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imonthinice · 3 years ago

Text

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 17/?

Word Count: 3.8k

Author’s Note: Y/N - Your name.

So, when I started this, I didn’t expect it to become what it is, or for it to really be taken seriously. I wrote it because I wanted to get better at storytelling, and now I’m averaging 20 notes a day. That’s insane to me.

Warnings: Eludes to sex, mentions of trauma, mentions of court system, victim blaming, mentions of injuries, swearing, No beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Waking up next to Jason was becoming something of a routine for Y/N. It had been 4 days in a row that she woke up next to him or with him in arm’s reach. She loved that about their relationship, how quickly they both could fall asleep with each other.

She rolled over in her bed and realized Jason was sweating and clutching the sheets. She leant over him slightly and turned on the fan, hoping he would sweat less so he could be in less pain.

She didn’t know what would actually stop the pain, she didn’t actually know if he was in pain. She reached out to stroke his back, just trying to comfort him, it seemed to work. He didn’t exactly reject her advances to rub his back. But he did jump a bit when she touched him.

She didn’t want him to be hurt by her touching him, so she did attempt to wake him up. He didn’t answer her though, so she got up from her bed and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked rough like she had been crying all night about the trial. Makeup running, eyes puffy, bloodshot. But what else did she expect after that trial? She didn’t remember anything.

She decided to shower, in her own shower. It had been 3 days since she last showered, which was okay but it wasn’t something she was used to.

She got into her shower and just thought. She was fucked up. She had been fucked up this entire time, she had hidden secrets from Jason, from everyone. She thought it was selfish, immature, and irresponsible that she did that. But she also didn't know how to talk to them all.

How do I even start that conversation? Hey, I’m fucked up, help me. I’m sorry, I messed up, she thought, I can’t do that, I can’t.

She got out of the shower and glanced at the clock like she would normally, it was 4:00am. That’s new, she thought, I didn’t know it was this early, maybe I should not have showered.

She smiled to herself a bit and took care of her face, doing a facial routine, just trying to calm herself and come off that high she was on for the majority of the day before. She knew she had to take care of herself to help her become stable again.

She knew what she did yesterday was linked to trauma, she just knew it. She didn’t know what it was, or how to combat it. But she knew she would probably not be mentally capable of watching the rest of the trial, and that was okay with her, she didn’t want to watch the rest of the trial. She would ignore her professor if he asked her to write anything about the trial. She knew he likely couldn’t because of her connections, but she wasn’t going to get mad at him.

She didn’t want to get mad at anyone for this. Opinions about the trial, asking her to talk about it, anything, she didn’t want to hate.

Jason was still asleep when she reentered her room. She smiled at him, wishing he was awake with her at that moment. She went to her notes at her desk and sighed, she guessed she would sit down and do some work. She pulled out her journal and wrote;

To each member of my family, somehow we reached here,

I’ve ended up with people wanting to hurt me,

Here we see the pain of there,

Maybe three.

I guess I can’t write poetry,

Maybe it’s all I see,

The pain, the torture, the people who hurt,

What am I doing?

She scribbled down a dying rose. She didn’t know why she did all of that. Normally she didn’t feel like that. Poetry was a good way to get all of the emotions out. Her journal had a lot, a lot, of insane writings and drawings of things she felt.

She guessed she was fucked up. But she thought the things wrong with her would make her art better. She needed therapy, probably. She was going to look into that, she decided in those moments. Therapy may help her cope with a lot of the stuff that she dealt with.

Or was she aware that she’d never be fixed?

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

She sat at her desk after making a quick coffee. It was still only 5:00am, and she was organizing her notes, just thinking. Maybe she’d paint something. Maybe she’d get a picture of the Wayne Manor Gardens and paint it. She just wanted something to fiddle with if she was going to be harassed if she left the house. She probably wasn't going to be able to leave the house for a while.

She was fine with that, she didn’t like it but she didn’t hate it either. She just wished for the trial to be over, even if the man was found not guilty of the charges.

And the longer the painting project, the longer she could spend locked away from the media. That was just all that she wanted, to walk away from the media while still keeping Jason.

He was still sleeping. She didn’t notice because she was so entranced in her own art, but he was struggling at that moment.

And then she noticed.

She got up and went to her bed and sat beside his head on the floor. She stroked his hair and tried to comfort him when he woke up.

“Hey,” she whispered.

He didn’t answer.

“You alright?” she asked.

He turned his back to her, so she stroked it.

“It’s okay if you’re not alright, baby,” she said, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

She crawled into bed with him and became the big spoon for a bit. She didn’t say anything to him, he didn’t say anything to her. He was sticky and sweaty, but she didn’t care.

Silence was killing for most people, but she sat through it and allowed him to be quiet.

She wished for the stories behind his scars, but she didn’t want to push for them. They hadn’t been together for long enough for her to ask about it. But she loved to trace his scars with her fingers, just letting him know she knew about them. She didn’t know how he felt about it. But she tried to be kind and loving towards his scars.

Some were small holes. Some were small lines. Some were long lines. One was Y-Shaped on his chest. One existed on his cheek and she couldn’t make out what it was.

She didn’t think that he was lesser because of his scars. He thought he was lesser for his scars.

“Hey, Jay. Do you want to eat breakfast? It’s 6:00am, we can dip to get food?” she asked, trying to make him feel better.

“If you don’t mention the nightmares, sure.”

“I won’t.”

He rolled over to her and smiled before kissing her.

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

They got up a couple hours later, clothes strewn across her room, boxers and pants torn. She laughed, hoping he would still have clothes to wear.

“Don’t laugh, I might have nothing to wear!”

“I hope you have something to wear, babe.”

“And what if I don’t? We were pretty messy.”

“We were, but still. If you have nothing we’re kind of fucked,” she said, glaring.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re cute. Just stop staring at me like that! It takes two to tango!”

“The forbidden horizontal tango,” she said between laughs.

“The forbidden horizontal tango is now the only way I am going to refer to sex.”

“I mean as you should.”

“My family is going to kill me for calling sex that.”

“I mean as they should,” she laughed, “Did you find clothes?” she asked, having already gotten dressed.

“Okay that’s unfair, you can’t wear new clothes when I’m stuck with ripped boxers.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have worn them in the first place,” she said, laughing, “And to be fair, Jay, I’m the one with clothes and you didn’t follow your own suggestion for an overnight bag.”

“Okay, listen, first of all,” he grabbed her, “That’s obviously my fault but shush, secondly, you’re dressing very black today,” he observed.

“Felt I would look the part of dating a Wayne.”

“No one’s going to see you.”

“That’s the point. I’m an invisible partner of a Wayne.”

“Well, I think you look nice.”

“I’m glad,” she laughed, “How ripped are your clothes?”

“Decently. Not noticeably, but decently.”

“Fun! Shall we go?”

He laughed and grabbed her arm, pulling her lightly to the car and getting in to drive.

“You ever think the vigilantes around here have complex lives?” she thought aloud.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, do they have crazy, fulfilling lives like us, or are they just there to be heroes of the night? Are they sitting there wondering if they’re going to come home to their partners or if their parents are worried about them?” she questioned.

He sat there, looking forward. If only you knew. If only you knew what I go through, what everyone goes through. He managed to laugh and blow her off, “Maybe they’re just robots made to fight crooks in alleyways.”

“I’m serious. What if they’re all out there worried they’re going to die?”

“C’mon now.”

“Jay! They’re people!”

“They’re probably okay, baby. I doubt they’re out there almost dying.”

She wanted to say ‘You almost died’ but she bit her tongue, “That’s probably true. But it’s always something I thought, even when I lied in Metropolis with god damn Superman. I always wondered if he had a home to go to.”

“Who knows. Who knows.”

“They would. Maybe I should get a job as a reporter, interview some of them. Say ‘Fuck it’ and know if they have homes.”

“That’s dangerous.”

“How?”

“My Aunt, Iris, Barry’s wife? She’s a reporter. She’s on the frontlines for the supervillains and the small-time crooks of the world.”

“So anything and everything in between? Festive.”

“Well, that’s the life of a reporter. Journalists? Like my Uncle? He deals with a lot less bullshit unless they link him to Bruce. Iris is a reporter so she’s constantly there, Clark is usually never there.”

“Well, we at least know the elusive reporter and journalist have families,” she joked and he laughed.

“The elusive reporter and journalist in their natural habitats, my favourite National Geographic episode.”

She looked out her window at the streets and the people. She hadn’t been outside at night recently on the streets of Gotham, and she missed it. There was always something about it that made her keep coming back. Maybe it was the orphaned kids that she would go and make sure were okay. Maybe it was the fact that she watched one of the vigilantes swing to another roof.

She still remembered that moment well. She thought it was amazing, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for her to have experienced. She wished she knew more, even if she just knew which one they were. So she could go on the forums and ask if people had spoken to them. Maybe it wasn’t a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, maybe others had witnessed what she did, but she wouldn’t know if she did not know which it was.

“Hey, random question, do you know the vigilantes' names in the city?” she asked Jason.

“Uh, yeah? Why?” he responded.

“Okay so, the first night I walked home from your house after my car got towed right? I saw one of them. I’m not familiar with the vigilantes of the city, so: Do you know which one is the one with the blue bird symbol on their chest?”

“Oh, that one’s Nightwing. He seems cool, I don’t know, never actually met the guy.”

“Don’t Wayne Galas get attacked by villains on the regular though?”

“That doesn’t mean we get to talk to them,” he laughed, “It would be cool if we did, though.”

“Yeah it would. Would be a killer story for your Uncle and Aunt.”

“They are the only tabloids I liked because they leave us alone.”

“No reports from the Daily Planet about the Waynes?” she joked.

“God, Dad would probably half-jokingly sue Clark over that. Like sue him for 3 dollars or somethin’ levels of jokingly suing him.”

“Now, that, that would be a story for the tabloids.”

“Remind me to tell Dad about that, maybe it’ll get the press off your back.”

“You say that like your extended family cares about my trials.”

“They do, they wonder how you found yourself wrapped up in 2 crimes in the span of 2 weeks.”

“I wish I knew how I did that.”

He laughed, “If only we knew.”

“I guess we go get breakfast now, fast food?” he asked.

“Obviously, I’m not eating in a restaurant with this high of a profile recently, my god,” she laughed.

“Alright, anything in particular? I can just order for you if you’re not up to talking to some people.”

“Go for it.”

“Alright.”

She didn’t pay attention while he ordered, instead she opened her lovely cellphone. And there they were, the tabloids click baiting the trials she was involved in. She rolled her eyes, knowing most of them were wrong, when she saw the article written by Clark Kent about it. She was tempted to read it, to know what Clark said. She figured he’d be an unbiased source fo information, but also likely more on her side than the defendant’s side. She didn’t even know the defendant's name.

She tapped on it and began reading.

The Case of The Court Versus David Brown.

Brown is a man known to the courts of Gotham, and the county jail of Gotham. When he was accused of assaulting a young woman, Ms. Y/N (Last name), not many members of the Gotham Police Force were shocked.

On the first day of the trial, Brown was asked to plead, to which he said, “Not guilty, your honor,” which is under a lot of scrutiny of those who have seen the video of Ms. (Last name) running from Brown in the alleyway where she head-butted him.

The prosecution opened their case,

“Ms. (Last name) was assaulted by the defendant, there is no question about it. The question here is if his motive was for the ransom Ms. (Last name) referenced in her interview with police after the event. The defendant very clearly went after Ms. (Last name) because of her ties to the billionaire Bruce Wayne, who would have easily paid the ransom for her if she hadn’t escaped.

The defense opened their case,

The question of whether or not my client assaulted Ms. (Last name) is not up for debate, he did assault her. However, it was in self-defense. She had assaulted him first, pulling him into the alleyway and attempting to make advances on him. She twisted the story in her on words to include the head-butting incident, in reality, my client punched her for her advances.

The people who watched the first event of the trial have noted being “Disgusted” and “Annoyed” at the practices that the defense brought to court, “Slandering the name of Ms. (Last name) when she is the victim.” many people are upset with the defense in this trial.

The next day of the trial should take place within a week. Until then, the questions are not going to be answered.

She looked at the defense's argument numerous times. She was in shock that they would accuse her of such bullshit. She was terrified that they would get away with this, when Jason pulled her out of her thoughts with a coffee.

“You shouldn’t get so involved in the tabloids right now, love.”

“Sorry, if it makes you feel better your Uncle wrote it. And thank you.”

“Anytime. I guess Clark wrote it well, but you watched the trial?”

“I don’t remember it.”

“You’re probably not going to watch more of it, are you?”

‘No way,” she said while drinking her coffee as they drove back to her house.

“That’s fair. No one expected you to be able to be able ot watch it.”

She nodded and kept drinking, “They made up so much bullshit.”

“They did, oh my god, I was pissed, baby. I was so god damn mad. Because what the fuck do you gain from lying?”

“Don’t even put that question in the universe, you know they’ll try to answer it the next time they’re in trial.”

“God you’re right,” he laughed, “Got you a breakfast sandwich. At least the dammed tabloids can’t take that away from us.”

“Thank god,” she laughed, “Thank you.”

“Seriously, anytime. It’s worth it.”

“You’ve spent so much money on me.”

“Pocket change.”

“Well, duh. Trust-fund baby.”

“Ouch.”

“I’ll take you somewhere when I’m less high-profile. Maybe we’ll fake a breakup to keep everyone off my ass so we can go somewhere.”

“Fake a breakup? Wouldn't that just make you hated?”

“I’m already hated. I’m a gold-digger, a whore, a cheater, a statistic, a suicidal maniac, a homicidal maniac, a psychopath, I can go on and on about the shit being said about me.”

“Man, people need to keep their mouths shut.”

“You could say that again- don’t actually. But like, what the fuck did I do to deserve this, honestly? All I did was go on a date with you to get bombarded, yes, I do treat the press unfairly, but I do my best to never say a bad word about them publically, just jokes,” she joked, “I hate this,” she laughed.

“I hate tihs too,” he laughed, “You’re worth it though.”

“Oh man, a week into dating, two weeks into knowing each other and we’re here.”

“We should be anywhere else but in the midst of these terrible circumstances.”

“It’s unfortunate.”

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

Drinking her coffee on her bed with Jason beside her was something else, it was probably the most they had branched out in 4 days. The silence was lovely now that neither of them were having issues. They ate and drank in silence. They didn’t need constant conversation to prove that the enjoyed the presence of each other.

She took a minute to take it all in, the messy shelves in her bedroom, the place on her desk where her laptop belonged, the broken handle to her bathroom door, the sheets on her bed which had been pulled and ruffled from Jason and her having fun.

She looked out her window and looked at the rain starting to pour and decided to cuddle closer to Jason. He was warm but had a presence of underwhelming coldness to him, like he gave off fake body heat. She didn’t know what it was, but the extremes of his body were something she enjoyed but hated.

The exposition between his black hair to his white tuff of hair, the rough eyebrows to the small and delicate freckles, the blue of his eyes which seemed to glow green. The way it was like she was driving down a road, full speed ahead, and crashed into a wall, that was how it felt to be with Jason.

But who doesn’t love to die in a fiery accident into a wall at 500mph?

She laughed internally at her own joke about him before grabbing his hand and yanking him into the living room and past her roommate, A/N. A/N did not question it, because there was a new life to her roommate recently.

She dragged him out into the rain, to which he protested.

“What the fuck, respectfully?”

She laughed, “Don’t be respectful, and trust me. I’m going to make a movie moment.”

“I’m getting wet.”

“That’s my job,” she joked as she turned on a slow song before going to Jason and dancing with him.

“Well, can’t say I’ve done this,” he said.

“I don’t think most couples do.”

“Then why are we?” he asked

“Uh, yolo? You only live once, might as well dance in the rain with one of your lovers?” she retorted.

“One of them? Am I not the only one?”

“Oh no, you are,” she laughed, “But who knows, maybe we’ll fuck monogamy up the ass,” she joked.

“Probably not.”

And they danced for a few hours. Twirling and dipping in the rain. Watching the clothes they were wearing get more and more wet until the the white parts of Y/N’s dress were see-through, which took a while considering how small they were.

Their hair was soaked and her makeup was running but they didn’t care. They were having fun, and no one was going to stop them, not a villain, not a vigilante, no one. He would wipe away her makeup since it was basically already off her face and laugh.

“Your makeup looked nice before we came out here.”

“I bet! The rain’s probably washing it all way, did I look like I was crying?”

“You looked like you were sobbing.”

She laughed, “You love to see it, you really do.”

The music was basically drowned out by the rain. It was on her phone, so it was probably water damaged from the rain, but no one cared. They just wanted to have fun.

But the dancing got tired because of the fact that Y/N was in heels, so she went and picked up her phone. It wasn’t damaged. She looked at her recent texts while Jason tugged her lightly to the bathroom, to see that Bruce Wayne, Jason’s dad, had paid off her car and it was being driven back to her house.

“Hey baby?”

“Y/N?”

“Did you tell your dad to pay off my car?”

“Oh, yeah. I figured it’d get impounded and my dad could just wait a while for you to pay back. It getting impounded was going to cost you more money.”

“God you're right and I hate that.”

He laughed and kissed her before turning on the shower.

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

That was the second time that day that they had had sex. It was impressive that they had had sex that many times, and that many rounds. They thought it was fun as all hell to have sex whenever they had the chance.

Maybe they were saying “Suck it” to Bruce, or maybe they were just having fun. Maybe it was both.

“You look so cute with my hand around your neck,” he said behind her before lightly grabbing her neck and pulling her head back to his chest. He buried his face in her shoulder.

“He says while looking down,” she joked.

“I’ll squeeze.”

“Jay, we just showered. C’mon. Keep it in your pants.”

He groaned, “No fun,” he tilted his head into the crook of her neck and started leaving little kisses.

“Jay, C’mon.”

He sighed, “Fine. Fine, fine, fine. I guess we can stop,” he jokingly-whined at her, “At least we can kiss.”

“That’s true, but get dressed.”

“Get dressed!” he whined to her, “In this economy!”

“God dammnit,” she laughed, “Stay naked then and I’ll eat your food.”

“Don’t you dare.”

#dcu #dceu #dc #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd fluff #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x fem!reader #red hood x y/n #red hood x you #red hood fluff #male oc #female oc

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hms-chill · 4 years ago

Note

#5 and #36 orrrr #60 and #72. gotta have some fluff and some angst. preferably les mis and whatever ship strikes your fancy.

So... consider: both. Here’s some Courferre, with Eposette coming soon because I love those girls.

60. “You’d be a great dad.”

72. “They’re going to love you, don’t worry!”

“Alright, but you know I’m not, like... historically great with kids? You know they don’t like me, right?” Combeferre’s lost track of how many times he’s adjusted his tie. Courfeyrac says he doesn’t need it. He’s wearing it anyway, because first impressions are important, and meeting your boyfriend’s extended family is no time to cut corners. Even if that means wearing a tie to a cookout.

“Well, we can eat at the grown up table if you want, but if Aunt Lena’s there, they’re going to get into politics and it’s going to be uncomfortable for all of us. Organizing the kids table for a game of water gun tag is way more fun.” Combeferre rolls his eyes, and Courf stands on his tip toes to kiss his boyfriend’s cheek. “They’re going to love you, don’t worry! And if they don’t, well, half of them live in Colombia anyway, so we won’t have to see them that often. It’ll be okay. I mean, it’s probably going to be a lot, but we can leave if you’re uncomfortable.”

“I just want them to like me.”

“They will. Trust me.”

“Quiz me on who’s related again?” Courfeyrac rolls his eyes. The light turns green, and they start forward as Courf asks whose son Sebastian is, and Combeferre focuses on remembering the family web so he can’t worry.

They get to Courf’s parents’ house sooner than he’s ready, a sprawling ranch style that Combeferre’s been to a million times. Never for a family reunion, but still. The sight of the window he used to crawl through or the tree they used to climb every day after school helps him relax a bit. Beside him, Courf is all but bouncing in the seat, demonstrating for the upteenth time why he’s not allowed to drive them places. There are people on the big wrap around front porch, and even before the car is off, Courf is on his way to greet them. By the time Combeferre gets it parked and gets out himself, there are at least three children around Courfeyrac’s legs, and he’s picking one of the youngest up to talk to her. He’s so happy that for a minute, Combeferre forgets to be worried. If these are the people who produced someone as loving as Courfeyrac, he’s going to be fine.

Courf waves him over, introducing his cousins. He calls Combeferre his boyfriend, which is normal, but still feels special, especially with kids. One of them asks what Combeferre does, and Courf explains that he’s a scientist helping people get better, and then the questions start. One of them asks if Combeferre ever helps people who threw up because the plane was shaky, because they had to sit next to someone who did that on the flight from Colombia and they didn’t like it. Another kid asks why people throw up when planes shake, and Combeferre explains that their brains don’t like it when they’re sitting still but moving, so they think something’s wrong and make people throw up to fix it. And suddenly, there are four pairs of wide eyes trained on him, and Combeferre has accidentally become the center of attention from an enraptured and growing crowd of children.

Courfeyrac goes to greet his aunts and uncles, but Combeferre stays with the little cousins, telling them about why they need shots and get scabs and why their ears hurt on planes. When it’s time to eat, he’s dragged to the kids’ table, where he explains what happens when they eat and why some people are allergic to things and why dinosaurs are on bandaids. When he eventually has to go introduce himself to some of the adults, Sebastian insists on being the one to do it, so Combeferre gets pulled around by a very excited eight year old, Courfeyrac following them to help with introductions.

They eventually convince the kids to play hide and seek, and Combeferre and Courfeyrac both go for the best spot in the house. Somehow, they manage to squeeze in together trading shushes and giggles easily.

“I thought you said you were bad with kids,” Courfeyrac says once they’re somewhat settled.

“I thought I was. I don’t know why they like me so much.”

“Maybe because you’re amazing, and wonderful, and smart, and the best boyfriend on the planet?” Combeferre feels the heat in his cheeks, but between his skin tone and the darkness of their hiding place, he’s pretty sure Courfeyrac can’t tell.

“I just thought... I mean, Gavroche likes me, but that’s because I don’t treat him like a kid because he’s way too mature for that. I thought... I thought normal kids would hate me. I thought they’d love you, because everyone loves you, but I’d be stuck making small talk with your siblings and cousins and aunts and uncles while you were off with the nephews and nieces, not the other way around.”

“Wow, if only someone had predicted that the kids would love you,” Courfeyrac mutters, and Combeferre shoves him, earning a squawk as Courfeyrac struggles to stay hidden.

It’s all for naught, as Sebastian’s head pokes in a minute later to say, “you’re not any good at this. If you’re so smart why didn’t you hide by yourself?”

Courfeyrac says something about letting him find them, and Sebastian rolls his eyes, leaving them to figure out how to get out of their hiding spot without hurting each other while he looks for the others. On their way back to base, Courfeyrac says, “you know how you’re always saying if we had kids I’d be good with them? Well, you’d be a great dad, too. Not now, but you know, in the future. If a kid ever needed our help, you’d be good at it.”

On AO3

Anyway I used her name so shoutout to Lena, my badass Chicana prof who taught me about social justice and once snuck into communist Cuba for vacation

Want to support the Hannah Makes Art fund? You can tip me in ko-fi here!

#my fic: les mis #thank you so much for this I love writing les mis #like it doesn't get as much traction but it's so fun #courferre #Combeferre #Courfeyrac #les mis #les mis fic #les amis #les amis de l'abc

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puckdaniels · 4 years ago

Text

Knew You’d Show Up

Tagging → Quinn Fabray, Noah Puckerman, Kiran Basanti, Sara Puckerman, Abril Briscoe

Time Frame → Late Saturday Night; September 5, 2020

Location → Miami, FL; Uncle Jami’s restaurant

General Notes → At Uncle Jami’s wedding reception, Puck and Quinn see each other for the first time in years… Things are different. [Pinterest ScMoodboard] [Song: Hate the Club by Kehlani]

Tired of going out, scared I’ll run into you

Damn, you know I hate the club But I came 'cause I knew you'd show up Maybe if I drank enough I'll make my way over to ya

Miami wasn't too bad of a place to get married, she supposed.

