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writing-for-me-at-this-point · 3 years

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The Missing Guardian | Prologue: Act I Scene I | Mondstadt: The Outlander Who Caught The Wind

A.N. okay! so first chapter of a new series im starting! its a series rewrite of the genshin impact plot. i had always wanted to do one of these, and with my comic obsession, if you read marvel/dc comics youll find some crossovers hints. hope yall enjoy as i finally start to write and get on some type of schedule. its also one in the morning so imma head to bed :)

Word Count. 1,633 words

Page Count. 4.8 pages

Synopsis. When you’ve finally found a home in a set of twins who travel across worlds, setting out to enjoy your time with them; learning everything you could while traveling from world to world. But this time was different, because this time, someone stood in your way from continuing forward, from going home. You watched as your family was torn from you once again, leaving you stuck in a world alone with only a guide, the memories of a life long left behind, and the hope of finding them once again.

[ Series Masterlist: The Missing Guardian Mini Masterlist ]

[ Act I, Scene I ] [ next scene ]

Prologue Act I: Scene I | Monstadt: The Outlander Who Caught The Wind

So, what you're trying to say is that you fell here? From another world?

But, when you wanted to leave and go back to your world... Your path was blocked by some unknown God?

You could only nod at Paimons commentary, watching as she floated next to you, a small hand to her chin as she looked deep in thought. Looking forward to the vast openness of the ocean in front of you, memories flashing before your own eyes as the pain settled in your heart, the wind slowly picking up before the tears filled your eyes. It hurt to think back at what happened, to how you lost them, the two people to found you after being lost for so long.

That carmine red outlining the dark abyss shaped like a star would haunt you as a woman walked out, snowy white hair and the bandages around her legs flowing around her as her voice seemed to break through your skull, demanding your attention while the twins next to you could only look up in confusion. The anger in those golden eyes was enough to make you take a step back, you've never met her- Hell, you've never seen or heard of anyone like her, so why did she come at you with such ferocity? Even her mere presence contrasted with the ivory, baby blues, and gold of your surroundings, the heavenly area around you tainted with this... Unknown God.

"Outlanders, your journey ends here." She demanded, the portals behind her sharpening with the wave of her hand. Lumine took a step forward, her shock evident in the small gasp she let out before speaking, determination and confusion spilled across her features.

"Who are you?"

"The sustainer of heavenly principles." She responds quickly, bringing a hand up to her line of vision with a small red and black cube in her hand, twirling it causing the ground beneath you to tremble, Aether looking between you and his sister. Shaking your head, you bent your knees ready to jump, the engines in your heavy boots started up, as your mask appeared on your face once again with only a light touch to the earpiece.

"The arrogation of mankind ends now." The ground lit up around you, red and irritated with magic you haven't seen before, your boots shooting you into the air as Aether and Lumine jumped- following your lead as they pulled their golden swords and allowed their wings to manifest, holding themselves in the air.

It was barely a second, before you moved forward with the twins by your side, your hands moving to the Quads in their holsters and taking them out for another fight. You only thanked whatever Gods in your own world were listening, and that damn mentor of yours, before your mind went back to the battle at hand- requiring you to fly around and dodge the large amounts of glistening red and gold cubes that came in your way, blocking you from the target of the Unknown God.

Before you knew it, the end of this battle came quickly, an explosion from the mere speed of you, Lumine, and Aether stopping right before the Unknown God to attack.

And that second was all she needed to do what was needed.

Her gaze fell upon you, making you shiver in fear, before you flew back and blasted a beam of energy at her from your Quad, only for it to be absorbed by a cluster of cubes. Your voice came out robotic, echoed with the technology that covered your face, you eyes moving to see the cluster of cubes enveloping the twins that were once beside you.

"Aether! Lumine!" They only looked at you in horror, fading once the cubes covered them whole, returning to the Unknown God in a hollowed and golden version of her twisted and unique weapon. She watched the rotating cube with wide, uncaring eyes, giving you enough time to circle around her and attack once more- throwing the handheld mines from your belt onto her form, the beeping accelerating once it met her skin, and an explosion following quickly.

By the time the smoke cleared, and before your mask could scan and gain some sense of recognition, the cubes that protected the Unknown God attached themselves to your outstretched hand, closing in on you while maintaining the explosion you caused. Eventually, it all settled into one cube that contained your hand, before you followed the same fate as the twins.

"Wait! Don't go! Give them back!" You managed to scream, desperation in your voice, as you watched another family be taken from you once again, your vision fading into darkness and your heart breaking once again.

And just like that, the god took away my friends.

Some kind of seal was put on my being, and the power I had was gone.

And while I had the freedom to travel the universe, worlds, and entirely new realms.

I was now trapped.

"How many years ago was it? I don't know, Paimon. But, I've gotta. I have to." You answered Paimons question, still looking out to the sea in front of you, mask now hidden into the earpiece that decorated your left lobe. The leather of your jacket warmed you from the cool breeze of the sea, the bodysuit underneath regulated your body temperature in any environment, but you specifically used it when in space when you held the title of Guardian. But you couldn't afford to think about that now.

Not when there's a chance of finding Aether and Lumine.

"After I woke up, I was alone- until I met you two months ago." You finished, looking over to your floating friend, who only turned as she spoke.

"Yeah. Paimon really owes you for that. Otherwise Paimon likely would have drowned... So, Paimon will do her best to be a great guide!" She smiles, hands on her hips while looking up to you, seeing as she always chose to float around chest-level when around you. You sighed, a weak chuckle escaped your lips before you sat up from the sand, brushing off the back of your cargo pants and looking towards your guide for this new world- patting her head and making sure to be careful of the crown that hovered above her.

You had only hoped Paimon would do most of the talking for you anyways, due to Tevyat’s language being foreign even to your ears and tongue, a feat for a Guardian of your reputation. A decent understanding of the oral part of the language under your belt, you found reading to be easier, since it did look similar to some scripts back in your own world. Your thoughts were cut off as Paimon spoke up, calling for you to follow her as she sped ahead of you, following the path from out of the beach to the grassy area ahead of you.

"Awe, the path ends here. I guess we'll just have to climb, huh?" You rolled your eyes, shaking your head while you started to heave yourself up the large rock, Paimon taking notice of this.

"You mean I have to climb the rock, P, you just have to float." You laughed, reaching the top with a grunt before she whined about floating taking as much energy as walking or climbing. It wasn't bad, you've climbed a lot worse in even more horrid situations, but damn did that take a good breath from you. You'd have to work on rebuilding some of your stamina while traveling here, and possibly need to find some supplies to settle somewhere for a bit, maybe even collect whatever currency they had here.

"Well, let's take the route we planned! We're off to... a Statue of The Seven!" She smiles with glee, before a questionable face appears as you both move forward, her head turning towards you as you attempt to take in much of the scenery and areas you could. Your heavy boots only crushed the poor underbrush and grass that came into contact with it, your belt that was filled with gadgets and such clinking with the sway of your hips- hitting the holsters.

This world is beautiful...

"Which of The Seven are you looking for exactly?" She asked, making you shrug your shoulders at her, hands up as you walked towards a nearby tree- picking up the strange orange fruits and packing them away before moving forward. They looked like some weird crossbreed of orange and pear, but, you hoped it would taste as good as it looked.

"To be honest? Any of them. They should have some idea of what happened, but even then, The Seven are gods in this world- and from what I remember of gods... they aren't too sane to say the least." You said, reaching a small cliff side that overlooked a lake with a statue near the edge of the small island in the center of it.

"That's a Statue of The Seven!" She pointed in its direction as you gave her your full attention, your finger going to touch the back of your ear to signal that, mindful of the metal to not trigger the activation of your mask.

"There are a few of these statues scattered across the land to show The Seven's protections over the world. Among the seven gods, this god controls the wind. Paimon's not sure whether the god your looking for is the Anemo God, but... Paimon'll take you to the Anemo God's place first, and there's a reason why~" She muses, giving you a small wink before turning around, allowing you to follow her down the path to the first Statue of The Seven.

To the first step towards finding Aether and Lumine.

Your journey has started.

#genshin impact imagine #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #gi x reader #gi imagine #x reader #reader insert #queen.writing #The Missing Guardian: Genshin Impact

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lucywritesreid · 4 years

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With Heaven Above You - Part 4

Summary: The team take a closer look at Reid’s findings to see if they can figure out where he might have been taken. Y/N feels tremendous guilt for putting him in this position, but finding something peculiar gives them their first clue…

Tags: @spacedikut @101donuts @rexorangecouny @l0ve-0f-my-life @yeah-just-ignore-me-thanks @awkwardnesshabitat @liaabsurd @reidsmyhusband-emilysmymistress

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.9k

Notes: Thank you so much again! Can’t believe all the nice comments I’ve had so far. Makes my heart swell 😊

Between the team the photograph must’ve been analysed a few thousand times. Each member kept requesting to look at it, picking it up and studying it under various light sources across the BAU. You had only looked at it the once. That was enough. The truth was that they weren’t going to find what they were looking for from the photo. It was just you taking off your microphone after the press conference. So it was highly likely that the unsub had been there, watching. JJ was making multiple phone calls to try and find the details of everyone who had signed up to be there. The truth was more harrowing. You knew that a mere 30 seconds after that picture was taken, Spencer had come over and given you a hug. A moment that you believed at the time to be private. But he had seen it. He had seen your Spencer. And he had taken him.

It was well into the night before any of you started to leave. Everyone had been running around, making phone calls, printing things off, going through case files. But you had just been sat at Spencer’s desk, curled up in his chair. You desperately were trying to think about what you could do. It was Emily who startled you out of your dream state.

“Hey, y/n, come crash with me tonight, okay? You need to try and get some sleep.”

You wanted to protest but it was no use. “Yeah, sure thing Em. Can we stop over at mine and grab a couple of things first?”

She looked a little hesitant at first. “Um, sure. But only quickly.”

From that moment on you acted without thought. It was as if a robot had taken over your body, moving your legs, walking you to the car. You couldn’t think about anything as you did it.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to get your things for you?” Emily’s voice made you jump. You hadn’t registered the entire car ride, and suddenly you were outside your apartment.

“No, but maybe come with me?” She nodded at the suggestion. You knew as soon as you walked in you were going to be wrapped up in all things him, and you weren’t sure if you could handle all the emotion.

Emily took your key from you and unlocked the door. She switched on the hall light and stepped into the apartment first, cautiously. You realised this wasn’t the first time Emily had walked into a home feeling unsettled, apprehensive. She knew just what it was like to come home and know that it wasn’t the way you left it. “I’m going to grab some of Reid’s case files to have a look at. You get what you need, take your time.”

“Thank you, Emily,” you tried to smile but your face couldn’t do it. You were so lucky to have such a wonderful friend, and one day you’d be able to show her just how much it meant to you. But not today.

You walked around uncertain, not sure what to look for. The sensible part of you was saying go pack a bag, get your things, and leave. You lingered in the living room for a few minutes, taking in all the things that reminded you of him. You saw the answering machine was flashing red. Was it really a good idea to check the message? It was probably something mundane, a cold caller. But there was a small possibility that it was him. Maybe an explanation? Your finger edged tentatively over the button. It took a few seconds before you pressed down and waited to hear what was coming next.

You’ve reached the home of Agent Y/F/N and Dr Spencer Reid, an all too familiar voice said, we can’t come to the phone right now because we’re probably fighting crime or playing chess. Leave a message after the beep!

What followed next was not what you expected. It was an almost silent message, but you could just about make out someone breathing. Some long, drawn out breathing. It lasted for about ten seconds and then the message cut out. Before you could call out a voice made you jump.

“When was that left?” Emily asked, suddenly behind you.

You squinted at the display on the machine. “This afternoon.”

“I’m going to forward this over to Garcia and see what she can get from it, you go and get the rest of your things.”

You nodded and walked into the bathroom. It was ridiculous to say that you could recognise Spencer’s breathing, but you were certain that wasn’t him on the tape. Which made it all the more unsettling as to who it actually was. Feeling tightness in your chest, you rushed over to the sink and turned on the cool water. You cupped your hands under the stream and splashed your face a few times, until the tight feeling went away. Get it together, y/n. You must do this. You need to focus.

After a few deep breaths you turned off the tap. You reached over to grab a towel from the radiator to dry your face when you saw a book lying on the bathroom floor. You crouched down to pick it up and admired it in your hands. The pages were all frayed and torn. It had been laid next to the radiator to dry after a night a few weeks ago.

“Hey! Y/N be careful, this is a first edition. I can’t take it back to the library covered in soap!”

“Listen Reid, you’re the one who decided to read during bath night. I can’t be liable for the damage that incurs.”

“Okay, fair point. But I thought you liked it when I read to you in Latin while you washed your hair? Weren’t you the one that said you wanted to learn a new language?”

“Yes Spence, a new language. A usable one. One that people still speak!”

“Statistically there are millions of people who can still read Latin. While it appears to be a dead language there is actually a large percentage of scholars and academics who use Latin in a variety of contexts… You always said you were interested in philosophy…”

“Yeah yeah, save me the lecture Dr Reid. You have until the bubbles run out to keep reading or else this book is going straight in the water…”

You were jolted out of your daydream by a knock on the door. “Y/N?” A concerned voice spoke up. “Are you okay in there?”

You quickly set the book back down and hurriedly grabbed your toothbrush and a hair tie. “Yeah Em, I’m coming now.” You made your way into the bedroom and grabbed a duffle bag. There was no thought to what you were packing, just random items that hopefully would make an outfit for the next day. You glanced over at Spencer’s pillow, his perfectly folded pyjamas, and decided to pack those as well.

It was truly painful to leave, but you knew it was for the best. By the time you made it to Emily’s it felt like it was almost morning. She poured you a large glass of wine and excused herself to go to bed, promising first that if you needed anything during the night to give her a call. You thanked her again and settled down on her sofa, wearing the buttoned-up pyjamas you’d taken from Spencer’s pillow. The glass of wine went down far too quickly, and you refilled it twice. Sleep was an impossibility at this point. You could already see morning light peaking through the gap in the curtains. That meant it wasn’t too long before you could go back to work and try and figure out what was next.

The truth was you already knew what you had to do. You were going to make another press conference, permission granted or not, and try and make yourself as appealing as possible. You were going to try and convince the career killer that the story would be far better if he took you as well as Reid. Imagine the headlines – two dead FBI agents, who were also in love! Caught in the crosshairs of the career killer! The best and most famous serial killer in the whole world! The papers would go wild for it. You knew deep down that the killer would, too. But it wasn’t going to play out that way. You were going to trade yourself for Spencer. Convince the killer it was you he really wanted. Tell him you’d give him whatever he wanted, help him put on a show. You’d let him kill you live on TV. You knew that you would do anything to get Spencer back.

You rehearsed your little inner monologue a few times. When you felt like you’d perfected it, you decided to try and think about something else for a few minutes. You remembered you’d taken the crossword puzzle book from Spencer’s desk. That would make a good distraction if he hadn’t finished them all already. You fumbled through the contents of your bag until you found it, along with a mechanical pencil. One of the corners had been turned over so you flicked the book open to that page.

Spencer had already started the crossword but hadn’t completed it. That confused you a little. It was very unlike him to leave a puzzle unfinished. You started to scan your eyes over the clues he had already filled in.

A six letter word for a season of the year synonymous with fall. Autumn. Easy. You glanced over to where Spencer had filled in the word. A-U-T-U-N-N. How had he managed to make that mistake? In all the years you knew him you hadn’t once seen a spelling error. You shrugged.

Next clue: Lion’s cry, four letters. Roar. Same again, you looked at where he’d filled it in. R-O-O-R. This couldn’t be a coincidence. You circled the incorrect letter, and the ‘n’ in autumn, and went back to the next clue.

A seven letter word for a pilot. Aviator. Spencer had filled in A-V-I-A-T-U-R. You circled the U.

Clearly reasoned, seven letters. Logical. Same spelling mistakes. L-O-J-I-C-A-L. That added a J.

Card game, five letters. Poker. P-O-K-A-R. A.

Woollen items, eight letters. Knitwear. K-N-T-T-W-E-A-R. T.

Organ of sight, 3 letters. Eye. E-Y-I. You circled and noted the I.

Desire to travel, ten letters. You had to look across at what Spencer had already written for this one. Wanderlust. But he’d spelt it W-A-N-D-E-L-R-U-S-T. Confused, you circled and noted the l and the R as they were both wrong.

He had only filled in one more clue. Calm-natured. Placid. But instead of a C, he’d written S. That left you with ten letters. You scrawled them down at the bottom of the page. N, O, U, J, A, T, I, L, R, S

N O U J A T I L R S.

What on Earth did that mean? You looked at it a few times through slightly blurry wine eyes. Why had he done this? You couldn’t quite understand what was going on. But there was something in you, a hunch, that he’d left this for you on purpose. Who else would piffle through his desk and take out a crossword book? There had to be some meaning to it. After exhausting yourself with possibilities, the tiredness took over, and you eventually fell asleep. You dreamt of those ten letters swirling around your head.

End of part 4.

#dr reid #dr spencer reid #dr reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid x reader #spencer x y/n

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cxmetery-gates · 3 years

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OBSESSIVE TEACHINGS - DARK!TOM HIDDLESTON

CHAPTER ONE: FAKING IT

SUMMARY: Lynn Moore dreads the beginning of her greatest fear: the first day of senior year. WORD COUNT: 2.3k NOTE: Get ready for typical teenager angst. Let’s all bully Lynn. WARNINGS: dark!tom hiddleston, teacher!tom hiddleston

OBSESSIVE TEACHINGS MASTERLIST

JUST LIKE EVERY YEAR AROUND the middle of August, my mom tells me the same advice; have a good first day. Of course, most mothers, fathers, or whoever tell their child this, but it's as pointless as a circle. Whoever has a fantastic first day of school? There are new teachers to impress, you're stuck with the same bunch of losers you sit with at lunch, and there are more jerks and morons to pick on you, despite the status quo you fall under. High school is frankly really awful all the way around and there's no way someone can deny or even try to argue that. These are the four years of utter hell and we're all dying to get out. I've stepped through those heavy doors, resembling the gates of hell, on a first day three times now. My anger and hatred have only been fueled rather than dying down. I'm sure nothing will ever change.

"Don't forget--" Mom tries to tell me from the porch in sweats and a maroon t-shirt. Her unnatural dirty blonde hair piled on the top of her head with an old red clip. There are tears welling in her eyes, seeing her only child almost grown up. I have one last year of school and mere months until I'm an adult. For me, it may pass by far too slow, but I bet it's a whole different story for her. In all honesty, it's ridiculous that the woman is so upset and not to mention annoying. I have done this routine twelve times now, for Christ sake, she should get a grip on herself by now. I don't mean to belittle my mother but one of her greatest achievements is being able to replicate every single stereotype women have, including having no control over her emotions. An outsider looking in may say I'm a bit to harsh. All I can say to that is no one has loved with her for almost eighteen years like I have.

"I got it!" I yell against the wind as it smacks my face while I walk across the grass. "Christ on a bike," I curse tossing my messy light brown hair from my field of vision.

The bus would take another five minutes to get the corner, but I'd like to not look stupid on my first day by running to catch up with the metal rectangle of devilry Peter Parker style. Well, maybe it would turn into an interesting story at the least. Spiderman is my favorite superhero of all time after all. Despite this, I only allow an angry face to part my path. It's totally fake but faking it is the only way to survive.

Down at the intersection, there are already kids waiting. I think it's safe to assume that all of the puberty-sicken teenagers are freshmen or sophomores since most junior and seniors are still asleep at this early hour, knowing the good majority are able to drive. I take a good look at all of them. The fact that they find throwing bits of gravel at squirrels or birds makes me want to go over and smack them upside the head. That thought crosses my mind a lot. The world is so full of morons; it's hard to pick out which ones are actually tolerable. They're almost as bad as kids in letterman jackets with expensive sports cars. Those fuckers are the worst. All they care about is their ego and how much money they can wave around coming right from mommy and daddy's wallet.

Take the kid in the striped shirt tucked into his hand-me-down jeans. He looks like a nice kid; after all, he's got nothing to brag about. His parents are probably office workers or maybe nothing too difficult. Nothing too important. That's all we are, right? I mean, once we're dead and gone. No one is gonna care what car you drove or what brand your plain white shirt is. People who think they're hotshots or something special are the real morons.

Besides, who thinks it's cool to spend thirty bucks on a t-shirt?

An old car passes, a teenage girl in my grade sits in the driver's seat. I sort of duck out of the way. Not James Bond-like, but I move my already shitty hair in front of my face as if it's going to help hide my identity. The chick probably didn't even see me. I watch the car drive on, kinda imagining what sort of car I would drive once I get one. I suppose I would have to learn first. I personally am not a fan of getting behind the wheel. Hell, I can't even ride a bike without falling over. I'd rather move to a large city and order cabs to get me places. They seem more convenient and, if you get in a wreck, it's not your fault and it's not your money coming out of pocket. No car equals more money. Then again, no car also is equivalent to no freedom and taxis and Uber's can get expensive. It seems like each idea is flawed these days.

Upon scanning the area again— this time ignoring the idiots— I notice only one person who seems excited out of the group. Her dark brown hair and dark skin contrast to the majority of our town, including those waiting nearby. Her curled hair bounces with each stride she takes, happier than the step prior.

Some say it's strange that the girl and I are such good friends. You don't see God and Satan going out and having coffee every weekend or anything.

"What's got you in a good mood?" I question as I readjust my dark blue shirt underneath the flannel. Flannels are my favorite personal quirk. I own at least fifty, most being cool or dark colors. I don't have an obsession; just an interest that I care way too much about. Flannels are to Lynn Moore as controversy is to famous influencers. Looking back up, my eyebrow is still raised. I'm shocked to see her here, assuming her parents would have given her a lift. After a second, it dawned on me that this, riding the bus to school, was her punishment for getting into an accident she won't take responsibility for.

Posting memes and vines references are fun and all, but doing it while going 60 down a highway isn't the smartest. Forgive me for not following the strict millennial handbook but I don't actually want to die nor do I want my friends to.

My best friend, Ellie Graves, gives a small glare. "Why does it always seem like you're on your period?" I shrug my shoulders, and played with the wire choker I always wore. As my fingers slip underneath the necklace, it is evident how to lose it has gotten since I bought it a few months ago. I make a mental note to take a quick trip to the shopping side of the internet sometime soon.

I click my tongue before answering. "Probably because I'm closer to hell than you are," I say, referring to my obvious lack of height. I'm only five feet and just barely three inches off the ground while Ellie is at least five feet and seven inches. Personally I think we would make a cute couple given our attitudes and the extremities of our heights, except for the fact that dearest Ellie is not interested in people other than men. What a party pooper. For me, anyway. "But lets do our best to not reinforce stereotypes," I say referring to her comment.

She nods her head. "Yes, mother." I snort at her sass, leaning my body weight onto my right leg. "But hey! We have one year left! That's something to be excited about, am I right?"

Yes, I would say she is right. Freshmen, sophomore, and the dragged out junior year have come and passed, full of useless information and embarrassing memories with it. It's mostly embarrassing if I have to be honest. School isn't my thing, however falling up and down the main set of stairs apparently is. Who knew?

"Yeah, I suppose so. At least we're considered adults now," I reply trying to find some positive about the situation.

Ellie begins to lightly laugh, "True. That's kinda a scary thought, though." Her body shudders, either because a breeze just blew passed or out of what she just said.

The age of freedom is so close, I can nearly touch it. Despite my longing to finally buy a lottery ticket and spray paint, the fear of adulthood gnaws at the back of my mind. With eighteen comes responsibility, something I lack to a high degree. I muse the idea of getting a degree of irresponsibility. However, I don't think such diploma could help me get into a creative writing career.

I make a thinking face and bring my shoulders to my ears preparing for an exaggerated response. "Well, you aren't wrong," I reply in a forced high pitch noise, catching the attention of the guys. Now I notice they are all matching in basketball shorts and a jacket. Men's fashion, ladies and gents. Ellie chuckles at my utter dorkiness while I continue to make some weird face I'm sure she will get a picture of sometime within the next few seconds.

It's crazy how time is able to fly. Just last week, so it seems, the outgoing, beaming chick I have as a best friend and I were in third grade, the year I moved to a new house, a different school, and a very different town. Although my eight-year-old-self hated it at the time, I'm glad I left the northern state of Maine, all the way across to the midwest. That is if you consider southern Missouri part of the midwest. If I hadn't, who would have the privilege of being my first smack in the face? Or first sleepover (with an actual girl)? Who knows, and I honestly wouldn't like to. Ellie's my best friend; I would be dead if she didn't have my back. And I'm honestly positive she would say the same about her tiny best pal.

