstairs to his bedroom. He put the child down, who watched him in silent curiosity as Techno took the walkie off his belt.
        “Phil, you there?” He questioned into it.
        It took a minute but the device crackled.
        “Yeah, what’s going on?”
        “I got a…issue. Come over as soon as you can.”
        “An issue? What kind of issue?” Phil asked in surprise as usually, Technoblade could handle most of his issues.
        “It’s hard to explain, just come over.” Techno rubbed his temple at the screams of the voices.
        “Alright, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
        He put the walkie down as he looked over at the child watching him.
        “What?” He huffed.
        Then the child gave a small giggle, trying to get their hands free to hold them out to him. The man stood there in shock as his heart melted. He had not felt something like that in a long time. Scrunching up his nose slightly before coming over and taking the infant out of the blankets and holding her as he used to with Tommy.
        “What the hell am I going to do with you?” He muttered and the small human held lightly onto his shirt, making even the voices slow down.
        He down a level in his home to wait for Phil, keeping the child in his hold as he just decided to do his normal routine. He started a fire and began to brew a few potions when the knock came on his door.
        “Come in.” He called.
        In stepped his father, who immediately dropped his bag in surprise seeing what Techno was holding as he added a new ingredient to his potion.
        “Hello.” He greeted the older man without looking at him.
        “What the hell did you have?” The older man questioned.
        Techno looked over at him confused. “Blaze powder.”
        Phil took his hat off as he ran a hand through his hair. “I meant the baby!”
        “Oh! Yeah, this.” Techno said casually, the older man freaking out. “Someone left them on my porch.”
        “Oh god…are they ok?” Phil asked, coming over.
        “Yeah, they’re fine. They were swallowed by blankets.”
        The child tried to take a bottle in their hands and Techno simply moved it from them and kept working like it was the most natural thing in the world. Phil stood in surprise at how casual Techno was, he knew about the orphan thing and how vicious the voices in his head could be.
        “What…what are you going to do with the child?”
        “That’s why I called you,” Techno said, before holding the child to the man. “You take it.”
        “What?! Techno, I can’t just take this child. I…” Phil’s hand shook slightly at the thought of Wilbur. “I can’t have another child right now. And L’Manberg will question where I even got them in the first place.”
        “Well then what do I do with it?!” Techno huffed as he was surprised by the quietness of the voices.
        “Well…you could take of them.”
        “I don’t know how to take care of a child. I don’t even like children, have you seen me with Tommy?” Techno rolled his eyes.
        “You seem to like this one.” Phil pointed out as Techno was holding them willingly and at the gentleness, he had with them.
        Techno frowned as he tried to think of a good reason. “That’s because they’re quiet.”
        “Look…I know you don’t want to hear this but maybe you should look after them, even just for a while. I can see if I can find someone who wants a child.”
        No, you found them.
        They’re rather cute…
        Keep them!
        The voices had done a full turn around from when they first saw the child. They were demanding Techno care for them and protect the fragile being. Techno couldn’t disagree with them because in his heart…he wanted to protect the child that had been left on his doorstep.
        “Fine, I’ll take care of them for a while but you need to help me, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”
        Phil chuckled. “Of course, son. We should look them over first to make sure they’re alright.”
        Techno rolled his eyes but agreed, listening to Phil as he told him what to do. The father was smiling proudly as even though Techno was frustrated with the new task, he continued with it. Once she, as they discovered, was checked over, Phil put a hand on his son’s shoulder.
        “What do you want to call her?” Phil asked.
        He looked down at the child, who was giggling as Phil smiled at her.
        “Blood Child.”
        “Techno!”
        Later, Techno actually decided on (Y/N) and for once, the voices were on his side.
          Eret (Before the founding of L’Manberg)
        Eret chuckled to himself as he walked down the path back towards his castle. Tommy’s antics for the day had been particularly ridiculous that it still brought a chuckle to the older gentleman as he went back to his home. He knew the days around the Dream SMP certainly wouldn’t be boring.