With the sun setting and the windows on the wall of the restaurant that faced the ocean all retracted to let in the warm, beachy breeze, Sara Puckerman would even say that it was nice. She still preferred Cabo, though. However, she’d never let herself say it out loud tonight because this wasn’t her wedding. It was her Uncle Jami’s.

So she put up with Miami traffic and the rest of Miami for him and his new bride, Evangeline.

“They look good,” her brother said unnecessarily because duh. Noah could be annoying at best, but redundantly annoying at his worst, so she just rolled her eyes and nodded all the same. “Can’t believe it took them ten years.”

“Hashtag: relationship goals.”

“Hashtag: follow me around for a decade so I know it’s real.”

“Hashtag: might as well make it official before we die,” Sara managed to snort out before they both devolved into giggles and got shushed (and poked) by their teïta. Oh yeah, Evangeline’s daughter was giving her little speech about her mother or whatever. But the couple really did look good; her uncle smiling his mischievous grin, looking every bit a famous music mogul in his expensive silk and gold chains in the setting Miami sun, his pretty wife on his arm in a flowing seafoam green gown and her hair draped with pearls like a mermaid who’d caught him with her song. They were made for this place - the city, the newly acquired restaurant that Sara surely would be contracted in filling with the most exquisite artwork from the galleries she worked with.

Her brother might complain that there were too many people at the wedding, but Sara and Evangeline had worked tirelessly to get it down to 300 guests, what with all of Jami’s contacts and celebrity friends made over the years. Of course, only 100 or so guests were invited to stay for the reception; company bigwigs and blood relatives. The most important concern Sara had about the guest list was whether or not they dressed in theme and when exactly Jami and Evangeline would realize that their niece made the theme Miami in the 80s without consulting them. Still, Chris Evans looked great in a vice jacket.

“Speech time,” Noah said and Sara sighed, but straightened so her shoulder pads wouldn’t droop as she made her way to the band stage and took the mic from Evangeline’s daughter with a hug.

“Hi everyone! I’m Sara, Jami’s favorite niece.” Sara smiled, a small thrill going through her like it always did when she spoke in public nowadays, not because she loved the spotlight, but because she overcame the shyness of it she had so long ago. “What can I say about Jamil Levi that hasn’t already been said - or isn’t being currently said?” She chuckled when she noticed the laugh she got out of her uncle. “Honestly, this wedding was such a long time coming, I thought this speech about my uncle would be delivered at his funeral, but here we are. Turns out he did right by my Auntie ‘Vangeline. Finally.” She had to take the mic away from her mouth to avoid cackling into it as the rest of the room echoed her “Finally!” The rest of the speech wasn’t too fancy, just a few stories about her and her brother being around her uncle and her finally aunt and seeing their romance and experiencing the fun of it with them.

“Honestly, you guys are legendary and I love you. And I’m very proud of myself for making it through this speech without crying… So anyway, here’s ‘Wonderwall,’” Sara said, signalling for Noel Gallagher to start his little song where he was waiting behind her on the stage with his guitar and walking off to hug her still laughing uncle. Then she pushed him towards his Evangeline so they could get their first dance on.

After a few minutes of feeling emotional, she decided to intercept a waiter with a tray of champagne and serve a few of the guests herself, thanking them for coming with a wide grin. She carried the mostly empty tray to her table and set it down to kiss Solo’s cheek before turning to beam at Quinn Fabray and her date. “Hey lovely! I’m so glad to see you!” She rushed in for a hug and cheek pecks giddily. “I missed you!”

There were very few people Quinn that would brave the sweltering Florida humidity for. Jami, luckily, was one of them. It was worth the trip, if only to see her mentor actually follow through with the nuptials with his frankly, fantastic intended. It'd been long enough, so long that at times if it hadn't been for the occasional piece in a magazine or celeb gossip site referring to Evangeline as Jami's 'longtime companion', Quinn would've figured they'd already tied the knot. It was sweet, having that kind of connection and Quinn was happy to be part of the day, watching them exchange vows with the rest of Jami and Evangeline's family, friends, and some famous faces because of course.

So she smiled along at Sara's speech, funny and heartfelt as it was. Her smile grew fonder when Kiran's arm curled around the back of her chair, his fingers brushing her shoulder in one of his sweet and subtle gestures. They watched as Noel took to the stage for the happy couple's first dance and Quinn chuckled at Kiran's nod of approval.

"Takes a hell of a guy to get Noel Gallagher's head outta his ass to play a gig," he mused and Quinn agreed with a hum. She'd only reached for her glass of champagne when Sara appeared, bringing her special brand of bubbly and a tight hug that Quinn returned. "Missed you too," she told her. "Feels like it's been forever. You look amazing."

With a giggle, Sara pulled back and shimmied her shoulder pads.

"And you - you look so good and, most importantly, on theme," she returned, a satisfied catlike grin on her face. With a tilt of her head that sent the waves of her bob swinging, she gave a wink to Quinn's date. "It's always so great to see you, too, Kiran. Thank you for coming to the last gallery showing! At least half of the dynamic could be there," she added, blinking innocently but deliberately to Quinn. "Not that I'm bitter that this is my first time seeing you in over a month or anything. In Florida of all places."

"Yeah, I have no idea how the hell you managed to get Jami to greenlight such a theme but I'll chalk it up to the power of Puckerman persuasion." Quinn definitely wasn't complaining, loving any chance to toss on something fun for such a happy occasion, and she knew as soon as she saw the colors and vibe it had Sara's artistic flair all over it. She didn't miss the dig about the long gap since their last meeting (it was hard not to, Sara's hint was as unsubtle as her shoulder pads), and Quinn shook her head while Kiran laughed.

"I'm just here as a designated purse holder," he quipped, lifting the clutch that'd been sitting in his lap since the pair had sat down. "But it's good to see you again. "

Quinn rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Please. I got the rundown since he wouldn't stop talking about your pieces. Feels like I was there too instead of being stuck in Atlanta." The Florida of it all made her smile, because despite the state, it was still a lovely setting. "Florida might not be so bad today, at least. I see that's your handiwork. But I should be around the city more in the next few weeks, so we'll make a plan."

"Well, you know I'm always all about the aesthetic no matter where we go, so I figured palms and neon will at least look good on the blogs." Sara started to tip back her glass of champagne, but paused when she caught a glimpse of someone over Quinn's shoulder. "And where are you two going?"

What answered her was a roll of eyes and the sound of flip-flops that had long ago been switched from her own borrowed pumps as her roommate flip-flopped around the couple Sara was speaking to and took a seat in the unoccupied chair beside them. Abril Briscoe didn't look too happy and neither did the almost 15-month old in her arms. "I'm sitting in my seat."

That made Sara's frown almost comical at that point as she looked between Abril, the empty seat next to her still and then Quinn and Kiran.

"Auntie Vange's seating chart sucks," she mumbled to herself before straightening and having a seat herself. "Quinn, Kiran, this is my roommate, Abril, and her little one, Ezekiel. Abril, this is Quinn and Kiran. Kiran owns that restaurant we went to for Amir's birthday and Quinn works on music stuff with Uncle Jami. It's more important than that, but I wouldn't be able to tell you."

Sara watched as her roommate's eyes went wide with recognition almost immediately, her back straightening as her face went suspiciously blank. "Quinn Fabray? Oh."

The pause in their conversation and the arrival of a new someone, toting another allowed Quinn to reach for her glass, taking a minute sip of the champagne as Sara made the introductions. Kiran offered a smile to Sara's roommate and a wave to the toddler in her arms while Quinn laughed at the broad overview of intros.

"That's the general gist, I guess." She nodded in greeting at the other woman, her smile turning curious at the reaction that followed, the shift in posture and expression. "Quinn Fabray, yes. I'm sorry, do we know each other?"

Quinn's gaze briefly shifted to Sara, but returned, polite but searching. Vaguely she wondered if Sara had ever mentioned having a roommate, and couldn't recall an earlier reference though the woman seemed to know who she was, and that was interesting.

Sara watched as more realization crossed Abril's face with a wince. "Oh, well, I guess you don't know who I am. That's fine. Okay." Then Abril turned to her expectantly.

"Oh, so I guess I don't really talk about my roomie that much," Sara said, mostly just so that there were words in the air taking up space and time until she could figure out how to spin this in the most gentle way. "It hasn't been that long; maybe 5 or so months, but I love being an auntie!"

Abril didn't look entertained as she shifted her baby in her lap and Sara didn't even glance at Quinn to see what she looked like. "Where's your brother, Sara?"

Quinn considered her reaction, further puzzled by the woman and her tone that edged on bothered. She looked at Sara just as Abril did, her confusion evident at the words offered that were in no way an explanation. In fact, it only seemed to add to the vibe, confusing and slightly awkward and Quinn felt Kiran shift beside her, his hand absently rubbing her shoulder while he reached for his drink and her gaze narrowed slightly at Sara's words. "I'm sorry, what? Auntie?"

Kiran had only lifted the glass to his lips when he glanced over, noting Quinn's question and the way Sara hadn't bothered to acknowledge Quinn after her comment. "Oh is this your son?" Kiran asked politely, smiling at Abril and the baby in her arms. "He's adorable."

When Abril turned back to Kiran to introduce Ezekiel properly, Sara felt a bit of relief from the heavy gazes, but she still knew better than to look at Quinn. Beautiful Quinn. Smart Quinn. Soon to shish-kabob her Quinn. Instead, she turned in her seat and stretched up to see if she could catch Noah. And there he was, her brother in his stupid Miami print shirt and gold chain dancing with their mother. She tried to set him on fire with her eyes as best as she could until he finally met her gaze and made his way over, confusion on his face as he pushed through the crowd. Abril was explaining that Easy was 15 months when Puck finally reached the table and frowned at the strained atmosphere. "Sara, what did you do?"

"Nothing! Why is - Why would I have done something? I'm just... sitting. Not drinking enough."

Rolling his eyes, he turned to nod at Quinn, then the man he recognized as Quinn's boyfriend Kiran, then finally smiled at Abril and the little boy in her lap who lit up at the sight of him and called out, "Honey!" Puck maneuvered around the table until he could pull his son out of Abril's lap and kiss his face all over. "Habibi! You having fun with Mommy and Auntie? Making new friends?" He turned back just in time to catch Sara dropping her face into her hand. "What am I missing?"

There were a few reactions she could sift through but so far, annoyed was winning out. It grew the longer Sara pointedly avoided her, and she grit her teeth. Watching Kiran make polite talk eased it a little, appreciative of his cool head in most situations which she supposed must come in handy working in a high stress environment like a kitchen. This felt like a damn setup. Her face was neutral, with a decidedly frosty expression in hazel eyes. The woman she now knew as Sara's roommate was clearly more. To Sara and apparently Puck. Who managed to breeze through, festive for the occasion, and she barely acknowledged his greeting though Kiran managed a hello. Her focus was on the child, who looked very much like his father. He was indeed adorable, and she could admit that despite her irritation.

"It would seem that I'm the one who missed something," Quinn replied, her tone even and deceptively light. "Guess I'm further out the loop than I'd realized. You have a son."

Despite Quinn's possession of the notion, Puck still found himself really confused at the way she spoke. "Yeah, well... we haven't spoken in a minute, so..."

He noticed Abril shifting awkwardly in her seat and sat down next to her, letting Easy stand on his lap and press moist (always moist) hands against his cheeks while humming, "Hnn-nee, hnn-nee." The mother of his child had a tight expression on her face, one he knew they would be addressing as soon as they got away from this table. "Weird seating arrangement, huh? Hey Solo."

"That's what I'm saying!" Sara burst out, ignoring how their step-uncle-slash-Noah's fucking ex boyfriend quickly looked away as if her wasn't paying attention and turning instead to Quinn, wonderful, beautiful, sizzling under the surface Quinn. "I really wanted to avoid all this awkwardness. This just sort of happened. I should've looked at the seating chart."

Puck didn't quite understand Sara's apologetic tone towards Quinn; despite them being broken up for longer than they'd been together, his sister had maintained a friendship with the woman and was careful not to flaunt it in his face. Unlike the rest of his family - oh, maybe that's why Abril was upset. He stood suddenly and tightened his grip on the boy. "Hey, Briscoe, let's talk a little. Excuse us, please."

Quinn wasn't entirely certain Sara hadn't been responsible for the seating arrangements, considering how involved she'd been with planning. And now she was saddled with surprises and forced small talk. She conceded Puck's point with a small tilt of her head, and fully ignored Sara's thin explanation about awkwardness. Awkward, she expected. There would always be a little bit in interactions with Puck's family. She could manage that, considering she was hardly around them much, at least in such great numbers. She hadn't even noticed Solo had also been seated there. Ambushed, however, was a different matter. A surprise in toddler form, looking like a perfect mix of her ex and the woman who apparently knew enough about her to be bothered. Quinn watched as Puck stood and excused himself, and turned to Kiran.

"Think we could both use a refill. Do you mind?" He nodded, and she knew he was grateful for an escape, giving her shoulder a squeeze before getting up and heading to the bar. With the table a little less crowded, Quinn turned her focus to Sara, irritation evident in her eyes. "Seriously?"

"Oh, don't look at me like that." Sara could understand that this was a lot of information to process for Quinn, but she was sure there was a way she could leave this conversation without blame. "How was I supposed to know my aunt was going to put every person Noah ever fucked at the same table as the cousins?"

"The fact that you think the seating arrangement is the problem let's me know you're full of it," Quinn replied tersely. She shook her head. "You seem to have left out a ton of important information in those sporadic phone calls."

"Well, ehh." Maybe now was not the time or place to argue about the seating arrangement, Sara conceded. She tapped acrylics together to give her fingers something to do and then looked imploringly to Quinn. "Okay, you have to understand how not fair this is for me, right? My brother hasn't spoken to you in years - you haven't spoken to me about my brother in years - so by the time I realized you didn't know he had a baby, it was kinda weird to bring the baby up. Right?" Suddenly, she snapped her fingers. "But you didn't even recognize Abril - did you unfollow me on Instagram?"

Quinn cut her a sharp look, but it was a fair point; the subject of Puck hadn't been brought up for a long time. That particular chapter of her life had closed and her relationship with Sara had operated independent of what no longer existed between Quinn and the elder Puckerman.

"Right, so the choices were say nothing or wedding ambush? Makes sense." She scoffed and wished Kiran would return with her drink. She was in dire need of something heavy on the whiskey or gin. Sara's question made her brow furrow; She'd unfollowed Puck a long time ago, feeling as if a clean slate would be better in the long run, but not Sara.

"No," she replied with a shake of her head. "But I turned off notifs ages ago and haven't really kept up with social media in some time." Saying it aloud made her sound like just the type of 'too busy for you' celebs she hated, but she had been preoccupied with a seemingly non-stop schedule, it was possible that the error was also on her, as well. Quinn sighed. Still annoyed, but slightly less, she turned to Sara. "How long has she been living with you?"

"Just since the beginning of the year when Abril's lease was up. It was Puck's idea. We collectively decided to buy a brownstone." She gave a dismissive wave of her hand at that and got back to what she wanted to talk about: her. "No ambush, sis. At the most, I thought you'd see them across the room and just come to the natural conclusion." With an impressive shrug of her big shoulders, Sara tipped the rest of her champagne back. "But you forgive me for this and I'll forgive you for being too famous for me, yeah?"

"I see." Quinn gave a short nod. The 'natural conclusion' seemed like a shitty way to avoid responsibility, but pointing that out felt like an argument she wasn't trying to have on someone else's wedding day, when there was alcohol to drink and exes to pointedly avoid. "You're not off the hook, not by a mile," Quinn warned, though there was no real bite behind it. That would come later when they weren't caught up in the atmosphere of love, and at least not in the presence of a handful of Grammy award winners. "But I'll consider this a truce."

"We'll chat in New York," Sara promised, more relieved than anything that nothing got loud. Though she was sure any incident would soon be overshadowed by the inevitable celebrity nonsense, but still she hated when Quinn was annoyed with her. She opened her mouth to say as much, but then was stopped at the return of Abril and her little boy to their seat. "Hi, Easy! Auntie missed you."

"I'm sure Auntie did," Abril said, shaking her head at Sara and turning to Quinn. "I'm so sorry about... that. There was some confusion, but I think Puck cleared it up for me pretty good. It's nice to meet you, Quinn, especially since you understand what it's like to be around these people."

Sara rolled her eyes and glanced behind herself to see where Puck had gone off too. Surprisingly, he and Kiran were standing at the bar, talking over glasses of something amber. She narrowed her eyes at that - typical men.

"I'm sure," was all she managed to get out before Abril returned, son in tow. Quinn offered a polite smile to the woman and her apologetic words. It seemed she'd been a victim of the weird circumstances as well and Quinn wasn't about to hold that against her. Her smile shifted to genuine laughter at 'these people', knowing exactly how Puck's family could be in any given situation. "No need to apologize, it's totally fine. They're practically a twenty-four hour telenovela." Her gaze fell briefly to the little boy. "You have a beautiful son. I'm sure Teïta has been very busy spoiling the hell out of him."

She'd only seen the older woman briefly but was sure there'd be an ambush in her future later on, especially with Kiran in tow. Kiran, who, as she followed Sara's gaze was apparently chatting up Puck at the bar. Quinn could only imagine that conversation but opted against it.

"Oh, thank you." Abril pressed a kiss to her baby's sugar brown curls, obviously grateful that the earlier tension was gone. She smiled a bit at the mention of Teïta. "I mean, yala, like, I'm surprised she isn't already over here scooping him up. She was in the hotel room last night with just snacks on snacks on snacks. He thought it was Christmas and tried to leave with her when she left to go back to her room. Noah had to bring him to her room this morning, too."

Quinn laughed, knowing few kids could resist a food haul and tempting grandparents. "That's adorable. And pretty relatable. That snack rush is a good one." Her gaze drifted back to the bar, noting the drink beside Kiran's hand that was clearly meant for her she shook her head. "I know he's forgotten all about my cocktail," she muttered, shaking her head as Kiran and Puck continued their conversation. She turned back to Sara and Abril and flashed them a quick smile. "If you ladies will excuse me, I need to go rescue my damn drink from that social butterfly."

Quinn got up and made her way to the bar, catching the tail end of conversation about...movies. Which seemed anticlimactic and no real excuse for why her drink wasn't in hand. "Almost thought you were behind the bar making it yourself," she told her boyfriend. She smiled when he did and accepted the highball glass he passed to her, taking a long sip and savoring the smooth bite of the whiskey sour.

"Sorry, we kinda ran into Chris Evans and that sparked a whole action movie debate." Kiran shook his head. "Plus some prime people-watching happening at the bar. Puck's good for the running commentary."

Quinn regarded Puck, and gave a brief nod. "I'm sure."

"Well, you know most of these people, right? I'm sure you already know what we're saying, Fabray," Puck said, nodding back to his ex. He took a sip of his drink and regarded the pair over it, hazel eyes deliberate in the way they swept over Quinn and her dress before dragging up the long form of Kiran in his suit. They looked good together. "Kiran, I know my uncle was interested in your opinion on the venue since he bought it. I don't think he even named it yet, but he wouldn't shut up about the kitchen when he gave us the tour yesterday."

She could, considering it was a weird mix of faces in the crowd. Quinn hadn't done much mingling since small talk with celeb types felt like work and this was strictly a non-work trip, so she could settle for petty snipes. "I've probably said worse, so yes."

Mentions of a kitchen and Quinn knew Kiran would be interested, face brightening and he glanced around.

"It's a beautiful place. If the kitchen's anything like the view, I'm sure he won't have a hard time finding a head chef to run the place. I know plenty of people looking to be poached if he's interested." Quinn shook her head. "Ruthless. Jami likes hijacking talented people, so he'll probably consider it."

She fished out the cherry in her drink, chewing on the sweet maraschino before speaking again.

"How's work?" she asked Puck, figuring his job was a safe topic and also, she was curious about where it had taken him.

Tucking away the idea of chef poaching to present to his uncle later, Puck gestured for the bartender to bring them all a new round of drinks. He arched a brow at Quinn's rather diplomatic question, but answered, "I'm with the New York Aquarium now. The team there is amazing - Abril's actually our director - and we're pretty excited about this year's exhibits. You should tell Frannie about it. I bet her kids would love it. I remember Vinni freaking out about the octopuses, but I'm sure she's over it by now."

That was surprising, learning he worked with Abril, though Quinn's expression remained unchanged. "That's great for you," she offered, the compliment simple but sincere, lips eventually lifting in a brief smile at the mention of her sister and niece. "Octopuses had a good run, but she's pretty deep into a mermaid obsession. I'm sure it won't take much convincing that the aquarium's got a few merfolk to get her excited about it. I'll let Fran know." Frannie would surely appreciate the gesture, getting the kids out and also seeing Puck. Though Quinn wondered how she'd take the news of Puck's baby-shaped surprise. "The twins have never been to an aquarium, far as I know. It'll be a good first experience for them."

"Oh God, mermaids," Puck snorted, remembering a whole debacle about the same subject when Abril first got the director position. "You guys might need to bring Vinni to Coney Island for that one, but I'm sure the twins will have a blast. Ever since Easy started walking, he acts like every visit is the first time. It's cute." He accepted his new drink with a brief quirk of lips to the bartender. "So what's new with you guys? Another restaurant? Another Grammy? Or is that just same shit, different day, hmm?"

Perhaps it was the newness of it all (and of course the surprise pelting of information), but hearing Puck mention his son (his son) was so surreal. Quinn knew a wedding definitely wasn't the time to process all of that, but the ease in which he casually referenced a moment with his son (his son, Jesus would that ever stop sounding so...next dimension), it was intriguing. And a little endearing. There was a flavor of the Puck she'd known, tucked beneath the palm-printed dress shirt. Something in the way he sipped his drink, what he ordered, and the way he could casually keep up a conversation without really revealing much at all. That, she could recall, despite the passage of time and the wildly different places they found themselves in. Quinn smiled at Kiran when he plucked her empty glass from her hands and replaced it with the new round that Puck had ordered, letting the small lift of lips linger when she turned to Puck.

"They're great at that age," she replied politely. "Everything's just fun and new and you're a bit jealous of their energy level. Vinni still kicks my ass with every auntie outing." She sipped her whiskey. "No more awards just yet but I'm good and busy. Can't complain at all."

Kiran nodded. "'Bout the same. New restaurant's opening in Atlanta in a few months. I'll be glad when it is, my hair can't take this stress." He patted the side of his stylish cut and Quinn smiled, gently rapping her knuckles upside his head.

"You're fine, stop fishing for compliments." She glanced at Puck. "Sara mentioned you bought a brownstone? Major level adulting happening."

At the mention of energy levels, Puck looked beyond the couple just in time to catch the sight of Ezekiel spilling something across the table causing Abril's face to twist in the way it did before curses in multiple languages started to fly. Snorting softly through his nose at both his son's antics and the humbleness of the pair beside him, he couldn't help but watch and admire their dynamic. Quinn gave nothing away as always, but he knew her enough still to see that she and this guy... Kiran - they were happy. One of those couples that made you imagine the intimacy between them, maybe not the kind Puck's mind automatically jumped to, but he could picture them laughing together on the cab ride back to their hotel, Quinn resting her head on his shoulder, Kiran knowing to twine their fingers together without asking. It was nice and it didn't hurt to see as much as Puck always thought it would.