Little time passes after the picture was indeed taken and posted on Elle's Snapchat before an ugly shade of yellowish-orange appears entering the neighborhood. Ellie is practically fidgeting, fighting the urge to run up the bus even if it is some distance away. My eyes roll trying to not say anything to kill her spirit but I do let out an accidental groan as its loud hum draws nearer. The bus came to a screeching halt and I already want to turn on my heel and head home. When I step on, I notice there is a new driver this year. After Ellie got her license and could legally drive me around, I never bothered with the bus unless I needed space or she was busy, which was hardly ever. Ellie and I mostly spend our time together with our group of friends. Despite this, I still easily took notice of a different person in the seat. Instead of a balding old man with a face like alligator skin, a woman sat in the brown leather seat and looks roughly in her forties. She, like all of us except for Ellie, looks tired but fakes a smile anyways. The same rules apply; middle school and junior high in the front and high school in the back. It seems as if sitting in the back always made you cool of some sort. Every time a kid got away with it in middle school, he or she was automatically the bad kid, the cool kid, or the king of the bus. God, how stupid is that theory? These thoughts remind me how annoying and stupid we all were at ten and eleven years old. I'm sure if I had a duplicate of myself at that age, I'd shoot either one of us to cease me from the utter pain.

Instead of going all the way to the back, I turn to sit in the seat half way down the aisle while plunging in an earbud, leaving one open to listen to Ellie. I instantly scroll through an select a playlist that mixes rock, punk, and even some emo. Given today being my last first day, I figured early morning jams would be appropriate to get me pumped up even though I tend to listen to this genre quite often as of lately. I enjoy the heavy guitar and double bass pedal and lyrics I can either relate to or wonder who hurt the singer so bad. Needless to say, I'm definitely more of a rock person however there's still a lot of other types of music on my device, including orchestra and folk or indie. I don't like to limit what I listen to; whatever makes me feel good ends up on my phone. Simple as that.

"So, Lynn," Ellie says sliding in right next to me. I look in her direction, which was to my right, waiting for her to respond. She looks at me, but nothing came out of her mouth. Slowly, I arch a brow. Still, there was nothing. "I had nothing to say, I just wanted your attention." Ellie gave a stupid grin while I glare kindly at her if there is such a thing.

My head shakes and I reach out to pat her cheek, "You, my darling, are an absolute dumbass."

I feel her grin grow against my hand since I haven't moved it yet. "Not as big as you, though." I can't argue; she has a point.

As the bus lunches forwards, I look out the window and watch the world go by. Something settles in my gut about then, the feeling both familiar and foreign. I can't tell what it is, but as I watch the clouds roll in over the sun and birds flying through the sky, I only hope my last year of high school will be memorable.

#dark!tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston fanfiction #teacher!tom hiddleston #loki #obsessive teachings #high school #stalking #obsessed love #obsessive #dark!fic

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nikkithomas · 3 years

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Here’s the deal. I started having a lot of pain in my lower back, legs and hips. At first, I went to the chiropractor and he did some adjustments. I seriously felt so much better.

My regular doctor had prescribed some medicine for me for an unrelated thing and it made me so sick. I’d be so nauseous that I’d have to go get fresh air...walk it off...or even splash water on my face. That had been going on even when I was in Knoxville.

Aircheck had asked me to talk about my ACM trip to Vegas when we won in 2019. I’m sure there were people who thought it was funny or maybe even crass...but they asked what I thought or what was going through my head at that ceremony...and I think my answer was something to the effect of “I was trying not to throw up” or something like that. My stomach was on fire and I felt so dizzy. My face was all flushed and hot. I thought about going to the ER there in Vegas...but I was afraid I’d miss the reason I was there...to pick up the ACM for our station. I think it was win number seven for the station...as a PD it was my third...and it was still a pretty big deal. Honest to God, I didn’t want to let anyone down. I also wasn’t sure if it was food poisoning or something. When I got back to Knoxville, went to my doctor...they ran tests...gave me some medicine...and I thought that was the end of it. They still couldn’t figure out what was going on with me, though.

I left Knoxville and moved to the Tri Cities. Best decision I’ve made in years, by the way. I truly love these people. They’ve done a phenomenal job of protecting their product and their people and I believe that’s why this station is still so healthy when many other legendary stations have suffered. The stress level dropped substantially. It’s amazing what can be accomplished when the station and the people are a priority. Which by the way...XBQ has been so much like KAT Country. It’s been everything I love about radio and thought I’d never experience again. These people couldn’t be farther apart...yet be so much alike. It’s a good thing.

The main thing bothering me then...was my back and legs. Kept having some really nasty pain. The pain was so intense sometimes that it made me nauseous. My face was flushed...I had a fever...then I didn’t have one. Maybe it was my weight? I was getting up to pee a lot at night. Only sleeping one or two hours in a stretch. It was all these things that I never put together.

I wanted to get healthy. Told my doctor I wasn’t going to take that medicine that made me feel so bad...just in case that was the problem. My endocrinologist was cool with that. I started the keto diet. Actually...I did keto up until right before Thanksgiving.

I was so happy. My thyroid is absolutely hateful...so losing weight is the hardest thing to do it seems. On keto...I dropped over 30 pounds. Wow! I thought that was great!! Everything felt better. My energy levels were up. I’d get up at 4am and wouldn’t stop until 11pm...and everything was good...until my hip, back and legs started hurting again. It was so bad one morning that the guys I work with called chiropractors for me. It was awful.

The pain had never really stopped...but at a certain point you just get used to the pain and move on as best you can. That’s what I did up until a few weeks ago. If you know me, you know that I love Toys For Tots, St Jude, Second Harvest, etc. We were out with the marines working on Toys For Tots and I ended up having to miss one day because I hurt so bad. Now for me...that’s bad.

It never let up. I’ve just pushed through and tried to “suck it up” since then. That was a couple of weeks before Christmas. Y’all I seriously thought it might be psychosomatic. Maybe it was all in my head. If it hurt...I’d try to stretch or move and work it out of my body...but that NEVER worked.

So...I go back to the chiropractor. Those guys were so good to me. They can electrocute me anytime they want. (All hail the TENS unit!!) That seemed to be working...and then we had a little bit of a COVID scare at work...(everyone is okay, thank goodness). Around that time...I was running a fever off and on. Low grade. There were some other things that weren’t feeling quite right...so...just to be safe...I got another COVID test and quarantined. Still...I felt like I was ALWAYS in pain. Sometimes it was so bad...I couldn’t move or do anything in any way to make it stop. It made me want to cry. It was embarrassing. It was frustrating because I couldn’t get it to let up. It got so bad that last Saturday I drove myself to the ER to get checked out.

Urgent Care said they couldn’t help because I needed “imaging”. Well...I got that imaging done folks. Turns out...I have a scary mass on my right ovary. It’s pretty huge.

I went in Saturday night...terrified of being around sick people...but it had to be done. The pain was so intense...that my blood pressure shot sky high...and my nose starting bleeding. The doctor ordered morphine, Norco and a CT scan.

The guy doing the scan was a travel nurse. He went from being pretty chatty to sort of quiet and reserved after the test. When they injected the dye into me...he was telling me it would hurt...and it was nothing compared to what I was feeling.

I woke up two hours after the scan to the doctor on call sitting next to my bed and looking sorta weird at me. She told me they’d received my test results and everything I’d said was right on the money.

The burning, pressure, aching, tension...all of it...was related to what she referred to as “not the biggest mass” she’d ever seen...but “one of the largest”. She was surprised I’d been walking around with this thing in me for God knows how long.

Now here’s where the story goes off the rails.

That doctor at Ballad mentioned the word “cancer” about nine times in that room. That was the “suspected” diagnosis. She said I needed to follow up and see another doctor because of what could be “cancer”...and told me they’d have to see if it had spread anywhere.

Now...that was a LOT to take in. So...I did what any other person with an iPhone, an unlimited data plan and tons of morphine in their system would do...I looked that crap up on “Dr Internet”.

The next time a nurse came in...I asked her...”Umm did you guys do a CA 125 test?”

That same poor sweet nurse, who would go on to blow a vein...and push the medicine through the IV into my skin, thereby causing a monster of a bruise and making my vein get rock hard...she said in this really hushed tone...”I don’t know...I’ll ask. I saw your report. I’m so sorry.”

At this point...I’m facing my mortality. I just wanted out of there. I wanted this damn thing out of me...I wanted answers...I wanted everything to be okay.

I still want everything to be okay.

By the way...she never came back in with the answer to that CA 125 test question. So I took that as a hard “no”...or “they did it and don’t want to tell me”.

Monday I was back in the ER. Doubled over, in tears.

The doctor ordered pain medicine...that never came in the four hours I was there. That was NOT a fun time. The nurses just let me sit there. To her credit...the doctor was pretty furious when she found out they’d ignored her orders. Once again...this other doctor looks at me and says...”You know they think this is cancer?”

No. Still no test...but she made an appointment for me with a local oncologist.

Now...that CA 125 antigen test is not infallible, nor is it the end-all-be-all test for ovarian cancer. It is a marker though specifically for ovarian cancer.

So if they’re telling you that you have a massive tumor and it could be cancer...(two doctors over two visits..the word has been dropped about a dozen times...it’s also in the CT report...you’d think someone would bust out a needle...draw the blood...see what that looks like...and get you in the right frame of mind in case it is this horrible bastard of a disease!! Right? Wrong.)

The mass at the time was 10.3cm x 10.3cm x 7.1cm.

The oncologist couldn’t see me for a week...the gynecologist couldn’t see me until February 1st.

Yeah. No big hurry. I’m just having trouble walking. I’m in tears. I’m peeing...like a teaspoon at a time. I know that’s graphic...but if you don’t pee...you need to get checked. I felt like I was (and still feel, by the way) in the middle of a massive labor pain that wouldn’t ease off. It’s pain that makes you want to throw up sometimes. It’s super intense.

I went home that second time...sat down in my room...and I couldn’t help but tear up. I’ve cried two and a half times over the “state of things” since this started. Those are the “what am I going to do” tears...totally different from the “oh Lord this hurts like hell...dear God make it stop” tears.

Talked to our friend Eric who told me it was a shame I didn’t live in Nashville...because I could probably call Vanderbilt and be seen pretty quickly. Eric...was right. I’m three hours from Vanderbilt...but only an hour or so from Knoxville.

I called UT. (Go Vols!) That football situation isn’t ideal...but that hospital ain’t half bad.

Within less than an hour...the head Oncologist had looked over my CT scan and was working to get me in there ASAP. They’d have taken me that day...but it was too late in the day and I’d never make it down there in time. So...they scheduled me for Wednesday morning.

Before I walked out of the room that morning...they told me they were going to operate and get this out of me by Monday at the very latest. The schedule was full...so they needed to check on a few things before I left the hospital...just in case there was torsion or whatever.

I had a CA 125 test. That looked good from what I understand but my CT scan and sonogram looked sketchy. The mass appeared to be even larger since Saturday?!? (It showed up as being 12.6cm x 13.3cm x 8.3cm) They gave me a COVID test and told me to self isolate until my surgery...which is scheduled for tomorrow.

It was upon learning how much larger this thing had become...that I named it...”Larry King”.

I don’t know why...but that seemed to be the name that fit whatever this thing is inside me. In my mind...it looks like Larry King...holding two shot glasses. One shot glass is filled with Dewar’s...the other is filled with Metamucil. He has a cigarette hanging out of his mouth...but I don’t know if he’s a “smoker” yet.

If it officially comes back as cancer...I’ll let you know. If it doesn’t...I’ll let you know that, too.

I’m not writing this for pity or attention...on the contrary. It’s all a lot for me to take in...and I’m just not sure how to process it all. Writing it out sort of helps.

In the middle of all of this over the past week...Tom Starr passed away. He was such a sweet man. There’s a picture that he took of us at CRS...it’s me...Tom...Lisa McKay and Heather Davis. I think Heather wrote a caption that said something like “it’s so hard to believe half of the people in this picture are gone”.

That was pretty heavy.

I’m still trying to process that actually. I thought the world of Tom, loved Lisa McKay (she got me when so many others didn’t)...and just to the left...there I was. I felt like a jerk for even taking a moment to feel bad for myself. There are so many other people who have it so much worse than I do. And what if there’s nothing to this thing? What if it’s just some sort freak thing? There are so many people who’ve fought so hard and powered through so much and here I am...maybe worried for nothing...getting ready to have surgery...and it feels wrong to worry about myself. Whatever is done is done and I’ll fight whatever I need to fight. If it’s not cancer (oh God please let them all be wrong) then I have a lot of things that I need to do...and other people’s opinions and judgment that don’t have any place in my head or the right to exist in my life’s body of work or otherwise. I’ll just keep praying for them.

I keep telling myself those doctors could be wrong. Until I see a pathology report...this isn’t real.

While I appreciate and am thankful for any prayers you can send up on my behalf...please don’t feel obliged to write anything on this post. Seriously. I just needed to get this all out and behind me.

I HATE “bleeding on the internet”. It’s a serious pet peeve. Not everyone is worthy of knowing everything that’s going on...nor should they be expected to care...but I realize sometimes people need reinforcement and support. I still don’t like sharing MY business on here. It feels weird. I’ll talk about things on the air...that I don’t care to regurgitate on Facebook.

I’ll talk about award shows, TV, things that are funny...pictures...but it’s not my business who you vote for or what you believe in. I’m just glad that you DO. Better to have convictions and purpose than be apathetic. Over the years...it’s been amazing to see how a simple picture I’ve posted or link (without even commenting on it...just a pic or simple URL) how it can make people lose their minds.

You will never solve life’s problems on Facebook or any other social media platform. It controls you. You/we are merely the peanut gallery from which billions of dollars are “mined” every single minute we’re on here.

The smartest thing I ever had laid on me about social media was from an interview with a Silicon Valley person that said “If you’re not creating the product...you ARE the product. Think about that.

Our world is so messed up right now. And no matter what party you’re affiliated with...it just seems very wrong to lump everyone together and vilify them all. Not everyone is evil. Not everyone is right or wrong. Writing people off is so inhumane. You really can disagree with someone and not hate them.

I remember being at a concert in a few years ago and had just learned some pretty tough stuff that was impacting a competitor, and shared that with one of the leaders that I worked with. They’d taken a huge blow...which was awesome strategically...but it happened at the same time the competitors PD had lost his mother. I remember expressing that I felt bad for the guy (specifically about losing his mother)...and without batting an eye...the guy I worked with said he didn’t feel sorry for him at all. “That’s just too bad!” He said other things but I won’t go there because that would reveal who that person is...and the person for whom he was speaking about that day. Now...in my heart I hoped that guy who up until then I’d had so much respect for...did NOT know what happened to this guys mom. It just felt gross talking to him. I never looked at him the same way again. It was all about depth. There was nothing there. Very disappointing. I once cared what this guy thought about me...but that was done. And living through this now underscores that feeling and reminds me on a personal level what really is important. That’s a lot for a workaholic like me to process.

I’m signing off now. It got sort of “ramblesque” there at the end. Sorry about that. As for all the other stuff...I’ll let you know how it all turns out.

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therainroguefanfiction · 3 years

Text

🔥 ℝise Ⱥbove I̾t ◈ [Thanksgiving Special! 🦃]

📑 Table of Contents | ◂Backward

Word Count: 4,439

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〈“Oh, oh, oh, it’s Thanksgiving, we’re gonna have a good time. With the turkey ey! and mashed potatoes ey!. We are gonna have a good time. It’s Thanksgiving~” Nicole Westbrook, “It’s Thanksgiving”〉

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Oh look, the Author’s Note is at the top this time. I bet you’re thinking, ‘Well shit, this can’t be good!’ And you’d be right 😂 Okay so, I wanted to write a special for Thanksgiving right and I had these plans to make it this shit fest of just absolute crack and humor right. WELL if you know anything about me you know that I go back to angst by default. Like, you know how when you play online games, sometimes your settings just reset on their own and then you gotta go and turn off the music and turn the subtitles back on and why the fuck is PVP ticked on?? That’s basically me okay. I auto default back to angst unless I changed the settings again lmfao

So, I started this off, full fucking intent on being funny right. Yeah, no. Runaway while you fucking can. It got so fucking heavy in the middle and it’s just… I’m sorry bro. That’s all I can say. It might make you cry? I mean, I’m a sensitive lil bitch and I cried while I wrote it sooo~ But fear not! I gave it a cheerful, happy and somewhat enlightening/inspiring ending?? At least I think so anyway… Also, you don’t have to celebrate Thanksgiving to enjoy this! Oh yeah, and don’t @ me about facts, I literally used Wikipedia because I’m an uncultured fuck that knows nothing about Thanksgiving even though I live in the USA lmao Don’t fucking @ me about the song I chose either 😂 I ain’t adding that shit to the playlist tho.

So yeah! Read this shit, cry into your snuggie or your dog that looks like a mop and then go enjoy some turkey or hug your mum. Don’t forget to reblog this chapter because I’m a hoe for them reblogs ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

☔ Rain

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The door to class 1-A slammed open with so much force, it bounced off the wall and came back, stopped only by a gloved hand. An obnoxiously loud voice filled the room, “Are you ready, kids?!”

“Aye aye, captain!” I jumped up, automatically answering only to curse myself a moment later when he smirked. “Bitch, this ain’t Spongebob!!”

He clicked his tongue and gave me double finger guns. “But you responded!”

I slumped into my seat in frustration.

Present Mic approached the board, picking up a piece of bright orange chalk before writing a word on the board in English: Thanksgiving. He slapped his palm under the word, making several pieces of chalk fall to the floor. “We’re going to be talking about the meaning of Thanksgiving in Western Countries, most notably in the United States!”

“Sir!” Iida’s hand shot into the air.

“Thanks for calling, listener! What is your request?!”

Iida stood tall. “With all due respect, sir, we don’t celebrate Thanksgiving in Japan, we celebrate National Labor Day.”

“You’re correct… almost! Many people consider National Labor Day to be Japan’s Thanksgiving! Plus, I’m your English teacher, so why not take this time to talk about a wonderful holiday where you get to stuff your face with as much food as you can handle without being looked at like a weirdo?!”

“It doesn’t matter what you do,” I commented blankly. “People will always think you’re a weirdo, cockatiel.”

“Hey, aren’t you American, Winchester?” Kaminari questioned, tilting his head back to look at me.

I shrugged. “My mom was American, but I was born in Japan. I mean, Gramps taught me English and we had a small dinner every Thanksgiving to ‘celebrate my heritage’ or some shit, but I don’t really know the details about the holiday.”

“Which is what I’m here for!” He slapped the board again, giving up a grin. “Now pay close attention, listeners! In America, Thanksgiving occurs on the fourth Thursday of November every year! In Western Countries, this holiday is known to be the moment to thank the Native American people for helping European pilgrims to survive their first winter in the United States! Typically, this is a day when families come together from across the country to be with their loved ones and feast!”

I hummed. “Gramps used to always make me watch these American pageants where grade-schoolers put on plays reenacting the interaction between the Pilgrims and the Native Americans. I remember one year, this kid was dressed in a fucking black trash bag stuffed with newspaper.”

“Plays are very popular in schools all across the states!” He nodded his head. “Can anyone tell me what year that Thanksgiving became a federal holiday in the USA?” He cupped his ear, but the only thing he got in response was a cricket that had snuck into the room a week ago to avoid the approaching chill settling over Japan. That fucker is really good at hide-n-seek because we still can’t find him and he’s at the back of the room so it’s like he’s in my fucking ear. “That’s right, the year is 1863! Before that, it was celebrated off and on since 1789 but the third president, Thomas Jefferson, just wasn’t feeling the holiday so he put a stop to it!”

“Seems suspect,” I responded.

“Now, who can tell me about the First Thanksgiving?!”

Chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp.

My eye twitched and I turned in my seat, eyes scanning the back wall. Where the fuck is that goddamn cricket?! I swear to Deadpool I’m gonna roast that bitch when I finally fucking find it.

“Right again, my impressionable listeners! The First Thanksgiving was created by the Pilgrims after their first harvest in the New World in October 1621! The feast lasted a total of three days and, according to one attendee named Edward Winslow, there were one-hundred-forty-three rockin’ attendees – ninety Native Americans and fifty-three Pilgrims!” He continued to drone on about the history of Thanksgiving in the states, listing off several different dates and names I couldn’t be bothered to remember.

I mean, History is cool, I guess, but when am I ever gonna need to know this stuff to function as a member of today’s society? Especially here in Japan, where American norms aren’t focused on at all? Plus, that fucking cricket is all I can think about!

“By the way, there will be a test on this and if you fail, you get remedial lessons with me, your chart-topping host!!”

Oh, fuck me.

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I stepped out into the chilly night, my breath coming in puffs of smoke as I walked. Aizawa didn’t like us to leave the dorms after dark, but there was no specific rule about it as long as we stayed on campus. It was two in the morning, and I had been tossing and turning in my bed since I got there. It hadn’t bothered me at first when Mic brought up Thanksgiving, but now that it was just a couple days away, I’m starting to get restless.

This would be my first Thanksgiving without Gramps…

I fell onto the icy cold stone bench, letting my head fall back to stare up at the navy sky. It looked like ribbons of velvet, bright stars dotting across it like sequins caught under the light. The moon was a perfect crescent.

“Jen?”

I glanced over, seeing Zuku with his arms wrapped tight around his body. Even with the thick sweater he wore, it was obvious he was cold. I patted the bench beside me and he sat down, letting me throw my arms around his body. I focused on my quirk, raising my body temperature to warm him up. “Why are you awake?”

“I got up to use the bathroom and spotted you out the window.” He frowned up at me, his brow furrowed. “You look so… sad. What’s wrong?”

My grip tightened around him and I smiled sadly. “I guess I am a bit sad… This is my first Thanksgiving without Gramps, so… it kinda hurts, you know?”

“Oh, I see… I’m sorry…”

“It’s fine. Just something you gotta deal with, ya know? It’s life, and life is full of unfairness.”

“Will you… tell me about it?” He asked softly, playing with his fingers in his lap. “About what the two of you did each year? If it’s not too painful, I mean…”

“I’d love to,” I ruffled his hair and closed my eyes. “Let’s see – Gramps thought it was important for us to celebrate Thanksgiving because my mother was American. ‘It’s part of who you are, kitten, so we must celebrate!’ is what he’d always tell me. He spent the first five years learning everything he could about the holiday because he wanted it to be authentic and at age five, he started hosting a small feast for the two of us each year.”

“It sounds like he loved you a lot.”

“Yeah… Yeah, he did. We were each other’s world, the only two people we had in life. It was just us against the world!” I chuckled, but it held no humor. “Gramps was a hell of a good chef. He always used to attribute that to the fact that he worked for near six years in a restaurant with his father before the man died and the place had to be sold. Cooking reminded him of a simpler time, so he took pride in everything he cooked. Now that I think about it… that was the first time I met Skye and Heather.”

“Friends of yours?”

“Nah, they made my life hell growing up.” I waved my hand. “I don’t think they remembered this, but I met them once when I was seven. They lived a couple blocks down from us and Gramps had met them on several of his midday walks. Skye was half-Japanese on her mother’s side, while her dad was American and Heather was full American but her family moved to Japan just a year or two previously. Since Gramps wanted to make Thanksgiving as authentic as possible, he went to them for advice. Sky’s father had asked his grandma back home to send a few of her recipes for the holiday and that’s when I met Skye for the first time. He stopped by on his way to work to drop them off and she was with him, but she took one look at me and turned her nose up.”

“You were bullied?” He asked softly, lowering his head. “I never would have thought that.”

“Yeah, but it didn’t start until I was twelve.” I chuckled. “Anyway, we didn’t have much money to work with, but he saved up with every paycheck for months in advance. Just small amounts from each check and then the week before Thanksgiving, he’d take the money he saved and go all out, buying a Turkey, potatoes, pumpkin pie, the works. Some of the shit he couldn’t even get in our town, he had to travel to specialty shops or order the ingredients online from overseas. I kept telling him it was too much work, but he was a stubborn old man.”

Izuku shifted in my arms, his head on my shoulder. “Tell me more about him,” his voice was soft and growing husky as sleep started to claim him.