        Walking to his castle, he stopped as he noticed a basket left in front of the door and peered inside.
        “Why hello there.” Eret smiled seeing a small face peering back up at him as they squirmed slightly in discomfort. “What are you doing here little one?”
        He carefully picked up the basket and went inside his castle. As he got to his bedroom, he carefully took the infant out struggling a bit but managed before searching a bit in the basket.
        “Hmm, no note or anything.” He muttered as he looked at the child squirming around. “Well, someone made a mistake leaving you behind. Let’s see if I can’t figure out what’s making you so fussy.”
        After a bit of trying, first checking to see if she needed a diaper, he figured she needed some food and managed to get milk, putting it in a clean potion bottle to help her drink it easier. That also took a few trials, but he managed to help her drink until she stopped fussing.
        “There we go, now I can see your lovely face better.” He smiled as he sat on his bed, wiggling his finger in front of her making her giggle.
        As he played with the small girl, he frowned slightly as he looked over the basket that she had been left in. Why would someone leave someone so precious on the doorstep of his castle? It was truly a shame for those that did leave the little girl as Eret couldn’t help but slowly smile again as the little girl grasped onto his finger.
        “You’re not going to have to worry little one. You can stay here with me and you can be the princess of this castle.” He promised her, hugging her lightly, making her giggle. “I’ll make sure you’re safe and happy. It will take me a little while to learn how to do it all properly but I’ll learn. How does that sound…(Y/N)?”
        He chuckled as he moved his head back as she reached for her glasses. Yeah, this sounded like a beautiful idea.
          Dream (The Very Start)
        Dream rolled his eyes behind his mask as he heard George screaming in the distance, Sapnap laughing wildly in return. Those two never know how to stop.
        “Come on you two! We need to build a house before the night comes.” Dream called to them. “Stop goofing off.”
        Yet, he could still hear George’s high-pitched scream and he just chuckled and shook his head at his friends’ behavior. They were the company he kept and he honestly wouldn’t trade them for anything.
        Eventually, they did stop screwing and they were able to get to work on building their first home of the new land they had. The three of them joked and there was some arguing still between Sapnap and George but it just made it peaceful for the three of them. It was how their lives were.
        Dream went to go look for some sheep to get wool for beds before night fully struck, leaving the two “children” at the house. As he went searching, he jumped when he heard the sound of screaming, but it wasn’t liking George’s scream. It was quieter but still a scream.
        “Hello?!” Dream called as he pulled out his stone sword.
        As he went towards the noise, he realized it wasn’t a scream of terror as he first thought it was. No, it was a screaming cry, the kind a child would make. He started sprinting at that thought and skidded to a stop as he found the infant that was making the sound laid on top of a rock, a group of three zombies trying to get it.
        Dream gripped onto his sword before shouting to get their attention and moved back, quickly taking care of the mobs. He pushed his smiley mask to the side of his face as he finished them off and rushed over to the baby.
        “Hey! Hey. It’s ok now.” He told them as he climbed up next to them, dropping his sword at the bottom. “All the bad things are gone.”
        He gently picked up the baby, shushing them as he put a hand on top of their head. Slowly, they quieted down and Dream smiled wiping their tears away.
        “Hey, there you go. See? There’s nothing to cry about.” He chuckled before screwing his face up to look funny.
        The child giggled and he grinned.
        “There we go. Now, let’s check you out.” He muttered, looking them over. “No injuries. That’s very good princess. Now, what are you doing out here?” He asked as he looked around, seeing no signs of human life other than the two of them.
        Dream’s blood boiled slightly. Someone would just leave a child out here? If it wasn’t for him, she would have died!
        “You got nowhere to go huh? Well, you don’t have to worry.” He said, carefully sliding down.
        He picked up his sword, putting it back in its sheath, before walking back towards his friends.
        “I’ll take care of you. You’ll be the princess of our new land! You, me, and your two idiot uncles.” He laughed, the tiny girl giggling at the sound. “And I’ll make sure you always have a reason to smile.”
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