"God, that fucking brownstone," Puck said when his mind finally caught up with the conversation. "For whatever reason, it's in my name, but that's all Sara and Abril." He took a sip of his drink, rolling the bourbon on his tongue at the thought of the check Sara had tried to give him then decided to give to Abril as 'our dad's gift to his grandson' when Puck rejected it. Sure enough, the Brooklyn brownstone they put a down payment on was in the seven-figure range, but there were enough people paying on the mortgage that by the time Easy was old enough to own property, it would be paid off.

"I got this deal, right? With the housing association? I'm the super for the block. So basically I haven't known peace for the last six months." As if he summoned it, he had to move to the side a bit so that someone long and dressed in something slinky could rub a hand against his bicep on her way to calling down the bartender, but he just rolled his eyes. "Just had a flashback; you wouldn't believe how many times this one mother of four 'loses' the battery to her fire alarm."

Quinn had noticed the subtle shift in Puck's gaze, and figured he was no doubt keeping watch of the happenings at the table. Which was interesting, seeing him in parent mode. Interesting, and still pretty damn surreal. She chalked it up to time, passing as it did. The only explanation she could think of that would've brought them to this point, Puck with a kid and a brownstone in tow...and apparently the complaints of a few floors worth of whiny tenants. The idea of Puck--he of the short patience--being anyone's super only added to the familiarity of that general chaotic weirdness of his life that Quinn was glad to see he maintained. She'd called them 'Wandering Jew' tales back in the day, and remembering that little tidbit was enough to make her smile, grin growing when Kiran laughed at Puck talking about the attention his position in the building afforded him.

"That's not surprising at all," she replied. "Those housewives always appreciate a pretty face who's handy with a step ladder. Sure you're very popular with all the Fabletics crowd."

"Fabletics..." At that, the man gave an over-dramatic shudder. "So much Lululemon and early afternoon red wine." With another shudder, Puck shook his head a last time, then tossed back the rest of his drink. As much as he, surprisingly, didn't mind catching up with Quinn and Kiran, he could sense a tantrum coming along - whether from Abril or Easy, he wasn't sure, but he knew he needed to intercept. "Well, it's good to see you guys here. I'm glad y'all are doing well and, Kiran, you gotta tell me more about Atlanta when we get back to the table, but let me go get habibi before he wanna be startin' somethin', y'know?"

He nodded at the couple and maneuvered around them to head back to the table just in time to scoop up the little boy who had just scrunched up his face. "None of that. Let's go step on the beach, huh? I know you're tired of everyone."

Ezekiel just whined and placed his face in his father's neck. Glancing over all the curls, Puck met his sister's eyes in a significant enough way to get her sighing. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about his ex... or his other ex... or his other ex, but they were all sitting at the table through duck and dessert, so it was now or never.

"Abril knows about you and Solo, right?" Sara asked as soon as they stepped out of the restaurant and onto the stone path towards the water. "Yeah, she knows about everything. I'm sure she just didn't expect to have him sitting across from her. Or Quinn sitting next to her."

"Why are you talking to me like I arranged the seating? Because I. Did. Not. I'm just as... flabbergasted as everyone else. It's like an episode of Maury or something," she huffed, halting as the stones petered off so her heels wouldn't sink in the sand. Puck was kind enough to stop with her, letting Easy slide down his body to hang off his leg. "Are you okay?"

At first, the question felt weird because people didn't usually ask him, but eventually he nodded. "I'm fine. It's... I'm fine. I expected to see her, but I didn't expect to be fine about it. Y'know?"

"I know," Sara looked at him softly for a moment and then gestured back to the party. "Go back in. I'll sit out here with Ease for a little while you mingle. We could both use a break."

"You sure?" At her nod, he bent and picked up his now wiggling little boy, then passed him to his aunt. Then he walked back into the party.

"Seems like duty calls," Kiran remarked as the pair watched Puck walk back towards their table to mercifully relieve Abril from what Quinn could see was the beginnings of a kiddie meltdown. That in itself was...surprising, and she gave a small hum at her boyfriend's casual observation. For her part, she drained her glass and debated another. She hated drinking too much around a work crowd but figured since it was a wedding (and she'd had enough surprises to make shit awkward), another wouldn't hurt. She ordered a whiskey sour, lips lifting in a small smile when Kiran's hand reached past her to tip the bartender. She caught his fingers in her grasp afterwards, linking them sweetly and turning her face to meet his, glad when he took the hint and leaned in for a brief kiss that was exactly right in the moment. They moved out of the way for the rest of the party goers, lingering on the edges of where tables met the dancefloor that many seemed to be taking advantage of and Kiran gave her hand a small squeeze.

"Just know if we're forced into some kinda line dance, that's our cue to exit" he told her, waiting for the laugh that would follow and sure enough, the rasp of it was enough to make him smile. "I don't know if the cupid shuffle is a valid reason to duck out, but it's a very strong case."

Running away just yet didn't seem like an option. Even if the seating arrangements were...less than ideal. Still, their brief interaction with Puck at the bar proved civil was possible. Hell, Quinn would even call it pleasant. Perhaps that was the liquor talking because she was still stuck on surreal with the son reveal, and figured that wasn't changing anytime soon. Still, it was manageable. Especially with Kiran. "We can take a lap around the party, head back when it's time for you to pretend like you aren't judging the food."

#fabrayonthetrax #puckdaniels #quick rp #1x1 rp #glee rp #quinn fabray rp #noah puckerman rp #para

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heyyyharry · 5 years ago

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Chapter 15: Fright-day Night

(Halloween Special - from the Flatmate Trilogy: Two Hearts, One Home)

…in which they play treasure hunt on Halloween again.

Word count: 7.1k

Chapter 14: For Better Or Worse - Harry and Niall have a guys night, Y/N starts showing, and Layla loves her wedding dress.

What to expect in this chapter: Baby’s gender (finally) AND the biggest crossover since The Avengers!!! (Jk)

For this chapter, the Flatmate characters will meet Eddie from My Girl (Bambi’s boss). If you want to read the alternative version in which they meet Thea (Bambi in the Wattpad version), CLICK HERE

Harry used to hate the smell of the hospital.

It reminded him of germs and sickness, and that one time he nearly died in a jet ski accident. But now that he was there so often, he'd gotten used to it. He thought he might even like it, because every time he and his wife were there, they would walk out with good news.

"I think it's a girl," Harry blurted while anxiously picking lint from his sleeve, his other hand was squeezing Y/N's. They were in the hospital's waiting room, but he already had a feeling that this might be the best day of his life.

"Why do you think so, baby?" she asked with a smile.

"Mum said if you were more into salty food, you were having a boy, and if it was a girl, then you ate lots of sweet things." He chuckled and nudged her nose with his own. "I just filled your snack drawer with sweets a few days ago, and this morning when I looked at it, it was almost empty!"

"The snack drawer was your idea!"

"Yeah, because you either woke me up at 3 AM asking me to fuck you, or to go out and buy you some sweets. Now that you have your snack drawer, I will only lose sleep for sex."

"God, you're such a teenager." Laughing and shaking her head, Y/N threaded a hand through his hair and said, "guess we'll find out if you're right in half an hour."

Half an hour felt like half a century to Harry. But once it was finally their turn, he thought he might just pass out. He didn't know it was possible to get more agitated than the last time they'd been there, but when he took the same seat and watched his wife lie down on the same examining table, his insides were on fire. It didn't matter what his baby's gender was, because he loved them and his wife, anyway. Still, he was holding his breath and couldn't ignore the shakiness in his limbs.

"Congratulations," said the woman who was rolling the scanning device on Y/N's tummy. "It's a girl."

Those three words coursed through Harry's ears like Adrenaline through his veins. He tingled from his head to his toes, wanting to jump, but he was glued to the chair and his feet were as stiff as a rock.

It's a girl, said the voice in his head. I'm having a baby girl.

Y/N was saying something to him, but all he heard was white noise, while the name was bouncing inside his head. It felt as if there was an explosion in his brain, the good sort, and it took him a few seconds to come back to reality.

"That's Asteria, baby," Y/N said, tears streaming from her eyes though she was laughing.

Harry sniffled as he brought her hand to his mouth to kiss her knuckles a few times. "Hi, Ria," he said to her baby bump. "Your dad is here."

"Congratulations! You are the lucky ones who got invited to our joint bachelor/bachelorette/Halloween party!" Layla raised her glass as if she was making a toast at her wedding, when in reality, she and her friends were sitting in a small cafe. "Thank you, my dear future husband, for coming up with this brilliant idea."

"I came up with it, actually—"

"Shut up, Harry," she snapped at the poor guy and shushed everyone who dared to snicker. "Anyway, where was I? Ahhh, the party. So this year, I'm—"

"We."

"We're bringing back our favorite tradition—"

As Layla immediately corrected herself after Niall had corrected her, the Irish man smugly wiggled his eyebrows at Harry, who looked slightly offended for the opposite reaction he'd received. Meanwhile, everyone else was already yawning.

"If she wrote a whole speech about the Halloween game one month prior, imagine how long her wedding vow would be," Louis whispered and fist-bumped Liam while Trix and Y/N were trying not to laugh.

Layla, however, was so passionate about her special party that she just kept going, "our annual Halloween game is back!" she exclaimed and clasped both hands in front of her chest. "It's called 'Fright-day Night'. And Louis will be the host!"

As everyone turned to Louis, who did a tiny bow as if he'd just won an Oscar, Layla added, "in case anyone else's wondering why I didn’t pick one of you, well, y'all fucking sucked."

"I guess I'll...take that as a compliment!" Louis uttered as the corners of his mouth turned up. "We'll have a Halloween party after the game, so make sure you have your costumes ready."

"Yes!" Layla chimed in before Louis could steal her spotlight. "Niall and I will also participate in the game, so we know nothing about the clues or the prizes or where the party will take place. Louis will take care of that. Our only job is to follow his rules and have fun!" She tapped her finger on her lips as the chatter began. "I guess I'm done. Anyone wanna add something?"

Harry raised his hand. "I have something important to announce."

"Put your hand down, Harold. Nothing is more important than my—"

"We've just found out the baby gender."

"Oh my God, what?!" Layla shouted and everyone in the cafe snapped their heads to look at her. She appeared as if she'd seen gold when she turned to Y/N. "Bitch, you should've told me first!"

"Sorry, I was afraid you'd tell everyone else." Y/N smiled. "We wanted to tell you guys ourselves."

"Just tell me now, am I an uncle or an aunt?!" Niall blurted and quickly shook his head when everyone gave him questioning looks. "No, I mean—God! You know what I mean!"

Harry puffed out his chest and cleared his throat. "It's Asteria!"

"Yes!" Layla jumped out of her seat and smacked Liam on the back. "You owed me twenty."

"You made a bet on our baby girl?!"

"Yes!" She giggled despite the look on Harry's face and took the money from Liam, who seemed pretty bitter about losing. "I'm not surprised that I won though. I knew it all along that it was Asteria. I'm her Godmother after all."

"Aunt."

"Godmother. Deal with it." She gave Harry the finger and went on, "by the way, I'm calling her Teri. It's gonna be a special thing between Godmother Layla and baby Asteria, so none of you bitches is allowed to call her that."

"Did she just call dibs on our daughter?" Harry whispered to Y/N, who simply laughed and told him Layla was just kidding.

Fall went as quickly as it had arrived. There was only one more day until Halloween.

Layla had gathered the whole group at the same cafe, "so Louis could briefly give us instructions about the game," she had said. But everyone knew it was only an excuse for her to open a discussion about what everyone was going to wear so no two of them would show up in the same costume, "for the group aesthetics," she reasoned.

"Niall and I will be Gregory Peck and Audrey Hepburn in Roman Holiday," she cheerfully said, sitting with her back straight and arms crossed on the table, as if she was really princess Ann in the movie. "That means none of you losers can be Audrey Hepburn or a princess. Except for Y/N."

"Why?" Trix pouted.

"Because she's pregnant with my Goddaughter."

"Harry and I will be Flynn Rider and Rapunzel," Y/N said and Trix was smiling again.

"Ooh! The other day I was just telling Liam that you two reminded me of Flynn Rider and Rapunzel because—"

"Um, I have a question," Harry cut her off, raising his hand. "What are Jack and Gemma doing here?"

"Harry!"

"What?" He flinched as his wife swatted at his chest and everyone was laughing.

"I'm one of the bridesmaids. Why can't I be here?" Gemma gave him a shrug, arching an eyebrow.

Jack, who was sitting next to her, spoke fast, "Layla told me to come. I have no idea what's going on."

"Well, young Johnny Depp, you are invited to my bachelorette/bachelor/Halloween party because we need an even number of players to play the Halloween game."

"Or we can just not include Gemma." Harry lifted his shoulders in a half shrug and this time it was Gemma who swatted him.

Niall suddenly leaned in and whispered in his ear, "Layla is obsessed with Gemma, so if I were you, I'd shut up before I got uninvited to the wedding."

"I can't get uninvited, I'm the best man."

"Maybe we don't need a best man," Layla said, and Harry gasped, turning to Niall.

"Sorry, mate." Niall pursed his lips unapologetically. "You've chosen Y/N over me many times before."

"You're kidding."

Y/N shushed the boys and started stroking Harry's hair, knowing it'd turn him to a quiet little puppy.

Now that peace had been restored, Louis turned to Jack and Gemma. "Okay, I'm just going to explain again. Every year back in college, we would get together on Halloween for a game of treasure hunt. Each year, we took turns being the host who would come up with clues, the prizes, and the rules of the game. This time, I will be the host. The game is pretty simple. I'll divide you into two teams, and—"

"Wait, we don't get to randomly draw out our team?"

"No, Liam. Harry would cheat again so he could be with Y/N."

"I didn't cheat!"

"Yes, you did," Layla chimed in. "Liam saw you!"

"I did." Liam confirmed. "But I shipped you two so I didn't say anything."

"See? Cheater!" Layla grumbled as Harry flashed a peace sign at her, unapologetically.

"Okay guys, let me finish and you can roast Harry later," said Louis who rolled his eyes in frustration. "So where was I? Aaaah, the teams. Yes, there will be two teams, four persons each. You will find out which team you're in tomorrow night. And I will give each team different clues, the treasure this year is the Halloween party. You find the party, you win."

"Sounds simple." Y/N leaned back in her chair, hands on her belly. "Where are we going to play the game this year?"

"I don't wanna spoil the surprise," Louis told them with a mischievous smile.

"The cemetery?!"

Folding his arms, Louis chuckled at the way Layla's jaw fell open as she looked around the spooky graveyard. Rows of tombstones stood erect in silence, and in this starless misty night, the place looked like a sea of the dead. This could be the opening scene of a classic horror movie, in which a group of stupid people got murdered in a graveyard for playing a stupid Halloween game.

"If I'd known we would play in a cemetery, I would have dressed up as something else to match the aesthetic!" Layla huffed as she smoothed down her skirt.

"What's the point? You're gonna lose, anyway."

"Shut up, you stupid alien!" she glowered at Liam, who couldn't look more offended by the name.

"I am not an alien!" he objected, pointing to his hat. "I'm a space cowboy!"

"Guys, don't yell. Ria has ears now," Harry said as he hugged his wife from behind, hands on her tummy.

Appalled, Trix pointed to Y/N. "If you're Rapunzel then where's your wig?"

"It was itchy, so I took it off," Y/N explained as she tucked her hair behind her ear and looked down at her pink dress. "But you could still tell that I'm Rapunzel, right?"

"You look just like her," Jack said with a smile, and instinctively, Harry held his wife closer, not even giving her boss the second glance.

Jack was dressed as Jack Dawson, but Harry knew it was him who was the original Jack Dawson. In fact, he was Jack Dawson when he won the game with his wife. This wasn't a competition but Harry thought he'd already won.

"I'm Red Riding Hood," Trix said. "In case anyone's wondering."

"No, we're not wondering. You're literally wearing a red cloak, Trix."

"Layla, don't be mean to Trix," Louis spoke, turning all heads back to him.

"What are you supposed to be?" Liam asked.

"Alastor Mad-Eye Moody from Harry Potter," he said proudly and adjusted his fake eye. "Probably the coolest costume here."

"You wish," Layla spat, rolling her eyes. "No one could beat Audrey."

The group chatted for a bit while waiting for Gemma, who showed up last. She apologized for being late because she'd had to clean pumpkin guts from her car window. "Typical Halloween prank by the kids in the neighborhood," she said.

"Princess Leia!" Liam exclaimed, pointing to Gemma's space buns.

"Um, yeah." The older Styles chuckled. "Sorry, Layla. I got this costume before you said—"

"No, no, it's totally fine!" Layla shook her head quickly. "That iconic hairstyle totally suits you!"

"Wait, why do all the girls get to be princesses except for me?!"

"Don't worry, Trix," Harry said, pointing to her heart. "Every woman is a princess in here."

"Okay, can Princess Leia or the space cowboy shoot Flynn Rider right now?"

Harry extended his middle finger toward Layla and everyone dissolved in laughter.

Clearing his throat loudly, Louis got all eyes back on him and pulled out a little box from his leather satchel. The box contained eight pieces of paper, each folded in half, on which a player's name was written. "Take the one with your name," he said. "Okay, now open it. Those who see the word 'red' go to my left. Those with 'blue' go to my right."

Harry, Layla, Gemma, and Liam went to the left. Y/N, Niall, Jack, and Trix went to the right.

"Yay! We're on the same team!" Layla squealed as she saw Gemma, who gave the girl an awkward grin, not knowing why Layla was so obsessed with her.

"Harold!" Louis shouted, making Harry and Niall flinch. "Do not switch with Niall this time! I know what color you are!"

"What?! I wasn't gonna do anything!"

"Then step away from the Irish boy!"

Groaning, Harry shoved both hands in his pockets and took a few steps back, frowning at Y/N and Jack on the opposite side. Louis then handed each team another piece of paper. "This is your first clue. It will take you to the next place where the second clue is hidden. Get your cars ready and I'll see you at the party."

As soon as Louis wished them good luck and walked away, Y/N opened her team's first clue and read the riddle aloud to the other members. "There's a man with a crooked smile, his round face is scarred with a knife."

It only took her two seconds to snap her head up to look at Jack. "Jack-o'-lantern!" they said at the same time.

"That one's easy! Let's go find one."

Niall grabbed the hood of Trix's cloak before she could run off without them. "Hold your horses, Red. Every house has one of those, it's Halloween."

Jack nodded to agree. "Maybe it's not an actual Jack-o'-lantern. Louis did say'a place', didn't he?"

"Right!" Y/N exclaimed as she tugged at his sleeve. "There's a small Halloween night market for tourists called Spooky Pumpkins. It's only a five-minute drive from here."

"Great! Let's go!" Trix said as she skipped ahead, and the others quickly followed.

"They're leaving!" Layla whined, stomping her feet like an angry little girl, but nobody on her team paid attention to her.

"Help us think and we'll be able to catch up with them!" said Liam while Harry and Gemma were still analyzing the riddle.

"It's Halloween, we're all afraid. Take your time, but don't be late," Gemma read it aloud once again as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

"What the hell does it mean?"

Harry shushed Liam immediately and turned to his sister. "Gem?"

"Take your time," Gemma mumbled as she scrunched up her face. "Take your time, but don't be late. Take your time...don't be—"

"A clock!" Harry snapped his fingers. "This must refer to a clock."

"How are we gonna find a clock in a cemetery, genius?"

"Not here, genius." He glowered at Liam. "Louis said this clue would take us to another place."

"So...clock...Big Ben?" Layla asked.

"No, too far from here." Gemma shook her head. "It has to be somewhere near because it's only the first clue. We have to think smaller."

"There's a vintage clock shop near here. It only takes five minutes to drive there," Liam said and the others all agreed with him.

"Come on, let's go!"

As Harry motioned everyone to follow him and walked ahead of the group, Gemma gave Layla a nudge. "This is about Jack, right?"

"Yup." Layla nodded. "He becomes a dictator when he's jealous. But hey, we can always kill him after we've won."

"I heard that!"

Laughing, she shouted back at Harry, "I wanted you to!"

Y/N hated night markets.

She hated being surrounded by too many strangers. She hated it when someone bumped into her or stepped on her feet and didn't apologize. She hated the distinct voices and laughter as they gave her anxiety and a headache. Being at a night market on its busiest night was a Halloween nightmare coming true. It wasn't really a phobia for Y/N, but it was close, and so she didn't want to be obvious about how uncomfortable she was. She had scared Jack enough when they were stuck in a lift last year. Unfortunately, it wasn't hard to tell that something was bothering her as she was walking so close to his side, basically attached to him.

"You alright?"

"Yeah." She looked up to give him a reassuring grin and changed the subject, "don't you have other plans on Halloween night?"

"I don't even have plans on regular nights."

His answer made her snort. "I mean, working plans. I know you don't hang like the rest of us."

"You said it like it's a bad thing." He chuckled, shaking his head. "But I'm hanging with the rest of you now, aren't I?"

"Yeah, why is that, I wonder?"

"I have a soft spot for you, not gonna lie," Jack answered without thinking, and when he noticed the look on her face, he laughed it off and added, "you're like a little sister to me. That's what I meant."

"Oh? Should I take that as a compliment?" She smiled, and he gave her a shrug.

"Many people would kill to be considered my sister. You're lucky."

Y/N let out a slight laugh as she playfully pushed his shoulder. Before either of them could say anything else, Niall jumped out from nowhere and walked right in the middle. "So..." He threw an arm over Y/N's shoulders, grinning. "What were you talking about?"

Y/N was trying her best not to laugh. "Harry tell you to—"

"Guys?" Trix's voice cut her off. All three of them paused and turned around to find Trix panting as she finally kept up with them. "Shouldn't we stop and look for clues? Why do we keep on walking?"

"We are looking for clues," Y/N said. "We need to find a pumpkin-carving knife."

"Oh, that's very specific."

She immediately shot Niall a glare. "If I want sarcasm, I would rather have Harry on this team."

"Yeah. I miss that sarcastic asshole." Niall sighed.

"Hey, where is Trix?"

Jack's question got both of them to turn their heads, but Trix wasn't there anymore. It was like she had vanished into thin air.

"Trix? Where are you?!"

"Calm down, Y/N. She's probably—"

"Trix?!" Y/N ignored Jack and called louder.

"I'm here, Y/N!"

"Trix!" Y/N let go of a harsh breath and dashed toward the girl. "Where were you going?! Stay close to us, okay?"

"Look what I've found!"

Everyone jumped back when Trix pointed a knife at them.

"Woah! Be careful with that!" Niall hissed, making the girl giggle.

"Chill. I'm not gonna stab you! I'm not Layla! Look!"

Y/N was the one who stepped forward and took the knife from Trix. She peered at the shiny blade to read the tiny words written in permanent ink.

"The paper monsters under your bed, come from the lands inside your head."

Niall's eyes brightened as Y/N handed him the knife. "Our second clue!"

"Well done, Trix!" Jack said, giving Trix the thumbs up. The girl was so proud of her achievement that she couldn't stop bouncing up and down.

"I was just following the guy in the pumpkin mask with the Harry Potter scar and I asked him about the second clue."

"Okay, that was smart. Louis was dressed up as a character from Harry Potter, so it must've been a hint. But it was also dangerous to follow a guy in a mask," Y/N said as she held onto Trix's shoulder. "Do not follow guys in masks, okay? Not when it's night and you're alone. And definitely not on Halloween."

"Oh, okay." Trix batted her eyelashes and gave her an innocent smile.

"Guys, our second clue?" Niall spoke as he waved the knife to get the others' attention. "Any idea what it's trying to say?"

"Should we look under a bed?"

"I don't think 'bed' is our keyword, Trix," said Jack as he took the knife from Niall and reread the riddle a few more times. "Hmm, paper monsters from the lands inside your head..."

"How did Lou come up with these clues!" Y/N cried out, making Niall cackle.

"The dude literally makes a living from designing computer games so..."

"I used to have monsters under my bed," Trix suddenly spoke. "My mother had to read me Alice in Wonderland every night to chase the monsters away."