I hummed softly. “He liked what the day symbolized – families coming together to be thankful for the people in their lives and for the things they were gifted with. To be honest, I often wondered as a child if he regretted raising me, but I knew that was wrong as I got older. It was almost like… raising me gave him a purpose, a reason to face every day with a smile. And I guess in a way… he was the same for me. I remember it so clearly, waking up at one in the morning on Thanksgiving day to sounds in the kitchen. I’d sneak down the hallway, careful of that stupid ass board on the right that always creaked when you stepped on it. And there he was, seeming to radiate warmth and happiness as he bustled around the kitchen getting all the dishes ready for that day.”

I smiled, my hands fisting around his jacket as I took a shaky breath. “He always wore that stupid ass apron I gave him on his birthday in fifth grade. It was this god awful snot yellow color with lime green stripes. If you stared at it too long, you’d go fucking cross-eyed. And it had this… hell, even to this day I don’t know what it was. I think it was a Rhino in a chef’s hat but I guess it coulda been a hippo? Or a fat giraffe with a short neck. He was convinced it was a Thanksgiving Zebra, but I still think he’s nuts. There’s no way that was a damn Zebra, and I would literally list the reasons why it couldn’t be, but he’d just listen intently with a bright smile, nodding his head to show that he was listening. And once I was done ranting, he’d pat my head and simply say, ‘Thanksgiving Zebras are quite special’. I swear he was batty.”

Zuku chuckled. “What makes a Zebra a Thanksgiving Zebra?”

“They have to be fat as fuck apparently. And orange. At least I think it was orange. It coulda just been a really dark yellow. I’m telling you, this apron was all kinds of wrong! I will never understand what I was thinking when I looked at that thing in the store and was like, ‘This is feckin’ awesome, he’s gonna love it!’. But he did love it, wore it every time he cooked, even on the rare occasions we had guests over. He wore it without shame and always with a smile.”

“Because it was from you, so it was special.”

“Hmm, probably, yeah.” I sighed deeply. “Come on, let’s get you to bed, you look like you’re about to pass out.”

“I wanted to hear more stories,” he pouted, but he was clearly having trouble holding his eyes open.

“I promise to tell you some more later, okay?” I stood up, putting my arms under his body and lifting him into my arms. He snuggled closer, mumbling something under his breath before sleep finally claimed him. I held him closer, feeling my eyes sting with tears, but I forced them back. I swore to myself that I wouldn’t cry, not until I’ve earned the right to do so.

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“Hey, Jen, wait up!”

I paused in the hallway, glancing over my shoulder. Ryuu was dodging students as he headed toward me, smiling brightly. When he finally reached me, he threw his arms around my neck, pulling me into a hug. I chuckled, hugging him back. “Hello to you, too. What’s up?”

“Are you busy?” He questioned, pulling away.

“Uhh, I got a shit-ton of homework that I probably won’t do and might accidentally burn but that’s about it.” I grinned.

He huffed, putting his hand on his hip. “You better not! You’re not allowed to get kicked from the hero course because you refuse to do your work.”

“Yes, mother.”

He nudged my shoulder but I didn’t miss the way his lips twitched up. “What do you say we hang out at the library for a bit and work on it together?”

I hummed. “Why, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to lure me away, Hiryuu Rin~”

“As if,” he teased, tugging on my hand. “Come on, let’s get to it!”

“But learning is so boring~”

“You won’t be a hero with that attitude~”

“Last time I checked, pros don’t have to go around dividing letters with numbers to defeat villains,” I grumbled, throwing my head back.

He hummed. “True, but what if you come across a math villain?”

“Punch him in the dick.”

He sweatdropped. “What if he has hostages and he’ll only release them if you solve his math problems?”

I looked at him blankly. “What are the actual chances of that fucking happening, Ryuu?”

He huffed, puffing out his cheeks. “It could happen!”

I poked his inflated cheek with a chuckle. “Anything is possible, I guess.”

Ryuu led me to the back of the library, settling down in the corner. The next few hours were spent taking turns on our homework assignments. I was able to help him with a couple subjects, while he had my back for some of the harder ones, like math. And then there was physics, which left us both fucking stumped.

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

The librarian peeked her head around a large bookshelf, her tired, dull eyes landing on us. “Library’s about to close. Time to leave.”

I glanced out the window and clicked my tongue. “Damn, we were here for a while. It’s dark out.”

He nodded, stuffing his books into his bag. “They say time flies when you’re having fun, but…”

“We weren’t having fun at all,” I pointed out and he shrugged, stifling a yawn.

“Can I come back to your dorm?”

“Ho~? I didn’t know you were so forward, Ryuu.” I wiggled my eyebrows at him and he rolled his eyes, rubbing his arms as we stepped out into the cold.

“I was thinking more along the lines of hot chocolate and a movie.”

“Well, that’s no fun.”

“Just what were you thinking…” he muttered under his breath before shaking his head at my grin. “Nevermind, I don’t want to know!”

The walk to 1-A’s dorm passed in comfortable silence, Ryuu practically glued to my side as he soaked up the warmth from my body. I wonder if his body reacts negatively to the cold because of his reptile-like quirk. I should ask him about that later.

We stepped inside and I immediately froze in the doorway, my eyes wide.

Ryuu took his shoes off, looking back at me curiously. “Jen? What’s wrong?”

“I, uh…” I swallowed hard, covering my mouth and closing my eyes. As soon as I stepped into the building, the smell of food had wafted to my nose, almost as if it were waiting at the door to tease me. It smells just like… like the house did every Thanksgiving morning. It’s the exact same smell.

A hand rested on my shoulder, Ryuu looking at me with worry. “Do you feel sick?”

“No, I just…” I took a breath, forcing a smile as I tried to ignore the smell. “Sorry, just remembered something.”

“Are you sure? You look pale…”

I chuckled, pushing past him. “I was born pale. You up for grabbing the hot chocolate and heading to my room for the movie? Not really in the mood for socializing.” I stepped into the kitchen and froze for the second time. What the fuck?

“If you’re not in the mood for socializing, that might be a problem, Winchester.” Kirishima grinned.

“You better fucking get in the mood, bitch!” Katsuki scowled, his face twisted up.

“Welcome home, Jen.” Izuku greeted, brightly.

“Huh, class A certainly loves going over the top for everything, don’t they?!” Monoma laughed, but it didn’t have its usual mocking undertone to it.

“I hope you don’t mind us joining you guys,” Kendo smiled, tilting her head.

My eyes scanned the faces of classes A and B, all stuffed into the kitchen around the table that had been covered in various dishes of food – turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole… Am I dreaming? I don’t… I can’t…

Ryuu embraced me, his hand finding my cheek. “You’re crying…”

“What? No, I -” I lifted my hand, wiping at my eyes. I am crying. I’m crying in front of both classes. They’re supposed to look at me and be reassured and feel safe, how can they do that if I’m crying my eyes out? Why am I even crying?

Momo and Ashido rushed over to me, pushing Ryuu away as they fussed over me, squishing me between them. “We’re sorry, we should have asked first!”

“Yeah, don’t cry, Jen!” Ashido squeezed me tighter.

“I don’t… know why I’m crying…” I sobbed, rubbing at my eyes furiously but the tears wouldn’t stop coming.

Izuku smiled sadly as he approached, pulling my hands away from my face. “All Might thinks you haven’t properly grieved for Gramps. That’s why I thought it would be a good idea to do this, to give you a chance to… to… properly grieve and to realize… to realize that you’re not alone!” His shoulders shook as his eyes filled with tears.

“Damn it, Deku! You’re supposed to make her feel better not start crying with her!!” Katsuki slammed his hand on the table, the silverware rattling.

“Can I… have a minute, please?” I asked softly.

The two girls exchanged a look before hesitantly pulling away. I bowed my head and stepped out of the kitchen, heading back out through the doorway. As soon as it clicked, I leaned back and slid down, my body shaking from the effort it took to hold back the rest of my tears.

‘Remember, kitten, life isn’t always easy. More often than not, you will face hardships and pain that will be so bad, you will begin to question why it has to be that way. However, just as happiness is often fleeting, so, too, is sadness. You may think that crying makes you a weak person, but I assure you it does not. Crying is a sign that you’ve been strong for too long, and there is no shame in it. Don’t be afraid to show your emotions, kitten. They are not your weakness, they are your strength.’

“Young Jen?”

“Toshi…” I sobbed, tears flowing down my cheeks as my body shook.

Warmth flooded me as I was brought into a strong chest, arms wrapped tight around me. A tired voice sighed from somewhere behind him, “I told you this was a bad idea.”

“Shouta…”

He kneeled beside us, his hand gently rubbing the top of my head. “Sorry, I should’ve stopped them.”

I shook my head. “No, I… I just…”

Toshi rubbed my back comfortingly. “When young Midoriya came to me and told me about his conversation with you the other night, I saw this as a teaching moment. He wanted to get together with the rest of your class, as well as class B, to have a Thanksgiving dinner in honor of your Gramps. I knew this would be hard for you, but I was sure that it was the right thing to do. You accepted the fact that he was gone, but you never grieved for him, did you?”

I shook my head, clutching his sweater between my fingers.

“When we lose someone we love, closure is important for us to heal and move forward. And… I worry that you might feel alone in this new world, but you have impacted those around you, even those from class B. They were more than happy to help out when young Midoriya explained things to them.” Toshi pushed me backward, grasping me by the shoulders and giving me his signature smile. “You are surrounded by people who love you, my dear Jen. Never forget that.”

And I smiled back, even with the tears still falling from my eyes.

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

When I returned to the kitchen twenty minutes later, several worried eyes snapped to me, no doubt noticing my red and swollen eyes, but I smiled brightly at them to ease their worries, stepping aside to let the two teachers inside.

“Hey, All Might made it!” Kaminari cheered.

“And Aizawa-sensei, too!” Kishima grinned.

“Does that mean we can eat now? I’m fucking starving,” Katsuki complained, his arm thrown over the back of the chair as he glared at the ceiling.

“Yes, let’s dig in!” Momo clapped her hands excitedly and the room sprung to life, everyone squeezing into the chairs around the table. Not everyone could fit, of course, and they ended up sitting off to the side or on the counters. All Might himself took up two and a half seats as he sat at the head of the table, laughing and chatting with the students as he told them stories from his youth.

I sat at the opposite end, between Shouta and Izuku, both of whom kept glancing at me with worry, though the greenette wasn’t trying to hide it like our teacher was. I chuckled, taking each of their hands with my own. “Thank you for this. It really means a lot to me.”

“Of course!” Izuku squeezed my hand, giving me a bright smile. Aizawa didn’t say anything, but he squeezed my other hand.

“You Sparky fuck, that turkey leg was mine!!”

“Huh? I don’t see your name on it, Bakugo.”

“Do you wanna die?!”

“Ahahaha! What deplorable manners class A has! Pathetic!”

“Be quiet, Monoma!”

“So many beautiful girls packed into one room, I just wanna touch them…”

“You’re disgusting!”

“Can you pass the cranberry sauce? Ribbit.”

“Here you go, frog girl!!”

“You’re too loud, Tetsu!”

“Hey, All Might, what was your favorite thing about America when you lived there?”

“That’s easy, young Kaibara! I loved seeing the -”

“Hey, you guys started without us!!” The room turned their attention to the doorway where Midnight, Gran and Present Mic stood. Midnight, who had spoken, huffed in annoyance. “There better be a turkey leg left!”

“Itps mjinre!” Katsuki mumbled around the turkey leg that he had stolen from Kaminari.

“You little brat, give it here!” She demanded, nearly jumping across the table to tackle him. His eyes grew wide and he took off, yelling obscenities at her as she chased him around the kitchen.

Gran approached me, putting her hand on my shoulder and smiling kindly. “Happy Thanksgiving, deary.”

I looked around the room, watching the chaos that was ensuing around me. And I smiled, my heart full of happiness and warmth. Things haven’t been easy, and I’m sure the road ahead of me is far from clear, but I’m surrounded by people that care about me, that I care about. Gramps… wherever you are right now, I want you to know that I’m okay. You don’t have to worry about me. These idiots may not be entirely sane and they may drive me up a wall sometimes but… they are home. My home.

“Hey, hey!” Mic raised his voice, making the glasses rattle. “Let’s go around and say what we’re thankful for! Start us off, Uraraka!”

She pulled a surprised face at suddenly being called before tilting her head and smiling. “I’m thankful that we can all be here together!”

“Excellent! Iida, you next!”

“I’m thankful to be with friends during this time of giving thanks!”

“That’s the same as what Uraraka just said but good job! Let’s keep this train a-rollin’, folks!”

“I’m thankful for music.”

“Boobs. Definitely boobs.”

“I’m thankful Bakugo didn’t kill me for that turkey leg…”

“I’m thankful that everyone here is so manly!”

“I’m thankful I’m not sitting next to Mineta…”

“Anime and manga, definitely.”

“I’d be thankful if this bitch would stop chasing me!!”

“And I’d be thankful if you’d give me that turkey leg you brat!”

“I’m thankful that all of you dears are healthy~”

“Hah, I’ll be thankful when class A finally goes down!”

“I’ll be thankful when I don’t have to babysit Monoma anymore…”

“I’m thankful I got to meet Kirishima!!”

“I’m thankful that I sparkle so beautifully. I am magnifi -”

“I’m thankful for this awesome food!”

“What about you, Jen?” Izuku asked, curiously.

“Me?” I hummed as several people looked at me expectantly. I grinned brightly. “Ain’t it obvious? I’m thankful for tacos!”

Zuku sweatdropped. “I shoulda guessed…”

“Well, you stick to your guns, at least, young Jen!”

“Speaking of,” I looked Zuku dead in the eye, my expression deadly serious. “Where the fuck are my tacos, bro?”

His body tensed and he swallowed hard. “Um, I… I didn’t see any mention of tacos when I was researching Thanksgiving…”

I clicked my tongue. “That’s fucking shameful, Zuku. No holiday is complete without tacos.”

“I-I’m sorry!”

I grinned, ruffling his messy hair. “Make sure you don’t forget next year, ‘kay?”

His face lit up and he nodded. “Of course!”

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

「“Give thanks for a little, and you will find a lot.” – Hausa Proverb」

「“People cry, not because they’re weak. It’s because they’ve been strong for too long.” – Johnny Depp」

「“Small cheer and great welcome makes a merry feast.” – William Shakespeare」

「“Love doesn’t make the world go ’round. Love is what makes the ride worthwhile.” – Franklin P. Jones」

「“We fall, we break, we fail. But then, we rise. We heal. We overcome.” – Unknown」

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⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

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smolsk · 4 years

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Solace

I wrote this for Obey Me mctober’s Day 27 (Last Night in The Devildom) on my twitter for my Mc, Maya. The grammar and/or spelling isn’t perfect, so please bear with me on this one :3

[Word Count: 4982]

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A week.

A week is all that is left in the Devildom student exchange program that Lord Diavolo had created nearly a year ago; Nearly a year of learning almost everything from the three realms, of trying to memorize every stairway, hall, and dead-end in RAD to not get lost in its massive corridors, of spending every second with the seven demon brothers she had grown so fond of.

It all ends in a week, and Maya felt lost.

On Monday she left her room to join the brothers downstairs for breakfast, barely having the energy to even get out of bed.

“Hey, Maya!” Mammon greeted her as they walk past each other in the hallway. “How’s my favorite human doing? Well- not my favorite favorite- I mean-” He cleared his throat. “How are you doing?”

Maya raised a brow. “I’m doing good. You?”

“Honestly, not that good.” The white-haired demon shrugged and looped an arm around her shoulders. “You only have a week left before you go back home, and I’m seriously gonna miss ya. Everyone will.”

“I’ll miss you too you know. Who’s gonna try to steal my wallet every morning when I’m back home now?” She smirked. “I saw you putting my wallet in your pocket, Mammon.”

“Aw come on, I almost had it!” Mammon exclaimed, handing it back.

They laughed for the rest of the walk downstairs.

Tuesday rolled in and Maya headed over to Leviathan’s room, holding up two bottles of cold orange juice and a bag of chips, yawning a bit every now and then. She needs to get some sleep soon.

She knocked gently at the door when she arrived. “Hey Levi, it’s me.”

When she heard a grunt of approval from the other side of the door, she let herself in.

“Oi normie, you’re late,” Levi told her, pausing the game he was playing on his DDD to look up at her. “Our anime marathon isn’t going to watch itself you know. Unless you’re too busy for a yucky otaku like me…” he grumbled the last part.

“Sorry about that.” Maya scooted over and sat beside him, placing the bottles and chips on the floor next to the pile of snacks Levi first brought. “And no, Lev, I’ll always have time for you and our weekly marathons.” She ruffled his purple hair.

“O- oi! Cut it out!” Levi swatted her hand away. “And besides, this is gonna be our last one.” His shoulders visibly slumped.

Maya gave him a gentle smile. “Let’s just make the most of it then.”

They played the last few episodes of their anime in each other’s company, loudly singing the opening songs until their throats were sore. The orange juice bottles lay on the floor; condensed, forgotten.

She sat on the couch with Satan in the common room on Wednesday night, both with a book in hand. It was quiet, as all the others in the house of lamentation are asleep (all except for Lucifer, who’s pulling another all-nighter for the third night in a row in his room), nevertheless, they both didn’t mind the comfortable silence that surrounded them.

“Still can’t sleep?” The blonde asked her, putting the book he was reading down on his lap.

“Yeah.” Maya sighed. “I have a lot on my mind, that’s all.” The bags under her eyes are starting to get visible by the faint glow of the fireplace.

“If you want, I can let you borrow some of my books when you get back home.” Satan suggested, “To keep you company in case this occurs again.”

“Yes, if that’s alright with you, that is.”

“Everything’s alright if it’s you, Maya.” He smiled at her, closing his book. “Come on, it’s time for bed.”

“You’re not even my mom!” Maya laughed softly.

“But I am older than you.” The blonde laughed back.

The fire danced in their eyes, crackling softly as the wood burned in its brick walls.

When Asmodeus saw Maya at RAD on Thursday afternoon, he let out a loud, dramatic shriek.

“Oh, honey!” He exclaimed, rushing over to her. “You look so pale!” He cupped her cheeks as he scanned her features, horrified.

“What do you mean?” Maya asked him, voice muffled from her cheeks being squished by the avatar of lust. “I’m okay, Asmo. Don’t worry.”

Asmo didn’t take any of it, as he grabbed her hand and dragged her into one of the empty classrooms.

“Sweetheart, I don’t want to impose, but is something bothering you? You looked like you haven’t had any sleep in days.” He asked her, hands gently resting on her shoulders.

The pink-haired demon considered the silence that followed it as a yes, and removed his hands from her shoulders to cup her cheeks.

“Do you want me to do something? Anything? I can call Lucifer and the others-”

Maya cut him off.

“No, please don’t tell them. I’m fine, Asmo.”

Asmo sighed, tucking away a stray strand of hair behind her ear with his finger. “Okay, I won’t force you to tell me anything. But if I see your condition worsen even a tiny bit, I will tell Lucifer about it, okay? Wouldn’t want you to look awful on your last days here, right?” He tried to lighten the mood.

“Right.” Maya smiled at him. “Want to grab a bite before we head home?”

“Of course, darling!” He beamed, “I still need to update my devilgram story!”

She laughed. “Well, what are we waiting for? let’s go!” It was now her turn to grab his hand and lead her out of the classroom.

Asmo didn’t point out that her laugh was forced that day.

Beelzebub found her in the kitchen on Friday, fixing herself a cup of coffee.

“Maya.” He called out, walking over to her side at the kitchen counter.

She turned around when she heard his voice. “Oh hey, Beel! Good morning.” She greeted. “Fancy a cup of coffee with me? There’s also some leftover pasta in the fridge from last night’s dinner If you want.”

Beel eyed the obvious exhaustion prominent across her face. The bags under her eyes are noticeable now; dark, angry. Her eyes were glossed over and puffy; Beel would’ve guessed it was from recent crying.

“I think you really shouldn’t drink any coffee right now.” He told her, taking away her mug and downing the hot beverage down his throat. The drink burned his throat a bit, but he didn’t care.

“Hey!” Maya weakly protested, pouting that her coffee got taken away. “Why not?!” she questioned him.

“You look exhausted, Maya.” Beel pointed out. “Is there something bothering you recently? Having trouble with your tasks?”

Maya shook her head. “I just have a lot on my mind Beel, I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“If you say so.” Beel nodded, moving toward the fridge. “Are you hungry?”

“Not really,” She told him. “I just ate.”

The demon hummed, opening the fridge and leaned down, practically inhaling whatever food that’s in there.

Maya leaned on the kitchen counter, picking on her nails as she listened to Beel’s rapid consumption of the fridge’s contents.

“Do you miss them?”

Maya looked back at his patch of orange hair that’s peeking out from behind the fridge door.

“Who?”

“Your family.”

Maya stayed silent for a moment. Beel stopped eating and turned to look at her.

“..Maya?”

Maya jumped when he suddenly called her name. “oh! Uh-” She cleared her throat. “I do, actually.”

Beel stood up and closed the fridge. There were bread crumbs on his cheeks.

“I just don’t think that they feel the same way for me.”

Saturday rolled in and Maya was being dragged away by the youngest brother.

“Belphegor, what are you doing?” Maya asked him, wrist sore from being tugged on too much.

He remained silent, his boots clicking on the steps as they ascended further into the stairway that led to the attic.

“Belph, I’m not in the mood to argue with you right now.” She told him. Her hand was going numb by the tightness of the demon’s grip.

“I’m not looking for a fight, Maya.” He retorted, opening the door to the attic and dragging her inside.

“Then what do you want?!” She tugged her hand free of his grasp. The blood slowly rushed back into her hand, her fists clenching.

“Beel’s concerned about you,” Belphie stated.

Maya went quiet.

Of course, Belphegor knew. It couldn’t be helped though, the twins are psychic.

The Avatar of Sloth decided to press further. “Maya, when was the last time you slept?”

She averted her eyes, choosing to look down on the cool wood flooring of his attic.

“I don’t know.”

He sighed, motioning for her to lay down on the bed. She hesitated, yet she eventually gave in.

She lay on the soft mattress of Belphie’s bed, the smell of fresh linen reaching her nose. She let out a breath.

Belphie then laid down beside her, sighing in content when his body landed on the silky sheets.

“I don’t get you,” Maya started, rolling over to her side to face him. “One day you’re breathing down my neck, looking for every chance to try and annoy me into snapping back, and the next you’re worried about me, dragging me into the attic, your attic, and insisting that I need to rest.”

“Because,” Belphie paused, thinking about what he wants to say next. “Because believe it or not you matter to me. No, to us. We care about you."

She hummed, rolling over once again so her back faces him. He scoots closer, choosing to place his arm over her waist; a sign of content, a sign of acceptance that they’re finally on the same page.

“Is there a reason why you can’t sleep?” Belphie asked. “If I may ask, does it have anything to do about you leaving on Monday?”

He could feel her stiffen beside him, relaxing a bit when he started to stroke her hair. The bleached part of her hair was almost gone now; she had cut it a month or two back when it started to become too long. She sighed.

“I don’t want to go home.”

“Then stay,” He offered. “Stay here with me and Beel.”

“I can’t,” Maya whispered.

“Then let’s just sleep.” Belphie closed his eyes. “You can do that for me, right?”

“I’ll try.”

Everything seemed fine on Sunday.

Lucifer offered to walk with her to the Demon Lord’s castle that day; They were heading over there to deal with her remaining paperwork so she could go back home without any issues.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, “You seem tense.”

Maya let out a shaky breath.

“I feel nervous, Luci.”

They walked through one of the streets in the Devildom. Maya could recognize a face or two from the bustling crowd in the stores; Demons she had acquainted with at RAD once. The lights from the streetlamps glowed above them, like little stars that twinkled in the night sky back in the human world. Back home.

The Avatar of Pride extended his hand, hovering ever so slightly above hers. “I could hold your hand if that would make you feel better.”

It did. A smile crept across Maya’s face when she felt his fingers laced with her own. Maya can feel the callouses on his palms; rough, yet so soft at the same time.

When they finally arrived in front of the castle grounds, the other exchange students were with Barbatos right outside the door waiting for them.

“Maya!” Luke called out in joy, moving away from his spot beside Simeon to run towards her.

“Go on,” Lucifer ushered her, hands finally pulling away. Maya missed the warmth of his hands against her cold ones.

The two met and engulfed each other in a tight hug, with Maya picking the little angel up to spin him around.

“Hello, Luke!” She greeted, as Luke giggled in her embrace. He smelled like freshly baked cookies and butter.

“Aren’t you excited?” The angel gawked at her. “We’re finally going home!”

Maya didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth.

She placed him down, and they headed over to the others, with Lucifer following right behind.

“How’s my favorite magic man?” Maya grinned at Solomon, raising a hand to give him a high-five.

“Nice to see you too, Maya.” He chuckled.

“Hello, Maya.” Simeon moved over and placed his hand on her head.

“Hello to you too, Simeon.”

“It seems that everyone is already here,” Barbatos hummed, pushing the doors leading to inside the demon lord’s castle.

“Come,” The demon butler gestured them all to come in. “Lord Diavolo is waiting.”

It was now Maya’s turn to be in the Lord Diavolo’s presence and her body involuntarily shook. She didn’t even know why she was shaking; She’s on good terms with the demon prince, even formed a close friendship along the way, so what was she even nervous about? The angels and Solomon saw her nervous stature and gave her a comforting look. She nodded at them in a silent thanks, before heading inside Diavolo’s office.

The moment she stepped inside, she was immediately engulfed in a big bear hug.

“Hello, Lord Diavolo.” Maya relaxed in his arms, letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She has this strange feeling of safety despite the fact that she’s being hugged by the demon lord himself.

Lord Diavolo let out a booming laugh, “You look different,” He held up his large hand to hold her cheek. He frowned. “And pale. Have you been sleeping well?”

She shook her head. “It’s fine, my lord. I can just get back the sleep I lost once I go back home.”

“How many times do I need to tell you that you can call me Dia just fine?” Lord- no, Diavolo held her hand and guided her to his desk. Maya noticed Lucifer standing in a corner; calm, composed. He nodded at her in greeting.

“Okay, but it’s your fault if Lucifer punishes me later for calling you so informally.”

Diavolo chuckled and let her sit down on the seat across from him, and sat back in his chair as well.

“First things first,” He started, reaching for his drawer to grab something. “Do you want a lollipop?”

Maya raised her brow, a smile crept on her face in disbelief. She huffed a laugh.

“I’m kidding!” Diavolo laughed, putting it back. “That one’s saved for Luke.” He opened another drawer, finally fishing out her papers and grabbing a fountain pen that was sitting on his desk.

“Tell me, how was your stay here in the Devildom?” He asked as he flipped through the pages, wrote something down, then flipped once more.

“It’s alright,” Maya answered. She could hear the faint scribbling of his pen against the paper. Diavolo hummed, contemplating. “Any troubles with the students?”

She shrugged, fidgeting in her seat. She could feel a headache coming in soon. “The constant ruckus of them brawling with the brothers in an attempt to eat me alive, I am used to.” She explained. “Them not eating me and befriending me instead though… That’s new.”

Diavolo sighs, pausing whatever he writes in her papers. “I apologize for the trouble that must’ve caused you.”

“It’s okay, Dia.” She assured him.

The demon prince leaned back, stretching his back and fixing his posture. “I think we’re almost done here. Is there anything you want to suggest if ever there’s a chance for the exchange student program to start again next year?” He questioned.

“Other than sending my deepest condolences to the next human exchange student because they’re about to babysit the brothers for a whole year, no.”

That sent both her and the demon lord in a fit of laughter. Maya can hear Lucifer chuckle from his corner.

“Thank you, Maya.” Diavolo smiled. “Thank you for making this exchange program possible. Because of you, the program was a success. You can join the others outside now.”

Maya stood up from her seat and bowed at the Demon Lord. “Thank you as well.”

“For what?”

“For choosing me.”

Diavolo smiled. “My pleasure.”

Maya started to head over to the door when she stopped in her tracks.

Something was wrong.

She blinked. Once, twice. Everything seemed so blurry all of a sudden. The two demons behind her stared at her in confusion. “Maya?” Lucifer called her. “Are you okay?”

Maya looked back at them, squinting to try and refocus her eyes. Her head was pounding like someone dropped a bag of bricks on it. “Yeah, I'm just-” She tried to assure him, a hand raising to give him a thumbs up. “I’m just tired, that’s all.” Her hand was shaking violently.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” It was Diavolo’s turn to ask her, rising from his seat in alarm, concerned.

“I’m-”

And then everything she ever felt that week suddenly came down at her, coming together to form the worst migraine she ever experienced. The room blurred more, with splotches of black mixed in her obscured vision. She felt dizzy. She felt sick. The last thing she saw before the darkness consumed her was a blurry Diavolo, running over to catch her from falling.

After all, the human body could only endure so much.

When Maya regained consciousness, she found herself wrapped up in a soft blanket. She sat up, shrugging the blanket off her upper half, despite her head violently protesting. She squinted, eye-ing her surroundings in an attempt to figure out where she is. The moonlight illuminated the room she was in, making it easy for her to look around.

There are large paintings hung up on the walls of people Maya couldn’t recognize, her vision still slightly blurry. She looked down; the bed she woke up in was massive, like she could roll over it for hours and won’t even fall off. Like it’s fit for a king.

For a king.

Maya immediately realized who this bed belonged to. She tensed, eyes frantically searching the room for him.

And then their eyes met; dark brown eyes swimming, drowning in his golden orbs, like two suns shining down on the Earth. Warm, loving, relieved.

Diavolo sat on a chair beside the bed, his bed, hand reaching over to hold hers tight. A look of relief was evident on his face as he let out a breath he’s been holding.

He called for Barbatos to go get the others, her hand still in his as if she would disappear if he dared to let go.

“I’m glad you’re alright.” He smiled.

Maya just stared at him.

“What happened?”

Diavolo frowned, “You suddenly collapsed. I had Barbatos prepare my bed and I carried you all the way here. I also had him inform the brothers as well. You’ve been asleep ever since.”

She furrowed her brows, “How long was I out?”

“Twenty hours, give or take.”

The moment Barbatos announced that Maya was alright, everyone immediately scrambled over to the demon lord’s chambers, door opening so violently it would probably come off of its hinges.

“Maya!” Mammon cried, rushing over to where she laid and hugged her tight, his wet tears dampening her shirt. Asmodeus followed suit, bawling loudly next to his white-haired brother. His tears stained his face, but he didn’t seem to mind at all.

Leviathan and Satan rushed in next, roughly shoving each other when they both entered the door at the same time in an attempt to free themselves from getting stuck.

The twins went in after them; Beelzebub was shaking violently, big fat tears rolling down his face. His hand grasped Belphegor’s tightly. His twin visibly winced at his grip.

Lucifer entered last, sighing in disbelief at his brothers’ behavior, but nevertheless relieved that Maya is finally awake. Barbatos is beside him, face stoic as ever. His eyes met hers, a silent message shared between them.

‘I’m glad you’re alright.’

Maya said nothing.

“Sorry about the mess,” The oldest brother sighed, closing the door behind him. “The others are going to follow shortly; Simeon and Solomon are still trying to comfort Luke.”

“What were you thinking?!” Levi exclaimed, “We were so worried about you, you normie!”

“You scared us, Maya!” Mammon sniffled beside her, “Please don’t ever do that again, ya hear me?”

Maya smiled.

And then she laughed.

And then the tears started falling.

The brothers rushed over and sat on the corner of the Demon Prince’s bed in alarm.

“Oh no, honey!” Asmo wailed as Maya tried so hard to wipe her tears. She couldn’t help it, it won’t stop flowing out.

“I’m sorry,” She choked, “I’m so sorry.”

Every time a tear strayed down her flushed cheeks, a part of her goes with it.

They all sat in silence, giving her a chance to break down her walls and finally let it all out. Diavolo squeezed her hand gently, quietly telling her that it’s okay to talk about it.

“I’m just so tired,” Maya told them, hiccuping every now and then as her body trembled in Mammon and Asmo’s arms. “I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can’t even get out of my own damn bed. Heck, I couldn’t even barely process anything. There are so many things running in my head right now. So many things, and it’s driving me insane. It’s making me feel afraid. I don’t want to go back home, I don’t want to be alone again. I know I can’t stay, but the place I live in back home can’t even be called a home. No light, no warmth, no one to go back home to. But here… I feel like I belong, like I have a family that cared about me and I… I love you guys so much that I’m afraid to lose it all.”

When she was finished, nobody uttered a word. Maya tensed, scared.

“I’m sorry,” She sucked in a breath. Her throat was sore from all the crying. “I shouldn’t have-”

She was suddenly engulfed by all of the brothers in what seemed like the best hug she ever had in her entire life; They weren’t like the hugs they would give her every time they go their separate ways in RAD’s hallways, they weren’t like the hugs they would give her whenever they would laugh when someone cracks a joke.

No, this hug was special.

It made her feel loved for the first time.

“Maya!” They all cooed, “We love you too!”

Maya burst into tears.

By the time they all broke their hug after what seemed like hours, the door opened once more as Barbatos let the angels and Solomon in.

Luke was sobbing in Simeon’s arms, making little hand gestures at Maya in an attempt to reach her.

“Barbatos told us what happened,” Simeon moved towards her and gave her a look of understanding. “I’m sorry you had to go through all of that.”

Maya weakly nodded, “It’s okay, Simeon. It’s not your fault.”

“Maya!” Luke sniffled, finally calming down when Simeon placed him on the bed next to her. “Thank God you’re alright now!”

She smiled at him, running her fingers through his soft blond hair. “I’m sorry for making you worry, Luke. Will you accept my apology?”

“Apology accepted!” The little angel cried, hugging her tight.

It was time for all of them to go back home. They all exchanged one final hug with Maya. Lucifer insisted her to stay in Diavolo’s room that night, the oldest brother convinced that she needed to rest before going back home.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t go home with you all tonight.” Maya told them, “I hope you all have a safe trip back home.” She ran her fingers through Luke’s hair one last time.

“No worries,” Simeon hummed, “It’s okay to rest every once in a while.”

“I’ll promise to write to you every day!” Luke declared, eyes watering a bit. “You better read them.”

“Oh, Luke.” Maya softened, kissing the angel’s forehead. “I will cherish them all.”

Luke beamed.

“Well I guess this is goodbye,” She nodded at Solomon.

“This isn’t goodbye, Maya,” The sorcerer assured her, “It’s more like a “See you later” thing, you know? We’ll see each other again - I promise.” He winked.

“Thank you for listening to me.”

“No, thank you,” They told her. “Thank you for trusting us.”

After they were escorted back outside by Barbatos, It was now the brothers’ turn to say goodbye.

“I’m seriously going to miss you guys.” Maya smiled at them.

“You better!” Mammon was tearing up again beside her.

Maya sighed, lifting her hand to wipe away his tear. “It’ll be fine, Mammon. I’m sure I can still see you sooner or later.”

A thought formed in her head, “Which reminds me…” Her hand dove under the sheets and fished out her wallet. “Here, you can have it.” She placed it on the demon’s hands.

“What?”

“You can have it,” Maya repeated, a smile forming on her face. “Besides, I can’t exactly use Grimm back home, right?”

Mammon sniffled, then immediately threw his hands around her. He was crying now.

“Oi, normie,” Levi called her, “Don’t you dare forget about us.”

“Oh Levi,” Maya motioned him to come closer so he too can join their hug. “How could I forget you?”

The avatar of envy averted his eyes, blushing immensely, before finally joining them.

Satan stepped forward and ruffled her hair. “Do you still want the books I’ll lend you?”

Maya can’t stop smiling. “Always.”

The blonde hummed, “I’m gonna miss you, Maya.” He then moved away.

Asmo practically threw himself over Maya, landing against his two older brothers.

“Hey! Watch it!” Mammon growled from under him.

“Asmo-”

“Maya!” He bawled, peppering Maya’s face with kisses. “Take care of yourself more okay? Remember to drink enough water and eat!”

Maya laughed, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “I promise, Asmo.”

The three demons immediately pulled away from their hug when they saw Beel approaching at a rapid pace. They didn’t want to get crushed by the Avatar of Gluttony’s huge stature.

“Hey there big guy,” Maya whispered, chuckling a bit when he trapped her in a bone-crushing hug.

“If you can, talk to your family for me?” He muttered, his purple eyes glossed over.

Maya closed her eyes. She sighed, “I’ll try, Beel.”

Belphie slid in between them, “So, can we all three sleep together now?”

Maya giggled, gently patting the youngest brother’s soft hair. “Soon, Belph. Soon.”

When they both finally pulled away, Lucifer approached her.

“If anything goes wrong,” He cupped her cheek with his gloved hand. “Just remember that you’ll always have a home with me. With us.”

She softened in his touch. Those were the words she always wanted to hear.

“Thank you,” She breathed, “I needed to hear that.”

“Anytime.” The oldest brother gave her one of his rare smiles, stepping back.

“I shall escort you seven to the door now,” Barbatos announced, reminding the brothers that it is time to go.

“See you later, Maya!” Mammon grinned, walking towards the door with the others.

“I’ll leave her to you, my Lord.” Lucifer nodded towards Diavolo, who was beside Barbatos.

“Don’t worry,” Diavolo assured them, “She’s in good hands.”

“Good night, Barb!” Maya called out to the demon butler as he accompanied the brothers outside. Barbatos smiled at her, before closing the door.

Diavolo was the only one that stayed behind.

“Move over,” He blurted out.

“What?”

“Move over. I want to cuddle you.”

“Tell me something about yourself.”

“Like what?”

“What did you like to do back home?”

Maya hummed, thinking hard. “I liked listening to theater.”

“Really?” Diavolo’s eyes shone in astonishment beside her, arms holding her close. “Can you tell me more?”

She giggled, amused at his reactions. “I had a dog while growing up. From what I can recall, I think we named him Kev. He was tiny; like a little white cloud zooming around in my family’s kitchen. Yet he had these big blue eyes; two sapphires, my mother would call them. But five-year old-Maya thought otherwise. They told me I thought of them as planets.” She paused, “I wish I had more memories of him to tell you. He passed away when I was eight.”

“I’m sure he was a good dog,” Diavolo assured her, a hand reaching up to play with her hair.

“He was one of the best,” Maya smiled at the memory.

“How long are you going to stay here?” She asked him.

“Until you fall asleep,” Diavolo answered. He was resting his chin on her head now.

“It’s okay if you need to go,” Maya sighed, “I know you’re busy running the Devildom. You’ve done so much for me already. You probably think of me as a burden right now.”

“No, you’re not.” He told her, “I won’t hate you. I won’t think of you as a burden. I know you think that’s what you deserve but it’s not. I want to stay with you.”

“Stay with me?” Maya repeated.

“As long as I get to hold your hand,” The demon prince chuckled, sheepish.

“Okay.”

Maya’s heart was caught in her throat when Diavolo’s hand slipped into hers, intertwining their fingers together.

It wasn’t weird. It wasn’t wrong. It was Diavolo.

They stayed like that for a while, relaxing in the comfortable silence. Diavolo suddenly broke the stillness when he breathed out a laugh.

Maya looked up at him, “What’s on your mind?” She questioned.

He smiled, “You.”

At that moment Maya realized that he was close. So close.

Diavolo seemed to notice it too. He leaned in, ever so carefully. He stopped when his lips were barely touching hers.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispered.

One look in their eyes and nothing more is said. They could tell they both wanted the same thing; the look they both had is what gave it away.

And then their lips met.

Their kiss was not at all the same as those romance movies Maya watched with the brothers. It wasn’t anything like how they described it in Satan’s novels. It didn’t feel like those rough kisses she had heard in Asmo’s stories.

This one was different. This one was soft.

It felt like laying in bed after a long day. It felt like rain in summer. It felt like the first bite into warm bread. It felt like living.

Yeah, Maya found her place. That place was wherever Diavolo was.

It was Monday when Maya woke up back in her apartment.

She was cold, she was alone. But she was loved.

She smiled.

Oh, so loved.

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calpalirwin · 4 years

Text

Crash and Burn

Summary: Ashton wasn’t the type to consider himself unlucky when it came to love. It was actually quite the opposite. He loved the thrill the was trying to find The One.

A/N: I’m a ho for both this picture and for Thomas Rhett music (hence the title) so here’s a (significantly shorter) angsty Ash blurb for y’all!

Content: Surprisingly cuss-word free? Al-fuckin-right!

Word count: 1,400-ish (told ya it was on the short side)

And away, and away we go!

~~~

Ashton didn’t have it in him anymore to be heartbroken as the door slammed. A year ago he would’ve been. A year ago he would’ve sat on his couch and stared blankly at the wall for hours as the tears fell and his mind raced over what he could’ve done differently. A year ago a full bottle of whiskey would slowly drain as he burned out her memory.

But this wasn’t a year ago. This was today. And that was the eighth girl. And he just didn’t have it in him to feel the pain anymore.

He sat down on the couch anyway, a dry chuckle leaving his lips. “Looks like you’re a solitary man again, mate,” he told himself as he continued to chuckle.

He knew better now. He knew that the girls could leave and his world would keep on spinning. It would spin him right into number nine and number nine would spin him right back here in a matter of months.

He should be bitter. Or jaded at the very least. But he wasn’t. He wasn’t even numb. He was… dare he say… hopeful. Hopeful that number nine wasn’t the lover he let crash and burn.

~~~

“I can’t do this anymore!” Girl One cried, her tears splashing on the hardwood floor.

“Do what?!”Ashton had responded, his hands pulling at his hair in frustration.

“You’re never home! And when you are it’s like your mind is somewhere else!”

“Baby, I can’t be with you every second of every day!”

“I’m not asking you to!”

“You kinda are…” Ashton said, his voice dropping.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she repeated, her voice a disappointed whisper as the door slammed shut behind her.

Ashton screamed.

~~~

“Nine shots?” Calum asked skeptically.

“One for every door slam,” Ashton replied, raising up the first shot glass.

Calum shrugged, grabbing a shot glass himself. No way he was letting Ashton pound nine shots on his own. “To girls breaking our hearts.”

“To crashing and burning,” Ashton nodded, clinking the glass and feeling the burn down his throat.

~~~

“You’re suffocating me!” Girl Seven screamed.

Ashton’s fingers clung to the tabletop to keep himself upright. Seven, seven, seven. Can’t get it right, can’t get it right, can’t get it right. Say something. Anything.

The door slammed and the tears splashed onto his fingertips.

The whiskey poured and the cycle spun on.

~~~

“But there’s only been eight girls,” Calum pointed out with a wince, swallowing the fourth shot. “Why do you have nine?”

“For good luck,” Ashton said with a wink, slamming down the last shot. He let out a breath, feeling the burn flow through his body.

“Didn’t she just leave this morning? And you’re already on the hunt for the next one?”

Ashton shrugged. “Yeah, so?”

“Has it ever occurred to you that things aren’t working out with these girls because you need to slow down?”

Ashton shrugged again. “Heartbreak has made you bitter, Cal.”

“As it should.”

Ashton shook his head, a wild grin on his face. “Nah, you got it all wrong. The right girl’s out there. And I’m not missing my chance to see if she’s here.”

“Buddy, you’ll crash and burn again if you keep doing this to yourself.”

“Maybe I will. Maybe I won’t. But I won’t know if I sit here with you all night.”

Calum rolled his eyes and scanned the bar, spotting a girl who threw back a shot with a grin that rivaled the one on his friend’s face. If Ashton wasn’t going to listen to reason, he might as well go after a girl who seemed as reckless with her heart as he was. “There,” Calum said, nodding his head in the girl’s direction. “Her.”

Ashton followed the brown-eyed gaze towards the girl who had her hands up as she twirled her hips to the music blaring out the jukebox. “Good eye, Cal,” Ashton said, slapping a hand on the table as he stood up, his rings giving out a small thud as they connected with the wood.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” he flirted, leaning a hand against the jukebox, trying his best to look cool.

“Hey, handsome,” she flirted back, eyeing him up and down.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing by herself?”

“I’m not by myself. I’m with you."

~~~

Y/N was wild in a way Ashton hadn’t encountered before. He’s dated shy and quiet. He’s dated crazy and loud. The clingers. The independent ones. You name it, he dated it. And while each girl was different from the last, Y/N was the one he couldn’t pin down. It was like she was a mixture of every girl he had ever dated rolled into one. She could be cuddly and soft one minute and then hard as stone the next. She could say some of the dumbest jokes and the most poetic thoughts. She was… well she was like him. And it drove him the best kind of crazy.

At six months she was the longest relationship he had managed to keep, having weathered the storm that was him leaving for two months to go tour.

He was teetering on the edge of deciding if he just liked her a lot or if it was actually love. And he was terrified. He held back from saying those words, knowing once he did there was no going back. He held back, waiting for the end to come like it always did. Like the cycle demanded. The crash. The burn.

But then, she was dancing in the kitchen, in nothing but his shirt, and it just slipped. “I love you, Y/N,” he chuckled, taking her hand and spinning her in a circle.