"Wait, that's it!" Jack's whole face lit up. "Books! We need to find the closest bookstore."

"Paper monsters from the lands inside your head!" Y/N gasped. "Why didn't I think of that? This must refer to horror fiction."

"Yup, horror or fantasy," Jack said with a small smile. "What's the closest bookstore here?"

"I know one! Let's go!" Y/N gestured with a thumb, and the rest hurriedly followed her.

Harry blew out his cheeks as he read the text from Niall and put his phone away. "They've solved their second clue," he told the others.

"Have you been texting with the enemy?" Layla, who was in the backseat with Liam, grumbled at him.

"It's just Niall."

"My husband and your wife are our enemies now. Stop communicating with them."

"Guys, we're here," Gemma announced as she parked the car on the side of the road, in front of their first stop.

The clock shop was so small it blended right in with the rest of the street, probably the reason Harry had driven by it plenty of times yet he had never once noticed it before. He was the first to enter, and the rest followed him in a line because the door wasn't big enough for them to walk through at once.

The place had that spooky charm, it was dull and quiet, no other sound but the chaotic ticking of the clocks. It was exactly how Harry imagined inside a madhouse would sound like.

"Hi, may I help you?" an old lady greeted them at the entrance. In this terrible lightning of the place, her teeth looked yellow and crooked and her face was as pale as a corpse. Layla and Liam were quick to hide behind the Styles and let them do all the talking.

"Hi ma'am..." Harry stepped up to shake her hand. "This may sound stupid but...we're playing this game and we have to solve riddles to—"

"Are you friends with the short skinny boy Lewis?"

"Louis."

"Yes." The lady smiled and adjusted her small glasses. "I love that boy, he comes over to keep me company whenever he's free. Who knew his friends were also such beautiful people. You, young man, look just like a prince."

"Thanks, ma'am." Harry chuckled nervously as she pinched his cheeks. "D-do you mind if we...um...look around?"

"Not at all, dear. Go ahead," said the old lady.

The four of them split to search for their next clues. They checked every corner of the store, and the lady let them do whatever they wanted and take as much time as they needed. When Layla found the piece of paper attached to one of the clocks, the old woman had already fallen asleep in her rocking chair.

"The witch has got a brand new nose, look where she would keep her clothes."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "A witch? Does any of you happen to know a witch?"

"Or someone with a brand new nose," Liam chuckled.

"And a lot of clothes..." Gemma said.

And all three of them turned to look at Layla, whose mouth fell open. "What?! I'm not the witch!"

Liam immediately took a step back to keep a safe distance from Layla before he said, "you got a nose job last year and you'd rather die than be seen wearing the same dress twice. So, yeah..."

"Do you guys call me a witch when I'm not around?"

"Yes."

Layla shot Harry a death glare and his mouth immediately snapped shut.

"Do you live near here?" Gemma asked, and Layla shook her head. "Then it can't be Layla. We don't have much time until midnight so these places must be close to each other."

"Layla's shop is just two blocks away," Harry said as he rolled up his sleeves. "I don't think the clue refers to her closet, because Louis couldn't have broken into her house and hidden stuff in her closet, right? It must be her clothing shop."

"Fuck!" Layla suddenly raised her voice and had to double-check if she'd woken up the lady. Turning back to them, she whispered, "yesterday he told me he was there to buy clothes for his sisters! That sneaky son of a bitch!"

"Okay, that's it! That's our next clue!" Harry said as he checked the time on one of the clocks. "Let's go! If we don't hurry up, Jack will win!"

"Did he say 'Jack' instead of 'they'?" Liam asked, watching Harry bolt to the entrance without waiting for anyone.

"Yup, get used to it," Gemma and Layla said at the same time.

Y/N had been to this bookstore twice with Harry. It wasn't so far from where they used to live back in college. Coming here tonight, she was expecting to see the old lady who always gave her discounts because she adored Y/N and Harry's relationship, but sadly, the lady wasn't there anymore. Instead, they met a young man who looked like he could still be a student.

"Sorry, we're closed," he said, about to turn off the last light when Jack stepped in anyway.

"It says 'open until midnight'." Jack pointed to the chalkboard by the entrance, but the employee gave him a shrug.

"Well, I've got only two employees, very lazy ones, and they didn't even bother to show up tonight."

"Wait, you're the owner of the store?" Trix asked.

"Why's it a surprise?"

"You look like a teenager..."

"Trix," Y/N warned her friend before turning back to the angry man, looking at his name tag. "Eddie, can we just look around for a minute? Um...it's kind of important. Please?"

Eddie seemed reluctant as he eyed them up and eventually drew in a long breath. "Fine. Only because you're polite."

Y/N happily thanked Eddie and followed him into the store. As he turned all the lights back on, Jack and Y/N hurried to the fantasy section while Niall and Trix went to the horror section. Dust collected everywhere as far as they could see. Jack and Y/N had to cover their noses and mouths as they looked through the dirtied shelves and stands.

"How can you work in a place like this?" Y/N asked, glancing at Eddie, who was watching them with his arms dangling at his sides.

"Well, I don't have a choice. It's family business." He hung his head and mumbled, "if only I'd stayed in college..."

"There's a book called 'I have sex with an alien'?" Jack said, making Y/N laugh as she took it and checked the front and back cover.

"I think one of my two employees hid it at the back so no one could see and buy it," Eddie said as he rolled his eyes. "Anyway, do whatever you want, I need to make a phone call."

When he was gone, Jack immediately turned to Y/N. "I would really love to meet those girls," he whispered, and Y/N nodded.

"Me too."

"Hey, guys!"

"Jesus, Niall!" Y/N smacked Niall with the book, causing him to jump away. "Stop doing that!"

"Sorry!" Niall rubbed the sore spot on his arms, his face contorted. "I just wanted to say Trix and I found the clue."

"Where?!"

Trix showed up, holding a book and an iPhone 5. "We found these on the top shelf."

"The Haunting Of Hill House," Y/N read the title before looking up and beaming at her friends. "Good job, guys! We're so gonna win!"

"Well, what's on the phone?" Jack asked, and Niall gave him a half shrug.

"Don't know. It requires a passcode to unlock."

"Wait, there's a bookmark." Y/N ranked her fingers through her hair, tucked it behind her ear and then opened the book to where it was marked. On the page was a highlighted sentence that said, 'Journey ends in lovers meeting.'

"That's Shakespeare," Jack pointed out.

"Maybe Shakespeare is the passcode."

"No, it's numbers, Trix." Niall exhaled as he rubbed his chin. "Try Shakespeare's birthday or death day."

Y/N was about to pull out her phone to go on Google, but Jack already entered those numbers.

"No, it's not it," he said, shaking his head and looked up to find the other three gawking at him.

"You know Shakespeare's birthday and death day?" Y/N questioned with her eyes wide.

With a cheeky grin, he smirked. "Well, don't you?"

"Please marry me," Trix blurted, and Jack's startled reaction to her 'proposal' sent both Y/N and Niall into hysterics.

Meanwhile, the other team had just found their third clue in one of the coats in Layla's store.

"Well done, Liam!" Gemma said as she unfolded the piece of paper and read the riddle aloud, "There's a princess in disguise. To find your next clue, just follow the light."

"A princess in disguise?" Gemma raised an eyebrow at Layla. "That's you, right? Princess Anne was in disguise so she could walk around Rome freely."

"It can't be Layla twice. The host is Louis, not Niall," Harry commented, making Layla roll her eyes.

"If Niall was the host, I'd be the princess and Louis would be the witch," she grumbled with her arms crossed over her chest. "Well? If the princess in disguise isn't me then who?"

"Who else could be the princess?"

"Gemma."

"A princess but not in disguise," Gemma corrected Liam.

"Princess Leia was disguised as Boush once."

"I'm not wearing a Boush costume, aren't I?"

As the two continued to argue over Star Wars facts, Harry was still mumbling to riddle and trying to solve it on his own. "Follow the light..." He pinched his bottom lip, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "The light...I see the light...and at last, I see the light! Yes!"

Everyone looked at him as he punched the air. "Tangled! It's Tangled! The princess is Rapunzel!"

"Y/N?!" Gemma smacked her forehead.

"Yes!" Harry exclaimed, his eyes sparkled with joy. "My wife is the motherfucking princess in disguise. She is our clue!"

"But she's on the other team," Liam said, shaking his head.

Layla thought for a moment before she raised a finger. "Maybe Louis wants us to meet."

"Yes! We have to go now! Let's go!" Harry was about to run toward the entrance when Gemma grabbed him by the arm, pulling him back to them. "Not so fast, Eugene. We don't know where she is."

"Oh, shit! You're right!" he said and pulled out his phone. "I'll text her."

Gemma gave him a nod to approve. "But don't tell her she's the next clue. Not until we get there."

"Harry just asked me where we are."

"Why are you texting with the enemy?" Niall asked when she showed them the message. Jack, on the other hand, straightened at once.

"Journey ends in lovers meeting." He stared at Y/N intensely. "That's it. You're supposed to meet Harry again and Niall is supposed to meet Layla. That's how this game ends. We're supposed to meet the other team."

"Maybe Harry got a similar clue and he knows we have to meet," Niall said.

Trix gave a slight shrug. "Or he just misses her."

"No, Harry's very competitive," Y/N said, shaking her head. "Jack's right. He wants something from us. Should I let him know we're here?"

"Do it," Jack said and stepped closer to watch her type down the message. "But don't let him know anything about our clue. Wait until they get here."

"When did this place become the tourist attraction?!" Eddie cried out as he watched another group barge into his bookstore.

Harry walked straight toward his wife and gave her a hug. And when Eddie saw him, his eyes went wide. "Hey, has anyone told you that you look like—"

"We don't have time for meet and greet!" Niall interrupted the man and pulled Harry and Y/N apart, pointing a finger to his best friend's face. "No touching until you tell us why you're here."

"He's right. Show us your clue."

"Wow, so this is how it's gonna be, huh?" Harry chuckled as his wife extended her hand toward him, palm up.

"We're still playing the game. Hand me your clue," she demanded.

Harry shoved his hand into his pocket, but Layla stopped him right away, pulling him to the side by his elbow. "Show me yours first," she said, her nose stuck up.

"Guys, I don't know what this is about, but you have one hour until midnight," said Eddie, who patiently checked his watch and blew out his cheeks.

Given no other choice, Y/N pulled out the phone. "We found a phone which requires a passcode. And the clue is a Shakespeare's quote: 'Journey ends in lovers meeting.'"

"Can I have it?" Harry asked and Y/N handed him the device. Everyone went silent as they waited for him to enter the passcode.

"It worked!" He cheered, raising a fist. "I'm in!"

"It worked?!" Layla slapped a hand over her mouth as Niall jumped in joy.

"Holy shit! What?! What's the passcode?"

"Y/N's birthday." Harry grinned at his wife. "Our clue was a princess in disguise and it told us to follow the light."

"Ha. I see the light. Classic." Y/N giggled and pulled Harry's head down to kiss him on the cheek. "My husband is so smart."

"Skip the sentimental bits. We don't have much time left." Layla smacked Harry on the arm, causing him to hiss and jump away. Stealing stole the phone from her brother, Gemma quickly went through the few apps on the home screen.

"Okay. The photo roll is empty. Messages. Empty. Notes. Empty."

"Try recording," Layla spoke, and Gemma tapped on the recording app.

"There's one recording!"

"Yes, wife!" Niall wrapped his arms around Layla and gave her a kiss on the forehead. "You're the best!"

"Is this the 'I love my wife' club now? Can the rest of us leave?" Liam joked, making everyone laugh as Layla shot him a death glare.

Gemma immediately shushed them all so she could play the recording. The first few seconds were nothing but silence, but then they heard Louis' voice. He said, "you're almost there, just look for white. Enter the room and claim your prize."

And it ended.

"That was it?" Layla scoffed as she exchanged looks with Y/N. "Look for white?!"

"Yes, that's the keyword," Gemma breathed. "White. What does the color white remind you of?"

"Snow?"

"It's Halloween, not Christmas, Liam!"

"You haven't watched The Nightmare Before Christmas, haven't ya?" Eddie spoke and Layla yelled at him to stay out of this.

While everyone was arguing with each other, Y/N subtly pulled Niall aside and whispered to him, "go get your car and wait for us outside."

Though confused, Niall trusted Y/N, so he didn't question her and just snuck out when nobody wasn't looking.

"White, hmm..." Layla trailed off as she shuffled her feet, one arm folded, the other rubbing her chin. "Treasure?"

"Treasure?" Harry chortled. "Our cat?"

"Yup."

Liam and Trix snickered at her answer, but Gemma and Jack were poker-faced.

"No, Layla's got a point," Jack said. "Louis did say the treasure is the party."

"Shit!" Harry cried out, holding his head. "Treasure is with Nam and Nam told me he'd taken tonight off to be with Ben. Treasure is at Ben's place! That's where the party is!"

Gemma groaned as she stomped her foot. "Why didn't I think of that? He gave us the final clue right from the beginning!"

Harry's team hadn't had time to react to the big discovery when his wife and her team shot right through the door. Niall's car was waiting outside, and they drove away in a matter of seconds. It took the others a moment to realize what was happening and all of them dashed off, not accepting defeat.

As the door fell shut in front of his eyes, Eddie was frozen, completely flabbergasted. He needed a minute to process everything and quickly pulled out his phone to make a call.

"Mum? Can you pick me up? I think I just met a cult."

"If we lose because we couldn't find a parking spot, I'd be so pissed," Layla panted as she chased after the others into the building right when Y/N's team was heading toward the lift. The two sides only shared one hostile look as the door opened, and the old lady in the lift was horrified when they all ran toward her. Harry was much faster. He almost got there when he heard Niall shouted, "stop! You're hurting Y/N!" which stopped him immediately.

"Which one of you fucking pushed her—"

"Sucker!" Niall pushed Harry aside, took Y/N's hand and pulled her into the lift with Jack and Trix. It took Harry nearly a second to realize he'd been fooled, but by the time he and the others got to the lift, it had gone to the next floor.

"We can just press the emergency button to stop it!" Liam said, looking frantically from left to right. "Is there one out here?!"

"Don't be fucking crazy. Y/N is afraid of small spaces!" Harry glowered at Liam as he crossed his arms and took a deep breath.

"Now what?" Gemma asked.

"Well, now we...wait for the lift."

"Niall James Horan!" was the first thing Layla shouted when she burst through the door into Ben's flat. She stormed right past the party guests who were clapping for her and grabbed Niall by the arm. "I'm gonna fucking kill you!"

All eyes followed Niall as he was dragged away, until Louis got up on a table and screamed, "party!" And everyone was cheering again.

"Let's hope they won't break up before the wedding," Trix said, but Liam only laughed.

"The only thing that they'll break tonight is a bed."

"Ew, gross!" Gemma cringed, pushing him away.

"Hey, there's a bar!" Jack exclaimed, making Gemma squeal in elation.

"Wanna get a drink?" she asked.

"Yes, please." He tossed his head back and sighed in relief.

The music was earsplittingly loud. Neon lights flashed everywhere like police sirens, but much more colorful. Harry guessed Ben wasn't kidding when he said he'd go all out with parties. Pushing his way through a room full of people, Harry finally got to where his wife was sitting with Ben and Nam on the couch. Treasure was lying on her lap. The cat was wearing a party hat that said 'I am the Treasure.'

"Punny." Harry chuckled, shaking his head.

When Y/N looked up and saw him, she was overjoyed. She handed the cat to Ben and got to her feet to give him a passionate kiss.

"I'm sorry you lost, baby," she said, nudging his nose with her own as she held his face.

He secured his arms around her waist, smiling against her lips. "Liar, you're not sorry."

"No, I'm so not," she admitted, kissing him. Again, and again, and again...

It was an exciting night, a great party, but it was over too soon for the married couple. They had decided to leave early because they feared loud music would affect their baby girl. The others were way too tipsy to see them sneak out, anyway. Layla and Niall were dancing on the table, apparently enjoying their last night before being married. Liam and Louis were hitting on some girls while Gemma and Jack were karaoke-ing with Nam and Ben. What a beautiful ending for the longest night ever, Harry thought.

"I can't believe the prize was 'friendship'! The only thing this game did was tear us apart!" Harry grumbled as he carried the cat to the lift and pressed the down button. "Baby?"

Turning back, he found Y/N standing still and staring at the door to their old flat. "I miss it, H," she said, smiling at him.

"Yeah, so do I..." He walked over to where she stood, sucking in a breath. "It's been so long."

"I wonder who lives here now."

"Wanna find out?"

"Wait!" She grabbed his wrist before he could ring the doorbell. "We could just ask Ben!"

"What's the fun in that?" Harry said and pressed the doorbell, anyway.

"What the hell, Harry?! We don't know them!"

"Relax, babe. We can just say we got the wrong flat number."

Harry had just finished the sentence, and the door creaked open. The first thing they saw was a face as white as a sheet. They both screamed, causing 'the face' to scream, and the two of them screamed again as they sprinted to the lift the second it arrived.

Breath busting in and out, the woman peeled off her sheet mask and cursed at the crazy couple now that they were gone.

"Aunt Lynn? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. It was just some Halloween pranksters," she said to the person on the phone. "Anyway, tell your boyfriend I said hi."

*Ending explanation for those who don’t read My Girl*: The woman who’s living in the flatmate babies’ old flat is also a character from My Girl - The MC’s aunt. :)

#flatmate!harry

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fericita-s · 5 years ago

Text

Vanished (part 4)

Part 4 is the conclusion of this Agduna amnesia AU; you can find Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 with those links or all of it on AO3.

Thank you for reading, and thank you @the-spastic-fantastic for enabling and beta-ing and making this gorgeous moodboard and making sure the soldiers had the appropriate ranks!

A day later it was Christmas Eve. Mrs. Calder and Iduna lit candles in the window of the Sommerhus while Elias, Captain Calder, and Agnarr took turns going outside, knocking on the door, and singing carols when Elsa opened it. Thea joined the singing in between bites of kringla and butter cookies from where she was ensconced by the fire. Elsa had another round of presents to open, including a new doll made by Linnea.

“Your dolls are sisters! Like you might have one day. I only ever had a brother.” She sighed dramatically and Elias put her in a headlock, rubbing her perfect curls with his gloved hand.

“I’m a delight and you know it!”

She laughed and squirmed out of his grasp. “See? See what brothers do?”

***

Iduna stretched and yawned, then again fit herself against Agnarr, her back against his front. He moved his hand up and down her arm lazily.

“Shall I tell you a bedtime story?”

“Hmmm?” Her eyes were already halfway closed, but she opened them at the sound of his voice as it rumbled through her chest. It had been a wonderful day, a frenzied flurry of activity and happiness and she felt settled in a way she hadn’t since waking up in the Calder’s house without a memory. This is what it was to have a family – grandparents and aunts and uncles all celebrating together.

Agnarr moved his hand higher and tucked some of her hair behind her ear. “I’ll tell you a story. To make up for not bringing a letter with new memories.”

Iduna turned herself over so they were facing each other and smiled at him. “I’d love to hear a story. Maybe one about my brothers? Ruben, Duvka, and Lemek.” She recited the names, still unfamiliar on her tongue. “Can you tell me more about what they’re like?”

She slipped her hands between her cheek and the pillow and put her feet under his for warmth.

“I didn’t know them very well. They’re older than us and have their own families. And you usually tried to keep us away from them when I was visiting. But I did see each of your brothers propose. Do you remember the ritual I wrote down for you?” He sat up to reach for the quilt and pulled it over both of them, tucking it around Iduna and kissing her on the cheek as he did so.

“Yes, but I could hardly believe it! Did they do it, truly?”

“They did! One after the other, three summers in a row. Duvka got the most butterflies, but Lemek had the most reindeer. And Ruben’s bride said yes before he even started.” Agnarr laughed. “He was so relieved. He definitely looked the most nervous of the lot.”

Iduna smiled at the story, searching for the memory but falling up short. “Did you propose to me that way? Or is handfasting so different?”

Agnarr shook his head. “I didn’t. I asked your father, Ledjo, first, which is a tradition here in Arendelle. He might have preferred the reindeer. Lemek for sure would have. He said I didn’t have a lot to offer you and might endanger you.” He reached to run his hand from her cheekbone to the back of her head. “I’m afraid he was right.”

Iduna moved a hand to hold Agnarr’s. “He must not have thought so. If he approved. My father I mean.” Saying father gave her a sensation of longing and love so fierce that her eyes brimmed with tears and she blinked them away.

“He did approve. He hoped I was the future of Arendelle and that if we were wed and it was recognized, there would be peace.” He used his thumb to gently wipe the tears from the corner of her eyes, giving her a tender smile. “I was relieved he gave permission, but I thought he was overreacting about my father’s plans for war.” She could see his eyes tighten with the remembrance. “But he was right.”

“And my parents – did they like you? Not just that you would be King?”

Agnarr smiled. “I think so. I certainly liked them.” He laughed, remembering. “I called your parents “Mother” and “Father” from the age of fourteen on because at the time my understanding of your language was so rudimentary, I didn’t know the difference between their given names – Ledjo and Solja – and endearments, titles, or family names.”

Iduna laughed, catching herself before she became too loud. Settling Elsa to sleep had been hard after the excitements of the day and she was not eager to leave the warmth of the bed. She continued in a whisper. “Did I never correct you?”

He was still smiling. “No, and I didn’t learn it until I asked your father if we could handfast, and his answer was ‘You’ve been calling me ‘Father’ for years now, it seems only right.’ Lemek rolled his eyes and told him that just proved I was stupid, but your mother shushed him up.”

Iduna sighed, setting the scene in her mind of an overprotective brother and a kind mother and a welcoming father and Agnarr, ruddy with nerves and the desire to wed her.

“Do you think I’ll ever see them again? Do you think the mist will ever open again?”

He was silent for a moment before answering. “I hope so. But I don’t know.”

She turned herself over so she could once again lie flush against him and he put his hand around her waist, firm and solid. She listed the names of her brothers and parents in her head, adding in the new stories Agnarr told so that those details wouldn’t vanish in the mist like her memories. Like her people.

“Would you like to go see the mist? The stones? It’s not far from here. Perhaps an hour’s ride.”

She closed her eyes. “Yes. I want to see it.”

Agnarr fell asleep quickly but Iduna lay awake, his arms anchoring her to the present as the thought of mist surrounding and strangling her pulled at her. What she had thought were nightmares of saltwater and the cannon fire of pirates she now knew to be the spirits of water and fire as they reigned in battle. In her imagining, the indistinct figures of her brothers and parents were on the other side of the mist, barely visible but for the volley of fire and driving rain that they shielded themselves from, never quite safe, but not defeated either.

***

The Calders left after the New Year’s feast for their own homes and Agnarr helped Iduna pack for her and Elsa’s return to the castle. But before heading south, they travelled an hour north to the border outpost to look at the mist.

Agnarr helped Iduna out of the carriage when they arrived and then lifted Elsa out as well. The three of them joined hands and walked towards what looked to be a wall made of clouds. It was different than she had imagined – there was no smell of smoke and the clouds were stationary. It didn’t have the appearance of clouds in the sky that moved with the wind - these looked imposing and solid. The stones that Agnarr has spoken of were not visible. They too had vanished into the dense mist.

An Arendellian soldier greeted them when they walked closer, bowing and stammering “Welcome, Your Majesties.”

“Thank you, Corporal.”

“Is – is there anything I can help you with?” The soldier was brushing at his coat, and Iduna thought he must be worried about an unannounced visit from the royal family. Especially on New Year’s Day, when there was likely to have been some sort of a celebration among the few sentries posted in this lonely place. She smiled as she answered him, trying to put him at ease.

“No thank you, we just wanted to pay our respects to those still missing as we begin our year. Happy New Year to you.”

“Happy New Year to you, Your Majesty”

Agnarr reached out to shake the soldier’s hand. “Has there been any change? Any sign of movement on the other side?”