Her eyes went wide at his admission, and he fought to keep his face neutral while his brain screamed. But then, she just smiled up at him. “Aw, I love you too, Ash.”

~~~

“Happy anniversary,” he said, sliding a key across the table towards her.

Her eyebrows shot up over the rim of her coffee mug. “What is this?”

“A key.”

She rolled her eyes and reached for it. “What’s the significance, Ash? Is this a ‘I’m tired of keeping my door unlocked for you’ key? Or a ‘move in with me’ key?” The key twirled in her fingers.

He shrugged. “What type of key do you want it to be?” He knew what type of key he wanted it to be. But, even with the “I love you” out, he was still hesitant. This was a love he didn’t want to let go of. So his default was to play indifferent. Put forward small pieces of himself and let her do with those pieces as she saw fit.

Her eyes narrowed.

He kept his face blank as he leaned forward. “I love you, Y/N.”

“If you love me, then tell me what this key is for.”

“It’s for the front door.”

The coffee cup slammed down, and he winced. No, no, no. The crash. No, no, no. “You’re insane,” she scoffed, standing up from her seat.

His brain started screaming as the deja vu washed over him. He stayed frozen in his own seat. His eyes scanned his cupboards, searching for the comforting burn, and not finding it. Stupid sobriety. No, no, no.

The tear broke like glass against the table as door slammed and the windows rattled.

The choked sob worked itself out. “NO!” His fists came down hard on the table, more tears shattering like his heart. “No,” he said in a broken whisper, getting up. This time he was doing what he never did for girls one through eight. He was going after her.

He was about to rip the door open when it pushed inwards towards him. What?

“Were you crying?” she asked, a giggle bubbling up inside her.

He hurriedly wiped at his face. “No. What were you doing?”

“Checking that the key worked. What were y- Did you think I left you? Were you coming after me?”

He cleared his throat and rubbed at his neck. “No,” he lied.

She smiled that wild smile of hers and pecked at his lips. “Yeah, you were. So, you like love me love me, huh?”

He let out a small chuckle. “Maybe.”

“Ash, haven’t you learned by now that this is a fire that won’t burn out?”

He pulled her into his arms, kissing her deeply, thinking about how the only crashing he wanted to do was crashing into bed, and loving her through the night straight into the end of his days.

#crash and burn #ashton irwin #ashton fic #5sos #galcal irwin

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beiovaz · 5 years

Text

A Crack In Time 4/?

It’s been a while and I’m really sorry about the wait, college has been slowly sucking my life away but I’m now back with another chapter.

When she was seven years old a man in a box fell from the sky and crash-landed in her best friends garden, and promised her that he would return in five minutes, now nineteen years old and twelve years late the Doctor returns to best friends Hollie and Amy and quickly learns that they're no longer the seven-year-old girls he met five minutes ago in body but possibly at heart. Unable to leave them alone with the strange crack the Doctor invites them in his magical time and space machine while he figures out what the crack in time and space actually is.

AO3 | Wattpad | Spoiler Series

The Doctor tossed the phone to Hollie before he walked out of one of the wards. "Where are you going?" Amy asked.

"The roof." He answered before spotting the sign 'locker room'. He grinned and headed through the doors. "No, hang on." He replied.

"What's in here?" Amy asked.

"I'm saving the world - I need a decent shirt." He called over his shoulder. "To hell with the raggedy. Time to put on a show."

"You just summoned aliens back to Earth. Actual aliens, deadly aliens, aliens of death," Hollie's eyes widened as the Doctor undid the buttons on his shirt before slipping the old tie off. "And now you're taking your clothes off." Hollie quickly covered her eyes while Amy just stared. "Amy, he's taking his clothes off."

"Turn your back if it embarrasses you." He told them.

Hollie quickly spun around, wishing to give the Doctor his privacy while Amy just kept staring.

"Are you stealing clothes now?" Rory asked. "Those clothes belong to people, you know." He looked at Amy. "Are you not going to turn your back?"

"No." She grinned.

After the embarrassment of the Doctor stripping all his clothes off and getting a new pink shirt, trousers and picking up several different ties the four-headed to the roof of the hospital.

"Was this a good ide Doctor?" Hollie asked. "Because they were leaving and did stop cooking the planet.

The Doctor nodded. "Leaving is good. Never coming back is better." He stepped forward, the ties hanging loosely around his neck. "Come on, then! The Doctor will see you now."

Hollie rolled her eyes and laughed slightly at his comment before her eyes widened and she stepped back as a large eyeball dropped onto the roof and scanned the Doctor.

"You are not of this world." The Atraxi stated.

The Doctor nodded in agreement. "No, but I've put a lot of work into it." He looked at his selection of ties and held a few up. "Oh, hmm, I don't know. What do you think?" He asked the eyeball before shaking his head and muttering something about the eye before looking at Hollie and Amy. "Thoughts?"

"Don't like the colour." Hollie shook her head at a tie the Doctor held up. The Doctor nodded and tossed the tie to her and grinned as she easily caught it.

"Is this world important?" The Atraxi asked.

"Important?" The Doctor repeated. "What's that mean, important?" He questioned. "Six billion people live here. Is that important? Here's a better question. Is this world a threat to the Atraxi?" Hollie raised an eyebrow wondering what the Doctor was doing. "Well, come on. You're monitoring the whole planet. Is this world a threat?"

A projection of the world appeared between the Doctor and the Atraxi before it disappeared and was replaced by tanks, people with guns and explosives. "No."

"Are the peoples of this world guilty of any crime by the laws of the Atraxi?"

"No."

"Okay." The Doctor nodded while tossing a couple of ties in the direction of the humans, Hollie and Amy both giggled when a tie hit Rory right in the face. "One more. Just one. Is this world protected? Because you're not the first lot to come here. Oh, there have been so many." They watched as projections of different aliens showed up. Hollie's eyes widened seeing the Daleks, she looked over at Amy and frowned, how could she not bat an eyelid at them? They were half scared to death when the metal salt shakers appeared in the sky. "And what you've got to ask is, what happened to them?"

The projection then switched and Hollie and Amy both frowned as ten different faces appeared on screen, each of different men before the image stopped and the Doctor stepped through the projection and smiled when the projection disappeared. Hollie blinked not even noticing that he had placed on a tweed jacket he had bought up. She glanced at Amy as the ginger looked over at her and they both smiled before looking back at the Doctor who just stood there, staring at the eyeball, he didn't even look scared.

"Hello." He greeted. "I'm the Doctor." He chuckled slightly. "Basically, run."

The humans watched with the Doctor as the eyeball returned back to its ship before it quickly disappeared.

Hollie frowned and looked up at the sky not even able to see it any more while Amy looked over to the Doctor, or rather where the Doctor was before he disappeared off the roof. "Doctor?" She frowned. Hollie looked over at Amy and Rory before spinning around, he had gone. "He's gone." She looked over at Hollie.

The blonde shook her head. "No." She swallowed hard and ran to the fire exit. "No, no, no!" She shouted, running down the stairs, hoping that she could catch up to him and stop him from leaving. "Doctor she shouted as she heard a wheezing sound grow louder the closer she got to Amy's house. The blonde froze when she saw what looked like a ghost of the blue box disappear. "No." She whispered and sunk to her knees in front of the mark the box left behind in the grass.

Amy swallowed hard and stopped, seeing Hollie, slowly she walked up to her friend and pulled her up to stand, tightly hugging her. Hollie refused to give up the Doctor, she lost so many friends, jobs and a few boyfriends after they found out she believed in an 'imaginary man' she lost practically everything. The only thing she had left with her art and Amy and Rory, no one else believed her, why should they believe a 19-year-olds seven-year-old selves story against the hard cold reality, to them, time and space travel wasn't real so neither could the 'Raggedy Doctor'.

---

Two years later Hollie and Amy sat on the Scottish gingers bed laughing at a joke Amy had just said before the ginger sighed and looked up at the dress hanging from her wardrobe. "I can't believe it's tomorrow." She mumbled before looking at Hollie. "I don't know if I'm ready for it."

The blonde smiled and stared at the dress for a moment before looking at her friend. "You love Rory don't you?"

"Of course I do." Amy frowned. "Why would you say that?"

"Why are you worrying if you love him then?" Hollie asked and tilted her head ever so slightly.

"I'm just scared." She admitted. "It's just been the four of us for so long now." She shrugged. "You, me, Mels and Rory and from tomorrow it's just me and Rory."

"And I'll be at the wedding." Hollie laughed.

"It's a shame Mels can't have a prison furlough."

"Well, she did steal a police car after being on her last furlough for the engagement party." Hollie shrugged.

"You stole a fire engine with the Doctor!" Amy protested.

"No." Hollie shook her head. "I didn't the Doctor did and it was borrowing, not stealing."

"Did you return it?"

"Well no-"

"Stealing."

Hollie huffed before looking down at her hands. "I miss him, Ames."

Amy sighed and took her friend's hand. "I know Hollie, I miss him too."

"No." Hollie smiled slightly. "Not like you, not an 'Amy missing' someone. I miss him differently. After he saved the world I couldn't stop thinking..."

Hollies best friends eyes widened. "You like him!"

"I don't!"

"Admit it!" Amy pointed at her.

"No!" Hollie replied.

"Because you like him." She laughed. "Hollie and the Doctor sitting-"

"Okay, okay." Hollie cut her off. "Maybe. I don't know, I'm still mad he left and didn't come back. I thought he would you know, he promised us."

"Twelve years before seeing us again. He probably changed his mind."

Hollie shrugged and Amy smiled. "Maybe though?" She lightly nudged her friend with her shoulder. "Maybe what?"

"Maybe I do like him." She rolled her eyes.

"I knew it!" Amy laughed and jumped up from her bed, skipping around her room. "I knew it, you like the Doctor."

"Only a little bit." Hollie protested, now standing up as well. "It's nothing though, he isn't coming back."

"He might do." Amy shrugged.

"He's going to be off somewhere saving a planet like in our stories we made up when we were kids-"

Amys' eyes grew wide when she heard a faint wheezing noise. "Or not." She grinned.

"Or what?" Hollie frowned, staring at her friend who ran towards the window and moved the curtain slightly.

"Amy if this is some trick." Hollie said to her friend as she rubbed her eyes to check that she wasn't dreaming."

"No!" Amy shouted happily and ran down the stairs. "Not a trick, this is real Hollie, he's here, he's back!"

Hollie grinned and grabbed the light pink dressing gown from Amy's bed before she ran down the stairs, forcing her arms in the dressing gown in the process. Hollie stopped behind Amy who had stopped and was staring at the Doctor who stood in front of his box, looking at it. "Sorry about running off earlier." The Doctor called to them. "Brand new Tardis. Bit exciting. Just had a quick hop to the moon and back to run her in. She's ready for the big stuff now."

"It's you," Hollie said, walking up to him with Amy. "It's actually you, you're back."

"Course I came back." He frowned. "I always come back. Something wrong with that?"

Amy looked him up and down. "And you kept the clothes."

"Well, I just saved the world." He shrugged. "The whole planet, for about the millionth time, no charge. Yeah, shoot me. I kept the clothes."

"Including the bow tie." Amy eyed it.

"Yeah, it's cool." He smiled and fixed his bow tie. "Bow ties are cool."

Hollie smiled. "I like it." She announced before shaking her head and frowning. "Doctor, are you from another planet?"

"Yeah."

Amy looked at Hollie who shrugged, they both then looked back at him. "Okay."

"So what do you think?"

"Of what?" Amy asked.

"Other planets. Want to check some out?"

Hollie frowned as Amy asked him: "What does that mean?"

"It means, Hollie, Amy come with me."

"Where?"

"Wherever you like."

"All that stuff that happened. The hospital, the spaceships, Prisoner Zero." Hollie began, only to get cut off by the Doctor.

"Oh, don't worry, that's just the beginning." He waved a hand. "There's loads more."

"Yeah, but those things, those amazing things, all that stuff." Hollie started to ramble before she narrowed her eyes and she pointed at him.

Without thinking, Amy slapped him across the cheek. "That was two years ago!" Her eyes widened in horror and she pulled her hand back realising what she had done.

The Doctor jumped back and his eyes widened. "Ow!" He cried and cradled his cheek in his hand. "Guess it isn't just mothers who slap me." He grumbled. "Angry redheads slap me as well."

"That's 'angry Scottish redhead' to you." Amy crossed her eyes.

The Doctor swallowed hard and took in Amy's words. "So that's..."

"Fourteen years!" Both Amy and Hollie shouted at him.

"Fourteen years since fish custard." He sighed. "Amy, and Hollie, the girls who waited, you've waited long enough."

Amy frowned and crossed her arms. "When we were kids, you said there were a swimming pool and a library, and the swimming pool was in the library."

"Yeah. Not sure where it's got to now. It'll turn up. So, coming?"

Hollie opened her mouth to answer but Amy cut in: "No."

"You wanted to come fourteen years ago."

"I grew up," Amy replied.

"Hollie?" The Doctor looked at her.

The blonde looked at Amy before she turned to the Doctor and slowly shook her head. "I'm sorry but I can't." She admitted. "Like Amy said, we grew up."

The Doctor smiled. "Don't worry. I'll soon fix that." He clicked his fingers and the TARDIS door opened.

Amy and Hollie's eyes widened as they stepped into the TARDIS, the orange glow hit their faces as they looked around the large console room.

"Well?" The Doctor asked following them in. "Anything you want to say? Any passing remarks? I've heard them all." He then jumped up the stairs and grinned at the console.

Amy looked down. "I'm in my nightie." She stated.

Hollie laughed and nodded at her friend who was indeed in her 'nightie'. "Knew I was glad to put my dressing gown on."

"Oh, don't worry." The Doctor waved an arm. "Plenty of clothes in the wardrobe. And possibly a swimming pool." He hummed. "So, all of time and space, everything that ever happened or ever will." He looked at them. "Where do you two want to start?"

"You are so sure that we're coming." Amy crossed her arms at him.

"Yeah, I am." He nodded.

Hollie frowned and looked between them as Amy looked at the Doctor. "Why?"

"Cause, Amy you're the Scottish girl in the English village, I know how that feels and you Hollie." He looked at the blonde, "When I met you, you had curls, you may not have them anymore but apart from that you're almost the same, Holls you stayed the same, wanted to come fourteen years ago."

Amy crossed her arms and looked at him through the glass time rotor. "You feel the same?"

"All these years living here, most of your life, and you've still got that accent. Yeah, you're coming." He pointed at her.

"Can you get me back for tomorrow morning?" Amy asked.

"It's a time machine." The Doctor replied and frowned at her. "I can get you back five minutes ago. Why, what's tomorrow?"

Hollie looked over at Amy who quickly answered: "Nothing." She shrugged. "Nothing. Just you know, stuff."

"All right, then." He nodded. "Back in time for stuff." The Doctor looked at Hollie who was still stood by the doors. "You coming with us Holls?"

The blonde smiled and slowly walked up the stairs to the console. The TARDIS hummed and Hollie the Doctor laughed.

"She likes you."

"She?" Hollie asked.

"The TARDIS." He answered." "So coming?"

Hollie nodded. "Course I am, I'm Amy's my best friend and you're right." She sighed. "I still want to come, even after fourteen years."

The Doctor laughed and pointed at her. "Ha!" He then looked at the console as the TARDIS hummed again before the Doctor grinned and snapped up the new, bronze and green sonic screwdriver that popped out of the console. "Oh! A new one! Lovely." He grinned and popped it in his pocket before leaning in and whispering to the console. "Thanks, dear."

Hollie wondered around the console before she frowned and stood beside the Doctor as he started to type on the computer that looked a lot like a typewriter. "Why us?"

"Why not?" The Doctor shrugged.

"No, seriously." Amy cut in. "You are asking us to run away with you in the middle of the night. It's a fair question. Why us?"

"I don't know." He shrugged. "Fun. Do I have to have a reason?"

"People always have a reason." Hollie raised a brow and crossed her arms.

"Do I look like people?"

"Yes." Amy and Hollie both said at the same time.

The Doctor sighed. "Been knocking around on my own for a while. My choice, but I've started talking to myself all the time." He shrugged. "It's giving me earache, plus I feel bad for you two, I made you wait way too long."

"You're lonely and sorry." Amy tilted her head slightly at him. "That's it? Just that?"

"Just that." He nodded. "Promise."

Amy and Hollie looked at each other before they both nodded. "Okay."

"So, are you okay, then?" He asked them. "Because this place, sometimes it can make people feel a bit, you know..."

"I'm fine," Amy answered. "It's just, there's a whole world in here, just like you said. It's all true. I thought. Well, I don't know about Hollie but I started to think that maybe you were just like a madman with a box."

Hollie laughed and nodded. "I'm glad I wasn't the only one thinking that after what happened two years ago."

"Well, Amy Pond, Hollie Aria, there's something you'd better understand about me, because it's important, and one day your life may depend on it." He turned to them. "I am definitely a madman with a box."

The Scottish ginger and the English blonde slowly smiled and the Doctor smiled as well. "Haha! Yeah." He spun around and gripped onto the console. Hollie and Amy followed, grabbing on as well. "Goodbye Leadworth, hello everything." He pulled a lever down. Amy and Hollie both looked up and watched the time rotor go up and down as the Doctor ran around the console.

He was definitely a mad man in a box.

#ACIT #Spoiler Series #Mine #ACITML #dwfic #eleven x oc #doctor who #ch4

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giraffeseattrees · 6 years

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You Found Her Then, You’ll Find Her Again - Part 2/5 - Brittana

Read on FF: PART I, PART II

Summary:

“In a series of moments throughout her life, Santana finds Brittany again and again. With the Karmic Universe pulling the strings, will things ever work in her favor? Five part series.“

Chapter 2: Fifteen

You found her when you were fifteen years old.

You're a sophomore in high school now, and if you thought seven was hard times, man, were you mistaken. Back then, the worst part of your day was helping your abuela mop the entire dance studio. Now, it's sitting through an entire Spanish class with a teacher who knows little to no actual Spanish.

You've also stopped dancing. Well, sort of. Once that light inside dimmed, your parents tried you out for gymnastics. Which brought you to where you are now, captain of the cheer team and overall HBIC. Also long gone are the days of insecurities, you've learned to build a protective shell around every fault. Sometimes though, you catch yourself thinking of dance again. How you were so determined to get better, all for her. For Brittany.

You figured it all out, by the way. The pull. You figured it out when you were thirteen and you received a kiss from another cheerleader during a game of spin the bottle. It felt as if a flip switched inside of you. The power turned on and all of the lights came to life. You're attracted to girls. And Brittany, sweet blonde-haired blue-eyed Brittany, was your first real crush.

You're not exactly out, yet. Lima, Ohio isn't really the most welcoming to your kind, so you keep a lot of your personal life private. The whole secretly dating a cheerleader thing ran its course and eventually faded, but there's no hard feelings there. The girl may be at the bottom of the pyramid now, but that wasn't entirely your doing. It's not your fault she lashed out at Coach Sue after she broke down in the middle of a prep rally. Sure, she only broke down because you broke up with her, but still.

You just didn't feel the pull with her anymore. You felt it when she first kissed you, but even then, it wasn't the same. It wasn't as intense. It didn't encircle you in the same way as Brittany's did. It's sad, but even after all this time, you can't help but compare everything to her. She captivated you then. Completely. Eclipsing everything that comes your way and you let her.

And you've tried, tried, to search for her, but your abuela kept horrible records. There were so many books to look through and even then, you could find only parents' names listed. You had no last name to go by. Just Brittany.

Somedays, you actually wonder to yourself if you've made it all up in your mind. If you've somehow only imagined it, those eyes. At this point, you wouldn't put it past yourself to have developed a brain that would do such a thing so cruel to you. Like some sort of karmic payback.

So, you'd given up searching about a year ago. Instead, you leave it up to fate and the universe.

"Santana?" You open your eyes and Mrs. Pillsbury looks at you with a raised brow. "Did you hear any of what I just said?"

"Not really." You say as you shake your head.

"Were you just… sleeping?" She asks you with a sigh.

You shrug as you answer her, "Yeah, probably."

Her mouth opens slightly in disbelief as you yawn and stretch your arms above your head. "How could you have fallen asleep? I was barely talking for five minutes."

You yawn again and slouch further into your seat as you groan loudly. "Lady, you called me in from the hallway and told me you needed me to run an errand for you. You were about to tell me what to do when you saw a spot of god knows what at the edge of your desk. You've been mumble cleaning it for about," you glance at the clock above her, "thirty minutes."

"What!?" She spins around to check at the clock. "Oh my…"

You chuckle, "Yep."

"Why didn't you say anything, Santana?" She turns back to you and shoot her a look as if it's obvious.

"In what lame alternate reality would I ever pass up a free nap session just to sit in Spanish class and listen to your creepy husband ramble on?"

She doesn't seem fazed by the slight insult to Mr. Schue. If anything, you think you see her shrug lightly as if she were to agree with you. She sits back down and begins to straighten out the pile of papers in front of her. You smile at that and sink back further into your seat to find that comfortable position.

"No, No, No." Mrs. Pillsbury stops you and you groan again. "I won't be tricked a second time."

"There's maybe only fifteen more minutes of class," you try to beg, "Don't make me go. For some sick joke Mr. Schue paired me with JBI for our class assignments. Do you know what that's like? It's absolutely horrible. He stares at me the entire time. THE ENTIRE TIME."

"Relax, Santana. I'm not going to make you go back to class. I need you to run over to the auditorium." She says as she thumbs through some papers on her desk.

You sit up straight and begin to look at your nails. "Why? What's in the auditorium?"

She hands you a folder with some papers in it and you look them over. They're student transfer papers and a counselor evaluation form. You look back at her with a quirked eyebrow.

"Coach Sue requested for you to bring those to her." Mrs. Pillsbury tells you. "You should move quickly. You're already late."

"I can't believe she's just using me as a messenger. I'm the captain, not some lackey." You get up from your seat and scoff. "Being late technically isn't my fault so I'm taking the long way and I'm walking as slowly as I possibly can."

"That's fine, Santana." She waves you off once her eyes fixate on another spot on her desk.

You leave her office and make your way down the hall. You stop by the bathroom to grab a few paper napkins, wetting them first before shoving them into Rachel Berry's locker. You've known her locker combination for about two years now and she still doesn't know it's you that's doing it. You're pretty sure she thinks it's Fabray and that's just an added bonus.

You roam the corridors of the entire school, hall pass in hand from Mrs. Pillsbury, ready to fight off questions from any annoying teachers. Eventually though, you get bored, so you head to the auditorium. Since you went the long way around school, you enter from the audience doors, opposite the stage. When you walk in, you notice the lights aren't all on, save for the few pointing towards the stage. You don't see anyone. You think maybe Coach Sue might've left already, but then you hear them.

It's faint, but you can hear their voices just enough to follow the sounds with your eyes. You squint a little and find the backs of two blonde heads sitting in the front row, dead center. You recognize one of them as your coach and you roll your eyes. Great. Now you have to walk all the way to the front to deliver these to her.

You fall into step and slowly make your way down the auditorium. As you near, you begin to hear their conversation more clearly.

"You won't reconsider?" Sue asks, and the other blonde shakes her head.

"I'm sorry." The blonde sighs, "I know I gave you false hope by meeting with you here. But ultimately, it's not really up to me. My parents are kind of… particular."

Sue nods at that and you're actually surprised at how she's acting, it's not like her usual self. She's not being mean or degrading, it feels almost, warm.

"But I have a cannon that you would fit perfectly." Sue jokes, and it makes the girl beside her giggle.

The giggle. Your body reacts to it as soon as it reaches your ears. It ignites something within you and for the third time in your life, your legs stop working because of it. It can't be, can it? You're about 20 feet away and you allow your eyes linger. You can't see much because it's just the back of her head, but you think she could probably fit the right age. The blonde color of her hair might be a match too, but you don't know anymore. You don't trust yourself. It's been so long, and your imagination could have altered things.

You feel the nerves settle in slow and you shuffle your feet, a weak attempt to wake your legs. Your palms become clammy, and you try your best to discreetly wipe them along the sides of your Cheerios skirt. But your hands betray you as the folder slips from them and falls to the floor.

It doesn't take long for the two blondes to hear you stumble and turn around in their seats. You curse at yourself and quickly gather up the scattered papers.

"Sandbags!" Sue yells out and you pinch the bridge of your nose at the nickname. "Where the hell have you been? We've been waiting for you."

You stand then, slowly. When you're upright, your eyes flutter to the girl beside your coach and your breath catches. She's matured, but it's definitely her. Brittany. Your Brittany. Your blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl. Your eyes scan her features and commit them to memory immediately, not allowing even an inch of space to be taken over by imagination.

Because she's here. Twenty feet in front of you and you don't need to imagine anymore.

You step forward and remember who you are. You hold your composure and clear your throat, in an attempt to steel yourself. You need to play it cool. Her expression stays steady, and you wonder briefly if she's forgotten about you. The thought makes you ache, and you look for clues on her face in hopes of reading her, but there's nothing. No lip twitches, no soft eyes.

Her eyes, they follow you as you step closer, enchanting you, bringing you in. They've changed the most after all these years, but not in a bad way. They're deeper, and more… playful. Feisty. Catlike. They're harder to read.

When you finally stand before them, you have to tear your eyes away from Brittany to look at Sue. You hand Sue the folder and she scoffs, throwing it up in the air behind her.

Confused, you watch as the papers fall to the ground behind the two blondes. You're pretty sure you're going to have to pick those up later. "What the hell?"

"I don't need them anymore." Sue shrugs, "Britt isn't going to be transferring here anyways."

Your chest hammers at that thought. The transfer papers, they were for Brittany. The thought of being in the same vicinity as her five days a week makes your heart soar, but if what Sue said is true, that dream is already dead. Then you realize that all this time while you were nodding off in Mrs. Pillsbury's office, or roaming the halls, you could've been here. With Brittany. Your Brittany.

Fucking karmic universe. You really need to start being nicer to people. If only you'd shown up on time. Maybe you could've done something. You could've helped Sue convince her.

"If it were up to me, I would." Brittany speaks, her eyes are still planted firmly on yours. "You have a great program here. It sucks we'll be competing against each other at Nationals."

Your eyes widen. "You're a cheerleader." You say, not really as a question but more of a statement and she nods. She's a cheerleader and you're a cheerleader. It confuses you though because she's a dancer. At least she was. All these years, your imagined her to be on a dance team or something. "I pegged you as a dancer."

It's a slip and you immediately know it. You're almost horrified at yourself but then you see it. A small twitch. At the very corner of her lips and you know. You know she remembers you. She must. She's careful though because within a millisecond, it's gone, and it was effortless. Her expression for the most part, unfazed. She's good, but you caught it. You're smug, and you don't even try to hide it. You've successfully read her in that moment, and you're proudly wearing your small victory on your face. She can see it in your eyes, you're sure of it.

"I'm captain of both the cheer team and the dance team at my school." Her eyes narrow as she leans back in her chair and crosses one leg over the other, challenging you. At the movement, your eyes follow down her body and wow, her legs. The pull hits you like a truck but this time it's different, good different. She's already smirking when you find her eyes again, like she knows what she's doing to you. "Are you your team's errand girl?" Her head tilts just slightly enough for it to look like feigned innocence.

You blink, completely caught off guard. Sue's mouth opens in shock and even the sight of that throws you further. You stumble on your words because you can't process the change in emotion quickly enough. The way she sat back, with her legs, you felt so… but then she taunted you, and no one taunts you. You aren't quick enough to quip back and Brittany's smiling widely now, her playful eyes in full effect.

It only makes you fluster more because you don't know whether to feel grateful that you get to see that smile again, her full smile, or upset that it was at the expense of an insult, directed to you.

Brittany's phone rings, and the sound of it pulls you back to earth. Reluctantly, her eyes break away and she answers the call. You know it's her mother from the way the she answers. You look at Sue, trying to communicate non-verbally, your eyes screaming, what the hell was that?

Sue just laughs and shrugs because really, that's never happened to you before, and she knows it. No one puts you in your place. No one except Brittany, apparently. Your Brittany.

"My mom is almost here," Brittany stands, and so does Sue. "I'm sorry again. Good luck at Nationals."

"Thank you, Britt. Good luck to you, too." Sue looks between the two of you and nods, "Ladies." She says before making her exit.

You're still standing there, dumbfounded, when Brittany looks at you expectantly. You're not entirely sure what she wants so you wait. For her cue, you guess. After you don't move, her features soften, and she chuckles, shaking her head.

"Still stuck?" She jokes, and she pushes your shoulder a little, making you take a step back. "I'm sorry I was mean to you." She offers, and you manage to smile at that, grateful for the release in tension. Her soft smile is back and now that she's standing, you get the chance to take in all of her.

She's taller than you now. Back then, you were both about the same height, but now she's got a few inches on you. Her hair is still as radiant as it was before but now with bangs slightly sideswiped across her forehead. It's also let down, falling past her shoulders in waves. You've always wondered what she would look like with her hair let down, and now you know. She's absolutely stunning.

After all this time, "Where have you been?"

Brittany blushes and ducks her head, scuffing her foot slightly against the floor, making you realize you said that out loud. It came out as a whisper, but she definitely heard you. You know she did from her reaction and the way she murmurs your name bashfully in response. Santana. You've never noticed till now that all those years ago, you've never heard her say your name and now that she has, you'll never forget what it sounds like.

Her cheeks, they're painted with the faintest of pinks. A special shade that makes you smile because you know that you did that. You secretly wonder if what she feels is similar to yours. If it feels like a pull for her as well? If it vibrates through every cell of her being like it does yours?

Brittany's phone buzzes in her hand, indicating to you that her mother has probably arrived, and she looks at you apologetically. You don't hide your frown and Brittany giggles at you. Her giggle, you commit it to memory too.

You shift out of her way when she starts walking but when she moves past you, you reach for her hand to stop her. She's surprised at first, but then turns to you. You don't let go. You don't actually know what you were trying to do because it happened so fast and you couldn't just… You needed to know.

"Am I going to see you again?" Your eyes are frantically searching hers, and she smiles, squeezes your hand. She lightly rubs her thumb across the back of your hand, soothing you.

"Definitely." She says softly, "Promise me, you'll find me at Nationals."

You had almost forgot she'd be at Nationals. Sure, she'll be your competition, but you don't care about all that now. Because you found her. Brittany. Your Brittany. You finally found her, and you'll do everything you can to find her again.

"I promise I'll find you." You tell her, and her smile widens. You let go of her hand and you watch her leave the auditorium before moving to sit in one of the seats. You still can't believe it. Your childhood crush, an old flame, reignited.

Four months later and you're cursing at yourself for not getting Brittany's phone number when you had the chance. It was right in front of you, in her other hand, and you failed to exchange digits.

So here you are at Nationals, and you have no idea how you're going to find her. There are literally hundreds of cheerleaders here, there's no way you'll find yours. But then you realize it. Sue. Sue would know what school Brittany attends at least. She had to have known what school she was trying to poach Brittany from. You can't believe you didn't realize it sooner.

"Coach!" You yell as you run past your team and towards the front, falling into step with the older blonde. "Coach, I wanted to ask you something." You tell her, and she eyes you from the side, but continues to walk at a fast pace. "Remember that girl you were trying to get transferred to McKinley?" You have to pause to breathe because now you're basically jogging alongside her.

You're also carrying an extra 25 pounds of weights in your backpack per Sue's orders, the whole team is. You're not sure why Sue has you guys conditioning at all times, like right now on the walk to the registration tables. You glance back at the rest of your lot and they look like their dying.

Sue turns around but continues her walking, now backwards, and raises the megaphone to her mouth, "Let's go ladies! You think winning this is going to be easy? Pick it up!" When she's done she turns back forward, and you continue.

"Her name is Brittany. I was wondering if you happen to remember what school she was from?" You breathe, and Sue suddenly stops, making you stumble slightly forward before you catch your balance. The others behind you fall to the ground and exhale in relief.

Sue lets you catch your breath as she opens her bag and rummages through her various items. She pulls out a letter that looks kind of worn, but still very much intact. "Took you long enough. All you had to do was ask." She says as she hands it to you and continues her brisk walk. You look at your team expectantly but when no movement is made, you yell at them to hurry it along.

When the last of your squad is up and running after Sue, you examine the note carefully. It's small and folded neatly, in a way that you know Sue hasn't made any attempt to open it. On the front, a little scribble of handwriting. Santana.

Your fingers graze over your own name and you already know who it's from. You wonder how long Sue has been carrying this around and why? You shake your head and smile at the piece of paper in your hands. It's funny because you can feel it, still. Not even in Brittany's presence, but it's there as you hold this letter, a letter that she wrote to you. The pull.

You open it carefully and your eyes dart across the page, taking in Brittany's handwritten letter.

Santana,

Do you believe in fate?

You asked me once to be your friend and I disappeared from you. I was never able to apologize to you for that. I also never got to thank you for trying to save me back then. To tell you the truth, because of you and what you did, it taught me to find the courage to start fighting for myself too. You'll be glad to know that I owe a lot of my feisty-ness to you.

Then, there you were in that auditorium, and I wasn't sure if you remembered. But you did, and you were so flustered I just couldn't help myself. I'm sorry for teasing you. I hope you weren't too mad at me afterwards.

Now, I find myself having to apologize for one more thing. I'm sorry but I won't be going to Nationals this year. I know I told you to look for me and here I go disappearing on you yet again, but this was never part the plan, I swear. There are some things that take more courage than I think I have.

I didn't want to make this long but I'm scared that this might be my last chance.

I need you to know that I feel it too. I felt it back then in my ballet flats and again in that auditorium. And I know you feel it too.

But you see, I also believe in fate. And the universe. And everything working out exactly how it's meant to be. And if this isn't meant to be, then at least with this letter, we'll both know that however fleeting this was, it was mutual.

I don't want you to look for me. I don't want you to wait for me. If it's meant to be, let it happen how it's supposed to happen.

Yours, Brittany

#brittana #brittana fanfiction #brittana fanfic #glee #glee fanfiction #wlw #brittany s pierce #santana lopez #excuse me i may be slightly drunk but I think you all deserve some teenage brittana #YFHTYFHA

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echoes-of-the-clockwork · 6 years

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Falcon of Detroit (DBH Connor Fanfiction) Chapter Three

~Phoebe's POV~

"It's past one in the morning. Go home, Phee," Hank sighed, urging me to rest from the case and wait until I'm refueled.

"I can't! There's too much goin' on in my brain right now that it'll be difficult to sleep! I must find out why this 'Amadeus' is after me and where that rogue who was targeting Harvey went." I tapped viciously on my keyboard, looking up anything that would provide a single clue to either the case or Amadeus.

"Phoebe, I must side with the Lieutenant. You're suffering from high levels of anxiety and exhaustion," Connor stated.

"I'll go get a cup of coffee. That'll help me," I said, getting up and heading to the break room. I nearly spilt my coffee as I turned and saw Connor had followed me in complete silence. "Stop doing that!"

"Phoebe, you must rest."

"No. Since when do androids care so much about humans?" I ask, taking a sip of coffee.

"You are my partner. It is natural for one, whether human or android, to worry about someone's well-being."

I heave a deep sigh and grip the cup gently between both hands. "If I go home and rest, will you stop worrying?"

Connor nods. "Also, the Lieutenant would benefit from your rest, as well."

"Maybe he should go home, too. He's been here since eleven this morning."

"He just left."

"Wait, really?" I peer past the android to see Hank was, indeed, gone. "Well, then..." Coffee in-hand, I head back to my desk and gather my things. Before I was able to grab my keys, Connor snatched them off my desk. "Connor, what're you doing?"

"I will drive you home," he simply replies.

"I'll be fine. My place isn't that far."

"It takes less than five seconds for someone to get into an accident, Phoebe."

"It's one in the morning. There'll hardly be anyone on the road."

"You can still get into an accident with your surroundings."

I sigh, giving in to his persistency. "Fine. You can drive me home." The two of us left the station and I gave Connor my address. He drove me safely to my house and I thanked the android as he helped me carry my things inside.

Connor sat my stuff down on the sofa while I headed into the kitchen and tossed a handful of files on the counter.

"Thanks for the help, Connor. Guess I'll see you in about..." I glance down at the clock on my phone. "Six hours."

"Get some rest, Phoebe," Connor said before he left. I locked the door, dragged myself to the bedroom, and flopped down on the soft sheets with a huff.

When my head hit the soft pillows, all the exhaustion hit me at once. I fell asleep without any trouble.

-Seven A.M.-

When I woke up, I immediately took a shower and ate breakfast. I checked my phone to see I had a missed call from Hank. Luckily, the older man had left a message. I listened to the short message and learned Connor was able to get a confession out of the deviant we caught the previous night. As I had guessed, the android was triggered by his owner's abuse, resulting in an overwhelming wave of emotions. Not knowing how to deal with the new sensation, the deviant killed his abusive owner.

"Too bad we're not keeping score at who guesses everything right. I'd be kicking everyone's asses," I laugh. After eating breakfast, I changed and saw it was fifteen minutes 'til eight. Grabbing my bag, car keys, and files, I leave and head to the station.

-Detroit Police Department-

I dropped everything on my desk and used the ponytail holder on my wrist to tie my long, crimson locks into a ponytail. I saw Hank wasn't at his desk and there were no signs of him being here. I remember the message he left on my phone and connected the puzzle pieces. "Connor must've called him and then Hank contacted me. Drunkard must still be at home."

I sat down and read through the files while sipping at a cup of coffee. My thoughts were interrupted when Harvey came over and slammed a dog collar on my desk. "That damn rogue killed my dog last night!"

"I understand you're angry, but—"

"I'm furious! Get off your ass and find that fucking android! If there wasn't a police officer with me, I would've been killed!"

"First of all, we don't have a lead to where this rogue currently is hiding. We can't go knocking on doors asking for a rogue android."

"Yes, you can! You have solid evidence!"

"Ten dead bodies and one connection isn't solid evidence! We don't even know what model this rogue is! We can't just go knocking on people's doors and telling them there's a rogue who's murdered ten men! The entire city would be chaotic at the news! Why the hell do you think we haven't informed the media of this case?!"

Harvey slammed his fist on my desk. "If you won't, I will!"

"And if you do, I will have you arrested for leaking private information. Now, it's up to you whether you spend your time in jail or at home. Your choice, Mr. Benjamin." The man clicked his tongue in annoyance and left the station. I sigh, pressing my hands to the sides of my head. "This is gonna be another long day..."

As I wanted to scream out for all to hear, I saw Connor walking over and sealed my lips. "Good morning, Phoebe," the android greets.

"Good morning, Connor. What brings you to my desk this early?"

"Another homicide was reported ten minutes ago. I believe it requires your expertise."

"You mean 'our' expertise." I grab my keys and cup of coffee. "Where to, mon ami?"

Connor flashed a small smile when he was able to understand my minor French. "One-zero-three Hazel Grove Boulevard."

"I know where that it. To the batmobile!" I pointed towards the entrance. Seeing as Connor didn't know Batman, either, I couldn't believe it. "Man, CyberLife definitely sucks at their job! Can't even bless their creations with the almighty Bruce Wayne. Such a shame!"

"You will have to introduce me to these 'references' you mention."

"Oh, sweetheart, don't say that or you'll be stuck at my house watching superhero movies for days on-end whether you're there willingly or tied to my sofa. Now, let's go check this homicide out. Maybe it'll have a link to this 'Amadeus' or even the ten murdered men."

-103 Hazel Grove Boulevard-

A plethora of cops were already on the scene when Connor and I arrived. A familiar face greeted us as we entered the beautiful house. "Glad to see you again so soon, Detective Falcon," Officer Shultz greets.

"Officer Shultz, I wasn't expecting to see you again so soon, either. If you're here, that must mean..."

"Yeah. The victim's face was burned off along with his fingerprints. Unlike the previous bodies, Lenny Hopkins didn't get a mouthful of hydrochloric acid."

"It would be futile to erase his identity when the rogue killed him in his own house. We type the address in our database and we'll see who owns the house. Where's the body?"

"Face-down in the pool. Follow me."

Connor walked beside me as we headed to the pool. The cool breeze greeted us when we stepped out the sliding glass door and onto the pool deck. "Oh, geez..." I mumble, watching coroners pull the body from the water. When I saw his tattered clothes, I raised a brow. "Connor, could you scan the body?”

"Right away, Phoebe." The android did as I asked.

I glanced at Connor, his chocolate gaze meeting my sapphire one. "It's not Mr. Hopkins, is it?"

"Correct. This man is Jamie Starling. He lost his job a year ago and has no spending records since June."

"That was five months ago. He must've lost his home and filed for bankruptcy after he could no longer pay for his house," I sighed.

Officer Shultz clutched his tablet tightly. "Then, where is Mr. Hopkins?"

"May I borrow your tablet, Officer Shultz?" I question.

He hands the device over. "Go right ahead, Detective."

Typing in Lenny's name and address, I pulled up a few pages of information. I crossed his history with Harvey's and saw the two were close friends. "Well, shit..."

"What did you find, Phoebe?" Connor asked.

"Our missing owner is a close friend of Mr. Benjamin," I reply with a huff. "And I think I know why the rogue took him."

"To lure out Mr. Benjamin," Connor said.

"Exactly. Now, if I were a rogue android, where would I hide a hostage and how would I contact Mr. Benjamin?" I pace back and forth, a finger resting on my chin as my brain kicked into overdrive. A random thought popped into my head, but it seemed quite outlandish. I decide to share the theory with Connor anyways. "What if the rogue is hiding in one of victims' houses?"

"It's quite a theory, one that would be viable enough to search each house of the rogue's victims," Connor replies.

"Officer Shultz, can you gather small groups of officers and send them to each of the houses? I know there's ten of them, but it's easier than checking each one individually," I glance towards the man.

"Right away, Detective Falcon." He ran off and gathered his team.

I placed a shaky hand against my forehead. Connor saw the jittery limb and spoke up. "Are you alright, Phoebe?"

"Yeah... Yeah, I'm fine. I just hope we'll be able to save Mr. Hopkins and Mr. Benjamin before this rogue pulls the trigger on both of them."

Then, my phone rang out of the blue and saw it was Hank. "Hey, Hank. Whatcha need?"

"Why the fuck didn't you take the day off?"

"Was going to, but I decided against it. We need to find this rogue."

"'We'? You're with that damn tin can, aren't you?"

I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Don't call him a 'tin can', Hank. Drop the hate and let us do our job. I'll talk to you later."

"Phee, hold—!"

I hung up and slid my phone back in my pocket. Connor peered at my face, knowing exactly who had called since I knew Hank was yelling on the other end. I patted him on the arm with a smile. "Don't worry. Just a small argument that'll clear up with a few glasses of tequila."

"It seems Lieutenant Anderson is a heavier drinker than I had thought," the android commented.

"I'll but him a single shot of tequila, but the rest will be shots of water. That old geezer needs to stop drinking so much. A couple glasses of scotch are alright here and there, but not every damn night. Man's murdering his liver. He also... never mind."

"Phoebe?"

"Forget that last part. That's a personal story only he can tell you. Anyways, let's go find this rogue! I'll feel much better once this case is closed."

Officer Shultz divided his team and sent them to nine out of the ten addresses. He assigned me and Connor to the final address. As we got into my car, I smiled at Connor. "Y'know, I never thought I would've ever said this in my entire life, but you don't know how happy I am to have a partner who can identify anybody by licking blood off his fingers. That... sounds even stranger when I say it out loud."

Connor smiled at my words. "I'm unfamiliar with human emotions, but I am glad to be of help, Phoebe."

“Well, I'll say this now since Hank refuses to see past your appearance: I don't care that you're an android. All I see is someone who's helped me tremendously in the short amount of time I've known him." Connor seemed to be at a lost for words, so I continued. "I'm glad to have you as my partner, Connor."

#detroit become human #connor x oc #dbh #dbh spoilers #hank anderson #connor rk800

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booksncoffee · 6 years

Text

under my skin - seven

seven || pull me backwards

“So, we’re cool, yeah?”

“Of course,” she nods. “I used to have a crush on you and you used to be all consumed by your passionate love for me.”

“Pretty sure it’s the other way around, Cooper,” Niall counters, to which she shakes her head, denying that statement.

read below || story page

On a Sunday morning, Brooklyn wakes up feeling restless and agitated. She knows straightaway that her plan to stay in bed until it’s late in the afternoon is out of the window so after she’s finished scrolling aimlessly through her Instagram, she climbs out of her bed.

After making her bed – Brooklyn can never leave her bed unmade no matter how lazy she gets – she brushes her teeth, washes her face and puts on her running attire. She hasn't gone for a run in a while and she hopes to God her stamina won’t fail her this morning.

She’s in the middle of tying her shoelaces when Beck stumbles out of his room, rubbing his eyes with the pad of his hand. “Bee?”

“Hey.”

“You’re up early,” he remarks.

“I’m going out for a run,” she tells him as she gets up and pulls her hair into a ponytail. Beck looks at her like he’s trying to figure out if she’s lost her mind. Who’d want to spend a Sunday morning running around a park? His twin sister, apparently.

“Well, take care,” he comments before disappearing into the kitchen. Brooklyn wants to ask what’s he doing up so early, but when she hears the sound of a mug breaking – that’d be the third one he breaks in the past month – she picks up her iPod, one that she’s had for years, along with its earphones and heads out without saying anything else. She needs to get rid of the tenseness before it takes over her.

Brooklyn goes through her music playlist and stops at ‘one for the run’. She made that playlist a few months ago when she decided that she needed more upbeat songs in her music library. She clicks play and begins her warmup exercises. Once she’s sure that she’s not going to pull her muscles or anything, she starts running. Slowly at first, but her speed increases to the beat of the songs she’s listening to.

The loud and heavy music flows through her body like a ripple of energy as she focuses on her next step and nothing else. Her breath has moved from controlled inhaling and exhaling to uncontrolled gasps and spurts. When every single ounce of her body is poured into propelling her forward, leaving her committedly focused on her steps, she can feel everything that has been bothering her melts away. Tension drains out of her body and she no longer feels like the universe is against her.

That is, until someone tugs at her earphone, pulling the left one out of her ear. Shocked, Brooklyn lets her reflex takes over as she pulls her arm back and punch the person who scares the life out of her. She’s read enough news to know that people these days aren’t afraid to harm you even in the public. Luckily she learned how to punch someone from Oliver and her trainer back when she used to go to the gym regularly.

A victorious smile touched Brooklyn’s lips when she hears that bloody idiot winces in pain. It disappears immediately, however, when she turns around and sees that the person who’s just plucked her earphone out of her ear is-

“Niall?!” She shrieks as she walks up to him. He’s covering his eye with the palm of his hand and whilst Brooklyn feels bad for him, she can’t stop herself from laughing.

“What?” He frowns at her.

“You sort of deserved that,” she tells him. He shrugs. “What were you thinking?”

“I wasn't thinking, obviously,” he mutters as he makes his way to the nearest bench. Brooklyn follows him and once he’s seated, she pries his hand away from his face and tries to take a look at his eyes. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”

Brooklyn squints her eyes a little and lets out a sigh. “You’re gonna have a black eye for a few days, that’s for sure.”

He groans. “Tell me I look cool.”

“Too soon to tell,” she replies as she inspects his eye once more. Taking a few steps back, she says, “As for now, you still look lame.”

He gives Brooklyn a displeased look, one that earns him another laughter from her.

She offers him her hand and he stares at it, confused. “C’mon, let’s get some ice on your eye.”

“Might have to carry me, Cooper,” he replies, lips twitching a little when she shoots him a ‘are you kidding me?’ look. “Can’t see.”

Brooklyn scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Don’t be an ass.”

“Jesus, you really do hate me, don’t you?”

“Been trying to tell you that for years.”

“Ouch,” he places a hand on his chest, “now you hurt my eye and my heart.”

“Come off of it,” she swats his arm before she begins walking. When she doesn't hear Niall’s footsteps following her, she glances through her shoulder. “What’re you waiting for? Let’s go.”

“Eager to take me to your home, aren’t you?” He teases her as he catches up to her. She shoots him a glare and he immediately mimics an action of locking his lips.

The walk to Brooklyn’s home is filled with… silence. Brooklyn has never felt this awkward as they walk side by side. Well, except for when she’s trying her hardest to convince herself that she didn't have a crush on Niall back then. Once she got over her crush, things are hardly awkward for them.

“What-“

“I’m-“

Brooklyn lets out a small laugh whilst Niall chuckles to himself when they both speak at the same time.

“You go first,” Niall says to her.

“What’re you doing at the park?” Brooklyn asks.

“I went for a walk,” he answers. “I was about to head home when I saw you.”

“And you thought it’s a good idea to pull at my earphone while I was running?” Brooklyn arches an eyebrow at him and he nods sheepishly. “You’re lucky I didn't kick you or summat.”

He laughs, the sound putting a smile on Brooklyn’s face.

“So, what were you gonna say?” She quizzes, curious.

He looks at her and takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he says. For some reasons, she feels like that’s not it. “And I, uh, was wondering if we’re okay.”

“Why wouldn't we be?” Brooklyn asks, brows furrowing in confusion. When Niall shoots her a pointed look, an ‘oh’ leaves her mouth. Cheeks catching fire, she tries to come up with something to say. A part of her thinks that this whole crush thing will be something that they will never talk about. Something that they will pretend never happened. Niall has a different plan. “I-It’s all in the past, right?”

After his crush for her was revealed, everyone was quiet. Niall’s cheeks and neck turned red and he struggled with words whilst Brooklyn refused to look at anyone even though she could feel her siblings’ eyes on her, all of them wanting to gauge her reaction.

To say that the next twenty minutes of the dinner was awkward would be an understatement. Everyone ate in silence except for Louis, who for some reasons didn't feel the palpable tension around the table. Every now and then he would point out how delicious the sushi was and how shocked he was that he didn't discover this place sooner.

Niall left before everyone else did with an excuse that he had some work to do. Louis did five minutes later because he had an early shoot the next morning and when Brooklyn was left alone with her siblings, questions after questions flew out of their mouths.

Apparently Beck wasn't surprised that Niall used to have a crush on her. Nadine, on the other hand, thought that it’s a loss her sister didn't know about this sooner because she could totally picture the two of them together. Oliver refused to share his view on this whole thing, simply shrugging it off by saying that he’s happy if Brooklyn’s happy.

Ever since then, no one mentions what were spoken during the dinner.

“Mhmm, it’s in the past,” he answers after what feels like an eternity of silence. He looks at her, then, scanning her face in a way that makes her feel self-conscious all of a sudden. “So, we’re cool, yeah?”

“Of course,” she nods. “I used to have a crush on you and you used to be all consumed by your passionate love for me.”

“Pretty sure it’s the other way around, Cooper,” Niall counters, to which she shakes her head, denying that statement.

As the two of them burst out laughing, things are no longer awkward between them. The heaviness she felt on her chest since that dinner is gone, replaced by relief. Maybe it’s not such a bad thing to talk about this. Now that it’s out in the open, they could joke around about it without wanting the ground to swallow them alive.

When they arrive at Brooklyn’s house, she tells him to take a seat on her couch whilst she gets some ice from her fridge. It turns out that there’s no ice but what she does have is a pack of peas, which she thinks is good enough. When she returns to the living room, she hands it to him and occupies the empty seat next to him.

Pressing the pack of peas against his eye, he lets out a hiss. “I’m really sorry for punching you in the face,” Brooklyn apologises. Seeing him in pain makes her feel so guilty.

“S’fine,” he waves her off with his hand. “I deserved it.”

Brooklyn laughs. “You did, but I still feel bad.”

“Don’t be,” he tells her as he pats her knee.

Beck decides to come out of his room at that exact moment and when Brooklyn’s eyes meet his, she’s pretty sure she sees the glint in his eyes. He almost tiptoes back to his room to give them some privacy, but she calls him out.

“Beck, hey! You’re up.”

“I-I’m going back to sleep,” he replies but stops when he sees Niall’s eye that is beginning to swell. He quickly makes his way to them. “Holy shit, mate. What the hell happened? Did you kick someone’s arse?”

“I wish,” he chuckles as he shakes his head. “Bee punched me.”

Beck glares at his twin sister. “Why’d you do that?”

“I-“

“S’not her fault,” Niall interjects. “I caught her at a bad time.”

Beck lets out a low whistle. “Never mess with Bee.”

Niall agrees with a nod.

“Just so you know, I was the one who taught her how to throw a punch.”

Brooklyn punches Beck in the arm, causing him to wince. “You never taught me that!” She exclaims. “Ollie did.”

“I’d like to think that those wrestling matches we had when we were kids taught you how to defend yourself,” Beck says, still attempting to get some credits from his sister.

What he does get is an eye roll. Brooklyn gets up from the couch and begins to make her way to the kitchen. “I’m making pancakes, anyone wants one?”

“Two please!” Beck orders. “No, make it three. I’m starving!”

“Niall?”

Niall glances through his shoulder. “Oh, I can’t-“

“Nonsense!” Beck interrupts before he can finish his sentence. “You deserve at least two of Bee’s pancakes after what she did to your eye.”

Niall darts his gaze from Beck to Brooklyn before finally deciding to stay for breakfast.

The lift door is about to close when Niall squeezes himself in. Instinctively, Brooklyn looks at her wristwatch.

“You’re not late,” Niall remarks.

“You’re… Early?” Brooklyn is truly shocked. The last time he was early, it was because his clock was set an hour earlier and he thought everyone was pranking him when he arrived to an empty office. She turns to him and pokes his cheek. “Is this really Niall Horan?”

Niall presses his lips together, pretending not to be annoyed. The look on his face makes Brooklyn laughs so she stops.

“What makes you come to work early?” She asks.

He shrugs. “Woke up early, couldn't go back to sleep so I got ready for work and here I am.”

“Huh,” is the only reply Brooklyn can think of. The lift door opens and she steps out, followed by Niall. The two of them make their way to their desks and after putting down their stuff, they head to the break room.

As Brooklyn pours a cup of freshly brewed coffee into her cup, Niall looks around the place. “So this is what it feels like to come early.”

Bringing the cup of to her lips, she takes a sip of the much needed caffeine before replying, “Good, innit?”

“Kinda like it better when everyone watches me walk to my desk,” he says matter-of-factly.

Brooklyn rolls her eyes and scoffs. “You’re a narcissist, do you know that?” Niall simply grins and shrugs. “How’s your eye?”

Niall has decided to wear his glasses today, one that he usually puts on when he’s reading something or working on his articles, and it does a pretty good job at concealing his black eye. If you don’t stare at his face for longer than three seconds, that is.

“Better,” he answers coolly. Brooklyn makes a face at him, not quite believing his words. Physically, it doesn't look better. “Okay, fine. It still hurts. A little. Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Of course, you’re the strongest,” Brooklyn replies sarcastically, which makes him laugh.

Pulling out a chair, Niall sits with her as she drinks her coffee in silence. He takes out his mobile phone and checks his email. Brooklyn decides to do the same.

“Good morning, my favourite people!” Harry announces as he walks into the break room. He’s about to take a seat next to Niall when he suddenly gasps. “No. What happened to your eye?”

“Cooper punched me,” Niall tells him.

Harry’s eyes widen as he looks at Brooklyn, who immediately holds both hands up. “Before you accuse me of anything, you should know that he deserved it.”

“Niall is the nicest person I know, no way he deserves a punch in his beautiful face.”

“Thank you, Harry, but Cooper’s right.” Niall admits before proceeding to telling the whole story to Harry who listens intently.

“But… But you’ll have that thing tonight.”

Niall’s brows furrow in confusion. “What thing?”

Harry drops his voice to a whisper and Brooklyn pretends not to be interested as she sips on her coffee. Truth is, the fact that Harry doesn't want her to hear what he has to say piques her interest. Instead of straightaway asking them what they’re talking about, she chooses to scans Niall’s face. Right now, he doesn't look too happy.

“Shit.” He groans. “That’s tonight?”

Harry nods. “So, should I cancel it?”

“No, no.” Niall shakes his head. “Don’t… Don’t cancel it.”

“Okay, what’re you two on about?” Brooklyn quizzes as she puts down her cup.

Harry purses his lips together, his eyes darting from Brooklyn to Niall. She’s pretty sure that's his silent plea for his friend to answer the question instead.

Niall lets out a scoff as he straightens up and says, “Harry set me up for a date tonight.”

“That’s good!” Brooklyn chirps. She’s a bit taken aback by that piece of information, but it takes her less than five seconds to wrap her head around it.

Niall looks at Harry as though to prove a point and says, “See, I told you.”

Brooklyn’s brows are pinched together as she finds herself once again confused. Maybe she needs to hang out with them less often; it’ll do her head good. “You told him what?”

“Harry thought it’d be weird to talk about this in front of you given that… Well, you used to be in love with me.”

An innocent smile touches Harry’s lips when Brooklyn looks at him. Under the table, she kicks Niall’s foot. “It’s not weird at all,” she clarifies, her eyes fixed on Harry as her lips stretch into a reassuring smile. They land on Niall a few seconds later and she comments, “Also, I never said the word love.”

“Pretty sure you did,” Niall argues.

“Nope,” Brooklyn shakes her head in disagreement.

“So you two are cool with each other dating other people?” Harry asks, needing a confirmation. The way they’re looking at each other right now makes it seems like it’s necessary for him to ask that question. After all, the last thing he wants to do is stand in the way of them getting together.

“Of course!” Niall replies.

At the same time, Brooklyn says, “Yeah, totally!”

Instead of immediately believing their words, Harry takes a few more seconds to scan their faces. He doesn't want to admit it, but he wishes they’d take back what they just said. But he’s promised to Niall that he’d stop trying to make him and Brooklyn happen so he decides to let it go.

“Okay then,” he replies with a shrug. “You two could’ve been something great.”

Niall glares at him. Brooklyn refuses to meet his eyes.

“Just saying,” he adds as he taps the table with his fingers and gets up from his chair.

“It wouldn't have worked out,” Brooklyn finds herself saying. Beside her, Niall agrees with a nod. “It’d be Ray and Eva 2.0 – no one wants that.”

“Yeah, no one wants that,” Niall repeats Brooklyn’s words as he gets up from his seat as well. Pushing the chair back to the table, he asks, “You coming?”

“Go ahead. I’ve to finish my coffee.” It’ll only take her one sip to finish it, but she needs some time alone before she gets back to her desk and starts her work.

As soon as Niall’s out of the break room, Brooklyn checks on her phone. She realises that Louis hasn't replied to her ‘good night’ and ‘good morning’ texts, which is weird because so far, he’s never failed to reply to any of it even though it might take him hours before he has the chance to check on his phone.

Now that she’s thought about it, she hasn't talked much to Louis since that dinner and she hasn't seen much of him either. He keeps telling her that he’s busy with photo shoots and being a person who usually puts her work first, she gets it. But something in her gut tells her that the lack of communication between them these past few days has something to do with what were spoken during the dinner.