“No, Your Majesty, and still no entry that we can find. We’ve walked the perimeter a time or two and we touch it once a week or so to probe for weaknesses, but that’s a sure way to get a nasty jolt. I wouldn’t recommend it.”

Iduna looked at the mist as Agnarr and the soldier continued talking. As the other soldiers came out of their small cabin to greet the royal family, she left Elsa and Agnarr with them and walked closer to the mist. She had hoped it would be calling to her in some way, pulling at her or tugging at memories or physically compelling her to do something. But she felt nothing more than a sense of curiosity.

When she was a step away from the wall of clouds, she looked behind her to see the soldiers and Agnarr all following Elsa as she toddled back to the carriage. Iduna took a breath and reached for the mist, tensing and closing her eyes and then opening them with a start when an invisible force pushed firmly back against her outstretched palm. She turned and looked to see if anyone had been watching, but they were gathered around Elsa as she showed them the dolls she had been sitting with in the carriage. Iduna hurried back to join them before she was missed.

***

They sat in silence for a long time after leaving the border, so silent that Elsa fell asleep, her head sliding down onto Iduna’s lap. When Iduna was certain that her deep even breaths meant that she wouldn’t be disturbed from her slumber, she confessed to Agnarr that she had touched the mist.

“Did anything happen?”

“No.”

They sat in silence for a few more minutes and then Agnarr asked “Did you want something to happen?”

She looked at him and shook her head. “I don’t know.” A mirthless laugh escaped from her and she hated how bitter it sounded. “What would the Iduna you knew in the forest have wanted? And what would she have done? To be so close to her homeland and unable to get to it?”

Agnarr looked at her and she saw his confusion in the pleading and kind eyes that she loved so well. “I don’t understand.”

Iduna shook her head, frustrated. “Sometimes I think I’ll never know who I really am until the mist comes down. Until I can meet my family and see my homeland. And what if it doesn’t? What if I never know who I was? Your letters and stories are wonderful, but so much is missing.”

Agnarr reached for her hand and clutched it tightly. “You told me once that knowing what was lost was better than not knowing. Do you still think so?”

“Yes.” She sighed. “Yes, but it hurts.” She tried to swallow and was surprised to find that it was difficult. Her throat suddenly felt thick. “It hurts to miss them, but I’m glad I had them.”

Agnarr kissed her on the temple and then rested his forehead on hers. “I hope one day we’ll have them again.”

***

Iduna and Agnarr slept entwined in one another’s arms and when Iduna woke, choking at the feel of mist in her throat, Agnarr hugged her tightly and gently murmured in her ear until she calmed down. “You’re safe, you’re safe, you’re safe, you’re safe.” Even after she was asleep he found himself chanting it, wishing he could make it a royal command, a decree that all would honor.

***

Elsa smiled and hugged her mother when Iduna told her there would be a baby in their family in the summer. Linnea squealed and declared “I knew those dolls were the perfect gift!” Thea, nursing her infant daughter to her chest and dark circles under her eyes exclaimed “People do this more than once?”

As the child inside Iduna grew, reports from the border said that the mist had begun to thin, the stones were now visible and the spirit symbols on them were occasionally glowing. Agnarr ordered the soldiers posted nearby to discard their military clothing while on watch so as not to incite fear and war if the mist disappeared completely. They were instead supplied with aid and the signed notice of peaceful intent, written in two languages.

Rather than being fearful that the mist was diminishing, the citizens of Arendelle seemed curious. Agnarr arranged for a rotating roster of council members to teach those who were interested about the Northuldra in the Byrett. When Lord Hannesel interrupted one of these lectures, to shout that Northudra were savages not to be trusted, he was roundly booed and swiftly removed by the soldiers in attendance, come to describe what they could see at the border.

Iduna wanted to travel to the mist, but knew it would be best to wait until after the baby was born. It was exhausting just getting through the day while heavily pregnant. Though she hadn’t felt sick this time, the baby was much more active and it was hard to sleep at night.

Agnarr, however, had suggestions for how they could spend their evenings, and didn’t seem to mind that it was interrupting his sleep. When she woke in the night with leg cramps he would knead at her muscles, then continue the firm pressure of his fingers up to her thighs and to the places that made her sigh in want and pleasure. He kissed the round swell of her breasts and middle and she stretched her arms above her head, a pose of relaxation and satisfaction.

When the fjord became muggy with summer heat, they traveled to the Sommerhus with a Midwife Reidun. In the quiet empty fields behind the cottage, Elsa would make cool gusts of snow blow across her mother’s bare feet. At night Agnarr played the violin and taught Elsa how to play on her own small version of one, tucking it under her chin and plucking at the strings.

The labor when it happened was painful but quick, and before Agnarr and Elsa had finished greeting every animal in the barn by name, Reidun had come out to bring them back in the house to meet the new baby.

Riders from the north came to the house an hour later.

“The mist! It’s disappearing! We can see soldiers on the other side – we think they’re ours. And if the count is right, there’s only one unaccounted for among the missing.”

Iduna urged Agnarr to go but he wouldn’t leave her so soon after the birth. In the following hours, riders rotated through the house with reports and Agnarr sent back messages with instructions on how to greet the Northuldra as allies.

Iduna had just begun to fall asleep, Agnarr holding the sleeping baby against his chest, when a soldier burst into the house. They could hear her excited exchange with the guard downstairs.

“They’ve come through! Our soldiers have come through! They say it wasn’t the Northuldra who attacked, it was King Runeard. He and General Sorensen are dead but the rest are alive!”

Iduna was instantly awake. “Does that mean the mist is gone?”

“I’ll find out.” He handed the baby to Iduna and ran downstairs. As she tried to nurse, she listened to the excited voices and felt her heart thrill at the thought of her homeland, open.

“The mist is almost gone, Your Majesty! It was rising slowly and vanishing into the sky! And that was happening an hour ago when I left - it could be gone by now.”

She heard someone running back up the stairs and call for help. She felt hands reach for the baby, she smelled the vomit as it came up from her throat. But mostly, she felt her head suddenly grow heavy and then unbearably painful and her own hands clutching against her ears as she screamed and screamed until everything went black.

***

Agnarr ran up the stairs, skipping the top one in his haste to tell his wife the news. The soldiers could see Northuldra on the other side, but none of them had come over to the Arendelle side. He expected to see her eager expression, hopeful and curious and bright. Instead he saw Reidun reaching for the baby as Iduna slumped over, clawing at her head, screaming in a piercing wail that sent a spike of terror into his heart.

“What’s happening? Did something happen during the birth?”

“No Your Majesty! She was fine!” The midwife pushed Iduna’s hair from her face, felt the pulse point at her throat, and continued to check her body. “She’s breathing fine - she’s not bleeding anew. I don’t know what this is!”

The soldier and guard had run up the steps and Agnarr called them in the room. “Go now to the stones. Tell the Northuldra that Iduna, Queen of Arendelle, is sick in childbed and we need their healer. Give them the peace treaty and whatever else you need in order to get their agreement. Go now!”

As the soldier turned to leave, Elsa came into the room, rubbing sleep out of her eyes. “Is Mama sleeping?”

Agnarr lifted Elsa up and hugged her against his chest, keeping his voice steady so as not to scare her with the fear in his own. “Yes dear, Mama is sleeping.”

***

Agnarr paced in the fields outside of the house, looking for a return rider. It had been almost two hours and Iduna had remained deathly still and frighteningly pale. He, on the other hand, hadn’t stopped moving. He alternated between holding her hand in the upstairs room and leaving the house to go to the crest of the hill to look for the help he had summoned. He hated this feeling of helplessness and it gave him no comfort to remember that the last time he felt this way had been the day the mist closed. For Iduna to again be unconscious, beyond his help on the day the mist opened had to mean something. Were the spirits in control of this?

He thought about sending the remaining guard to Arendelle for a physician or to the Valley of the Living Rock to seek help from the trolls, but he knew Iduna would prefer the chance to be connected with her people and their medicine. He walked back into the house and up the stairs, returning to her bedside and holding her hand and wishing he could do more. It wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough. He had made her promises of safety and he was failing.

Reidun kept her back turned, tending to the baby who still didn’t have a name.

***

When he finally saw riders on the horizon, he was so relieved that he sank to his knees in the tall grass before forcing himself up and sprinting for the road. He saw one Arendellian soldier on horseback followed by three Northuldra riders on the backs of reindeer. He squinted to be sure that the faces he thought he recognized were not just the hopeful wishes of his imagination, but as they drew closer he was certain. The first rider was Anja, a healer who had once dressed wounds on his hands when he had unknowingly picked stinging nettles in a bouquet for Iduna. The other two were her parents.

He spoke to them in Northuldra, his voice strained and breaking on the words. “Mother. Father.”

***

Anja and Reidun worked together behind a closed door while Agnarr took Ledjo and Solja to the nursery to introduce them to their granddaughters. They cradled the girls close. Elsa, who was three, made Solja laugh with her repeated exclamations about her resemblance to her mama. The baby nestled into the crook of her grandfather’s arm and Agnarr kept a close watch on her, knowing she was likely to be hungry soon.

He wanted to apologize for taking Iduna out of the forest, for not finding a way back into the mist, for the desperate state of their reunification. But he could not say those words while also keeping the fear from Elsa’s ears so he didn’t. They seemed to understand, Solja hugging him and Ledjo putting a steady hand on his shoulder as he spoke to Agnarr in the Northuldra language.

“We hoped she was with you. When we couldn’t find either of you after weeks of searching, we hoped you had taken her to safety.”

“She hit her head and we were close to the stones, I tried to come back but the wind pushed us out – “

Solja spoke. “The spirits were angered that day, but most of their show of strength was to prevent us all from killing each other. When the fire cooled and the wind stilled and the earth was no longer trembling, your troops and ours lay side by side with weapons out of reach.”

“They surrendered immediately. It was clear the soldiers were surprised and defiant of their orders.” Ledjo smiled. “In the past three years, some have married into our tribe and we were happy to accept them.”

Agnarr swallowed, looking at Elsa as he spoke, keeping his answer in their tongue so she wouldn’t hear the answer if it would hurt her. “And are you happy to accept us? For the friendship of Arendelle and for a daughter who is our queen? For two granddaughters who are of both Northuldra and Arendelle?”

Solja touched his cheek and turned his face to look at hers. She answered in the language of Arendelle, and Elsa smiled at her words. “We are happy to make peace with your people, just as you’ve hoped since you were a boy. And we are delighted to have two new granddaughters.”

***

Anja led them into the room and allowed Ledjo and Solja to each take one of Iduna’s hands. Reidun excused herself, explaining that she should go look in the village for a wet nurse in case the queen did not wake soon. Agnarr took the small baby with one hand, tucking her against his chest and holding Elsa’s hand with the other.

Anja spoke so quietly Agnarr had to strain to listen, the increasingly agitated noises of their infant gaining volume.

“Her sleep is restful but deep. There are no injuries that need treating and I don’t think the spirits would cause this to one of us on the day their punishment ceased. We just have to wait.”

“Have you been able to get her to drink anything? Some water? She is still recovering from the birth and lost blood, perhaps that will help.”

Anja gave Agnarr a nod and walked to the nearby basin. She poured water from the pitcher into a guksi she pulled from her pack and as Ledjo and Solja lifted her gently on either side, began to slowly pour the liquid down into her mouth. Elsa dropped Agnarr’s hand to move closer, standing by her mother’s side and grasping her knee. “Mama, wake up! Wake up, Mama!”

Agnarr’s eyes filled with tears and he put a comforting hand on Elsa’s head. “Come Elsa, we’ll let her sleep some more.”

He guided her to the door and as he began to turn the doorknob, the raspy sound of Iduna’s voice came floating up over the sound of her parents’ relieved exclamations. “I remember. I remember.”

***

News that the border was no longer guarded by a wall of cloud travelled quickly through the kingdom. As soldiers long missing came south, families celebrated the return of their sons and daughters from the mist, some still wearing the Arendelle uniform, some wearing Northuldra dress, and some introducing grandparents to grandchildren as the royal family had done. The resulting excitement was only matched in fervor when it was announced that the queen was rescued by the ministrations of her midwife and a Northuldra healer working together and that the queen had regained her memory and realized she was Northuldra. Her restored memory returning as the mist vanished was celebrated along with the signed peace treaty that both Arendelle and Northuldra affixed signatures to.

***

“I thought I’d lost you.”

Elsa had been put to bed long ago, but the baby was still awake for a midnight feeding. Agnarr took her from Iduna as the sounds of her suckling stopped and held her against his bare chest as he gently patted her back. Iduna lay back on the pillows. “I thought I was lost too. But now…it’s like I’m whole again.”

Agnarr sat down in the chair next to her bed and settled the baby against him again and reached over to stroke Iduna’s cheek. “Please,” he said, his voice breaking. “That’s twice now I’ve thought you were gone. Don’t leave me.”

She nodded and placed her hand on his. “I’ll never leave you.”

***

The Harvest Festival that year became the Alliance Festival and Agnarr proclaimed a week of celebration. Daily ceremonies took place in the Castle Courtyard and banners depicting the spirit symbols of the Northuldra and the crocus and wheat of Arendelle were displayed in places of honor in the Market Square and throughout the kingdom. On the balcony, the royal family oversaw cheering crowds in greater numbers than for even the Yule Bell. Citizens of both nations celebrated watching the king and queen place medals and ribbons on the soldiers who had defied orders against their code of conduct and on Reidun and Anja for their care of the queen. The bishop blessed the marriages of the Arendellians who emerged from the mist married to Northuldra, and then performed the baby naming ceremony for the newest member of the royal family: Anna Reidun, daughter of Arendelle and the Northuldra.

Agnarr and Iduna had decided not to share Elas’s ice magic with the kingdom yet, though those closest to her knew. Solja and Ledjo had not seen magic like hers before, but were delighted with it and knew stories of it among their people. They were confident she could learn to harness it, and could always find safe refuge in the forest if needed.

As Iduna held Anna close to soothe her from the cheers of the crowds, she looked at her husband, her oldest daughter, and then her brothers and their families and her parents alongside the Calders. Thea, well-rested, waved to her cheerily. She felt a rush of affection and gratefulness, steady like the castle hewn from rock beneath her, refreshing like the sparkling waters of the well of truth, sweet like the breeze off of the fjord, and blazing in her like a fire, one that would never go out or vanish from her memory.

***

Alone in their bedchamber, Agnarr and Iduna lay against each other, Agnarr running his hands through her hair. She turned and stroked his face, her thumb against his mustache.

“I think I owe you some bedtime stories.”

Agnarr looked at her, puzzled. “Oh?”

“Yes. You told me your memories, but I have yet to tell you any the way I remember them.” She was smiling and it made him smile back, even though he still wasn’t sure what she meant to do.

“Are they so different?”

She nodded, bringing her hands down to his chest. “When we first met, I noticed you before you fell in the river. I saw you helping Anja pick cloudberries and pull up boska and I followed you, wondering why the Dangerous Southerners I’d been warned about would be so helpful.”

He closed his eyes, bringing it to mind. “I remember that. We couldn’t communicate, so I just hoped when she pointed to something she wanted me to get it for her.”

“You helped her for an hour at least. And I followed you for at least that long. I already wanted to be your friend and learn who you were. I didn’t even know you were the prince. I just knew you were patient and kind.” She closed the inches of distance between them and kissed him gently. “And there’s something else I remember, from when we were older.”

He looked at her playful smile, the same one she had flashed at him when she invited him to play with the wind or climb the cliffs or agreed to become his wife in a cave by the river. “What’s that?”

She smiled again, and ran her fingers down his chest. “How about I show instead of tell for this one.”

He kissed the corner of her mouth, where her smile was a little crooked and thought about all the memories they had gained and all the memories they would make, and then focused on the memory they would make that night, safe and whole, fear vanished.

#agduna #amnesia AU #mama and papa arendelle #frozen fan fic #vanished #King Agnarr #Queen Iduna #Agnarr #iduna nobel #Northuldra #Arendelle #Elsa #Anna

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obaewankenope · 5 years ago

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Absconding with Harry verse Part 4: Bake-Offs and Bees

Here on AO3!

Summary:

“Children are the future, after all. Need the future alive and well to do—well—evil or good, depending on what department you are.”

“Exactly,” Crowley nods. “So I had to step in. Protect a potential investment.”

Fic below the cut!

The meeting of Harry and Aziraphale, from Crowley’s point of view, goes a little like this:

“Hello, uh, Harry,” Aziraphale says, nervously, standing near the sofa Crowley had miracled into existence—replacing the original that came with the building and was sort of falling apart at the seams. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Hello,” Harry replies, just as nervously, sitting on the sofa with a glass of mixed berries fruit juice that is obviously nice considering how it’s close to empty. “Do you live with Mister Crowley?”

“I—uh—well—not—not really, no,” the angel replies, stuttering and spluttering over his words—tripping over his tongue due to nerves—and Crowley eyes the angel as a slight blush rises on those pale cheeks. “But—well, I suppose that—that since he stole you and you’re here, then—well—I suppose he does now?”

Crowley was too surprised at the questioning—hopeful—glance Aziraphale threw him to actually answer at the time, but Harry had resolved that problem by nodding and saying: “that makes sense” and that had been the end of it.

Sort of.

“So, angel,” Crowley says, leaning on the back of the sofa with a glass of wine in his hand. The miracled-TV is playing some sort of streaming show—Crowley had made sure it had every channel and streaming service available on it, ensuring that it was free and the charges would end up on some annoying politician’s bill instead—provides a nice background noise that elicits a sort of homely feel to the room.

Aziraphale has, as usual, a customary mug of hot chocolate in his hands as he sits rather stiffly on the other side of the sofa. The angel seems to be quite nervous judging by the way his fingers are playing with the wings of the mug and Crowley finds the sight quite fascinating.

“You haven’t explained to me how you came to steal a child, Crowley,” Aziraphale says, cutting off whatever Crowley was about to say. “I really would like to understand what I’m now complicit in.”

Crowley tilts his head, giving the angel a Knowing Look before he answers. “Not much to explain really,” he begins, “I was heading back from another jaunt down in Surrey—priest who was a little too close to quitting when he’d bring a good couple souls to hell with his hateful language—and decided to pass by the house of the kid who speaks Parseltongue. You know I don’t get to talk to that many who know it too—” he looks at Aziraphale who nods understandingly “—and well, I peeked through the kitchen window from the garden and saw his aunt hitting him with a frying pan. So I thought, ‘that’s not on that’ and intervened. You don’t hit kids. I don’t like that. So yeah. Didn’t think it was a good idea to leave him there either, so now he’s here. That about cover it?”

“Oh, oh my,” Aziraphale breathes, shocked. He takes an automatic sip of his hot chocolate—which Crowley notices is cooling and he flicks his hand to heat it up again—as he thinks. “I understand why you took him then. Hitting a child. Absolutely ghastly.”

“Mhhmm,” Crowley agrees. “No point hitting a kid unless you’re a nasty piece of work. Even demons have limits, you know?”

“Oh yes,” Aziraphale plays along—falling into the usual routine they have over jointly-ignoring-Crowley’s-bouts-of-not-very-demony-demoning-behaviour. “Children are the future, after all. Need the future alive and well to do—well—evil or good, depending on what department you are.”

“Exactly,” Crowley nods. “So I had to step in. Protect a potential investment.”

“Of course.”

Crowley ignores the mocking humour in Aziraphale’s voice, choosing instead to be a Mature Demon and take a large mouthful of his wine rather than responding to the angel with a scowl. The silence falls between them and both angel and demon turn their attention mostly to the TV, noting the show is The Great British Bake-Off[1].

“I suppose we will have to live together,” Aziraphale says a little later on like it’s the most reasonable thing to say in between the episodes when it most certainly isn’t.

“What?” Crowley splutters, after nearly choking on his wine—it was far too good a vintage to actually choke on it so Crowley didn’t, but it was a near thing—giving the angel a genuinely surprised look. “Angel, what?”

“Well,” Aziraphale says, taking a small sip of his hot chocolate—he’s miracled it hot again so many times it might as well be called hot hot chocolate—before continuing, calm and reasonable. “It seems like the reasonable thing to do. Young Harry is going to need guidance from above and below—especially since he lives here. I can’t very well have you live here with him alone; there would be talk[2].”

“Angel,” Crowley growls and Aziraphale shushes him.

“Quiet Crowley! Harry is asleep in the next room! No raising your voice because you’re annoyed with me.” Aziraphale gives him a sharp look that, unfortunately for Crowley, works wonderfully in making him calm down so he doesn’t disturb Harry[3].

“I can’t live here, angel! It’s dangeroussss!” Crowley hisses, and he scowls more. Stupid lisp. “We’re not meant to be seen together; what if someone from our respective offices comes and checks up on us?”

And here Crowley is, actually arguing against something he honestly wants because he’s a paranoid, scaredy snake. Typical.

“We’ll have warning, we always do,” Aziraphale reasons and Crowley scoffs.

“You forget what happened in thirteen-twenty-nine then did you?” he asks, mockingly. Aziraphale scowls at him now. “Thought not. It’s too dangerous angel.”

“But,” Aziraphale says, softly, “Harry wants it.”

Crowley sighs. That—that is a very low blow from the angel. He’d think that Aziraphale Knows about him but Crowley has been ever so very careful to cultivate his image and he maintains it ruthlessly. Yes, okay, not to the point of ignoring children or people who are hurt, but he doesn’t actively endanger the illusion of a demon with No Memory Of Before like this.

Usually.

“You really are a bastard, angel,” he says, slumping down in the sofa with a defeated expression. “That was a low blow, even for you.”

Aziraphale—the smug bastard—just smiles at him. “It really was, wasn’t it?” he says, pleased because Crowley has agreed and the angel knows it.

“You are so lucky I like you,” Crowley mutters, flicking his hand at the TV. Aziraphale’s little gasp of complaint is ignored as The Great British Bake-Off becomes one of the worst horror movies ever created: The Bee movie[4].

“I’m still not sorry,” Aziraphale admits, an hour later, head tucked into Crowley’s side where he’d shoved it after ten minutes of the film.

Crowley just smiles, safe to do so since the angel can’t see it where he’s burrowed in the demon’s side. “Neither am I,” he replies.

This is their relationship in a nutshell. It’s one that Harry will appreciate more and more every day, especially the day he turns eleven and receives a letter via owl that declares him a wizard and to attend a magical school in Scotland. He does not, however, appreciate the hissing-cursing from Crowley when he reads the name of the headmaster for the school. Aziraphale is none-too-pleased either, though he does avoid cursing in front of Harry—the angel chooses instead to accidentally turn Harry��s waffles into pancakes cut in the shape of a wizard’s hat with obnoxiously brightly coloured stars and moons on it. Aziraphale refuses to explain what that is about and Harry wisely doesn’t push the issue.

That is how life for Harry James Potter—absconded by a demon from Number Four Privet Drive at the age of nine—is already wonderous before he even hears of Hogwarts.

His friends will never believe him when he tells them he has an angel and a demon for uncles. He can’t wait.

[1] Crowley tried to claim credit for the show when reports of wannabe bakers and cake makers attacking each other over their icing technique reached hell, but the positive aspects of the show resulted in him admitting that he was only responsible for the idea of the show not the execution. That he laid at Aziraphale’s feet. It’s one of the achievements that heaven considers Good since it allowed quite a significant number of souls entry to heaven because of altruistic actions by said souls through cupcakes and other baked goods.

[2] The type of talk Aziraphale means is not, as you would expect, talk from heaven or hell. It is, in fact, more talk from his neighbours. They have long assumed Aziraphale to be a bachelor with no life except his books and the sudden presence of a child in his living space above the shop would induce them to Question Him. In Aziraphale’s mind this is far worse than heaven asking after a child living with him. At least heaven can be distracted with a memo or two of miracles; Aziraphale’s neighbours aren’t quite that easy to tame.

[3] Although he could easily miracle it so that Harry will not wake up no matter how loud they are, the fact that Harry is magical means that Crowley isn’t entirely certain it would work. Not with the instinctive magic magical children often perform. Crowley suspects that an absence of noise and other signs of life outside the confines of wherever Harry is sleeping would be anxiety-inducing—thus his magic would naturally seek to reduce the anxiety by countering whatever miracle Crowley performed to keep the child from being disturbed by his and Aziraphale’s antics. In short, he can’t make Harry not hear them because then Harry will want to hear them and that will cause Problems later on.

[4] The Bee movie isn’t, technically, a horror film. It’s impossible for it to be one on its own merit. However. The fact that the internet has collectively decided to be traumatised by a film wherein a woman falls in love with a bee has produced a lot—and I say a lot, reader—of material that is just too disturbing to consider. Crowley loves the entire chaos the film has created and took even greater pleasure than he would otherwise have done in exposing Aziraphale to it all by switching out one of his beloved books with a print out of every comment, piece of art, and reddit page relating to the film. The angel still twitches whenever he sees a book about bees.

#Good Omens #Ineffable husbands #Crowley #Aziraphale #HP #Harry Potter #fanfic #crossover #Absconding with Harry verse #my writing

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yoosea-mysme · 5 years ago

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Did not expect anyone to ask about my OCs x’D I assume because of my matchups from @marshmallowprotection

First thing, which I myself often forget: these ocs are actually technically inserted characters in a pre-existing universe, a French roleplay youtube series. I originally just started imagining different scenarios for the existing characters and then basically did the “let’s give them kids and see what happens” thing. Kinda lame concept, but I love the characters I created for it, and I’ve had them for… a couple years now? Second thing, that universe is magical fantasy, I just didn’t mention it in the matchups because it wasn’t relevant (nor how they end up in Mysme’s world, shush). Now that I’ve thoroughly disappointed you, here are the characters themselves, the cousins/siblings gang (because I’m unsure about giving names, we’re gonna call them Big Sister, Younger Brother, Adopted Cousin and Lyn):

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We’ve got Adopted Cousin (here), the oldest one, he’s actually the only one not blood related to the others. Black with green eyes, VERY tall and thin, originally he was meant to have long blond hair, but I have a tendency to picture him with a black long ponytail so it’s still unclear. He’s an orphan who became the apprentice and then adopted son of a character who is HIMSELF not blood related to the parents of the others, but because their parents treat him as family, he’s their uncle and his son is ergo their cousin. It’s the law. If anyone questions it Big Sister will punch them in the face. Hard. He’s also the only one of the group who has zero connection to magic nor any interest in it whatsoever. For a long time, he avoided the topic of his family because he didn’t want to relieve the trauma of losing them, and tried to focus only on his new family; he’s gotten better at talking about it since (though I won’t go into details on how they died). Easily the most chill and calm of the whole group; all he wants is to get to do his experiments, invent some cool stuff, read, draw and sew because it’s soothing. 98% of the time he gets roped in an adventure is against his will by his cousins (other 2% is when he wants to get his hands on something forbidden to study it; the only times he gets in trouble he does not mess around. Go big or go home, what’s the use of going apeshit if you don’t even get arrested). He just wants to stay home and hyperfocus. Please let him take a nap (they don’t).

The advantage of constantly being thrown around by creatures of hubris is that it puts into practice your quick-thinking skills: very promptly got used to taking charge of every kind of situation no matter how crazy and keeping everything and everyone under control, and will get frustrated when people don’t listen to him (he’ll make them listen). Even though they should technically get along great for being the two most reasonable, he often butts head with Big Sister because of his leading nature (“No I don’t think you’re dumb, please I just want us to survive this let me handle it”) His adoptive father is himself in a huge position of authority so he’s learned a lot from him. He’ll drag everyone safe back home by force if he has to (even if he has noodle arms).

______________________________________________________________

We’ve got the Big Sister (here). Physically perfect mix of her grandmothers, but with her father’s older sister body type (aka: huge): long dark blonde wavy hair and blue (?) eyes. Arguably most attractive face of the bunch. Her father is basically a paladin, her mother is petite but strong (not a fighter though) her aunt is at the head of an army, and she wants in on it. Since she was very young she’s trained with her father in the hopes to join their army (and succeeded) and she’s become the epitome of a huge muscular woman in so doing. She tries to follow her father’s ideals of “justice and protection to the weak and innocent” in theory, but due to her sometimes abrasive attitude (which she gets from him), and the fact that she has inherited a lot of her mother’s personality (a “the end justifies the means” kinda gal), she can sometimes have a warped vision of morality that she has to work on a lot. Sadly, she’s also inherited a bit of her father’s introverted exterior and aunt’s “in case of doubt, punch” reasoning and honestly, that’s just a whole mess of a personality combo but she tries her best. She’s easily the most confident and assertive of the group and never doubts her abilities or goals (sometimes maybe a bit too much), might even boast a lot tad. She’s extremely protective of her loved ones and is the kind that will yell at you for getting in trouble (big sister vibe +1); before her older cousin was adopted she was used to being the oldest of the family and therefore still feels responsible of everyone’s safety, she’ll definitely always try to be in control for every situation. She actually butts head a lot with her adoptive cousin because of them both taking the “older and wiser” role, and it took her a while to begrudgingly admit he’s often better than her at handling things, and that they should just work together instead of trying to one-up each other. She loves messing with people (ESPECIALLY her younger brother whom she can drive MAD) but hates being messed with and will definitely get her revenge. She does her typical “older sibling friendly bullying” thing, but if you trashtalk her brother anywhere near her you’re dead. Only she can mess with him, it’s the law.

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We’ve got the middle child (here), the one I called Lyn (actually a character from another story, this one created entirely by me, that I inserted here once just because and somehow she ended up with an entirely different backstory and family). Related to the other two Brother and Sister by blood (dad is their mother’s half-brother). Somehow looks more like her father’s sister than her parents, also a lot like her mother though she hates to admit it. Her mother had her without ever telling her dad and was extremely abusive to her for 10 years (she has scars, mostly on her back). At that age her father, who was married, found out about her and tried to get in contact with her, until he found out the way she was being treated. Her mom tried to get rid of him by getting him arrested, but his sister-in-law (maybe?? What do you call the sister of the husband of your sister??? She’s the head of the army I mentioned earlier) pulled some strings and managed to get him and his husband custody as well as getting the mom banished. Lyn hasn’t seen her since (but she will ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ). She’s extremely happy with her dads now and thankful to have them.

Her dad is actually a fire mage and she has great control over fire herself, but no interest in pursuing that talent academically; she’s good with knowing how to burn stuff that annoys her when necessary. She greatly prefers to run around outside; she’s really good at sports, an extremely good climber and fighter, runs fast and is agile (all this taught to her by her stepdad). She’s not as much of a “horse girl” as her cousin, but she’s got her own horse (she created it; don’t ask) and she loves him to death. Has absolutely no clue what she wants to do with her life as an accomplished adult and honestly neither do I; maybe she’ll end up going on adventures for the sake of it like the original characters, why not. She honestly doubts herself, her own abilities and her future a lot, but usually tries to hide it behind jokes and smiles. She’s actually extremely resourceful and a quick-thinker, but only if doing so will end in mischief. Sidenote: she drives her adopted cousin up the fucking wall. He just wants to rest and be chill most of the time and she somehow always gets him mixed up in her messes, which he always has to help her clean up. He loves her, but damn does he also want to strangle her. (And now I can see the Vanderwood/Saeyoung vibes, god dammit @marshmallowprotection was right about both their matches)

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And finally, the Younger Brother (here). Perfect mix of his parents, white, grandma’s wavy locks, dark hair and blue eyes, arguably the cutest (his sister and his side of the family just got the bamf genes): youngest of the whole gang, used to being doted on, particularly by his sister. Also used to not being taken seriously because he’s young and being messed with a lot, PARTICULARLY by his sister. He has a huge inferiority complex towards her because he’s always felt like she was more accomplished and closer to their father than he was (which is partially true because since she pursued the same career as him they just got to spend a lot of time training etc. but he loves his children equally. He himself is closer to their mother and mother’s brother) and had a better grasp than him on what to do with her life and how to achieve her goals. He later discovered himself a talent in magic and learned a lot through his grandfather and his mother’s brother the mage; successfully entered the same school as he, one of the best of its kind and has been receiving nothing but praise since. He’s very excited about his studies now. Still very cunning and ambitious.

I mentioned in his matchup description him being easy to manipulate due to his insecurities (also true in love; my baby was in an abusive relationship for some time, his first love, but he’s okay now (his sister and Lyn avenged him…)) and hurting someone he loved because of it: that’s actually Lyn. When he was younger and still dabbling with magic, he started to learn things outside of his level due to the manipulations of his grandfather (that guy is a whole other story, we’re not gonna get into it). Lyn tried to warn him that he was going too far, but tired of never being taken seriously, he tried to prove her wrong and accidentally injured her (and then ran away for two weeks because he had no idea what to do and had a major breakdown). Lyn lost her sight from her left eye; she got most of her sight back now, though not all, but couldn’t get rid of the scar on her face. He felt particularly guilty because out of the entire group, Lyn was the one he had the closest kinship and relationship with due to them being the youngest and certified troublemakers and he couldn’t cope with what he did to her. Lyn was the one who forgave him, helped him get out of that bad mental place, reject their grandfather and get help, and they’ve become even closer ever since, basically inseparable. (Which to me makes the fact I ship them both with TWINS hilarious. Actually damn, that whole thing reminds me a lot of Saeran attacking Saeyoung too because of his mental state and Saeyoung being the one to help him anyway. I’m starting to understand why I ship them with the twins).

… hope you don’t regret asking, anon x’DD

#ask and you shall receive more than you'd wanted #infodump mode is ON #sorry #my ocs #my ramblings #long post

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post-itpenny · 5 years ago

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It Will Be Different

@clownsgobeepbeep This is for the Peregrine and Phoebe request. Hold tight because I really haven’t written this much angst in a while.

Vespers family had come to visit. As awkward as Cosmos was worried it would be he was relieved to find for once it wasn’t.

Vega and Joseph has come with Vespers parents. The fox twins fawning over little Phoebe while Atlas had challenged both his father and Cosmos to Mario Kart.

Vespers sat with his aunt and mother with tea while the guys tried to keep their upset as quiet as possible.

“How do you keep finding blue shells?!” Joseph shouted only to be shushed by everyone in the room.

Cosmos snickered and proceeded to drive Joseph off the Rainbow Road for the third time.

Vespers for the most part watched his family with a sigh of contentment. This is what he had wanted, moments like these were everyone was at ease and enjoying each other's company.

Well, almost everyone.

His mother had said his father had been… off ever since they thought they had lost Aunt Magpie. Maggie explaining that she was back and what state she was in seemed to only excel this. Most of the family was in agreement to see her as soon as they could but accepting that they had to wait until she was well enough. This Adeline was one of his elders, one that his Grandma Claire swore was trustworthy and reliable, that she really knew what she was doing and they should respect her orders.

What other choice did they have?

Vespers looked towards the back window where his father could be spotted outside, leaning against the wall.

He looked so… tired.

Vespers gripped his hands, and took a deep breath before stepping outside.

Peregrine really did look tired, he did not stand as tall as his son was so used to seeing. He clearly had not been sleeping well.

“Hey I thought the insomnia came from mom,” Vespers tried to joke.

His father did not answer, looking off towards the trees that stood beyond the yard instead.

Vespers sighed, “dad you know I don’t think you’ve held Phoebe yet, would you like to come say hi to her?”

“No.”

Vespers flinched, “oh…” He turned to go back inside but stopped himself. He should be angry, he should feel angry his father clearly had a problem with his granddaughter.

Vespers turned back around, “why?”

Peregrine did not answer.

Vespers grit his teeth, “you can tell can’t you. That she’s like Aunt Pie.”

Peregrine looked as if the wind had been knocked out of him, he turned to his son in surprise. “She’s what? No wonder Blackwood was so keen on coming here. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I- I thought you could tell. The way you were acting and all.”

“Acting like what?”

“Like you hate her.”

Peregrine stood still with his mouth open in shock. His shoulders sagging before turning away. “I didn’t know… no I don’t.”

Vespers felt a small part of himself breathe a sigh of relief. But then…

“Father please come see the baby.”

“No,” Peregrine sighed, “no it’s not my place to. Vespers you’re old enough to be honest with. Something I probably should have been a long time ago. I won’t go see Phoebe especially now… not after everything that happened.”

Vespers felt his throat tighten, his eyes stung. “You can’t seriously be so uptight over Aunt Pie even now. She died dad! I was there! She was gone and so was that asshole! She took him with her! Can’t you just let it go?”

“You don’t understand,” Peregrine whispered.

“Understand what? You’re just being stupid at this point! Uncle Casper died a long time ago you really think he would want you acting like this?! Grandmother and Grandfather forgave her! Mom’s forgiven her! Why can’t you?!”

“Because it’s my fault!”

Vespers was taken back, his father was crying.

“I brought that fiend into our house,” Peregrine sobbed. “I encouraged him when I saw he and my sister were interested in each other. I encouraged it! I just wanted her to calm down. To not be so.. So her! I pushed her away and when they just up and left I was glad!”

Vespers flinched at the memory.

He had been so young, Juno herself was only Atlas’ age and he was even younger.

Peregrine was laughing as he chased Juno down the halls. It was time for bed and she didn’t want to go, scooping her up and tickling her until she was in tears from the laughter. Magpie had insisted with Lyra she tuck Vespers in. He was so happy, his aunt reading him a bedtime story and making the pictures come off the page and act out the story. His father came into the doorway and story time ended. Magpie giving the smile of being caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to.

Later Vespers could hear arguing right outside his bedroom door, he climbed out of bed and toddled to the doorway, the crack under the door just big enough he could see his father and aunt’s feet.

“But Peri if you just-”

“No Pie you no better. I know you want to help but you shouldn’t that’s the thing.”

“Peri it’s a drought and the farmers who rent the land aren’t going to be able to pay what they owe us. I could make it rain! They won’t know-”

“It's the simple course of nature Magpie. They’ll sell us their livestock or if worse comes to worse result to sacrifices just like the old days. I have my children to feed and I won’t pass up doing what I must to care for them.”

“But its so stupid! Just let me help!”

“Now calm down Pie-”

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” She screamed.

The walls shook, dust fell from the ceiling. Peregrine moved away from her. Looking back now Vespers realized his father wasn’t moving to get away from his sister.

He was moving closer to Vespers’ bedroom door, he was moving to protect his son.

And Magpie must have known this, the hurt and sadness that filled her voice with what she said next.

“I know you hate me, but don’t think I… I just want to be useful.”

She left and Vespers quietly crawled back into bed, upset because the adults had been so upset.

The next morning his aunt was gone and so was Jack.

She didn’t even say goodbye.

Peregrine wept, Vespers watching it all and wondering if perhaps, just perhaps that all these years it wasn’t really Magpie his father had been mad with.

He just was too proud to admit it.

And for the first time such an incredible amount of time that Vespers could not even remember when had been the last, he hugged his father.

There was something so odd about comforting your own parent, and Vespers wondered if one day he would be in a state that Phoebe would feel the need to comfort him.

Peregrine was so much taller than his son. Crying into his shoulder in an awkward hunched position.

“I won’t go anywhere near the baby Vespers, I won’t ruin this for you.”

Peregrine's words tore through Vespers and soon they were crying together. At one point Lyra had stepped out to check on them but upon seeing the two grown men sobbing she slowly stepped backwards inside. Best let them deal with that.

Eventually Peregrine and Vespers started to calm down, taking one look at each other and laughing at how gross and silly they looked between all the tears and snot.

“Father,” Vespers sighed at last, “please come hold the damn baby. I promise it’s going to be fine.”

Soon enough Peregrine was seated and staring down at the tiny bundle that looked back up at him in curiosity.

He smiled.

“She’s cute as a button I will say. Far less fluff than you or Juno had though.”

Cosmos titled his head slightly in confusion. “You mean the neck fluff?”

Peregrine smirked, “oh yes you could hardly see poor Vespers’ face at this age he just looked like a giant puffball. It was a nightmare trying to find his mouth to feed him anything.”

Vega grinned, “ooh! But he loved mashed yams didn’t he? I remember coming for a visit and you were trying to feed him. All that fluff was stained orange!”

Cosmos snickered while Vespers’ face turned an odd color.

Peregrine however was too busy being enamored with the tiny baby that he held in his arms, this time would be different. He promised.

#I've been wanting to write that flashback for a long time tbh

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roseamongroses · 5 years ago

Text

Antithesis: “the tiniest life boat...full of people I know”

[Specific-Summary]: They should expect growing pains. For not everything to feel right or make sense. That doesn’t mean it’ll always hurt, nor does it mean they can’t have fun along the way. It’s senior year. Everything may be different. It won’t be senior year for long. Everything will be okay.

[General Warnings]: Implied Emotional Abuse, Implied Physical Abuse, Bad Parents are Bad Parents, Mild Sexual Content/jokes,Mentioned Homophobia, Mentions of underage drinking (backround), Some Catcalling,Cursing , Self Hate,implied pregnancy talk/inability to become pregnant, adults arguing where the “kid” can hear it, adults drinking,

[Tags/mood:] highschool au, fluff and angst but its all good, chat fic, teen stress, its flordia no snow we die like men [Pairing:] Roceit (Roman Sanders/ Deceit Sanders), hinted future/possible logince/roloceit/loceit [Characters]Roman Sanders/Deceit (Dmitri) Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Logan Sanders, Patton Sanders, Remy (Sleep) Sanders, Nate Sanders, Dragon Witch (Diana) Remus “The Duke” Sanders (minor/brief)

(Ao3) (Previously) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15)(16) (17) (18) (19)

(20) (21)

Lo:W Lo: Why Lo:Why are babies like this

Rem: you mean disgusting right?

R: stop shading them when they can’t even defend themselves

Remy: AM I WRONG THO

Dm: Yes.

Remy: fuck you Remy: you cannot tell me the wiggling, crying, shitting masses are adorable Remy: it's PROPAGANDA.

Dm: I’m pretty sure you just described yourself drunk

Rem: fuck. you. pretty. boy.

Dm: Aw you think I’m pretty?

R: why can’t you guys be nice to each other :,(

Dm: you told logan to eat ass like ten minutes ago so

Rem:and aren’t you like putting pink glitter on all of virgil’s clothes

R: hey hEY HEY I NEVER CLAIMED TO BE NICE

R: I SAID BE NICE TO E ACH OTHER.

R: anyway how are my favorite twins

L: Terrible. L: Arlo’s crying bc we wouldn’t let her eat a charger

L: Louie is determined to fling himself off of random objects

R: i love them.

Dm: Roman no.

R: roman yes.

L: And my parents are getting the Look again L: I swear to god they’re planning for another

R: ew ew no not that put that back

R: your parents are so sweet i doNT WANT TO THINK ABOUT THAT

Rem: i will never get overr how Rem: those horny ass hippies made actual old man logan

L: Neither Will I

Dm: Why diI

Something crashed.

The sound splintered the silence of the home and Dmitri stilled. He eyed his partly opened door, not daring to breathe.

He’d been sent to his room for most of the day while his “birthday” preparations were underway. It was mainly for show, but Dr. Montag seemed genuinely excited about the occasion. He’d always seemed excited about “family” things, and Dmitri had gotten to the point where it no longer felt...as threatening.

Sure, he wasn’t going to be calling him dad or uncle anytime--ever, but it was a nicer way of looking at family events then what he was used to. And what was he used to?

“What are you fucking stupid?” his aunt said, her voice booming throughout the house riddled with accusation.

Dmitri felt the rising panic in his throat and he tried to make himself smaller---quieter.

He eyed the open door like the stupid mistake it was.

Following this came softer apologies. Dr. Montag’s voice unclear, but concerned.

That brief moment didn’t last as his aunt lashed out again, “No--No-No! I will not be fucking shushed. This is my house, who do you think you are?” she said.

As if to emphasize her point she got even louder, “ What do you think this is? A game? You think we can play the house and make it work? No, I need commitment, not this---Don’t you dare try to bring that fucking parasite into this.” Dmitri heard stomping down the hall, getting closer, and she hissed, “It has to be perfect--You promised me we would be perfect--”

Her voice dropped, soft whimpers following.

“Patty please, the doctors said--”

“I don’t care what the doctors said, you're just… you’re just trying to make excuses--” She was hiccuping, her voice becoming more strangled, “I doubt you even love me. You said you wanted to keep trying, but now you're scared? What kind of man are you? What would my father think? If you don’t want to get married just say so you poor excuse for a gold digger.”

Silence.

No crying, no screaming, only silence.

Minutes later, he heard the front door close. Minutes after that he heard his aunt’s bedroom door slam.

Minutes later, Dmitri could be more bothered he supposed.

He could be more alarmed at the wave of nothingness he felt draining away at him. But he wasn’t sure what he had to be emotional about. His aunt? Sure he had constant guilt about anything to do with her, but nothing that ever made him feel like something wasn’t clicking.

Like something was just out of reach, so close, but now it was gone.

He went to tend to his plants. He maneuvered around the shattered glass, ignoring the birthday decor that will probably be unceremoniously trashed now that his aunt no longer had a fiance to show off--and no longer had a potential child to boast either.

She would never hear the end of it from his grandfather, he assumes, so in turn, he will never hear the end of it from her.

As he was picking his way through his tools and eyeing the nursery plants, he noticed a flat, wrapped box, knocked off one of the patio tables. It's tag clearly labeled with his name in fancy cursive script.

He glanced back at the house, fingers skimming the edge of the obnoxiously bright wrapping paper and carefully peeling it apart, hoping the creaking sounds weren’t as loud as they sounded in his head.

Inside where a pair of yellow gloves, gardening gloves, and a note.

---

Dear Dmitri,

I know I’ve only been in your life for a short amount of time, but I’m glad your aunt and I have decided to make it work. I’m glad to have met you.

I may not know your situation, I may not know you, but I’m going to trust my gut on this. You’re a sweet, smart kid with a promising future in anything you set your mind to. I hope you trust me enough to help you with exploring that future. I’ve always wanted a family, and I know that your aunt hopes to build one too.

Happy 18th birthday! Let’s hope for 18 more :)

Happy 18th birthe for 18 more :)

birthy! Let’s hope f8

- Lets hope f -

hope

----

Dmitri’s vision blurred, the paper’s ink becoming smudged and he tucked it away, shaking. Tears rolled down his face quickly and the more he tried to stop the more they came.

His throat was tight. He couldn’t breathe---his grip was tight on his shirt as if it would steady him but he couldn’t--he couldn’t---

He fumbled for his phone, the box hitting the ground sometime in between as he sank to the ground, hitting the first number in the contact list.

He needed to hear someone--god anyone. The dial tone felt like an eternity, each ring feeling a hammer to the chest.

Then finally he heard a click.

Then he heard a voice he hadn’t heard in a long time. Sure it was deeper, more assured, but at the end of the day, it was still---

“Emile?” Dmitri said, crying even harder.

---

@daflangstlairde

@ace-anx

@cataclysm-al

#Roman Sanders #Deceit Sanders #roceit #sanders sides #ts sides #ts emile #ts logan #ts remy #antithesis

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anne-wentworth · 6 years ago

Text

Emptiness to Melody

Peter doesn't really sleep anymore. Sometimes Morgan can't either. They find solace in each other.

Read on ao3

After everything, Peter found himself spending weekends at the lake house. It was reminiscent of a time when he would spend all of his free moments at the compound, eagerly modifying his suit with Tony, bouncing around ideas or quietly doing his homework while the older man worked on a project of his own, or simply sprawled out eating takeout when Pepper had to work late.

That was five years ago.

God.