Maybe the fact that she used to like Niall bothers him even though he doesn't show it. She’s learned a while ago that men are pretty good at hiding their feelings – she wrote something about that last year and it was a hit, not that she’s bragging or anything – and at times, it can get really irritating. Men are confusing, probably more confusing than women – a fact that nearly all men can’t accept.

Right now, Louis confuses her. Brooklyn wouldn't consider herself a clingy person. She understands it if someone is unable to reply to her text messages immediately or answer her calls, but seeing that she and Louis are a couple, she expects more from him. Which she’s beginning to think is a mistake – expecting more from someone.

But because she doesn't want her assumptions to cloud her mind, she composes a text message to be sent to Louis: dinner tonight?

It’s a simple text, but the way he replies it might give her an answer. But instead of waiting around for the reply to come in, Brooklyn washes the cup and returns to her desk. It isn’t until she’s turned on her computer that she finally checks her phone.

Can’t.

She can feel her heart drop to the pit of her stomach. That text confirms Brooklyn’s suspicion: her and Louis aren’t okay.

Niall raises an eyebrow at her as though to ask if she’s okay, which she responds with a small smile. She’s glad Niall doesn't ask more questions. It’s like he knows she’d rather not talk.

Okay. Cool. Was just wondering.

Brooklyn knows that’s not the best reply she can come up with, but she hits send anyway. She puts her mobile phone away after that, intent on not checking it at all for the rest of the day. She takes a deep breath and counts to three before she starts her work.

#1dff #ums #hiiiiii its heeeere #i hope you'll like it!!!!#now that this is posted i should probs study or do my assignment #anyway pls let me know what you think!!#:)

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jae-bummer · 7 years

Text

My Idol 2: Part One

My Idol From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

My Idol is a South Korean competitive reality dating game show. It currently airs on Wednesday nights on Jae-bummer’s blog. First broadcast in 2016, the show offers the opportunity for a lucky fan to go on seven blind dates with seven idols. The idol plans the date with the show throwing in specific missions to complete during the day. At the end of the initial dates, the show opens up an audience vote to decide what three idols will move on to the second date.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

The shadowed confines of the My Idol SUV were a stark contrast to the brightness radiating from your palms. You clutched desperately on to the small piece of aluminum that was your cell phone, the one real reminder that this experience was confirmed. You were THE individual that had been selected to date Korea’s hottest idols. You were THE individual who had the next year planned out for them.

And you were also THE individual who was scared shitless in the backseat of a KIA Sorento, trying not to vomit the contents of your breakfast.

In all of the universes you could have possibly imagined, you had never considered this to be a probable plot line for your destiny. When entering a competition, contest, or raffle, no one expects to win. Especially not in a competition of this size. The screening process for My Idol had been a rigorous one, but at most, you had supposed you could chalk it up as an interesting experience. It would be something to relive with your friends over drinks about the one time you “could have been” dating a celebrity.

But instead, you were dating a celebrity.

Seven of them.

At the same time.

You looked up from your phone screen, a blank expression flooding your heated face as the door beside you was yanked open.

“You ready?”

That was a loaded question.

You looked back down to your cell again, your eyes scanning across the email that had lived in the forefront of your attention since you had received it. Congratulations, you have been chosen for this season of Korea’s favorite dating show, My Idol!

“That wasn’t really a question, it was more of a prompt to get you out of the car,” a gruff voice sounded from beside you.

You furrowed your brows as you looked to one of the camera men. He had already begun sweating excessively, even though it was a mild, fall day and you had just left your location. His partner and fellow camera man had already hopped from the vehicle and stood before you expectantly.

“Today, kid.”

You heaved a sigh as you slid from the vehicle and placed your feet against the pavement. Shoving your phone into your back pocket, you took a deep breath, and nodded. You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to internalize the journey you were about to begin. You had watched last season and felt as if you were familiar with the ups and downs of the show. Granted, this season didn’t have a predesignated winner you wouldn’t find out about until the finale, so maybe your experience would be less exciting. You may even have less viewers. Less buzz around your name.

But you could very well fall in love.

You opened your eyes again and nodded, thinking to last season’s contestant. She was still sighted with Taehyung on occasion, still very much involved in a public relationship, and still seemingly very much in love.

At the end of this, that could be you.

Hope rose in your heart with the notion of romance flooding your thoughts. You could do this. You could do this.

“Are you going to stand here all day or-” one of the camera men began. You spun on your heel, leveling him with a stern look. A new sense of confidence pumped through your body.

“Okay, I get it, this isn’t your first season,” you spat. “But it’s mine, and I would appreciate a little bit of compassion.”

Both cameramen looked toward each other, lifting their brows. The one you were addressing let out a soft laugh before readjusting his recording equipment on his shoulder.

“Fresh out, sweetheart,” he grinned. “But feel free to check back later.”

You groaned to yourself as you turned back around, the feeling of confidence instantly deflating. So dealing with a sassy crew was a prerequisite to dating an idol?

You winced as you redirected your attention and looked toward the concrete building before you.

“What is this place?” you asked, slowly glancing over your shoulder at the camera men again.

“Looks to be an entertainment building,” they grunted. “Don’t see any signs.”

You swallowed. Hard.

“Do I...do I just go in?” you whispered nervously.

“We could stand on the sidewalk all day,” one of them muttered. “That makes for interesting tv.”

You shot him a dirty look before taking your first step forward. For a moment, you thought your legs would collapse as your knees began to buckle, but you quickly regained your poise. You could do this. It was just a man. It was just a date. You had gone on plenty of those before.

Okay, so maybe you were being liberal with your use of “plenty.”

You pulled open the heavy doors of the building and slid inside, instantly shivering as a burst of cold air hit your face. You looked across the lobby, making eye contact with the small receptionist peering from behind her nameplate. She smiled knowingly at you as she stood, motioning for you to follow as she moved toward the elevators.

You nodded, quickening your pace to keep up with her rapid steps.

“Uh, um, excuse me,” you stuttered out, just making it through the doors of the elevator before they shut. “Where are we?”

“One of Korea’s quickest growing entertainment companies,” she nodded happily, her smile not faltering for a moment.

“Well, I...I didn’t see any signage-” you began.

“This is for My Idol?” she asked, tilting her head as she cut you off.

“It is,” you confirmed.

“Aren’t you worried? You know...after watching last season?” she said quietly, averting her eyes so she wouldn’t have to look at you. “I was a big fan, well, I mean, I had to be with-”

The elevator beeped, signaling your arrival on the correct floor. You looked up helplessly to the stranger, silently begging her to provide some sort of solace or clue in this situation.

“Step out and turn left,” she nodded shortly. “Go down the hall and it’s the last room on the right.”

“Wait, but-” you gasped, feeling her touch your back lightly to guide you out of the elevator.

“I wish you luck,” she smiled. “...cause you’ll need it.”

Your jaw dropped slightly as the doors closed on her still smiling face.

Turning back around, you began to gnaw at your lower lip, uncertain if you were as prepared as you hyped yourself up to be. You took cautious steps in the direction she had pointed you, feeling as if with every movement, the end of the hallway moved further away from you. After what seemed like an eternity, your body finally managed to navigate you to the door in question.

Your eyes traced over the Hangul characters etched into the glass, trying to make sense of the sounds you had learned from your tutor so long ago.

You jumped as one of the camera men reached around you, rapping a heavy knock on the glass. You were too nervous to turn around and glare at him, so instead, your eyes remained glued to the letters.

“Come in,” a raspy voice called out.

Your shaking hands reached up for the door handle, giving it a gentle push inward. The door sprang free from the frame with little force, revealing a well lit room filled with instruments and a mixing board.

You sat in amazement for a moment, taking everything in. There were so many shelves and items housed in this room, you didn’t know where to look first. Your brain didn’t even begin to comprehend the most important fixture in the room until your eyes fell solely on him.

Min Yoongi of BTS.

The breath you had been exhaling sprung back into your throat, causing you to splutter, and shower anyone standing before you with saliva. As your coughing fit subsided, you looked up with a wince.

Yoongi’s lips were pursed as he stared at you, reaching up slowly to wipe your spit from his handsome face.

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly. “I didn’t mean to...I um...am I interrupting?”

“Of course you aren’t,” Yoongi sighed, tugging his headphones from his ears. “I was informed we’d be filming today.”

“Oh,” you struggled awkwardly. “I’m Y/N.”

“I’m Yoongi,” he nodded. “Are you familiar with my music?”

“I am,” you countered, trying to remain calm. “Um...are you familiar with...me?”

“You’re a musician?” he asked, lifting a brow.

“Well, no,” you chuckled awkwardly. “I just thought...I uh thought that maybe if I said kind of the same thing it would be funny?”

“Right,” Yoongi nodded. “Well, I’m going to finish up then.”

“Oh, oh, right,” you nodded enthusiastically. “Right, of course.”

“You can sit,” he instructed, pointing with his chin toward a lounge against the opposite wall.

“Right, yeah, sitting,” you confirmed, internally cursing yourself. You didn’t have to repeat everything he said, but you couldn’t help the anxiety pumping through you. It demanded that you make a complete fool of yourself.

You plopped onto the couch, placing your fingers beneath your thighs to keep you from poking at the items around you. Many of them looked expensive and with your luck and current nerves, you could send them flying.

You looked up hesitantly to Yoongi, trying not to make it seem obvious that you were staring. He was pale, but not nearly as pale as you expected. His skin was rich with glowing melanin, his face especially shining with little to no makeup. His hair was pushed to sit beneath a hat placed backwards on his head. He looked effortless and cool, boyfriend goals come to life.

As minutes ticked by in awkward silence, you watched your date click attentively at his computer screen. A hint of annoyance begin to wind through your stomach with each scroll of his mouse, only to be completely forgotten as another wave of nervousness swept through your senses. If he knew you were filming today, shouldn’t you have been meeting him at a romantic date location? Shouldn’t he have taken time out of his work schedule to woo you? Or frighteningly enough, was he giving you a glimpse of your possible future?

As Yoongi saved yet another file, you cleared your throat, and shifted in your spot. At this point, you should probably ask for a blanket and take out. The air had grown thick with the presence of too many people in a small space as the camera men hovered near you, filming the absence of an exchange between you and your date.

“Alright,” Yoongi croaked, finally breaking the silence. “Come on.”

“Come on?” you questioned.

Yoongi nodded shortly at you as he stood, stretching out his arms. You tried to keep your eyes locked on his face, but couldn’t help yourself as they lingered down to his stomach, momentarily exposed in his motions.

Wordlessly he exited the room as you scrambled to follow him. He made his way back to the elevator, not bothering to hold it open for you as you raced to join his side. You watched with wide eyes as the two cameramen struggled behind you, the doors shutting just as they reached the threshold. You turned to face Yoongi, various questions attempting to spring to your lips as you searched his face.

“They can catch the next one.”

You shuffled alongside your date, completely deflated with the outcome of your afternoon. You kept a tentative eye on the camera men behind you, hoping they could somehow rescue you from this situation.

Just because he was an idol, didn’t mean he would make for a good boyfriend.

You had so heavily deluded yourself with ideas of grandeur after watching the first season of My Idol, that you were under the impression that every date would be a fairy tale. You would constantly be swept off your feet by beautiful men again and again.

Not that Yoongi wasn’t beautiful. He definitely had that going for him.

The personality just needed a bit of work.

“So...um...” you tried, choosing your words carefully. You shoved your hands deep within your pockets, trying to counter the urge to fling them as you spoke. “What’s the plan?”

“No plan,” he sighed simply, still pushing forward.

“If there’s no plan...” you trailed. “Then where are we going?”

“MISSION!” one of the camera men grunted, just loud enough to cause you to jump. Yoongi eyed you, amusement coating his features.

“I forgot about these,” you whispered, taking the legendary, red envelope into your trembling fingers. You ran them over the thick, woven paper before Yoongi took it from your hands.

He nodded at you, flashing the first kind smile he had sent your way today.

Before he roughly ripped the envelope and tugged out the mission card beneath.

Your heart seemed to skip a beat for a moment with his small facial tick, only to plummet to your toes again.

“Seoul Snacks,” he read, his eyes scanning the card. “Travel to our My Idol Eatery and guess the price of at least one food item. Finish in five attempts and escape the penalty.”

You lifted your brows, searching for any kind of reaction on Yoongi’s face. He looked closely again at the paper, mouthing words silently as he read over the instructions again.

“So where is the My Idol eatery?” you questioned, moving closer to him in an attempt to read the mission.

“This way,” he said quickly, tucking the card beneath his arm. He trudged forward, leading the way across the street and down a few blocks.

You were completely at a loss. You could understand if his managers had selected him to appear on My Idol, but surely one of his other members could have been slightly more enthusiastic about joining the cast. You wracked your brain with every possible way in which you could have said something to offend him. He wouldn’t treat you this way simply if he were just not attracted to you, would he?

You had a difficult time keeping up with Yoongi’s steps as he traversed across Seoul, confident in the direction in which he was traveling, while pushing you into a panic. Not only did you not have any sort of trust or comfort built up with this stranger, but you also had absolutely no idea where you were going.

After around five minutes of walking, he finally came to a stop so abruptly, you nearly slammed into his back. Looking up, you noticed a small food truck decorated in a various array of My Idol banners and menu signs. Reading each line item was like a revisit of the more successful dates of seasons past. Your heart ached for that connection, but all you were left with was a sour partner.

“So we have to guess one of the prices accurately,” Yoongi stated, squinting at the menu signs. “You wanna try?”

You lifted your brows, surprised that he wouldn’t try the challenge entirely by himself.

“Well, what’s the strategy?” you hummed, tapping your chin. Maybe if you could loosen up, he could as well. “Go for the items we think are not so pricey?”

“Or the food we know the prices for,” he chuckled, crossing his arms.

“Oh yeah?” you asked, lifting your brows. “You say that like it’s so obvious.”

“It is,” he continued. “Why would we guess anything we didn’t know the price of?”

“How are we going to know the exact price of anything?” you argued. “It’s impossible.”

“Wanna bet?” he asked, sticking his tongue between his teeth. For a moment you were completely caught off guard by the action. His mouth was alarmingly attractive.

“You’re too unpredictable to bet against, Min Yoongi,” you hummed, shaking your head.

“I like it that way,” he chuckled, wiggling his eyebrows. You were surprised again by the small motion. It was like someone had flipped a switch inside of the surly man. “But really, what’s your guess?”

“I’ll try the potato tornado,” you nodded, stepping closer to the order window of the food truck. “Excuse me, is the potato tornado...3,000 won?”

“It is not,” the young woman inside smiled. “But please try again.”

“Weak,” Yoongi clucked, shaking his head. “When was the last time you spent that much on a potato tornado?”

“Fine, you’re so well-versed, why don’t you try?” you grumbled, crossing your arms.

“You don’t want to give it another go?” he questioned, seemingly enjoying watching you struggle. “Try one more and I’ll guess.”

“Fine,” you groaned. “Miss, the mandu plate...is that 5,000 won?”

You heard Yoongi scoff behind you as the woman smiled sadly. “No, it is not. But please try again.”

“Okay, I can’t watch anymore,” Yoongi teased, taking a few steps forward. You were enjoying this newfound side of the man you had just met and almost disregarded. “The soondae, for 6,000 won please?”

“Yes sir!” the young woman gasped, clapping her hands in excitement. “Mission complete!”

“That was great,” you grinned, tugging at his jacket sleeve. “You did so well! How did you know?”

“Well,” he sighed, tucking his hands into his pockets. “I’m always hungry. Right now included.”

With the few simple words, he turned, and began in the opposite direction.

And the personality switch inside of Yoongi had been flipped into the “Off” setting once again.

You watched in amazement as he crossed the street, not even bothering to look behind him to see if you had begun to follow.

And that was it.

You sprung forward, a new emotion washing over you. Frustration. You were on a date. You wanted to be considered. You wanted your hand held. You wanted to be smiled at and flirted with.

“Look Yoongi,” you spat, hot on his heels. He didn’t bother to turn around as you spoke, causing venom to further saturate your words. “I don’t know what you’re problem is but, hey! Hey, I’m talking to you!”

You felt the anger begin to come to a boil as he disappeared into a nearby cafe, not pausing long enough to hold the door for you. You felt as if you were seeing red as you tugged at the handle, focusing your eyes just in time to see Yoongi take a set of stairs in the distance.

“He won’t ever have to worry about being hungry again,” you croaked, nearly jogging across the small cafe. The camera men wheezed behind you, attempting to keep up with your emotion filled strides. “He’ll be lucky to ever swallow after I strangle him.”

“Yoongi!” you shouted, stomping up the stairs with enough effort that anyone in a block radius would probably be capable of hearing you. “Min Yoo-”

Your steps began to slow as you reached the top of the staircase and the top half of your body finally appeared into an open area. Your jaw instantly began to drop as you were met with a surprising sight.

You had emerged in what appeared to be a rooftop cafe, completely void of anyone except for Yoongi and yourself. He stood near a table decorated with candles, his arms crossed, with a goofy smile painting his thin lips.

“Yoo...Yoongi,” you stuttered, looking from the holiday lights strung across every surface to the view of the city below. “Was this...was this part of a plan? This whole time?”

Yoongi took a few steps forward, reaching out hesitantly to run his fingers across the front of your hand. He bit his lower lip before looking up at you, his face more shy and careful than you had ever recalled seeing it.

“I wanted to be memorable.”

To Be Continued...

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stickthelandinggabs · 7 years

Text

Such A Strange Numb

*Pain. I felt it instantly, but I knew it before I even hit the floor. Two inches. A lifetime of literal blood, sweat and tears was swallowed up by two inches of blue mat. I had known it too, from the moment my hands left the bar. Learning to gauge your reaction and position as you are not only upside down but also flipping through the air is an acquired skill, and one I had carefully honed over the last twenty-odd years. I wanted nothing more than to just crumble, and cry; to scream and wail but I couldn’t, not yet. Just another thirty seconds. I steadied myself, salty tears pricking at my eyes and nothing but the sound of my own blood rushing in my ears as I talked myself through the motions, my tongue clenched so tightly between my teeth I could taste blood. My own voice sounded alien to me through the haze of Steady. Steady. Arms up. Eyes open. The words ran through my mind two at a time because I couldn’t handle any more than that. Somewhere, past the haze of pain that deafened my ears, I could hear cheering, applause and Jeff’s familiar, excited voice. That was a good thing. Cause that meant I could fall. And I did, crumpling to the cushioned blue mat with a single scream. I sat, bolt upright in bed, sheets twisted around sweaty limbs and the sound of my own scream dying in my ears. Jesus fucking christ. If my subconscious was going to forever torture me, it could at least be creative while doing so. I’d had the same dream time and again, every few months for the last five years, almost always identical save for minor changes; the color of a leotard, my hair in a bun versus a pony tail; tape on my left foot instead of my right. If it was only a dream, I would have been able to handle it but it wasn’t. It was very much a memory, and not a good one. Flopping back against the soft mattress, I glanced over towards the clock, the bright red letters screaming in the relative darkness. 6:37. Too late to go back to sleep and too early to be awake, especially seeing as I didn’t have to work until nine today. So, be lazy and stay in bed or productive and get up. The struggle was real and eventually getting up won but only because my bladder was being an impertinent bitch. It was quiet and cold, the air pumped from above my head almost uncomfortable as my bare skin, still slick with sweat, prickled as I headed towards the kitchen, my vision still bleary with sleep. Whispering a quiet thank you to the genius that invented the keurig, I set the machine to brew, hopping up on the cool tiled counter with my mug in hand and glared at the machine as though the act would make it brew faster. It didn’t. Twenty minutes later, freshly showered and with a mug of turbo strength coffee in hand, I headed out the door for work, duffel bag slung over my shoulder. If someone had told me five years ago that I would be working as a personal trainer, I wouldn’t have second guessed them, that is kind of par for the course with an athletic training degree and my personal background. It was exactly as I had expected. The where, though… that was a bit of a surprise to me some days, even still. The Red Doors was never a place that I would have imagined I would end up, not for a second and yet… I did. Weather it was my degree that got me there or my past achievements, such as they were, I never questioned. When an offer like the one from Mr. Kingston came along, you didn’t say no. You just didn’t. The lifestyle was not one that I actively participated in but definitely not one that I judged, it was not my place and it would make me a fucking hypocrite besides. As much as I loved gymnastics, that constant pressure, the incessant judging, quite literally, for everything that I did, drove me absolutely insane and I swore that I would never subject anyone else to that if I could help it. I understood, on a basic level, what the allure of The Red Doors was, even if I had never experienced it first hand. Then again, I spent the better part of two decades training like a goddamn fool, breaking bones, pulling muscles and peeling sheets of skin from my hands. If it wasn’t bleeding, don’t worry about it… and sometimes if it was, don’t worry about it. Pain was a sign that you were working, moving, progressing, despite the absolute insanity of the sport. Pain was progress, it was forward momentum. I learned from a young age to embrace it, although I popped tylenol from an industrial sized bottle like candy. It was what was done. In my mind if it made you happy, that you should fucking do it, no matter what it is, no matter what anyone else may think. While I had always been logical about my career in gymnastics, my mother had not been the same. Her goal, and it was always hers, was to see me on a podium somewhere, bedecked in red, white and blue, a cadre of shiny medals hanging around my neck. Yeah, nope. I gave up on that goal by the time I was seven. It wasn’t feasible, and I was okay with that. Instead, I buckled down and busted my ass, finishing high school at fifteen and training almost exclusively for the next three years. If I could finagle a scholarship, be it full or partial, that was enough for me. It worked and somehow, by the grace of some unseen and nonexistent deity above, I pulled it off, getting a full athletic scholarship to LSU which was… not my mother’s dream. But it was mine. I had been incredibly lucky throughout my career to have never suffered a severe injury. Small ones; strains and sprains on every joint imaginable, blisters covering an entire palm and small broken bones were just a part of life, something you accepted and dealt with, maybe took a day or two to rest and then got back on the horse. Ore beam, as it were. It was the big ones, the shattered bones, and broken necks that always hung heavy over our heads. The career enders. They were inevitable to almost everyone. Gymnastics is a sport that has not only an inherent risk but an expiration date. There is always someone younger, tinier and better than you just waiting for something to happen. It wasn’t mean spirited, it was just how things worked. In a world where everyone is disposable, and the difference between winning and losing was sometimes less than a tenth of a percent, well… you learned to fight, as long and as hard as you could. Grit your teeth, slap on some ice and finish. Above all else, you had to stick that damn landing, that was what counted, it could make or break an entire career, and I had seen it do exactly that many times over. An ounce of doubt, a moment’s hesitation could end a career. That was all it took. Just a split second where you doubted yourself, a half a step too far, even less than an inch to one side or another could signal the end. In my case, I could see it coming, as soon as I released that bar, I could feel it in my gut. It was the end, but what a way to go out. The NCAA finals, last competitor of the meet on my favorite apparatus. The difference that day between first and second place was less than a tenth of a point. I had no choice but to stick the landing. And I did, perfectly, as my recurring dream never failed to remind me. But that landing also ruptured my achilles tendon, ending my career and my last meet on a less than high note. But we won and that was the last thing that went through my mind before I passed out. I could still feel an ache some days, although it was not as bad as it once had been. The scar that ran up the back of my leg was not pretty but it was a reminder of the frailty that we as human beings have and, at the same time, the resilience and strength of not only the human body but the spirit as well. I timed my short walk perfectly and drained the last sip of coffee in my mug just as a familiar set of red doors came into view, putting a smile on my face. It may not have been where I had dreamed I would end up, but I loved it and I know that was more than most could say. The familiar beep as I scanned my key card brought a certain sense of calm, of comfort and I tugged the door open, ready to begin another day. #TheRedDoors #SuchAStrangeNumb

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celestial-cutie · 7 years

Text

LTHC, Ch. 2, Pt. 1: The Market Place

The waters only lightly licked the boat as it drifted towards Medusa Terrace. Rozu circled around the boat looking at all interesting bits showing up at the horizon. The shrinking silhouette of Dry Salts, the idea of Tempest’s Rest to their left and something very tall ahead of them, possibly a mountain, if a very steep one.

“Oh, right!” Bow broke the silence and startled a few. “Kiven, when we got to Dry Salts, you were telling us about that, you know, that kid in Tempest’s Rest who said her mother had gone missing? You knew what happened to her, right?”

Kiven took a moment to remember. “Oh. Yes… No, I don’t know what happened, I was going to tell you to just drop it, don’t go looking for that person. Just forget about it.”

“Why?”

“Ugh, it’s hard telling you to not press the issue without intriguing you, huh? I’m saying, don’t try to find her, don’t learn anything about her, if someone tries to tell you about her, punch them in the head until they stop trying.”

“Okay, but what would happen if we did?”

Kiven chose her answer with care. “So, seven years ago, some things happened and the woman got erased. By that I don’t mean she ceased to exist, she still does like you and I. But when someone becomes erased, it messes with everyone’s memories of them. Memories go missing or get altered or fake ones emerge.”

“Well, that sounds bad.”

“It’s much worse if you only know very little about them or have never met them. Because you’ll start remembering that you did. And memories fabricated from scratch with no established relationship between you and them can get… bizarre. Her daughter only misremembered when exactly she went missing and how and maybe other small bits but it all has to make sense with the rest of her memories...”

“Well, you scared me off.” Bow admitted.

“Good.”

Trixie let the ensuing silence simmer for a bit. “How- Can we know how one becomes ‘erased’?”

“There’s nothing you can do to prevent it, if that’s what you’re asking. But it’s as likely as getting struck by lightning, so you shouldn’t worry about it.”

“Would we know if it happened to us?”

“I hope so.”

The next silence lasted.

The large structure in the distance grew more defined and eventually the small boat reached the harbor of Medusa Terrace. The city floor was covered in elaborate patterned stone tiles up to the pier. According to a map the place curved around the tall structure at the other end in a crescent moon shape.

“So, will you go sight-seeing then? Seeing the waterfalls and the colossus would probably blow your minds.”

Trixie checked the points of interest on the map. “I don’t know. Will you go reunite your dads then?”

“Yeah. I know you saved him and all but I feel this should stay a family matter, so don’t be mad if I don’t invite you.”

“Nah, it’s cool.”

“Well… good luck, kids.” Kiven waved goodbye and went on with her dad who told them farewell as well. The first word he spoke to them. A shy man.

Trixie looked back at the map “So, do you wanna go anywhere?”

Rozu shoved themself in front. “I could point out some cool places, if you like?”

“Oh, please do!”

“Alright, hm.” Rozu scanned the list on the map’s right side.

Rozu pointed to a shop in the top left of the map. “Mindy’s Magazine of Miths and Myths. I got a subscription, they write interesting stuff and they must have sources far in the upper seas. That could be interesting to you.”

Next one was a large building near the center. “The Stellar Institute is the royally-approved equivalent to the Celestial Academy. I’d rather not go there though. My loyalties lie with the academy.”

Finally they pointed out the center of the map. “The Market Place. Lots of wares from the upper seas here. You can get almost anything here, if you’re looking for something. We should get lunch there too.”

“Is everything on the market for free too?” Bow asked.

“Depends. Rarities aren’t given out to whoever asks for them. If you want, say, a bottle of Oathwater, you’d be expected to do something in return.”

Trixie wondered: “Miyuki could still gain another superpower right? Or does having a super tongue already fill that slot?”

“You can be an Akaname and have an Oath Power. All three of you could.”

“What do you say Miyuki? Your tongue is cool but it’s not really unique in this world.”

“Why would I ever say no to having more superpowers?”

“Haha, yes! I wonder what you’d get!”

“As I said, Oathwater would be a rarity though. I dunno if we could get one.”

“We’ll get some eventually!”

Miyuki noticed: “Wait, Rozu, do you have any superpowers?”

“Not really.”

“Then you should get one before I do.”

“No, it’s okay.”

“Really?” Trixie was perplexed.

“Yeah, don’t worry. I’m not into becoming a superhero. I’m happy just being a curious little person.”

“Alright then… Uh, how about we check the market first, then go the institute, then back to the market, have lunch and then check Mindy’s place?”

“I’d suggest the same.” Bow said.

It was decided. Together they made their way into the city.

~~~

The marketplace on the map was just a big open space but in reality, it was almost completely covered in a maze of stalls and stands. Carpets, ribbons and wires with lanterns hung over the pathways snaking between. It was not overly crowded, just some people and kids standing at stalls or walking by. They were still a sight to see. Some had wings, some were purple. Trixie wished she could just stop and chat with them all. Figure out what their kind is called, what they are known for and what they value. It took her a moment to remember:

“Rozu, you’re not human, right?”

“You’re opening a can of worms there but strictly speaking, no.”

“Sorry, was that insensitive?”

“No. It’s just a controversial topic. I’m a Tamali but I also look like a regular human with some added features, don’t I?”

“Tamali is what you’re called?”

“Yes. Whenever you see an otherwise human person with features of an animal, you’re most likely looking at a Tamali.”

“I can’t turn into a Tamali like Miyuki could turn into a…”

“Akaname. No, you can’t.”

“Shame.”

They came across a fork in the maze. A thin tent over the general area tinted to light yellow. In between the two splitting paths stood a table with several decorated bottles containing odd-colored fluids.

“What are you selling?” Trixie inquired.

The stand owner, a woman with searing reptile eyes and long dreaded hair stood tall on the snake tail she had for legs. Her scales looked gorgeous, a cool teal, almost erect like spines.

“Selling? No, no, these are gifts. And I only give gifts to friends. Will you be my friend?” she leaned in close so that her forked tongue almost touched Trixie’s nose as it flicked out.

“Sure.”

“The-” she was interrupted by a robotic voice. Two Apologies pushed their way to the stand, weapon in hand.

“Phesmux Falblicht, we have proof that you are associating with Rainbow.”

“Good for you, now if you would step aside for the paying customers.”

“Actually, we should go!” Trixie explained with a careful glance to Miyuki.

Phesmux slithered her tail in their way. “No, no, these poor boys have just forgotten that Medusa Terrace still stands under royal law. Which deems none of my activities illegal.”

One of the Apologies examined the kids trying to steal themselves away. “Hold it.”

He focused on Miyuki. Trixie jumped in his line of sight but he had already pointed his gun at her.

“Miyuki Nageki, you are accused of illegally smuggling Akaname blood to Tempest’s Rest. Due to repeated resistance I am authorized to use deadly force.”

Trixie could not easily fling this guy away with all the shops unless she did so straight up. Before she could do so though, Miyuki tackled her out of the way of a gunshot that hit the ground instead. All of the silent onlookers began to panic.

Phesmux used the moment to try and wrestle the shooter down but his partner grabbed hold of her as her body shot over the table. Trying to pull herself out of his grip, her snake belly slammed down on the table and split it in two, vials and flasks scattered over the floor, many broke.

Trixie focused on the attacker just in time to see the back of his gun being smacked into her forehead. The should could’ve put her out if she still had a skull made of bone but instead it just messed with her visuals as the fine mechanics of her eyes were shaken around. Miyuki attempted to ensnare him with her tongue but he grabbed it out of the air and pulled her closer to ram his knee into her head repeatedly. Her body fell limp as all fighting spirit left her and he pulled her up to twine her tongue around her neck to then pull it up and cut off her breathing. Her weak fingers tried to push some room between her tongue and throat but she could barely lift her arms. Trixie couldn’t throw him like that. Fortunately three copies of Bow jumped the Apology and he let go of their friend. As Bow pinned him down Trixie crawled over to lay her palm on his helmet and then focusing all her power to pushing down. His helmet flattened like tin foil and he stopped struggling.

“You-!” the other Apology growled, still emotionless.

Trixie looked up and saw Phesmux coil her long tail around the armor and attempt to crush it, even if it pushed the glass in her belly even deeper.

Before the armor could bend it started to buzz and Phesmux started to shiver and her muscles relaxed. The Apology grabbed his gun from the ground and started firing in a wild rage. These futuristic guns didn’t fire bullets but solid fire. Stalls collapsed as the fireballs cracked into them. Trixie tried to crush the soldier with her will but found she used up all her psychic energy when embedding the other guys skull in the ground. Bow’s clones just ducked under the fire. Miyuki coughed and tried to attack him with her tongue but she was too slow and he stomped down on it, stopping her dead in her tracks. About then it also occurred to him to aim down at them. Trixie had the faint hope that he just ran out of bullets but again, this thing did not fire bullets. He aimed at Trixie’s face. Then it blew up. His gun did. Most of his arms with it. Trixie had no idea why. The Apology looked just as confused until he was pistol-whipped on his knees and his helmet blown off.

The gun was flicked back into its holster and a radio was informed: “Threat subdued. Looks like one of them had already been taken out by civilians. One, two, three, six injured.”

“Sending in paramedics.” a voice cracked back.

“Got it.” the radio was stuffed back into the chest pocket.

“Hello, I’m Detective Kilmary, everybody here still conscious?”

Nobody answered. Someone else strolled onto the scene and handed Kilmary a glass of lemonade.

“Thanks, Kip. Looks like I won’t need it though. Help me check on the injured.”

She put the glass on one of the still intact tables and went to help everyone up and sit them against a wall until help arrived.

~~~

The paramedics arrived and tended to their wounds. The seven involved in the shooting were brought to Kilmary’s detective agency for questioning. Rozu had filmed the whole scene with their eyes and was brought interviewed while the rest were provided with bandages and painkillers in an improvised panic room within the agency. Once a more thorough check-up was done, it was decided that they had no serious physical injuries and would just need some time to heal.

“Are you okay, Bow?” Trixie asked.

She shrugged. “Considering the circumstances?”

“Okay…”

Trixie wished she could float right now, her muscles were all sore. She found Miyuki in a corner, crying.

“Do you want to be alone?”

Miyuki opened her arms for her and Trixie let her wrap them around her.

“This really sucks… but I’m glad I’m not alone… That’s the first time someone tried to kill me… It felt awful… I’m glad I didn’t die like that.”

“It’s the first time someone looked me in the eyes when they tried to kill me. I’m not sure if that’s worse.”

“I just want to go home now.”

Rozu entered the room with Kilmary. Kilmary seemed eternally calm. Like the personification of fog.

“I hope everyone’s over the shock by now. You did a good job, took those shits out without any casualties. Thanks for not making Kipper’s first case a bloody mess. Kid needs to ease into this…”

Kilmary looked into a lot of concerned faces and sat down.

“Look… I’m sorry. This was the worst attack we had yet. And I think it’ll keep getting worse. I think they’re starting to figure out they can get away with this. We pushed them into a corner and now we can’t push any further and they’re free to lash out. I downloaded your friend’s recording and will send another report to Rex Eden but I doubt they’ll do anything.”

Kilmary looked at Phesmux, coiled up by the door. “And Rainbow is just as helpless.”

“Are the royal families really just going to take this?” Rozu asked.

“What do you suggest they do? It’s not like we could attack them. Just defend ourselves.”

Rozu did not know.

“Alright… Do you live here or are you travelers?”

“Travelers.” Bow said.

“If you don’t have a place to stay, if you follow the road to your left, you’ll find a set of apartments. We keep one unoccupied for cases like this. I’d ring them up so you could go there and take it easy for a while. If this is your first fight, that can be hard on the psyche.”

“Thank you.”

“I guess I’ll go see what’s left of my shop.” Phesmux said. “But first: Sorry for getting you all roped up in this. If it weren’t for you, they might have killed me. So thank you.”

She went out the door and it took a while before the rest of her tail left the room as well.

“Will they keep attacking us?” Bow asked before they left as well.

“If you stay away from them, they won’t hunt you down… Maybe you should join a self-defense course.”

Bow rolled past Kilmary. “Thanks, detective.”

Miyuki had calmed down enough and licked the tears out of her eyes. Her, Trixie and Rozu followed Bow outside and they made their way to the hotel room.

By the time they arrived Kilmary had already called them and the receptionist showed them their apartment. It was small. If you opened the window you could hear the ocean. There was a bath and a little kitchen, a bedroom with four beds. They dumped their bags and took off their shoes and just laid down on them for a while. Trixie noticed a television and found the remote to turn it on with. In this openly magical world, it seemed odd for there to be a TV. What kind shows would they have here?

There were only three channels. News, series and movies and a kids’ channel, it seemed. Trixie was more interested in news at the moment. There was a studio with a big couch for celebrity guests, two moderators who were currently alone and a screen behind them providing pictures related to the current topic.

Bow rolled next to Trixie’s bed. “I don’t know if I read too many fantasy novels but a TV feels out of place in a world with elves in it.”

“There are no elves… I think.” Rozu said from their bed. “Besides, it’s not the most technologically advanced thing you’ve seen yet.”

“I suppose.”

“This morning the marketplace in Medusa Terrace has been attacked again by Apology terrorists. The fight could be resolved with only 8 people receiving minor injuries. The two attackers have been destroyed in the fight. No official statements have been made by the Royal Family or the local detective agency investigating the attack.”

After getting the facts out there the two moderators chatted about the topic. About the public dissatisfaction with the government’s inaction, about installing an Anti-Apology force, about this political group called Rainbow, chastising people for supporting them because they were the same kind of terrorists.

“Rozu, do you know about Rainbow? What kind of people are they?”

“People that are dissatisfied with the world and take action to change it.”

“Are they really evil?”

“They are against the government, so if course all royalty-controlled media is going to condemn them. They only want the best for everyone. Except for those that desire to hurt others. Seems reasonable to me.”

“Historically, siding with the government was rarely the right move.” Bow mentioned.

They faced the door as they heard it open. Phesmux slithered in with a bag emitting clanking sounds.

“Hey. Sorry, my shop got destroyed and I kinda used to live there…” Phesmux placed her bag on a table and the end of her tail pushed the door closed.

“We don’t have enough beds though.” Trixie said.

“Don’t worry, I don’t sleep in beds. I just curl up.”

“I bet that looks cute.”

“Uh… thanks… Sorry for getting you involved in the fight or something.” she put her hand on the bag, “These are all the potion that didn’t break. You can have them.”

“What will you do now?”

“Hm… seems a good time to do something new. Maybe go see the Upper Seas…”

“You could come with us!” Trixie offered.

“‘Preciate it, but I feel we don’t go the same direction.” Phesmux scanned the room for the bathroom door. “Anyway, I’ll go take a shower. You were looking for Oathwater, weren’t you? There should be at least one among the survivors.”

They waited until they heard the water flowing.

“I wonder how she fits in the shower cabin with that long tail.” Miyuki whispered.

Trixie approached Phesmux’ bag and pulled out the unlabeled bottles.

“Oathwater would look like regular water, right?”

She took the one bottle with transparent fluid. At a closer look, there was a faint rainbow swimming in it. She held it before Miyuki and Rozu.

“So which of you will take it.”

“Miyuki.” Rozu declared.

“Okay, but I’ll only have it if you explain why you don’t want it.”

“Do you need to know?”

“In order to feel well with this, yes.”

Rozu examined the three girls.

“It’s… very personal. It’s not that I wouldn’t like to, but it’d be a waste. I can’t develop a superpower.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t have a soul.”

“You- Uh…”

“How do you mean that?” Bow asked.

“Literally. I don’t have a soul like you do. I am thoroughly unmagical.”

“I… I mean, I don’t know a lot about magic, so I can’t dispute that but… magic did not exist where we are from either, so…”

“You may not be able to use magic, but that doesn’t mean there’s no magic in you. Your souls are magic, you need magic to be born, it’s how you-” Rozu stopped themself. “I’m just not born that way.”

Miyuki sat on the floor to meet their downward gaze. “Okay. As I said though, I’m good with just my tongue. I wouldn’t see it as a waste if you took it. Maybe it does work? Have you confirmed that it doesn’t yet?”

“Well… no. I… fine, okay. I’ll drink it. But you keep the other potions for yourselves then.”

“Deal.”

Rozu took the bottle, popped out the cork and drank its contents. The bottle vanished as soon as it was emptied.

“What? Was that you? Did you make it disappear?” Trixie wondered.

“I don’t think I did?” Rozu said with much confusion.

“No, sorry, that’s my power.” No one had noticed Phesmux behind them.

“Your power is making things disappear?” Trixie asked.

“No, my power is bottling things. As soon as the bottle is emptied or broken. It disappears. Here, look.”

She put a hand on her chest. All the water still on her skin and scales started to run towards her palm and collected into a floating ball of water before a glass bottle manifested around it, along with a cork plugging its top.

“It’s a fast way to get dry.” she switched the towel for a shirt, now that it won’t get soaked and went to empty the bottle in the sink.

“Okay, so that wasn’t Rozu… Hmm, try aiming your hand at something.”

Rozu aimed at the nightstand lamp.

“Now try, uh… shoot a laser at it.”

Nothing happened.

“...Well. It would have been convenient if that worked. Your power may be more complex than that.”

“Or I don’t have one.”

“At least now the next Oathwater we find can definitely go to Miyuki.” Bow said.

“I guess.” Miyuki said. “I had hoped Rozu would be able to use their power right away.”

“Hey, don’t worry.” Rozu smiled. “I’m glad you talked me into it. Either my power will show sometime in the future. Or I don’t have one. There’s nothing more for me to do regarding this than wait. Do you get what I mean?”

“The whole issue is out of your hands now, yeah.”

Phesmux entered their circle again. “How are you all feeling by the way? That was the first real fight you had been in, right?”

“...It’s the first fight where odds seemed to be stacked against me.” Trixie said.

“If you plan to explore the upper seas, you might run into fights like these. Not just Apologies.”

No one responded.

“See, you are registered criminals now to them. If they see you again, they will start another fight with you if enough witnesses are around.”

“Why witnesses?”

“There’d be no point in fighting you with no one to see. They want people to know the reason they attack you is because you broke their laws. So that people know that they’ll be unharmed as long as they follow their rules. That’s how you control people with fear.” Phesmux flicked her tongue out. Rozu did too out of compulsion. Miyuki’s tongue also slipped out to her collarbone and remained there. Trixie could tell it was uncomfortable for her to keep it inside in its entirety.

“Well… anyone still hungry? We were about to get something to eat, right?” Trixie remembered.

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