He still couldn’t believe it sometimes. All of those seconds, minutes, hours lost. Days and weeks and months and during which, Mr. Stark had built the house by the lake. Had built a family.

And had left it all behind to save the universe.

The grief would come in waves, but it was easier for Peter to deal with in the home that Tony had put so much care into. Surrounded by the people who loved him most.

May would come up to the house with him whenever she was able to get time off. She had looked at Morgan for the first time at the funeral and Peter saw the same expression she wore the day she took him in.

I’m sorry he’d overheard her softly saying to Pepper as she quickly wiped away tears before her daughter could see. I know what it’s like to lose someone you love.

So, they were a ragtag bunch, with Happy and Rhodey dropping by whenever they could, all holding each other together. All keeping the others from completely falling apart.

Tonight though, the sadness was threatening to drown him. Sleep had deserted him ever since he came back, leaving him at the mercy of his thoughts which were sometimes as bad as his nightmares. After staring at the ceiling for hours, Peter ended up venturing down to Tony’s lab. He sat in his chair, merely looking at everything, almost afraid to touch anything lest something shatter.

The world felt fragile.

Peter felt as if he had been walking on ice ever since he returned. Part of him kept waiting to disappear again. A reckless part of him wanted to.

But he shoved those feelings aside, wrapping them up in a box never to be opened because Tony sacrificed his damn self so that he could have a shot at life. Instead he stared at the work station, a space Tony had undoubtedly spent hours at. His ghost lingered everywhere.

Peter let the aching weave its threads around his heart as he wished for a person who didn’t exist anymore. As he longed for more time.

Time.

It was always time.

Too little. Too much. Not enough. Gone.

Suddenly, he rose because he couldn’t stay here any longer he couldn’t…he just couldn’t.

Peter turned to leave but before he could get very far, a small figure sitting at the bottom of the stairs startled the hell out of him.

“Shit!” he exclaimed, clutching his chest.

The corner of Morgan’s mouth instantly quirked up.

“What are you doing up?” he asked, making his way over to her.

“What are you doing up?” she countered, in true Stark fashion.

“Can’t sleep,” Peter responded as he sat down beside her.

“Me too.”

Morgan stared off into the direction of Tony’s desk and chair, eyes distant. Peter watched, that familiar wonder rising within him whenever he so much as glanced at her.

Tony’s child.

It was still so strange.

“Me and daddy used to eat juice pops when we couldn’t sleep,” Morgan said abruptly, breaking Peter out of his thoughts.

Her voice was so tiny as she kept staring at the space she must have watched her father work countless times before. Almost as if she stared hard enough, she would be able to conjure him up.

If only it worked that way.

“How about we have some juice pops?” Peter asked, ready to steal the stars from the sky for this little girl just to see her smile.

She was quiet for a moment, weighing the offer in her mind.

“Okay,” she finally answered.

Peter stood up, holding out his hand. She clasped hers in his and together they headed to the kitchen, where Peter grabbed two juice pops from the freezer before they settled in the living room.

Silence blanketed them as they ate, the occasional crinkle of the wrappers the only sound to be heard. Peter remembered being a kid and losing his parents and then later on losing Ben. He remembered that there wasn’t a thing anyone could have said to make him feel better. The only reprieve from the constant weight on his chest was May’s arms around him, holding him when he couldn’t keep the tears at bay any longer.

So, Peter put his arm around Morgan, pulling her closer against him.

He wiped her mouth with the edge of his sleeve and she looked at him with the same sadness that lived in his own eyes now too.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, hating himself for such a stupid question but he didn’t know what else to say.

Morgan merely shrugged in response.

“I miss him too,” he confessed softly into the night air.

“Is that why you were downstairs?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s why I was there too,” Morgan admitted. “Sometimes I forget. That he’s…gone.”

Every one of Peter’s heartstrings snapped in two as he thought of Morgan unable to sleep, running down to her dad’s lab to look for him only to find someone else instead. Someone she still barely even knew.

“I forget too,” he told her. “All the time.”

She got quiet again for a moment and Peter wished with everything in him that there was something he could do to help.

“He used to miss you too,” she said after a while.

“What?” Peter asked confusedly.

“While you were…before you came back. Daddy missed you. He had a picture of the two of you that he used to look at all the time when he thought no one was looking.”

“Really?” he managed to get out, all of the breath stolen from his lungs as his throat threatened to close up.

“Yeah,” Morgan nodded seriously. “But I notice everything.”

“I’m sure you do.”

Your dad never missed a thing either he wanted to say but the words got stuck on his tongue as he struggled to hold himself together. He didn’t need to have another breakdown in front of Morgan.

“He used to tell me stories about you too. At bedtime.”

And that was all it took for the tears to start streaming down his face.

“Sorry,” he mumbled as he quickly tried to wipe them away.

“It’s okay,” she said softly. “Mommy said it’s okay to cry.”

“Well your mommy’s very smart.”

“Daddy says she’s the smartest person-” Morgan began but suddenly she faltered. “I mean he used to say…she’s the smartest person in the world…”

She trailed off and Peter broke, every inch of him in pieces.

“Tell me about your favourite story,” he said, grasping at anything he could get his hands on, desperate for any form of distraction to ease the sorrow that surrounded her. “A bedtime story. Anything.”

“Um,” she paused to think for a minute but then her eyes became full of quiet mischief. “I like the one where daddy had to save your ass at the ferry.”

“Okay he did not have to save my-” he broke off. “Hey wait. You’re not allowed to say that word.”

“Why not?” she inquired indignantly. “You say it, mommy says it, Uncle Happy and Uncle Rhodey say it. Even Aunt May says it.”

Peter resisted the urge to tell her that his aunt said a lot of words that were much worse than ass.

“That’s because we’re grown-ups so we can say all the bad words we want.”

“You’re not a grown up!” she argued. “You’re still in high school.”

Peter almost laughed because technically he was twenty-two. According to his birth certificate and ID and everything else because he still hadn’t collected his new documents that indicated he was one of the people who had been dusted.

But if he pulled on that thread he would unravel so he buried that thought too.

“Well I’m almost a grown-up,” was what he said instead. “So, it counts.”

“So, when I’m your age I’ll be allowed to say ass too?” Morgan asked innocently.

Peter narrowed his eyes at her in a mock glare. Then, without warning, he grabbed one of the throw pillows from the couch and gently hit her with it.

“Hey!” she exclaimed before stealing it out of his hands and not so gently flinging it in his face.

Peter sputtered, and Morgan laughed, and the sound nearly made him weep with joy.

“Oh, you just made a big mistake,” he warned.

In seconds he was off the couch with another pillow in his arms, chasing the five year old around the room. She shrieked, getting in some good blows of her own and Peter had to admit, she was damn strong for someone so small. They tripped over themselves in their haste to dodge each other’s hits, collecting more cushions to use as shields and to throw across the room. They almost knocked over a vase four times.

Morgan’s laughter mixed with her screams and Peter half heartedly tried to shush her but truthfully, he never wanted her to stop. Besides, he didn’t think anyone else would mind being awoken by such noises. It was almost like music.

Their battle finally ended with Peter lying on the ground and Morgan leaning over him with a pillow poised over his head.

“Surrender or die!” she threatened.

“Okay! Okay I surrender,” he complied, holding his arms out in a gesture of truce.

With a smile, she eased her weapon down on the floor beside him.

Peter took in her dishevelled state and bit back a laugh.

“I think its time for you to go to bed,” he said, reaching out to move some of the hair from out of her face.

Surprisingly, she didn’t protest, silently moving off of Peter so that he could get up. That was how he knew she had really worn herself out.

After he stood, he picked her up to take her to her room. She rested her head on his shoulder, wrapping her little arms around his neck as she yawned.

Upon reaching her bedroom, Peter gently lowered her on to the bed, tugging the blankets over her already half-sleeping form. He watched her for a moment, unable to keep himself from wishing that Tony was here to tuck her into bed too.

There was no point in wishing.

He had learned long ago that they didn’t come true.

He turned to exit the room, absently wondering if the night would bring sleep for him as well.

“Pete?” Morgan’s voice called out quietly just before he could leave.

“Yeah,” he replied, spinning on his heel.

“Can you stay?”

His chest cracked open at the request, his heart laid bare for all the world to see.

“Of course.”

And so, he climbed into bed next to her, gathering her in his arms as she snuggled against him. For the first time since he returned, a feeling resembling sunshine swam through his veins, warming his entire being. Flowers could have bloomed in his stomach and he wouldn’t have been surprised.

“Goodnight Morgan,” he whispered. “I love you.”

“Love you too Petey,” she mumbled drowsily.

Petey.

He smiled at the new nickname, letting those two syllables wash over him.

There was a lot Peter had lost in his life. But there was so much he’d gained too. And Morgan Stark…she was the latest to build a home in his heart.

Peter remembered tentatively asking Pepper about the old arc reactor a few days after the funeral.

Proof that Tony Stark has a heart.

A small smile had graced her features as she told him the story of the gift she gave Tony another lifetime ago. Peter remembered thinking that she was wrong. The proof of Tony’s heart back then had been her.

Her and Rhodey and Happy.

Then came the Avengers.

Then him.

And now Morgan.

In each of them, Tony lived on.

Peter didn’t think he would ever stop missing him. But as his eyes fell shut, he took comfort in the fact that he would never truly be gone. Everyone under this roof carried a piece of Tony Stark with them. They always would.

At that moment, Peter’s grief ebbed, the waves receding if only for a little while. But it was enough.

That night, he slept.

#post endgame fic #peter parker fic #morgan stark #peter parker and morgan stark #mine #shoutout to that hozier lyric generator for giving me a fic title lmao #endgame spoilers

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clownsgobeepbeep · 5 years ago

Text

Ankle-Biter

@grotesquegabby I’ve been needing to develop some stuff and decided to write this thing for that reason as well as for fun X3 This is a tad bit long I believe, so I apologize for that

Lennie was pretty chill, having woken up a while ago after taking a nap. It was a bit of a lonely nap considering his Jelly-Bean was still at work, their youngest were in their rooms doing their own thing, and their oldest...she was at her own house. But hey, at least she would be visiting soon enough, even if it would be for a very short while.

So, Lennie sat up in bed before sliding off it to stretch and exit his and Jelly’s bedroom. Once out, he walked through the hallways where there were closed doors, one that he opened as he smiled to himself, a sad smile as he remembered nobody really slept in that room anymore. However, his thoughts were interrupted at the sound of a ringing doorbell.

“I’ll open it!” came one voice as Lennie saw another one of the doors swing open as Cordelia dashed out, the door to Davey’s room eventually following after before he peeked his head out.

“Hey dad.”

“Hey Davey.” Lennie smiled as his son stepped out of his room. “What have you been up to?”

“Not much.”Davey shrugged as he took a bite from his steamed cheesecake slice. “Have a good nap?”

“Oh yeah, it was-” They were soon interrupted when a squeal was heard, followed by a shushing sound which made Davey and Lennie look at each other again. “I’m guessing they’re here.”

“Yeup.”Davey nodded before they made their way down the hall before eventually reaching the front door where Cordelia stood in front of a pair, easily recognized as her older sister and brother-in-law.

“I thought you guys were coming in half an hour.” Lennie smiled as he and Davey approached everybody, smiling up at Ula who carried a small backpack and was dressed very nicely, looking so much like her mother.

“Hi dad.”she smiled before crouching down to hug and kiss him as Lennie returned the greeting. “ We were going to originally do that, but we have something else to do before that so I hope you don’t mind that we came earlier.”

“It’s no problem at all.”Lennie reassured her before looking behind her to see her husband who was a tad bit confused on everything that was being said. So, Lennie waved at him before Schrader, dressed very well as well, eventually waved back.

“How are you?” Lennie signed with his hands before Schrader gave him a thumbs up with a hand he removed from the infant sleeping on his shoulder. The couple soon walked in as Ula handed the backpack over to Davey who looked through it after he had been greeted as well. Meanwhile, Lennie sat down on the living room’s couch as Schrader did so next to him.

“He’s asleep.”Schrader whispered as he motioned to his son, removing him as slowly as he was careful not to wake him up to hand him over to Lennie. “Thanks for taking care of him.”

Lennie gave a small shrug as he cradled Basil in his arms as if to say ‘it’s no problem’, then feeling the boy slightly shift before Lennie felt his breath on his neck.

“Okay, so I already fed him hence why he’s asleep right now. I’d say he won’t want to eat until like, 2 hours later, that is if he wakes up. If he wakes up too late, don’t feed him.” Ula instructed to her siblings and dad who listened. “However, you could feed him a small bottle of blood that is in the backpack, but not the meat chunks, got it? But if he does wake up in time for meat, no animal meat nor milk, he’ll hate you for that. And-”

“Ula.”Lennie stopped her with a chuckle. “You don’t have to worry about anything. We’ve got this handled.”

“I know, I know but…”Ula whispered before gently ruffling Basil’s orange hair. “I just haven’t left my little pumpkin this long.”

“I know you haven’t, which is why I agree with your mom that you and Schrader have the night to yourselves.”Lennie pat the baby’s back. “You two have been working too much and deserve this night. Trust me.”

“We’ll take good care of him Ula.”Cordelia grinned with two thumbs up as Davey gave a soft nod, then looking over at Schrader who stood up.

“Is it time to go?” he asked, Ula then giving a nod before they both kissed their son goodbye and waved to their relatives. Before they left, Davey signed a ‘Treat her right, or I’ll get you’ to Schrader who playfully rolled his eyes before the sailor smiled at him and bid them a good date. Davey then turned to Lennie who looked at the baby who shifted once again, then lifting his head with a yawn that exposed all of his sharp teeth. He smacked his lips before looking around the room, realizing that he wasn’t at home.

“Hey there little guy.”Lennie cooed at him as Basil attempted to turn around as he caught sight of his aunt and uncle who soon leaned towards him.

“Hi there Basil!” Cordelia excitedly exclaimed as she poked his nose, then retracting her entire hand as she remembered what happened once he was born and handed to his mother. Luckily enough, Cordelia just avoided having her finger bitten off as Basil snapped his teeth at her.

“You know he doesn’t like that Cordie.”Davey slightly scoffed before reaching a hand under Basil’s chin, gently scratching him which made Basil’s eyes roll back as he closed them, clearly pleased with the feeling. Davey chuckled as Basil even leaned in closer to him, resting his head on his hand which made Cordelia give a small huff.

“Dad, can I hold him?” she asked as she reached her hands out, Lennie giving a laugh and shrug.

“I don’t know Cordie, he seems to want to go with Davey right now.”

“Awww…”Cordelia pouted as she watched her brother be handed their nephew who lifted his chin, Davey getting the signal to continue scratching him. “Well, I’m gonna go chat with Penny then. Call me if you need me.”

“I don’t think we will.~”Davey whispered to himself with a laugh as he continued scratching Basil’s chin.

“Alright, come here and hand him over.”Lennie reached his hands out at Davey who gave him a surprised look.

“But dad, come on.”

“Look, I’ll take care of him while you go and get his food ready. I don’t know where Cordie put my stool and I can’t reach the microwave without it.”

“Well, alright.” Davey sighed as he stopped scratching Basil’s chin, lowering him to hand him over to Lennie who happily took his grandson. He soon walked out of the living room, whispering to him as he held him close.

“Just don’t tell your mom we fed you right now, kay?”

Basil looked at him with his usual stoic eyes, only blinking in response before Lennie gave him a kiss on the forehead.

_____________

“Tell me Basil,” Lennie started as he sat on his bed with Basil sitting in front of him. “What’s a ghost’s favorite fruit?”

Basil stared at Lennie who reached into a bowl, pulling out a blueberry that he held up to Basil’s blue eye.

“Boo-berries.”Lennie snickered to himself before hearing a slight groan which made him turn to the doorway, seeing Davey who pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Come on dad, not on Basil.”

“Trust me, I know he likes these.”Lennie smiled before turning to Basil who had gotten on all fours to crawl over to the bowl, sniffing its contents. “Right Basil?”

They both saw as Basil then rolled over onto his back, stretching his limbs as much as possible before making grabby hands at the air.

“I think he wants to play.”Davey suggested as he walked towards the bed, sitting down before he revealed the toys he had brought along with him. “Which one do you want Basil? Pick your favorite.”

Davey placed each toy on the bed as Basil turned to his side to look at them, grabbing the first one he saw before biting it.

“We should get him some chew toys.”

“Don’t let Ula hear that.”

“Daaaad!” came Cordelia’s voice as she stepped into the room, gasping excitedly as she saw he baby bite and kick at the toy like a cat would. “Basil! You’re so adorable, you!”

“Did you need something?” Lennie asked before Cordelia snapped out of it, already hovering over Basil who continued to kick at the plush.

“Yeah, I need to cut the meat so where are all the knives?” she asked, resulting in Basil to stop playing with the plush as he released it from his mouth and tilted his head at the sound of the word ‘knives’. Lennie motioned for Cordelia to come close so that he could whisper to her, Basil noticing this before he kicked the toy away and attempted to crawl over towards them to listen. However, he was stopped by Davey’s hands that pulled him up and away and towards his face.

“Where are you going little guy, huh?” he asked, then feeling as Basil gave him a small punch on the jaw which made him laugh, that was hilarious. “Nice one Basil.”

Basil attempted to wiggle out of Davey’s grasp but was quite unsuccessful which in turn made him give up, then leaning backwards as he attempted to fall in that way.

“You’re gonna fall and hurt yourself, can’t have that Basil.” Davey told Basil who reached his hands out as if trying to use the air to pull himself away. Once again, he was unsuccessful.

“Alright, so you stay here.” Lennie told Cordelia before turning to Davey. “Davey, come over here and help me, would you?”

“What about Basil?”

“Cordelia will keep an eye on him.” Lennie stated which made both the siblings give a gasp, Cordelia and excited one and Davey a false yet somewhat shocked one.

“Looks like I’m gonna have to leave you now you tiny slasher.” Davey whispered to Basil who touched his face. “If she’s being too annoying, you give me a holler, okay?”

“Hey!”Cordelia frowned before she was handed her nephew, then holding him close as he flailed one of his arms around. “I would never annoy this baby, and he’s never annoyed by me, right Basil?”

Cordelia now held him in front of her, smiling at him as he only gave her a blank stare. Soon enough, Lennie and Davey went to fetch a knife to cut up the meat chunks into smaller ones, just to be safe. And just to be safe, they kept quiet so Basil would not hear where the knives were hidden away, from him.

“So now it’s you and me, Audrey. That’s a nice name your mom gave you: Basil Audrey D’Vitt Sage, yet it’s so long for a tiny baby like you.” Cordelia giggled before bringing Basil in for a hug, not realizing in the moment that he clearly was not enjoying it. That was until Cordelia felt a bite on her neck, more like a nibble however.

“Owie!” she pouted as she held Basil in front of her again, and he gave her yet another blank stare. “Guess I won’t do that again...how about, we play a game?”

Basil tilted his head as Cordelia set him down on the bed, grabbing some of the toys before making funny voices.

“Hi there Basil, my name is Mr. Smiles the Seal, and I’m Wally the Whale!” she spoke as Basil look confused if not surprised, especially since these fluffy animals were somehow talking to him. “I’m Octavious the Octopus! Oh, that’s a long name, huh?”

Basil blinked as the octopus plush approached him and he leaned back as it kissed his forehead, surprising him even more.

“And I’m Cordelia the Mermaid Ballerina!”Cordelia exclaimed as she popped her head in between the toys, making Basil lean more before falling backwards onto the bed which made Cordelia gasp, afraid that he had been hurt. “Basil!”

Basil then reached up as Cordelia picked him up, holding him in front of her again. The baby leaned in with his hands still up, making Cordelia smile as she believed he was going to hold her cheeks and kiss her face like he constantly did to his mother. However, his hands instead reached for her hair which he roughly tugged on.

“Ow!” Cordelia flinched before Basil let her go, then looking straight at her. “Basil, that actually hurt…But that’s okay, I forgive you.”

After some more staring at each other, Basil glanced down at his feet covered by his pajamas, swinging them around before he looked at Cordelia once again. And just like that, he disappeared in her hands which made her eyes widen before she gave a nervous laugh.

“Ah, I get it...you’re playing.”she smiled to herself, then giving a sigh of relief. “Hide and seek, huh?”

And so, Cordelia looked around the whole room. Under the bed, in the bathroom, behind the curtains, in the closet where she found some handcuffs for some reason, anyways. She then looked through the pillows, the plush toys, behind the door, everywhere...wow, he hid really well, and it didn’t make it any better that Basil never made a sound.

“Okay, come on Basil...you can come out now.”Cordelia whispered as she then looked outside of the bedroom, hoping he’d at least be in the hallway. But to no avail, he wasn’t anywhere in sight. Not Davey’s room, not Ula’s old room, not the bathroom, nowhere...so, Cordelia panicked before rushing over to the kitchen where she found Davey cutting up the meat for Basil to eat.

“Davey.”

“What?”he now turned to her.

“We...we have a problem.”

“Problem? Where’s Basil?”

“That’s the problem.”

“What!?”

“Shhh! I don’t want dad to know!”

“Cordelia-, how do you lose a baby? Our sister’s baby!?” Davey exclaimed as he set the knife and meat down, Cordelia giving a small shrug.

“He just...poofed! In my hands!”

“Who poofed in your hands?” Lennie asked as he walked into the kitchen, Cordelia’s eyes widening as even more panic rushed through her. “Cordelia?”

“Nobody.” Cordelia’s eyes glanced to the side as her nose crinkled and she started picking at her nails. “Just the plush I was holding earlier, it poofed away into thin air.

“Cordelia.” Lennie pressed as he noticed her obvious lying, Cordelia glancing at him for a split second before her eyes darted away once again. “Cordelia.”

“Basil! He vanished into thin air! He teleported away, I don’t know!”

“What?”Lennie’s eyes widened as Cordelia bit her lip. “We have to find him.”

“I know! Dad I’m sorry!”

“Cordie, it’s oka. Ula’s mentioned that he frequently does that.” Lennie tried to calm her down before looking over at Davey. “And trust me, your mother and I dealt with that quite often.”

“Why are you looking at me?” Davey asked before Lennie shook his head, then turning back to Cordelia.

“Just go and look for him, make sure he’s not hurt or anything.”

Davey and Cordelia nodded before they parted ways, looking through the house as Lennie headed back to his bedroom. Once there, he searched the area but found no trace of Basil, so he went out to the hallway where he found Davey and Cordelia looking in their own rooms for the baby. Lennie, rather than going back to the kitchen or living room, decided to open Ula’s old room once again.

“I already checked there dad.”Cordelia called out, but Lennie still went inside as he noticed something...something that reminded him of a pumpkin. Right on the bed that was still there, with its blankets neatly done and pillows properly fluffed, Lennie spotted a head of orange hair right next to a large plush shark.

“I think I found the little guy.” Lennie quietly said behind him before Davey and Cordelia poked their heads through the door, watching as Lennie approached the bed to circle around it when he could now clearly see Basil laying as he tightly clutched onto the plush with his claws. The baby sniffed the air before turning his head as his eyes met Lennie’s, and he smiled at the infant.

“Hey there...I see you found your mom’s stuff.” he breathed out before climbing on the bed, careful not to make Basil go away again. “Do you like sharks?”

Basil lifted his head, keeping a close eye on Lennie who sat on the opposite side of the shark, even motioning to his kids to hand him a book that was on the nearby desk. Lennie was soon handed the book that read ‘Jaws by Peter Benchley’, and he showed it to Basil to shifted to get a better look.

“Come on, I won’t do anything to you.” Lennie whispered before Basil sat up to get on all fours, going over the shark to sit beside Lennie who grabbed him to placed him in between his legs. “See? Not so bad.”

Basil reached a hand out to touch the book, a shark right on the cover.

“I’ll read it to you if you promise not to tell your grandma about this.”Lennie chuckled as Basil attempted to open the book, so Lennie did so before reading out loud. “The great fish moved silently through the night water, propelled by short sweeps of its crescent tail. The mouth was open just enough to permit a rush of water over the gills. Pretty nice, huh?”

Basil leaned back onto Lennie’s stomach, even placing his little hands on his own belly as he seemed to finally relax. Fuck, Lennie adored this kid so damn much. He leaned down and kissed the top of his orange hair before continuing to read.

“There was little other motion: an occasional correction of the apparently aimless course by the slight raising or lowering of a pectoral fin—as a bird changes direction by dipping one wing and lifting the other.” Lennie whispered to Basil who sighed, then turning to the each side where his aunt and uncle stood, handing him either his now warm crimson bottle or a smaller shark plush. These items he gratefully took as his grandpa continued reading to him.

Davey and Cordelia sat on the sides,listening to the shark tale as well, noticing how Basil hugged the shark tightly and eventually dropped his bottle, for Lennie’s soothing voice was slowly lulling him into a peaceful sleep.

#lazy lennie #davey the sailor clown #cordelia the mermaid ballerina #basil the slasher clown #baby basil is like the new baby raptors at universal studios lol

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arcana-apprentice-lizbeth · 5 years ago

Text

Puppy Love

Hey guys, I'm back to writing fanfiction. Here's some content of my MC Lizbeth interacting with Asra. Hope you enjoy some backstory.

Lizbeth x Asra Fluffy

Lizbeth met Asra properly for the first time at the Masquerade. She had seen him hanging around behind Aunt Gail's shop, peddling fortunes to the customers who came to Gail looking to magical or spiritual aid. Today he was selling trinkets and baubles, bundles of leaves and sticks that he was saying were charms. She had thought at first that he was just another con, a swindler, someone selling magic when what they really had was junk. But he was young and cute and to be polite she paused at his little stand and picked up one of the little bundles.

Power zinged up her arm and left her palm tingling. This charm was Alive and filled to bursting with duty and the love it's creator had poured into it. Lizbeth blinked down at the charm as her heart raced. "These are beautiful." She said when she looked back up to Asra. What she had wanted to say was "these are far better than I would have expected from someone who obviously lives on the streets."

She bought the charm and stayed to chat. He was of age with her, it turned out, but his willowy frame and fluttering white eyelashes made him look so much younger. Perhaps his fortunes were as good as his charms- if so she may be able to convince Gail to let him rent a table in the shop to do his business. A safe place to work and a few warm meals a day might do him some good.

They were interrupted when the Countess, new and shimmering and glorious, approached Asra's table. Lizbeth had expected their new Countess to be escorted by guards or perhaps and entourage; instead she was alone. But no less regal for it.

As Nadia began to examine Asra's fare Lizbeth slipped away, the charm she had purchased clasped tight in her palm.

Lizbeth visited Vesuvia the following year for the Masquerade. Again she kept to herself, examining what trinkets or costumes or services were for sale, what over-the-top experiences had been set up. She floated along, the tide of emotions from all of the revelers filling her up.

Asra was hard to miss, with his halo of white hair and that periwinkle ball python curled atop his head, her head raised like a periscope. He was... Anxious. Searching for something. When Lizbeth focused upon him the chorus of emotions from everyone around them faded and his came into focus. Yes, he was searching, a fluttering anxiety twisting inside him. He looked her way, eyes first passing over her and then rebounding back, his gaze locking with hers. Lizbeth felt his anxiety crest, a fever pitch-

She stepped towards him, herself enthralled by his gaze and feeling his uncertainty as if it were her own, and when she did his disquiet fled and a serene calm filled them both.

He looked better now, she noted as she came to his stand. Gail had said she had offered him a space in the shop for his readings, but she must have been feeding him as well. As a result Asra looked healthier, his frame still lean but now with muscle instead of just bone, his skin warm instead of sallow. When he smiled at her his teeth were white and perfect, and Lizbeth's heart raced with a thrill that was all her own. He was beautiful and smiling at her, how else should she respond but with the warmth of a blush coloring her cheeks?

"You came back." His voice was heated as summer sun, his smile calm despite their racing hearts. She felt hope bloom in him as she reached down to trace her fingers over the charms he had to offer. His table was overflowing with them this year, and the magic in them sang to her.

"I did." Lizbeth found herself shy around him, unable to meet his gaze. Her heart fluttered with an infatuation all her own. She took a breath and closed her empathy, forcing those channels closed so she could be alone with her own mind and feelings. She was not a schoolgirl who got flustered when a pretty person flashed her a smile. She was an Ahmari, a descendant of mages brave enough to fly and bed with dragons. She straightened herself, took a deep breath and felt the fire of her magic filling her chest, moving through her body with each beat of her heart. She was an Ahmari.

The adoration in his eyes nearly melted her again, but this time she kept her composure. "You brought more charms this year. They are very good, very lively. Who helps you make them?"

His grin quirked up on one side, as if he knew she was near to falling apart. "A friend of mine helps me gather the supplies, but the magic is all mine." He paused as his snake slid down his shoulder and reached towards Lizbeth. "Well, mine and Faust's, that is. She helps."

"Friend!"

The snakes voice was small and child-like, and entirely unexpected. Lizbeth blinked even as her magic purred in response. She could picture great wings spreading and then folding again, scales rippling with satisfaction. Like called to like, it would seem- one reptile to another.

Lizbeth reached her hand out, palm up, to accept the curious Faust. "I would like to be a friend, I believe." She murmured as the snake coiled around her arm. "That is, if your handsome friend is alright with it."

This time it was Asra who blushed and glanced away to gather courage. Lizbeth nearly laughed at how cute he looked, but she kept her amusement to herself. It was a nice change in this interaction to have him be the one flustered. Faust reached back to her master and Lizbeth handed her over, her skin tingling faintly from the brush of scales.

"You can hear her?" He asked as Faust draped herself over his shoulders.

How interesting. "Does she not speak to everyone?"

"No, just me and a few others."

"Ah."

The silence stretched as the Masquerade continued to swirl around them. Lizbeth let it. Seeing Asra off balance made her footing seem firmer, like she was more herself. A smile spread over her face, a little predatory, a tad prideful, and every bit the dragon smile of an Ahmari. Her breed may be dying but they were still powerful, still held sway in many places. She would not be set adrift by the smile and charming words of one Fortune Teller.

But what if she wanted to be adrift? her heart asked her. What if she did not want to be cruel and detached?

"Would you care to dance?" She asked. Had her control of her empathy slipped for a moment, or was she just as surprised by her question as Asra looked?

"Who will watch my booth?" He has recovered from his amazement and that fox-sly grin was back on his face.

Time to show this boy what she could do. Lizbeth cast her left hand over the table, her right curling towards herself as if she was reaching for a Familiar that was not there. This reaching, a cupping of a hand over her heart, was a habit left over from when she had learned to harness the dragon magic that touched some Ahmari's. As she made the motion now her magic flared up, surging towards her hand before stilling under her control. Lizbeth murmured a word and a circular sigil flashed into existence over the table, blue light flaring and pulsing with power before vanishing from sight.

Asra stepped around the table to stand beside her, both hands held towards his wares as if towards a fire. "A ward?" He asked. "I've never seen one this-"

"Strong?" Lizbeth interrupted, unable to keep the vainglorious note from her voice. "Complex?"

"Close up." Asra purred, glancing to her. "I was going to say I've never been this close when one was cast. But go ahead and keep talking, I would love to hear you brag about it."

Lizbeth's magic growled as shame bit at her, but she shook it off. If he wanted to hear her boast then she would not let herself feel ashamed. "It will dispel anyone with sticky fingers- they simply will not see the treasures here. And anyone who would like to make a purchase will leave their coin where you can find it."

There was awe in his eyes when she looked to him, a disarming sort of openness that made her pulse flutter. "You're right, that is the most complex ward I've ever seen." He offered her his arm and she took it. Her pulse raced as he lead her to the dance floor and then spun her into the first few moves of a slow waltz. "Thank you, Miss Ahmari, for protecting my charms and for allowing me this dance. Now..." He leaned in close, close enough that she could feel his heart drumming in his chest, "will you offer me your name or will you expose me as a cheater, since I already know it?"

His teasing made the hair on her arms razor up, made want ripple across the scales of her magic. She could see herself pressing her lips to the hollow of his throat, see herself biting onto his shoulder as if to claim him. So she laughed to distract herself from the warmth tingling in all of her most sensitive areas and gave him the answer. "Call me Lizbeth." She smiled up at him. "I would hate to know what nicknames for me my Aunt has taught you."

Her relationship with Asra was like spring, soft and full of promise and surprises. When she wasn't in Vesuvia they wrote letters back and forth, but she visited more often now. He was puppy soft sometimes, loving a cuddly, while at other times he was as mischievous as a fox. Being with him softened the cruel edges of her, chipped away at her armor until her laughter was less condescending and more full of joy.

Gail, who was considered weak for an Ahmari and who had married an outsider, showered them both with her approval. Her husband Alexi, the closest thing Lizbeth had to a father, teased her gently and always threatened to read Asra's letters before sending them off.

So when Gail began to lose pieces of her memory and Lizbeth moved to live with her Aunt and Uncle full time she was glad for Asra's support. When she came to him after long days he let her cry without trying to shush her. When scales began to appear upon Gail's hands and face and she stopped making sense it was Asra and Alexi who ran the shop while Lizbeth cared for Gail.

He was so soft and gentle with her, like a bed of new grass in the spring, like the creeks that babbled through the woods, like rose petals. When Lizbeth asked him to go away for a few days he did not argue- he merely kissed her lips, and then her forehead, and then each eyelid before departing. When he returned three days later he waited at the door to the shop instead of letting himself in. And when he realized that Gail was gone he simply held Lizbeth as she sobbed.

Asra was the first outsider Lizbeth found she could rely on. When Alexi did not have the emotional stamina to run the shop without his wife at his side it was Asra who took on the responsibility. She could not have done it without him. She may not have survived it without him.

When Alexi moved out of the upstairs loft and to a different district of the city Lizbeth was presented with how she could repay Asra for his seemingly unending patience, kindness, and love. She relocated her bed from the little back room that had been her bedroom since childhood, taking it and her sparse belongings upstairs to the now empty loft. And then into that backroom went the table Asra had been using for his readings. She hung tapestries from the walls, piled jewel toned pillows in every corner, removed the door and hung curtains instead.

"You made me a present?" He had asked, laughter bubbling in every word. She walked behind him, her hands over his eyes to blind him. She was guiding him forward slowly, careful not to bump him into any of the furniture. When they reached the threshold of the back room he instinctively reached out for the door, but his fingertips found warm fabric instead. Lizbeth felt his surprise begin to flavor his curiosity and could not help but to press her lips to his shoulder. A spike of desire made her magic surge against the edges of herself (or maybe it was the magic that fueled the desire) and for three heartbeats she wished his clothes were not between his flesh and her lips, her teeth. Not now, she told herself, perhaps later.

She showed him the space she had created for him, and through her empathy was able to taste Asra's amazement and gratitude and wonder. She felt that if she could bottle those emotions they would sustain her for the rest of her life.

She allowed him to explore, then took him by the hands and said "one more" and led him upstairs. She watched him carefully as he took in the loft, two places set at the little table, the second dresser and wardrobe, both empty. Then he kissed her as if he already knew the question, before she could even ask "will you move in with me?"

#The Arcana Game #the arcana #fanfiction #lizbeth ahmari #apprentice liz #asra the magician

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babyhoneystylcs · 6 years ago

Text

love letters from the dead(p.p.)

chapter one || p.s. i love you a u

summary: After losing Peter Parker to the events of Infinity War, you learn Peter left you a box of letters to cope, wanting to be prepared for any possible outcome that came with the life of an Avenger

warnings: mentions of death, crying, slight panic attack

paring: peter parker x reader

word count: 2.8k

a/n: the first chapter is finally up! I hope you guys enjoy, send me an ask if you wanna be added to the tag list!

I apologize in advance if the read more doesn’t work!

the first part in italics is a flashback, the second set is a letter

You found the first letter a month after Peter died. After a month of mourning, sleepless nights, and trying to keep Peter alive in your mind, you and May decided to clean out his room. You were pulling clothes out of his bottom dresser, the one you used to steal sweatshirts from, the one where you took shirts from without telling him, the one where he hid things. You had finished pulling out the last sweatshirt, the red one that you had stolen so many times, when you saw the envelope with your name on it, the name only he called you.

Buttercup.

You hated the nickname so much, and knew he usually called you it just to annoy you. But it was only after Peter died when you started to appreciate it, wishing you could hear him say it one more time. You unintentionally put the sweatshirt, being overwhelmed with the smell of Peter, causing you to tear up a little bit. You threw the letter in Peter’s sweatshirt pocket, and continued packing away boxes.

It wasn’t till hours later when you had opened the letter. You and May had spent the day going through Peter’s room, and finding the little things that made you love Peter that much more. It was a rough day, filled with lots of tears, but some smiles could be seen from the two of you, smiling while telling stories about Peter, the main source of happiness and light in your life. One story in particular filling you with the most joy you had felt since Peter died. It was a story Peter and you had sworn to never tell May, but you knew the she needed the story just as much as you.

You didn’t get many mornings like this. The ones where you were woken up with Peter’s grip tight around your waist. Where he had come to you that night, without a scratch or cut on him. These were the times where you really forgot he was Spider-Man. To you, he was just Peter, the boy you had fallen in love with.

The sun was peaking through Peter’s bedroom window, the sun rays to hitting you directly in the face, causing you to let out a groan. As much as you wanted to stay wrapped up in Peter’s arms and never leave, you knew the two of you had to get to school.

You wiggled against Peter’s arms, trying to escape his death lock. Once you broke free from them, you had a look of triumph on your face. You were able to escape Spider-Man’s grip of death.

“Pete, Peter, come on, were gonna be late for school.” You whisper yelled at him, shaking him in the process, hoping that would make waking him up a bit easier.

You heard him groan before responding. “No May, five more minutes.”

You rolled your eyes at him, but in the end decided to give him those five minutes while you looked for your phone. It wasn’t very had to find, as it had only fallen off the side of the bed.

Panic hit you as you checked the time on your phone.

9:45 A.M

“Shit shit shit” was the only thing running through your mind. You and Peter were already late. Right after you thought about how much school you two had missed, you grabbed the nearest object and flung it at Peter.

Much to Peter’s luck, it was only a pillow.

He let out another groan. “Seriously Y/N, you couldn’t have just tapped me?” He asked you, annoyance peeking through his morning voice, something you would normally appreciate, but were too busy freaking out about school to do that.

You hit him with another pillow before responding. “Peter, come on, we gotta go, we’ve already missed first period.”

Peter laughed and rolled over back onto his pillow, leaving you with a confused look on your face.

“Peter, did you hear me? I said we already missed first period.” You said again, your voice a little louder.

“Yes, I heard you. But I chose to ignore it. Come Buttercup, live a little. One day isn’t gonna hurt us.” Peter said, a teasing tone is his voice, and though you couldn’t see his face, you knew he had a smirk.

Your eyes instantly rolled at the sound of your nickname he had given you many years ago. “Live a little? Coming from your mouth? Come on Peter, you were the one who cried when you were late to class for this first time”

“Hey!” He said defensively. “I was still a kid, you can’t blame me!”

“Peter, that was a year ago.” You said, smiling at the memory.

“Exactly, I was still a kid!” He said, throwing his arms up as he got out of bed.

You saw him walk over to his dresser and pull out a sweatshirt, complaining about how you were just like May as he pulled out a sweatshirt for you. Your favorite one.

You wondered why he was grabbing you one, as it wasn’t that cold, but understood why when you looked down, only in a shirt. You saw Peter look you up and down in the corner of you eyes, and your cheeks became a shade of crimson.

“Put this on, we’re going on an adventure.” He said, putting his own sweatshirt on, and pulling you out of the apartment before you could disagree.

The warm summer air had hit you in the face right when you stepped out of the apartment, and you were starting to regret wearing the sweatshirt out. You could feel the beads of sweat falling down your head, onto the neckline of the sweatshirt.

You two had been walking for a few minutes in silence, hand in hand, ignoring how sweaty each others’ hands were. As well as you knew Queens, you had no idea where Peter was taking you.

“Peter” you said, it coming out as more of a question that his name.

All he said was “mhhh”, not bothering to fully respond. You rolled your eyes at the sound.

“You wanna tell me where were going?” You questioned, trying to sound persuading as possible.

“Nope” he said, popping the P. “Now shush buttercup, just walk and enjoy the view.”

“What view, the buildings?” You said sarcastically. After all, you guys were walking a New York alley, which probably wasn’t the smartest idea, but the two of you were too engulfed in each other’s presence to care.

Peter didn’t respond, only laughing at your sarcasm. Instead, he pulled you in for a kiss, and you were instantly silent. A smile was now apparent on your face, and Peter swore your smile lit up the whole world.

After another twenty minutes of walking, you and Peter had arrived at the mystery location. I had only gotten hotter as you guys walked, and the only thing you hoped the mystery place would have was an AC.

Sunny Side Up Diner

You had never heard Peter mention anything about this place, so as he tugged your arm to go inside, you followed him like a lost puppy.

The diner was what you expected it to be. It had the classic 80’s diner look. Bar stools, checkered floor, and a scent of burnt pancakes filled your nose. As the two of you walked in, every worker greeted Peter was a wave, and asked him how he was. You were confused to as why you have never heard of this place and people before

You followed Peter to the two-person booth in the back of the diner, it being very secluded from the rest of the place. The minute you sat down, you started pestering Peter with questions.

“What is this place?” You asked him, curiosity laced in your voice.

“It’s the Sunny Side Diner silly, it literally says it on the menu.” He said, pointing to the menu in front of him. One thing that really stood out about it was the little sun on the front.

You shot him a death glare, but for some reason, he laughed, thinking it was cute. “Come on Peter, you know what I mean, what is this place. What is it to you?”

You saw him sigh and tense up, making you worried. What if these were bad memories and you were making him relive them by pestering to answer something he didn’t want to. These were the thoughts running through your mind, and you were starting to freak out and the thought of making Peter uncomfortable.

Peter started to open his mouth to talk, and some of your worries went away. Before he could start, he was interrupted by one of the waitresses.

“Hey, Peter, how are you? It’s been so long since we saw you, everyone’s missing you!” the waiter said, and it seemed like she was about to jump with joy at the sight of Peter.

The waitress looked to be in her 60’s. She had a very mother like vibe, and you felt yourself start to calm down around her.

“Hey Martha! It really has been a while, I’ve just been so busy with school. You know, junior year and all. I miss everyone too, I really need to stop by more often.” Peter said, his excitement matching hers.

You were confused, to say the least. You zoned out with the two of them talked, and thought about the situation you were in. Peter had never talked about having any aunts or uncles in the area, so seeing him talk to this lady like family made you confused. Of course, you were happy. You could see the love she had for Peter. Something Peter needed. You were happy to see that he had what seemed to be some sort of family out in the world.

You were snapped out of your daze by Peter’s voice.

“Y/N love, are you okay?” Peter asked you, his voiced very concerned, with a look of worry on his face.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good, just zoned out.” You said with a smile, trying to let him know that you were okay. “Who was that?” You asked, noticing the lady from before had walked away.

“That’s Marth. She’s like an aunt to me. Ben and I used to always come here before he died. This was the place he would take me when I missed my parents a little more than usual. It was a place that May didn’t know about. When we came here, we would talk about anything and everything.” Peter rambled, taking a breath before he continued.

“After Ben died, I took May here and told her about all the memories Ben and I had made here. It was about that time when Martha started working here. She was a big help in making sure me and May were, well we were okay. She even helped us with rent whenever we needed it. Now, she’s like family to me. And I feel so guilt for not visiting more often, because she helped influence my life so much.”

You nodded, and tried to talk, but were cut off by Peter rambling more.

“And I’ve never brought anybody else here before. Not Mj, not even Ned. I can’t begin to tell you how guilty I felt when I brought May here. I felt like I was giving up the one place me and Ben had, one of the few things I remember about Ben and my time together. But with you, with you Y/N, I don’t feel any guilt whatsoever. I knew the minute you told me were late, this Is what I wanted to do. I wanted to bring you here, and show you parts of myself I’ve never shown anyone before, I want to show you everything about me, and how much I trust you. I want you to see the real me Y/N, the part of me that isn’t completely okay, and that part lives here.” Peter finished, tears now falling down his face.

Your heart ached for the boy in front of you. For all the years you knew Peter, you had never seen this part of him. He seemed so, happy, trying to make sure everyone was okay. And knowing that he had been holding this in for so long made your heart hurt so much, knowing that he sacrificed his happiness for others really showed how big his heart was.

You didn’t know what else to do, so you moved from your side of the booth to next to him. And you took his hand, holding it while rubbing small circles on it. You let him cry into your chest, the emotions he had been holding in for so long were now coming out. Tears were running down your(or, you guess it was his)sweatshirt, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was helping your boy smile again.

So that’s exactly how you spent your day. After the diner, the two of you walked to the city and went to all the places of your first. First date, first kiss, first “I love you.” Both of you ignoring the calls from you school. Each time Peter smiled that day, you knew that was the smile you wanted to see forever.

And how you wished to see that smile right now.

After spending the day with May, you went to the place you’d been avoiding since Peter’s death. The place where you and Peter had gone countless nights after patrol or nights neither of you could sleep, in the booth were tears were shed from not only laughter, but also sadness.

Once you got there, you made you way straight to the back, to yours and Peter’s booth. You ignored the looks of sadness, and the comments of pity you heard from the workers as you ordered Peter’s order. You ignored Martha’s sad smile when she saw you sitting in the booth, in Peter’s sweatshirt and sweats, wanting to have a a piece of him with you

You pulled the letter out of the sweatshirt pocket, and set it down before, opening it. You were afraid to open it, not knowing what would be on this letter. But you did it anyways, a few tears falling onto the letter, when you saw the neat, yet somehow scribbles handwriting that Peter was know for.

Dear Y/N,

If you’re reading this, well then, I’m gone. I died, maybe even perished. Too soon? Probably. But if I know you and May, it’s probably some time since I died before you opened this. Y/N, I’ve had these written out since I was Spider-Man, and I told you. You always told me to prepare for worst case scenario, right? Well here it is, my worst case scenario. As I’m writing this, your curled up on my bed, snoring very loudly, I almost wanna wake you up because of how loud you are. But I won’t because god, you look so damn angelic laying there, drowning in my sweatshirt. How can you still look so perfect while you’re asleep?

Sorry, I’m getting off track, but what I wanna say is, just because im gone, doesn’t mean I’m gone. I’ve sent out a bunch of these letters, so you’ll always know I’m here for you. Don’t try to find where these are coming from, because as smart as you are my love, you won’t.

But hey, while I have you here(haha, because get it, you’re reading this letter, and can’t really leave)can you do something for me? Make sure May’s taking care of herself okay. She’s already lost so dam much, and I don’t want her to break. And I know this is asking a lot, because you’ve gone through so much already my love and have to go through this too. But you can do it, I don’t want you to be sad over me. There’s gonna be some tough nights, I know it. But you’ll be able to get through it, I know it. You’re strong, stronger than I ever was. You were always my rock, no matter what you were going through, you were always there for me. Now be there for yourself….

P.S. I will always love you

Sincerely,

Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man

You sat at the booth, silent tears falling as you read the letter over. And over. And over. You sat on Peter’s side of the booth, crying and reading that letter, until you fell asleep. As you fell asleep at the table, you swear you could feel Peter’s hand closed on yours, rubbing small circles on it. Just like how you did so many nights ago.

t a g l i s t: @cottoncandyparker @lovelyh0lland @tomsfireheart @joyfulfrappuccino

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker fic #spiderman #spiderman imagine #spiderman x reader #spider-man x reader #spider-man imagine #spider-man: homecoming

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